Privilege

It was a bucket list trip for the two of us. With the writing of a check for our remaining balance, we were off for five days in the wilderness as seen from the back of a horse. Along with the finances to even be able to afford such a thing, to make this trip happen required two wranglers, four horses, and five, yes that’s right, five pack mules, to haul all of the gear to feed, shelter, and shuttle us through some of the most beautiful terrain we’ve ever seen.

As we headed out from the Wallowa Lake Pack Station and hit the trail, the sight of the mules carrying the load so that we could have a bucket list trip brought one, and only one, word to mind…

Privilege.

The mules were the unsung hero of the trip, as step after steady step, they bore the weight for our journey.

How often do others bear the weight so that I don’t have to?

How many unsung heroes do the work that others won’t so that I can have an easier life?

How often do I neglect to recognize that life is only possible because of the unseen work of others?

The memories of this once-in-a-lifetime-trip will be with me forever. So, I hope, will the image of the mules that made it all possible.

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Hidden Blessings

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

Hebrews 11:1

The last thing on her list was a patio off the back of her home. Hers is an old house from which she is writing a new chapter, and reflecting on her past and imagining her future would happen best in an outdoor sanctuary in her own back yard. It wouldn’t have to be big. Just enough room for outdoor furniture, some pots, a place to sip morning coffee and gather with friends for a glass of wine in the evening.

But the to-do list is long, the days for sitting out on a patio are growing shorter, and building one from the ground up would call upon already stretched resources of time, energy, and the help of others. As much as she yearned for a sacred outdoor space to call her own, looking out on her back yard she quietly let go and decided to be content with what she had, while never losing sight of what might be. If that isn’t faith, I don’t know what is.

Heading out into the back yard the next morning to dig up some weeds, her shovel hit something hard. A few shovels full of dirt later she discovered an old brick. Digging further, another one. And then another, and another, and another, until an old brick patio, buried under half a foot of sod, appeared. It had been there all along. Exactly what she had imagined and even better than what she’d hoped for, had she pushed to make a new patio happen she would have missed the blessing hidden right beneath her feet.

“Faith is a place of mystery, where we find the courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength to let go of our fear of uncertainty.” – Brene Brown

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On A Dime

All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given us.

~ GandalfJ.R.R Tolkien: The Fellowship of the Ring

It is good to remember that our days are numbered. It is hard to be reminded of how quickly our number can be up. Let’s make our lives count.

It is good to remember that life is the currency given to us to spend as we choose. It is hard to be reminded that life can turn on a dime. Let’s spend our lives well.

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My Own Medicine

As a writer, speaker, and coach, I help others connect who they are with how they live. It’s great work, and I love supporting people as they endeavor to live authentic, wholehearted lives. One of the things I find myself doing frequently in that process is encouraging them to trust that things will work out despite all evidence to the contrary.

The problem with my work is that in order to be authentic and wholehearted myself, I have to be willing to take a dose of my own medicine more often that I’d like to.

Take this morning for instance when the day before leaving on a bucket-list horse pack trip to celebrate our 25th anniversary, Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle decided to go into heat.

Things will work out.

Which meant that our well made plan to drop her off at her favorite boarding facility went out the window.

Things will work out.

Not many places will even take a dog in heat, not to mention that this is prime boarding time as people head out on vacation.

Things will work out.

At this late date, we stand to lose a substantial chunk of change if we have to cancel the trip.

It was getting harder to see how things would work out,

What to do?

At 10:30 in the morning there is only one thing to do. Make BLTs with extra bacon and extra mayo, split a beer, send up a short fervent prayer for help, and then start looking for other options. All the while trying to remember that things will work out despite all evidence to the contrary. Which they eventually did.

We just dropped Gracie off at her temporary digs. She will be alive and very happy to see us when we return, but it was hard work practicing what I preach. So for good measure we just stopped at Starbucks for grande mocha Frappuccinos. As it turns out, a spoonful of sugar really does help the medicine go down. Even my own.

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This And That

“What we focus on determines what we miss.”

Brian McLaren

Life is a mixture of this and that, all at the same time.

Good and bad, scary and brave, sacred and profane, grief and grace, hope and despair, difficult and easy, heartache and happiness, disappointment and surprise, independence and partnership, alone and together, rising and falling, strength and weakness, fierce and fragile, love and loss, life and death, constancy and change, faith and doubt.

It’s all happening all around us all of the time, and if we don’t widen our gaze, we’ll miss out, because when we only focus on this, we can’t see that.

Photo by Kush Kaushik from Pexels

Photo by Kush Kaushik from Pexels

This Not That

Some mornings we start our days with steel cut oats topped with fruit, almond milk, some nuts, and a little butter and brown sugar for good measure. Each ingredient adds to the whole, but can stand alone on its own. Even the butter. It’s delicious and we both love it. Tom however, chooses to ruin his by stirring it all up together into something I call “glop”. I love oatmeal. I hate glop. It is hard to distinguish one flavor from the other, and it’s not much to look at either.

Stick with me here, but a bowl of glop is a lot like how we can handle interpersonal challenges, especially in our long term relationships. We stir everything up together until it is almost impossible to tell one situation or issue from other ones.

Stirring everything together sounds something like this: You always… You never… This is just like when you… All the ingredients of the current issue get glopped together with a bunch of other ones, until every bite tastes the same, and it is nearly impossible to tell this from that.

Not stirring everything together sounds like this:This morning when you___ I felt… When you didn’t follow through on your commitment, this is how it impacted me. I want to talk to you about something that happened recently. Each issue or situation stands on its own.

Learning to take our issues one at a time and separate one from the other is one of the ways we grow up into the people we are meant to be (a lifelong process). It’s hard work. It means we have to take things as they come, deal with them as they come, and stay in the conversation about them. Some conversations are a one-and-done deal. Others come around again, and again, and again, each time an opportunity to show up more fully and with more personal accountability and ownership for our part of the bargain. And there is always a part of the bargain that is ours.

In my unhealthier moments, I can take a current issue, conflict, or challenging situation, and stir it up with a whole bunch of other ones from the past. Or take one thing and make it about everything. But as I choose to stop, sift through the emotions and particulars of the situation, I am learning to separate this from that, and bring this to the conversation, and leave that out.

Take it from me. It tastes really good.

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Road Trip

A good friend who is no longer with us was fond of saying that when God wants to teach us something, He takes us on a trip. I love that idea. Kind of like She is riding “shotgun” next to us, and of all the possible trips we can take, the most insightful, instructive, and inspiring, a road trip wins out, hands down. Extra points for other people in the car.

A road trip requires us to pack for the trip to the best of our ability, and yet it teaches us that we can never be prepared for every contingency, and if we try, we will be burdened with too much stuff, and miss the opportunity to get creative, wing it, and work with what we’ve got.

A road trip taken with others gives us the chance to connect in new ways, hold new kinds of conversations, and, find new ways in which we drive each other crazy. Enclosed in the same vehicle, headed in the same direction, we might just discover new ways of being on the same page.

A road trip lets us get up close and personal with anything that grabs our interest along the way. If we build in enough time to allow for a few side trips, detours, and unexpected surprises, we return home more informed, inspired, and possibly inclined to learn more about something we encountered along our way.

A road trip always has a snafu, big or small. A flat tire, road work delays, the campground that is full, the trail that is closed for the season, or the unexpected snowstorm with our chains still in the box…back in our garage. It is the snafus that make the story interesting and worth telling again, and again, and again in the years ahead.

A road trip brings out the best in us, and, the worst in us, and when those two collide, well, that’s why God took us on the trip in the first place. Stuck in a car, with miles to go, we have a chance to bring out more of the best in us, and leave behind more of the worst in us.

Roadtrip!

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Equipped

We want to be equipped for whatever comes our way.

Sometimes we are.

Sometimes we aren’t.

Whenever we come to the edge of our capacity, we have the choice to retreat back into our safe arenas, or step out into the risky territory that spans the gap between who we are now and who we want to become. It is there, and only there, that we are challenged to show up more fully, and bring more of who we are to our relationships, conversations, and the world around us.

It isn’t easy and it’s scary as hell to risk new ways of being in the world, but it is the only way I know of to become more well equipped for the life I am here to live.

Something’s Gotta Give

Only you know what it is. Nobody else can tell you what it is. If you don’t know what it is now, you will. Or you can, if you want to. It may take a little time, more than a little courage, and a splash of grace, but if you want to know what has to give in order for something else to show up, you will. Trust me on that.

What takes up space leaving no room for what wants to expand? What consumes your thoughts leaving no room for new ones to emerge? What takes up your day leaving no room for what brings you energy?

Something’s gotta give? What is it?

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