There are plenty of reasons not to show up fully for your life.
Don’t let fear be one of them.
Delores's Delight
…I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.
~ Barbara Brown Taylor - Learning To Walk In The Dark
It’s called Delores’s Delight.
The favorite dessert of my childhood, I dusted off the recipe card today and made a big batch of it for the first time in years. If I had to choose a final meal before leaving the planet, this dessert would be on the menu. While others in my family wanted cake for their birthday, I only wanted this, and if you decide to make a batch, you’ll probably know why.
Growing up, the best part about it wasn’t the first piece after dinner, delicious as it was. It was waking up in the middle of the night, sneaking into the kitchen and finding my dad there too. In the dark we would cut two more pieces and savor every bite before heading back to bed. Somehow it tasted even better in the shadow filled kitchen than the light filled dining room.
When it comes to this delectable dessert, it is the crushed dark chocolate cookies layered on the bottom and sprinkled over the top that help hold it all together and set off the flavor of the sweet, rich center. In our lives, the dark, the shadow parts of ourselves that we have been courageous enough to explore and come to know as intimately as the rest, are layered with the light, and are key ingredients in what it means to be a whole human being.
Delore’s Delight is a combination of the dark and the light, just like my relationship with my dad. And a lot like real life when it comes right down to it. In order for our lives to be authentic, wholehearted and real, we must incorporate the dark with the light in order to cook up a whole life. One without the other just doesn’t cut it.
A Question Worth Answering
Today in another rich conversation with my spiritual director, the topic of things I want to make happen, work I want to step into, but haven’t, came up. Again.
After a thoughtful pause, he quietly posed a question. What has kept you from stepping into it up until now? Now that is a question worth answering.
What is something you have really wanted to do? But haven’t.
What is something you have really wanted to make happen? But haven’t?
What is something you have really wanted to bring to life? But haven’t?
What is something you have really wanted to accomplish? But haven’t?
What has kept you from stepping into it up until now?
Now that is a question worth answering.
For all of us.
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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.
A Collective Prayer
The unexamined life is not worth living.
Socrates
Yesterday in church during a time when anyone in the congregation can share a prayer of concern or gratitude, I found my hand going up in the air almost without my consent. I hadn’t planned on sharing anything, but it seemed that something wanted to be shared and I was the one to share it. Taking the microphone that was passed down the pew to me, here was what wanted to be shared...
If our daughters were here today they would tell you that I was (still am) fond of saying that we all have our “stuff” (only I usually use a better and more descriptive word when not in church). It’s the stuff that we need to work out, usually with the help of a therapist, so that we can become our most authentic, healed, and wholehearted selves. When we don’t take our stuff on, we take it out on other people. The wounds and hurts that go untended go on to wound and hurt other people. Especially those we care the most about.
May we all have the courage to do our work.
There was a collective resonance in the sanctuary, the nodding of heads, and quiet murmurs of acknowledgement and understanding. I seem to be thinking, talking, and writing about this a lot right now, and if you are tired of reading about it here, I understand, but somehow it feels that if we don’t get this right, we don’t get anything right. Inner work is hard and uncomfortable. It requires courage and vulnerability. But it is the only way to an authentic, healed, and wholehearted life, which is why we arrived on the planet in the first place.
May we all have the courage to do our work.
Amen.
Speak Up
The power of our voice is immense. With it we come out of closets or lock ourselves in someone else’s skin, take leaps of faith or cling to the guardrail, tie a knot in the end of our rope or dig our pits a little deeper, ask for a well deserved raise or settle for what we are offered, create a loving relationship or stay in toxic ones, accuse the rapist in spite of our fear or suffer in shame because of it, ask for help or flounder and fall, ask for forgiveness or defend our transgressions. Our voice resonates through every thought, word, choice and action. And since actions speak louder than words, sometimes we speak the loudest without uttering a word. Rosa Parks didn’t stand up and give a speech. She sat down and changed the world. [ 1 ]
Several years ago during a certification process that would enable me and the others in our cohort to facilitate a high level leadership program for a global organization, we each had the opportunity to lead the rest of the group through a short portion of the material. At the end of each of our times in the front of the room, the rest of us offered feedback to help strengthen our delivery. That was the first time I officially remember hearing the impact that “upspeak”, a rising tone at the end of a sentence, can have on the delivery of a message.
One of our cohort, a whip-smart, thoughtful, and articulate woman delivered her material with confidence, connection, clarity, and, a healthy smattering of upspeak, undermining the strength of her message, and causing me to question the competence that I knew her to have. Along with the many things she had done well, I carefully offered my perspective on her use of uptalk, and as I remember it, it was news to her. She didn’t even hear herself doing it.
Upspeak is a common occurrence, having almost become a culturally accepted norm, and I hear it everywhere. It doesn’t just drive me nuts, it makes me sad. It turns any sentence into a question, softens a message whether it needs softening or not, comes across as an appeal for reassurance, and undermines whatever strengths are being called upon to speak up.
But here’s the thing.
Our voice is the instrument with which we communicate who we are to the world, and for many of us, it has taken us far too long to discover it, much less learn how to unapologetically use it. The world needs our voice now more than ever, and we each need to do the hard work of figuring out who we are, what we stand for, and then with heads held high, to speak up.
[ 1 ] Molly Davis - BLUSH: Women & Wine
Bearing Witness
Today I had the privilege of witnessing courage under fire.
Courage means speaking the truth in the face of attack.
Courage means standing our ground when the earth is crumbling beneath our feet.
Courage means standing in the presence of fear without flinching.
Courage means facing our own demons.
Courage means holding ourselves to account.
Courage means risking losing it all in service to saving our soul.
Acts of courage abound, and when one of us is brave, the rest of us might dare to be so too.
Onward.
Upward.
Together.
The Conversation
I am convinced that we have access to an innate inner wisdom that stands at the ready to assist us.
This past week I saw this inherent sense in action in the participants in the workshop I had the privilege of leading. Focused on the opportunities that await each of us to engage in important, meaningful, and necessary conversations, when asked if they could identify such an opportunity waiting for them, an interaction where the stakes were high and the emotions probably were too, there wasn’t one shake of the head in the room. It was all nods. To a person, everyone knew of at least one conversation waiting for them, and to a person, everyone knew that they were the one to start it.
We know the conversations waiting for us, even if, and perhaps most especially if, we are reluctant to have them. Call them courageous conversations, crucial conversations, inconvenient conversations, or fill-in-the-blank conversations, we know what they are, and why they are. We just don’t want to have them. We don’t want to have to muster the courage in the midst of our vulnerability. We don’t want to start something without knowing how it will turn out. We don’t want to enter the arena knowing we might need to be stitched back together. We don’t want to give voice to something fragile and important that might go unheard. We don’t want to show up and be the only one at the party. And yet, in spite of all of that, the conversation is still waiting for us.
It continues to be my experience that the more I am willing to engage in the conversations that matter, regardless of how scary, challenging, or difficult they may be, the deeper my connections grow. To others, to my convictions, and, to myself. .
Is there a conversation waiting for you?
Safe Spaces
We all need safe spaces for courageous thinking.
Let’s create them for each other.
Redemption
Redemption is always possible. As long as we draw breath, there remains the opportunity to turn things around, even if only in our own hearts. To do things differently. To be who we want to be in the midst of our circumstances, no matter how fraught or difficult they may be. The ball is always in our court, regardless of what happens on the other side of the net.
Redemption doesn’t always happen the way we hope it will. The other person may not seize the chance to turn things around. They may continue in their same vein, and to chart their same course. The ball is always in their court too. But what they do with it isn’t up to us.
Redemption can still happen even if we are the only ones showing up, and bringing the best of ourselves to the worst of situations. Because when all is said and done, sometimes knowing that we’ve done all we can with what we’ve got to work with is as redemptive as it gets.
Redemption is always possible. Even if we are the only ones being redeemed.
