Only Two Days In

Last year felt like it lived me instead of the other way around. Like the year grabbed me by the hand, took off at full tilt, and never let go. On the doorstep of 2020 I had one recurring thought.

I don’t want the year to get away from me.

I found myself saying it over and over again.

I don’t want the year to get away from me.

I don’t want the year to get away from me.

Did I mention that I don’t want the year to get away from me?

In preparation for the year two-thousand and twenty, I’ve spent a bit of time mulling over how to develop a rhythm that, like our breath and our beating hearts, makes time and space for inhaling and exhaling, for emptying out and filling up. I’ve reminded myself of what and who matter, starting close in and moving out from there. I’ve recommitted myself to the habits and practices necessary to live fully engaged in the year ahead so that I am better able to generously offer what I can, and graciously bow out of what I can’t.

Only two days into the new year, I can already see how easily we fall into familiar habit patterns and ways of responding to what life brings our way. With only two days under my belt, I can see how the year can grab us by the hand, take off at full tilt, and before we know it, year end fireworks are going off and the ball is about to drop in Time Square.

Let’s not let that happen.

Like A Hawk

In front of our home there is an expanse of open field that stretches out toward the mountain. Trees are scattered around the perimeter, and on any given day It is likely that you will find one of the many hawks that call our little valley home perched on the top of one of those trees. From that vantage point they are able to scan the entire field for possible prey. These sharp eyed birds don’t spend all of their time on a tree top, nor do they endlessly fly about in search of their next meal. They seem to know that in order to survive, it is necessary to get a good look at the bigger picture before heading out to do what hawks do.

When it comes to us humans, we could take a lesson from these birds of prey. It is easy to get so caught up in our daily rounds that we forget to take time to pull back and get the big picture view. We simply go and do. Go and do. And, go and do some more.

Any free space on our calendars gets filled by the next request, because rather than pause and head to a nearby treetop, we swoop in on the date and time, and if it’s open, we let the next commitment snatch it up. Simply doing something because we can isn’t necessarily a reason to do it.

If we want to spend our days and expend our energy on who and what we value, we have to learn to pull back and get a hawk’s-eye view of the field that is our life.

Photo by Harrison Haines from Pexels

Traction

It’s been two weeks since I took on the challenge of becoming a better steward of my time. (See The Days of Our Lives ) By determining who and what matter to me, the end result was a framework for how I spend my time, and where I spend my energy. That framework is quickly becoming a platform for making decisions that are in line with who I want to be and what I want my life to be about. Taking the time to get clear about all of that is creating traction in multiple directions. Everything from getting more sleep and exercise, envisioning and crafting new work, connecting with people and getting time to myself, to getting the everyday necessities done. Before going through the process two weeks ago, I was having a hard time getting purchase in any of those areas.

Traction is important.

Traction is what keeps us moving in the right direction.

Traction is what helps us stay on the trail when the going gets slippery.

Traction is what helps us get a grip…and keep it.

No matter what chapter of life we are in, we all need traction to will help us keep on keeping on in the right direction.

Photo by Vedran Miletić from Pexels

The Days Of Our Lives

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

Annie Dillard

I have a love-hate relationship with time. I love that I have it and am grateful for every moment that is mine. I hate how hard it is to corral it, and to create a framework that enables me to spend those moments in meaningful ways.

There is no question that time is one of the most valuable resources entrusted to us, and like any other asset at our disposal, it is about so much more than mere management. It is about stewardship.

What will we do with the time we have?

It seems like a question worthy of some serious consideration, and today was my day to consider.

Taking different colored sticky notes, I created four categories, and the endeavors and activities that fall under each. Putting them up in separated columns on the wall, I began moving the pieces around to reflect my priorities. It wasn’t an exercise in creating a longterm plan. I was building a platform for creating a life.

When the picture felt complete, I began playing around with the calendar function shared on all of my devices. I use iCal exclusively for organizing my days, and so assigned a different color to each category so that my calendar visually mirrored the sticky notes on the wall.

While providing ample time for each category, I also built in margins. Times that provide a buffer and build in a sense of spaciousness. Looking at this newly emerging framework, I was reminded that just because there is open space on my calendar doesn’t mean I need to fill it. I began to get a glimpse of how knowing what matters will help me know what to do when, and make more clear what is mine to do. And, what is not. The further along in the process, the more I could see how I can better connect who I am at my core with how I live out in the world.

It’s still a work in progress, and hopefully will be until I run out of the moments that are mine to live. I can expect that for the rest of my days the unanticipated, good, bad, and otherwise, will show up and blow a carefully planned day out of the water, because time is meant to be fluid, not rigid.

Annie Dillard is right.

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

Which means, of course, that to be good stewards of our lives, we must first become good stewards of our days.

In case you’re wondering, my categories were: Molly; People; Vocation; Everything Else. In that order.

What are yours?

Paris Clock Photo: Tom Pierson

Autumn's Invitation

Fall is my favorite time of the year. I love the quality of the light, the chill in the air, and the gradual shortening of the days. It is also a gentle reminder that we are not here forever. That our time on earth is limited, and that it is up to us to decide what we will sow in the service of what we hope to harvest.

While autumn doesn't officially begin until September 23rd, it feels like summer is over. School is back in session, summer vacations are a memory, and there are four months left before a new year begins. It seems to be a time of invitation to bring a little more structure to our days, and to consider what we hope to create and bring to life in what remains of the year. To reflect once again on what matters, and channel our energies in that direction.

As Annie Dillard says, How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. As summer once again gives way to autumn, let’s take time to consider how we want to spend our days.

Photo by Lisa Fotios from Pexels

Just Three Things

It’s been a crazy few weeks filled with good work, people I care about, unexpected adventures, and I wouldn’t change any of it. Being present for everything and everyone has meant letting other things and people slide until today. This morning I identified three things to accomplish by the end of the day. Just three. No more, no less.

• Organize and clear my desk.

• Get the mental clutter out of my head and down on paper.

• Write a blog post.

With an organized desk, an epic brain dump, and this blog completed, I’m ready for new adventures.

What three things could you accomplish that would set you free for new adventures?

Tethering

There is a tool when raising a puppy or training a dog called tethering.

Tethering means that if you are with your dog and not actively training, or the dog is in their crate or some other assigned rest area, you and your dog are basically attached at the hip. Literally. You attach a leash around your waist, and clip it onto your dog’s collar. Where you go, the dog goes, training her to stay close, strengthening the bond between you and your dog, and allowing you to observe and respond to her behaviors appropriately. Rewarding what you want. Ignoring or correcting what you don’t.

Gracie, our 14 week old chocolate labradoodle and I are becoming increasingly comfortable with this tethering routine. She is relaxing into it, sticking closer sooner, and is starting to offer behaviors that get rewarded, and learning to avoid those that do not. Left to her own devices, without this practice, it would be easy for her to wander, ok, race, into territory where she could do harm to herself, her surroundings, and other dogs or people.

Standing at the counter with her calmly sitting by my side, it struck me that left to our own devices, untethered from our true self, and our values, beliefs, and priorities, we too can wander, ok, maybe race, into territory where we can do harm to ourselves, our surroundings, and other people.

In order to attach ourselves closely to our deepest values, beliefs, and priorities, we have to know who we are and what we care about, and then tether ourselves closely enough that when tempted to wander off course, we are pulled up short. The way I stay tethered to what matters is by declaring my bedrock beliefs. To trusted family, friends and colleagues, giving them permission to check me if they see me straining against the leash. On my website or at the beginning of a retreat, workshop, or keynote, I declare them publicly, compelling me to stay accountable to what I profess. When struggling to stay true to who I am, there are trusted professionals to help me do the inner work necessary to live into my truest self.

Gracie doesn’t always love tethering, but as I stay calm, solid and strong, she is learning to trust the bond being created by sticking close.

If Gracie can do it, so can we.

Hitting The Reset Button

“It’s never too late to be what you might have been.”

~ George Elliot

After a year of slow recovery and rehabbing from an injury, and taking my eye off the nutrition ball a little too much, it is time to reclaim the good habits that I’ve come to know support the kind of health, wellness, energy, and body I need for the life I want to live.

Today I hit the reset button.

Today I started the Whole30.

According to the founders, it is a “short-term nutrition reset, designed to help you put an end to unhealthy cravings and habits, restore a healthy metabolism, heal your digestive tract, and balance your immune system.”

In a nutshell, it means eliminating sugar of any kind, alcohol, grains, legumes, dairy, and all additives. I can, however, have coffee, which is the only thing that makes it possible. It may not work for everyone, and I’m not advocating it for anyone else, but it works for me.

Hitting the reset button is always an option, and not just for our health, but for our finances, marriages, friendships, family, education, work, mental, emotional, and spiritual health, not to mention our closets and garages.

If we’re honest with ourselves, we know when we’ve gotten off track, become immobilized, or have lost our way, and the sooner we hit the reset button, the sooner we can get on with living the life we want. The one we are called to live. The one that is authentic and wholehearted. The one that connects how we live with who we are at our core.

It’s never too late to hit the reset button.

True North

There are such things as magnetic moments. Times when we sense an inner pull, an invitation to step more fully into our lives, calling us to our own true north, that unique, authentic, wholehearted life that is ours, and only ours, to live. 

Magnetic moments ask us to step over the threshold of uncertainty and fear, cross over the border of the familiar and the comfortable, and venture into the unknown. Marking both the ending of what has been, and the beginning of what could be, it is the threshold that bridges the gap. Sometimes that threshold sits beneath a door that opens inward, drawing us deeper into self-knowledge and awareness. This usually requires that we find the courage to look into our shadows, those parts of ourselves that we prefer to ignore or keep hidden, or those issues and relationships that call for our attention, but are painful, or scary to look at. Other times we are invited to venture further out, beyond the boundaries we’ve come to count on. Taking risks, embarking on new work, making important changes, practicing new ways of being in the world.

In case, like me, you didn’t know this, there is a difference between magnetic north and true north. A compass automatically points to magnetic north, which shifts over time, while true north does not change. In order to find true north a compass must be adjusted. Magnetic moments are an alert to adjust our inner compass. In the world of auto-correct, adjustments happen automatically on our devices, but not so in our own lives. Recognizing that magnetic pull, we adjust our inner compass to make sure it is aligned with who we are and what we care about. This adjustment doesn’t keep us safe…It keeps us true.

Magnetic moments are game changers, and the choice is always ours to step over that threshold.

Or not.

Either way the game changes.

This first day of the new year is a chance to adjust our inner compass, allowing it to help us make any necessary course corrections so as to step boldly towards true north. The life that is ours, and only ours, to live. This adjustment won’t keep us safe…it will keep us true.

First light of the first day of a new year.

Scheduling Hope

Hope is a condition of the heart in which we live with a sense of confident expectation and anticipation. Yet with all that is on most of our plates, it can be easy to lose touch with any air of expectancy, and live instead gasping for breath due to the pressure of all that is expected of us.

Queue the calendar.

When I am mindful to use it well, my calendar becomes an instrument of hope…

A monthly video call with two dear friends and colleagues, where together we’ve created a safe place in which to engage in courageous and vulnerable thinking.

Sessions with a trainer who is helping me move from rehab of an injury to the renewal of my strength and capacity to do the things that I love.

Coaching sessions with one of my clients who is decidedly all in on our work together, and shows up fully every time we meet.

Time set aside to help our daughter and her family get ready for their move to a new house, smack dab in the middle of the holidays.

FaceTime dates with those I love.

Family coming over the river and through the woods for Christmas.

A massage, a much needed haircut, and a pedicure.

Friends for dinner, and a New Year’s Eve party.

Seattle Seahawks games that could land us in the playoffs.

A candlelight service on Christmas Eve.

As Annie Dillard says, How we spend our days, is, of course, how we spend our lives. By making sure to include in my days that which makes me come alive, I am choosing to live in a state of hopeful anticipation.

A calendar as an instrument of hope?

Who knew?