Having the Right Tools

Many years ago I was visiting a friend, who didn't cook often, for dinner.  I watched her labor over tasks that I could have done in seconds with a better set of tools in my kitchen.  At some point, I observed to myself that people who "don't like to cook" often don't have the right tools, which might be why they don't enjoy it: it's just too much work.

I spend most holiday dinners with a friend who is a great cook, but who doesn't have the best tools. She often asks me to carve the turkey or whatever piece of meat is to be at the center of the table, and then gives me a knife that wouldn't cut butter on a hot summer day to do so.  I started bringing my own knives, which make the task much more enjoyable.  The right tools make all the difference.

There was a man in my life once who liked to putter in his woodshop. He loved to hang out in the local hardware store, and after every trip, he would bring home what I perceived as a "toy." For him, it was probably just the right tool.  He produced remarkable works of art in our garage.  I suspect that the things he brought home from the hardware store were the guy equivalent of the right kitchen tools for me.

Today I walked from my home in Washington to Bethesda, Maryland.  I do so a few times a year.  It took me 57 minutes which is just a good workout, but I am sure I have done it in less time.  It was cold and windy, and as often occurs in those conditions, my nose dripped a lot.  Those, I thought, were the reasons that it took so long.

I had been aware that after about 40 minutes, my right foot was hurting a lot.  It has been bothering me when I exercise for a few months now.  I thought maybe I was getting arthritis in my foot.  I was not happy with the prospect, but resigned that at some point the vagaries of aging were inevitably going to start.

When I returned home, a new pair of running shoes were waiting for me.  I couldn't remember the last time I had new ones, but it had been long enough that these were shipped to a friend where I used to live.  I haven't lived at that address for almost 10 years.  It hadn't occurred to me that my slower walk or my uncomfortable right foot might actually be the result of aging athletic equipment.  At least, not until I put the new shoes on at about 8 p.m. and wore them around my little one-bedroom apartment.  It wasn't much walking, but by 9:30, I was keenly aware that my  right foot had stopped hurting. Then I noticed that my calves were relaxing.  I felt like my whole posture was more relaxed.

When I ran regularly, I  would never have worn the same shoes for more than a year or 18 months tops, but somehow when I was working out less frequently, I had lost awareness that I needed new equipment: the right tools for being active.  Now after three hours, all the discomforts I've been charging up to the vagaries of aging are gone...completely. Instantly, I am younger. I am eager to do a full workout in them.

It seems to me that whether we are in the kitchen, the woodshop, or working out, we need the right tools to do the things we do well.  It is the same with our spiritual practices.  I wrote earlier in January about Caroline Myss's expression of having a "prayer bank account" to draw on.  We show up daily and make prayer "deposits," and then when we have a serious need, we can make a withdrawal.  It is the same with journaling, making gratitude lists, dream journaling, or meditating.  If we are disciplined--regular students--about our spiritual practices, they become like the tools that we use in other pastimes.  The more we use them, the easier and more reliable they become.

Just after a month of more disciplined spiritual practices, I am finally falling back into the rhythm of regularity. I am remembering several dreams a night in great detail. My mind stills quickly for meditation.  My voice is clear as I pray.  Like good knives in the kitchen or new running shoes, my tools feel like they are working for me.

What is My Why?

Heart Magazines is challenging my commitment to feel free to throw away unwanted gifts.  Over the last 10 days I've probably received a dozen unsolicited and unwanted magazines.  Most I have immediately taken to the recycling bin.  I passed some along to a friend.  Because a couple had articles about wellness, fitness, or nutrition, all topics of interest to me, I kept and mostly skimmed before contributing them to recycling.

This evening I skimmed an interview with Biggest Loser fitness icon Jillian Michaels in the current issue of Redbook.  In it she shared that if we wanted to stick to a healthy regime, how important it was to know "why" wanted it. She shared that now that she has children, instead of choosing between doughnuts and skinny jeans, her "why" has changed to choosing between doughnuts and seeing her great-grandchildren.

The concept of knowing our "why" is not a new one.  Management guru Simon Sinek has one of the most popular YouTube videos* describing that it is the "why" behind an action that really motivates people. As a long-time organizational consultant, I believe the failure to build shared commitment to why something should change is probably the biggest single shortcoming of senior leadership teams. So, Michaels' comments only reinforced what I already know to be true.  If we don't really understand why something is important to us, we aren't likely to stick to it.

I am doing so-so with my relationship with sugar recently.  As I read Michaels' words, I thought maybe that is it: I don't know why I want to avoid sugar.  Well, that isn't quite true.  I am badly addicted, and I don't want any substance to own me like sugar does.  But along with knowing why, it is important to know in positive terms what we want to move toward.  In Michaels' case, she wants to move toward seeing her great-grandchildren.

Not wanting a substance to own me is a negative.  Our brains aren't motivated by negatives. I stopped reading and sat quietly and ran through an exercise I use with coaching clients to ascertain their "why."  I struggled for a bit, and then finally it came to me.  I want to avoid sugar so that I am in spiritual integrity.  I made a commitment to myself to avoid sugar. The commitment has nothing to do with sugar and everything to do with my spiritual discipline to keep a promise I make to myself. When I indulge, and certainly when I overindulge as is so easy during the holidays, my lack of spiritual integrity sucks spiritual energy (and life) from me.  When I keep commitment to myself, I am in spiritual integrity, and I attract supportive, spiritual energy.

As anyone who has grappled with an addiction knows, winning those battles happens one day at a time.  I make no sweeping predictions about how I will do with my struggles with sugar. Now that I understand that, rather than avoiding a destructive substant, my commitment is one to spiritual integrity, I have a definite "why."





*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sioZd3AxmnE

"If a Tree Falls,..."

There is an oft-quoted question, "If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" (George Berkeley)  There are those who would say that if there is no one to witness the fall, the tree falling down doesn't make a sound.  Others would argue that, of course, a tree falling makes a sound; whether someone hears it is moot.  We will never know for sure.  The heart of the matter is whether something exists without a witness.

For me, on this day, this is a poignant question.  For over a month, I've been keeping my commitment to write a daily post to this blog, exploring the spiritual questions and bits of wisdom I encounter on my path.  It has been rich for me.  It is a spiritual practice. 

Today it has been 10 days since anyone has read my blog.  Without witnesses, like the tree falling in the forest, I wonder if my Voice has been muted.  Is my exercise a vain one? There are really two answers to this question.  Both start with "no."

Answer One: No; it is not a vain exercise.  Spiritual teacher Carolyn Myss has talked about having a "prayer chakra," something like a prayer bank account.  If we faithfully make deposits every day, someday when we really need it and call on God for help, we will have a well-tuned connection.  I am faithfully showing up, and will continue to faithfully show up, to make deposits. Think of writing this blog as not only developing my writing muscle, but making deposits to my spiritual bank account.

Answer Two: No; it is not a vain exercise.  My soul has been greatly enriched.  Each day I learn, or more often remember, things I didn't know or had forgotten.  I am becoming truer to myself.  I have been awakened from my autopilot existence.  If no one ever reads it, writing the blog is doing the three things that Helen in The Game Called Life said that life was really about.  It is helping me to develop my gifts, in this case for writing.  It is helping me to grow spiritually and learn spiritual lessons. It is available to be of service to the evolution of the Universe when the time is right.  Writing this blog is why I am here...in this life.  That is real.

I have no idea about that tree falling in the forest, but I do know that whatever we do to help ourselves be more whole is enough.  The very act of writing and becoming more whole is having an impact on the world.  So, I will keep writing....

Surrendering the Past

 A couple weeks ago I wrote about "being present"--really being awake in our lives and fully conscious of our spiritual growth opportunities.  Ever since the other "being present" has been gnawing at me: being in the present.    Being in the present means not being in the past and not being in the future, but being in the moment--in present time.

One of the affirmations I'm working this six-month cycle is "I surrender the past, leaving only the present."  Surrender is an interesting word.  Surrender implies that we are willing to fight till we have nothing left to prevent giving something up.  For many, if not most, of us, we go to the mat to hang on to what has been.  Hanging onto the past robs us of the present, and the present is the only place that we can make change in our lives.  Hanging onto the past prevents us from moving forward.

Spiritual discipline is the very act of choosing to be present...again, and again, and again.  Spiritual discipline--being the student--means choosing to try something that is hard that we've tried before in the past and maybe failed at once or many times.  But today, we can start new.  Today we have a clean slate.  Today is the day that we can rewrite our stories to be the person that we are becoming.

In The Alchemy of Fear I wrote that our "has been" engage in all out battle with  our "becoming."  As who we are becoming gains strength, our "has been" fights to retain who we have been in the past. The present is uncharted territory.  In the present we can start afresh each day.  Our "becoming" in the present holds out the lure of success.  Only if we lose sight of what we are becoming can we slip backwards into the past. 

I said yesterday that I finally had recaptured the vision of the author, spiritual guide/coach, and professional speaker that I was for so many years.  That is what I am "becoming" again.  Even though that was a life I had before, I know it will be different this time--even better than I can imagine.  I eagerly surrender who I have been  to embrace who I AM "becoming" in the present.

Spiritual discipline

I know that I said yesterday that today I was going to write about what happens when I don't ask and/or don't listen to my guidance.  However, my guidance today was to write something different. 

Today a passage of scripture from the Christian New Testament Gospel of Luke (17:1-4) guided worship. At the beginning of the passage, The Teacher talks about forgiveness.  The lesson says that if someone transgresses against us even as many as seven times in a day and asks for forgiveness that we are to forgive them. 

A couple days ago I wrote about doing the first two parts of a forgiveness exercise.  I forgave those that I felt I needed to forgive, but I am certain that several of them would not have asked for forgiveness.   Yet, I have forgiven them, and that I am not carrying resentment any longer is a gift for me.  I also meditationally asked others for forgiveness.  Since I was asking, I assume that qualifies me for forgiveness. 

In each of those exercises what was amazing was that as soon as forgiveness was given either way, there would be a wave of positive memories about that person, which the lack of forgiveness had blocked.  As I worked through the list, my heart felt more and more full.  I realize that the lesson today really was about opening our hearts. No matter how many times that we must forgive, doing so is a gift we give ourselves--the gift of the open heart.

What I haven't written about was the third part of the exercise, which I completed a day later.  The third column was comprised of things for which I needed to forgive myself.  As I thought about that list this morning, I recalled the impatience I felt about needing to forgive myself for the umpteenth time for not asking for guidance before I did something, not following the guidance I got, or following the guidance when it was so delinquent that it no longer had efficacy. 

It is much easier for me to forgive people who have done some pretty nasty things to me than it was to forgive myself.  Many of the times that I'd forgotten to check in with my heart occurred months or years apart.  Could I forgive myself seven times in a day? 

The word "discipline" derives from the Greek for "disciple" which means "student."  A spiritual discipline implies that it is our way of learning to be closer to our spirits.  For me, that means following what is written on my heart and messaged to me through listening to my heart. 

I realize that I have an unduly harsh standard for myself when it comes to being a spiritual student.  Somehow, even though I know we are all beginners, I expect myself to be perfect. However, the word "sin" was an archery term which meant the archer missed the bulls-eye: missed the mark. The implication was that the archer needed to adjust his/her aim. "Sin" isn't an arbitrary standard of judgment but rather a teaching term about how to get it better--not perfect--the next time.  That is what a spiritual discipline is about: aiming over and again until we hit the mark.

Now I realize that I did end up writing about what happens when I didn't follow my guidance, but it hasn't ended up looking like I expected.  That is what happens when we listen to the wisdom of our hearts.

Yes, I have failed to ask for guidance from my heart, and I have failed to follow in a timely way.  The results weren't as rewarding as those I wrote about yesterday and hundreds of other stories I could have written. AND, I have aimed again.  Now, I will recall that I should have forgive me...even seven times a day, if needed.

Ahhh!