Molly Davis's Blog, page 38

Dealing With It

After years of leading workshops and retreats and working with coaching clients, there is almost always this moment when the energy changes. Something I’ve said strikes a nerve, gets to the point, or sheds a light on something true. People perk up and listen, pick up a pen, and begin writing. Yesterday, in a workshop on leading teams, that moment came when I talked about how un-dealt with issues can undermine team strength, erode trust, and cause communication breakdowns. In the room heads nodded as they brought to mind what those unresolved issues and avoided conversations might be in their own teams.

We didn’t talk about the specifics, because that is their work to do in the days ahead, and because I usually teach what I need to hear too, I work to be right there with them. To apply what I am saying to them to my own life. It is safe to say that most of us don’t wake up and hope to have a difficult conversation, face avoided issues, and ask hard questions. It is equally safe to say that the longer we put such things off, the harder they are to face.

Whether talking about an organization, work team, friendship, marriage, NFL team, or a family, developing the skills to address issues as they arise, work through things rather than skirt around them, and keep our “accounts” current, is hard work, but oh such good work. It pays off every time we have the courage to do it, and it costs us every time we don’t.

A Second Language

The longer we wait to learn a new language, the harder it is to learn. It’s possible. Just harder.

As a girl who tends to make her mind up quickly, have an opinion on how things should be done, and who is pretty sure she is right most of the time, especially when she’s wrong, I have mastered the language I’m calling Certainty. It flows off my tongue like water. To say that I’m fluent in it is an understatement, as anyone who knows and loves me anyway can attest.

However, when it comes to the language I’m calling Curiosity, I am anything but fluent. But I want to be. To that end, I am practicing a few simple phrases as often as I can, knowing that repetition and practice are the keys to mastery.

I could be wrong about that.

You could be right about that.

Those two statements still catch in my throat, and most likely catch those who hear them off guard, but the more I say them, the more easily they come. Every day provides me with ample opportunity to practice, and for that I am grateful (mostly). I’ve spent years mastering the language of Certainty, and it is my hope that with practice, I will be able to claim Curiosity as a second language in which I am fluent.

What language would you like to learn?

Two Kinds Of Energy

There are two types of energy with which we can meet the world.

Aspirational or Oppositional.

We can extend our efforts to achieve what we envision, work for a desired outcome, and move toward our aspirations.

Or.

We can extend our efforts to prevent what we dread, work against unwanted outcomes, and move away from what we fear.

The former is built on hope, the latter on fear.

Are you working for what you want, or against what you don’t?

Pixels.com

Aging Part 2

When did it become not okay to age? Or even more to the point, when did it become okay not to age? Measuring who we are with who we think we should be, comparing ourselves to images that aren’t even real, we strive for the impossible. Years ago, Jamie Lee Curtis agreed to have herself photographed without the magic eraser of technology. The images of her photo-edited self were presented side-by-side with the ones of the ‘real’ her. It was a courageous, gracious and liberating act. It was like looking at Barbie standing next to a real girl, who if she were real, wouldn’t be able to stand on her two little adorable high-heeled feet. She’d topple over on her perfect little plastic nose.

Molly Davis - BLUSH: Women & Wine

Looking at my arms, I could be my own connect-the-dots game. This past year the number of brown spots on my arms have at least doubled. Some are big, some are small, all are obvious. From topical treatments to laser and micro needling, there are treatments to help diminish their appearance. My fine lines, wrinkles, and less-than-taut jawline grow more noticeable every year, and, there are treatments to help with those too. The price for possible treatments range from a few to thousands of dollars. To say that I’m not tempted to jump in and get some significant work done wouldn’t be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. But so help me God, I continue to be more inclined to to do my best to age well without too much outside help.

In a conversation with a lovely woman in her mid-thirties, I learned that she is already feeling the pressure to get on the cosmetic treatment bandwagon to take care of the few teeny, tiny lines that are beginning to appear. Lines that, like all of ours, tell the story of her life. It was a conversation that made me sad for the ways in which we all seem to compare ourselves to others, and almost always find ourselves coming up short. It also troubles me for the erosion of respect for the process of aging and for the beauty that can only be found in the faces and bodies of the elders among us.

It might sound like I am opposed to having any cosmetic work done. Quite the contrary. Full disclosure, years ago I had breast implants put in, and then a few years later, had them taken out. For me, it was the right call, but I can’t and won’t speak for anyone else. I’m for doing what it takes for any of us to feel comfortable in our own skin. I am, however, against an industry and a culture that tells me to go out and buy the right skin.

Aging

Not too long ago I was walking down an aisle at Costco looking for something on my list. An employee in the same aisle looked at me, smiled, and in an all-too-perky-slightly-patronizing voice said, Well, hello there young lady. How are you today?

First of all, I’m 65 years old, and while I may look pretty good for my age, and tend to dress in a rather hip-but-appropriate-for-my-age kind of way, I am most certainly not a “young” lady by anyone’s standard.

Second of all, I don’t want to be young again. While I wish I had started wearing sun screen earlier, every wrinkle and line tells the story of the life I’ve lived, and the wisdom I’ve gained has been hard won.

For those of us in the third-third of life, it could be, should be, our vision to show what it means to age well. To stay active and strong, and to continue to offer our strengths and gifts to the world around us. To lead the charge in modeling the courage to continue to show up and do the work of becoming authentic and wholehearted human beings.

From the moment we arrive on the planet we are on a one way trip off of it again. Every year is ours to make of it what we can in order to, in some way, leave the world better than we found it. My 66th year is just around my corner, and in case anyone is wondering, this 65 year old woman is doing just fine, thank you.

(Sometimes I just need to rant a little.)

Delores's Delight

…I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.

~ Barbara Brown Taylor - Learning To Walk In The Dark

It’s called Delores’s Delight.

The favorite dessert of my childhood, I dusted off the recipe card today and made a big batch of it for the first time in years. If I had to choose a final meal before leaving the planet, this dessert would be on the menu. While others in my family wanted cake for their birthday, I only wanted this, and if you decide to make a batch, you’ll probably know why.

Growing up, the best part about it wasn’t the first piece after dinner, delicious as it was. It was waking up in the middle of the night, sneaking into the kitchen and finding my dad there too. In the dark we would cut two more pieces and savor every bite before heading back to bed. Somehow it tasted even better in the shadow filled kitchen than the light filled dining room.

When it comes to this delectable dessert, it is the crushed dark chocolate cookies layered on the bottom and sprinkled over the top that help hold it all together and set off the flavor of the sweet, rich center. In our lives, the dark, the shadow parts of ourselves that we have been courageous enough to explore and come to know as intimately as the rest, are layered with the light, and are key ingredients in what it means to be a whole human being.

Delore’s Delight is a combination of the dark and the light, just like my relationship with my dad. And a lot like real life when it comes right down to it. In order for our lives to be authentic, wholehearted and real, we must incorporate the dark with the light in order to cook up a whole life. One without the other just doesn’t cut it.

Dirty Baby

As soon as he was out of the car he made a beeline first for the driveway to play with the gravel, and then for the front yard to scoop up handfuls of dirt from the latest gopher mounds. In short order, our grandson Cai’s hands were dirty, and his onesie covered in dust.

He was…. a happy camper.

A free range kid.

He wasn’t concerned about keeping things neat and tidy, or how he would look with a little dirt on his face. Nope. Not one bit. Cai was captivated by his surroundings and curious to explore the world within reach of his grubby little hands.

When did we forget how good it is to get a little, or a lot, dirty now and then? To forget what people might think, and allow ourselves to be captivated by the world around us and curious to explore the world within reach of our probably too clean hands?

As wee Can knows, life is too short to worry about clean fingernails.

Another Star Is Born

If joy had a face, it would look like Valerie Christine Pierson. Born 34 years ago today, she came into my life when I answered a personals ad written by her dad. From day one she wiggled and giggled her way into my heart, and has never left.

I’m not sure I’ve ever met a more generous human being in my life. If Val has it to give, she will. Whatever it is. Her time. Her talent. Her listening ear and her caring heart. If there is one story that captures the essence of this beautiful woman I get to call one of my daughters it is this one. Heading home from New Jersey after her Granddad’s memorial service, Valerie, Tom, and I were sitting in one of those dark airport restaurants where other weary travelers gather while waiting for their flights home. While I was focused on my burger and glass of wine, Val spotted two women sitting at a nearby table, heads close together, tears streaming down their faces. She didn’t know why they were sad and in pain, only that they were. Val quietly got up from the table, went up to the bar, paid for their lunch, and then as if it were the most natural thing in the world to buy a meal for two strangers, returned to our table. Only as the women were leaving the restaurant did the whole story come out. They were mother and daughter and had just lost their father and grandfather. Val’s kindness was just the balm their two broken hearts needed to remind them that even in the midst of loss and grief there is love and grace to be found, often through the kindness of strangers.

She is a mama bear to her Jonah-bear and I dare you to find a more fiercely loving mom anywhere. They share a love of the Portland Trailblazers, their new family addition, Comet-the-dog, and doing almost anything together.

I’ve never known a happier spirit. Come what may, somehow Val is able to find the silver-lining in almost any situation. Once during a particularly challenging time, when most people would go down with the ship, I suggested she come up with a mantra that she could say when things got tough. She didn’t miss a beat. "Things could be worse.” she said with a smile. At first blush, that didn’t strike me as an especially useful thing to say. But the more I thought about it, that is Val to a T. No matter how hard things are, she knows that others have it far worse and will do her best to make life better for anyone within her reach.

Val has a faith in the God who loves everyone regardless of who they are, what they’ve done, or where they come from. She has the husky voice of a rock-n-roll angel, loves everything glitz and glamour, and is a down-home family girl at heart.

I have no idea where life will take this bright and shining star of mine next, but wherever she goes and whomever she meets, they will be the better for it.

Happy birthday Val.

You are one in a million!

ATG Photography

Solitary Solidarity

On the home page for Life In The Trinity Ministry there is a phrase that rings as so true and so important.

A place for solitary work that cannot be done alone.

There is work that is ours to do, and no one else can do it for us.

However.

There is a need for us to have a safe place to do that work in relationship with others. A place where we can say what is true for us and be heard. A place where we can bring our questions and not get ready answers, our fears and not have them shushed away, and our messy emotions and not have someone try to clean them up. We need people who will keep us from getting burned, and, will hold our feet to the fire. People who see for us what we can’t see for ourselves, and, who accept us as we are.

While the work may be ours alone to do, there is safety in numbers. Going it together reminds us that we are not alone in our desire to make sense of things, and to become as fully ourselves as we are meant to be.

I am grateful to those who walk with me on my journey to becoming whole, and for those who invite me to walk with them.

Onward.

Together.

Photo by Matt Hatchett from Pexels

Everything

“We do not think ourselves into new ways of living. We live ourselves into new ways of thinking.”

― Richard Rohr

Our lives are made up of so many bits and pieces that it is easy to lose sight of the wholeness of it all. Not the perfection of it all, but the wholeness that is our life. Like a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle, each little piece contains a small fragment of the image that when put together will make the whole picture.

We, or at least I, get sidetracked by the small bits, forgetting that they are necessary to the whole. And in forgetting that they are necessary to the whole I let myself get swept up in frustration at what I’m not getting to, seeing things as interruptions to my day rather than integral to my day.

I forget that it all matters. I forget that the task at hand, the person on the other end of the phone, and the unexpected occurrence are all parts of the larger picture. They are all opportunities to show up fully and bring the best of myself to what, in that moment, is mine to do.

I forget that every emotion matters. I forget that there is as much to learn from the visitation of the hard emotions, the dark and painful ones, as there is from the gentle, shimmering, and delightful ones. That every one that comes knocking at my door has, as Rumi writes in The Guesthouse, been sent as a guide from beyond.

I forget that as Franciscan priest, author, and spiritual teacher Richard Rohr believes, everything belongs. Think about that for a moment. Everything belongs. Everything belongs. Everything belongs.

Everything.

What if we began to see everything that shows up at our doorstep as an invitation to become more of who we are meant to be?

What if we began to actually live into the truth that everything belongs.

It might just change everything.

Photo: pexels.com

With gratitude to Dane Anthony