Picking Up Our Power

We often don’t believe we have any power because the idea has been hijacked by people who use their positions to force their ways. People in every sphere use words to threaten and manipulate, and we have all been affected by it. As a result, most have come to see power as evil.

But real power involves invitation. Helping someone go from despair back to hope is more powerful than any act of force or coercion. We invite people to see a new perspective, to share our hope, to see bigger.

We’ve all had times when we get blindsided by something. We have a measure of hope and things are going relatively smoothly. And then. We get hit with a challenge we didn’t see coming. We are tempted to quit all the declarations we made about staying positive. We’ve all been there.

And it’s ok. Our minds can’t process life in an instant. It takes a minute to look at the challenge squarely in the face, and let the effects of the situation sink in.

I had an example of this recently. I was praying blessings over those I love, and I was seeing the effects of it. And then one of my kids was met with some misfortune. They were rightfully upset and sad over what had happened. As moms, we feel all the pain our kids feel. I texted a friend and said, “What good does blessing do? Nothing matters.”

Knee jerk response. Of course it matters. After a little time, I came back to that. I think it’s ok to go down with people who go down. It might take a minute, but if we are going to offer them a hand back up, we’re going to have to pull ourselves back up first. 

That “hand” we offer is often words. The next day, “Thinking about you. How are you doing today?” Checking in, standing with them, processing challenges alongside them. It’s not some big lecture or advice. We let them know they are not alone, and that helps them process and heal.

Despair is always trying to crash into mental spaces, our own and those we care about. By finding a thought or two that leans away from it, we are picking our power back up. The smallest of choices helps us bring light not only into our own lives, but also into the lives of those who may feel broken. 

We fill our hands up with words of invitation. We have the power to go from “Nothing matters at all” to “It all matters.” And how we see that matters a lot.

On Taylor Swift, Writing, and Also Therapy

Taylor Swift used these words to describe why she wrote the songs on her latest album, The Tortured Poets Department. Mostly about relationships gone bad, her pain was real and her life was undone. She said she HAD to write it. 

The imagery she uses throughout her songs is haunting. “My spine split from carrying us up the hill.” After writing heart wrenching songs to describe what she went through, she declared her tears holy as she released it. And then, by her own testimony, she was free of it.

We all have that same power. As we get older, our breakup stories have become distant memories, but we all have a measure of current pain. Time after time, I turned to words on paper when struggling. Those words, that so often helped me get through, didn’t exist before I dug in and pulled them out. 

A couple years ago, I went to therapy to get past some things that were hard. I wasn’t so much looking for advice as I was needing to flesh out what I was wrestling with. Speaking the words helped. If we don’t find words to express our pain, I think it just stays inside. We might be able to ignore it and push it deep, but it doesn’t get released. Sometimes therapy can help us get that done.

Here’s the thing. Sometimes we need words for our “sad stories.” We could be facing a serious problem or just finding ourselves with something we can’t get past. Poetry, stories, talks with friends, journal scribblings, therapy, and prayer…they all help us put words to what we are going through. They all provide opportunity to get “ink on the page,” and give shape to what we’re experiencing. It helps our tears become holy.

And fortunately for us, we don’t have to release our words to millions of people as part of our healing. We can sit all alone in front of a piece of paper, no one ever seeing or hearing it. Public or private, sometimes we just “HAVE to write it.”

Grateful to the poets who put words to what they go through, so we can learn from principles that apply to all of us. Thank you Taylor for sharing your pain…your poetry is brilliant. 

On Vulnerability

On the surface, vulnerability seems paradoxical. As we get brave enough to share our innermost thoughts and emotions, we often expose the weakness we have tried to hide.  

When we’re younger, we usually protect ourselves with some kind of “armor.” As we’re building relationships, careers, and personalities, we are careful about what we allow others to see. We’re building our lives and protecting our foundations.

But as we get older, we find armor gets heavy. So we begin leaning into vulnerability, which exposes those parts of ourselves that we have protected. Vulnerability takes our weakness, infuses it with courage, and ultimately reveals strength. It’s not always easy to do.

Whether it’s in conversation or on social media, sometimes our picture needs to show the rain, not just the rainbow. No one wants to see the rain day after day, but only showing rainbows is pretentious. The fullness of beauty is about the many facets of life bumping up against each other continually. The good, the bad, and the ugly all at the same time. 

Vulnerability lets people know they are not alone, particularly in their bad and ugly. We can all fall victim to comparison, and when others are continually showing the good, we often fall short. We know our lives contain so much more. And by more, we generally mean less. Less rainbow, less sunshine, less charm. What is wrong with my life?

But when someone offers a glimpse into their struggle, we find a sigh. I am not alone. I’m not the only one with a bit of a mess in a world filled with perfect images. I think we’ve all experienced times when we learned we were not the only ones experiencing a particular situation or fear or sadness. And how we came away just little lighter.

The rain and the rainbow both exist in our lives. Wisdom dictates which one gets highlighted at a particular time. Only as we’re sensitive to the needs of others can we make that call. We are most alive when we take this simple act of vulnerability, wrapped in an unseen layer of courage and strength, and help others feel seen and not alone.

Maybe vulnerability is another word for love.

On Friendship

Being a good friend is about reassurance; it’s about letting our friends know that we believe in them, we trust them, we like them.

An important part of friendship is listening, but here’s the key: To truly listen, we must learn not to compete with their narrative.

When someone shares a challenge, or sadness, or loss with us, they are opening a window into their soul, at that moment. Part of our growth as a good friend is allowing others to take all the air. It’s not always a ping pong match, volleying stories over the net. When someone is sharing something hard with us, we need to resist the temptation to pop the ball back over.

If we hear it like they need us to fix them, we undervalue their strength. It is a slice of their heart, not the entirety. If they don’t ask us to help, we should not offer words. In offering our ears, we endorse their strength.

As we get older, we’re likely to have had an experience that is similar to what they are describing. We can be tempted to jump in and share, giving them the advice or adage that helps them feel better. We all do that from time to time.

But real listening quietly communicates that we believe in them. They are stronger than they know. As our shoulder presses up against their shoulder, our bond with them strengthens. I so value my friends who know when I am going through something and ask, How are you, really? It’s a question we can all learn to sincerely ask.

By resisting the urge to fix our friends, turning their vulnerability into a counseling session, we endorse their strength. After they have a chance to share all that’s in their heart, we have a chance to let them know they are both heard and seen. And that we believe in them.

And isn’t that what we all want? To be seen, to believe we are strong, and to know we are not alone.

Anxious Thoughts

Anxious thoughts take up a lot of space, and we can find ourselves dealing with these thoughts more than we like. There’s no magic potion that releases all anxiety, but anything that can alleviate the anxious monkey mind is welcome.

Sometimes we don’t know why we’re having anxious thoughts. It’s helpful to stop and acknowledge that they’re there, having a quasi conversation with them. “Ok, I hear you, you’re fussing about something. If you’re just in a creative mode, coming up with scenarios and what ifs, I don’t have time for that. And if it’s more, there’s nothing I can do right now. I’m going to let you you figure that out.”

If the anxiety is high, we can try to divert our thoughts. It could be a book, or music, or games on the phone. It could be a walk or some form of creative endeavor. After we step back for a while, sometimes it’s easier to see the core of the anxious thought.

Oh yeah, that. So often there’s nothing we can do about the root cause of the anxiety. But our goal when anxious thoughts arise isn’t to whack away at the root; it’s to calm our nervous system, even if just a notch.

When I’m on my game, I will stop and breathe deeply. I whisper, “This moment, not that one.” It helps when I say “this moment” as I breathe in. Breathing out I whisper “not that one,” and visualize the anxious thought dissipating. The present moment always contains some stillness that I can tap into until my body begins to soften.

The antidote for truly calming anxious thoughts is generally not an action step. After we get our minds to settle a bit, it’s generally the opposite. This moment, I can breathe deeply, I can allow gratitude and kindness to seep in, I can pray. The most we can do often looks like nothing.

So we get still and breathe deeply. Whatever is causing our anxiety will likely still be there. Our goal isn’t to dissolve the cause, it’s to quiet our nervous system. It’s a practice we learn, and if there’s a lot going on, we learn it over and over all day long.

“THIS moment, not that one.”

Conversations with Friends

I used to observe that when older people got together, it seemed all they talked about were health problems. I remember thinking how sad that was. Can’t they talk about something else, I thought. Change the subject.

But what I didn’t understand then was that all groups of friends talk abut what they are going through at that moment. There’s dating, career challenges, finances. Pregnancy, morning sickness, doctor appointments. Parenting, relational issues, toddlers. It happens in every age group.

Younger people may be uncomfortable listening to older adults talk about health issues. It can feel depressing. But when older people get together, it really helps to talk about all the things. The challenges of getting older are many. And we can’t really understand something until we walk through it. 

Our new “normals” have changed a lot. I am no longer working, my husband is about to retire, I have five doctor appointments this month. Yes five. I feel like my father.

But what makes it all seem more “normal” is that my friends are going through similar things. We share thoughts on what we do all day, how to find purpose in these years, the health challenges we face, things our older kids are going through, where we should go for coffee. And happy hour. You know, all the things.

No one need worry about us having these discussions. Most often, once we’re done being with our likeminded friends, we shift our focus to what others are going through. We probably have a little understanding of what they’re going through because at this age we likely have been there too.

So when we overhear a group of likeminded friends discussing things we find uncomfortable or obsessive, let’s remember that they are processing a stage of life that they’re trying to understand.

The subject doesn’t need to change. A good discussion with friends that understand is better than therapy. Well, actually, it IS therapy. 

The Mind of Morning

“…Put on the mind of morning 
Feel the rush of light spread slowly inside 
The color and stillness of a found world.”
John O’Donohue

At this moment, I’m staying  in a beautiful condo in Palm Springs, giving my body a break from the damp cold Pacific Northwest. Upon waking every morning, there is a button I press to make the blinds go up. Depending on what time I wake up, it can still be dark outside.

But I am not fearful I will find darkness when I open the blinds. Because I know. I know it’s just before the dawn and the light will soon come.

Perhaps I can learn to put on the “mind of morning” through this. I can learn not to decide based on what I see, but what I know. Some days it’s a hard shift. There can be a low level anxiety based on simply seeing. Because often, things look dark.

But I can come to know that seeing darkness does not define the moments ahead. I can trust that deep inside there is a light that can slowly spread. That’s a hard ask at times. We can’t connect to what routinely happens over and over, day after day. The dark is not the final word. 

I may not be able to do that every time. But maybe even just once, I can convert the container of dark thoughts into the mind of morning. I don’t know. Everything is easier when I think about it. Not so easy when it shows up.

But how easy it is to push the button and lift the blinds. Maybe I can bring this “mind of morning” with me into my day. How beautiful to let in whatever is out there. The prelude to morning or the bright light of dawn.

As I lift those blinds, the mind of morning eagerly awaits what’s out there. I guess what I let in each time is hope. A new dawn. A new day. 

The Challenge of Staying Present

A few weeks ago, I bought a plant that blooms late summer and wanted a new pot so I could put it on our deck. When I walked into HomeGoods, I was met with a wall of Halloween and fall decor. I could not find a single pot.

It was mid-August, with over a full month of summer waiting to unfold. But no. Whether people were done with being hot or just wanting a change, the stores bank on our inabiity to linger in the present. All I know is I couldn’t find a single pot.

I understand that stores can’t wait until a season has already shown up to put out merchandise. But declaring our present season is over and done, while we have a beautiful stretch ahead of us, indicates that our constant desire to move to the next thing is more prevalent than we know. 

When I was growing up, we often booked a house down the shore for the end of August. I don’t remember dreading that it was end of August. We played in the water, built stuff with sand, and enjoyed every minute we were there. We went home and continued playing until we realized school was starting that week. We eagerly got our things together and were excited to see our friends again.

I desperately want to be able to enjoy life like that again. I have found myself dreading the end of summer because living in the Pacific Northwest means the cloudy rainy days will be coming. But today it is sunny. Today it is still summer. Being aware of our tendencies to sneak out of the present helps us keep our feet in. 

The older we get, the faster the days seem to go. The pumpkins and fall leaves will be here soon enough. I decided to just plant that flower and cut me a summer bouquet to remind myself that summer is still alive and well. No corporate marketing strategy will convince me otherwise.

Censorship Is Not A Valid Form of Argument

It’s exhausting really. Trying to navigate the narratives out there, trying to find what is true, trying to make decisions based on merit.

I worked on my doctorate in rhetoric, the study of persuasion. We studied Aristotle and the greats of speaking, logic, and argument. I went on to teach logic to 8th graders. Clearly, the subject matter was scalable to minds that did not even have a high school understanding of reasoning. These kids were pretty good at it.

So I get easily frustrated by the lack of reason in the “discussion” of today’s issues. The “discussion” mostly involves finding quotes, memes, or TikToc videos which support the way we already see things. And to prove we’re on the right side of the moral argument, we post them as stand alone definitive proof.

Maybe because of my background, I am always curious about what both sides are saying. And that curiosity runs into walls at every turn, mostly because there is little outlet for true discussion. 

I like podcasts because they can offer that format, and I listen to a wide range of them. The other day I listened to Joe Rogan’s interview with Robert Kennedy Jr. I have been curious about him because I am neither a Trump or Biden fan, and I would like to hear what other candidates are saying.

I didn’t know much about Kennedy going in. I discovered he has a lot to say about environmental issues, government oversight, and the vaccine industry. To be clear, I am not an anti-vaxxer. I have all the vaccines, including the boosters. But I listened with curiosity as he talked about the problems with vaccines, drug companies, and government regulation.

He listed study after study backing his claims. I am responsible to follow up on these claims and determine whether the conclusions were sound or not. I am responsible to see if there is any merit to the conclusions he is drawing. It is stupid to argue someone’s conclusions. Those are statements drawn from premises, which need to be laid out and supported. We argue the premises.

I learned that another podcaster also had an interview with him on YouTube, and they took the interview down based on “misinformation.” They did not list the misinformation, they did not provide support for their the censorship. They just decided that people could not be trusted with an actual argument. That kinda made me mad.

The only way to defeat a bad argument is to provide a better argument. Censorship is not a better argument. We can stamp our feet about book censorship, which we should. Censorship is a terrible idea. But it doesn’t stop with books.

I am happy that Spotify gave me the chance to consider all that was said. Essentially they are trusting people to make their own decisions, draw their own conclusions. As it should be.

Censorship is an attempt to control people in the worst possible way. It presents as altruistic. “We are protecting people.” It reeks of power, control, and authoritarianism. 

If an 8th grader is smart enough to critically examine forms of argument, I believe we can all do that. Let’s not accept censorship as a valid form of argument. In any arena.

Talking the Walk

We can all relate to having a hard day. There are things either swirling around or laying heavy somewhere deep inside. Sometimes we can’t even identify what is going on, but even if we know, we don’t always know what to do about it all.

Sometimes it helps to talk about it all. I think we can also relate to sitting with someone and sharing all the feelings. In that sharing, we usually don’t want solutions or advice. We certainly do not want to be fixed. We just want to be heard. Maybe we want a hug.

I was in counseling for a season to work through some trauma that I had been through. My therapist was my safe space to process all the emotions I had been going through. One day she commented that I didn’t seem to be embracing anything she was offering.

It confused me as well until I realized it wasn’t advice I wanted. What I really needed was space to process my thoughts and feelings out loud, without any fear of pushback for having those feelings. Maybe like many others, I had never really been able to do that. 

When we’re younger and face problems raising kids, or working through marriage difficulties, or career challenges, there are zillion books waiting to offer advice. When we’re older, the books are fewer. And we’re not always looking for advice because we understand that some things don’t have answers. They have pathways of acceptance. 

So we need an ear. It’s hard to process out loud when we’re alone. But a friend, or counselor, who will be an ear for our processing is invaluable. When we talk things out, we are sometimes surprised by what we say. Oh, I guess I’m feeling insecure, or fearful, or envious, or manipulated. Maybe we’re just sad and not in control of anything. Whatever the feeling, it might take a minute to figure out.

Knowing that we can all benefit from people who will do that for us, it would be good to remember we can do it for others as well. We can be the kind of friend (partner, co-worker, parent, child) who will just offer space for someone to process. Can we practice all the self control we can muster to not offer advice, or opinions, or fixes?

Unless someone begins the conversation with “I need some advice,” we should assume that we are simply a a safe space. We should stop and recognize the honor that comes with someone trusting us. And we should never violate that trust by coming in hard with opinions or advice. 

I don’t know if there’s a greater gift we can give to another than space for processing. When we don’t listen with the intent to reply, we can truly hear, helping the other push forward with their own thoughts. Gaps of silence don’t get filled with our own ideas because we are waiting for them to figure out theirs. It helps them feel loved, cared for, and worthy of our attention. 

Listening is the loud silence which communicates we are present, soft, and open. It helps the other step into feeling valued, heard, and seen. Mostly it helps them figure out what they are really going through. Talking helps with walking. A little steadier, a little more confident, and a little more loved.