11.25.2014

relational fire setting (ferguson, facebook, and fire safety)

it’s been a little more than twelve hours since the grand jury in ferguson missouri announced their conclusion and there are fires everywhere. actual fires burning in and around the city (and elsewhere) and relational fires burning everywhere.

it is important to be aware that our words can be like sparks. they fall upon ears connected to hearts and minds where our language starts relational fires all the time. 

in a time when throwing words into wide open spaces is easier and farther reaching than ever, it is important to be mindful of the impact of what proceeds from our lips and our finger tips. in a culture where delaying is rare and impulsive commenting a national pass time we are constantly throwing sparks into the wind. because the ears that our words reach often exist in living rooms and coffee shops and homes far removed from the ones in which we sit it’s become far too easy to fail to consider the tinder we are throwing sparks toward. 

when building a bonfire at the beach or a camp fire in the woods we are told to survey the area, to prepare and light the fire with intention, to consider the size and scope of the fire relative to the setting, and to have what we need to put the fire out before we light it. lighting a fire without the right conditions can be futile or dangerous. either it just won’t work or it runs the risk of burning out of control, of spreading, of becoming dangerous.

what might our discourse today look like if we used the same caution? if we thought first (and long and hard) then crafted well constructed comments to be placed with intention out in the world? if we tended these comments with caution and care for everyone around the fire in mind (as opposed to caring only for our own safety or escape plane)?


physical fires are not the only dangerous ones. relational burns can be every bit as destructive. fire is a beautiful gift and unfathomable tool. i am spending my day praying, intending, and hoping that we will use the fire of our words respectfully, empathically, mindfully, and with love which is the way that all super powers are best engaged.

11.18.2014

finding your ten minutes (sh*t still & other ideas)

research out of university of virginia this past summer found that a majority of individuals asked to spend between six and fifteen minutes in a room alone with no stimuli chose to administer a light electrical shock to themselves over having no stimulation at all. this may seem extreme but it really doesn’t surprise me at all. 
as a person who has become hyper-aware of our cultural dependence upon technology, media, and digital devices, i notice this phenomenon all the time. from where i sit it seems as though we are increasingly uncomfortable when we find ourselves alone, still, quiet, or in any other number of what we might consider to be under-stimulated states. notice any group of people standing in line, waiting for their table at a restaurant, or sitting just about anywhere alone and you will likely see a phone or two (or ten). as a people we would rather do just about anything other than wait in an open and receptive posture. so, instead, we surf, search, read, comment, post, and tweet. 

the conundrum we’ve created for ourselves is profound. we are uncomfortable with stillness of mind/heart/body so we don’t require it of ourselves. consequently, the less we practice being bored, quiet, and still the less capacity we have to handle these states of being. in no time, we have developed the habit of distracting ourselves and any ability we did have to tolerate boredom (otherwise known as “open and receptive states of mind and body”) has atrophied due to under-use.

this cycle will not stop itself. 

neither will it be easy to reverse.

it is, however, worth it to try.

ten minutes a day is all it takes to double the grey matter in the regions of your brain related to emotional regulation and self control. while the participants in the research that brought us this finding were engaged in mindfulness meditation (much like contemplative prayer) for those ten minutes, i am convinced that even letting our minds wander in non-judgmental ways, or being still and quiet while soaking in the surroundings, or any number of other self directed experiences might have similar effects. 

there is an immense amount of freedom in finding ourselves able to entertain, stimulate, soothe, and regulate. being dependent upon a device for these things leaves us, well, dependent. finding ten minutes to do so could, quite literally, change our lives. it could increase our creativity, lead to greater cardiac health, open doors to calmness and internal peace, grow our capacity for empathic, authentic connection to others and more.

finding our ten minutes need not be a challenge. here are some places to grab them back from:

time spent waiting in line.
time spent mindlessly surfing facebook, youtube, twitter (or any other number of sites).
time spent watching the binge watching the third (or tenth) episode of that favorite show.
time spent at red lights or stuck in traffic (turn off the radio and leave your phone in the trunk).
time spent waiting for your coffee/to go/meal order to be prepared.
time spent waiting for a friend.
at a meal (or coffee date) you take yourself out to...alone. with no book or phone.
on a walk where you leave your phone behind.
on a silent sit where you sit someplace in public for 10 minutes and do nothing but look up and around.
at a library or museum where you can be quietly with others.
time spent in the bathroom. (a very creative university administrative staff person (yes, that’s you chett!!) recently suggested, after hearing that students tweet from the toilet at one of my talks, that we start “sh*t still: a contemplative movement of people committed to quiet potty time.” i could not agree with him more!!!)
time spent lying in bed before or after sleep. (i recently saw an art print that said something like “you’re the person i want to lie next to and look at my phone.” ugh...)

phone free time can change us. it can empower us to know ourselves and our abilities to live in the world. it can make us squirm and make us grow. it is worth the effort and it is possible. it will feel odd at first. and we might fumble and look foolish and feel even more strange than we look. anything worth doing is worth doing awkwardly and this is worth doing.

so, i challenge you, find your ten minutes and fumble through it with awkward empowering strange and fulfilling confidence. the pay off just might astound you.


11.13.2014

relational thanks giving

it’s been a full fall. travel, speaking engagements, and an ability to stretch whatever is left in the fridge has meant that i haven’t done a real grocery shopping trip in several weeks. the farm stand nearby has provided plenty of produce and we’ve just made due without every thing else. this week, however, i am home and i’m ready to stock up, to fill my fridge and freezer, and to make soup. lots and lots of soup. so, tonight, i went to the store. several of them actually. and...i am stunned. the holidays, it seems, are now “officially sponsored” by a gazillion brands touting pumpkin this, matzo that, and peppermint everything to make “your holiday table complete.” end caps overflow with “holiday favorites” and “frozen” themed cereal/fruitsnacks/hotchocolate/andeverythingelse (all “stocking stuffer approved”). pumpkin marshmallows, power bars, and chips (yes...they exist...pumpkin chips) promise to “elevate your thanksgiving table.” menorahs, christmas lights, and ornaments sit happily next to the thanksgiving table decorations (which are now on clearance) and everything everywhere seems to scream “BUY THIS AMAZINGLY THEMED FOOD/DRINK/GIFT/DECORATION TO MAKE YOUR HOLIDAY GATHERING PERFECT.” 

ladies and gentlemen, there is no such thing as a perfect holiday GATHERING and, if there were, you certainly would not find the elements for it at a store.

this is a stressful time of year for many. expectations are high. romanticized notions of family and celebration are before us everywhere. time is short and calendars are full. the options are hyper-plentiful (roast your own organic pumpkin and make your own pastry for pumpkin pie, order one from the bakery, buy frozen crusts and canned pumpkin, buy pre-made crusts but use fresh pumpkin, buy a frozen pie?) gone are the days of a few cut flowers on the thanksgiving table which held turkey and gravy, potatoes, stuffing, and cranberries. oh, and, green bean casserole.

the family that i married into holds a large thanksgiving potluck every year. the first year that i attended, my stress level was high. i was a novice cook from an urban home heading out to the country to contribute a dish to a table full of delicacies made by generations of from-scratch cooks. these were folks who grew their own gardens and made their own grape juice. they canned and dehydrated and baked bread. i wanted to be embraced by these magees who, i assumed, had never bought a convenience food mix of any kind. i wanted to contribute something hearty and wholly homemade to their feast so i went to work peeling potatoes, toasting home made bread crumbs, going from store to store trying to find fresh herbs (this was 1987 when grocery stores showed no evidence of herbs other than in the dry good area). i made my own stock and bought butter from a local dairy. i stayed up cooking most of the night before thanksgiving and woke up early that morning to finish. hours later i entered the gathering with pans of home made mashed potatoes and stuffing, a raging headache, and feeling like i might either cry or throw up if anyone looked at, let alone talked to, me. exhausted and nervous, i was giving my husband the silent treatment simply because it was his family i was trying so hard to impress. as the day went on and a few kind family members complimented me on my stuffing (which was soggy, overly salted, and passable at best) i began to relax enough to eat. by that time my offerings were gone so i helped myself to a heaping plate of the stuffing and mashed potatoes that grandma herself had made. they tasted, as i expected they would, amazing. i went back for more and, low and behold, learned from grandma herself that both had come fresh from boxes. “oh goodness,” grandma said, “i don’t have time for all that work on thanksgiving. not when everyone is coming over. this stuff (pointing to the boxes in the pantry) works just fine.” this wisdom will stick with me forever. i had made assumptions about what was important for this particular family time (from scratch cooking) and had missed the mark all together. what was most important to the magees was the togetherness and my misdirected effort left me largely unavailable for that.

where we put our time and energy, our forethought and intentions, our hearts and even our money, matters. it matters not because there is judgement or punishment awaiting us if we spend them “incorrectly” but, instead, because these expenditures shape us. i am not, by nature or practice, a cook. by trying to present myself as one i profoundly shaped the experience i had 27 years ago. working for the “wow, you really outdid yourself!” and “you fit in with all of us kitchen savvy magees” caused me to miss the opportunity to share myself authentically. in some ways, i didn’t bring what i really, most meaningfully, am meant to bring to the “table.” 

what do you have to contribute to the potluck that is november and december? retail establishments of all kinds will tell you that, whatever it is, it is not enough. they’ll suggest (in passive and active ways) that you “need” to supplement whatever you’ve got with an unending variety of items, large and small (take, for instance, the pilgrim/colored leaf/turkey/corn husk name card holders i saw this evening). the not-so-subtle messages are, “what you’ve got isn’t enough. more is better. in every way possible. every. single. time.” 

these are lies.

you are made to bring something specific to the community of which you are a part. if you haven’t found that community yet i know that there is one out there for you within which you play a unique role (i’d also love to help you find it). grandma magee knew that her role was to create the space and welcome people. the potatoes and stuffing were add ons. my role was to be a dodgen in the midst of magees...bringing a different kind of energy, connection, and “doreen-ness” to the family gatherings. 

what do you best bring and what might you be tempted to bring that is so far outside of your authentic gifting that it will keep you from being present? if your gift takes the form of creating ambiance and space, then, by all means, decorate. if it is cooking, do that part. perhaps your gift isn’t one that retail circulars address. maybe you haven’t even seen it as “bringable” but, when we think about it, aren’t listening and asking questions or playing the ukelele or leading the charge for a post meal game or walk or song fest all gifts? even the introverted community member plays an important part, holding the peaceful and deeply internal balance of the group. the bottom line is, if each of us were to confidently offer that which we were made to bring, our gatherings would be richer, heartier, more unique, diverse, and mult-faceted than what any picture perfect holiday table depiction could offer. culture, history, and tradition tell us that the perfect turkey is key but that simply isn’t so. the most important part of your gathering may have nothing to do with turkeys or food or even a set table.

knowing where, as fredrick buechner says best, “our great gladness meets the needs of the world” provides an incredibly important spotting point as we head into the part sprint/part marathon of the holiday months. it can free us from wheel spinning, unrewarding, fruitless, and sometimes actually harmful ambitious effort and empower us to contribute boldly.


so, this year, in a world that tells us that only the “more-than-full-meal/house/event/gathering-deal”  will do, i challenge us to open some boxes, add water, set the dish on the table and proceed to give the most meaningful potluck offering possible...that of yourself.