Alan Fadling's Blog, page 15

Retreat Rhythms: Balancing Structure and Surrender in Solitude

Blog by Alan Fadling

This is the third and final post in my New Camaldoli Retreat series.

 

If you are thinking about trying on or continuing a practice of spiritual retreat, what kind of place is a good one?

 

Where Do You Go on Retreat?

Get away to a place where you can find some solitude and silence. In my particular stream of Christianity, what we often call retreat centers are actually conference centers. They are designed for large groups of people to gather and listen to talks from experts or entertainers. And while that can be a joyful thing, it can be hard to get alone or find quiet in those settings.

 

I’ve often made use of Catholic retreat centers and monasteries like New Camaldoli. Going on retreat at a location designed specifically for that purpose makes it easier to follow through with your plan. Search the internet for monasteries and retreat centers in your area or in a part of the country you’ve always wanted to visit.

 

Once you’ve found a place…

 

What Do You Do on Retreat?

In an extended retreat, I seek to find a balance between

 

structure and freedom
activity and receptivity
engagement and disengagement
work and rest

 

I’m not measuring my retreat in terms of productivity, though cultivating a rhythm of retreat has been among the most fruitful practices for me over the last thirty years.

 

One way to discern these rhythms is to pay attention to the desires that arise. As a leader, sometimes there is little to no space between an impulse that arises and an action I take. On retreat, I have time and space to notice the desires that arise, discern whether or not they move me in good directions, and then decide how I want to act on them or resist them.

 

Perhaps retreat is a place where Augustine’s counsel best comes into play: “Love God and do whatever you please: for the soul trained in love to God will do nothing to offend the One who is Beloved.”

 

On extended retreat we have space to distinguish shallow and empty impulses from deep, God-given desires. We can resist the former and lean into the latter. What does the “me” created in the image of Christ want to do with these moments of retreat? Do I know? Can I be patient to discern the answer to such a question? Again, extended retreat allows us time and space to listen for that insight.

 

As I’ve mentioned already, on a multiple-day retreat it’s important not to program every minute. This is a mistake I’ve sometimes made. In times of extended retreat, we can make space for unstructured receptivity to God. This involves practicing God’s presence in simplicity. We listen for God. We watch for God. We seek to notice the creativity and care of God that surrounds us. We let God shepherd us on our retreat.

 

What Benefits Do I Gain from Retreat?

It has been good for me to practice retreat as a regular rhythm rather than an occasional, desperate escape. The Gospel of Luke reminds us that “Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed” (5:16). It’s the word “often” that always grabs me there. There was a regularity to this rhythm in Jesus’s way of life.

 

That regularity was focused on prayer as Jesus stepped away from what usually filled his days and made time and space to be in communion with his Father in heaven. He rested in the presence of his Father. He listened for the voice of his Father. He watched for the work of his Father.

 

Jesus spoke to the Father about what was on his mind and heart, what concerned him, what he hoped for. He was often alone in his Father’s presence. And I believe this was the way in which he discerned what the Father was giving him to do and to say. Retreat has been such a training ground for me.

 

If you haven’t been in the habit of making personal retreats, I don’t recommend starting with an eight-day version. You aren’t seeking to do something spiritually heroic, which can be more about ego than about seeking God. Begin by setting aside an hour or two, maybe half a day. Decide on a length of time that feels like a stretch without feeling overwhelming.

 

Decide what you’ll say “Yes” to and what you’ll say “No” to. Then offer this retreat as a gift to God. What makes the time good is not your spiritual “performance” or some spiritual “experience” you might (or might not) have. What makes it good is that God is with you and that you are offering your attention to notice God with you.

 

If you aren’t already trying on the practice of spiritual retreat, I hope you’ll take a next step. If you are, I hope you discover the grace of this practice more and more.

 

For Reflection:

If you haven't yet integrated spiritual retreats into your life, what steps could you take to begin? What reservations might you need to overcome?
When considering the activities and rhythms of your retreat, how do you strike a balance between structure and freedom, engagement and disengagement, work and rest?
What benefits have you personally experienced from practicing retreat as a regular rhythm rather than an occasional escape?

 

Following are the links to the first two parts to the series:

Unplugged in Big Sur: Finding God in Silence and Solitude
Creating Space for Grace: The Power of Saying No and Yes on Retreat

UL #303: Unhurried Favorites - The Soul of Desire (Alan w/ Curt Thompson, MD)

 

Over the summer, we are sharing some replays of our podcast we’re calling “Unhurried Favorites.”

Today I'm resharing an interview with Curt Thompson, MD about his book The Soul of Desire. I found so many intersections with what Gem and I have been learning in our journey towards wholeness and vitality in our life in God. In this book, Curt talks about the place of desire in our lives, how desire can sometimes get hijacked, but how desire can be a holy motive and energy that moves us toward the beautiful life of God he has always intended for us. 

 

Curt Thompson is a board-certified psychiatrist,  founder of Being Known, an organization that develops resources for hope and healing at the intersection of neuroscience and Christian spiritual formation, and host of Being Known Podcast. In addition to The Soul of Desire, he is also the author of The Soul of Shame and Anatomy of the Soul.

 

You can connect with Curt on social media on Instagram and Facebook.

Unlocking the Power of Trust

Blog by Gem Fadling

I exhaust myself sometimes. The flurrying thoughts that run through my brain paired with the unhelpful expectations I place on myself and others can really wear me down.

 

I recently caught myself in one of these thought whirlpools, and almost immediately I heard a phrase of scripture in my mind:

 

Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. (Psalm 20:7)

 

This sentence was a knock on the door of my heart, so I went to Psalm 20 to read it in context. I had a feeling the Holy Spirit was trying to help me with my flurry.

 

Psalm 20 

1 May the Lord answer you when you are in distress;
    may the name of the God of Jacob protect you.
2 May he send you help from the sanctuary
    and grant you support from Zion.
3 May he remember all your sacrifices
    and accept your burnt offerings.
4 May he give you the desire of your heart
    and make all your plans succeed.
5 May we shout for joy over your victory
    and lift up our banners in the name of our God.

May the Lord grant all your requests.

6 Now this I know:
    The Lord gives victory to his anointed.
He answers him from his heavenly sanctuary
    with the victorious power of his right hand.
7 Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
    but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
8 They are brought to their knees and fall,
    but we rise up and stand firm.
9 Lord, give victory to the king!
    Answer us when we call!

 

When I first peruse a passage of scripture, I like to notice the verbs. The action words help me to sense God’s presence. In the first four verses, these verbs stand out: answer, help, grant, remember, accept, give, make.

 

Sometimes my heart needs to be reminded of God’s activity so I don’t feel so alone. I don’t need to do an extensive word search for more meaning. I can simply take the verbs at face value and allow them to wash over me. God’s loving action calms me. Reading these words, I could feel myself take a deep breath.

 

But then in verse 7 we come upon the verse that leapt into my mind earlier: Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.

 

I don’t currently own any chariots or horses, but I do tend to trust my own devices and activities (my own horsepower, so to speak) to help me make my way. That is, until I hit a wall of anxiety, exhaustion, or overwhelm. I don’t think I’m alone in this. Does this sound familiar to you as well?

 

The invitation for me was to lay down my trust in that which is other than God and to return my gaze to him. I do, in fact, trust in the name of the Lord my God. So I made the internal pivot and it helped.

 

It’s not always this easy. Sometimes I’ve dug quite a hole for myself, and it takes a bit to make my way back to the surface. But on this particular day I simply needed a holy redirection and an inner shift.

 

I wonder if it might be good to look at verse 7 and replace chariots and horses with some of the ways we might misplace our trust. Let’s try on a few:

 

Some trust in degrees…

Some trust in productivity…

Some trust in relationships…

Some trust in finances…

Some trust in fame…

Some trust in being right…

 

Before we leave ourselves in this trusting-something-else place too long, let’s properly finish these phrases Psalm-style by reminding ourselves:

 

But we trust in the name of the Lord our God.

 

For the regular, everyday types of wavering we do, we can simply pivot back to this reality. Yes, there are likely larger issues of trust that are ongoing in your life, and for that I hope you have the support you need. But sometimes we just need a reminder and a turning of heart and mind.

 

What would be on your own list of relationships, circumstances, and dynamics that cause your trust to waver?

 

For Reflection: 

Make your own list that begins with “Some trust in ______________...” Be honest about the places where you struggle.
Notice which people or circumstances might simply require a pivot back to God in the moment.
If you noticed something deeper and more ingrained, what support might you need to move forward?
Ask God to help you as you make your way.

 

Creating Space for Grace: The Power of Saying No and Yes on Retreat

Blog by Alan Fadling

Today’s blog post continues some thoughts I shared two weeks ago entitled, Unplugged in Big Sur and looks at HOW I plan for retreat.

 

Rather than hoping that I’ll have time for a retreat, I calendar my retreats about a year in advance. If I waited to schedule a retreat until only weeks before, generally my calendar would already be filled.

 

I’ve learned that it’s better to calendar my priorities than to prioritize my calendar. Do you feel the difference? When I prioritize my calendar, I may just be reorganizing all the stuff that has happened to land there, for whatever reason and from whatever source. When I calendar my priorities, I make time and space for the important and valuable opportunities that might not end up on my calendar otherwise. Too many of my priorities don’t end up in my schedule if I am not intentional about them well in advance.

 

I planned nearly a year in advance for my eight-day retreat in Big Sur. Then, as the date drew closer, I was able to put other important engagements elsewhere in my calendar. I wasn’t going to just happen to find a week to get away. And the hermitage is in enough demand that I wouldn’t have found open space there if I had waited to schedule my retreat.

 

As I prepare for a retreat, I find something Jesus said particularly helpful: “Let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes’ and your ‘No’ be ‘No’” (Matt. 5:37 WEB). I ask myself a couple of questions in my planning:

 

What will I say a gracious and firm “No” to during my retreat?
What will I say a hearty and grateful “Yes” to during my retreat?

 

I generally say “No” to internet connectivity during these extended retreats. I let people know I won’t be available in that window. I have someone else keep an eye on things while I’m away. I sometimes say “No” to eating everything I might usually eat. That is to say, I practice some form of fast. I may say “No” to certain kinds of recreational reading or to watching programs on television or streaming services. (None of these were available to me at New Camaldoli anyway.)

 

My “No” is a way of making space for the grace God wants to give me and the “Yes” I want to say to his generosity.

 

I’ve often said “Yes” on retreat to being active daily, taking a walk or engaging in some form of exercise. I’ve said “Yes” to reading a spiritual book that I want to sink into and learn from, or to moments of simple and silent listening. The main “Yes” I offer is my attentiveness to God with me.

 

On day five of my eight-day retreat, I set aside the morning between breakfast and lunch to sit on my hermitage porch alone and quiet with God. For hours, I looked out at the ocean that filled my horizon. I listened for the sounds of creation and the content of my mind and heart. And I began to notice the other creatures who were with me in that moment.

 

I noticed a bunny that had hopped into view. My hermitage was nestled in a rather wild space. The bunny appeared to be looking for some breakfast. As I was still, he stayed put, nibbling at the weeds that grew below me. He seemed to chew forever. Sometimes he sat perfectly still as though trying not to be seen. Maybe it was because he was a monastery bunny, but he was clearly quite good at the practice of retreat.

 

He was comfortable with solitude.
He had no problem being silent.
He was quite still.
The sameness of the situation didn’t seem to bother him.
He was observing a posture of stability. He stayed put.
And simplicity seemed natural for him.

 

I spent about an hour watching that bunny enjoy his breakfast. When do I ever have time or opportunity to do something like that? You might even ask why I would bother doing something like that. But this is the sort of thing artists and creatives do. It’s how they come to see the world with greater clarity so that they can express what they’ve seen through good words, music, images, or artifacts.

 

Maybe you don’t think of yourself as a creative person. Maybe you think that sort of creativity is impractical. But what difference might it make if you had more creativity in your life, in your friendships, in your vocation? What if you had fresh vision for the work God’s given you? Wouldn’t that make a difference?

 

I’ve often said that my best ideas have nearly always come in retreat or out of retreat. The same is true in finding creative solutions to problems I have faced. In retreat, I’ve been able to gain a clearer vision of where I believe God is leading me and of the work I believe God is giving me to do.

 

I’ll share one more post about my retreat in a couple of weeks.

 

For Reflection:

How have you (or might you) prioritize time for spiritual retreat? How might calendaring priorities rather than rearranging the calendar impact your ability to make space for what truly matters to God (and to you)?

UL #302: Unhurried Favorites - I Don't Have Time for This

 

Over the summer, we are sharing some replays of our podcast we’re calling “Unhurried Favorites.” Today I’m talking about time, and whether we have enough of it.  It's a refreshed vision of time…one that doesn’t leave us feeling pressured.

Unplug and Unwind: Why You Need to Prioritize Soul Rest

Blog by Gem Fadling

Right now, Alan and I are in the first week of our July mini-sabbatical. Every year, for one month, we remove ourselves from work and make space to deeply rest our hearts, minds, and bodies. We check no email. We scroll no social media. We don’t “talk shop.”

 

We let the soil of our ministry and work life lie fallow so it has the chance to rest. This fortifies us to continue the work we do. Trees and orchards cannot produce forever if they do not rest and receive a good pruning in the proper season.

 

This year will be slightly different in that we will use half of July for deep work in content development (much like an academic takes a study sabbatical) and the other half for deep rest with friends and family.

 

I wanted to share with you my journal from exactly three years ago. It’s from July 3, 2021, our very first mini-sabbatical. We traveled to Orcas Island in Washington our first week, hoping for some soul rest, and we definitely found it.

 

Here is my journal entry from that day:

 

Pine scent. Surrounded by trees. The loam. Fallen trees decaying. Moss. The sound of water. Nature bath at its best. We paused in a circle of trees and sang the doxology. I cried.

 

I didn't take a photo of that moment, but I know the image of the sun peeking through will be emblazoned in my memory. So much goodness. So many shades of green and brown. Textures both soft and hard. Water cascading over rocks and into streams.

 

No words to describe. Just gratitude.

 

We then drove to the top of Mount Constitution. Staggering views all the way to Canada, Mount Baker, and Mount Rainier.

 

I saw a bird I'd never seen before, the violet green swallow. They flew below us and we could see their bright green backs glistening in the sun. Plus so many dragonflies! And more rich pine scent.

 

Thank you, God, for such beautiful creation! The rest of the day was for rest—napping, reading, and coloring. I'm now sitting at a desk, looking out the window and enjoying the large robins hopping around on the grass below.

 

It sounds idyllic, and it was. The beauty of nature was overwhelming in its abundance.

 

I share this with you because I hope to inspire you to make space on your calendar for connecting with God in ways that are life-giving to you. You may not enjoy the outdoors like I do, but you likely have a mode or a location that is conducive to helping you sense God’s presence.

 

Some of you have a healthy rhythm of life that includes these kinds of replenishing spaces.

 

Remember, you don’t need a whole month to achieve some inner rest. I have found peace by simply sitting in my backyard for an hour. I set up my beach chair and picnic blanket on the grass while the sun beats down on my back. I read or journal, and my heart settles. You don’t have to have days, weeks, or months. You can rescue 30-60 minutes on any given weekend and practice soul rest.

 

Why do Alan and I talk about this so much? Because we believe with all our heart that your inner life with God deeply informs your outer life of relationships and work.

 

We have found that most people are tired in some form. It may show up as physical ailments, racing mind, exhaustion, growing anxiety, uncontrollable distraction, and more.

 

So we beat the drum that reminds us: 

Time is not your boss.
You can make time for what is important.
Make space for life-giving activities.
Solitude and silence can replenish you.
Soul space and physical rest are critical for your ongoing health and maturity.
An unhurried life is possible. (Remember—busy is calendar, hurry is soul.)

 

When we talk about our mini-sabbatical, I know some people think to themselves any number of thoughts: 

Must be nice.
Such a luxury.
I wish I could do that.
I could never make that kind of space in my life.
What a waste of time. You can’t be unproductive for that long.

 

And I hear it. We didn’t make space for an entire month per year until just a few years ago. And it does seem impossible, especially if you are in the child-rearing season or you work for a company that doesn’t allow such things.

 

I’m not here to tell you to do anything that doesn’t work in your current life stage.

 

I do, however, want to ask a few questions: 

How deep is the well you want to draw from?
Do you want to experience the “much fruit that lasts” that Jesus speaks of in John 15?
How expansive do you want to be?
What are you willing to do so that you can be who you want to be?

 

You don’t have to take an entire month away to access this place inside yourself. Remember my backyard time? Any kind of space made to receive from God creates space inside you. And this space becomes a reservoir from which you can draw when you most need it. It is the small, consistent investments you make that pay the most dividends.

 

I will beat this drum for as long as it takes because our culture is screaming at you from all sides: 

Be more productive!
Get going!
You don’t have time for this! Keep moving!
You have to push your way forward!
Here are a multitude of ways to distract yourself. Enjoy them all!
This is all on your shoulders!

 

Our world needs more people who are focused, centered, peaceful, and wise. And it doesn’t matter your temperament. Introverts and extroverts alike can display these qualities. The fruit of the Spirit is graciously given: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23).

 

Reflection 

Sometime in the next two weeks, block off 30-60 minutes in your calendar. Engage something life-giving, something that brings you joy, delight, or rest. Prioritize it the way you would keep a doctor’s appointment.
And if you like how it feels, look into your calendar and block off more space to engage again. Create patterns of refueling in your life.

Unplugged in Big Sur: Finding God in Silence and Solitude

Blog by Alan Fadling

In the summer of 2023, I finally got the opportunity to make a retreat at a place I’ve been wanting to visit for years. I drove up to the New Camaldoli Hermitage in Big Sur, California, for an eight-day silent retreat. I’ve done weeklong retreats before on the East Coast, but never here in California.

 

At the end of August, I made the drive from Orange County up to Big Sur. Several friends who lived in Northern California spoke highly about their experiences at the hermitage. Now I was finally going to make my own visit.

 

I learned that New Camaldoli is part of the larger Camaldolese order, founded a thousand years ago by St. Romuald in Camaldoli, Italy, about 40 miles east of Florence. They sought to combine the gift of communal monasticism and solitary monasticism. New Camaldoli Hermitage has been in Big Sur since the late 1950s.

 

Their life is one of prayer, seeking union with God in the way of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Their monastic life involves solitude and community, silence and interaction, prayer and work, study and recreation. I couldn’t wait to share a week in this kind of place!

 

The location lends itself well to the practice of silent retreat. First, it is a cellular and Wi-Fi desert. No coverage. No internet access. The only way to connect with the outside world is to use one of the two landlines on site. And since the whole community uses those two phones, they are often unavailable even if you want to talk with someone back home. Some may consider this a deterrent, but if you’re seeking a place of solitude, silence, and non-distraction, this is a rare and beautiful benefit.

 

The hermitage has a bluffside view of the ocean that is inspiring. I have always loved the ocean, and getting to enjoy that vista for a whole week was such a gift.

 

Over the years, Big Sur has experienced landslides that have closed Highway 1 for months at a stretch. After a landslide in early 2023, the monastery was inaccessible for months from both the north and the south. Actually, I wasn’t certain it would reopen in time for my August retreat. Thankfully, just before my retreat, the road from the north was reopened to local traffic only, and I was able to make my visit.

 

To reach New Camaldoli, I had to stop at a Caltrans checkpoint and show my reservation confirmation before being cleared to drive a couple miles of highway that had been only partially repaired. I then drove two more miles up the steep, winding driveway that ascends about 1,300 feet to the hermitage. Leaving the monastery wouldn’t be easy, so I was committed to the eight days of retreat I’d planned.

 

Another feature of New Camaldoli is that much of the housing consists of individual and solitary tiny houses spread out from one another on their 900 acres of property. Many monastic retreats I’ve visited have apartment-like housing for guests. But when I was in my hermitage, there wasn’t another house or person within my view. I was able to see only the ocean in front of me.

 

Meals at most monastery retreats are communal, even if eaten in silence. But as guests, we ate in solitude after going up to a small kitchen to get our daily food and bring it back to our hermitages. Solitude is taken very seriously at New Camaldoli.

 

Another gift, like with most monasteries, was the observance of fixed-hour prayer at which guests are welcome. The liturgies are rather simple and drawn from a single-volume prayer book that is used year-round. I found praying the psalms and hearing scripture read in this way to be deeply enriching.

 

The simplicity of these fixed-hour prayers and the flexibility of meals was a great gift. Being on a retreat for a full week gave me opportunities to actually lose track of time. That doesn’t happen often for me, but the anonymous author of The Cloud of Unknowing suggests that “time is made for people, not people for time.” We are not meant to serve time, but time is there to be of service to us. We are not slaves to our calendars, our schedules, our engagements. The idea that time is intended to serve us sinks in deeply on an extended retreat like this.

 

As I was checking in on my first day, I was given the gift of seeing a copy of my first book, An Unhurried Life, on the bookstore shelves. I had heard from a friend a long time back that they’d seen it there, but I was pleasantly surprised that it was still in stock.

 

My retreat in Big Sur was a time and place for prayer. Visiting somewhere that for decades has been a place of prayer is a great gift. There is something about such a place that helps me notice God’s presence more easily. It is what the Celtic Christians called a “thin place.”

 

One of the advantages of such a retreat time and place is the chance to be attentive to the presence of God and to simply acknowledge what is happening in your own heart and soul. There are so many ways to distract ourselves these days. It is a great gift to be in a place and a community where most of those outward distractions simply aren’t possible.

 

I’m a highly structured person. I like arranging my time in great detail. So it won’t surprise you that I often try to do the same with my retreats. There’s nothing wrong with structure, unless it gets in the way of what God might want to do.

 

It took me a couple days of trying to actively micromanage my retreat before I ran out of gas for that and settled into a more receptive posture in the presence of God. Monks speak of “making a retreat,” but I also think it helps to have a posture of “receiving a retreat.”

 

That’s because as a leader I’m so used to making things happen (or imagining that the main things that are happening are of my making alone). But an extended retreat is a chance to tune into what God may be doing, how God may be speaking, where God may be guiding. This sort of practice has grown my ability to discern God in the middle of my busy work life back at home.

 

In a chapter of my book A Non-Anxious Life titled “Rhythms of Peace,” I talk about six postures that help us engage well in spiritual retreat: solitude, silence, stillness, sameness, stability, and simplicity.

 

These six postures are holy “nos” that I practice in order to offer God a more wholehearted “yes” on retreat. They open the way for me to notice God’s company, God’s voice, God’s movement, God’s creativity, God’s presence, and God’s richness.

 

This awareness deepens for me over the course of a retreat. And I bring that back with me to my life, my relationships, and my work. It’s hard for me to overestimate the value of this retreat practice in my life through the years.

 

I’ll share more about my experience at New Camaldoli in a couple of future posts.

 

For Reflection:

What is your current experience of spiritual retreat? Can you envision the difference between making a retreat happen and receiving the gift of a retreat?
When, if ever, have you lost track of time like I did on this retreat? How does the idea of time as a servant rather than as a master align with your experience?

UL #301: Overcoming Hurry Sickness: The Virus of Overwork (Alan)

 

In my book, An Unhurried Life, I wrote a chapter titled “Productivity: Unhurried Isn’t Lazy,” in part, to speak to our tendency to assume that productivity is always about doing more and more and more. But what if true productivity is, at least in part, about doing qualitatively better work, even if it seems less busy than before? 

 

There is a cultural bias for always staying busy. I’m sharing the last of three episodes about sources of hurry in our lives. In the first two, I talked about how anxiety and insecurity are significant contributors, motors, or even viruses for hurry in our lives. 

 

Today, I’ll talk about overwork as a third virus of hurry that is epidemic in our current context. 

From Rush to Rest: Navigating Life's Terrain with an Unhurried Heart

Blog by Gem Fadling

I love watching travelogues and cooking shows, so if there’s a show that combines the two, I’m hooked. If you are familiar with the names Phil Rosenthal, Guy Fieri, and Andrew Zimmern, then you know what I’m talking about.

 

Traveling, eating tasty food, and meeting intriguing people is a combination my heart longs for. I’ve often mentioned to Alan that if I could have a job in an alternate universe, I would be the host of Somebody Feed Phil (and I guess Phil would just have to find his own new job).

 

Awhile back I stumbled upon a YouTube channel hosted by a young woman named Eva zu Beck. Eva travels, along with her dog, in an overlander. She vlogs about her nomadic lifestyle and shares the beauty of the terrain as well as the people she meets. She also reveals her own personal journey and the process of traveling alone. If you have an inner traveler, you might want to check out her channel.

 

In one video Eva shared a journal excerpt from her grandfather who had also been a world traveler. I was struck by his words and felt they rang out with the unhurried theme. Here’s what he wrote as he processed the miles he had traversed:

 

I noticed something changing in me. I’ve lost all my rush. The miles no longer impress me. Whether there’s one hundred, two hundred or six hundred of them, they leave me indifferent because I must cross that distance anyway.

 

So I’m not afraid of distances anymore. And the same applies to time. Whether I’m due to be on the road for five hours or seventeen—what’s the difference? Either way, I must reach my destination.

 

I don’t get anxious about the slow, tortoise-like pace. I simply get into my vehicle and I ride so far and for so long, in absolute peace, until I finally reach the destination that I have set for myself.

 

I also don’t let myself get bothered by the discomforts, such as a hard seat, heat, dust, the lack of water. All of this, in its own way, is beautiful and wonderful.

 

Whoever cannot adapt to this kind of life; in fact, whoever cannot come to love this kind of life, cannot be a true traveler.

 

To be a true traveler requires strength of character. (You can read Eva’s post HERE.)

 

These words brought to mind the title of Eugene Peterson’s book A Long Obedience in the Same Direction. I’ve chosen a path, focus, vision, and direction, and I’m in the for the long haul. And I believe you are too. Over my 60 years of life, God has certainly sustained me through all that life has thrown at me.

 

Eva’s grandfather stumbled upon some truly unhurried dynamics:

 

The distance doesn’t matter. I must cross the terrain anyway, so it’s okay to ease in and let go.
A slow pace need not lead to anxiety. I can choose peace and simply move forward.
Maybe it’s possible to find beauty in discomfort. (Think of inner desert, wilderness, or fog-like seasons of life.)
Traveling a long distance requires strength of character.

 

During last July’s one-month mini-sabbatical, my heart did, in fact, have a chance to slow inside. We engaged a multiday road trip, and I had enough space to let go of the next day and to take things as they came. It’s a great feeling to not feel trapped by the clock or calendar.

 

I wondered if it was possible to bring that spirit back into my work. What would it look like to live each day on its own terms, without dreading what was to come? Yes, there was a plan on our trip, but I didn’t have to strive or reach for what was next. I was in a different mode.

 

Why is it so hard for me to engage that relaxed mode in my regular life?

 

On vacation I lived each day as it came. I went to bed each night feeling thankful for the day I was in. The next day I got up and engaged whatever the day held. I let it flow, and if there was anything on that day’s agenda I just went—no pushing or striving.

 

I determined to try to continue the practice at work: live each day, go to bed thankful for the day, and not think about the next day with any kind of fear or anxiety. My work anxieties flare when I bring a future event into my present. I carry too many things at once and it becomes burdensome. But I don’t look ahead like that in vacation mode. Maybe this could become practice for my regular life.

 

Without this shift of mindset, I can be like a ball in a pinball machine. The pace and proclamations of our culture repeatedly slap me back into that game-maze: You need this! You need that! You’re behind! Get going! Ping, ping-ping, ping!

 

An expansive, settled, unrushed journey can be engaged without striving. I know this is true because I have experienced it on vacation. So why not try it in work mode? This is what I’m practicing.

 

Pushing, trying, and angsting do not work for me. If I can maintain a larger and more relaxed view, then I do not have to fall prey to the culture’s traps. Maybe I could find my place and enjoy the ride.

 

I choose not to be the ball in the pinball machine. I’m opening the cover, reaching in, taking my ball, and walking away. I could then hold that ball in my open hand as I meet with God, seeking wisdom, love, and care.

 

And like Eva’s grandfather, I could simply drive at my pace, enjoying the beauty of the terrain and making my way in peace.

 

For Reflection: 

How do you feel about the pace of your work life? What might be done about that?
What character growth do you notice as you continue your own long obedience in the same direction?
What might you let go of to engage life the way you desire?

UL #300: Navigating Life's Crossroads (Gem with Emily P. Freeman)

 

If life were a house, then every room holds a story. What do we do when a room we’re in is no longer a room where we belong?

 

What do you do when you start to feel a shift and must decide if it’s time to make a change? When it comes to navigating big decisions about when to stay and go, how can we know for sure when the time is right? Though we enter and exit many rooms over the course of our life—jobs, relationships, communities, life stages—knowing how and when it’s time to leave is a decision that rarely has a clear answer.

 

My guest today, Emily P. Freeman, offers guidance to help us recognize when it’s time to move on from situations that no longer fit, allowing us to find new spaces where we can flourish and grow.

 

Emily P. Freeman is the Wall Street Journal bestselling author of five books, including The Next Right Thing: A Simple, Soulful Practice for Making Life Decisions. As a spiritual director, workshop leader, and host of The Next Right Thing podcast, her most important work is to help create soul space and offer spiritual companionship and discernment for anyone struggling with decision fatigue. Emily holds a master’s degree in spiritual formation and leadership from Friends University. She lives in North Carolina with her family.