Too Good Not To Share

re-spon-si-ble

having an obligation to do something, or care for someone, as part of one's job or role

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Especially during COVID, staying connected matters more than ever. Thanks to technology we can still meet, gather, collaborate, celebrate, learn, remember, worship, and share a meal or bottle of wine together. We can work with a therapist, doctor, coach, personal trainer, or spiritual director, all from the comfort of our home office, closet, car, or tree fort.

As good as all that connecting is, sometimes it’s just too much.

Our devices ring and ding and vibrate, alerting us that someone somewhere is reaching our way, and we, or at least I, feel responsible to answer right there and then. It’s as if not picking up the phone, responding to the text, joining the video call, or answering the email immediately communicates that I don’t care. That that person isn’t a priority, and as someone who values connection and relationships above all else, I never want to convey that. Ever. And yet I have this fear that I do.

This was the quandary I brought to a monthly video conversation with my spiritual director. One of his many gifts is his practice of parsing words. He will take a word apart, maybe switch a letter of two, all in the service of looking at it in a new and more helpful way. In this case, rather than feel responsible to answer the phone or respond to the text, decide if, in that moment, I am response-able to do so.

Do I have the emotional capacity, at the time, to respond with the best of myself? Is my tank, at the time, empty, full, or somewhere in between? Do I have what it takes, at the time, to be fully present? In that moment, am I responsible or response-able to answer? It isn’t about not responding. It’s about responding well.

Some things are simply too good not to share.

(Once again, a grateful shout out to Dane Anthony.)

Photo by Wendy Wei from Pexels

Mending

Yesterday my daughter spent time mending a pair of pants for her four-year-old son. Passed down from his cousin, a few years his senior, they already had history. Hours spent doing what little boys do. Rather than toss them, she carefully mended them. Artfully stitching together the old with the new, patching the hole, reinforcing the seams, and readying them for more of what this little boy will do.

What is true of a pair of pants is true of life. With time comes wear and tear, and the need for repair. Our fabric wears thin, feelings catch on sharp words, hurtful choices tear people apart.

Mending is the art of tending to what has been torn.

Mending matters.

(To learn more about the art of mending, check out Mending Matters by Katrina Rodabaugh)

With gratitude to HKK

Bouncing Off Ideas

What is your idea of marriage?

This is a question posed by a good friend of mine when he is providing pre-marital counseling to a couple. Each person has the opportunity to share their answer out loud with the other. In other words, they take the opportunity to bounce their ideas off of one another before actually getting married.

It’s a brilliant question to ask, and an equally brilliant practice to hone .

Because the truth of the matter is, marriage isn’t just two people coming together. It is also the joining of two ideas about what marriage means. What marriage looks like. Which is all well and good until we encounter something where our ideas don’t match up. Which is where the rubber meets the relationship road.

My hunch is that the healthiest, most resilient marriages, or relationships of any sort for that matter, aren’t those where both people see everything the same way all the time. Rather, over time, they have honed the skills to uncover how they each see things, and then use what they discover to better navigate the road ahead.

After 26 years together, my husband and I are still honing these skills.

We had talked about getting our Christmas tree today. Which for us means tromping out onto our property to find a tree that will have to be cut down eventually anyway because it is in our view corridor.

So.

In my mind, we were going to bundle up, take our time, meander here and there, find the tree, cut it down, drag it back to the house, and set it up. Twinkle lights, a few ornaments, candles on the mantle, and a Christmas movie in the background.

Which was all well and good until Tom came downstairs ready to get out there, cut it down, drag it back to the house, and get back up to his office as quickly as possible. Because we hadn’t bounced our ideas off of each other, we found them butting up against each other instead. Thankfully, we stuck it out as we’ve learned to do, talking it through from both of our angles, and combining my idea with his idea to come up with our idea.

Tom headed back up to his office, and I bundled up and headed outside for a good long walk with Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle, looking over a few of our tree options along the way.

The same thing happens to all of us all the time. We have an idea about something. About what whatever it is looks like. And the other person, our partner, parent, friend, relative, co-worker, teammate, neighbor, manager, service provider, teammate, has an idea too. Which is all well and good until we discover that our ideas don’t match up.

So.

What is your idea of fill-in-the-blank?

Now, go bounce your idea off of whomever it is about whatever it is. And invite them to do the same.

(Shout out to Dane Anthony for the brilliant question and equally brilliant practice.)

Photo by Rodolfo Clix from Pexels

What Aren't You Saying?

Imagine what would happen if our thought bubbles were visible to others. It might not be pretty.

Before we heave sighs of relief that they aren’t, let’s consider what might happen if they were. I’m not talking about our snarky thoughts, or the mean spirited, sarcastic words we would never utter out loud, but love to shout behind the closed doors of our mind. I’m talking about the other ones. The thoughts and feelings that we work so hard to keep hidden might be precisely the ones that need to be brought out into the open.

What aren’t you saying?

Whatever it is, it might be what will lead to the real conversation. The one that will result in deeper understanding and closer connection. The one that will help heal wounds, mend fences, develop courage, deepen trust, and strengthen relationships.

What aren’t you saying?

Whatever it is, it might be what needs to be spoken out lout and within our own earshot. The words that will help us separate fact from fiction, loosen fear’s grip, empower us to ask for help, and shed light on our next right steps.

What aren’t you saying?

Whatever it is, it might be exactly what needs to be said. And heard.

(With gratitude to Dane Anthony for showing me the power behind this question)

Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán from Pexels

Misplaced Frustration

frus·tra·tion:

the feeling of being upset or annoyed, especially because of inability to change or achieve something

It’s been one of those days. Off my game. Agitated. Tense. Call it what you will, I don’t like how I am showing up today.

Case in point: I spent a decent amount of time taking whatever it is out on my husband by vigorously expressing my exasperation over a big landscaping project that got started too late and is taking too long. Even though that is clearly not the issue,

But it felt so good to let it out.

After a few long moments I tried again.

“I think this landscaping project is simply a good place to take out my frustration over all the things I feel like I can’t change, and you were the place I chose to take it out. I’m sorry.”

I’m frustrated these days. Maybe you are too.

Over what?

Well, you name it. COVID 19, the looming election, global warming, systemic racism, income disparity, face mask fatigue, people who refuse to wear face masks, fear mongering, people that I love who are hurting, long hold times waiting for answers to urgent questions, dualistic thinking, separation from friends and family, the hidden history of our country that I never learned about until now, the loss of concern for the common good, student loans, healthcare, the threat to our democracy, and all of the other things that are probably on your mind too.

Can you blame us for being frustrated?

Me either.

Let’s just guard against taking out that frustration on those we love.

Hearing Aids

I assumed that one day I would need to get hearing aids.

Just not before I was at least 70.

Today at 66, ok, almost 67, I am officially “audiologically” enhanced, sporting my new Bluetooth enabled, virtually invisible hearing aids.

I can already tell, or rather hear, the difference. For example, when the refrigerator door is left ajar, my husband no longer needs to call down from upstairs, “Mol, the refrigerator door is open.” Never mind that I am standing right next to it, the tone is simply one that I can’t detect. And if hearing the refrigerator is challenging, that can’t bode well for my communication with living breathing human beings.

And here’s the thing.

For me, relationships are everything, and communication is the lifeblood of connection.

If the Pandemic has shown us anything, it is that our lives are interconnected, and whatever isolates us one from another puts us in danger of losing our connection to each other. We stop talking to each other, and more importantly, we stop listening to each other.

Getting over the stigma of hearing aids as a sign of being old was a choice. One that will allow me to continue to connect with others in meaningful ways, beginning with what is needed now more than ever. Listening.

Listening is always a choice, and it doesn’t have anything to do with hearing aids.

Emotional Weight Lifting

Whether in actual physical proximity to people I care deeply about, or through a virtual connection that is the lifeline of relationship during this time of shared crisis, I feel untethered from my ability to connect with people. Some of the most basic navigational tools I’ve come to rely on are not available at present. No longer able to share a hug, I’m left to rely on my words. Unable to reach out and touch a shoulder, the tone of my voice must convey nuance. Facial expressions are stand-ins for the holding tight of hands, eye contact takes the place of a kiss, and tears that flow more freely than usual have to suffice for the comfort of a long embrace.

Strangely, the ways in which we have become accustomed to connecting to one another now put us all at risk. If we truly want to care for one another, we are being challenged to find new ways of being in relationship with one another. It often feels like trying to complete an intricate task with one hand tied behind my back, or navigate through the house blindfolded. I know what I’m trying to accomplish and where I want to go, but with only half of my relationship wheelhouse available.

It makes me wonder.

How often do we substitute easy contact for real communication and familiar gestures for genuine connection? Perhaps this time of separation, isolation, and physical distancing is a call to forge even deeper connections, hold each other close even when we are alone, and practice going it together even as we stand apart.

Learning to be in relationship without all of our usual resources is really hard work. It is tiring to the point of exhaustion. In many ways it’s like weight-lifting. The only way to get stronger is through repetition, increased effort, pushing past previous limits, and giving ourselves time to rest and recover.

And then going at it again.

Photo: Leon Martinez on pexels.com

The Halloween Party

“My goal” he said, “is come this fall, I want to want to invite you to our annual Halloween party”. At the time we were sitting with Bob, our potential builder, in his kitchen. Over cups of coffee, we poured over our plans and talked about the ins and outs of building the home we envisioned. By the end of our time around that kitchen table, we sensed that we’d found the guy for us.

We’d met with other builders to get estimates for our project, and to a person, they were first and foremost, all about the money. Don’t get me wrong. When it comes to building a home, money matters…to everyone. However, other things matter too. Like honesty, trust, respect, and a shared commitment to the end goal. In other words, in working together, we weren’t just building a home. We were building a relationship too.

Having talked to numerous people since embarking on this adventure, most people who have a home built for them don’t usually end up with the kind of friendship that we have with Bob. In fact, in the spirit of Halloween, I’ve heard far more horror stories than ones with a happy ending.

Sure there were snafus along the way, and sometimes writing those checks took my breath away. But there were no tricks, and plenty of treats along the way, and none of us ever lost sight of the end goal. A home we loved, and finding ourselves at the next Halloween party.

The first year we went as a homeless couple with signs around our neck that read Will work for house. The next year we simply turned the signs over to read Will work for mortgage. Which, by the way, has been worth every penny!

It’s been over 12 years since that first morning around Bob’s kitchen table, and tonight we are looking forward to another great Halloween party in their home. No costumes required. Kind of like our friendship.

Pixabay on Pexels.com

Dealing With It

After years of leading workshops and retreats and working with coaching clients, there is almost always this moment when the energy changes. Something I’ve said strikes a nerve, gets to the point, or sheds a light on something true. People perk up and listen, pick up a pen, and begin writing. Yesterday, in a workshop on leading teams, that moment came when I talked about how un-dealt with issues can undermine team strength, erode trust, and cause communication breakdowns. In the room heads nodded as they brought to mind what those unresolved issues and avoided conversations might be in their own teams.

We didn’t talk about the specifics, because that is their work to do in the days ahead, and because I usually teach what I need to hear too, I work to be right there with them. To apply what I am saying to them to my own life. It is safe to say that most of us don’t wake up and hope to have a difficult conversation, face avoided issues, and ask hard questions. It is equally safe to say that the longer we put such things off, the harder they are to face.

Whether talking about an organization, work team, friendship, marriage, NFL team, or a family, developing the skills to address issues as they arise, work through things rather than skirt around them, and keep our “accounts” current, is hard work, but oh such good work. It pays off every time we have the courage to do it, and it costs us every time we don’t.

Teachers All

They may not be our favorite teachers, but they are some of our best teachers. The people who seem to be able to push our buttons, get under our skin, and rub us the wrong way, are the same people who offer us the chance to do it right even when it’s hard. They provide us with opportunities to practice being who we want to be even in the midst of challenging circumstances, and reveal the places in us that still need our attention. If we let them, they will stretch us and push us, and help us grow in ways that only a good teacher can. And before we get too carried away making a list of who all those people might be, it’s good to remember that we are showing up on a few other people’s list too.