Changing Our Spots

Changing Our Spots

June 20, 2016 Molly Davis

Not too long ago I had an eye-opening, heart-stopping conversation with my husband. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

In case you don't know me well enough to have discovered this, I can be a tad defensive. That might be putting it mildly. For a myriad of reasons, from family dynamics to past relationships, my dukes go up anytime I sense that someone is trying to tell me what to do, or correct me in an area that I either, a) know that I'm pretty damn competent, or b) want to do it my way or the highway, come hell or high water. The motto "Don't fence me in." is music to my ears.

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A Call To Arms...of Grace.

This past Sunday morning, after the horrific Orlando mass shooting, my heart was heavy, my heart was confused, my heart was angry, and my heart was broken. Sitting together with others in our church I found that we all had hearts that were heavy, hearts that were confused, hearts that were angry and hearts that were broken. Seventeen years ago, this same church voted to become an "Open and Affirming church" which meant throwing the doors wide open and offering an extravagant welcome to all. Not just to those who look like us, sound like us, think like us, believe like us, vote like us, worship like us, or, love like us.

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In Remembrance Of...

 

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The Podium

 

The Podium

May 14, 2016 Molly Davis

Recently I facilitated a two-day leadership experience for a small cohort of professionals. This was their final session, and they had some good, hard work to do in order to leverage the investment in their own learning and leadership development. They were a small group. Six to be exact, and we were working in a smallish conference room that kept us in close proximity to one another. No need for a podium or microphone for sure,

It was indeed good, hard work as is always the case when we choose to take on our own development,when we choose to show up fully for ourselves so that we can show up fully for those we serve.

I love this kind of work. Close, intimate and small-scale. 

But that isn't what this post is about.

It's about the podium. 

 

 

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Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Stuck.

Who hasn’t felt that way at one time or another?  Everyone gets it.  No one likes it. We all know that feeling of being stuck, unable to get out, hemmed in, trapped.  There are times when we find ourselves trapped between a rock and a hard place, and when we do, our first reaction is usually to try to get out.  Now!  Alarm sets in and the flailing begins, as we look for any and every way out of the place in which we are wedged.

But.  

What if we aren’t stuck at all?

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The Art of the Question

In twenty-something years of coaching and facilitating, if I've learned only one thing, it is that people can almost always find their way to their own answers. My job is to create the space within with they can engage in their own courageous thinking in order to hear their own courageous answers. The right question, at the right time is an invitation to step through our own inner doorway and into that space so that we can hear ourselves think. I can tell when I've posed the right question to a client or a roomful of clients, because there is almost always a look of "knowingness" that crosses their faces. They know the answer because they've been asked the right question.

The questions we ask lead to the answers we find.

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What Do You Want?

In an interview by Krista Tippet (on my go-to podcast On Being), the late Irish poet John O'Donohue recounts growing up in the midst of the wild and harshly beautiful landscape of Ireland. He would often return home from the fields after dark, his path taking him through a deserted village that he was sure was filled with the ghosts of those who had lived there in years gone-by.  A young child in a dark and deserted village filled with ghosts? I envision the young poet covering his ears and running through the dark and scary village as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Our inner landscapes have their own dark and deserted villages inhabited by our own ghost stories.

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It's Just Hard

It was the end of a long day. 

At the end of a long week.

At the end of a long month.... I could keep riffing on that but I think you probably recognize the tune.

We were approaching the end of the class, all standing in our best versions of Warrior III pose, and we had at least another 30 seconds to go.  Legs shaking, core trembling, ankles wobbling and arms aching, my inner yogini was threatening mutiny.  "This is SO hard." she hissed.

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Fishing On The Other Side of The Boat

It's Holy Week, which reminds me of an experience I had in church a number of years ago.  Settling into the pew, I looked up at the pulpit and saw that rather than our regular pastor, who was once hailed in USA Today as one of the Top 10 Sermon Givers in the country, stood a fellow parishioner who could have been voted most likely to be called "Milk-toast".  Needless to say I was not looking forward to what I could only imagine was going to be a bland, boring and timid message. Pulling out a pen and paper I decided to at least be productive while he droned on, and started a robust to-do list.  And then I got the nudge.  You know, that sacred inner voice?  It said, "put the pen down and listen up.  Now!" 

Mr. Milk Toast proceeded to kick my judgemental ass right off my smug little pedestal. He recounted the familiar story of a few of the disciples who went out to catch some fish. Theywere fishermen with lots of experience, and so loaded themselves and their nets into a boat and headed out. All night long they cast their nets off to the left side of the boat, and every time, the nets came up empty.  Exhausted at morning light, they were about to give up, when their Friend appeared on the shore.  He yelled at them to cast their nets off to the right side of the boat, the opposite of what they had done over and over and over.  I'm sure they thought it couldn't make any difference.  It was all the same water.  But, they gave it a go anyway....cast their nets off the opposite side of their boat.  The nets filled with so many fish they could barely haul it in. 

Same boat. 

Same fishermen. 

Same nets. 

Different side of the boat.  

Since most of us don't fish for a living, what does it mean to fish on the other side of our own boats? Ever since hearing that sermon, when I find myself stuck in a rut, heading for my familiar go-to reaction or beating the same drum only louder, I try to stop and ask myself: At this moment, in this place, in this situation, what would it mean for me to fish on the other side of my boat? And then I try, to the best of my ability, to do it. And then I usually catch some fish. And then I eat some humble pie for having been so stubborn about doing things my way... except that the humble pie tastes a lot like milk toast.  

Small Step(s) = Big Shift(s)

Close your eyes for a moment. 

Imagine yourself at the trailhead. (Hint: If you need a little help, open one eye and peek down at your feet. It's right there. The trailhead is always right there.) With your feet pointing straight ahead, think about your trajectory. Over time, if you keep heading in that direction where will you end up? If you are on track, heading where you want to go, then by all means keep on keeping on.

However, if your direction could use a bit of adjustment, you've drifted off course, or find yourself stuck in a familiar rut, imagine stepping your feet ever so slightly to the right or left so that they are pointing in a slightly different direction. You don't have to do an about face (unless you know that you actually do) or make a ninety-degree turn.  I'm talking just a smidge here. While this very small adjustment changes your trajectory in a very small way today, over time your path will gradually diverge from your current course, and that small step to the left or right will lead to a big shift in direction.

What is one small step, in a slightly different direction, that might shift your course to point you in the direction that is calling to you?