Elder + Connector + Writer
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
One of my pet peeves is people’s reluctance to RSVP to an invitation. It is like they are waiting to see if something better shows up before committing themselves. I should know because I’ve done that myself, but having thrown some pretty great shindigs in my day, I know firsthand that it’s hard to plan a good party when you don’t know who is going to show up.
Every morning arrives with a new invitation to bring who we are and what we have to offer to life’s party. Some times it’s harder than others to commit to the day at hand, and there are times when the best choice is to bow out and catch our breath. But every morning, the invitation is there, waiting for our response s'il vous plaît.
With or without us, the party is being planned. Are we in? Or out?
Photo by samaraagenstvo feeria from Pexels
The more we commit to doing the work of becoming more authentic and whole-hearted, the more we discover about ourselves. The more we discover about ourselves, the more things we find that we love and appreciate about ourselves, and the more things that, well, we don’t. So just what do we do with those things that aren’t what we might call our most endearing qualities?
First we notice them - There it is again.
Then we name them - Hello impatience, anger, defensiveness, fill-in-your-own-blanks.
Then we practice navigating them in better ways when they show up. Take a breath and choose a better response than the knee-jerk one we’ve been perfecting for all these years.
Notice.
Name.
Navigate.
Repeat.
If you’re like me, you’ll get plenty of opportunities to practice.
Pexels - Phtographer: Snapwire
There are parts of myself that I wish I could resolve, put to rest, or leave behind. One of those is the feeling of anger that flashes, usually inwardly, but occasionally outwardly. It’s been with me for as long as I can remember, and yet I would love to think that I could unravel this thread that runs through my life, and leave it behind me for good and all. But the more likely truth is that I can’t, and I won’t, so rather than angst about it, I am learning to accept that it, like all the other parts of me, are probably going to stick around until I leave the planet.
It is an important emotion, and I probably couldn’t survive without it. Anger lets me know when something is out of whack, out of balance, or out of order, and conveys that there is something I need to say, do, or consider. However, sometimes it’s just a flash that gets triggered without a call to some sort of action on my part other than to sit with it until it dissipates. I’ve had therapy about it, processed it, prayed, written and talked about it, figured out where it comes from, who it comes from, and yet for better or for worse, it seems to be here to stay, and will be until I die.
I’ve decided that I can live with that.
Because I am never in more danger of being wrong then when I’m certain that I’m right, and because nobody likes a know-it-all, I’m playing around with some new words.
I could be wrong about that.
You could be right about that.
Believe it or not, it’s actually kind of fun. Most of the time.
Church this week took place in the sacred sanctuary of the great outdoors. A forest that existed long before we were here, and that will live on long after we who gathered together there are gone. Rather than listen to the words of our pastor, she asked us to listen to and learn from the wisdom of the earth and the trees and the wind.
There was no mistaking the message, and the only response possible was to lift our voices together, in words of confession.
We confess that we do not often bother to contemplate the fragile-ness of your creation.
We do not act responsibly.
We do not act in the truth of our connectedness.
We have not loved creation, our neighbors,
or the generations to come as ourselves.
Forgive us, renew us, and lead us in the courage, and the wisdom,
and the will to change.
Amen
When climbing a steep slope, scrambling over boulders, or as we did recently, a combination of both, it is important to remember to always keep three points of contact so as not to lose one’s balance. Falling in such a situation can lead to serious injury or worse. The same is true as we navigate the slopes and boulders and sometimes precarious trails that are our life.
Stay in touch with your soul, your true self.
Stay in touch with your life, the one that you are here to live in order to leave the world better because of you.
Stay in touch with the divine, that which is bigger than you, the presence the surrounds and supports and shelters you.
It was a bucket list trip for the two of us. With the writing of a check for our remaining balance, we were off for five days in the wilderness as seen from the back of a horse. Along with the finances to even be able to afford such a thing, to make this trip happen required two wranglers, four horses, and five, yes that’s right, five pack mules, to haul all of the gear to feed, shelter, and shuttle us through some of the most beautiful terrain we’ve ever seen.
As we headed out from the Wallowa Lake Pack Station and hit the trail, the sight of the mules carrying the load so that we could have a bucket list trip brought one, and only one, word to mind…
Privilege.
The mules were the unsung hero of the trip, as step after steady step, they bore the weight for our journey.
How often do others bear the weight so that I don’t have to?
How many unsung heroes do the work that others won’t so that I can have an easier life?
How often do I neglect to recognize that life is only possible because of the unseen work of others?
The memories of this once-in-a-lifetime-trip will be with me forever. So, I hope, will the image of the mules that made it all possible.
MOLLY DAVIS is the founder of Trailhead Coaching & Consulting. She writes about lessons and adventures from the trail, and knows from firsthand experience that sometimes the only way to discover where you want to be, is to get lost where you don't. If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to pass it along.
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