Feedback Anyone?

How often do you wake up in the morning and hope someone asks Do you mind if I give you some feedback? For most of us, those words rarely lead us to think that someone has something awesome to share with us. We generally prepare ourselves to hear something that shines a light on our shortcomings, failures, or mis-steps, and the truth is, sometimes, ok, many times, it does highlight something that we didn’t see ourselves, but wish we had.

This morning, after reading my latest blog post (Sunday School) which talked about the biblical story of creation and what it might tell us about ourselves, my husband Tom asked if he could share his perspective with me.

Umm. Sure.

“If someone didn’t know your theology, they might think that you believe that the world was literally created in six days. They might not understand that you were saying that the story is meant to point us to a much deeper truth.” My first response was that he hadn’t read it carefully enough, and then I remembered who it was that was offering me the gift of his feedback. As a scientist and a writer himself, he is a careful reader, and, he is also one of my most trusted voices. When he speaks, I (generally) try and listen, so took a deep breath and asked him to tell me more.

In my mind I had specifically written that piece to point to a deeper truth, not as theological commentary on anyone’s understanding of a powerful story of creation. I wrote it to encourage each of us to take seriously the unique errand upon we have been sent. To remind us that when we do the work we are called to do, and share the gifts that are ours to share, we can look upon all that we have done, and see that it is good. Just as the Creator does in the story. That was my point. Tom’s point was that readers might get wrapped up in a theological debate and miss the point altogether. It would have only taken a little more effort on my part to provide some context for my readers. To set the table a bit better before inviting them to partake of the offering.

It’s never fun to feel like we’ve missed the mark, and yet missing it is the only way we can improve our marksmanship. Whether as a writer, speaker, teacher, or coach, the only way I can get better is through honest feedback from trusted sources. The same holds true for all of us. In order to become more of who we are meant to be, to live into our fullness, and yes, to reflect the image of the creative power behind everything, we need to hear from others what they see in us that we cannot see in ourselves. Feedback is always a gift, not because it is always accurate or right or deserved, but because it provides a perspective other than our own, and helps us better understand how we are showing up in the world.

Whether that world took 6 days to create, or 4.6 billion years.

Photo: Pixabay

Being A Better Human Being

Every day there are so many opportunities to practice being a better human being. Or at least there are for me. Most of the time those opportunities come in the form of other human beings. Take today for instance. Thanks to my interactions with others, I’ve had the chance to apologize, circle back, gain clarity, have a go at a better conversation, listen more deeply, bear witness to pain, express appreciation, catch myself before really making a mess of things, not catch myself and have to clean up the mess, and last but not least, have a good laugh at myself for how far I still have to go.

Such life lessons don’t happen in a vacuum. They only happen when we are in relationship with others. Sometimes those others push our buttons, and bingo, there is another chance to practice being a better human being. Other times we push their buttons, and bingo. Another chance to practice being a better human being. When they hold up a mirror for us to see when we aren’t being a better human being, bingo… I think you catch my drift.

As we all know, or should know by now, when things are good, it usually has a lot to do with people and relationships. When things go bad, it usually has a lot to do with people and relationships. And of course, when things get ugly, it usually has a lot to do with people and relationships. One thing I know for sure is that I want to help tip the scales for the good, rather than the bad or the ugly. Lucky for me, every day is filled with new opportunities to practice.

The Pinecone

Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle is all about the pinecone. When it comes to rewarding her for a job well done, food, toys, and praise don’t even come close. It captivates her attention, narrows her focus, and her body fairly trembles with anticipation when waiting for us to release her to leap for her pinecone. She pounces on it, prances with it, and plays with it until it is nothing but a scattered pile of bits. Lucky for her, and for us, there’s plenty more where the last one came from.

Leveraging her love for the cone is one of our best tools to help her become the happiest and best her she can be. It delights, enraptures, fascinates, and bewitches her, and because of that, she is willing to do the hard work we are asking of her, and her hard work is paying off. She is developing the capacity to be patient as she resists the urge to break from her assigned place. The consistency with which she responds to our commands is growing, and her connection to us as the keepers-of-the-cone is getting stronger every day.

Come to think of it, discovering what captivates our attention, what delights, enraptures, fascinates and bewitches us sounds a lot like Gracie, and is one of our best tools for becoming our happiest and best selves.

Gracie wanted me to tell you, whatever your pinecone, find time every day to pounce on it, prance with it, and play with it . She’d tell you herself, but she’s a little busy right now.

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!

Lessons From The Ranch

As I write this, I am anticipating getting on an airplane tomorrow, along with my best friend Kristine, and heading for one of my favorite places on earth, Rancho La Puerta, a destination fitness and spa retreat. We are going as presenters, and throughout the week will work to create a safe space for some courageous thinking for any guests who choose to join us. Our theme is Matters That Matter: At The Trailhead. The intent of our work there is to allow people the time and space to consider where life might be calling them from the trailhead that is their life, and how they can best respond to that invitation. 

It is good work, and a privilege to be asked to return, joining an incredible cohort of presenters from around the world. But what is an even greater privilege is the opportunity to learn right along with those in our audience. The questions we ask them to consider call upon them to be both brave and vulnerable all in the same moment, and if we are going to ask it of them, we must ask it of ourselves as well. So while we are there as teachers, we are also there as fellow learners. 

I never know what I am going to discover when there, but I am certain of one thing; after many trips to this sacred place there are always lessons for me to learn, and I’m looking forward to sharing them with you throughout the week.

Threshold Moments

There are such things as Threshold Moments. Those times when we are invited to step over fear and uncertainty, cross over the border of the familiar and the comfortable, and venture into the unknown. Marking both the ending of what has been, and the beginning of what could be, it is the threshold that bridges the gap.

Sometimes that threshold sits beneath a door that opens inward, summoning us deeper into self-knowledge and awareness. This usually requires that we find the courage to look into our shadows, those parts of ourselves that we prefer to ignore or keep hidden, or those issues and relationships that call for our attention, but are painful, or scary to look at.

At other times we are invited to venture further out, beyond the boundaries we’ve come to count on. Taking risks, embarking on new work, making important changes, and practicing new ways of being in the world.

Threshold moments are game changers, and the choice is always ours to step over the threshold.

Or not.

Either way the game changes.

Knowing Now What We Knew Then

I’ve written exactly two poems in my life, the first in 1973 when I was 20 years old. I know this because I came across it the other day in a manilla envelope with old photos and letters. It was fascinating to look back at what my twenty-year-old self already knew, and while it is clear to me why I haven’t, and never will, make my living as a poet, it is startlingly clear that even back then I had an inner developing wisdom about things I now know for sure.

The words of this young woman were often an inconvenient truth, as I stumbled in and out of love, but in the long run, it is a truth that has served me well.  What did you know when you were twenty that you now know for sure?

Pain and love go hand in hand

one often leading the other.

But the led need not struggle against the leader,

for they both travel to the same place;

They go to the clear, bittersweet pool

of human experience, where each

may drink freely and deeply of one cup.

The water is such that all who look in it

Can see themselves perfectly.

When two people gaze into its depths

They see themselves as they truly are.

Having once gazed into such a pool

One will never again desire to look into the cloudy, shallow pools of comfort,

which do not reflect, but merely swallow the reflection.

When you seek love, look also for pain, and welcome it,

That you too may drink deeply.

Molly Davis, December 6, 1973

Crossing The Ditch

Today Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle and I wandered over to the irrigation ditch behind our house. We are working to expose her to new experiences, while also trusting her sense of timing in exploring each new encounter that is just beyond her comfort zone. Rather than push or rush her, or try to solve her problems for her, we simply invite her to explore the wilderness on the other side of her confidence threshold.

It was a gorgeous sunny day, and once at the ditch, I gave her plenty of leeway on her leash, but not so much that she could turn tail and run from the challenge before her. The bank is grass covered and a bit steep, so I went first. Stepping into the water, I simply stood there and let her get her bearings. She was clearly cautious and curious all at the same time, but curiosity eventually won out. Offering her a treat that coaxed her a few inches closer, she nervously snatched it up, dipped one foot into the water, didn’t like the feeling, and retreated. But not quite as far away as before.

Climbing up the other bank, I continued to leave enough slack in the leash for her to explore her surroundings but not escape. The distance between us was still a bit too far for her, so I returned back into the water, this time holding the treat a bit farther away. Grabbing it, she made a mad dash back up the bank, but by then I was standing on the other side again, with a firm hold on the leash.

Making her way down the bank one more time, she was obviously gauging the distance across the ditch. Clearly, she wanted to get to the other side, she just didn’t want to get her oversized puppy feet wet. Suddenly, with a daring leap, she cleared it, her feet never touching the water.

Go Gracie!

We strolled along the path heading back to the house, still on the far side of the ditch, which meant she had another little stretch of water to negotiate. Finding a new place to cross, we repeated the same basic process, only much quicker as a result of her growing confidence. Wanting to see if she had it in her to stretch herself even further, I continued to step from one side to the other, inviting her to follow. By the end, of our outing, she was splashing her way right through that water to the other side of the ditch.

Go Gracie!

Anytime we challenge ourselves to “cross the ditch”, to stretch the boundaries that have become comfortable and familiar, we are a lot like Gracie.

We don’t like being pushed or rushed as we explore the wilderness on the other side of our confidence threshold.

We need enough room to navigate but not run away from a new challenge.

We need time to get our bearings.

We will probably feel cautious and curious all at once, but given a little time, curiosity has a chance to win out.

We might not like the feeling when we first dip our toe into new water.

We may find ourselves taking a sudden daring leap to the other side, but still not get our feet wet.

And, if we stretch ourselves just a little further, we will eventually find ourselves splashing our way straight through the water to the other side of the ditch.

Go us!

A Safe Space

“The distance between what you want – what you clandestinely imagine in between the ritual tasks of the day – and where you are, is long.

The distance between where you are today and a first action toward what you want is embarrassingly short.

To be confused about the difference between near and far is to free your mind and bind your feet.”

David Berry - Rule13Learning

My first retreat of 2019 is over. Today I witnessed those present spend their precious day considering what it might mean for them to live more closely connected to who they are, why they are here, and where their life is calling them. Theirs was, as it always is, incredibly brave work, and I am humbled and grateful to have been their trail guide.

Today, as in any of my work, my greatest task was to help create a safe space. At the end of this day, here is what I am reminded of once again:

Given a safe space, people are able to engage in breathtakingly courageous thinking.

Given a safe space, people are able to recognize, listen to, and trust their inner teacher.

Given a safe space, people are able to show up for themselves, and for one another.

Given a safe space, people are able to find the courage to take the next right step, no matter how small or large it may be.

The Trailhead

There is a trail leading deeper into our lives, and the trailhead lies squarely beneath our feet. Personally and professionally, taking the next right step begins with a right understanding of where we are now. Moving forward, our task is to follow the trail that connects who we are with how we live, so as not to get lost in a life that isn't our own. 

Today I’m leading a retreat, and we will be considering three questions. Perhaps you’d like to join us.

Where are you now?

Where is life calling you?

How will you get there?

Our lives don't happen by accident; we participate in creating them every day, and one step at a time.