From The Rooftops

Recently I wrote a review of More Human Than Otherwise: Living & Leading With Humility by my dear friend and most trusted colleague, David Berry.

David’s book is for anyone in leadership, considering leadership, or wondering about leadership. It is a book to give as a gift to someone you know who is seeking to be the kind of leader others would willingly follow. If you are looking for a meaningful graduation present for someone about to step onto the leadership trail, look no further. While you are at it, get a copy for yourself and dive in. After all, you are more human than otherwise too.

After posting the review on Goodreads I noticed a tiny box that could be checked to post my review on a blog, and checked it immediately. Why didn’t I think of that, I wondered, as it’s kind of a no brainer to share good news with as many people as we can, whenever and wherever we find it. In fact, given the state of the world, we should be shouting any and all good news from our rooftops to the world within our reach.

Well, this is me, shouting from my small but mighty rooftop.

David Berry asks us to consider what it takes to become a leader others would willingly follow. It is at once a question and an invitation. It is the question anyone desiring to lead well must not only continually answer but live into every day. Beyond that, it is an invitation to transformation, which is the journey of any leader worth her salt. Because transformation is what happens when we are willing to learn from and be changed by our experiences. All of them, and perhaps most especially, the difficult, painful, and humbling experiences that help us gain more clarity on who we are and how we are showing up in the world as a human being leading other human beings.

One of the many things I appreciate about this book is how David created a safe space for the reader’s own courageous thinking. He does this by modeling a critical element at the heart of leadership. What it looks like to go first. To be the kind of leader that says, “It’s ok. I’ll go first. I’ll show you ‘mine’ (the good, the bad and the ugly) so that maybe you will be willing to show me ‘yours’. He does this by sharing his own experiences, what he learned, and what has changed in him as a result.

It quickly becomes clear that David takes seriously his call to help equip and support the next generation of leaders. Leaders who will be courageous enough to become evermore self-aware. In multiple ways this book reminds us that telling ourselves the truth about who we are is foundational to being a leader others would willingly follow. To do that we need the help of others. Cultivating the practice of seeking feedback on a regular basis, learning in community, and engaging a therapist are but a few of the ways suggested in these pages.

I highly recommend this book for anyone in leadership, aspiring to leadership, of wondering if leadership is for them. To that last point, leadership isn’t confined just to those with the title. To be more human than otherwise is to answer the call to love, help, and heal the world within our reach, which sounds a lot like leadership to me.

What A Difference A Day Makes

Yesterday was rough. It was one of those days where I went from grumpy to angry to sad to flat to worried to afraid to lonely to resentful to frustrated to annoyed to hopeless to melancholy to…

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I couldn’t put my finger on it. I couldn’t snap myself out of it. I simply had to live with it and let it pass. It was one of those days that I simply wanted to be over. End of story.

Thankfully, I am recognizing days like yesterday for what they are. A transition day of sorts, and as we all know, transitions can be tough as we move from one state or condition to another.

Transition days usually come on the heels of something big. A big event. An emotional upheaval. A long anticipated adventure coming to an end.

Transition days are when I need to practice not acting on what I think or feel.

Transition days are when I need to practice not taking things out on those around me.

Transition days are when I need to not take myself or my dark thoughts too seriously.

Transition days are when I need to hold my heavy emotions lightly.

This morning I woke up on the right side of the bed. Whatever it was had slipped out during the night, and my heart was at peace.

What a difference a day makes.

On A Whim And An Audit

A lover of all things language, early in his college experience he declared himself a German major. Already fluent in Danish after living in Denmark for his senior year in high school, and with German under his linguistic belt, he was about to take his first class in Russian. Scanning his horizon, he imagined himself on his way to a life in academia.

But then something unexpected happened.

On a whim, he signed up to audit a geology class.

He’d loved collecting rocks as a boy, and thought, “Heck. Why not? It might be fun.”

And it was.

Before the semester was even over, thanks to a quietly charismatic professor who obviously loved what he was doing, this college sophomore knew what he wanted to do with his life. He would become a geologist.

His professional career spanned 38 years, leading him to become a world renowned expert in his field. As a research scientist, his work often dropkicked him out of the office and into the natural world. He engaged in field work close to home and around the globe, finding himself in circumstances that the world of academia might have had a hard time matching. Stranded on the top of an 18,000’ Andean volcano in fog so thick that the helicopter couldn’t find them, he and his colleagues had to find their way back down on foot. In the Philippines he made his way through shoulder-high grass, home to three different species of cobras, and oh-so-many other poisonous things, and lived to tell about it. Work in anti-American rebel territory in Columbia was done under the protection of a security force armed with automatic weapons. He rafted the Grand Canyon, attended a banquet as the guest of the Sultan of Central Java, spoke at the UN in Geneva, and was momentarily mistaken for the Crown Prince of Japan.

Regardless of where we find ourselves in life, it’s easy to get stuck thinking that in order to find success we have to follow the rules, check off the right boxes, and make carefully calculated decisions. We have to stay the course and follow the route we’ve mapped out for ourselves.

But maybe not.

At least not always.

This geologist would say his professional life was more than he ever could have imagined. And it happened on a whim and an audit. Because of what seemed at the time, an inconsequential decision. It wasn’t a strategic choice, or the next step in a plan hammered out with his academic advisor. It wouldn’t add to his GPA or satisfy a course requirement. He simply thought, “Heck. Why not? It might be fun.”

And it was.

Dr. Thomas C. Pierson a.k.a. the geologist I sleep with

A Second Language

The longer we wait to learn a new language, the harder it is to learn. It’s possible. Just harder.

As a girl who tends to make her mind up quickly, have an opinion on how things should be done, and who is pretty sure she is right most of the time, especially when she’s wrong, I have mastered the language I’m calling Certainty. It flows off my tongue like water. To say that I’m fluent in it is an understatement, as anyone who knows and loves me anyway can attest.

However, when it comes to the language I’m calling Curiosity, I am anything but fluent. But I want to be. To that end, I am practicing a few simple phrases as often as I can, knowing that repetition and practice are the keys to mastery.

I could be wrong about that.

You could be right about that.

Those two statements still catch in my throat, and most likely catch those who hear them off guard, but the more I say them, the more easily they come. Every day provides me with ample opportunity to practice, and for that I am grateful (mostly). I’ve spent years mastering the language of Certainty, and it is my hope that with practice, I will be able to claim Curiosity as a second language in which I am fluent.

What language would you like to learn?

Dirty Baby

As soon as he was out of the car he made a beeline first for the driveway to play with the gravel, and then for the front yard to scoop up handfuls of dirt from the latest gopher mounds. In short order, our grandson Cai’s hands were dirty, and his onesie covered in dust.

He was…. a happy camper.

A free range kid.

He wasn’t concerned about keeping things neat and tidy, or how he would look with a little dirt on his face. Nope. Not one bit. Cai was captivated by his surroundings and curious to explore the world within reach of his grubby little hands.

When did we forget how good it is to get a little, or a lot, dirty now and then? To forget what people might think, and allow ourselves to be captivated by the world around us and curious to explore the world within reach of our probably too clean hands?

As wee Can knows, life is too short to worry about clean fingernails.

Word Play

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.

Betwixt And Between

Father Richard Rohr defines a liminal space as the place that is betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown.

That definition rings true, and sounds familiar, as this is the space where I find myself more often than not. That place between what I’ve known in the past, and that has perhaps served me well, but with a few more steps along my journey encountering new experiences, new information, new people, and new perspectives, I can no longer count on what I’ve known to guide my steps. This is, I think, how we are meant to travel in the world—letting go of certainty and grabbing ahold of curiosity instead. 

It is usually when I am sure that I know for sure, that I find out that I usually don’t. So much for certainty. 

Liminal places aren’t found periodically along our journey. They are the journey. 

Three Questions

As a new week begins, I want to share three questions I heard this morning in church.

The message was given by Mateo, a high school student, on the topic of climate change. An issue so complex, so overwhelming, and so fraught with powerful emotions from those on all sides, that it can be tempting to find ourselves stuck in an endless cycle of hand wringing. Which, as far as I know, has yet to solve a problem. This young man, however, suggested that there might be a more effective approach to this global issue, that as stewards of the planet, impacts us all. In a quiet voice, confident in his message, he encouraged us to cut climate change down to size by thinking locally. As he shared his own story of coming to grips with the challenges facing our shared planet, he suggested that it might help each of us to ask ourselves the same three simple questions that he asked himself when attempting to wrap his young arms around this global bone of contention.

1. How is climate change affecting me?

2. How is it affecting others?

3. What are we going to do about it?

Simple questions with no easy answers, but in contemplating a worldwide situation in his own neck of the woods, he found it easier to see opportunities to make a difference. And suggested that we might too.

Imagine if each one of us decided to be curious. To honestly assess the impact our changing climate is having right in our own back yard, to consider how it is impacting those in our community, to search for ways to address our common concerns, and then get to work.

Mateo’s words rang true not only in relation to our rising temperatures, but as a template to approach any problem that feels too complex to tackle. From global issues to those within the walls of our own workplaces, schools, and homes, a good place to start is with the same three questions.

1. How is this fill-in-the-blank issue affecting me?

2. How is it affecting others?

3. What are we going to do about it?

Rancho La Puerta - Photo by Tom Pierson

It's You Again

Things reappear in our lives for a reason, and if we are paying attention we’ll recognize them because of their familiarity. Our awareness that whatever “it” is has shown up again, has a sense of déjà vu to it. A feeling that we’ve been here before, and hoped that we wouldn’t have to be here again. But here again we are.

What to do with what has once again arrived at our doorstep? Will we turn out the lights, hide behind the door, and pretend no one is at home? Or, will we crack the door open, invite it in to sit awhile, and listen to what it has to say? One choice leads us away from, and the other deeper into, the authentic and wholehearted life that is ours to live.

When the detritus of my life shows up once more, my first response usually includes some form of profanity, and then discouragement that I have to deal with whatever it is. Again.

Apparently there is more to discover, or it wouldn’t be here again.

There’s some unfinished business to attend to, or it wouldn’t be here again.

There’s an issue to be resolved, or it wouldn’t be here again.

More healing of a still open wound, more truth to be told, more forgiveness to be sought or extended, more stripping away of my ego, or more fears to face. Whether it is any or all of the above, there’s more work to do, or it wouldn’t be here again.

Swearing at it and wishing it would go away doesn’t seem like a skillful way to proceed. Looking it squarely in the eye and greeting it does.

Oh. It’s you again. Come on in and let’s talk. I’m all ears.

We all have some form of “it”, and what goes around will keep coming around until it has had its way with us. The next time it shows up, let’s look it squarely in the eye, and greet it.

Oh. It’s you again. Come on in and let’s talk. I’m all ears.

With gratitude once again for my spiritual director, Dane Anthony, who continues to gently invite me to practice welcoming that which shows up at my door.

What Goes Around

We all have old stories and toxic messages that keep circling around, appearing on our landscapes yet again. When they do, we have the choice of grabbing hold or taking a step back. In grasping a familiar message, we deepen our connection to the past, and continue to carry it with us into the future. In stepping back, we have the opportunity to evaluate its relevance in the present, and decide whether it is worth the weight it adds to our load. Each time our stuff takes another lap around our block,  we have the choice is to latch on or let go.