Being Present

This morning three things occurred in quick succession:

I tripped over a rock that holds our screen door open because I wasn’t looking where I was going.

I ran into the door of the dog crate because I hadn’t closed it properly.

I was hit on the head when something fell off of a hook because I was moving too fast.

Life was trying to tell me something.

Be present. Instead of being where we are, we look ahead and miss what is right in front of us, or in this case, right under our feet.

Be present. Instead of tending well to what is called for now, we move ahead leaving a trail of unfinished business behind us.

Be present. Instead of running the race set before us like the long distance event that it is, we sprint ahead until life crashes down around us.

In all three instances in that short chain of events, the message was the same.

Be present.

Photo by Martin Damboldt from Pexels

Creating Space

Last night as we sat outside with a glass of wine and our calendars, we looked back over the last few weeks, and out over the ones ahead, and it was obvious that our days had been, and will be, filled with things that matter. What wasn’t obvious was space, and space matters too.

There were things that couldn’t be taken out, but some that could. One, in particular, stuck out as negotiable. It needed to be done. It just didn’t need to be done right now. With one click I deleted it off of my calendar, and not only did space open up in my days, but in my chest as well. My breathing slowed, my shoulders dropped, and an inner window opened wide.

It’s amazing what can happened when we build space into our days. Sometimes it’s easier said than done, but like anything, it’s a habit to be cultivated. Who knew rescheduling a colonoscopy could be so good for your soul?

Pixabay

The Basement

Today we tackled the basement. Old memories, holiday decorations, collections of this and that, things saved in case needed to repair other things, and on and on and on. Everything down there had a story, and it was hard to know where to start, what to save, what to store, and what to sell.

It was a daunting task.

When faced with a daunting task, it is almost impossible to take the first step.

When faced with a daunting task, it is almost impossible to do anything but take the first step.

When faced with a daunting task, it is that first step that makes the next step possible. And the next, and the next, and the next.

The basement is where we put things that we want to think about later. When later comes, a step at a time, what was daunting becomes doable, and what is doable becomes done.

What Do We Allow?

“Whatever you allow gets reinforced.”

Matt Luchisnger

This morning in a private training session with Matt, owner North West Balanced Dog Training, as we were talking about Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle, he reminded us that whatever we allow her to do reinforces that particular behavior. If we ask her to lie down, and she begins to inch her way (still on her belly of course, since she’s a clever little girl) closer and closer to a toy or morsel of food, and we allow it, we’ve just reinforced that she is welcome to do so. Which she isn’t. Not if we want her to take us seriously. Which we do.

Prior to Gracie it just never occurred to me that what works when training a dog works pretty well when training a human too. Allow fearful thoughts to creep further in, and they will. Allow others to treat us with disrespect, and they will. Allow ourselves to look for the negative, and we will. Allow old stories to rule our life, and they will.

Whatever we allow gets reinforced.

Working With What We’ve Got

It is so easy to add something new. To take a quick trip to the grocery store for a few more things rather than using what’s already in our fridge. To search for another piece of clothing rather than using what’s already in our closet. To take another online course rather than using the gifts and skills already in our wheelhouse. To paint the walls a different color rather than working with the one that’s already there.

Learning to work with what we’ve got calls on our creativity and imagination.

Learning to work with what we’ve got helps us put our talents to good use in new ways.

Learning to work with what we’ve got expands our capacity to solve problems.

Learning to work with what we’ve got teaches us to be content with what have.

Learning to work with what we’ve got helps us to be grateful for the life that is already ours.

Today a dear friend showed up with lunch in the midst of a big day of moving another dear friend into her new home. Rather than going to the store to buy more groceries for our lunch, she simply worked with what she had. And it was perfect.

Fire Safety

There is a simple fire safety technique called Stop, Drop, and Roll, that is meant to prevent further injury if our clothing ever catches fire. This technique is meant to extinguish the fire by depriving it of the oxygen which fuels it. Most of us probably remember practicing this when we were little kids, and while we hopefully haven’t had to actually put it to use, if we ever did, or do, we will know how to protect ourselves..

Emotions can be a lot like fire. A sudden small spark, if given enough air, can burst into flame and engulf us before we know it. Different emotions enflame different people. One of mine is a sudden inner rage, and while yours might be something different, what they have in common is the need for something to keep them going. We stoke our fire with the stories we tell ourselves in its presence, and without a technique to extinguish it, we continue to fan the flame into a roaring fire that will not only burn us, but can endanger those around us as well.

When it comes to our fiery emotions, maybe we can take a lesson from those three steps we learned in school The next time we feel that first spark of anger, fear, shame, resentment, guilt, anxiety, hatred, or fill-in-your-own-blank, let’s Stop, Sit, and Notice. Literally.

Stop whatever we are doing. The simple act of stopping will slow the fire down.

Sit down on the ground, a chair, our bed, the kitchen counter, or on the floor of our own mind. The simple act of sitting will give us a new vantage point from which to see.

Notice what we notice. The simple act of noticing will give us a chance to name what we see.

With practice, we can learn to catch ourselves sooner.

With practice we can learn what fuels the fire that threatens injury to us, those we love, and the world around us.

With practice we can learn instead to tend the fire that fuels us, our work, and the world within reach of its warmth.

Stop.

Sit.

Notice.

Pexels.com: morin moradi

With gratitude for the wisdom of my sister Margie, and my spiritual director, Dane Anthony.

The Third Way

Stark contrasts are visible in our little valley this summer. Out in front of our home, the once green field is quickly being devoured by the massive infestation of grasshoppers. Our lawn is barely a memory, and there is no sign that the grasshoppers are leaving anytime soon. They weren’t here last year, and they may not be here next year, but one thing is for certain, they are here now. But drive down our road and hang a left on Mt. Adams Hwy, and there are fields of daisies on either side of the road. A riot of color, it’s hard to miss them, and there is no sign that they are leaving anytime soon. They weren’t here last year, and they may not be here next year, but one thing is for certain, they are here now.

We encounter both of these vastly different views every single day, and it is tempting to only focus on one or the other. Pretend the grasshoppers don’t exist and fix our gaze on the daisies, or fixate on the dead and dying grass and forget to take in the white petals and yellow-as-the-sun centers. We can choose one or the other, but as in most things, there is a third way, and that is to choose both.

Like the dying field out our window, and the vibrant meadow down the road, there are times when life presents us with stark contrasts that invite us to encounter them together. Grace and grief, love and loss, beginnings and endings, beauty and brokenness, healing and heartache. We can choose one or the other, but as in most things, there is a third way, and that is to choose both.

When To Put It Off

There are days to do certain things, and days not to. 

Today is a do-not sort of day when it comes to resolving a current issue on my iMac. Not that I haven’t tried, but on the phone in conversation, yet again, with Apple Support, I could feel my skin start to itch and my face getting hot. It wasn’t that the person on the other end of the phone wasn’t trying to provide good service. They were. It was just that everything they asked me to try either didn’t work, I didn’t understand how to do what they were asking, or, because of our less than speedy internet service, the file they requested wouldn’t download, upload, reload or whatever-the-hell-load. 

While I have a decent number of gifts and areas of competency and expertise, technological anything is not, as they say, in my wheelhouse. Give me a relationship issue, an interpersonal communication breakdown, a roadblock to finding your true and most authentic self, or spotting wildlife, and I’m your girl. Have an issue involving technical anything, and you might as well be talking to a stump. A very frustrated stump.

The longer I stayed on the phone today, the shorter my fuse became. Due to the fact that Apple needs some real-time data in order to resolve this issue, that data needs to be collected and uploaded for their engineering team to get to the root of the problem. Due to the fact that the beautiful little valley where we live doesn’t provide us with access to the powerful internet service necessary to get them what they need, a root canal is starting to sound easier to handle. And so, I’m not going to try to handle it any more. At least not today. Tomorrow, after a good night of sleep and a workout at the gym, I’ll probably be ready to give it another go.

Timing can be everything, and attempting to do something at the wrong time rarely turns out right. Whether it be having a courageous conversation, updating a resume, creating a budget, starting therapy, seeking forgiveness, developing a new habit, ending a relationship, or resolving a frickin technical issue, doing it when we have the right mindset and emotional capacity to take it on can make all the difference.

Or…..

As my new rendition of the old saying goes…

Always put off till tomorrow what shouldn’t be done today. 

Photo by picjumbo.com from Pexels

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.

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