My coaching is listening deeply, all the way to the bottom. Then, it’s saying what I hear, to verify its authenticity. Finally, it’s offering a tool or a story with a different perspective, to lift my client into a new way of being.
Someone did it for me, and I pass it on.
Somehow during this season it feels right to focus on the gifts we have to give—to bring them into our conscious awareness.
I’m having a quiet Christmas, enjoying the occasional company of friends in small numbers. As I look back over all the Christmases of my life, I realize the best ones have been quiet. Maybe it’s because I can be still and listen, savoring the presence of love.
You write it: What have been your best Christmases?
It’s here. Thanksgiving. The day we have set aside to be consciously grateful for what we have and, maybe, for what we don’t have.
I’ve had two very tough years, in many ways. My husband died. I became ill. Then I was injured. Yet, through all of it, helpers came. I experienced love and commitment and healing. I am reassured that, whatever happens, people will come to help, and my world will expand.
That’s what I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving. How about you?
From my early morning window, I see trees of yellow, orange, and red. As the sun rises, the colors become ever more vibrant. Beauty and peace: How I start my day.
You write it: How do you start your day?
My candidate lost the election. To cope, I’ve used several slogans of a 12-step program: ”Be where my feet are.” “Accept the things I cannot change.” “This, too, shall pass.”
Everything helped, for a few days. Then I caught myself looking suspiciously at other people, wondering, “Did they vote for him?” I didn’t like where my mind was heading.
This morning, in a meditation with a friend, an image came to me. I was in a very narrow spotlight. Very narrow. The clear message was, “Stay in the light.”
You write it: How are you coping with loss of what you wanted?
A friend posted this story from Thich Nhat Hanh, Vietnamese Buddhist monk: You are holding a cup of coffee when someone comes along and bumps into you or shakes your arm, making you spill your coffee everywhere. Why did you spill the coffee?
“Because someone bumped into me!!!”
Wrong answer. You spilled the coffee because there was coffee in your cup. Had there been tea in the cup, you would have spilled tea. Whatever is inside the cup is what will spill out.
Therefore, when life comes along and shakes you (which WILL happen), whatever is inside you will come out. It’s easy to fake it, until you get rattled.
So we have to ask ourselves, “What’s in my cup?” When life gets tough, what spills over?
Joy, gratitude, peace and humility?
Anger, bitterness, victim mentality and quitting tendencies?
Life provides the cup. YOU choose how to fill it.
A friend from many years ago has reappeared recently. He was an elementary school principal in his career. Never do I remember any problem from his school. That’s the kind of leader he was—kind, compassionate, gently soft spoken. He still has those characteristics. Add to those a very long memory and empathy.
Recently he sent me videos of Dewitt Jones, National Geographic photographer whose words made a big difference in my life. In fact, I wrote about his impact in my first book, which my friend had read and quoted to me. I am deeply touched by this friend’s kind gift and the long memory it suggests—that he would remember Dewitt Jones’ impact on me and send a reminder of it.
I wanted to do something special in return for him and his wife. All I could think of was flowers. (Is that ever a bad choice?) But to make the delivery special, I asked my son, who lives in the area, to deliver them and express my heartfelt appreciation for his kindness. In other words, I sent my precious son to deliver the message.
Then I realized I was experiencing one of the great lessons of Christianity.
Yesterday I spoke with an old friend—someone I heard from recently with a reminder of the work of Dewitt Jones, National Geographic photographer who taught me a great lesson many years ago. My conversation with my friend led me to google Dewitt Jones, and I found this UTUBE video of his Ted Talk: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gD_1Eh6rqf8
The title of the talk is “Celebrate What’s Right with the World.” Yes. Watch it.
As I write, it is the day of the Texas-OU football game—Red River Rivalry, they call it.
In my family, it was reunion. I would travel with my husband and children to Dallas, where on Friday evening we met up with my sister and her family, my dad and stepmom at the French restaurant in the Anatole Hotel. The next day we would all converge onto the Texas State Fairgrounds, where we would grab a hot dog and meet up again with my family at the horse barn. My dad’s two brothers would meet us there, and we would all watch the horse show until game time.
At least once, we watched the game in pouring rain.
The tickets were valuable. But even more valuable was the family gathering for the pure purpose of enjoyment.
The experience was never exactly the same from year to year. What was constant was the love that filled us. Memory is the experience of a precious time.
You write it: What is a precious autumn memory for you?
Two years ago, when my husband died, a friend gave me a peace plant. It has bloomed many times—and it has grown. In fact, it has outgrown its pot.
On this, the second anniversary of his death, I’m moving the plant to a larger pot, a decision that seems symbolic. I’ve done the hard grieving. Now it’s time to give grief the space to dissipate into peace.
You write whatever response you deem fit.
“Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Gandhi
I tried this recently. For my peace of mind, it works. It really does. I hope you’ll try it.
I think of roses as spring flowers
That last through summer.
Yet here, at autumn’s edge,
The bushes in my yard
Yield precious red, pink, orange, and yellow.
Beautiful farewell.
You write it: What are your reflections on the changing of the seasons?
Increasingly, I’m intending to move my whole being, without resistance, into that stream of life in which what I am ready for effortlessly appears. Some people call this phenomenon “flow.” People of faith call it “God’s will.” It doesn’t matter what we call it; what matters is that we experience and recognize it.
As they are happening, these incidences seem like ordinary life. Then, on reflection, we realize that they were carrying us to a destination. This is why reflection and meditation are important—to help us realize the Divine at work in our everyday lives.
You write it: Where are you on this journey?
A mentor died recently at the age of 94. When I was a just-out-of-college teacher, she was my supervisor. She took me “under her wing.” She encouraged me. She spoke good words about me. She taught me, by example, how to be a true professional. She opened doors for me. I was promoted into each position she was being promoted out of.
Then she left our town for a job in the city. We stayed in touch. A few years later, I left for a position in that same big city—but, for the first time, not one she was being promoted out of.
By this time, we were on different paths. I had to make my own way. I could, because what I had learned from her.
Her name was Grace.
You write it: Who paved the way for you?
My understanding is that a large number of Americans feel disenfranchised by rights granted to groups they consider “the other.” Their fear is rooted in the belief that there’s only so much in “the pie.” If “the other” takes a share, they won’t get theirs.
The truth is that quality of life is not a pie; there is enough for everyone. Our collective presence and productivity enriches and sustains all. “A rising tide catches all boats.”
I pray that these fellow Americans are able to transform their fear into faith so that they may fully enjoy the abundant American experience.
What is your prayer for these times?
In high school I fell in love with these words of Henry David Thoreau: “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
Yesterday, as I sat in my healing chair, I could fully see the butterfly bush just beyond the terrace. Covered in purple blooms, the bush was also filled with large yellow butterflies and small birds.
An internet search tells me that butterflies symbolize transformation, freedom, and rebirth.
May it be so.
Over the last several months, my neighbor and friend was gradually leaving, ultimately succumbing to liver cancer.
During this process, I mostly kept my distance, out of respect. Sometimes I would call or text his partner to ask what they needed. Often, she would respond, “We are resting.”
What a concept! “Resting” is an actual activity one may choose!
How deeply ingrained is my belief that I have to be DOING something! Now, as I recover from a broken hip, I’m doing a lot of resting—for the first time in my life, guilt-free!
You write it: How do you feel about resting?
My time in the hospital and rehab, recovering from a broken hip, happily coincided with the Paris Olympics. What an inspiring distraction!
The inspiration, of course, was the phenomenal ability of these athletes, but even more importantly, their genuine good will and celebration of each other’s success.
Yesterday afternoon three remarkable women sat in my living room, chatting about important things that make a difference in people’s lives. In reflection, I celebrate the success each of them brings to every day. I’ve had enough of hatred and derision. Give me affirmation and good will, please. Will you join me?
I’ve had a lot of time lately to rest, observe, and reflect, encased in kindness and encouragement. A friend bringing her encouragement and a book—beautiful flowers from family and neighbors—a nurse saying, “You look good today”—a child with her mother presenting to me a preciously small bouquet of tiny red and white flowers.
I’ve also been watching the Olympics and being inspired by the generous outpouring of love and support I’ve seen among these amazing ahletes from all over the world. Atlhough they compete, they generously celebrate each other’s success.
I do not believe anyone thrives on hatred and derision. Please join me in choosing love and grace.
I broke my hip last Thursday. Since then, I have experienced an amazing outpouring of love and goodwill, increasing every day. I give thanks for good care, for good friends, and for people who listen and respond when Love moves them.
Have you had a similar experience? What happened?
