Holding Your Horses

A few years ago I attended a Cavalia production. Think Cirque du Soleil, on horseback. It was two hours of breathtaking imagery, celebrating the ancient bond between horses and humans. A sensory feast, it captured the imaginations and hearts of the audience, and I was spellbound the entire time. I can’t recommend it highly enough.

There was one act in particular that took my breath away, for both the exquisite beauty, and the emotional impact.

There was a team of six horses, harnessed together in pairs, and the woman holding the reins was standing on the backs of the last two horses. The troupe was galloping around a huge circular ring, and as they rounded each curve, the rider continued to keep one foot on the back of each horse, leaning in to maintain her balance. Around and around and around they went, faster and faster and faster. With every cycle around, it appeared to become increasingly challenging for the rider to maintain her footing on both horses.

Finally, as the horses rounded another curve, the rider stepped fearlessly and flawlessly onto the back of one of her horses.

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She knew exactly when to step off of the back of one horse, and plant herself solidly onto the other.

I think of this beautiful act often. Of the attention and energy it took for the rider to maintain her balance on the backs of two horses while continuing to drive the entire team, the wisdom to know when to step off of one and onto the other, and the courage to take that step.

When faced with decisions and potential change, we are often required to keep a foot on both horses, straddling the present and the future, as we hold onto the reins to guide us into what awaits us as we round the curve. It takes energy and attention to maintain our balance, wisdom to know when to step off, and courage to take that step, planting ourselves firmly on the one horse that will carry us forward.

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Lifting The Burn Ban

Thanks to the arrival of the fall rains and cooler temperatures, the burn ban has been lifted in our little valley.

Every fall we eagerly await the day when we can finally set fire to the slash piles we’ve accumulated throughout the year. Downed trees from a windstorm, branches that have been pruned, skinny lodgepole pines cut down to thin out the forest behind our house, remnants from the garden, rotted fence posts, dried weeds pulled from the beds and edges of the driveway, the broken chair that is beyond repair, last year’s Christmas tree, and various and sundry other burnable debris.

Dressed in our Carhartt jackets and Muck boots, steaming cups of coffee in hand, we set off the burn pile and watch the flames shoot up into the air.

Tending to the fire as it burns through the pile, it goes from roaring flames, to glowing embers, to smoldering cinders, until all that is left is reddened earth, blackened coals, and ash.

Another year.

Another burn pile.

Fall is reminder to lift the burn ban and tend to that which is no longer viable or useful, or maybe never was. To gather together the habits, old stories, irrelevant beliefs, and hardline positions that have quietly accumulated over the course of another year, and burn them away.

The burn ban is lifted. Time to torch the pile.

The Gift Of Feedback

“That which you most need will be found where you least want to look”

– Carl Jung

A university professor recently asked to send me a video of one of her lectures, and requested that I watch it and provide her with feedback. I was both impressed and honored by the request. Impressed, as it always requires courage to actively solicit feedback. Honored, that she would trust my critique. She had watched the video herself, but wanted more insight on how she is coming across to her students. Brava!

Feedback is a gift.

Whether talking about our relationships, our ways of communicating, how we do or don’t show up in the world, how we deliver a lecture, or, how we make a chocolate cake, we all need help rounding out the picture. We need others to speak into our blind spots and help us see what we can’t, even when it means seeing the things we’d rather not.

Feedback is a gift.

The gift isn’t necessarily in the accuracy of the feedback, or whether it is easy or hard to hear, but because it provides a perspective other than our own. None of us has the whole picture when it comes to who we are, how we operate, or how we are experienced by others. Completing our picture requires help.

Feedback is a gift.

For most of us though, the very idea of receiving feedback, solicited or otherwise, conjures up images of learning only about the bad, and the ugly, never considering that we might discover a hefty portion of the good as well.

Feedback is a gift.

If you have any for me, know that I will consider it a gift.

With thanks to the courageous professor.

When To Think About It

I had a conversation with my sister one time in which I shared a situation that had been causing me some anxiety. I still didn’t have the complete picture of the issue, but would soon. However, I didn’t have it yet. And so, as often happens when we don’t have all of the information about something causing us consternation, I started filling in the blanks, connecting dots that weren’t there, and just generally making stuff up. I continued to mull it over, allowing my thoughts to run in circles, and tried to play out all of the possible scenarios in my head.

It was real productive.

During that conversation I mentioned, yet again, that I didn’t want to spend more time and energy worrying and thinking about it. She interrupted me and said “Well, you don’t have to think about it now, because you’ve already scheduled time to get the rest of the information. Until then you don’t have to think about it.”

She was so right. I had set aside dedicated time on my calendar to actually fill in the blanks, and connect the actual dots.

By assigning a specific time to think about it I was able to stop stewing about it.

If you find yourself on the hamster wheel of worry, assign a specific time to think about it.

And think about it then.

(Hat tip to my sister Margie and her never failing big-sister wisdom)

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No! Not That One.

“You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”

~ Elenor Roosevelt

I am an amateur meditator at best, and while I know that I am a better person when I do it, I always feel like I could “do” it better. That I’m never doing it quite right. This leads me to try different ways of meditating, which leads to practicing each approach just long enough to know that I’m still not doing it right. Which leads me to try more ways, which leads to… well… you get the picture.

This was a topic of discussion with Dane Anthony my Spiritual Director. In his wonderful way, he quietly wondered with me if perhaps I could give myself a break and just do it, rather than trying to do it right. He suggested that I pick one way of practicing, and stick with it.

To help me get started, he sent me a page of five possible Breathing Prayers, mantras in which you say a few words as you inhale, and a few more on the exhale.  Choose just one, and then stay with my choice. Period. 

Here are the five he sent, from which I had to choose one:

1. Breath in - “Yah”; Breath out - “weh”

2. Breath in - "God is here.” Breath out - “I am here.”

3. Breath in - “In God we move, Breath out - and have our being”

4. Breath in - “Teach me about letting go… Breath out - “ surrender and trust.”

5. Breath in - “Into your hands…” Breath out - “I commit my spirit.”

Now I don’t know about you, but there is one on that list that would never be my first choice, or my second, third or fourth for that matter. In fact, it would always fall dead last of any number of prayers/mantras/chants that I could choose.

Which of course means…

Deep breath in - I choose…. Deep breath out - Breathing Prayer #4

“Teach me about letting go…

surrender and trust.”

I’m not holding my breath about getting any better at meditating.

But then, I guess that’s not the point.

Photo: Robin Carlisle

God's Idea

“You are exactly what God had in mind when He made you.”

Gregory Boyle S.J.

It’s Sunday, and God and I decided to stay home from church. It is a glorious day outside, and although I love our church, there are days, like today, that I need to engage with the Holy right where I am.

Every morning I start the day with my morning practice of morning coffee, morning reading, and morning meditation. Except on the days I don’t. On those days, I try to remember all of the other days that I do practice.

However.

It can be so easy to forget what we do, and get lost in judgement about what we don’t. (Just FYI, I never go without my morning coffee.)

My current morning book is Barking To the Choir by Gregory Boyle, founder and Director of Homeboy Industries, the largest gang intervention, rehab and reentry program in the world. My last morning book was his too (Tattoos On The Heart), so I guess I’m kind of crazy about him these days. His work, his wisdom, his wit, and his words. In his work with gang members, he reminds them over and over again that they are exactly who God had in mind. They’ve just forgotten, or never knew it in the first place.

“You are exactly what God had in mind…”

Reminding them of this truth opens the door for them to live into it.

When I first came across those words they nearly jumped off the page. Landing squarely in my heart with the ring of Truth, they’ve continued to echo inside, the words bouncing off the walls of my inner canyons, and returning to my ears again, and again, and again.

“You are exactly what God had in mind...”

However.

It can be so easy to forget who we are, and get lost in judgement about who we think we are.

“You are exactly what God had in mind...”

However.

It can be so easy to forget who we are, and get lost in judgement about who others have told us we are.

“You are exactly what God had in mind...”

We are all exactly what God had in mind, and whether we’ve forgotten it, or never knew it in the first place, let’s help each other remember.

“You are exactly what God had in mind...”

Reminding one another of this truth opens the door for us to live into it.

Oh, and in case you’ve forgotten, or somebody has told you differently…

“You are exactly what God had in mind...”

Knock Knock

The lecture was over, and it was Q & A time. The subject had been about how to foster real conversation between people with different political perspectives. How to engage in worthwhile dialogue that would lead to more understanding, the chance to rally around common values and concerns, and find meaningful actions to take together.

The speaker was Jim Wallace, a Christian writer, political activist, and founder and editor of Sojourners magazine. A young man raised his hand with a question that was on all of our minds. “Mr. Wallace, I would really like to engage people who see things differently than I do in conversation, but I don’t have any idea how to do that. Where do I even start?”

Jim Wallace looked down, pondering the question for a long moment. And then he said this:

“You knock on the door that is open.”

That lecture happened 20 years ago, and we are more in need of his wise words than ever. His thoughtful answer to that thoughtful question do not just apply to politics, but to every arena of our lives.

Knocking louder on the same locked door isn’t the answer. Finding a different door just might be.

Mistaken Identity

Do you ever just want to roll back the clock, get a do-over, or have a chance to undo a mistake?

Yeah. Me too.

It was Mother’s Day, about 28 years ago. My young daughters had gotten up early that morning to make me my treasured morning coffee. Waking me up, beside themselves with excitement, they led me to the kitchen, poured a cup, and handed it to me, eagerly waiting for me to take that first sip. I did, and then looked into the cup. It was filled with what looked like water with a couple of drops of coffee mixed in. Looking at the coffee pot, it was filled with the same see-through liquid, and before I even knew what I was doing, I……………… wait for it……………….…………………………………. I poured out my cup. Just dumped it down the drain. Along with the entire pot of coffee.

They hadn’t made it strong enough.

As if that was the point.

There are a million memories of things I did right, and a good portion of my identity lies in the knowledge that I was and am a really good mom. But that Mother’s Day morning still rears its head every now and then, whispering that a good mom would never do such a thing, and I begin to identify myself with that mistake all over again.

Just recently I made a pretty big blunder here in our neck of the woods. Albeit an honest one, it had the potential to have serious consequences for others. Thankfully it didn’t, and I’ve offered my most sincere, as in down to my toes, apology. There is nothing more to do but live with it, learn from it, and move forward.

But my goodness it is easy to get stuck in the cycle of re-living our errors. To try to see our way to a different outcome, and when we can’t, we begin to identify with our mistakes rather than identifying what they have to teach us.

I swear, I would give up coffee forever if I could do either of those moments over again.

But since there are no do-overs, I can’t wait to take that first sip of my treasured cup of coffee tomorrow morning, no matter how strong it is. Or isn’t.

Walking The Refuge

We live near a beautiful wildlife refuge, and we walk it as often as we can.

A combination of oak, pine, and aspen forests, wetlands, and grassy prairies, it offers an ever-changing, always stunning vista as the seasons roll through, and provides habitat for creatures large, small, and everywhere in between.

Photo: Jean Gale

The refuge is a fusion of discovery and quiet familiarity. Discovery because it is always changing, and you never know what you might encounter around the next curve in the trail, or through your binoculars trained across the landscape. Quiet familiarity comes from the well known landmarks, sound of wind in the pines, and the always staggering view of Mt. Adams.

There is a three-mile loop trail that wanders along its edge, with a viewing platform at the midway point from which to catch a possible glimpse of some wildlife.

Walking the refuge is to visit a place of safety, sanctuary, retreat, and shelter.

Walking the refuge is to encounter a fusion of discovery and familiarity.

Walking the refuge is an opportunity to stand on a viewing platform and catch a glimpse of one’s life.

Where is there a refuge for you to walk?

Humility

Life has a way of humbling us. Of reminding us to not think too highly of ourselves or take ourselves too seriously.

Making a mistake in public brings us down a notch.

Taking on challenging work stretches us beyond the laurels on which we’d rather rest.

We go under the surgeon’s knife uncertain of the outcome.

Admitting when we are wrong can make things right in a relationship.

We become well known in our field only to become familiar with failing on a big stage.

When our weakness is on display it showcases our need for others.

The early death of someone we love brings us up short.

Being humbled doesn’t mean being cut down to size.

As Father Greg Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries, the largest gang intervention, rehabilitation and reentry program in the world, writes in Barking To The Choir, “It is, as they say in business, not a downsizing, but a right-sizing.”