So many life lessons

Some years ago a friend gave me a lovely inspirational book that combines original art with the selected prayers of several writers and poets. The book, Painted Prayers by Jody Uttal, inspires me and always makes me think.

Here's a selection I read yesterday that was written by Rumi, the 13th century Persian Sunni Muslim poet, theologian and Sufi mystic. It speaks to our being open to whatever enters our lives hour by hour or day by day—because everything can be a teacher. This is called "The Guest House":

"This being human is a guest house.
Every morning, a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
Who violently sweep your house
Empty of its furniture,
Still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
For some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
Meet them at the door laughing,
And invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
Because each has been sent
As a guide from beyond."

There really is nothing more I need to say. Re-read it if you wish and simply reflect on Rumi's rich words. Then stay open to each emotion and experience to see what life lessons emerge.

No more shame or silence

Actor Michael J. Fox has lived with Parkinson's disease for more than two decades already. Recently AARP The Magazine featured an article about how he's thriving as he lives with the disease.

Fox himself gave six rules for surviving adversity. One especially struck me:

"Don't remain silent or ashamed about illness. Once Fox went public with his condition, he says, 'it was empowering to have people understand what I was going through—I immediately felt better.'"

Empowering! Yes! Sometimes our tendency is to keep such things to ourselves or tell only those in our most immediate circle. But the more Fox shared with others, the more support and love he got. The stronger he felt, and the more agency and personal power he took back. And the more it encouraged others to share their illnesses or woes and find support as well. So much is to be gained by openness.

When it comes to removing the stigma of some diseases—and particularly of mental illness—this is especially true. Until we bring them out into the light of day, they'll live in the darkness of secrecy and shame. No one wins when that happens.

Open mind, open heart

Unity. Compromise. Dialogue. These are such important words, but something in the air these past months seems to work against them.

Last night I heard an interesting interview by Judy Woodruff on the PBS News Hour as she talked with Governor John Kasich about his new book, Two Paths: America Divided or United. The entire interview was fascinating. But what really struck me was when Kasich said that he recommended that each of us take 10 minutes a day to read something with which we do not agree.

Wow, that's a tall order. Most of us tend to read things with which we agree—even if not with everything in the book, magazine or newspaper article, at least with the general tone or thrust. And we do know that Kasich is right and that we should expose ourselves to ideas that might be foreign to us or to which we're diametrically opposed.

Now, after an extremely contentious election cycle, it would be a good time to heed his suggestion. I have several friends and family who voted for a different person than I did, and I have tried to have open conversations with them about what they were hoping for and what they're seeing. But I confess I still continue to read things with which I'm more likely to agree.

Time for a change. It's good to be open. Listening is always good. And exposing myself to other thinking can only broaden my thinking and idea pool, right? An open mind can lead to an open heart. Sounds good to me!

'Ripe for transformation'

As you can tell from my website, I'm really big on transformation. There are so many pivotal moments in our lives that make us ready for transformation—real turning points.

So when I read in Mark Nepo's Seven Thousand Ways to Listen: Staying Close to What Is Sacred these words, I took notice: "... once we admit that we're not sure where life is taking us, then we are ripe for transformation. Then we are shapeable. When losing our way, we frequently retreat and withhold or take what we think is a safer path. This often complicates our confusion. An old woodsman told me that the reason most people get lost is because they don't go far enough. They doubt where they are and change direction too soon. Somehow we are called to lean forward by what little light we are given."

Have you ever felt somewhat lost or confused about where your life is going—or where it should go? I suspect we have all had some questions at some point in our life journey. The important thing is to just stay open. Look for clues. Listen to that voice inside—and to trusted friends and loved ones. Follow the light.

Stay open. And let yourself be ready for transformation, ready for direction, ready even for surprises! Who knows what's possible when you let yourself be OK with confusion and that feeling of being temporarily lost?

Open & closed doors

So often the quotes that are oft-repeated and familiar to us are those made by famous people. But we know that many quite ordinary people pass on words of wisdom every day. Perhaps each of us recalls wisdom passed along to us from a parent, grandparent or other loved one.

I don't know how it is that this quote got passed along outside her family circles, but a quite ordinary woman, Flora Permelia Whittemore, who died in 1993 in Idaho, said these words that are so relevant for us all: "The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live."

My beloved sister and I often talk about the idea of open doors. How can we open doors for others? How can we watch for open doors that we may wish to walk through? In the same vein, the doors we close are important, too—as are the doors we close on others. Those open and closed doors make such a difference in our lives and the lives of those we affect. Truly, they do "decide the lives we live."

What doors have you opened lately? Which ones have you closed? Have you by your words or actions opened or closed doors to or for others? A raised awareness of such doors can make a huge difference in the lives we live. Start noticing today. It's a good way to start a new year.

Open mind—open heart

"Light is in both the broken bottle and the diamond, and music is in both the flowing violin and the water dripping from the drainage pipe," says inspirational writer Mark Nepo.

That is so true. Good things can come in several different packages. So can bad things. It behooves us, then, to stop making judgments about everything. "This is good." "This is bad." "This is right." "This is wrong."

Things aren't often quite so clear cut. We simply need to remain open to possibilities. Important lessons can come to us from situations we consider negative or harmful. And they can come from some of life's most beautiful and precious experiences.

What might happen if we could drop our judgments and simply keep open minds and open hearts? How much more might we see and learn?

Broken hearts open to love

Yesterday I wrote about Parker J. Palmer's idea of the "tragic gap"—the gap between the way things are and how we know they could be. I mentioned the tension between reality and possibility, too.

In his book A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward An Undivided Life, Palmer says that people can "let the tension between reality and possibility break their collective heart open to justice, truth, and love."

I like that idea of hearts breaking open—open to learning and loving. When our hearts are open, so much more can get in.

Palmer tells about an old Hasidic tale that explains that: "The pupil comes to the rebbe and asks, 'Why does Torah tell us to "place these words upon your hearts"? Why does it not tell us to place these holy words in our hearts?' The rebbe answers, 'It is because as we are, our hearts are closed, and we cannot place the holy words in our hearts. So we place them on top of our hearts. And there they stay until, one day, the heart breaks, and the words fall in.'"

That needs no explanation. Enough said!

A stance of curiosity and openness

Have you noticed that at this stage of your life, you have more questions than answers? And are you learning to be okay about that? Do you keep a list of your questions—or at least some of them?

One of the 38 women who wrote in the book I mentioned earlier this week, Women Confronting Retirement: A Nontraditional Guide, Carole Ganim, put it this way:

"I have examined my life and looked at its next stage and made plans to participate actively in its evolution. The future is alluring and the possibilities for that future are multiple. I have always wanted to know all the answers, especially the answers to the big questions: Is there a God? What is the meaning of life? What is goodness? What is truth? Who are we? Why are we here? I know I will never have the satisfaction of getting answers, but I am still excited about the questions and I still want to find ways to look for answers. I have enthusiasm for what comes next and I can't wait to see what it is. I was once asked to write my own epitaph in a group exercise. I wrote: She kept looking."

Are you still looking? Do you still have a strong sense of curiosity? Do you feel you're still open and searching?

Vulnerability and weakness

For some reason I grew up thinking that vulnerability is weakness. I know now that it's not, and I'm working hard to change that. I don't have to know everything. I don't have to be tough and strong all the time. I can admit I don't know something. But, oh, it's so difficult when that old script about weakness comes roaring forth again!

So when I read in Brené Brown's book Daring Greatly that, in fact, we're more at risk of being hurt when we are not vulnerable, I sit up and listen.

She says that the word vulnerable is derived from the Latin word vulnerare, which means "to wound" and also "capable of being wounded." Further, she says that Merriam-Webster defines weakness as "the inability to withstand attack or wounding." So she concludes "...weakness often stems from a lack of vulnerability—when we don't acknowledge how and where we're tender, we're more at risk of being hurt."

I admire people who are open and vulnerable. It's one of the things I so love about Brown's books. She talks openly about the things that hook her and how she reacts badly at times to perceived threats. She's open about her failures. I admire that. But it's tough for me to do. And she says that's typical—we all love seeing truth and openness in others but we don't want them to see it in us.

Ah, more work to do, Sonia. There's always something more. But that's what keeps life interesting to a lifelong learner such as me. How about you?

Choose to be centered

Much is said and written these days about the importance of staying centered and grounded. And I do agree, it is important. It is so easy to get off-center and off-kilter because of the crazy schedules and lifestyles most of us keep. It's easy, too, to let the behavior of others affect how centered we remain. That's when we need to remind ourselves that we can make a choice to not let others' behavior change how we feel or how we act.

There are many ways to get centered: meditation, prayer, yoga, walks in nature, or whatever helps you clear your head and rid your body of toxins that may have settled inside because of angry drivers or an abusive boss.

The book I mentioned the other day, The Magic of Conflict by Thomas F. Crum, has some important things to say about the choice to be centered. It says, "Being centered: allows you to be more authentic, sensitive, and open; produces emotional and physical stability; has a positive effect on relationships and the surrounding environment; has great impact in developing trust; brings you to a point of clarity, the point of power; and is always your choice, at any time."

I think we could add many more benefits, too. But that's surely a good start—and some good reasons to develop and maintain those practices that center us. Let's do it!

Ride the waves

Recently my healing touch practitioner reminded me to simply ride the waves of life—the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, the pleasure and the pain. Just stay open to it all. Don't get all bound up in one feeling or another. Don't let one situation consume you. Ride the waves.

What a great image that provides. And it's always a good reminder. For everything in life can contain life lessons for us. We never know what a given situation might teach us. Honestly, I have learned more from those difficult, challenging and painful situations than from the joyful ones. It's helpful to remember that when I face yet another one—don't clench up, Sonia. Don't get stuck in this one.

Poet Rainer Maria Rilke put it this way:
"Let everything happen to you
Beauty and terror
Just keep going
No feeling is final."

Indeed. No situation is the last word—not until death claims us, that is. And no feeling is final. Ah, here comes another wave. Just relax into it.

Hearts broken open

Author and educator Parker Palmer said in a pamphlet on "The Politics of the Brokenhearted," "The holiest thing we have to offer the world is a broken-open heart, emptied of fear and vengeance, filled with forgiveness and a willingness to take the risks of love."

There's a difference between a broken heart and a broken-open heart, although a broken-open heart sometimes occurs because of a broken heart. Broken open implies a change from a heart that was closed to one that's open. And really, doesn't the quote say it all? A closed heart is often that way because of fear. An open one is filled with love, compassion and forgiveness. And an open one is willing to take risks for love. 

And the world so desperately needs more open hearts. It always has. But perhaps never more than now. And it needs hearts that are emptied of vengeance and hate—hearts that take risks for love.

To have a heart broken open, we need to be vulnerable. We need to let situations and other people touch us—and we need to open ourselves up to others, to listen to them, to try understand their reality. What a difference that would make in the world. And in our lives.

I'd love to hear what you think about what Palmer said.

Beginner's mind

Educator and writer Parker Palmer encourages us when we're stuck to be a beginner—to "begin again with beginner's mind and with hope." Ah, yes, with hope.

As Zen teacher Shunryu Suzuki said, "In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, in the expert's mind there are few." That is also good to remember. Perhaps we shouldn't aspire to be experts then, should we?

Or as poet Wendell Berry once wrote to a friend, "I greet you at at the beginning, for we are either beginning or we are dead."

My takeaway from these quotes is that it's important to remain open. A beginner is open, open to possibilities, open to learning, open to making mistakes and failing—just open. Experts can be closed off, thinking they've reached the peak.

If you're in a stagnant place right now, in a rut or just feeling unfocused, try beginner's mind. Simply try to be open, let go of all the knowledge you may have accumulated and approach life with curiosity. See what unfolds. You might be surprised. Oh, and don't forget the hope!

6 tips for respectful communication

One of the important parts of our life journey is our communication—the way we talk with and listen to others. Some days I worry that the art of conversation has been lost. I worry that civil discourse has become a thing of the past, too. Some conversations are more monologue than dialogue. And some discussions close rather than open doors. Some are positively hurtful and offensive—no one listening to anyone else.

Have you had conversations that are totally one-sided? Me, too. I've also had conversations in which the other person has so forcefully put an opinion out there (as though it were absolute truth) that the door to further discussion is slammed shut. What might we do to avoid these situations? Here are a few tips (certainly not an exhaustive list):

1) Look at the other person with compassion and openness. Ask yourself if this is your one chance to be with that person, what would you like to know? Ask questions. Wait for answers.
2) Use "I messages" when you state opinions and feelings, making clear that it's simply what you think, not necessarily the only and one true answer. Own what you say. Using "I messages" doesn't mean you talk about yourself the entire time, either!
3) Learn the art of what writer Jan Phillips calls "conversation wrangling." If a conversation turns negative or difficult, gently and without judgment try to wrangle or steer the discussion into a more positive and open one.
4) Suspend judgment. Judging others and letting them know how wrong they are really says something negative about us rather than about the other.
5) Always, always remember an important ratio: One mouth, two ears.
6) Your mother was right: If you can't say something nice, don't say anything. Keep conversations civil. That doesn't mean avoiding hot topics. It means addressing them in a civil and respectful manner.

What would you add to this list?

Open up to others

I had planned to write on a different topic for today. But then in yesterday's inbox I discovered a beautiful message from Jennifer Louden (whose books and writings I've enjoyed for years).

In her message she spoke about not turning to despair after last week's horrific violence because she "saw people everywhere responding to the horror in their own noble way." She saw love, compassion and caring. She saw people, as she says, "with eyes wide open. Daring to see." And I thought of how true that is. We've seen it in the U.S., too, when horrible things happen: It brings out the best in many people—and they reach out to one another with compassion and caring.

Here's what she said that I found so beautiful: "You can answer to the call to be a citizen of the world. You can refuse this call—there are plenty of days I want to—but the cost of refusing is high. It means closing your heart to the wounded parts of humanity and thus the wounded parts of yourself—and so much breaks down when we do this. It means buying a story of separation. It means perhaps believing you have no voice and no ability to shape the world into a more fair and bright place, that your efforts don't matter. I don't believe that. I will never believe that."

She said that connecting with others can fuel real change. Yes, I believe that, too. And there's really nothing I can add to her wonderful words.

Open to the new

I just learned of yet another former colleague who lost her job. This may even be the third time for her. There's a lot of that going on these days, isn't there?

Perhaps you've been through that. I have. It's pretty devastating when it happens, especially if you had absolutely no idea it was coming. However, often there are opportunities embedded in this crisis, too.

Once they've experienced the grief and fear of job loss, many people—perhaps most—say that reinventing oneself is really an amazing opportunity. You learn a lot about yourself, for one thing. And you have a chance to think about what other talents and gifts you may have that weren't getting used before. You may have something you've long wanted to try. Or you may not—but even so, may fall into a job that really suits you even better. Often, people say that the new is so much better than what they had before but they would never have imagined that at the time.

What I learned through my experience was to just be open—open to letting go of the old, open to trying new things, open to replacing old dreams with new ones, open to the adventure of it all. I don't mean to diminish the financial fears that often accompany such an experience; I certainly faced that myself. But when I was in my former job, I would not have imagined the wonderful life I now have. I hope that will be true for you if you're experiencing job loss right now.

Open up to surprising gifts

Whether you are a praying person or someone who puts intentions out to the universe, you no doubt have had the experience of something very different landing on your doorstep as the answer. It's really important to be open to such surprises. Often things happen to us that have the desired result but look nothing like what we had expected.

I've had that happen recently. And it's such a reminder to me to remain open—open to surprises, open to gifts in unexpected packages, open to gifts even in circumstances I didn't want.

That's easier said than done, however, isn't it? It's pretty normal and human to have expectations that get fairly specific. But I find that those often lead to some huge disappointments. When I can stay open to "receive the gift I'm given rather than the one I'd hoped to have," as author Paula D'Arcy puts it, I'm so much better off. I see the larger picture. I can find gifts embedded even in difficult situations. And sometimes, just maybe, what I receive is even better for me than what I'd wanted in the first place.

It's the questions

Finding answers used to be so important for me. You, too? Now I love the questions ... and often the answers aren't even the important part. It's what I learn along the way when I play with the questions that provides lots of wisdom. And when I say, "I don't know," others share their life wisdom.

I like what one of my favorite writers says about it, too. Anne Lamott says, "The theologian Paul Tillich famously said that the opposite of faith is not doubt but certainty. And I can vouch for that—I think. Getting older has given me more comfort in not knowing the answers. I throw up my hands more often now; I shake my head in wonder at how inscrutable life is."

As a high achiever from childhood, this is still a challenge for me. But I do embrace the idea and slowly, slowly, I'm learning to say "I don't know" to questions. It's a good practice. And there's so much to learn from doing that. I'm trying to stay in a stance of openness.

So bring on the questions. Yes, even the large life questions....

Fear as an open door

Last Friday we talked about fears around the topic of dying, living and aging—with the book and movie "Still Alice" as the backdrop.

Have you ever noticed how fear can really be a doorway for you? An open door that can lead to deeper knowledge about yourself, about life, about others. It can lead you to discover strengths and talents you didn't know you had. It can be liberating and empowering once you walk through that doorway.

I remember the fears I felt several decades ago when my former husband and I returned after living for five years in Papua New Guinea. He told me that we would be expected to go around to congregations to speak about our experiences as missionaries. I was terrified. I had long feared public speaking, to the point where I dropped my speech class in college after just a couple sessions. But guess what—I did, in fact, accept invitations to speak. And I did just fine. It was a matter of feeling the fear and going ahead anyway. Through it all I learned that I really can speak to a group. I've done it many times since. Who knew?

Is there some fear you feel that could provide an open door for you? If you'd like to discuss it, I invite you to contact me for a complimentary, no-obligation strategy session.

Nature's lessons

Granted, many trees (at least where I live) no longer have many of their leaves. Lots of those leaves provide a blanket for the grass instead. But those that remain on trees are more muted shades of orange and gold now—more rust than orange, more shades of brown than gold. To me, however, they're still lovely.

I used to enjoy only the brightest shades of fall color. And I really still do enjoy fall colors at their peak. I am filled with wonder and delight at those bright colors, especially when the sunlight washes over them until they almost glow.

But now I enjoy the colors of late autumn, too. Is it because I am in life's autumn myself, I wonder? It might be. At last, I am able to appreciate each of life's stages and recognize that there's a beauty in each stage. I love the innocence and curiosity of the very young. I enjoy the confidence and brashness of teens and young adults. I'm enthralled by the energy and seeking of those just new to careers, parenting and mortgage acquisition. I am thrilled by the integration of values and experience I see in mature adults. And I soak up the wisdom and non-attachment of those who have lived many more years than I. Now I value and appreciate it all. I see the beauty in each stage. Perhaps that's why I can enjoy those stages in nature as well.

I want to be ever more open to what lessons I can learn in the stage I'm now experiencing—to what life brings to me now. Perhaps nature is one way I can better enter into the openness and possibilities being offered to me. Do you experience lessons through nature, too?