Listening

I interrupted him three times, sure that I wasn’t interested in hearing his suggestion. With only half of his thought out, I’d already determined what he was going to say, and proceeded to shut down the conversation. What a great way to facilitate communication and deepen connection with the man I love and share my life with. Finally he stopped walking, and standing in our snow covered driveway, suggested that I wasn’t listening to him. Huh. Now there’s a thought. Keeping my mouth shut long enough for him to actually finish his sentence, it became quickly obvious that he was right. I hadn’t been listening, and if I had, would have discovered that his thought was a good one, and we were on exactly the same page.

Note to self.

Let people finish what they are saying.

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Redemption

Redemption is always possible. As long as we draw breath, there remains the opportunity to turn things around, even if only in our own hearts. To do things differently. To be who we want to be in the midst of our circumstances, no matter how fraught or difficult they may be. The ball is always in our court, regardless of what happens on the other side of the net.

Redemption doesn’t always happen the way we hope it will. The other person may not seize the chance to turn things around. They may continue in their same vein, and to chart their same course. The ball is always in their court too. But what they do with it isn’t up to us.

Redemption can still happen even if we are the only ones showing up, and bringing the best of ourselves to the worst of situations. Because when all is said and done, sometimes knowing that we’ve done all we can with what we’ve got to work with is as redemptive as it gets.

Redemption is always possible. Even if we are the only ones being redeemed.

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The Doctor Is In

When we got Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle, little did we know that we were also getting our very own four-legged marriage counselor.

Tom and I have done a lot of work over the course of our 25 year marriage, and have a deep trust in and respect for one another, but somehow Dr. Gracie has a way of showing us that these two old dogs still need to learn some new relationship tricks.

We’ve adopted an approach to raising Gracie that will equip her to have the freedom we want her to enjoy here at home, and out in the big wide world on all of our shared adventures. Just when we think we are on the same page on what that approach means, we learn that we aren’t.

And then we have to talk about it.

Again.

After another conversation to clear the air and our understanding, we’re on a new page together, until we learn that we aren’t.

And then we have to talk about it.

Again.

Our little chocolate girl is helping us to dig a little deeper into our own fears and hurts that have been buried under long ago frozen ground, and bring them to the surface where we can lay them at one another’s feet as food for deeper conversation, leading to deeper understanding, leading to deeper connection.

We’ve got Dr. Gracie, but dog owners or not, we all have people and situations smack dab in the middle of our lives that have to potential to teach us new relationship tricks. While It will probably mean that we will have to dig deeper into our own fears and hurts, Gracie will tell you it’s totally worth it!

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Family Reunion

Today, Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle had a brief reunion with her dad Gryffindor, and her sister Piper. The last time these three family members were together was on December 1st, and I will never forget Gracie’s first night at home. That’s because I was awake all night, as she howled and cried in her crate next to our bed until it was time to get up.

It was her first night away from the only family she had ever known, and her loneliness and pain were heard in every high pitched cry. I can’t even imagine how scary and confusing that must have been for her. The next night, Tom suggested that we move her crate into the mudroom, and that one of us sleep on the floor next to her for a few nights, as she began to adjust to her new pack,. Tom took the first night, I took the next one, and by the third night, she was ready to sleep on her own.

She was home, and we were family.

Watching her reconnect with her first family today, it was easy to see that they recognized one another immediately, as they sniffed and wagged, sniffed and wagged, and of course, sniffed some more. Looking at Gracie and Piper, I could see the similarities - the shape of their faces and their body size - and the differences - their color and the texture of their coats. Like all of us, their shared genetics and early experiences have shaped the pups that they are today, and will continue to influence who they become as they mature.

As I watched this family reunion in progress, I was reminded that there’s no getting around it, family is family. And whether we stick together like glue, or hope we never see one another again, our family is always a part of who we are. There are no perfect families, and most of ours are a mixture of the good, the bad, and the seriously ugly, and we get to choose what to do with the family we’ve got. When it comes to family, it seems that the very best we can do is to celebrate every single shred of goodness, learn and grow from the bad, and heal from and leave behind the ugly so as not to pass it on to the next generation.

Driving away from that sweet reunion, I was grateful once again for yet another lesson from our Gracie-Girl, and for the fact that we two legged types don’t have to sniff and wag in order to recognize family.

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Whose Side Of The Fence?

Whenever we are in a relationship, there are times when there is work that needs to be done, and that work falls into three categories: yours, mine, and ours. A healthier order would be mine, yours, and ours, because when looking at the health and dynamics of our relationships, it’s best to start within.

Good questions to ask ourselves might be:

How have I contributed to the current state of this marriage/partnership/family dynamic/professional relationship/friendship/whatevership?

What am I doing to build or undermine trust and respect?

What do I need to communicate to the other person?

Do I need to seek forgiveness?

Have I clearly stated my needs?

Do I need to seek professional help to find my way to a healthier me?

What is mine to do?

What is on my side of the fence?

Starting there is always a win/win deal. No matter what the outcome of our own work, when done with curiosity, humility, courage, and integrity, we come out the side more fully formed as the person we are meant to be.

All that being said, not everything falls on our side of the fence. It is up to others to show up too, and hopefully they will. Sometimes that means doing their own work, and other times it means that we swing our gates open wide and inhabit the field of relationship building together.

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Hanging The Antlers

Today is the fourth Sunday in Advent, ushering in the theme of Love, which, as it turns out, can show up in the most unlikely places.

Last summer my brother Peter gave me a fabulous set of elk antlers from one of his annual hunting trips to Montana. I’ve wanted a set for the cabin for years, and now that I had them, I knew exactly where I wanted to hang them. There was no other place for them to go but up above our fireplace, over the mantle in the middle of the rock covered chimney. It was a placement that would make Ralph Lauren and Joanna Gaines swoon.

I asked Tom if he would be able to hang them there, and he said that he thought he could.

Perfect.

I began to imagine those long desired antlers in their new home, with a fire blazing and candles glowing on the mantle.

A couple of months passed and the antlers hung out in our laundry room. I knew my husband had a lot on his plate, so wasn’t worried that they wouldn’t eventually find their way onto the rock. It never occurred to me that Tom might have a different opinion. Until one Sunday morning over coffee when I asked him if he thought he could get them up that day. After a long pause, he finally told me he didn’t like the spot I had chosen, and he didn’t want to hang them there. What? He’d never shared that with me in all the conversations we’d had about the antlers. I was frustrated and mad, especially since I’d spent so much time imagining them up there, and I wasn’t going to give up the fight easily. Neither however, was he. He suggested some of the areas he’d thought of, none of which (of course) were acceptable to me. We were at loggerheads, and the antlers were still in the laundry room.

Somewhere along the way I remembered a therapist we’d worked with, and here’s what she would have had to say. I don’t care about the antlers or where you hang them. Hang them anywhere you want. Upside down in the bathroom, over your bed, on the rock fireplace, or inside your closet. What I do care about, is once those antlers are up, are you two better as a couple or not? Do you understand and respect one another more, or not. Are you closer and more intimately connected, or not?

It’s not about the antlers.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, our relationship was more important than those silly antlers. Once we each let go of having to have it our way, we found an even better (of course) spot for the antlers. Tom hung them today, and I love them right where they are. We both do.

When it comes to love, it’s not about the antlers.

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What Love Does

“That’s because love is never stationary. In the end, love doesn’t just keep thinking about it or keep planning for it. Simply put: love does.” 

~ Bob Goff Author of Love Does, and Everybody Always


A friend and I spent one weekend in front of the fire reading, crying, and laughing our way through Love Does by Bob Goff.

When it comes to love, his book title says it all…

Love Does.

Based just on what I’ve seen today, here are a few of the things love does:

Love picks up the phone and asks for help.

Love answers the phone and listens.

Love calls to see how you are doing.

Love checks the oil in your car.

Love comes to your home to grieve, and to heal.

Love opens the door to someone in need.

Love helps you mail a package at the post office.

Love sends you a text.

Love gives you room to roam.

Love yells “Shotgun!” when you try and run away.

Love stays home with the babies so you can prepare for your next lecture.

Love does what it takes to keep a sacred monthly phone date.

Love laughs with you at the most inopportune times.

Love lets you push its hands off your shoulders because that feels too claustrophobic, but continues to stand behind you in quiet support.

Love kisses you in the middle of the day.

Love asks “How’s your heart today?”

Love encourages you in your writing.

Love stands behind you.

Love stands beside you.

Love goes before you.

Love

Does

What did you see love do today?

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Safe Is Overrated

  “Well, we are safe, even as we are as vulnerable as kittens,  because love, the riskiest thing we do, makes us safe.”

~ Anne Lamott, from her new book: Almost Everything

In C.S. Lewis’s classic, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the Pevensie children find themselves in the magical land of Narnia after stepping through a door in the back of a wardrobe that is stored in an attic. Once there, they learn of Aslan, who is anything but a vulnerable little kitten. He is the fierce, gigantic, talking lion known as the King of Narnia, the King of Beasts, the Lord of the Wood, and son of the great Emperor-Beyond-The Sea.* He is powerful, wise, kind, just, and loving. All of those on the wrong side of all that he stands for fear him, as rightly they should. All of those who seek to stand on the same side of all that he stands for fear him, as rightly they should. He is, after all, the King of Narnia, King of Beasts, Lord of the Wood, and son of the great Emperor-Beyond-The-Sea.

Susan, the middle child of the four Pevensie siblings, has heard much of Aslan, but has yet to meet him. She has heard only of all the good that the powerful Aslan has done, and will do, and is excited at the prospect of meeting him. And, as you might imagine if you were going to meet a fierce, gigantic, talking Lion who reigns over all, you might be a tad bit nervous too. Hoping to allay her fears, she has a conversation with her new friend, Mr. Beaver. 

“Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion"..."Safe?" said Mr Beaver ..."Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”

Safe is overrated.  

Being true to your convictions isn’t safe. But it’s good. 

Speaking your mind isn’t safe. But it’s good. 

Adventures aren’t safe. But they’re good. 

Curiosity isn’t safe. But it’s good. 

Creativity isn’t safe. But it’s good. 

Meaningful work isn’t safe. But it’s good. 

Authenticity isn’t safe. But it’s good. 

Vulnerability isn’t safe. But it’s good. 

Hard conversations aren’t safe. But they’re good.

Asking for help isn’t safe. But it’s good.  

Raising your hand in a meeting isn’t safe. But it’s good.

Reaching across the aisle isn’t safe. But it’s good. 

Speaking truth to power isn’t safe. But it’s good.  

Asking for forgiveness isn’t safe. But it’s good.

Extending forgiveness isn’t safe. But it’s good.

And above all else... 

Love isn’t safe. But it’s good.  

When we go for safe, we will never get the chance to walk through the door in the back of a wardrobe that is stored in an attic, and find ourselves in a magical land. Not to mention the possibility of meeting a fierce, giagantic, talking lion. 

I’ll take good over safe any day.  

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* shmoop

CONFLICT - Extra! Extra! Read All About It!

“In conflict, be fair and generous.”

~Lao Tzu

Early in our marriage we were heading out for a family road trip. It always takes more than you think to get out of town, but the suburban was finally packed, the kids were in the car, and I was itching to get on the road. Just as we reached the top of our driveway, Tom noticed that we hadn’t brought in the daily newspaper and wanted to stop and get it. I wanted him to keep driving and forget it. The situation quickly devolved into a stand-off, with us arguing in the front seat. It was a great start to our vacation.

Finally, I got out and picked up the paper and headed back to the car. Looking at Tom through the window, I noticed that he had a satisfied smile on his face, like he thought he’d won. So I did an about face and hucked the paper for all I was worth into the hedge. I guess I showed him.

It was a quiet car ride for awhile, which gave me time to notice that his ears could actually turn red. We continued to stick to our own guns for the better part of the day, and as I remember, it was one of our first real fights.

Over a newspaper.

Of course that wasn’t really what it was about. Conflicts are rarely about “the thing, but about something deeper. Whether it’s a desire to be heard, understood, respected, seen, protected, acknowledged, or needing even a tiny sense of control, conflict boils down to more than winning or losing. Or at least it could.

Fast forward 10 years after the driveway showdown. My sister and I were  at the Oregon Coast with our daughters for our annual beach trip. The six girls ranged in age from 18-23, and this particular morning we were gathered around a table at Sleepy Monk (best coffee on the planet). A middle aged couple standing in line next to our table engaged us in conversation. As it turned out, he was a marriage and family therapist, and as we all chatted he learned that one of my nieces was engaged to be married that spring. This launched us all into a conversation about relationships and marriage. Because we were talking about relationships and marriage, the topic of conflict came up. Go figure. At any rate, he got very quiet, then he looked around the table and asked Girls, do you know what the purpose of conflict is? I can’t remember what they said, but I’ve never forgotten his answer

The purpose of conflict is connection.

If you are still reading this, I want you to find pen and paper and write those words down. Right now. Really.

The purpose of conflict is connection.

Now look at those words. Think about them. It isn’t a stretch to say that we’ve all of had an experience of conflict that produced anything but connection, and most of us don’t wake up in the morning and say, Gee. I hope I have a conflict today. Most of us don’t go looking for one. Most of us would prefer not to have one. Some of us will do almost anything to avoid one.

If you are still with me, I want you to pick up the pen again, this time in your non-dominant hand. The one you don’t write with, and write those same words down. Right now. Really.

The purpose of conflict is connection.

If you’re still with me, my guess is that it took you longer to write it that time. It might be kind of messy. Hard to read. Look kind of like when you first learned to write as a kid. It was probably very uncomfortable, awkward, and even a little painful. All of which sounds a whole lot like how conflict feels.

If you’re still with me, I know that you will always prefer to write with your dominant hand, but imagine if you were to write those same words, with your non-writing hand, ten times a day, every day for a month. You’d get better at it, and it would become a skill that would serve you when you needed it.

All of this to say, that the only way to get better at conflict is to practice it.

Now I’m not saying go out and rustle up some conflict so that you can practice. But, the next time something comes up, and it will, where you could step into the messy, uncomfortable, awkward, and maybe painful conversation, go ahead and dip your toe into the conflict waters. And do it with the intention, not of winning, or being right, or getting it over with, but with the intention of creating  a little more connection. Take the high road and listen deeply. Take the conversation seriously and yourself lightly. Seek to understand and then to be understood. Listen with the kind of genuine attention that you would like to be given. Speak as you would like to be spoken to. Remember to breathe. Be willing to hold on to your convictions and let go of your assumptions. Be authentic, vulnerable, brave and curious.

Conflict happens, and when it does, if we call on the very best of ourselves, connection happens too.

Hucking a newspaper into a hedge doesn’t really help. Although it’s really fun to see if you can make your husbands ears turn red.

ATG Phtography

ATG Phtography