Tag: hope

Sounds of Silence

As we get older, our lives often get quieter. Perhaps at times, even silent. What do we believe about the silence that can surround us during this season?

“Hello darkness my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again.” Hauntingly captivating or painfully paralyzing.

When we are younger, silence is often a welcome respite. I remember, raising five children, the times that I found myself alone in my home. I wouldn’t turn on music or do anything that might disturb that glorious sound of nothing.

But today, silence is often a reminder that retreating is no longer necessary. We may even be tempted to run from it, turning on music or picking up our phones. Perhaps we need to look at the quiet and get brave enough to sit with it. The question I try to answer these days is: What is silence holding in her hands? At this season in life, silence still offers us gifts.

1. One of the most important gifts that silence offers us is the space to craft a different narrative, one that will reorient our perspective and point our minds in a more purposeful and hopeful direction. We get influenced all day long by social media, news, family, drama of all types. We can get a sense of heaviness, not realizing how we even go there. It’s good to stop, identify our thoughts, and refocus where necessary.

2. Silence also offers us space to listen to our own heart beat, a heart that we can hear be full of gratitude for another day to lead our bodies in life. We allow (and sometimes force) gratitude to have the loudest voice.

3. Finally, and possibly most important, is the space to connect with God, or Love, or whatever it is that’s bigger than us. Because if we’re the measure of all that there is, our story will consume us. It was never meant to be our yardstick for measuring joy or happiness or contentment. So we stop to breathe deeply, meditate on all that is beautiful, pray. We change perspective.

Silence allows us to hear the deep longing of our own hearts. It’s centering, painful, and hopeful all at once.

I am learning to not only accept the hauntingly captivating beauty of silence; I am learning to embrace her hallowed space. Noise often cobbles together a storyline that’s less than encouraging. Silence allows us to identify the lies we hold about ourselves, especially relative to aging, and craft a story that’s more hopeful. We need that story and so do the people we touch everyday.

“Hello darkness my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again.” There’s a lot she has to share with us.

Friendships for Life. Or Not.

Life is hard. And complicated. Relationships so often help us navigate all that. But sometimes they are the source of that. I have had this conversation numerous times over the past months.

We all know people that were an important part of our lives.  And then small, very incremental, changes began happening. And we find ourselves no longer sharing the same experiences, feelings, or lifestyles. Very often, we become sad or confused, left wondering what went wrong with that relationship.

But the reality is that nothing really went “wrong.” Change will often break things down and put them back together again. Just not always in the same way. It’s challenging when friendships fall prey to this rearranging.

If we don’t realize that this happens to all of us, we can become resentful of the other person or left feeling guilty that we are somehow at fault for the changes. 

We’ve heard the adage, “Friends come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.” The problem arises when we think someone is a lifetime friend when things begin changing. That’s a tough one.

When life changes, and we no longer see certain friends every day like we used to, it’s natural for our lives to drift apart a little. That’s normal. Often, we will still find ways to get together, catch up, and enjoy each other. 

But then there are people who want more from us than we can give at this time. Or they relate with us from the perspective of who we once were. We often wish we could go back and pick up where we left off. But we usually can’t. The changes that have taken place dictate that’s not possible. 

It’s important to realize that it’s normal for relationships to shift. As hard as it is, we have to learn to release our expectations of what will be, without disparaging our memories of what once was.

Releasing someone we once thought would be in our lives forever, and not resenting them or feeling guilty because that has changed, is a sign of growth. We grieve the loss, express gratitude for what once was, and trust the future holds promise for the both of us. Not easy but sometimes it’s the only way to keep moving forward.

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 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.

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. 

Just One Yes

I was watching The Voice one night, and a contestant was asked what he would like to say to those watching his journey. He said, “Remember, no matter how many times you hear the word no, it just takes one yes.”

Great advice, I thought, to those waiting for their “turn” at something in life. But then I began thinking about my own life. Are there any yeses left for me? Not in a hopeless way, but in a realistic way.

I am not waiting for that perfect job, or opportunity, or relationship. I’m not waiting for my chance to do something big. I have been thinking about his words for a while because I always want there to be hope for more. It’s just that more looks different at this stage.

I began to realize that, at this point in life, there is plenty of more to be had. It’s just that it cannot come from others.

I want more peace, more kindness, more compassion. I want more stillness, more pauses, more wisdom. I want to give more, whether a hug to someone at work having a hard day, an ear to someone who needs to process thoughts, a meal to someone who needs some help, an actual handwritten card to to someone on our mind, a kind word to anyone because there’s no one who doesn’t need that.

So it still takes just one yes. The only difference is that at this season, it comes from within. It comes from giving ourselves permission to be completely authentic to the person we are becoming—kinder, wiser, more compassionate, less judgmental, more at peace with our circumstances and the world around us. 

It is basically saying yes to hope. We have a future that depends on saying yes to every possibility for more of what’s real, true, and beautiful. Because without that, we are living a life that focuses more on aging than thriving.

We can all hear a YES if we stop looking around us and listen to what’s already inside us. At the end of the day, let’s take note of the yeses we have heard. We may find we hold the secret to surprising ourselves with hope every single day.

The Final Bloom: Or Is It?

So I bought my Christmas amaryllis early November. You heard the story. It didn’t bloom by that holiday, but it had a message for me. Bloom whenever the hell you want. No timetables, baby.

I had written that there is usually activity beneath the surface, but the eye just isn’t picking up on it. Suddenly the thing blooms and we are taken by surprise. It eventually dies back and we are grateful for the beautiful flower it brought forth.

But then, when we expect nothing at all, it blooms again. Well, I didn’t think you had another bloom in you, little guy. And there you go, showing us all that blooms happen even when we think there’s nothing left. This is the third time I’ve been surprised by him.

How many life lessons did that little bulb teach me? 

  1. We need to be patient and trust the process. Time is not our enemy.
  2. Just because the eye doesn’t pick up on activity doesn’t mean that none is taking place.
  3. There is a time for every purpose under heavens but usually we don’t get to choose that time;  that time chooses us.
  4. Maybe the one bloom isn’t the end of the story. Maybe it’s a series of blooms that pop over time when they’re ready. Just because we bloomed once doesn’t mean we’re done.

What we need is the hope that everything resting inside of us will pop when the time is right. We were designed in love to hold so much beauty deep within. I thought that little flower was done, but then I noticed  a little green sprout at the base. I kept it in the light to see if it had anything left. Once again, the amaryllis bloomed.  

I feel a connection with this little flower. We talk and laugh and tell each other we are awesome. I got a lot of bloom left in me. Maybe we’ll both be a little beautiful, loud, and out of place. A perfect, if not at all predictable, time for every purpose under heaven.

Standing at the Starting Line

I recently started a part time job as a sales associate at a local home and garden store. Even though I had a lot of experience in other areas, I would be a “beginner” there. No training on a cash register, no idea where everything is, the one who would have more questions than answers.

Honestly, I feel like I’m starting over in just about every area of my life. That starting line isn’t the same as it was in the past, however. When we are older, we get to bring the confidence that comes from knowing all we have come through.

Sometimes we can look at how different everything looks and feel a little overwhelmed by it all. But it helps to remember that we are reinventing ourselves and these challenging transitions allow for some wonder to slip into our lives. This quiet confidence provides a beauty and a strength which is easily passed on to others. And that is its own reward.

So I’m bringing a smile and a warm hello to all who enter the store. I might have to ask for help at every turn, but I’m not frustrated by that. I am getting to learn new things and meet new people.

I can look backwards and forward from this point because even though I’m starting over, my “success” this time is measured by my confidence. No longer by acceptance or external validation.

True confidence does not come from knowing everyone will like you, or give you the job, or invite you to the event, or give you the award. It is knowing that even if none of those things happen, you will be ok.

For me, this isn’t just about a new job. It’s about new eyes, a new heart, new enthusiasm, and a new hope.

Every morning, the sun says, “It’s time to begin anew.” Every single time, it brings beauty along with it. I see you, my friend. I’m feeling the same way. Let’s go start anew and watch the beauty unfold as we go..

Things Frosty Knew

“Frosty the snowman knew the sun was hot that day. So he said,
“Let’s run and we’ll have some fun now before I melt away.'”

A shift in the atmosphere can shift everything. Frosty knew that “the sun was hot that day” and the shape of things was about to change. It doesn’t say that everyone else knew, though. They were likely enjoying the snow thinking Frosty would be with them forever.

I think back to so many moments of my life that I thought were forever. Carefree childhood days, walking our high school halls, being home with toddlers, having children asleep in their beds, friendships and communities, being in a pandemic…

In good times and in hard, we can think the “snowman thing” will last forever. But seasons change. And so does the shape of life. It looked one way. But the “hot sun” changed it up. It’s often hard to visualize what the next season will look like, the one that comes after the melting away.

But though the “hot sun” will forever change things up, melted away things are never the final word. Transformation and renewal hold that honor, and that gives us hope through every shape shifting change.

There is always renewal built into changing shapes. Light, hope, and  peace break forth so that melted things will not be our focus. God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay…

When Frosty left, he said, “Don’t you cry, I’ll be back again some day.” Obviously it wouldn’t be the same Frosty. A different version of life springs forth when everything changes, and we can trust that tidings of great joy are wrapped around that form.

Perhaps we can learn something from Frosty; he seemed to know things. Seasons change and today will not always look the same. If we can trust that our present season is purposeful, and that it involves rest and renewal, we can have hope for today. Just maybe it will give us the courage to “run and have some fun.”  And a little fun is always a good idea.

Holding on to Hope

“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” ~Desmond Tutu

Trying to make sense out of this season…there is so much swirling around us. It can be hard to wrestle with all the thoughts that fly at us in a day. 

I had been reading a book by Henri Nouwen, spiritual writer and theologian, and I identified one of the swirling thoughts. A friend had asked him if he thought humanity would survive the century. A question certainly relevant today.

“Important for me is not if our civilization will survive or not but if we can continue to live with hope.”

He went on to say that we must always live with hope. And in spite of all the surrounding chaos, we have to avoid the temptation of despair, becoming more aware that God is present. Or a greater Light. Or the compelling force of Love.

And I realized how easily I let go of hope. In spite of all “the surrounding chaos,” all the challenges I face personally, all the things I can’t seem to fix, all the seeming wrong in this nation, all the scandals, lies, vitriol rhetoric, division, hatred, and fear, we must remember a bigger perspective.

Whatever we face personally or as a nation, there is something bigger than us. God is with us. Light and Love guide the universe. Every single day.
May we continue to live in hope. It matters.