You Are Welcome

We live on Inclusivity Lane. A half mile stretch of gravel road, it meanders along the edge of the pine woods and open meadow leading to our driveway.

I love that we live on a road called Inclusivity. It’s a conversation starter for sure, and I never wait for people to ask when giving them our address, I just go ahead and spell it for them. But the reason I really love it is because of the message it sends.

You are welcome here.

In a few hours, our family will start to arrive for Rodeo Weekend, and a rite of passage is that once off the main road and onto ours, one of the “littles”, as we call them, climbs onto the lap of the parent that is driving the car, and takes over ( with help of course). The car creeps along, zigging this way, and zagging that, until they come to a stop and everyone pours out of the car. 

There will be about 26 people this year camping out under the pines, tucked into a guest room or the Airstream Trailer parked across the driveway, gathering for morning coffee by an outdoor fire as the sun hits the mountain, cheering on the cowboys and cowgirls at the Rodeo, riding in the parade through town, holding babies, and sharing KP duty.

It’s simply the best.

It’s the best not because we are all the same, but because we aren’t. While we hold many things in common, there are plenty that we don’t. We love each other deeply and are connected and committed, not because of our similarities but in spite of our differences. 

That is why living on this road makes me so happy. 

If  you find your way to our little town, keep an eye out for Inclusivity Lane and wind your way to our home.

You are welcome here.

In Need of a Dock

There are days when I am so in need of grace that I can hardly catch my breath. When it seems that try as I might, I am unable to find an inner dock on which to drag myself out of the murky waters in which I am drowning.

As you might suspect, today is one of those days.

Our family arrives tomorrow for our annual Father’s Day Glenwood Rodeo Weekend Gathering, which I love.  It is way too hot, which I hate. Projects are running behind, which should be expected, but somehow have caught me by surprise. Again. Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle picked now to have intestinal issues, which should evoke my compassion, the operative word being ‘should'.

I could continue, but you probably get the gist.

Searching madly for something to grab onto an hour ago, I remembered a poem by Carrie Newcomer that my spiritual director, Dane, shared with me after our last session together. I had every good intention of reading it the day he sent it to me, and, as we all know, the road-to-you-know-where is paved with good intentions.

Drinking in the words, I found a grace soaked dock on which to rest, and there is no doubt that the timing of finding it was heaven sent. If you are in need of a dock on which to rest, feel free to join me there, and we can sit with not knowing together.

I’m Learning to Sit With Not Knowing

Carrie Newcomer

I am learning to sit with not knowing.

Even when my restless mind begins jumping

from a worried

“what next”, 

to a frightened

“what if”, 

to a hard edged and impatient, 

“why aren’t you already there?”

I’m learning to sit and listen

to pat myself on the knee,

lay my hand on my heart,

take another deep breath, 

laugh at myself,

befriend my mistakes,

especially the ones,

that showed me how,

I most needed to change.

I’m learning to sit with whatever comes

even though I’m a planner,

because so much of this life

can’t be measured or predicted

or evenly portioned.

Because wonder and suffering visit

when we least expect 

and rarely in equal measure.

I’m learning to sit with what

I might never know

might never learn

might never heal

with what might waltz in and surprise me

might nudge me into the risky business of growing

might crash into my days

with unspeakable sorrow

or uncontainable delight.

I’m learning to sit 

with not knowing.

Photo by Yiğit Yıldırım from Pexels

With deep gratitude yet again, for Dane Anthony for walking with me on my spiritual trail, for my one and only sister Margie for never leaving my side, for my niece Katie for always bringing a spirit of peace to the adventure, for Harper Joy for bringing us joy, for my geologist Tom for caring that I care not only about how things function but also for how they look, and for my hermano-in-law Bobby for always showing up no matter what.

Damn Straight

There is an important project underway at our home. A dog run for Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle. It has been on the to-do list for awhile now, but suddenly there is a critical reason for it to be done NOW. She is over 8 months old and could be going into heat for the first time any day now. This weekend a male dog will be joining us when our family gathers for the rodeo, and this handsome Brittany Spaniel is still fully capable of siring a litter. Now I’m sure he and lovely Gracie would make beautiful babies together, but (a) she is too young, and (b) we are too old, or at least wise enough to know better than to take on a litter of puppies. Thus, the construction of Gracie’s Space is in full swing.

It has taken Tom two days to align the fence posts perfectly. It’s been a slow process of measuring, adjusting, cutting, re-measuring, re-adjusting, re-cutting, re-re-measuring, re-re-adjusting, and re-re-cutting, until, as Tom proudly muttered today from beneath his cowboy hat covered sweaty brow, If you find f#%*ing straighter posts anywhere, you let me know.

And those suckers are straight, no doubt about it. With the temperatures soaring and the deadline for the weekend looming, it would have been easy for him to cut corners and do with straight that was good enough. But for this pen to embody that magical combination of form and function, straight posts are the corner stone on which it all hinges.

There are times to cut corners. Situations where good enough is well, good enough. Not every project or task is worth the effort. But some are.

Is Gracie worth the extra effort to do it right you might ask?

You’re damn straight she is!

2:00AM

What is it about 2:00 am?

What if Social Security goes bankrupt in my lifetime?

How will I ever pay off my student loans?

What if we run into a bear on our backpacking trip?

What if I lose my biggest client?

What if I fall asleep in the car tomorrow on the way to my sister’s house?

Will I have enough money to last for the rest of my life?

What if my baby never learns to sleep through the night?

What if no one buys my book?

What if my house doesn’t sell?

Did I drink too much last night?

Where will I live?

What did I do wrong?

What if my test shows that I have cancer?

Am I getting dementia?

Will I ever fit into those jeans again?

These are the thoughts that show up in the middle of the night, and we can’t seem to find our way out of the maze that is fear, worry, anxiety, overwhelm, and hopelessness. While most of those thoughts fade away as a new day dawns, there are those that seem to be repeat guests. As darkness settles around us, they find our vacancy sign turned on, making room for them to crawl in with us again. Instead of enduring another night of tossing and turning, maybe we can recognize such thoughts as a wake-up call. Like an alarm clock, they are a signal meant to wake us up to a need or issue that needs our attention.

Worried about student debt? Call a credit counseling service and make a plan.

Quaking at the thought of a bear in the middle of the trail? Order a can of bear spray.

Ruminating on what you did to cause the rift in a relationship? Go for a walk together and dig a little deeper.

Hate the feeling of those tight jeans? Throw them out, or get on the treadmill.

Whatever it is that keeps us awake at night is best addressed in the light of day.

Photo: Pixabay

This Is It

Over an early morning cup of coffee, my dear friend and I were talking about how much time people (ourselves included) spend working on it. We talked about all the its in our lives. All the things we’ve worked on in order to get better, do better, be better. We’ve worked on ourselves, our relationships, our work, and everything in between, and we worked on whatever it was as if it were a destination. A place to arrive and finally be done with it.

And then we got it.

This is it.

This is it.

This is it.

This is it.

Always has been. Always will be.

Care-Full

So often what we never seem to get around to, is taking care of ourselves. I’m going to go out on a pretty sturdy limb here, and say that this is especially true of women. Our days are so easily filled with tending to the often very necessary and important needs of others, that we easily find ourselves, at the end of the day, resolving to do something about our own lack of attention to our own.

What is one act of care that you can offer to yourself today? This week? This month?

Pentecost

In my tradition, today, on the seventh Sunday after Easter, we celebrate Pentecost, remembering the story of the Holy Spirit descending on those gathered in the name of the Carpenter, to celebrate the Jewish festival of Shavuot. The Spirit sounded like a fierce wind, and looked like tongues of fire. According to the story, those there felt themselves so filled with the Spirit of the Holy that they were able to speak in new languages.

There are days when I long to speak in a new language. One that blesses those who hear it. One that reflects the image of the One in whom we are all created. One that offers the message that has been true since before the beginning of time. A language that says to all, you are loved, you are seen, and you belong.

But man is that hard some days.

It has been windy around our home this week, and the sound of the wind in the pines is nothing if not the Spirit of the Holy, reminding me that Pentecost isn’t a one-and-done deal, but an ongoing story that is meant to be lived again, and again, and again. Today as we head to our church wearing red to symbolize those flaming tongues of fire, to gather again in the name of the Carpenter, I want to remember that that new language isn’t new at all. Our first language, it is as old as the wind that blows through the pines, and it is right on the tip of my tongue waiting to be heard in a world more thirsty for the message than ever.

You are loved.

You are seen.

You belong.

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.

Washing Windows

Once a year we get our windows washed, and the before and after is noticeable. We’re good about scheduling a trusted professional once a year to tackle the task, but the upkeep in between, which is up to us, tends to slip right off our radar screen. The truth of the matter is, it wouldn’t take much effort to maintain our windows, keeping them clean and clear to enjoy the beautiful view. A little spritz of windex here, a swipe of a paper towel there, and just like that, the smudges, spatters, bird-strikes, and spots would disappear.

The same holds true for the lens through which we look out at the world. Tending to the things which cloud our vision is easier when we do it in real time, rather than waiting for stuff to build up. When we notice that we are looking at life through the window of an old story, negative self-talk, or a toxic thought, we can do what needs to be done to address it, giving us clear glass through which to see.

Looking out through our windows today, the view hasn’t changed, but the glass through which we see it has.

Inside Plumbing

Plumbing issues can be the worst. I’ve had my share over the years, and maybe you have too. Like those times when you find bits of lettuce floating in a bath tub that has backed up, or the laundry room floor has a half an inch of water on Christmas Eve, or you open the door to the basement only to find a small flood in progress.

In a plumbing system there are valves that allow us to turn things on and off, and to regulate the flow of water coming out of the faucet, from a slow drip to a gushing stream. The pipes in the system are meant to allow the water to flow freely, but when there is a blockage, everything begins to back up and overflow in areas we wish it wouldn’t.

When it comes to plumbing problems, the timing is rarely convenient. When things are running smoothly we probably don’t give it a second thought, and tend to take sinks that drain and pipes that don’t leak for granted until something goes wrong. Suddenly it is all we think about, because when there is a problem with the plumbing, things come to a screeching halt. Drains clog, sinks overflow, and household tasks have to wait until the source of the problem is located and dealt with. Sometime that’s an easy fix. Nothing that a little drain cleaner won’t fix. Then there are those other times when we have to call in some help. We need someone who knows their way around the maze that is a plumbing system. Sometimes that means a trusted someone who is handy with a wrench, and other times it means calling on the help and expertise of a professional. Either way, when things get backed up, it’s time to get some help

As usual, I find myself connecting the dots between what goes on out in the world with that which happens in our inner world. It is as if we come with our own internal emotional plumbing system, where thoughts, feelings, and words are meant to flow freely, and where we have the ability to regulate that flow. The condition of the pipes, keeping them open and in good working order requires our mindful attention. When things are running smoothly, we don’t usually give that internal system a second thought, and tend to take relationships and ease of communication for granted. Then suddenly something goes wrong, and it’s all we think about. We discover that there is a blockage somewhere, and stuff begins to back up and overflow in areas, which usually means on other people, that we wish it wouldn’t. Sometimes it is an easy fix. Nothing that a little reflection and self-care won’t fix. Then there are those other times when we have to call in some help. We need someone who knows their way around the maze that is the human heart. Sometimes that means a trusted someone, and other times it means calling on the help and expertise of a professional. Either way, when things get backed up, it’s time to get some help.

Photo: Pexels-(Digital Buggu)

Digital Buggu