The Sound of Hope

I didn’t see the entire speech President Obama made in Tucson Wednesday night, but I saw a lot of it. Regardless of one’s politics, I think it would be difficult to find fault with his message. In my opinion, those who continue to put up walls of division and refuse to compromise are completely irresponsible. Where do people get off thinking they can just refuse to hear an opposing view? It’s like working on a group project at work, or being in a marriage, or chairing a committee at your church, you don’t get your way all the time. HELLO! In fact, often no one person gets his or her way, but rather a new and better way is forged that is an amalgamation of thoughts, ideas and energy. That’s the beauty of working together – synergy – together we are greater than the sum of our parts. But if no one is willing to let go of their idea, or to listen to the idea of another, synergy cannot manifest.

In any group endeavor it’s essential to first identify the goal. Whether that goal is to create a successful new product or to maintain a loving relationship, identifying the interest held in common marks the point where beliefs, efforts and energies meet and begin to build momentum. It’s no different on a national scale. To truly move forward in this country we have to find a point where our beliefs converge on a goal that we seek and then move forward from there, keeping the mission in mind and always referring back to it if we begin to drift too far in one direction or another. If the only point on which we can agree is that we all want to be safe, then that’s where we start.

You see, I’m of the opinion that we all have much in common. Oh sure, we’re all individuals with unique gifts, but, let’s face it, we have a lot of similarities. We want good health care with a realistic price tag. We want our kids to grow up and have opportunities to be successful in a country where people feel safe and valued and free. We want to be heard and acknowledged when we have a concern. We want to believe that our leaders want what’s best for us, as a nation, more than they want to be a sound bite on CNN or Fox News.

Maybe I’m crazy, but I think all that’s reasonable and possible. Here’s the challenge though, it requires us to set aside egos and work together toward the goal, being willing to do whatever we can to get there. That’s likely going to include some painful letting go and some uncomfortable reaching out, but there is no other way. Anyone who has worked successfully with others knows that. There will never be true progress without concessions, compromises, and sacrifices. Those things aren’t glamorous, for sure, but they are real and worthy efforts toward a better outcome that will last more than a day or an administration. That’s what I heard Wednesday night and to me it sounded like hope.

Bring on the New Year

This year our Christmas tree dried out very quickly. By a few days after Christmas it was so brittle I decided to commence with the undecorating process. Like usual I approached the task with a mix of dread and anticipation. I hate the tedious taking off of ornaments and then picking up 3.2 million prickly pine needles. All that before even beginning to drag the not-so-evergreen out the door, spewing aged water and 4 million more needles during the exodus.

But, anyway, it has to be done, so I do it. The good part, the part that I anticipate, if not with true eagerness at least with a little bit of relief, is how big and clear my living room looks once the tree’s out. It feels absolutely expansive and suddenly cleaner and lighter. It was especially so this year. I’m telling you, I felt like doing a cartwheel. And if not for the risk of breaking a hip, I would have.

Instead I stood there feeling all positive about the dead tree out of the room and the open space and light where it had been. In that moment I realized I could stand to do a little mental undecorating of my attitudes and angst. I decided to drag out some of the dusty, brittle, and outdated worries and disappointments packed away in my mind’s attic, and toss them right out there in the side yard alongside my now horizontal Christmas tree. And from that moment forward I’ve been a new woman, humming and skipping through blissful days.

Well, okay, that’s not exactly how it went, but I have been making efforts to do more “out with the old” to make room for some new and it has been good. A new year is the right time to realize that you can’t grab an opportunity if you’re using both hands to hold onto the past. All that undecorating broadened my living room and my horizons simply by clearing out what was finished to make room for what’s becoming. The space is there and so are the possibilities. I think it’s going to be a really happy new year.

Contentment

You know how sometimes a word or a phrase will start popping onto your awareness? It seems really random. You haven’t noticed that letter or word configuration in ages and then suddenly it shows up in the newspaper, someone speaks it in conversation, and you come across it in an article in Oprah. For me, recently, that word is contentment.

In contemplating it, I’ve decided that contentment is a word that’s just the teeniest bit ambiguous. I mean we all want contentment, right? But is it enough? Let’s face it, it could even be considered on the bland end of the well-being spectrum. It’s not euphoria, or happiness, or even serenity. In fact, when you compare contentment to euphoria it seems, well, a bit lame and boring. Hmmm.

I decided to look it up in the dictionary. Contentment – The state of being contented: satisfaction. So, naturally, I had to look up the definition of Satisfaction – 1. a. The fulfillment or gratification of a need, desire, or appetite. b. Pleasure derived from such gratification.

That got me thinking (always a tenuous excursion) about whether I’m satisfied with my life and, if so, whether that defined my contentment.

What I’ve decided to take away is that contentment, for me at least, is great -- for the short term. I really enjoy feeling satisfied with my work on a project, with my spiritual development, or with my personal relationships. But what I’ve gradually discovered is that to be ultimately “content” I need to keep moving forward.

My contentment is not about long-term status quo, but rather embracing satisfaction for today, this week, or even this month, but then stretching out there a bit when the itch of dissatisfaction starts wiggling its way onto my internal radar. That stretch toward a new goal or a greater level of connection pulls me forward to the next plane of my contentment and that’s what leads to truly satisfying gratification.

Euphoria may be the fleeting Angelina Jolie of well-being, but contentment is the Jennifer Aniston-- dependable, reassuring, and real.

I’ve concluded that my contentment, by its very nature, remains a work in progress, but I’ve come to realize it’s the trek itself that I find gratifying.

Time + Distance = No Change

Not long ago I had the great good fortune to be able to spend two evenings in a row with most of my closest high school friends. While it hasn’t been decades since we’ve been together, it doesn’t happen often, so two nights in a row was a pretty big deal. And pretty big fun.

One thing I truly find amazing is how quickly we reconnect. We fall right back in step almost like we were walking down the halls of HHS again. We are all such distinctly different personalities, living a variety of lifestyles, yet something melded all those years ago, forging a bond that remains unshaken by time, trials, distance, or absence. Perhaps it has something to do with sharing the formative years when everything from boredom with school, to one’s love life, to friendship, was felt with tremendous intensity.

Or maybe it’s because we share something so precious that it’s impossible to reproduce. We share a history. That allows us to reconvene with a gratifying level of acceptance. There is no judgment between us, at least none that I perceive, and no pretense either. It would be pointless. We know each other too well. We are, after all -- us. We were there during sleepovers and séances, crises of the heart and/or grounding, first beer, first love, and, well you know the rest. We were together at school in classes and clubs. After school we heightened the energy crisis by ceaselessly cruising “The Ville.” We’d finally go home only to get on the phone to touch base again. We would have considered Facebook a gift from God.

It wasn’t always idyllic. In fact it often wasn’t, but our friendships were breathtakingly vital to us. We absolutely needed each other in ways that I can’t say I totally understand, but I certainly do recall with complete clarity.

Our group has splintered a bit geographically, but emotionally? Never. We stay in touch, sporadically with words, but always with hearts. We have lived enough to know that life can be a tenuous proposition. People change and friendships end. But that doesn’t worry us because ours are committed relationships. We’re in it for the long haul. We accept what’s past, offer support in the present, and hold hope for a bright and bountiful future.

I am blessed to have my ya ya sisters in my tribe. You know who you are. Thank you. Love you. Always.

Signs Signs Everywhere Signs

I‘m one of those people who is always looking for a sign. That leads to two things. First, I wonder if I see signs everywhere. Second, I over-analyze to the point when I suspect none of them are really signs after all. Yes, I’m aware there is probably a DSM-IV diagnosis that fits, but let’s not go there.

I spend a lot of time and energy pondering the meaning and purpose of my life. Am I doing what I’m supposed to be doing in terms of vocation? Am I serving my highest purpose? All the while I’m parallel praying that I’m not! Thus, I seek THE SIGN. I just wish it would come in the form of certified mail to remove any risk of misinterpretation.

The other morning when I got to the office, I immediately noticed a teeny configuration of yellow eggs (at least I think they’re some kind of egg) in the shape of a fish on my window. What? See the attached photo for yourself. No? Squint a little bit. Ah, there it is, right? I figure this must be a sign, kind of like the spider web in “Charlotte’s Web,” or the Virgin Mary toast. But what does it mean? Is it a sign of rebirth (if they are in fact eggs)? Is it a spiritual omen (think Jesus fish)? Should I “swim” away from my desk? Am I destined to be a marine biologist? Actually, probably not that one given my phobia of green water.

I continue to search for potential fish significance, but I remind myself that while it’s fine to wait for new directions and adventures, it’s most important to actively participate in my present life – every single day. My world is filled with signs of abundance and love and I’m oh-so-grateful for them. In my search for ever-greater fulfillment and satisfaction, I must not forget to acknowledge and appreciate the great gifts I’ve already received.

In all honesty, I think I’ll always seek new directions, no matter what adventures unfold. I guess that’s not a bad thing. Whatever signs I get, whether via mailbox or window aquarium, I just want to be ready and aware, so I get it right. So far I’m not getting any strong vibes on what the fish means. I’ll keep you posted if anything shows up on my toast in the morning.

Holding On and Letting Go

Recently I was pondering a situation about which I felt conflicted. I was practicing looking at it objectively from all vantage points, which is, of course, impossible. Still, I pretend. Anyway, while wrangling it all around in my head, it occurred to me that the entire dilemma could be pared down to the very basic issue of holding on versus letting go. I found that enlightening. I was shocked that it could be quite that simple. So, I extrapolated a bit and I came to the realization that life is absolutely filled with contrasts that, when stripped down to their bare essences, are about that same dichotomy.

Anger is a prime example of the struggle between the part of you that knows it’s an exhausting and destructive force that you should let go of, and the part of you that wants to hold on to it and cradle it against your heart like a newborn. Holding on to anger lets you feel right, strong, and superior. Letting go just lets you feel good.

Fear is another example. Most of us have some fear of change. We hold on to it to keep from having to push forward and stretch out of our box. We may call it caution or practicality or being sensible, but changing the name doesn’t really change the emotion. We hold on to fear because it’s a known quantity and it’s familiar. It’s like being in 3rd grade and hanging out with the mean kid who calls you names and always makes you run after the ball. Better to hang with him and be abused than to risk dumping him and ending up alone in the unknown. Holding on --- letting go.

One of my personal favorites is hanging on to the past. Who among us hasn’t got that down to an art form? It’s as if we think that by mentally rewriting the script about a bazillion times, we might someday created a revised version of reality. Um-hm, that’s a great use of time and energy.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the ever popular parent/child conundrum. Children grow up and struggle to find the navigable path between holding on to Mom or Dad and letting go to step into their own world. And, you know it’s coming, parents have to face their own (much, much more challenging if you ask me) struggle of holding on to the most precious beings God ever contemplated, to keep them safe and secure and close, versus letting them go so that they might take a risk, fall flat, and become active participants in creating their destiny. Whew! It’s enough to wear me out.

For the last few years I’ve been seeking to learn more about balance. Yin and yang. I believe holding on and letting go is just another verse to that song. Neither holding on nor letting go can be absolute, but rather both function as counterpoints to help us find that sweet spot of equilibrium and contentment. Sometimes it still feels like a walk on a high wire, but I’m learning to relax my grip and move forward into the challenge.

Just Because

I’m not a particularly political person. Oh, I have opinions, of course. Some of them are well thought out and researched, others not so much. Sometimes it’s just because. That’s one good reason you’ll seldom catch me in a debate. It’s pretty hard to defend your stance when the crux of your argument is “just because.” But the oil cataclysm in the gulf has left even me feeling vocal. No doubt that is due in part to my family having visited there early in April. We visited Fort Morgan Beach in Alabama. It was absolutely beautiful. We walked the white sand beaches and watched dolphins play in the waves. Behind the dolphins, interrupting the horizon, were oil rigs. Now, watching the endless billowing flow of underwater oil and the dazed and oil-doused wildlife on CNN, I feel a keener sense of loss, as though that ecosystem is somehow more “mine,” than I would have felt a year ago.

I don’t have the answers are as to how to rescue this area of water and land and its living organisms, including the people whose livelihoods are now obliterated. I’m not sure it’s possible. But one thing I feel especially sorrowful about is that the whole country is focused now and demanding action, but what about before? Why didn’t we demand more active formulation of alternative energy sources? Just imagine the strides forward we will make if we invest just a fraction of what will be spent on this recovery on promoting wind farms or use of solar energy instead. We are complacent, soaking up ever-increasing billions of gallons of oil and empowering those who will reap monstrous profits from our consumption.

I drive as much as the next person. I like my home warm in the winter and cool in the summer. I know it’s not going to be easy, and I know it’s not going to solve the big problem, but I’m willing to make some changes, including learning more about alternative energy sources. And if anyone asks me why, I’ll have more to say than, “just because.”