The Step To Take

Start close in,
don’t take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step you don’t want to take.

David Whyte

(Excerpted from River Flow: New & Selected Poems )

Today in conversation with another coach, we were reflecting on next steps, and how to pursue what is calling us, right from where we are. In the midst of what is, how do we step closer to what could be? It is easy to get focused on the far horizon, and miss the fertile ground squarely beneath our feet. Wherever we want to go, where we are is the place to start.

Sharing a bit of silence, David Whyte’s poem, Start Close In came to mind, and I introduced the words quoted above to our conversation. Instantly a next step came to mind. One that was close in. A step that wasn’t the first choice, but the right choice.

Wherever we are, there is a next step. One that is close in, and while it may not be the one we want to take, it is the step that will lead us deeper into the life we are called to live.

What is the step you don’t want to take?

The one close in?

Take that one.

With gratitude to DC

Testing The Limits

No is a complete sentence.

Anne Lamott

It seems that we are wired to test the limits. To see how far we can go, discover our capabilities, and challenge ourselves. When pushing ourselves to master a new skill, learn a new language, summit a taller peak, or stay in a difficult conversation, stretching ourselves and pushing past previous boundaries is a necessary part of the growth process.

It also seems that we are wired to test the limits of boundaries not meant to be crossed. To do it our way and others be damned, pushing in where we haven’t been invited, offering unsolicited advice, or to see what we can get away with.

While It’s up to others to respect our boundaries, it is up to us to establish them.

To reflect more, check out an earlier post on boundaries:

Givers Of Life

Once a month I have a video call with two individuals who are not only respected colleagues, but also dear friends. It is a call that I look forward to from the moment we end our time together until the next one rolls around. The three of us have worked together in various ways over the years, and while we value and respect one another professionally, it is the personal connection that keeps us coming back for more. Together we’ve created a safe space for courageous thinking, a shelter from our storms, and a shared home for our hearts and hurts.

Every call has a way of infusing more life into my being.

Today was supposed to be our monthly call, and as much as I look forward to it, I almost bowed out of it. After a couple of emotionally packed weeks, I simply felt like I didn’t have the capacity to show up as anything but a worn out mess, and taking anything off of my calendar sounded like a good idea. When I mentioned this to my sister who is here visiting, like any good big sister, she had a word of advice. She reminded me of how life-giving this call always is, and thankfully, like any good little sister, I listened to her.

No matter how I show up at the beginning of the call, I am always better at the end of it, and today was no exception.

The moral of the story?

Make time for life-giving connections, and listen to your big sister.

The Sweet Sound

For almost everyone I know, this week has been more than a little challenging. As in, nothing, and I mean nothing, has gone according to plan.

In the midst of all of the apples from our upset carts, the challenge has been to find one more note of grace with which to encounter our circumstances and one another. Sometimes we did it well, other times not so much, but in the end, we’ve found our way together to the other side of this week that no one expected. From plummeting temperatures to icy roads, a sudden case of the flu to babies waking up too early, cancelled appointments and long anticipated plans delayed, grace has once again won the day.

Grace…how sweet the sound.

Redemption

Redemption is always possible. As long as we draw breath, there remains the opportunity to turn things around, even if only in our own hearts. To do things differently. To be who we want to be in the midst of our circumstances, no matter how fraught or difficult they may be. The ball is always in our court, regardless of what happens on the other side of the net.

Redemption doesn’t always happen the way we hope it will. The other person may not seize the chance to turn things around. They may continue in their same vein, and to chart their same course. The ball is always in their court too. But what they do with it isn’t up to us.

Redemption can still happen even if we are the only ones showing up, and bringing the best of ourselves to the worst of situations. Because when all is said and done, sometimes knowing that we’ve done all we can with what we’ve got to work with is as redemptive as it gets.

Redemption is always possible. Even if we are the only ones being redeemed.

The Doctor Is In

When we got Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle, little did we know that we were also getting our very own four-legged marriage counselor.

Tom and I have done a lot of work over the course of our 25 year marriage, and have a deep trust in and respect for one another, but somehow Dr. Gracie has a way of showing us that these two old dogs still need to learn some new relationship tricks.

We’ve adopted an approach to raising Gracie that will equip her to have the freedom we want her to enjoy here at home, and out in the big wide world on all of our shared adventures. Just when we think we are on the same page on what that approach means, we learn that we aren’t.

And then we have to talk about it.

Again.

After another conversation to clear the air and our understanding, we’re on a new page together, until we learn that we aren’t.

And then we have to talk about it.

Again.

Our little chocolate girl is helping us to dig a little deeper into our own fears and hurts that have been buried under long ago frozen ground, and bring them to the surface where we can lay them at one another’s feet as food for deeper conversation, leading to deeper understanding, leading to deeper connection.

We’ve got Dr. Gracie, but dog owners or not, we all have people and situations smack dab in the middle of our lives that have to potential to teach us new relationship tricks. While It will probably mean that we will have to dig deeper into our own fears and hurts, Gracie will tell you it’s totally worth it!

Tonglen

This morning in a rich and grace-filled conversation, I was reminded of a Buddhist spiritual practice that I’d learned about years ago, but have long since left behind. It is known as Tonglen, sometimes referred to as “taking and sending” or “bad in, good out”, and it is as simple as it sounds. For example, I might practice Tonglen for someone I know who is in pain or suffering a great loss, by bringing them to mind and taking in their pain and suffering with my in-breath, and with them still in mind, sending them relief when breathing out.

While simple it may be, it is anything but easy, as it means a willingness to take on the burdens of others by taking them into our very being, and as Pema Chodren explains in the link above, encountering the pain and suffering of others brings us face-to-face with our own. And who wants that, I ask you? But here’s the thing, in practicing it for others we can practice it for ourselves, as we inhale our own pain, and exhale relief back to our own hearts. With time, Tonglen helps us to connect our own pain with that of others, and to see that we are all in this rich and painful thing called life together. None are exempt, and as we sit in that connection we develop more capacity to extend compassion, love, and empathy, not only to others, but to ourselves.

In…pain.

Out…relief

In…suffering

Out…release

In…burden

Out…ease

In…imprisonment

Out…freedom

In…shame

Out…grace

In…fear

Out…courage

In…exhaustion

Out…rest

In…anxiety

Out…peace

In…judgement

Out…acceptance

In…hate

Out…love

In this same conversation I was also reminded that there are times when Tonglen will just be too much for us. Times when taking on any more is simply more than we can bear, and in those moments all we can do is simply breathe.

In…

Out…

In…

Out…

In…

Out…

Written with deep gratitude for my spiritual director, Dane Anthony, founder of SoulPrint

Holy Fires

For me to be a saint means to be myself (Thomas Merton)…We owe it to the God who created us, to ourselves, to the people we love, and to all with whom we share this troubled planet, to become “saints”. How else can we run and complete the errand upon which God sent us here?

The Road Back To You by Ian Morgan Cron & Suzanne Stabile

Sometimes someone speaks truth into our lives in a way that changes us. In a way that reminds us of who we are and why we are here.

Recently that happened to me.

Twice.

The first, when a new friend, one I met just last week at Rancho La Puerta, stopped me mid-sentence and said, “Molly, you are a holy fire.” It simultaneously gave me shivers and a lump in my throat then, and gives me the same now as I see her words in print. I knew what she said to be true, in that kind of quiet, deep knowing that happens in such moments.

The second, when my dearest friend of almost 45 years told me that in all of our times of working together, she’s never seen me as she is seeing me now. That I am “at the top of my game”. Again, I knew her words to be true, but at 65 years of age, the top of my game isn’t about building my brand, or establishing myself as a well-known expert, rather, it is about offering my work in service to others. Perhaps that is what being at the top of our game is meant to mean at any age.

I hesitate to even write about this, as it sounds high and mighty, and like I think I’m all that. Quite the opposite. Rather than high and mighty, I feel low, as in grounded on the earth, and small, as in a tiny reflection of what happens whenever we live our lives from the center of our being. Yes, I’ve honed my craft and refined my skills, but I can stake no claim to that holy blaze, other than that I’ve learned to stoke the fire that was laid for me from the beginning. And being at the top of my game? It doesn’t mean showing off…it means showing up.

We are each meant to be a holy fire, and called to be at the top of our game. Let’s remind one another of who we are, by speaking truth that will help us complete the errand upon which we’ve each been sent.

Written with deep gratitude

Transitions

Transitions of any kind can be rough. 

The first day of a vacation

The first day back from a vacation

Leaving one home and moving into another

The end of a time of meaningful work

Finding your way from diagnosis to treatment

Adjusting to a new leader

Potty training

After the honeymoon

Retiring from a lifelong career

The end of a relationship

Transitions are an in-between time. We are neither here nor there. We can’t go back, but we haven’t arrived at the next place. What has been is over, but what is to be hasn’t started yet.

I remember when my daughters were born, the most challenging time was during the transition phase. You can read about all the details if you are interested, but suffice it to say, it’s hard. You can’t start pushing, but that’s all you want to do. You decide you want to go home, but nobody will let you. The people around you are trying to encourage you, and it’s not working. These are the final moments of your pregnancy, but there’s still no baby. You’ve had it up to here, but apparently here has room for a little more.

A few things that can help a woman get through the transition:

Remember how far you’ve come.

Keep breathing.

Take it one contraction at a time.

Along with being the most challenging, this phase is also the shortest. This is a good thing to remember when  in the midst of any transition, big or small.

And…

Remember how far you’ve come.

Keep breathing.

Take it one contraction at a time.

There’s new life ahead.

Mission Accomplished

Everywhere I look people are going through hard things, and I am as well. These experiences are part of what it means to be human, and choosing to go through them rather than trying to go around them is how we find our way back home to ourselves. To our true self.

In the midst of a conversation the other day about such things, I suddenly recalled a scene from the movie Apollo 13. An explosion mid-flight had damaged the spacecraft which changed the mission from landing on the moon, to finding a way to bring astronauts Jim Lovell, Fred Haise, and Jack Swigert back home.

The heat shield on the Command Module had been damaged in the explosion, and it was not known whether it would be able to withstand the intense heat of reentry. There was no other way home but to ride it out, trusting that the heat shield would hold.

It did, and on April 17, 1970, at 1:07:41PM, the Command Module splashed into the Pacific Ocean, and they were home.

Mission accomplished.

It occurs to me that whenever we are engaged in the dangerous adventure of finding our way back home to ourselves, we too have to trust that there is a heat shield surrounding us. That we are protected by a love that wants us to be whole. A love that wants nothing in the world more than to bring us back home.

Mission accomplished.

https://airandspace.si.edu/collection-objects/command-module-apollo-13