Faithful To The Work

“The shortest way to do many things is to do only one thing at a time.”

~ Mozart

When we were building our home, my husband took on the task of staining the upstairs floor. No small task.

The floor measured approximately 800 sq. ft.

Each board had to be stained.

Twice.

By hand.

With a 4” brush.

While on his hands and knees.

It’s the kind of job that makes me want to enter a witness protection program.

The work took multiple days to finish. Probably because I was feeling a little guilty for not helping, or even offering to, I would regularly wander upstairs with water, or coffee, or a beer. How are you ever going to get this all done? I wondered aloud. He thought for a moment. Just one board at a time.

That is called being faithful to the work.

The work was to stain the floor. The floor would become the solid foundation upon which we would live. He wasn’t all wrapped around the axle about how long it was going to take. Or how hard it was. Or how tedious it was. He was simply faithful to the work.

One brush stroke at a time. One board at a time

Dip the brush into the stain.

Brush it onto the board.

Repeat.

Until one day there was a beautiful, rustic wood floor upon which our life continues to unfold. And it is there because someone was faithful to the work of staining one board at a time.

Let’s be faithful to our work. All of it. Not get all wrapped around the axle about how long it is going to take. Or how hard it is. Or how tedious it can sometimes feel. Simply be faithful to the work that is ours to do, whatever that work may be.

We are all meant to contribute, in our own unique ways, to the solid foundation upon which we all live. Which is exactly what can happen when we are each faithful to the work that is ours to do.

Just take it one board at a time.

Creative Foraging

“The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them.”

~from Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert

I always think of spring as the signal that new life is about to emerge. Bulbs push their way up through the earth, and new buds protrude on branches. That which has lain dormant through the winter hears the wake-up call of the spring rains.

But what about the rain that arrives in the fall?

It’s raining today, and we’ve been eagerly anticipating this much needed rainfall for weeks. After another exceptionally dry summer in our neck of the woods, the threat of fire has loomed large. With this precipitation we can all start to breathe a little easier, and the trails that have been closed due to fire danger will be opened up for hearty hikers. The burn ban will be lifted soon which means that we can set off our slash piles. Hunters have a better chance of bagging an elk when the weather turns cold and wet. Leaves fall and decay, downed trees continue to rot, the earth falls silent, and new growth feels months away.

Except for the wild mushrooms.

Chantrells are the crown jewels of the fall, and we wait for the rain that will call them forth. We forage for these elusive exquisite treasures of the woods, looking for the telltale bulge at the base of a tree that gives away their hiding place. Coming home with even one of these is worth the effort it takes to find it.

Today as the rain continues to fall outside my window, I’ve started to wonder if what is true of the wild mushroom is true of our work? Fall doesn’t naturally call forth new growth as we make our way to the end of another year. This is the time we focus on hitting our goals, finishing up projects, and checking things off of our end-of-the-year lists. Our creativity falls silent, and fresh new ideas can feel months away.

But what if?

What if there is a creative jewel just waiting for to be called forth by the rain?

What if there is an elusive treasure that could be food for creative thought?

What if we started looking for the telltale sign of an idea pressing up through the soil?

Bringing forth even one of these would be worth the effort it takes to find it.

There are still three months left. Plenty of time to forage.

Photo: Stefan Holm Shutterstock ID: 86126398

To-Do or Not-To-Do?

“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

~ Annie Dillard

I’m a great list maker. Lists are my secret to success in a lot of areas:

• Getting ready for a dinner party list

• Packing for a trip list

• Planning a wedding/birthday bash/ family reunion list

• Costco/Trader Joes/New Seasons/Target run list

• Christmas shopping list

• Preparing for a keynote address or retreat list

• Book off to the publisher list

• Cleaning the garage list

• Whatever-needs-doing-getting-done list

As you can tell, I love me a good list. Which is why I was intrigued by Dane Anthony’s recent essay to consider making a new kind of list. A To-NOT-Do list.

While the name of the list alone was enough to pique my interest, the name of the person who wrote it sealed the deal. Dane has a Spiritual Direction practice in which he seeks to create a peaceful and safe space for the soul to emerge, which he does by listening without agenda. Having engaged him as my Spiritual Director, I can tell you that this is exactly what he does. He is one of the most gifted listeners I’ve ever met, and because I’ve come to deeply trust him and our work together, I decided to trust in the wisdom of creating my own To-NOT- Do List. Dane’s work is rooted in the belief that we are meant to live an undivided life, with ourselves, others and God, and if making a To-NOT-Do List can help me get a little closer to that…well then sign me up.

Here are a few things that showed up on my To-NOT-Do List as soon as my pen hit the page:

• Be complacent

• Settle

• Wake up and check ANY of my devices until after my morning ritual of quiet, reading,

  meditation, AND of course, my first sacred cup of French press coffee

• Get lost in the menial at the expense of the meaningful

• React out of fear

• Make it all about me

If you are intrigued by the idea of a new kind of list too, read Dane’s thoughtful post below, and then see what words come out when your pen hits the page.

(Oh, and if you are intrigued by the idea of pursuing a Spiritual Director…think about putting that on your To-DO List.)

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A To-Not-Do List

DANE ANTHONY //SELF CARE//10.03.18

I was taken recently by the question of what my “To-Do” lists really do for me? I’ve made them and crossed things off for years. There are seasons in which these seemingly helpful lists prove a profitable exercise; a place to deposit the endless undone things I must attend to. Certainly, they can be helpful in acknowledging things that are necessary and need my attention. In other seasons, these lists, or at least the propensity to create them, feel more like a perpetual exercise in all the things that are undone. It is as if they are frantically waving their arms to point to what I’m not accomplishing.  

What do my “To-Do” lists really do for me?

In conversation with someone the other day, I came to consider what would it be like to make a “To-NOT-Do” list – a list of the things I do not need to be doing. What on earth would a list like that contain? Might this list be one that offers me some needed permission to care for myself; to see myself as more than what I accomplish or cross off? Am I able to allow or consider things I don’t want to do apart from my inclination to be productive? Can I approach this list without a shame-motivation but from a desire for space and freedom and creativity?

Might this list be one that offers me some needed permission to care for myself; to see myself as more than what I accomplish or cross off?

A quick flash of what this list would look like might be something like:

To-NOT-Do:

Worry
Stress
Hurry
Be Co-dependent
Meddle
Judge
Rage
Argue

I don’t know what this would look like for you, but my list came to me pretty quickly, so I’m aware of my need for the gifts that not doing each of them would offer. It also seemed that I could find a lot of other things to put on this list that don’t appear here. What has kept me from making a list like this, I wondered?

It seems that the messages we receive culturally, and those we create internally, are often driven by shame that we need to accomplish or perform to be accepted, to be worthy, to be enough. 

It seems that the messages we receive culturally, and those we create internally, are often driven by shame that we need to accomplish or perform to be accepted, to be worthy, to be enough. That sure feels true for me when I look at my “To-Do” lists. I do NOT sense that when I look at my “To-NOT-Do” list above. This list feels like it has kindness present in it; an open space for me to engage with my desires and intentions, and with others as they are.

What might you have on your own “To-NOT-Do” list?

Keeping The Faith

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

~ Hebrews 11:1

Fifteen miles as the crow flies, out in front of our home, sits Mt. Adams, a 12,281 ft. high volcano in the Cascade Mountains of Washington State. It was the mountain that first drew us to this piece of land, and the day that we decided to stake our claim here, the mountain was out in all of its glory. I knew then, as I have every day since that I would never, ever take for granted this beautiful place in which live.

We built our home to maximize the view of the mountain, and almost without fail, when someone visits our home for the first time, they walk in, and if the sky is clear and the mountain in full view, their first words are something to the effect of “Wow! Look at that. Did you plan your house so that you could have that view?”

Ummm…Yes.

But for me, it is about so much more than a spectacular view. The mountain is a daily reminder of my daily need for faith.

You see, there are days when the mountain is shrouded in clouds, and not visible at all from morning till night.

On those days I have to remember, that even when I can’t see the mountain, the mountain is still there.

There are other days when the mountain is partly hidden behind the clouds that blow through our valley.

On those days I have to remember, that even when I can’t see all of the mountain, the mountain is still all there.

This past summer, with fires raging to both the north and south, it was hidden for days on end behind the terrible, suffocating smoke.

On those days I have to remember, that even when I can’t see the mountain, the mountain is still there.

Every day I am in need of faith. And at this particular time in our world, I am in need of it more than ever.

Faith in the creator, and in creation itself.

Faith in the triumph of love over fear, and good over evil.

Faith in humanity, and in myself.

Faith to keep going when I feel like giving up.

Faith to keep writing when the words don’t come easy.

Faith to show up as myself when tempted to hide behind my own wall.

Faith to speak up when it would be easier to stay silent.

Faith to keep putting my work out there when I’d rather play it safe.

While it may be true that faith can move a mountain, I’ve learned that a mountain can move me to have faith. Because even when I can’t see the mountain, I know that the mountain is still there.

The Practice Field

“I believe that we learn by practice. Whether it means to learn to dance by practicing dancing or to learn to live by practicing living, the principles are the same. In each, it is the performance of a dedicated precise set of acts, physical or intellectual, from which comes shape of achievement, a sense of one's being, a satisfaction of spirit. One becomes, in some area, an athlete of God.”

~ Martha Graham

Recently I was listening to Seth Godin in conversation with Krista Tippett, host of the On Being podcast (the unedited version). My ears perked up when he recounted a time that he chose to “fire” one of his biggest clients because they were jerks. It was a bold, brilliant, and yes, a financially risky move. His reason for drop-kicking that client out the door? He didn’t want his company to get good at working with jerks!

His story inspired me to call Alaska Airlines earlier today. We’ve been mileage plan members for a long time, and probably always will be. Not because they are always the cheapest, or have the best routes, but because of the people, and the care they take every single time I fly with them, or call them for help finding a flight or resolving a problem. They’ve proven themselves over and over again to be worthy of our loyalty. Condor, one of their partner airlines however, has not. After a recent trip on Condor, I can safely say we will never fly them again. They were jerks. I guess you just can’t trust a big vulture.

I called Alaska to encourage them to consider their partner airlines carefully. Why? Because I don’t want them to get good at working with jerks.

Seth Godin’s story applies to more than just business.

It applies to every single aspect of life.

Every single one.

We get good at what we practice.

Let’s choose wisely.

Ending Well Matters

Thomas Merton wrote, for me to be a saint means for me to be myself… 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 on which God sent us here?”

from The Road Back To You: Ian Cron & Suzanne Stabile

I first posted this piece in March of 2016. Maybe it’s because of the fact that every day I grow closer to my own end here on planet earth, but ending well feels more important than ever.

The ending is what stays with people.

The ending is our last word on whatever it is we have just completed.

The ending says even more about who we are than any beginning ever will.

There are always endings in front of us, and however small or large those endings may be, finishing well then and there, begins right here and now.

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No matter what it is, ending well matters. 

Whether retirement from a meaningful career, ending a relationship, navigating a courageous conversation, saying goodbye to a parent, or the last line in your manuscript, ending well there starts right here. By now we have hopefully learned that absolute control over anything is...well..a joke. However, mindful consideration of a desired outcome can help us better order our steps from here to there.  But while we can work mightily to achieve a goal, make things go our way, craft a specific outcome, influence another person, or take all the right steps, there will always be an element of "it's a crap shoot". If we focus solely on exactly how we would like things to turn out, we've missed the deeper issue. What matters even more than how it turns out, is who we are when it does. The essence of beginning with the end in mind can be summed up in one question: When the end of whatever "it" is comes, who do we want to be? 

Examples of endings are everywhere. Some that end well, and others, not so much. Whether you are an NFL fan or not, this years Super Bowl is a prime example. The Carolina Panthers, led by their talented, brash young quarterback Cam Newton, were the hands-down favorite. Expected by everyone, including themselves, to win. They didn't.  By a long shot.  An hour after the game, Cam Newton stepped in front of the microphone as the leader of his team, to fulfill his media obligation.  Hoodie pulled low over his face, he sat in a chair, eyes down, gave short sullen answers until getting up and walking out mid-interview. Did he want to win?  Of course!  Why else would he play the game?  Had he given thought to who he wanted to be, win or lose?  Apparently not.  Compare that to last years Super Bowl when the Seattle Seahawks, led by their talented, humble young quarterback Russell Wilson, experienced an even more devastating loss.  Expected by many, including themselves to win, they didn't. Within seconds of winning the game, with that ill-fated, still debated call.... they lost.  An hour later Russell Wilson stepped in front of the microphone as the leader of his team, to fulfill his media obligation.  Suit and tie, he stood, faced the camera, expressed appreciation for his teammates, took responsibility for the loss, and praised the winning team. Did he want to win?  Yes!  Why else would he play the game? Had he given thought to who he wanted to be win or lose?  Apparently so.

One of the greatest lessons in ending well came for me personally when my mom passed away.  Her name was Ashby, and the word that best describes who she was and how she walked through the world is 'grace'. There was nothing Asbhy loved more than what she liked to call a "good visit".  Whenever you showed up on her doorstep, announced or not, whatever the task at hand was set aside and replaced with a cup of tea, served in her best china.  She was short on advice and long on understanding. She loved by listening. The last week of her life we brought her back from the hospital to the home she loved and tucked her into the bed she still shared with my dad.  Every day was filled with her grace, along with a constant stream of friends and family who came by for one more good visit. They would sit on her bed and talk to her, sing to her, laugh and cry with her. No longer able to speak, she did what she did best.  She loved by listening. After she was gone, I realized that I had been given the opportunity to stand at the end of her life, and look back on my own. From that vantage point I understood that ending her life with grace wasn't the result of some grand decision, but rather is an accumulation of choices. That realization reminds me of a quote from Mr. Carson, the butler of Downton Abbey.  "The business of life is the accumulation of memories.  In the end, that's all we have."  The way in which we end things is either the accumulation of a memory or a regret.  To gather more memories, begin with the end in mind.

What endings are on your radar screen? When the end of whatever "it" is comes, who do you want to be? What would ending well in those situations mean? Now is when ending well starts. Here is where it begins. This present moment is what you have to work with.

Sunset on Mt. Adams - Tom Pierson

Silent Witness

"Pooh!" he whispered. 

"Yes, Piglet?" 

"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."

~ Winnie the Pooh

Everything happens for a reason.

Absolutely.

Everything happens for a reason.

Whatever happens in our life is a result of something.

Everything happens for a reason.

Whatever happens isn’t being done to us to teach us a lesson.

Everything happens for a reason.

We learn through our response to whatever happens.

Everything happens for a reason.

A little collection of words so often and so lightly thrown out there when something painful, difficult, or unwanted occurs. Simple words that try and make sense of something that can’t yet be understood, and maybe never will be.

Everything happens for a reason.

And when it does, our silent witness can be more powerful than spoken words, and our companionship more comforting than cliches.

However cliche is may sound, actions usually do speak louder than words.

Words To Live By

Remember who you are and what you stand for.

Good Grief

“It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.”

~ John O’Donohue (Excerpt from For Grief )

Love and loss walk hand-in-hand.

Whenever we open the door to love, we open it to grief as well.

Whenever we say yes to love, we say yes to pain as well.

Whenever we open our hearts to love, our hearts will eventually be broken open by loss as well.

Right now there are people near and dear to me who, having opened their hearts to love, are now having them broken open by loss. While their losses differ, are all deeply felt, and whether it is the loss of a friend, a relationship, a career, a pet, or a dream, they are in the midst of mourning, which my friend, the poet Ann Staley, calls “that ancient form of love”.

When my mom died almost 20 years ago, the church where we held her service was overflowing. My dad had chosen to have hers be an open casket, with time for any who wanted, to pass by and wish her well. Her grandchildren were all there, and my siblings and I had talked to them about what to expect should they visit her open casket. The choice was theirs to walk up and peek in on her or not. As of the beginning of the service they hadn’t yet decided. At the end of the service, all of these young cousins gathered together in the aisle, standing close, heads together, arms around one another, tears flowing freely. Then, as one, they walked up to the coffin, and surrounded the grandmother they loved. Each one, unknown to the others, had brought something to tuck into her coffin. A tiny ceramic squirrel, in honor of those pesky creatures that robbed the bird feeders outside my parents window. Small shells collected during an annual beach trip. Small individual mementos, of the small individual moments, that had shaped the loving memory, in which they collectively held her.

No one can really teach us how to grieve, but we can learn how to do it together.

There is a cleansing that takes place when we grieve with our whole hearts. By moving through it, rather than hiding from it, we come out the other side made more whole by our willingness to be broken. It is a good grief.

And so, we mourn. That ancient form of love.

Image and Small Vases by Kristine Van Raden

Where The Buck Stops

“Let us not seek to fix the blame for the past. Let us accept our own responsibility for the future.”

` John F. Kennedy

Oh, it is so easy to blame someone else for our troubles. To find fault elsewhere. To see cause that is outside of our own agency. To pass the buck.

When a problem with a relationship arises, it is often easier for me to see what the other person did to create it, than look for what part I might have played. If something doesn’t turn out the way I expected, I’m tempted to turn over every other rock to find the cause except the one laying at my feet. If I don’t get what I thought I paid for, I can be quick to demand a refund and slow to consider that perhaps I didn’t do my homework before pulling out my credit card.

Whether it is an issue in a relationship, a breakdown in communication, a lack of clarity around expectations, or a disappointing result, if I am willing to look closely, I can almost always find what role, no matter how small, I might have played in the way things turned out. When I take ownership for what is mine, there is almost always something I can do to address the situation. When I allow the buck to stop at my desk before moving on, it allows me to look for ways that I can take action to help resolve the conflict, bring closure, clear the air, extend forgiveness, offer an apology, bring clarity, open a door, resolve the problem, or change the outcome.

I’m not saying that others aren’t culpable for their part of the bargain.

They are.

So am I.

Viborg Cathedral - Viborg, Denmark