Sitting in the Lap of Mother Earth

This past week, I read a meditation in  each of my yoga classes by J. Allen Boone that said, “One way to get expanded into a larger awareness of knowing and being is to “sit in the lap of Mother Earth”, look off into scenic loveliness and far distances, and listen for the good counsel from the silence as it gently speaks to each of us in the infinite language of all life.”

Each time I read this, I envisioned the coming weekend when I was going to be doing that very thing. I was heading up to the mountains where I would have Mother Earth all to myself. There’s nothing like sitting in the midst of nature and listening to the good counsel of silence. I’d highly recommend it for anyone who is overwhelmed by the distractions of life – work, finances, family issues, health problems, uncertainty, worry, fear. They all are washed away when you are sitting in Mother Earth’s lap and listening to nothing but the silence.

And here I am. That day has come. I’m sitting here on the dirt ground, looking at nothing but loveliness. Hear nothing but complete silence. My entire body is tingling from the beauty that surrounds me. The stillness. The crisp air. Things are so much clearer when you can get out of the noise of life. The little things don’t seem to matter as much, and the ten thousand voices that were in my head just a few short days ago, prodding me to do the next thing, make the next decision, or prepare for the next meeting are all quiet. I’m open to new possibilities and content with the way things are. I’m grateful for my many blessings and reconnected to my Source. So, don’t put it off for one more day! Take some time for yourself. Sit in the lap of Mother Earth and listen to the good counsel of silence. How will it transform you?

Endings and Beginnings

Just when I’m getting into the groove of summer, it’s back to school time.  While my daughter’s Teen Vogue magazine says that my Capricorn horoscope is "buzzing with excitement for back-to-school planning time”, my general feeling is that I’m not quite ready yet. Sure, I do crave the routine that the school year brings, but I also love the spontaneity of summer . . . sitting out on the front porch drinking my coffee in the morning, visiting with my kids in the middle of the day while I take a break from work, or heading up to our cabin for a long weekend.

I do love the carefree days of summer. I think the other thing that makes this summer coming to an end more difficult, is that I know I’ll have to say goodbye to Kenzie again as she heads back up to school. She’s close by, but always too far away for this Mom. And, then there’s Taylor. He just got his driver’s license, and is already asking about how much freedom he’s going to have now that he can get behind the wheel on his own. Oy! Just another thing for this Mom to worry about . . . and to reflect on.

It’s amazing how our time as parents flies by so quickly. I think it’s because we see our memories captured in the “big” milestones . . the day they were born, the day they started walking, the day they went to Kindergarten, the day they graduated high school. But, I will try and breathe it all in and continue to take each moment as it comes, as a blessing from God that we’ve been able to enjoy everything that comes with being a parent. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t let out a huge, heart-felt sigh or get watery eyes when Kenzie packed up her things and Taylor got behind the wheel to head out on his own. It’s those bittersweet moments that remind us just how blessed we are.

Practicing Joy

In the grocery store line yesterday morning, I was compelled to indulge in a guilty pleasure, and purchased an Oprah “O” magazine. The front cover spoke to me . . . it was “The Quiz Issue”. I’m a sucker for quizzes, so I brought it home and enticed Kenzie to take a couple of the quizzes with me. 
The first one was called, “Where Do you Find Joy?” and had us draw a timeline of a typical day, mapping out how much time we spend doing things, like working, cooking, cleaning, sleeping, etc. The next part of the exercise was to answer questions about things you love to do. You had to fill in the blank and answer questions like, “I could blow an entire rainy afternoon _________”, or “When I was a kid, I used to love ______”. We were to write the first thing that came to our minds, and it was a pretty easy exercise. Don’t we all know what we love to do? 
The next step was to redraw our timeline for a typical day, and sprinkle in some of the answers from those questions. This was very exciting to me because I noticed where there were small gaps in my day when my energy was low or in the evenings when I wasn’t getting anything productive done (the show, Diners, Drive-ins and Dives comes to mind), and used those as places to fill in my “love-to-dos”. Some of them included taking a walk, spending time catching up with girlfriends, and drawing. 
When it was time for Kenzie to add in her “love-to-dos” to her list, she sort of looked at me blankly. I asked her if she was having a hard time fitting her loves into her schedule, and she surprised me by saying that she already does 9 of the 10 things on her list most days!  (When she was a “kid”, she used to love playing with her Barbie dolls . . . doesn’t do that anymore!) 
This got me thinking about how I’ve let my monotonous routine dominate my life. How lovely would it be to take 15 minutes out of my day and sketch the mountains or 30 minutes for a walk around the block . . . just because. What do YOU love to do that you aren’t doing because of a busy schedule, or just because it’s not currently part of your routine? Do one today!

Who Is That Crazy Lady?

I wasn’t quite sure if I’d ever put this life story into print. It’s sooo embarrassing. Will I regret it? Maybe, but here goes. 
It’s all about getting out of our comfort zones. Apparently, I’m in my comfort zone quite often. And, to top it off, I have the false belief that I have the super-ability to remain in that comfort zone, responding to all stresses with peace and love, no matter what happens. I teach yoga, after all! 
Well, all of those preconceived notions about myself were turned upside down a few weeks ago when my daughter Kenzie and I rented a pontoon boat while we were in Gunnison. We do this almost every year, and look forward to having some girl-time, as we float on the lake, catch some rays, and read our books. Sounds like a pretty relaxing time, doesn’t it? Well, it certainly was until we were about an hour into our float-time, and thought we should move up the lake a little further. My husband Tom and son Taylor were on their own fishing boat somewhat nearby, and we thought we should cruise around and see what the fishermen were up to. I turned the key to the boat and . . . nothing. I tried once more. Nothing. 
Michael, the guy who showed us where everything was on the boat before we left the dock, told me that if the boat had trouble starting, to just push the key in as I was turning it, to choke it. I tried that, and nothing. Time to call for help. Fortunately we had cell phone service, so we called the boys to come and fix our problem. Tom got on the boat, looked at the motor, tried to start it, and said that he’d have to tow us in. So we hooked up with a rope and 30 minutes later we were back to the dock. 
Taylor tied the front and back of the boat to the side of the dock and remained on the boat while I stepped off to get someone who worked at the boat house. I got back on the boat to start unloading our things when I noticed that the front tie had come undone! The boat was drifting off and away from the dock, held only by the single back tie. Kenzie was on the dock looking on, as I grabbed the little paddle they keep on the boat, got to my knees, and started paddling to get the front end of the boat back to the dock so we could tie it back down. I soon noticed that the paddling was getting nowhere, and as I looked back, I realized that the second tie had come undone and we were just drifting off, further from the dock! 
This is when something in me snapped. Whether it was fear of getting stuck on the shallow side of the inlet just feet away, drifting off into the lake never to be retrieved again, or just feeling helpless about being up a creek without a paddle – OK, we were on a lake with a paddle, but you get the idea – without the motor, I panicked and began paddling even faster. I was yelling, “who didn’t tie the boat to the dock!?” in Taylor’s direction, and then, "don’t blame your sister” at the top of my lungs as I paddled faster and faster . . . still getting nowhere. 
I looked over to the dock where one of the employees was calmly, and without a word, getting a rope prepared to toss to my son so he could pull us back in. He sort of reminded me of what Jesus must have looked like in the story of the disciples' boat during the raging storm, with everyone panicking except him. Then, I noticed the group of people on the dock, just looking on at this crazy woman on her knees trying to steer a 16-foot pontoon boat with this tiny little paddle. I’m surprised no one was capturing everything on video, but who knows? It could be on YouTube and I don’t even know it! 
We finally got pulled back in, and when I was gathering up my stuff and getting ready to walk back to the boat house, I heard the employee get the motor to turn over. Perfect. Then, a little boy who had been standing on the side of the dock with all the other people yelled over to me, innocently, “Did you get your boat started?” I shot him the evil eye, and turned back towards the boat house. 
To add insult to injury, the employee asked me, “Didn’t Michael show you where the red ‘fast start’ button is?” Um, no. Michael did NOT show me the fast start button, otherwise I probably would have used it! After all that, Kenzie and I were walking back to our car and I said, “Did I look like a crazy lady out there?” She hesitated for a moment, and then said, “You lost it, Mom.” I did, indeed, and it even surprised me. How could the calm, centered, peaceful person I know myself to be just snap like that? 
I think it happens to all of us, and I think it comes from some deep-seated fear – whatever that is for us. I remember when my kids were younger and Taylor ran out into the street to retrieve a ball without looking. I screamed like a crazy lady (there she is again!) and ran out there to scoop him up before the car down the road got any closer. It’s times like these when we lose our sense of security, get out of our comfort zones, and snap. 
I’m not 100% sure of the lesson in all of this, except for the fact that I want to be more like the guy on the dock throwing the rope, and don’t want to be the crazy lady paddling frantically. I also want to know where ALL of the red “fast start” buttons are in my life. Maybe we just need to remember that in all of our stressful, out-of-control, panicky times, there is Someone out there with a rope, and the fast start button is there if you just look.  

The Tree

I was laying in bed this morning thinking about writing. I’ve been thinking about writing a lot, but haven’t done much of it at all, for myself anyway. Most of my writing as of late has been for business, and while I love this type of work, it has certainly distracted me from the view out my own window. Literally. My eyes are glued to my computer screen, cranking out work, and I’ve neglected spending time with my own writing. About the important stuff. Even when I’ve sat down at my computer to attempt writing my blog, my fingers haven’t moved very quickly across the keyboard and I find myself going on to other things. 


As I got my coffee this morning, and made my way towards my Bible, I was praying for a nugget of resonance to appear on the page I opened up to today. I wanted to connect with the passage I was on in some way, so that I’d know it was time to write again. I wanted my fingers to start tingling. I’ve been slowly stepping through a devotional Bible for the last 10 months, and I’m currently on the Book of John. Throughout various sections of this Bible are reflections on certain passages, and the reflection of the passage I read today (John 4: 1-26) referenced Psalm 1:3 which says, “He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.” Perfect. Of course. 


It got me thinking back to a conversation I had a few days earlier with a good friend of mine. We were talking about how we “Type-A” personalities have a hard time sitting still and being patient. We always want to be doing, doing, doing. We want to be making things happen, taking steps towards a goal, making progress towards something. She said that she received good advice from another friend who reminded her that sometimes we just need to be still. We need to be patient and accept this stillness in our lives so that we can be ready for whatever the next step might be for us. 


It’s like that psalm. We are trees, planted by a flowing, lovely, thirst-quenching stream. We yield our fruit (accomplish our goals, see our dreams come to fruition, realize success) . . . in season. We don’t wither when we’re not in season. We’re just called to be still, patient, faithful, and ready to bloom when the time is right. As difficult as it might be to be a tree, still and patient, it can be something beautiful and fulfilling as well. To be in the present moment, patient yet hopeful, that our hearts are being prepared to yield amazing fruit, and prosper at everything we do . . . . now, that’s worth waiting for!  

What is Your Yardstick?

Many of my friends’ kids are graduating high school this month, and some of them graduated college. As I reflect back on my daughter’s high school graduation just last year, and my son’s approaching graduation in a couple of years, I was drawn to an interesting link that was highlighted in the Harvard Business Review. The link was blue, boldfaced, and underlined:  “Create a Life with Purpose” and naturally, I had to click on it. It took me to an article entitled, “How Will You Measure Your Life?” written by Harvard Professor Clayton Christensen.  He teaches a management theory class, and spends the semester taking students through models and theories that “help students think about the various dimensions of a general manager’s job in stimulating innovation and growth.” He uses this same model as a lens for our own lives, and asks the students the following questions to help them create a yard stick for measuring theirs.

The first question is: How can I be sure that I’ll be happy in my career? Christensen references Frederick Herzberg who said that “the powerful motivator in our lives isn’t money; it’s the opportunity to learn, grow in responsibilities, contribute to others, and be recognized for achievements.” The yardstick becomes:  How can we help others learn, grow, and recognize them for their achievements?

The second question is:  How can I be sure that my relationships with my spouse and my family become an enduring source of happiness? That’s a big one. Especially since we don’t really give it that much thought. We fall in love, get married, build careers, have children, and do our best along the way. Christensen asserted that when we have a strategy for our lives, in terms of keeping our purpose front and center at all times, we are better equipped to choose how we spend our time, energy, and talents in each of these endeavors. He also talks about “creating a culture” in your family where, from a very young age, children instinctively are respectful towards one another, obey their parents, and make good choices. These things don’t magically materialize. We parents must build that culture (give them roots) and then send them on their way (give them wings) when they leave our nests. The yardstick is: What is our ultimate purpose (for ourselves and for our family), and how are we living it daily?

The third, and final question, “how do I stay out of jail” seems humorous and out of place at first glance, but we know all too often that people get themselves on paths of self-destruction that can spin out of control quickly. To answer this question for ourselves, Christensen says that we must live lives of integrity, and that involves something called “the marginal cost doctrine”. He says it’s easier to hold to our principles 100% of the time than it is to hold them 98% of the time. Alternatively, when we employ the “just this once” mode of thinking, we marginalize ourselves and our lives because “just this once” is rarely just this once. The yardstick is: Define what you stand for, and then, stick to it.

The final takeaway in his article (which has recently evolved into a book by the same title), Christensen says, “the metric by which God will assess my life isn’t dollars, but the individual people whose lives I’ve touched.” If we use those words as our yardstick, our lives will be successful beyond imagination.

The Knock

Desmond Tutu, Photo by Jesse Tinsley

This past weekend, we had the privilege of traveling as a family to Spokane, Washington, to watch our niece, Erin, graduate from Gonzaga University. The graduation was held on Sunday, Mother’s Day, and the keynote speaker was Archbishop Desmond Tutu. It was an honor to hear Tutu speak, especially since he has been retired for years and hasn’t accepted any speaking engagement requests. He more than made up for his short stature through his vibrant, youth-like personality, and this 80-year-old South African activist and Nobel Peace Prize laureate mesmerized the packed Spokane Arena in a way that made my heart feel like it was going to burst out of my chest.  

He delivered his talk without notes of any kind, and started off by acknowledging the over 11,000 students, parents, and faculty present. Then, the good stuff. Even though he was addressing the graduates of Gonzaga, class of 2012, I felt as if he were talking to each one of us, individually. He spoke of God. He spoke of Jesus. He spoke of Mary’s answer to God’s request, in the form of a knock-knock verse in his soft, melodious voice. “Knock knock. Who’s there? Arch Angel . Arch Angel Who?” Tutu then described the utter shock and disbelief Mary must have felt upon hearing the news that the angel brought her, and how she accepted her destiny as the handmaiden of the Lord. “Each one of us is indispensible,” Tutu whispered.  He said that God knew us before we were formed in the womb, and to each of us he has given a special task on earth to perform. “That means you, you, you, you, you, and you,” he said as he pointed to various people in the crowd. ”You are indispensible.” 

He shifted gears and began speaking of unity. Unity of all, no matter our differences. Unity because God created all. We are all part of God’s family. “Black, white, and yellow. All,” he said with outstretched arms.”Male and female. All. Gay, lesbian, and the so-call straight. All. All. All. All. All. All,” he proclaimed to resounding cheers, as he encircled his arms as if to bring us all together. 

Then, when I thought my heart couldn’t swell up into my throat any more, he said something that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. I don’t know if it was because of the intensity in his face, the quiet tone of his voice, or God’s light that surrounded his every word and expression. He said that it is only through human intervention that God can do anything in the world. God doesn’t “rain hamburgers from the sky.” We must feed the hungry. We must heal the sick. We must be the sounding board for the person who is going through a difficult time. You could hear a pin drop in the enormous stadium when he said slowly, and in a very quiet voice, “And God says, ‘Help Me. Help Me. Help Me. Help Me.’” We are His hands and feet. We are the ones who must take action. We are indispensible because we have a task that we were given, unique unto ourselves. One we are called to fulfill. How will we answer the Knock?