The Garage Day 2

When it comes to cleaning, clearing, and organizing a garage, like many things in life, it’s different strokes for different folks. I’m a tosser, he’s a saver, and with those two facts in play, as you can imagine, this project could stir up a little emotional stuff for the two of us. However, if we’ve learned anything in our 25 years together, it is that while we couldn’t be much more different, our commitment to one another is the same. So this morning, before setting one foot in the garage, we sat down with our coffee, and along with my sister and her husband who are here to help, had a conversation about what we wanted to be true at the end of this daunting project. Yes, by the end of the week we want to have made major progress. Yes, by the end of the week we want to have hauled away as many truck loads as possible. Yes, by the end of the week we want to have created a much more organized and clean space in which to start using the garage for the purpose it was originally built. And, yes, and most importantly, by the end of the week the four of us want to have all laughed together, had fun together, and be even more grateful for one another.

When it comes to cleaning, clearing, and organizing a garage, like many things in life, the project isn’t the real project. What matters in the end is how we conducted ourselves in the midst of the project. What matters in the end is how we related to one another in the midst of the project. What matters in the end is whether or not we are better people, both individually and collectively, because of the project. That can only happen when we realize that the project isn’t the real project. It is just a vehicle to become even more of the authentic and wholehearted people we are called to be.

Stay tuned.

Connection

Recently we were given the book reconnect by Steve D. Call, PhD, and I highly recommend it. While there are many points I could highlight here, I will share just one in the hopes that it will pique your interest to learn more. If it does, grab a copy for yourself.

Very , very simply put, relationships are in one of the following states:

connection

disconnection

reconnection

Think about it. Everything is going along swimmingly, and then bam, because of a comment, conflict, misunderstanding, or we just get out of sorts because we’re tired, hungry, or stressed, we suddenly move from connection to disconnection. At that point, the invitation is always to move towards reconnection. In my experience, this happens on both the micro and macro level, and if we accept the invitation to move towards reconnection on the smaller, daily stage, it can go a long way towards avoiding finding ourselves on the big long term stage.

My husband and I are finding it good food for thought to go with our morning coffee. Maybe you will too.

This Is Us

When we are in relationship with others, our differences are more evident than our similarities. No place is this more apparent than in marriage. Tom and I have been married for almost 25 years, and our many differences are as evident today as they were when we were starry-eyed in love on the day of our wedding.

I’m prickly. He’s buttoned up.

I’m multi-layered and a tad complicated. He has a deep, gentle core and is more straight forward.

I experience and express all of my feelings ad nauseam. He’s darn good at avoiding any emotions that rock his internal Hakuna Matata, much less putting words to them.

I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl. He’s a planner.

I can go for days without a shower. He can’t.

I state my needs and preferences quickly, and perhaps a little too easily. He poses a question as a backdoor way of stating his desires without having to take ownership for them.

I care about form first, function second. He starts with function and hopes for form.

I move fast. He’s methodical.

I can commander any conversation. He tends to take a back seat.

I know I’ll find a parking space close in. He’s pretty sure he won’t.

I’m messy. He’s, ummm, not.

A good example of how this plays out happened the other morning. We were staying at Los Poblanos, a drop-dead fabulous historic inn in Albuquerque, NM. Sitting in bed with our cups of French Press coffee, it went something like this.

Act 1

Him: Do you want to explore the grounds after our coffee?

Me: Yes! And then go to breakfast. (Rated the best breakfast in all of New Mexico.)

Him: But shower first, right?

Me: (Big sigh) Can’t we just be spontaneous?

Him: (Jaw muscles clench) A shower just wakes me up.

Me: And you don’t think a brisk walk in 31 degree air will do that?

Him: (More jaw clenching)

Me: (Bigger sigh) Fine. We can come back, you shower, and I’ll keep walking or read or something.

We finish our coffee in strained silence and head out for a walk.

Act 2

It was a glorious morning, and as we wandered the trails discovering secret gardens, meditation spaces, the resident llamas, took in the attention to detail in the design of the buildings and grounds, and breathed the fresh morning air, the sun on our faces warmed up our hearts. Pretty soon we were laughing, holding hands, and giving thanks for the unbelievable blessing of even being able to grant ourselves this kind of experience.

Me: Who gets to do this??

Him: Today, I guess we do.

Me: It feels so good to be out here together.

Him: (Deep laugh) I think I want breakfast.

Me: Now? Before your shower?

Him: Yep. It’s amazing how rigid I think I have to be in my mind. Thank you for challenging me to do it differently.

We finish our walk and head off to breakfast in happy silence.

Act 3

We head into Campo for breakfast. Our server comes by our table with coffee, and I jump straight into an energetic conversation with her.

Me: We had the most amazing dinner last night.

Her: I’m so happy to hear that.

Me: We both think it was one of the best, if not the best meal we’ve ever had anywhere.

Her: Wow! My partner is the Sous Chef. I’ll be sure and tell him. What did you order?

Me: I had the Rib-Eye. OMG, it was beyond delicious. We also had the Sashimi, the grilled asparagus, and Tom had the Pork Chop.

We order our breakfast.

Act 4

We sip our coffee in easy silence for a few minutes.

Him: (In a quiet, gentle voice) I’d like to offer an observation. You jumped into that conversation, took off running, and didn’t give me a chance to answer for myself or give my opinion.

Me: (Taking a moment) You are so right. I don’t even see myself doing it.

Him: Just like when I ask you what you want as a way avoiding taking ownership for my own needs.

Me: Yes!

Him: You are really helping me with that.

Me: Like you just helped me.

Here is the truth—we are different in so many ways, and while we sometimes drive each other crazy, we’ve also come to count on the gifts that come wrapped in our differences. When all is said and done…this is us.

The Conversation

I am convinced that we have access to an innate inner wisdom that stands at the ready to assist us.

This past week I saw this inherent sense in action in the participants in the workshop I had the privilege of leading. Focused on the opportunities that await each of us to engage in important, meaningful, and necessary conversations, when asked if they could identify such an opportunity waiting for them, an interaction where the stakes were high and the emotions probably were too, there wasn’t one shake of the head in the room. It was all nods. To a person, everyone knew of at least one conversation waiting for them, and to a person, everyone knew that they were the one to start it.

We know the conversations waiting for us, even if, and perhaps most especially if, we are reluctant to have them. Call them courageous conversations, crucial conversations, inconvenient conversations, or fill-in-the-blank conversations, we know what they are, and why they are. We just don’t want to have them. We don’t want to have to muster the courage in the midst of our vulnerability. We don’t want to start something without knowing how it will turn out. We don’t want to enter the arena knowing we might need to be stitched back together. We don’t want to give voice to something fragile and important that might go unheard. We don’t want to show up and be the only one at the party. And yet, in spite of all of that, the conversation is still waiting for us.

It continues to be my experience that the more I am willing to engage in the conversations that matter, regardless of how scary, challenging, or difficult they may be, the deeper my connections grow. To others, to my convictions, and, to myself. .

Is there a conversation waiting for you?

Listening

I interrupted him three times, sure that I wasn’t interested in hearing his suggestion. With only half of his thought out, I’d already determined what he was going to say, and proceeded to shut down the conversation. What a great way to facilitate communication and deepen connection with the man I love and share my life with. Finally he stopped walking, and standing in our snow covered driveway, suggested that I wasn’t listening to him. Huh. Now there’s a thought. Keeping my mouth shut long enough for him to actually finish his sentence, it became quickly obvious that he was right. I hadn’t been listening, and if I had, would have discovered that his thought was a good one, and we were on exactly the same page.

Note to self.

Let people finish what they are saying.

TMI

Last week I met with my doctor to go over the results of an MRI, ordered to try and determine the cause behind a greater hearing loss in my left ear. The concern when there is a difference in hearing levels between the two ears, which are meant to work in tandem, is the presence of an Acoustic Neuroma, a non-cancerous tumor, that while slow growing, over time can cause serious problems. My doctor was quite certain that I didn’t have one, but offered me the choice to have the scan or not. Wanting the peace of mind that comes from having the necessary information, I opted for the test.

In the exam room, after a warm handshake and a little conversation about our shared love of winter sports, he got right down to it. The images confirmed his suspicion. There was no growth, and in fact nothing of concern, all of which could have been communicated via email or phone. However, apparently there were additional results from the test that someone somewhere in the medical stratosphere deemed necessary to include on the report, and without an explanation, might have sounded serious and scary.

In other words, the report suffered from TMI.

His explanation put my mind at ease, which is what we both wanted out of the MRI in the first place, and while the other results were mildly interesting, it was information that I didn’t really need, but because it was included on the report I got it anyway.

How often do we share information just because we can? Provide too many unnecessary details? Go to great lengths to explain something, instead of getting straight to the point? Use a conversation to demonstrate our knowledge rather than to deepen a connection? Disclose details that aren’t ours to share?

Information may be power, but too much of it can be hard on our hearing.

Only Say It ONCE

Lately it seems my best teachers are small humans younger than three years of age, four-legged pups, and expert dog trainers.  

As we work to help Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle become her best and happiest doggie self, we are leaning on the wisdom of one Matt Luchinger, owner and trainer extraordinaire of NWB Dogs (North West Balanced Dog Training). He has a basic principle that not only applies to dogs, but could help us become our best and happiest human selves too...

Only say it ONCE.

When working with Gracie, and teaching her to respond to our commands, Matt is very clear on ONE point. Only say the command ONE time. For example, if asking her to “Sit”, we are to say the command word once, and then wait for her to respond by, well, sitting. There are several steps leading up to helping her recognize the word, and what is expected of her, but once it is clear that she understands what we are asking of her (which she does), when we repeat the word multiple times, we are training her that we don’t really mean what we say. That she can take her own sweet time and sit when she is good and ready. Not what we are after. Allowing her to ignore our request is setting her up for behaviorial issues, and potential risk of harm down the road. If that happens, Gracie is not the one responsible. That outcome lies squarely at our feet. We are the ones who have trained her not to take us seriously by giving her a mixed message, and if we could read her little doggie thought bubble, it would probably say, “Do they really mean it or not?” 

The same can be said in our human interactions and relationships. When we develop the skills to say what we mean, and demonstrate that we mean what we say, everyone will be better served. When we have to repeat ourselves multiple times in order for get people to take us seriously, it might not be on them. Maybe we’ve been giving them a mixed message, and if we could read their little thought bubble, it would probably say “Do they really mean it, or not?”

Whose Side Of The Fence?

Whenever we are in a relationship, there are times when there is work that needs to be done, and that work falls into three categories: yours, mine, and ours. A healthier order would be mine, yours, and ours, because when looking at the health and dynamics of our relationships, it’s best to start within.

Good questions to ask ourselves might be:

How have I contributed to the current state of this marriage/partnership/family dynamic/professional relationship/friendship/whatevership?

What am I doing to build or undermine trust and respect?

What do I need to communicate to the other person?

Do I need to seek forgiveness?

Have I clearly stated my needs?

Do I need to seek professional help to find my way to a healthier me?

What is mine to do?

What is on my side of the fence?

Starting there is always a win/win deal. No matter what the outcome of our own work, when done with curiosity, humility, courage, and integrity, we come out the side more fully formed as the person we are meant to be.

All that being said, not everything falls on our side of the fence. It is up to others to show up too, and hopefully they will. Sometimes that means doing their own work, and other times it means that we swing our gates open wide and inhabit the field of relationship building together.

Sacred Texts

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.