Lessons From The Field

January 6, 2019 Molly Davis

Nobody thought they’d make it into the playoffs, but as they have been known to do, the Seattle Seahawks defied the odds and did. After a disappointing loss last night to the Dallas Cowboys, in which they mostly got in their own way, (although kudos to the Cowboys for doing what it took to come out victorious) it is time to reflect on the season, and what we can learn from this team that I love.

It isn’t other people’s opinion that matters.

The team started the year by losing all four of their pre-season games, the first two of the regular season, and entering week 10, found themselves with a 4-5 record. The football world pretty much wrote them off, casting this as a “re-building” year, not a year in which anything special could happen. Au contraire said those inside the locker room overlooking Lake Washington. That something special, as articulated by head coach Pete Carrol, one of the classiest in the NFL, is “Without question, it’s this connection our guys have. Their willingness to keep going the extra step, the extra mile, whatever it takes to keep adding.” They always believe that something good is about to happen, regardless of the odds, minutes left on the clock, or the media chatter, and more times than not, something good does, even if it doesn’t show up on the scoreboard.

There’s a difference between winning and being victorious.

In his post game press conference, WR Doug Baldwin admitted to being frustrated, sad, and disappointed. Who wouldn’t be? However, his message as one of the leaders in the locker room is that if the players, individually and collectively, can learn from this disappointing end to the season and use that to get better, closer, and more committed, while they might not be victorious, they still won in the bigger picture. “The challenges are hard, and it’s difficult, but you should never be afraid of failure. Failure is what helps you grow. If you’re not growing, you’re staying stagnant. If you’re staying stagnant, you’re done.”

While it’s about football, it’s not about football.

No doubt about it, life in the NFL has a relatively short shelf life. Career ending injuries, the end of a contract, or getting cut from the team, if it’s only about what happens on the field, that’s not a great return on the investment these players have to make to be able to play in a game open only to an elite few. If they don’t come out the other side of their career as better men, as better human beings, they’ve left way too much on the field. Again, WR Doug Baldwin - “I think the best thing we will do from this point on moving forward is that we will take these lessons and learn from them and grow and be better, not only as football players, but as men. That is vastly more important.”

Build on the past and move forward.

That about sums it up in a nutshell. On or off the football field, the past serves as the foundation for what will happen next. The past is out of their hands, leaving them free to grab hold of the future, believing that something good is about to happen. That sounds like a good way to live.

Onward and upward.

Go Hawks!

Sisters

December 28, 2018 Molly Davis

There’s just something about a sister.

My one and only sister Margie turns 73 today, and it’s safe to say that I can’t imagine walking the planet without her. She’s been in my corner from day one. Literally. When I was born prematurely, and it was uncertain that I would survive, she got on her little 8 year-old knees and prayed that I would stick around, and she’s stuck with me ever since.

We couldn’t be more different - her style is fancy, mine is simple; I tend to swear, she tries not to; I love to push myself when I exercise, she has to push herself to exercise in the first place; she’s a republican, ummmm...I’m not.

Different though we may be, we couldn’t be closer, more committed or connected, and her influence has profoundly shaped my life in so many ways.

Because of her, my faith is central to who I am and what I stand for.

Because of her, I’ve learned to make friends with the truth, no matter how inconvenient.

Because of her, I understand the importance of creating margins in my life.

Because of her, I am (slowly) learning to laugh at myself and my many foibles.

Because of her, I set the table the day before the party.

Because of her, my daughters have a place other than me to go to for wisdom and insight.

Because of her, I know what it is to have a safe place to tell the truth.

Because of her, I know that laughter is some of the best good medicine.

And, because of her, I know what it is like to have someone walk by my side, come what may.

Happy Birthday M.

Our world and my heart are better because of you.

Hanging The Antlers

December 22, 2018 Molly Davis

Today is the fourth Sunday in Advent, ushering in the theme of Love, which, as it turns out, can show up in the most unlikely places.

Last summer my brother Peter gave me a fabulous set of elk antlers from one of his annual hunting trips to Montana. I’ve wanted a set for the cabin for years, and now that I had them, I knew exactly where I wanted to hang them. There was no other place for them to go but up above our fireplace, over the mantle in the middle of the rock covered chimney. It was a placement that would make Ralph Lauren and Joanna Gaines swoon.

I asked Tom if he would be able to hang them there, and he said that he thought he could.

Perfect.

I began to imagine those long desired antlers in their new home, with a fire blazing and candles glowing on the mantle.

A couple of months passed and the antlers hung out in our laundry room. I knew my husband had a lot on his plate, so wasn’t worried that they wouldn’t eventually find their way onto the rock. It never occurred to me that Tom might have a different opinion. Until one Sunday morning over coffee when I asked him if he thought he could get them up that day. After a long pause, he finally told me he didn’t like the spot I had chosen, and he didn’t want to hang them there. What? He’d never shared that with me in all the conversations we’d had about the antlers. I was frustrated and mad, especially since I’d spent so much time imagining them up there, and I wasn’t going to give up the fight easily. Neither however, was he. He suggested some of the areas he’d thought of, none of which (of course) were acceptable to me. We were at loggerheads, and the antlers were still in the laundry room.

Somewhere along the way I remembered a therapist we’d worked with, and here’s what she would have had to say. I don’t care about the antlers or where you hang them. Hang them anywhere you want. Upside down in the bathroom, over your bed, on the rock fireplace, or inside your closet. What I do care about, is once those antlers are up, are you two better as a couple or not? Do you understand and respect one another more, or not. Are you closer and more intimately connected, or not?

It’s not about the antlers.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, our relationship was more important than those silly antlers. Once we each let go of having to have it our way, we found an even better (of course) spot for the antlers. Tom hung them today, and I love them right where they are. We both do.

When it comes to love, it’s not about the antlers.

Sacred Texts

November 8, 2018 Molly Davis

There’s a lot of talk about how much technology is getting in the way of real human-to-human connection, and In some cases, I couldn’t agree more. Text instead of talk, email instead of engage, emojis instead of actual emotions.

Technology greases the skids to taking the easy way out, and can be a way to hide behind the screen and avoid having the real conversation. You know the one. The one that’s asking you to have it. My own personal rule when considering sending a text or email to communicate something important, controversial, risky, or vulnerable is the following: Am I willing to look the person in the eye, or pick up the phone, and say exactly what I am about to say in this email or text? If the answer is “No.”, then I shouldn’t push that tempting little ‘send’ button. It doesn’t mean that it isn’t a conversation worth having. It probably means it’s important enough to actually have it.

All that being said, technology can foster human connection in ways never before possible. In my world there are text streams that go on between all manner of family members and friends, and that have in fact become sacred, safe spaces to share the real stuff of life. Sometimes hilarious and at other times raw and real, with the push of a button physical distance evaporates, human connection materializing in its place.

There are times when all we have the time or emotional capital for is a text, and that little ding signaling the arrival of a new message becomes a lifeline that says someone out there cares.

Some sacred texts are written on ancient scrolls.

Others with new fangled technology.

CONFLICT - Extra! Extra! Read All About It!

October 7, 2018 Molly Davis

“In conflict, be fair and generous.”

~Lao Tzu

Early in our marriage we were heading out for a family road trip. It always takes more than you think to get out of town, but the suburban was finally packed, the kids were in the car, and I was itching to get on the road. Just as we reached the top of our driveway, Tom noticed that we hadn’t brought in the daily newspaper and wanted to stop and get it. I wanted him to keep driving and forget it. The situation quickly devolved into a stand-off, with us arguing in the front seat. It was a great start to our vacation.

Finally, I got out and picked up the paper and headed back to the car. Looking at Tom through the window, I noticed that he had a satisfied smile on his face, like he thought he’d won. So I did an about face and hucked the paper for all I was worth into the hedge. I guess I showed him.

It was a quiet car ride for awhile, which gave me time to notice that his ears could actually turn red. We continued to stick to our own guns for the better part of the day, and as I remember, it was one of our first real fights.

Over a newspaper.

Of course that wasn’t really what it was about. Conflicts are rarely about “the thing, but about something deeper. Whether it’s a desire to be heard, understood, respected, seen, protected, acknowledged, or needing even a tiny sense of control, conflict boils down to more than winning or losing. Or at least it could.

Fast forward 10 years after the driveway showdown. My sister and I were at the Oregon Coast with our daughters for our annual beach trip. The six girls ranged in age from 18-23, and this particular morning we were gathered around a table at Sleepy Monk (best coffee on the planet). A middle aged couple standing in line next to our table engaged us in conversation. As it turned out, he was a marriage and family therapist, and as we all chatted he learned that one of my nieces was engaged to be married that spring. This launched us all into a conversation about relationships and marriage. Because we were talking about relationships and marriage, the topic of conflict came up. Go figure. At any rate, he got very quiet, then he looked around the table and asked Girls, do you know what the purpose of conflict is? I can’t remember what they said, but I’ve never forgotten his answer

The purpose of conflict is connection.

If you are still reading this, I want you to find pen and paper and write those words down. Right now. Really.

The purpose of conflict is connection.

Now look at those words. Think about them. It isn’t a stretch to say that we’ve all of had an experience of conflict that produced anything but connection, and most of us don’t wake up in the morning and say, Gee. I hope I have a conflict today. Most of us don’t go looking for one. Most of us would prefer not to have one. Some of us will do almost anything to avoid one.

If you are still with me, I want you to pick up the pen again, this time in your non-dominant hand. The one you don’t write with, and write those same words down. Right now. Really.

The purpose of conflict is connection.

If you’re still with me, my guess is that it took you longer to write it that time. It might be kind of messy. Hard to read. Look kind of like when you first learned to write as a kid. It was probably very uncomfortable, awkward, and even a little painful. All of which sounds a whole lot like how conflict feels.

If you’re still with me, I know that you will always prefer to write with your dominant hand, but imagine if you were to write those same words, with your non-writing hand, ten times a day, every day for a month. You’d get better at it, and it would become a skill that would serve you when you needed it.

All of this to say, that the only way to get better at conflict is to practice it.

Now I’m not saying go out and rustle up some conflict so that you can practice. But, the next time something comes up, and it will, where you could step into the messy, uncomfortable, awkward, and maybe painful conversation, go ahead and dip your toe into the conflict waters. And do it with the intention, not of winning, or being right, or getting it over with, but with the intention of creating a little more connection. Take the high road and listen deeply. Take the conversation seriously and yourself lightly. Seek to understand and then to be understood. Listen with the kind of genuine attention that you would like to be given. Speak as you would like to be spoken to. Remember to breathe. Be willing to hold on to your convictions and let go of your assumptions. Be authentic, vulnerable, brave and curious.

Conflict happens, and when it does, if we call on the very best of ourselves, connection happens too.

Hucking a newspaper into a hedge doesn’t really help. Although it’s really fun to see if you can make your husbands ears turn red.

Silent Witness

September 30, 2018 Molly Davis

"Pooh!" he whispered.

"Yes, Piglet?"

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

~ Winnie the Pooh