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.

Story Time

“You have to understand, my dears, that the shortest distance between truth and a human being is a story.”

~ Anthony De Mello

“The shortest distance between two people is a story.”

~ Patti Digh

Finding our way to the truth can be tricky.

A story can help.

Finding our way to one another can be tricky.

A story can help.

If ever we needed to live in the truth, and in connection to one another, it is now. Sharing our stories is a good place to start.

Photo by Maël BALLAND from Pexels

A Question Worth Answering

Today in another rich conversation with my spiritual director, the topic of things I want to make happen, work I want to step into, but haven’t, came up. Again.

After a thoughtful pause, he quietly posed a question. What has kept you from stepping into it up until now? Now that is a question worth answering.

What is something you have really wanted to do? But haven’t.

What is something you have really wanted to make happen? But haven’t?

What is something you have really wanted to bring to life? But haven’t?

What is something you have really wanted to accomplish? But haven’t?

What has kept you from stepping into it up until now?

Now that is a question worth answering.

For all of us.

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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

The Step To Take

Start close in,
don’t take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step you don’t want to take.

David Whyte

(Excerpted from River Flow: New & Selected Poems )

Today in conversation with another coach, we were reflecting on next steps, and how to pursue what is calling us, right from where we are. In the midst of what is, how do we step closer to what could be? It is easy to get focused on the far horizon, and miss the fertile ground squarely beneath our feet. Wherever we want to go, where we are is the place to start.

Sharing a bit of silence, David Whyte’s poem, Start Close In came to mind, and I introduced the words quoted above to our conversation. Instantly a next step came to mind. One that was close in. A step that wasn’t the first choice, but the right choice.

Wherever we are, there is a next step. One that is close in, and while it may not be the one we want to take, it is the step that will lead us deeper into the life we are called to live.

What is the step you don’t want to take?

The one close in?

Take that one.

With gratitude to DC

Holy Fires

For me to be a saint means to be myself (Thomas Merton)…We owe it to the God who created us, to ourselves, to the people we love, and to all with whom we share this troubled planet, to become “saints”. How else can we run and complete the errand upon which God sent us here?

The Road Back To You by Ian Morgan Cron & Suzanne Stabile

Sometimes someone speaks truth into our lives in a way that changes us. In a way that reminds us of who we are and why we are here.

Recently that happened to me.

Twice.

The first, when a new friend, one I met just last week at Rancho La Puerta, stopped me mid-sentence and said, “Molly, you are a holy fire.” It simultaneously gave me shivers and a lump in my throat then, and gives me the same now as I see her words in print. I knew what she said to be true, in that kind of quiet, deep knowing that happens in such moments.

The second, when my dearest friend of almost 45 years told me that in all of our times of working together, she’s never seen me as she is seeing me now. That I am “at the top of my game”. Again, I knew her words to be true, but at 65 years of age, the top of my game isn’t about building my brand, or establishing myself as a well-known expert, rather, it is about offering my work in service to others. Perhaps that is what being at the top of our game is meant to mean at any age.

I hesitate to even write about this, as it sounds high and mighty, and like I think I’m all that. Quite the opposite. Rather than high and mighty, I feel low, as in grounded on the earth, and small, as in a tiny reflection of what happens whenever we live our lives from the center of our being. Yes, I’ve honed my craft and refined my skills, but I can stake no claim to that holy blaze, other than that I’ve learned to stoke the fire that was laid for me from the beginning. And being at the top of my game? It doesn’t mean showing off…it means showing up.

We are each meant to be a holy fire, and called to be at the top of our game. Let’s remind one another of who we are, by speaking truth that will help us complete the errand upon which we’ve each been sent.

Written with deep gratitude

Begetting

This morning I woke up to messages from two dear friends, each of whom had done something  incredibly courageous.

As a result, I am inspired to be more courageous.

Courage begets courage

Yesterday I had the sacred privilege of witnessing, up close and personal, two acts of vulnerability.

As a result, I am inspired to be more vulnerable.

Vulnerability begets vulnerability.

This past weekend I was able to provide a safe space for a group of women, many of whom did not know one another, to risk connection and truth telling.

As a result, I am inspired to seek more connection, and speak more truth.

Connection and truth beget connection and truth.

This morning I had the opportunity to see what grace under fire looks like as someone moves forward with love and integrity, in spite of the odds.

As a result, I am inspired to act with more grace, love, and integrity, no matter the odds.

Grace, love, and integrity beget grace, love ,and integrity.

Onward.

Together.

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

Grounded

“Ground is what lies beneath our feet. It is the place where we already stand; a state of recognition, the place or the circumstances to which we belong whether we wish to or not. It is what holds and supports us, but also what we do not want to be true; it is what challenges us, physically or psychologically, irrespective of our hoped for needs. It is the living, underlying foundation that tells us what we are, where we are, what season we are in and what, no matter what we wish in the abstract, is about to happen in our body, in the world or in the conversation between the two.

To come to ground is to find a home in circumstances and in the very physical body we inhabit in the midst of those circumstances and above all to face the truth, no matter how difficult that truth may be; to come to ground is to begin the courageous conversation, to step into difficulty and by taking that first step, begin the movement through all difficulties, to find the support and foundation that has been beneath our feet all along; a place to step onto, a place on which to stand, and a place from which to step.”

- from Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words by David Whyte

The Hose We Step On

 “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything – anger, anxiety, or possessions – we cannot be free.” Thich Nhat Hanh

If you are anything like me, it is so very easy to get in our own way.  To hang on too tightly. To listen to the voice of fear, and then choose to believe it. To project ourselves into the worst case scenario, and then proceed to live there. Or, as my favorite (ok, my only) brother-in-law irreverently and succinctly puts it, we step on our own hose.  

All of these self-protective maneuvers do one thing, and one thing only. They stop us in our tracks. Hunkered down in our self-made bunkers, imprisoned in the midst of our fear, uncertainty, and desire for control, we forget that we hold the keys to our own freedom. But we are clinging so tightly to our imagined control that our hands aren’t free to grasp them.  

When stuck in our own muck, as my favorite (ok, my one and only) sister says, it’s time to make friends with the truth. It’s time to take stock of exactly where we are, and exactly what we have to work with. Armed with the truth, even if we don’t like it, we can begin to cast our eyes to the necessary road ahead, and as we envision the light at the end of our tunnel, it becomes the beacon towards which we walk. One step at a time, taken as quickly as we can manage and with as much courage as we can muster, we create momentum in the right direction. Add to that a  few trusted souls in our camp, and we are on our way.

The antidote to fear is the truth, and the truth sets us free to take action.

It’s as simple as that, and as hard as it gets.  

Onward. 

Upward. 

Together.