The Invitation

You do not need to know

precisely what is happening,

or exactly where it is all going.

What you need is to recognize the possibilities

and the challenges offered by the present moment,

and to embrace them with

courage, faith, and hope.

Thomas Merton

There is, it seems, always an open invitation from life, even in the midst of bittersweet endings and uncharted beginnings. The invitation isn’t to somewhere else, but to be fully where we are, for it is from here that we must ground ourselves to take the next right step. And the next, and the next, and the next.

Endings of any sort mean the letting go of what has been and the leaving behind of what we’ve known, which, if we let it, will lead to the melding of gratitude and grief into the precious metal of grace. The deeper the gratitude and the more profound the grief, the longer we may need to linger at the threshold between what has been and what will be. These are the days of intentional packing, intentional goodbyes, and intentional moving on. There will be days when we can only pause and rest, and others when we must forge ahead regardless of how weary we feel.

Whether the selling of the longtime home in which we’ve raised a family, the retirement from a meaningful career, the fading of a vision that cannot be brought to life, the loss of a breast, or the ending of a relationship that cannot live up to the commitments made, the invitation is to stay fully engaged in life. Right here. Right now. Trusting that the ground beneath our feet will hold, as it has, as it is, and as it will.

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Home Ownership

There is a big difference between a house and a home. A house is a structure. A framework within which we live, and what can be seen on the exterior says little about what goes on in the interior. From the outside, a house doesn’t give away much about what happens inside the home, and like many things, it’s what’s on the inside that counts. Having sold a house a time or two (five to be more precise), I know that location matters. Some neighborhoods are more desirable than others depending on our preferences, and most of us tend to buy into the best area that we can afford. When putting a house on the market, in order to distinguish ours from others that are similar, sellers are encouraged to create street appeal for potential buyers, and to stage the inside so that they can see themselves living within its walls. But location, street appeal and staging do not a home make.

Or a life for that matter.

When I set out to write a book a few years ago, I did it because it was the next right thing to do. I was compelled to write BLUSH: Women & Wine not to become rich and famous, but to discover why I had come to depend upon wine as a coping mechanism to soften the blows of my own life, and to invite my readers to embark on their own exploration with me. Yet the temptation was there, and sometimes still is, to make the book and my work look good out in the world, rather than using the book and my work to do good out in the world. I am often more easily enticed to sign up for another course to learn how to create a more successful platform instead of standing on the platform that I have and telling the story to those ready to hear it.

It can be easy to get caught up striving to situate ourselves in the right place, be seen with the right people, and surrounded by the right stuff. We develop an image that will appeal to those we seek to impress, and stage our lives to appear accomplished and successful. There is nothing wrong with working to cast ourselves and what we have to offer in the best light, but that is exterior window dressing to the real work of shining a light inside the walls of our life. The work of coming to know ourselves and our vocation, of cultivating our gifts and honing our craft. For only when we do that will we find ourselves at home in our own life, and it is only from there that we are able to step out into the world and offer what is uniquely ours to give.

When it comes to real estate it might be about location, location, location, but when it comes to real life, it is about vocation, vocation, vocation.

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Feedback Anyone?

How often do you wake up in the morning and hope someone asks Do you mind if I give you some feedback? For most of us, those words rarely lead us to think that someone has something awesome to share with us. We generally prepare ourselves to hear something that shines a light on our shortcomings, failures, or mis-steps, and the truth is, sometimes, ok, many times, it does highlight something that we didn’t see ourselves, but wish we had.

This morning, after reading my latest blog post (Sunday School) which talked about the biblical story of creation and what it might tell us about ourselves, my husband Tom asked if he could share his perspective with me.

Umm. Sure.

“If someone didn’t know your theology, they might think that you believe that the world was literally created in six days. They might not understand that you were saying that the story is meant to point us to a much deeper truth.” My first response was that he hadn’t read it carefully enough, and then I remembered who it was that was offering me the gift of his feedback. As a scientist and a writer himself, he is a careful reader, and, he is also one of my most trusted voices. When he speaks, I (generally) try and listen, so took a deep breath and asked him to tell me more.

In my mind I had specifically written that piece to point to a deeper truth, not as theological commentary on anyone’s understanding of a powerful story of creation. I wrote it to encourage each of us to take seriously the unique errand upon we have been sent. To remind us that when we do the work we are called to do, and share the gifts that are ours to share, we can look upon all that we have done, and see that it is good. Just as the Creator does in the story. That was my point. Tom’s point was that readers might get wrapped up in a theological debate and miss the point altogether. It would have only taken a little more effort on my part to provide some context for my readers. To set the table a bit better before inviting them to partake of the offering.

It’s never fun to feel like we’ve missed the mark, and yet missing it is the only way we can improve our marksmanship. Whether as a writer, speaker, teacher, or coach, the only way I can get better is through honest feedback from trusted sources. The same holds true for all of us. In order to become more of who we are meant to be, to live into our fullness, and yes, to reflect the image of the creative power behind everything, we need to hear from others what they see in us that we cannot see in ourselves. Feedback is always a gift, not because it is always accurate or right or deserved, but because it provides a perspective other than our own, and helps us better understand how we are showing up in the world.

Whether that world took 6 days to create, or 4.6 billion years.

Photo: Pixabay

Photo: Pixabay

Sunday School

God saw everything that God had made, and indeed, it was very good.

Genesis 1:31 

In the biblical story, the world was created a day at a time, each day bringing more and more of the world into being. At the end of the day, the great Creator looked out over that which had been made and saw that it was good.

On the sixth day, in which all living creatures that dwell on the earth were brought forth, God went one step further and created humankind in God’s own image, giving to us stewardship of all that had been created. At the end of that day, the great Creator didn’t simply call what had been made good…but very good.

On the seventh day, there was no more to do. The Creator’s work was finished and that day was declared a day of rest. A holy day of rest.

Made in the image of the Creator, when we choose to live as a reflection of that from which we came, to be good stewards of all that has been entrusted to us, at the end of the day we  will be able to look out over what we have done, and see that it is good.

Every now and then, we can even see that is very good.

And when we’ve given all we have to that which is ours to do, we can take time to rest, knowing that to rest is  holy.

Amen.

Let it be so.

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Earth School

Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. 

Albert Einstein 

Today on a hike through a lush and fertile forest on the coast of Washington, I remembered a few things best not forgotten.

Everything and everyone are connected.

While we often live as if we are separate from one another, in the end, whether we flourish or perish, we will do so together. 

Life springs from death. 

When we are gone, what we have left behind will be the ground from which new life takes root. 

The future will always be uncertain.

While we can’t see into the future, walking the path that is ours is the only way to create the one we envision. 

Nothing informs better than a walk on the wild side.

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Let's Do It

Last evening I met with a fellow coach for a glass of wine. We don’t know one another well, and while she is at the beginning of her coaching work and I am further down the trail, we share a commitment to helping and supporting others find their way forward. Wanting to know more about my experience, she asked me to describe the work I love to do. Here’s what I told her…

I love to help others step more fully into their own lives and find their way to a life that is authentic, wholehearted, and utilizes their gifts and strengths in service to others. Whether working with a coaching client, leading a retreat, or speaking to an audience, I share some form of the same message—we are all called to help, heal, and love the world that is within our reach in ways that are uniquely ours. Whether that is as a dog trainer, artist, school custodian, greeter at Costco, football coach, volunteer firefighter, campground host, restaurant manager, pastor, yoga teacher, musician, stay-at-home parent, gas station attendant, retiree, logger, brain surgeon, production line worker, or politician, when we truly connect who we meant to be at our core with how we live out in the world, we touch the world in ways that no one else can.

Her question gets to the heart of the matter. What is the work you love to do? Even if you aren’t currently doing it, or maybe never have, what is the contribution you want to make while still on the planet?

If you don’t do it, it won’t get done.

If I don’t do it, it won’t get done.

If we don’t do it, it won’t get done.

Let’s do it!

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The Vision And The Breadcrumb Trail

Finding our way requires having both a vision and a willingness to take the steps to get there. Most of us are better at one than the other. Me? I’m all about the vision, and love imagining the end game. Whether that is standing on a stage speaking to a rapt audience, another book, launching a series of retreats, or installing a full-size labyrinth on our property, I can envision it so clearly that I can almost touch it.

All in my mind’s eye.

All that remains is getting from here to there.

The rub? It’s so much more fun to create the vision than doing what it takes to bring the vision to life.

Bringing our vision to life happens one next right step at a time. From that step, and that step only, can another one take shape, and like breadcrumbs on the trail, we follow the path that unfolds as we walk. Whether that means engaging an agent, starting the book, planning the next retreat, or learning about labyrinths, if I want my vision to come to life, I have to bring my life to the vision.

What is your vision?

What is your next right step?

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Setting The Table

This morning I woke up in Albuquerque, NM. Sitting out in the courtyard of our little casita with my coffee, I started reading a new morning book. Part of my practice to live with intention, and to show up as fully as I can for the day before me, is to spend some time reading something nourishing, something that feeds and challenges my soul. Today I turned the first page of the book, Making Sense of Mindfulness by my new-old friend, Keith Macpherson. Soul food at its finest!

What we consume in the morning sets the table for our day.

Just about then my husband Tom joined me in the courtyard. Coffee and book in hand, he settled in with me under a brilliant blue morning sky. Looking up a few moments later, I noticed him reading something on his iPhone, and from the look on his face and the language of his body, knew that he was consuming something other than soul food. Some headline, about some less than soulful action, in some political arena, had whet his appetite and he was loading his plate from a buffet table of less than nourishing stories. 

What we consume in the morning sets the table for our day.

Looking up a little sheepishly, he pushed that overflowing plate aside, and pulled up the blue plate special of the day by Richard Rohr, a Fransician priest, author, and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation here in Albuquerque, and read it out loud. We do that most mornings, and it’s like splitting an order of soul food, both eating from the same plate. Together we’ve committed to this daily morning practice, but on any given morning either of us can get sidetracked, and are grateful when the other invites us back to the practice.

What we consume in the morning sets the table for our day. 

Don’t get me wrong. I believe it’s important to stay informed, and there are terrible things going on in our world that need our attention. But in order to show up fully for playing our part in our shared human drama that is unfolding on our shared planet, we need first to nourish ourselves well. There is an abundance of research suggesting that a nutritious breakfast is essential to our health and wellbeing, and sets the tone for the day. What is good for the body is good for the soul. Let’s nourish ourselves well. The world is hungry for what we have to give. 

What we consume in the morning sets the table for our day.

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Up On The Roof

Every once in a while, it’s good to climb up onto the roof, get a glimpse down the road of what might be coming our way, and imagine the potential scenarios that could play out.

The trouble with most of our imaginations is that we tend to conjure up the worst possibilities, and then live as if they have already come true. What we see from the roof sends us scurrying for the basement to hunker down, and ride out a storm that may, or may not, blow in. When we are always preparing for the what ifs, it’s hard to be present for what is. 

The problem with this approach, which all of us are prone to take at one time or another, is that we never get around to living in the house. To fully furnishing and inhabiting the home that is the wholehearted and authentic life we are called to live. 

The roof invites us to consider a different point of view.

What if we turned our worst-case-scenario-what-if-thinking on its head, and used our imaginations to envision the best case scenarios? Began to visit the roof to conjure up our highest hopes and deepest desires, in order to get on with living our way into that vision. It is inside our home that life takes place. It is here that we live with the intention of answering our calling. It is here that we connect who we are with how we live. It is here that we find rest and renewal. It is here that we are nourished. It is here that we remember who we are, why we are, and where we are going. 

Now, as my mitigating husband is good to remind me, using the roof as an effective vantage point from which to see potential dangers, challenges, and risks, is a good practice too. Look down the road, see what’s coming, or might come, and make our preparations. Once we’ve done what we can to get ready for whatever it is, it’s time to leave the roof.  

A roof is meant to be over our heads, not under our feet. 

(Click here to listen to the one and only James Taylor singing Up On The Roof.) 

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The Pinecone

Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle is all about the pinecone. When it comes to rewarding her for a job well done, food, toys, and praise don’t even come close. It captivates her attention, narrows her focus, and her body fairly trembles with anticipation when waiting for us to release her to leap for her pinecone. She pounces on it, prances with it, and plays with it until it is nothing but a scattered pile of bits. Lucky for her, and for us, there’s plenty more where the last one came from.

Leveraging her love for the cone is one of our best tools to help her become the happiest and best her she can be. It delights, enraptures, fascinates, and bewitches her, and because of that, she is willing to do the hard work we are asking of her, and her hard work is paying off. She is developing the capacity to be patient as she resists the urge to break from her assigned place. The consistency with which she responds to our commands is growing, and her connection to us as the keepers-of-the-cone is getting stronger every day.

Come to think of it, discovering what captivates our attention, what delights, enraptures, fascinates and bewitches us sounds a lot like Gracie, and is one of our best tools for becoming our happiest and best selves.

Gracie wanted me to tell you, whatever your pinecone, find time every day to pounce on it, prance with it, and play with it . She’d tell you herself, but she’s a little busy right now.

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