The Residual Effect

re·sid·u·al/riˈzijo͞oəl/

adjective - remaining after the greater part or quantity has gone

 Recently I had the experience of spending several days with very good friends. Three of us are colleagues and meet together on a monthly basis for a video visit. Our intent is always to show up authentically, speak truthfully, listen deeply, and help each other become more of the people we are meant to be. One of our trio had the idea of finding time for a longer connection. One that was more  up close and personal than can transpire in a couple of hours every month. A time to step aside from the goings on of our everyday lives, and for good measure, to bring our partners with us. I wrote about this experience in an earlier post at the beginning of our time in the house overlooking the water that we rented for our getaway...

Our agenda? To show up as ourselves.

The topics for our time together? Whatever felt real, relevant, and revelatory. 

Looking back a week later, it is clear to me that when it came to showing up authentically and sharing the real, the relevant, and the revelatory, everyone knocked it out of the park. Not because of a need to perform or succeed, but rather out of a desire to be known and seen.  Riding the ferry back to the lives that awaited each of us, I think we all felt enlivened, enriched, and challenged by our conversations and the connections forged over morning coffee, long meandering hikes in the woods, shared meals, and time spent lingering over another glass of wine. We shared stories both fragile and funny, read poetry aloud to one another, dug deeper into what makes us tick and the forces that have shaped us into the people we are today. We posed questions and gave our best answers, cooked for one another and cleaned up after each other, and when we left it is safe to say we all knew ourselves, and one another, better than when we arrived, and we can’t wait to do it again. The cool thing is, we don’t have to wait for a next time to experience more of the goodness that happened, because there seems to be a residual effect that is keeping the experience alive. Whether that means a sense of being more present and engaged, experiencing the light of clarity, or a renewed sense of purpose and vocation, our time together changed us.

What we experience has a residual effect that can linger and endure for good or for ill, which suggests that we are wise to be mindful of how we spend our time and with whom. 

Written with gratitude for Tom, David, Theresa, Alia, and Kyle.  

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

Being A Better Human Being

Every day there are so many opportunities to practice being a better human being. Or at least there are for me. Most of the time those opportunities come in the form of other human beings. Take today for instance. Thanks to my interactions with others, I’ve had the chance to apologize, circle back, gain clarity, have a go at a better conversation, listen more deeply, bear witness to pain, express appreciation, catch myself before really making a mess of things, not catch myself and have to clean up the mess, and last but not least, have a good laugh at myself for how far I still have to go.

Such life lessons don’t happen in a vacuum. They only happen when we are in relationship with others. Sometimes those others push our buttons, and bingo, there is another chance to practice being a better human being. Other times we push their buttons, and bingo. Another chance to practice being a better human being. When they hold up a mirror for us to see when we aren’t being a better human being, bingo… I think you catch my drift.

As we all know, or should know by now, when things are good, it usually has a lot to do with people and relationships. When things go bad, it usually has a lot to do with people and relationships. And of course, when things get ugly, it usually has a lot to do with people and relationships. One thing I know for sure is that I want to help tip the scales for the good, rather than the bad or the ugly. Lucky for me, every day is filled with new opportunities to practice.

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.

Lessons From The Ranch

As I write this, I am anticipating getting on an airplane tomorrow, along with my best friend Kristine, and heading for one of my favorite places on earth, Rancho La Puerta, a destination fitness and spa retreat. We are going as presenters, and throughout the week will work to create a safe space for some courageous thinking for any guests who choose to join us. Our theme is Matters That Matter: At The Trailhead. The intent of our work there is to allow people the time and space to consider where life might be calling them from the trailhead that is their life, and how they can best respond to that invitation. 

It is good work, and a privilege to be asked to return, joining an incredible cohort of presenters from around the world. But what is an even greater privilege is the opportunity to learn right along with those in our audience. The questions we ask them to consider call upon them to be both brave and vulnerable all in the same moment, and if we are going to ask it of them, we must ask it of ourselves as well. So while we are there as teachers, we are also there as fellow learners. 

I never know what I am going to discover when there, but I am certain of one thing; after many trips to this sacred place there are always lessons for me to learn, and I’m looking forward to sharing them with you throughout the week.

Threshold Moments

There are such things as Threshold Moments. Those times when we are invited to step over fear and uncertainty, cross over the border of the familiar and the comfortable, and venture into the unknown. Marking both the ending of what has been, and the beginning of what could be, it is the threshold that bridges the gap.

Sometimes that threshold sits beneath a door that opens inward, summoning us deeper into self-knowledge and awareness. This usually requires that we find the courage to look into our shadows, those parts of ourselves that we prefer to ignore or keep hidden, or those issues and relationships that call for our attention, but are painful, or scary to look at.

At other times we are invited to venture further out, beyond the boundaries we’ve come to count on. Taking risks, embarking on new work, making important changes, and practicing new ways of being in the world.

Threshold moments are game changers, and the choice is always ours to step over the threshold.

Or not.

Either way the game changes.

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. 

A Safe Space

“The distance between what you want – what you clandestinely imagine in between the ritual tasks of the day – and where you are, is long.

The distance between where you are today and a first action toward what you want is embarrassingly short.

To be confused about the difference between near and far is to free your mind and bind your feet.”

David Berry - Rule13Learning

My first retreat of 2019 is over. Today I witnessed those present spend their precious day considering what it might mean for them to live more closely connected to who they are, why they are here, and where their life is calling them. Theirs was, as it always is, incredibly brave work, and I am humbled and grateful to have been their trail guide.

Today, as in any of my work, my greatest task was to help create a safe space. At the end of this day, here is what I am reminded of once again:

Given a safe space, people are able to engage in breathtakingly courageous thinking.

Given a safe space, people are able to recognize, listen to, and trust their inner teacher.

Given a safe space, people are able to show up for themselves, and for one another.

Given a safe space, people are able to find the courage to take the next right step, no matter how small or large it may be.

The Trailhead

There is a trail leading deeper into our lives, and the trailhead lies squarely beneath our feet. Personally and professionally, taking the next right step begins with a right understanding of where we are now. Moving forward, our task is to follow the trail that connects who we are with how we live, so as not to get lost in a life that isn't our own. 

Today I’m leading a retreat, and we will be considering three questions. Perhaps you’d like to join us.

Where are you now?

Where is life calling you?

How will you get there?

Our lives don't happen by accident; we participate in creating them every day, and one step at a time.

Believing Our Ears

When I was in college, a good way to clear my head and get reenergized for a long night of studying was to go for a nice long afternoon run. A favorite route was the trail that snaked its way around the edges of the par-3 golf course on campus.

There was one particular run, that I almost didn’t take, but am so glad that I did.

Living off campus in an apartment, I threw on my running clothes, hopped into my white 65 Mustang, and headed for the golf course. On the way there it started to rain, and by the time I parked the car, it was raining even harder.

Or so it sounded on the metal roof of my car.

The rain hitting that metal roof sounded like a torrential downpour. While not a fair-weather runner by any means, which one can’t be if one lives in the Pacific Northwest, the longer I sat there, the more reasons I came up with not to get out of the car. It would be too cold, too wet, too muddy on the course, and too much bother to deal with my wet running clothes back in our apartment with no washer and dryer. Not only that, it was raining even harder.

Or so it sounded on the metal roof of my car.

Just about to put the key in the ignition and head back home, I suddenly thought of all the reasons to get out of the car. After every run, I always felt better, and logging those three-miles left me with energy, clarity, and a more positive outlook. While I didn’t give in and start the car, I didn’t get out of it either, and, it was raining even harder.

Or so it sounded on the metal roof of my car.

I sat there for a few more minutes, pondering my dilemma. To run, or not to run? Before I could change my mind, I grabbed the door handle, stepped out of the car, and immediately found that the rain that sounded like a downpour was actually just a gentle spring rain. Cool and invigorating, the conditions were perfect for a run.

45 years later, I still remember the feel of the rain on my face, the good endorphins that come when we move our bodies, and, how glad I was that I didn’t let the sound of the rain, on the metal roof of my car, keep me from hitting the trail.

Sometimes it’s good not to believe our ears.

image: mustang dreams.com