Tag: relationships

Cultivating Abundance and Perspective

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“Wear gratitude like a cloak and it will feed every corner of your life.” – Rumi

When I wrote the post the other day about The Games We Play, Jane Fritz (of the delightful, informative, and inspiring Robby Robin’s Journey blog) posed the question of why kids act that way. We bandied about some ideas like competition, and while I don’t know the answer, it made me observe my kids a little more closely to find some clues.

My completely unscientific survey of my little family, and I’m including myself in these results, reminded me of a couple things – that we don’t come hard-wired with a sense of abundance and that it takes some work to see a bigger picture.

The method that works again and again for me on both these points is to be grateful. And I say again and again because somehow I forget and have to find my way back to my gratitude practice. This makes me think of a quip that Brené Brown made on the subject – that having yoga clothes in her closet didn’t qualify to make her a yogi and neither does knowing the concept of gratitude make her grateful – it has to be practiced.

So, needing to cultivate the feeling of abundance and perspective, here’s my gratitude list today:

Let’s start with the basics – that I’m awake, alive, and typing this.
For the science and people that remind me that it’s also good to write things out longhand sometimes.

I’m grateful that spring has come to our neck of the woods to warm my bones.

That I got to sit in the warm evening last night and watch my kids in their uninhibited nakedness run around the back yard and squirt each other with (warm) water guns.
That they didn’t squirt me.
That when they need a break, they run into my arms, wet, out of breath, and loving life.

For the smell of BBQs coming out for the first time in Spring and wafting into my yard.

That I was able to do yoga this morning and since I was alone, groan and moan through all the tight places in my body.
That doing yoga reminded me of how grateful I am for my body that I often forget to thank for all that it does well.

For my neighbor that has planted an incredible garden of tulips and daffodils so that I slow down and enjoy it every time we go past.

For the neighbor that surprised me with a loving touch on my back at Costco and asked me to grab something from the top shelf. And for the warmth lingered long after the conversation ended.

For the warmth that exists between people.

For friends, near and far, that share their stories and lives with me.
That I get to talk with them about the things I haven’t even begun to process and then receive their wisdom.
That I’ve gotten old enough to be able to receive wisdom.

For the quiet feel of my house early in the morning.
For the way the glow of the candles I light each morning as I meditate makes me feel lit from within.
That I’m able to find peace at least once or twice a day.

For words like momentous and singular that wake me up to my experience.

That words come pretty easily for me.

For the tenor and vibration of male voices, the light touch of female voices, and the joy in young voices.
For my five senses that vie for attention and also allow me to shut my eyes and open my ears for a different experience.

For old friends that remind me of my journey through this life.
For new friends that come with that opportunity of discovery.
For the way we are all connected.

For the joy on my daughter’s face when she learned to whistle this week.

That I can ask Alexa to play Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah anytime I want.

For Jack Canfora’s gratitude list: Dear Lord, Not Another Post on This Blog About Gratitude and  WritingfromtheheartwithBrian’s 100 Things I Love that inspire me.

For the opportunities that I have to keep growing.

For the technology that allowed me and Vicki to have a podcast conversation with blogger, Brenda Harrison, from three different timezones and locations and then post it so that others can be delighted and inspired by her energy and enthusiasm. (Episode 15 of the Sharing the Heart the Matter podcast – listen and subscribe!)

That this blogging journey has allowed me to meet and converse with so many interesting people from all over.

For the hour I’ve spent writing this list and that the power of gratitude will touch me every time I go back to edit it and extend with each comment.

(featured photo from Pexels)

What Am I Training For?

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“Sometimes you have to travel a long way to find what is near.” – Paulo Coehlo

The summer before I got pregnant with Miss O, I did several long-distance bike trips with my friend, Eric. My first experience with a multi-day trip carrying only what we could stow in the bike packs was a trip where we cycled on a tandem bike from Burlington, Vermont, up into Canada to a small cheesery. Then we cycled back across the border into New York state, along Lake Champlain, rode a ferry across to Vermont, and then finally back to our starting point.

For this trip, I was riding on a tandem bike with Eric – a bike that supposedly Paul Newman once rode – a delightful bit of trivia that didn’t make the beast at all more comfortable. I figured biking was a lot like mountain climbing because it requires leg strength and an endurance mindset. And a sense of humor. Cheryl Oreglia (from the delightful and fun Living in the Gap blog) isn’t exaggerating when she says that everyone’s favorite joke for people on a tandem bike is, “She’s not pedaling.”

On that first day out, we rode for 81.48 miles which was a long day “in the saddle” as cyclists like to call it. When we finally reached our hotel for the night at some city in Vermont, I scooted off the back of the bike like it was on fire. If it wasn’t on fire, then my butt surely was. I followed my delightful teammates up to the registration desk only to find that the hot tub at the hotel was out of order. That was a deal breaker for Carol who was leading this trip.

She said we had to find a new hotel. Envisioning another mile on the bike that day, I think I just about fainted. Fortunately, we found a new place right across the street and I WALKED all the way there. When we went out to dinner, Eric found a metal plate chilling at the salad bar and gave it to me to sit on.

It made for a memorable trip – mostly because I was with a great group of people. But I swear what I remember most is the last half mile of each day as we ground out those last few feet to the blessed places we could rest our bodies for the night. That makes me wonder if I was training for endurance or enjoyment.

It’s the topic of my post for Wise & Shine today: Endurance versus Enjoyment

(all pictures from the bike trip – Vermont – Canada – New York 2014)

Just Beyond the Veil

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“Death is just a door that only love can come and go through.” T.L. Moffitt

Last week when I was walking in to Costco, the man in front of me turned and for an instant I was sure it was my dad. Next to me, Miss O was startled by the unexpected break in my fast stride and turned to look at me. I put my hand on my heart and said, “that man looks just like Bumpa.” Wide-eyed, she nodded – she’s only seen pictures but she recognized him too.

Then later last week, I was doing a technical training at the church that my dad used to be senior pastor of and was surprised by someone in the audience who asked me to say a few words about him. It wasn’t my prepared topic but since my dad is one of my favorite subjects, it was fairly easy to ramble on about him as a few errant tears rolled down my cheek.

All of this to say, my dad feels very near in recent days. He would talk about this phenomenon as someone being “just beyond the veil.” The way I’ve come to see it, I don’t exactly where he is but somehow he comes near, and then I feel the brush of his touch.

I know I’m not alone in this as I’ve heard so many great stories that give me that spine tingle of mystical knowing. Someone who picks up their voice mail and there’s an old message from a departed loved one. Or someone thinking of their loved one who has passed, and they cross paths with their loved one’s favorite animal in a completely unexpected place. Or a gift that arrives just after praying to our dearly departeds for help.

Why do I think my dad is near right now? He didn’t often tell me what to do when he was alive so I doubt he’s doing it now. I think he’s sending his love — a love that’s even more meaningful to me because we did the work to make our relationship closer in the years before his death. So that even though he died unexpectedly, he still left me with words that mean so much to me. That is what my post on W&S is this morning: Writing Last Lines That Count

(Featured photo is from my book about my dear dad, Finding My Father’s Faith.)

Your Voice In My Head

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“The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice.” – Peggy O’Mara

I have one child that says “sorry” too easily and another child for whom it’s an ongoing struggle. It makes me think of being neurotic versus character disordered ala Dr. Scott Peck.

“Most people who come to see a psychiatrist are suffering from what is called either a neurosis or a character disorder. Put most simply, these two conditions are disorders or responsibility, and as such they are opposite styles of relating to the worlds and its problems. The neurotic assumes too much responsibility; the person with a character disorder not enough.”

The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck

The problem is that I land on the neurotic side, as I’ve discussed on this blog before, so I think it’s my responsibility. By saying that, I’m not denying that it’s my responsibility, I’m just allowing for the circular logic about responsibility this question creates. It makes it hard to sit back and just let life and my children bloom.

Here’s what I like about being neurotic. I can always find something that I can work on to fix. And the downside, somethings aren’t my things to fix. As Vicki wrote so brilliantly in her post yesterday, Creativity of Being,

“I’ve concluded that relationship navigation is a creative, soulful effort.  Abandoning familiar scripts and roles, avoiding the rear-view mirror and the allure of the horizon requires ingenuity and loads of it.”

Dr. Victoria Atkinson, Creativity of Being

So I’m trying to ride the wave between the neurotic voice in my head (that came in part from my perfectionist mom) that says that I could help my kids avoid all troubles in life if they’d just get their outlook right and my curious side that asks a lot of questions when my kids come into conflict in the world. What I’m finding is that how they see an incident is the most interesting thing. Will I change their propensities to say “sorry?” I don’t know but if I become the voice in their head, I want it to be curious, not judgmental.

[A wonderful note about this title for anyone looking for a great voice – Julia Preston has a delightful, uplifting, and inspiring blog called Voices In My Head and has written a book Voices: Who’s In Charge of the Committee in My Head?

The favorite voice in my head comes from my dad and I’ve written about it on the Heart of the Matter blog this morning, “It’s Going to Be Great, Kid!”

(featured photo from Pexels)

Patience, Energy and a Little Bit of Flexibility

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“Patience is also a form of action.” Auguste Rodin

Yesterday, I was trying to get Mr. D’s pants on so that he could go to preschool. He was busy sitting on the floor playing with a truck and didn’t want to assist in any way.

When I consider the difference for me being a parent of young kids while I’m in my 50’s versus in my 20’s or 30’s, it’s this scenario with my kids that comes to mind. It’s like a silly sitcom – the same story line that happens every day but with slightly different entrances, exits, and accessories. And the thing that I bring to it as an older parent – a lot more patience. My egoic insistence that I am in charge, have to do it my way, with a rigid order has changed from my younger self.

This reminds me of playing tennis with my dad. When I was in my 20’s, I had loads of energy to run everything down and my tennis skills had got better. I thought I would have no problem beating my dad in his 50’s. But he had patience. He could steadily get all the balls back and not go for the risky winner. Instead, he had the friendliest form of banter/trash talk and he’d wait for the easy winner when I had run myself silly or was out of position.

If Mr. D doesn’t want to put his pants on at that particular moment, I let it go, do something else to get ready. When I circle back in one minute, he’ll usually cooperate with little to no problem. I can easily imagine what I would have done twenty years ago – worn myself ragged trying to either put pants on an uncooperative kid or talked myself blue in the face trying to convince him to cooperate.

Because on the flip side of this is that I don’t have the same high energy that I had 20 years ago so I have to give up the struggles that aren’t worth it. Worrying about what others think or sweating the small stuff like having a tidy house and matching socks has by necessity gone by the wayside because I simply don’t have the capacity to care about it. At the end of these days with young children, I am flat out exhausted. But with a little crafty patience, at least most days, I don’t end up as a sweaty mess.

If patience is my most useful tool as an older parent because I lack the energy of a younger one, then I’d name flexibility as the most predominant skill that parenting has taught me.

My guess is that this applies not only to tennis and parenting but also to most things we apply perspective to as we age. We learn to use a little patience to figure out which battles are worth fighting and which are avoidable skirmishes that our egos and inflexibility set us up for. Then, like my dad playing tennis, we can participate in some friendly banter and even sometimes get an easy winner in when we don’t overreach.

Still reading? I have another post today on creativity and the tools we can use to change our minds on Wise & Shine – Writing In The Dark

Self-Awareness and Reflection

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“Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?” – John Keats

When I was hanging out with my friend, Scott, yesterday over a cup of tea – well, tea for me, coffee for him, if we want to be particular about it – Scott said something like “I’m not the most empathetic person. I have to remind myself to be empathetic.” Since he’s been a friend for 25 years, I was a little surprised by this news and asked if there was a time when he realized this. He responded about 5 or 7 years ago.

So I followed up to ask what happened to change this. Scott replied that the guy that he hired as a business partner would go into companies where Scott had worked for years and then say things to him like, “Did you know Susie lives in our neighborhood too?” And Scott would be absolutely flabbergasted that he had missed all the personal information and conversation by being purely focused on business for years.

It reminds me of something I heard Dan Harris talk about on his Ten Percent Happier podcast with NYU Stern School of Business professor, Scott Galloway. That in the pursuit of economic success, they have missed many opportunities to be nicer and they’ve realized it.

I’m paraphrasing here, but what I walked away from these comments by middle-aged white men, including Scott, who I would have never labeled as insensitive, is #1, that there is a ton of pressure as men to wrap up their self-worth and identity in economic success. And #2 that some of them realize that as missed opportunities when that pressure abates. Then #3 is that they are remarkable when they do the work to change it.

You know what I love about hanging out with reflective and self-aware people? They make me smarter about my journey. In this case, about my ability to acknowledge pain in myself and others and to empathize. And it helps me when I have to answer questions from my kids so that maybe a smidgen of this reflection is passed along.

This all relates in a beautiful, big picture way to the question Miss O asked me yesterday: “Mama, Why Would We Want to Feel Their Pain? It’s my post on the Wise & Shine blog today.

(featured photo from Pexels)

Open the Doors, Let It Flow

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“Deep breathing is our nervous system’s love language.” – Dr. Lauren Fogel Mersy

There aren’t that many hot days in Seattle – maybe 10 or 12 a year so like most Seattleites, I don’t have air conditioning. When the days are hot, I close the blinds and try to open the outside doors early in the morning to let the cool morning air in.

But inevitably, there will be a room with a closed door like the laundry room that I’ll walk into after a few hot days in a row, and just get blasted by hot, fetid air.

When I first started meditating, it felt like I was doing the work to open up and cool off all those rooms inside myself that I’d closed down. It was like breathing through the airing of grief – and I had some big ones.

I had gotten divorced but because my marriage had imploded in this spectacular drama when my business partner told me of my husband’s infidelities, I hadn’t ever owned that I had wanted out of that marriage. I was far more comfortable having it all be my ex’s fault – comfortable but not honest.

When I was 18-years-old and came to study (well, that’s what we called it at least) at the University of Washington, I ran into a group of Scientologists trying to recruit new converts one afternoon. The guy who’d stopped me said, “What about yourself do you not want anyone to know?”

Miraculously, I’d gotten to 18 without having anything in that category – or so I thought. But as I got more years under my belt, I tried to maintain that same easy-breezy exterior by hiding anything that didn’t match with that persona. I was ambitious. I almost failed religious studies in college because I never went to class and it was just an elective, but I was a minister’s daughter. I drank a bottle of wine every day. I smoked when I drank. I still bore wounds from my mean older sister growing up.

Meditation changed my life when I started airing out those rooms. I was able to let go of all the energy I was using to keep those doors shut. I no longer felt the heat coming from those rooms affecting the rest of my “house.” The secrets that I thought were so explosive turned out to be way more manageable and easier to change or heal when they weren’t hidden away.

And meditation helps me maintain that baseline level of cool. Like this morning when I sat down on the meditation cushion, felt a cut on my index finger, and I thought about myself “that was stupid.” I had no idea I was still stuck on the fact that I’d taken a band-aid off my finger yesterday and then accidentally re-opened the cut when I washed and dried my hands. Such a simple thing and I was still kicking myself 12 hours later.

Open the doors, let it flow. Like with the body, it is so much easier for me to react calmly to life when I’m not over-heated. Meditation as the air conditioning for the soul.

So I’m thrilled that I was able to do a podcast with my meditation teacher, Deirdre Wilcox. Deirdre introduced me to meditation more than 10 years ago and is my go-to person for helping me air out my hot pockets. Please listen to this wonderful woman with wisdom – I believe you will walk away from it just a little bit breezier as well.

Search for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts or click here to listen to Episode 10: The Power of Intuition with Deirdre Wilcox on Anchor.

Then I hope you’ll leave any comments you have on the show notes page on Heart of the Matter.

(featured photo from Pexels)

Preparing to Meet

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“My heart laughs with joy, because I am in your presence.” – Chitmachas Chief

How do you prepare to talk with someone that you have great admiration and respect for? I once read a discussion of this question. It’s an interesting one, isn’t it? It combines the need to be courageous along with the ability to master your anxiety.

I recently wrote a quick recap of the moment that my kids and I came face to face with grammy-winner Macklemore and his kids. Did I say anything to him? Nope.

Along those lines, I can think of the time when I was in my 20’s and I got onto an elevator and it was just Bill Gates and me. All I did was squeak out a high-pitch, “Hi.” Wow – that’s profound… <eye roll>

Podcasting with fellow bloggers, creatives, and writers has given me a new opportunity to practice the skill of meeting people I admire, even if it’s just over a video call. Of course, I prepare by reading as much as I can and also writing out discussion prompts.

But it’s the quelling of the nerves that is most interesting to me. I’ve found if I can quiet the noise, it allows me to access a deeper kind of question that arises out of curiosity instead of judgment (of myself). Unsurprisingly, my go-to method is meditation. It allows me the practice of quieting my ego before stepping in to a shared conversation with another human. Sometimes, it evens allows me to listen to my intuition.

And the answer I read about to this question was in Mark Nepo’s Book of Awakening. Here’s Mark’s answer:

“’If I only have this time on Earth with this person, if I may never see them again, what is it I want or need to ask, to know? What is it I want or need to say?’”

Mark Nepo in The Book of Awakening

On that note, Vicki and I talked with blogger, film-maker, producer, director and overall story-teller, Mitch Teemley on the episode of the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast released today.

I hope you’ll to listen to this podcast so you can be inspired by this wonderful man. Search for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts or click here to listen to Episode 9: The Audacity to Believe with Mitch Teemley on Anchor.

Show notes and more links for Mitch Teemley plus a space to share the take-away gems that you glean are on the Heart of the Matter: Episode 9.

(featured photo from Pexels)

The Power of Friends

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“Friendship helps our souls grow.” Michel de Montaigne

I worked for a small, local computer consulting firm right after I graduated from college in the early 90’s. Nestled in the suburb right next to Microsoft, it was growing fast – doubling every year. Most of the new employees were my age and it was a fun working environment in which it was easy to make new friends.

So when I recently heard a Ten Percent Happier podcast with psychologist and professor at the University of Maryland, Dr. Marisa G. Franco who has recently written a book called Platonic quote the statistic that we typically have the most friends at age 25 when we are establishing our identity, it matched with my experience.

Dr. Franco had a lot of interesting stats about friendships these days like four times as many people report having no friends as compared to the early 90’s and 2012, the year of the introduction of the smart phone, correlates with a rise in loneliness. One of the interesting things she added about smart phones and social media is that when we use them to connect with people (aka comment and message) and not just lurk, they can be useful tools in supporting friendships.

She also talked about how friends help us grow. Alone, we have an instinct to be on the lookout for danger that can be calmed when we cultivate good connections:

“Healthy and quality connections and it can ground us and center us more, our souls grow because it gives us the space to figure out who we are because we’re not in that active state of threat anymore. Friendship, good quality friendship, good quality connection it regulates us, it helps us feel less activated all the time, less reactive all the time.”

Dr. Marisa G. Franco

I feel so blessed to be part of this blogging community where it has felt easy to create quality connections with other delightful, thoughtful, and interesting people. Establishing friendships with other parents in this phase of life of having young kids has felt much harder by contrast. Dr. Franco’s research on how attachment theory applies to friendships and making new friends is the topic of my Wise & Shine post for today: The Art and Science of Making New Friends

(featured photo from Pexels)

I Have No Words

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“Dogs do speak, but only to those who know how to listen.” – Orhan Pamuk

When I first started this blog, it was mostly a place for the pictures I took of my dear dog, Biscuit, and the signs he’d pose with. And even though I wrote them, I swear I was channeling his sweet and funny messages, referee calls, and commentary on life. Every once in a while the cat would get to pose with a sign as well. Here’s a slideshow of some of his best signs:

So I felt wordless when Biscuit died six years ago at almost 14-years-old. The day after he passed, all I had was a sign for the cat who seemed equally as lost:

That space and time we need to find our words again after something monumental has happened in our lives is the subject of my Wise & Shine post for today: Writing From The Heart