On Purpose: Getting Lost

"Are you a workaholic?" A newer friend asked with sincerity in the middle of a party.

"No, but I used to be..." I replied.

We were sitting on the sofa in our friend's house catching up a bit when the conversation went deep. I like deep, so I was in my element.

"It's really just a busy season and I knew it was coming. Now that I'm in it, I'm noticing how long my days are and how much capacity I have to accomplish again. But I am tired right now. It's a lot." I added.

She nodded and I continued, "Busy is different than what it used to be because my motives have changed as I've gotten into the roots of why I did what I did back then..."

You could say I was lost for a long time and a few years back, I began to find my footing again. I've been reflecting on this conversation as I prepared to write for the week, considering what it means to be where I am now versus where I was then.

From where I sit now, it seems I had to get lost in my work to discover who I am and what I was really made for in this life. I have an appreciation for the years I lived focusing on what people thought of me and the seasons when proving myself worthy was a way of life. I have compassion for myself in the places where I experienced gaps in real areas of need like being loved and belonging. It's fascinating to uncover what we do to fill in our own gaps in this life... And perhaps more so, amazing to learn how even the bad can shape us for good as we heal and move forward.

These days getting lost has taken on new meaning for me. Once my motives were identified and ironed out through a lot of personal transformation, I started imagining a future I knew I wanted but never knew how to cultivate. Of course, it's still a process, but getting lost here has looked a whole lot like trying new things. For one, when I left the non-profit world almost four years ago, I focused my business consultancy in a 'project management' direction and set aside major time to write the draft of my first full book manuscript. Within the first year and a half I understood that while I was employing skills that came naturally to me, I wasn't thoroughly enjoying most of the work I was taking on. It was risky to pivot my business to focus more in areas of strength and passion but I reached a point where it was more painful to stay the same than to pivot. While I'm still working hard to grow it, I can't express how worthwhile it has been to make the changes I've made. 

Getting lost has also meant that I've taken on side roles that met specific needs for me along the way. It has been so freeing to choose what I've needed instead of letting a role define me or my value. I took one position because the projects I'd taken on at the time had me working alone often. As an extrovert, I was experiencing a huge deficit in energy level which was actually negatively affecting my work. So, I opted to give quite a number of hours weekly in a job that didn't pay much, but afforded me the opportunity to work with people all of the time! While I was there, I gained insight into their organizational structure and what worked well and what didn't work well. I learned a ton. It helped me and I hope it helped them to have me there.

In another role I've recently stepped into on an interim basis, I'm learning a whole new skill set in business—accounting. Truth be told, this particular area feels like the antithesis to my natural wiring. In college, I felt like I was pretty terrible at it, actually. My grades were mediocre, at best, and I didn't think I had a knack for being able to understand it. Coursework in accounting was required to attain my marketing degree, so I couldn't avoid it. And, here I am 17.5 years later, working in a capacity where I'm learning pieces of it more intentionally. Life is funny... This might sound strange, but It's actually awesome to be in over my head. I know the work I'm doing now will help me in the future as I learn this new 'language' and better understand structural considerations for billing, payments, vendors, systems and more. It's pretty wonderful, actually (even on the days when I totally mess something up).

Getting lost here, in these side roles, has been an important piece in my journey forward. The intentionality required to get lost in order to move forward and have needs met is key. Who knows where we'll be a few years, after all? But what if we focus on what's in front of us, serving others and growing as people? A lot of good can come from putting ourselves in places and positions that are needed today—for ourselves and for others.

So...

• Have you gotten lost lately?
• What does it look like for you?
• Is it helping you to stay stuck or to move forward?

On Purpose: Your Talents

I had the privilege of experiencing a modern parable a few weeks back. Early in the morning, I arrived at a place in the city where I spend time each week. Having not planned well for breakfast, I popped into a local spot and purchased an egg and cheese biscuit. On my way in, I noticed two men outside and wondered if they'd like some breakfast. I let the thought pass for the moment, unsure if the gesture might be taken well. But even after I purchased just one, I kept thinking about purchasing a total of four biscuits and wondered why. 

A short while later, I was outside munching on mine, taking in the surrounding area while watching cars pass by as people headed to their work for the day. Another man approached from a side street and took a seat nearby. I thought, "Ah, four biscuits..." I made my way back to the restaurant and ordered the additional three. 

Taking them outside, I walked to the man who had most recently arrived. "Good morning!" I said. "I wondered if you'd like some breakfast?" He quickly pulled away from me and placed a hand up between the two of us. His "No," was firm and insistent. I felt a bit surprised, but shook my head in understanding, smiled and wished him a good day. I had three biscuits remaining.

I next approached the second man who sat on another bench close by. Repeating my greeting, he looked up, adjusted his headphones so he could hear me and I proceeded to ask my question. He looked first to me, then to the bag and shrugged his shoulders saying, "Okay." I handed him the biscuit, smiled and wished him a good day. I had two biscuits remaining.

The third man sat apart, further across the plaza. I approached him and noticed he was sleeping. Hating to interrupt but determined to offer him breakfast, I said, "Excuse me..." He woke with a start, then eased. I repeated the greeting I'd offered to the others. He leaned closer and asked a question I didn't understand at first. He softly asked again, "Do you think I should try it?" His eyes were full of kindness and curiosity. I was caught off guard by his manner and his question as I replied, "Oh yes... I mean, I think they're very good. I got it from right over there..."

Shaking his head in agreement, I smiled broadly, "Oh, there are two in here and they're both for you if you'd like them..." He accepted. I introduced myself and asked his name. Giving him the biscuits, I wished him a good day and left shortly thereafter. I had no biscuits remaining.

This entire experience got me thinking again about our talents. Each of us is offered something in this life which, in turn, gives us something to offer back. If we consider the biscuits as talents entrusted to us, like the first man, we can dismiss the invitation to take hold of them and thereby refuse the enjoyment that comes from using them.

Like the second man, perhaps some of us lay hold of our talent, but we're sort-of neutral about having it. Maybe we're glad to have the talent, but we don't think much of the gift or understand the intention behind it. Perhaps it doesn't really matter beyond what we can personally gain from it.

Like the third man, perhaps we want to know more. We show genuine curiosity and interest in the offering. We seek to understand what it is before taking hold of it with delight.

Who do you relate to in this story?

I was really inspired by the third man. He sought to relate to me over the gift and when he took it as his own, his face showed the delight of the moment. I promise that I do not hold judgment for the other two men, it's just that my experience with the third man stirred something inside of me. I honestly wished that I had more biscuits to give to him. It was a joy to be generous with him because he took interest in the gift and received it in a way that totally increased the joy of the encounter. 

My experience also caused me to reflect on what it means to reject or embrace our talents. In the first man's case, he was given nothing because he had no interest in it. Though the gift was right there for the taking and there are many ways he could have used it, not only did he refuse the offer, but he rejected any good that may have come from its acceptance. 

The second man received one talent. He could easily use it to take care of his personal need and be satisfied. He could also enjoy part and share a part of it. He immediately had at least a couple of options when it came to next steps. His decision to take hold of it mattered. It opened up new possibilities for him.

The third man gained even more talents. Given his openness that led to my desire to give him both, he was securely positioned to share what he had been given. Not only because of the number of talents he received but because he gained understanding about what he was receiving. He could take the knowledge and do even more with it.

In a way, I started with nothing, too. I was given the opportunity to step into more because I faced a personal need. That very need led me to consider the needs I noticed around me. Not only that but when my need was being met, I was again confronted by the needs of those around me and I felt more care for the people in my path. This moment was the opportunity to grasp the "more." For me, the "more" led me to greater joy, connection, and hope because it led me outside of myself and toward others. All of this from four little biscuit sandwiches... 

The beauty of all of the above is how none of it required any sort of grand plan or use of extensive resources. It required eyes to see and a willingness to connect and share. I still think I'm the one who gained the most from the experience that morning. Those men and those delicious biscuit sandwiches reminded me of the greater impact that can come when I employ my own talents in small, but purposeful ways. 

So...

• What need, large or small, is being highlighted in your life right now?
• Does anyone else around you have a similar need? (Note: You might have to guess at it/make an assumption and move outside your comfort zone to understand more.)
• What would it look like for you to employ who you are, or the talent(s) you've been given, to see your own need met as well as the needs of another?

When it comes down to it, I honestly believe that living our purpose simply involves us living with open eyes and hearts. You'll notice different things in your environment than I would. When you and I joyfully step into these places of opportunity, we offer something so unique and important to the world around us. Our talents matter. Whether time, actual abilities, resources, etc... 

As a quick aside, other people's responses don't limit your ability to offer your talents. People are where they're at for a reason. We can embrace and love them right then and there regardless of their receptivity to us. A friend of mine often says how there's always one more thing about someone else's story that we don't know... We can choose to stay in hope and joy even when the response is not what we expect (or desire). 

Now... What do you say that you and I get to work employing and sharing our talents today? I can't wait to hear what you learn and who you connect with as you step out, on purpose. 

On Purpose: Making It

"If you're not doing something you're passionate about, bring your passion into it."

—John Rivers—

A few weeks ago, I went to hear a local entrepreneur share his story on the journey into his purpose. My head ached a bit from nodding in agreement for the full hour—let's just say that I resonated deeply with his story. He shared poignant insights, including the quote above, about what it takes to make it into our purpose. It was so encouraging to hear someone who changed careers, after decades in his last, unpack how he landed right where he was meant to be. 

The main messages I felt freshly encouraged by from his talk were these:

• Often, we're motivated by realities that are in direct opposition to our actual purpose (e.g. money, security, incongruent outlook on success, etc).
• Learning ourselves takes time, but we may just find that we also know ourselves pretty well already if we're willing to take a good look in the mirror.
• Who we were in our childhood isn't so different than who we're meant to become as adults.

The truth is, we may not be currently living our exact purpose in the way it will unfold over the course of our lives. But, that doesn't mean that we cannot bring meaning and hope to our days. In fact, when we have clarity on what we're made for, we can actually inject that purpose right where we're living.

For example, when I was little I loved being with my friends, talking and looking pretty. I laugh at the latter because, well, what in the world? BUT, the truth is, a beautiful aesthetic is still of great value to me, both as a person and in the way I develop my surroundings. I love to be with people and hear their stories. It brings me joy to be helpful by seeing the people in front of me and drawing connections between who they are and how they matter to the world. People, conversation, and beauty are foundational pieces of my life today. And while I've developed a lot of clarity on my purpose over the years, simply having these three pieces of understanding to "run with" enable me to focus well in my days—they're a great launching point. 

We've talked before about the small steps it takes to achieve our goals and dreams. Living our life's purpose is not separate from this reality. We must start somewhere. Identifying what motivates and encourages us, what bothers us and what brings us life will provide a foundational understanding of where we're headed. And when we're striving for our more and taking care of ourselves along the way, we also must consider what is true of our lives in the present.

A great friend provided helpful advice for me in my early twenties. She said I ought to try as many things as possible in my career and curated experiences, in particular. It was time to explore and better learn about me. In my early thirties I had a much better understanding of who I was, but honestly, the wins and failures I'd experienced in my twenties taught me lessons that, in turn, soured my motivations. They became skewed by what I thought success should be in my life based on a pretty insecure foundation. I had these ideas of how I wanted to be viewed and what my contributions ought to mean to others. In the process, I really lost sight of who I was and who I wanted to become in vital ways. Good advice paired with an insecure me taught me a lot... 

Like John Rivers, I had an awakening but my path still wasn't clear. Over the past five to seven years, I've developed a deeper contentment with not knowing how it all turns out because I've learned who I want to be. I now know that I'm investing well in that bright future. Each step brings deeper clarity and understanding. Every new turn in the road feels like an adventure, not a new piece of uncertainty. 

My favorite phrase for my own journey has become this: Life is a great adventure! I say it as often as possible to remind myself of my choice in outlook. I've been learning to embrace what I don't know as an opportunity for learning and transformation. 

Truth be told, most days I mean it and some days are still hard. I find that no matter how happy we are about who we're becoming, from time to time we're going to encounter circumstances that challenge our contentment and hope. But, we don't make it into our purpose without challenges. We make it there by reminding ourselves of the truth and staying the course. (It also doesn't hurt to surround ourselves with people who tell us the truth on our dark days, too...) To do all of this, we have to know what the goal of the course is... After all, if we haven't defined who we're becoming, it's going to be hard to stay committed in the hard times.

And for the record, I really believe you're going to make it. I'm rooting for you. Please let me know when you'd like my help along the way.

So...

• Do you know what you were made for and what it will take for you to become that person?
• Have you ever thought about what you liked to do as a child and how that applies to life today?
• Are the current realities of your life aligned with who you want to be long-term?

Our Purpose: Personal Health

Last weekend was an absolute blur. Packed from start to finish with people plans, I marveled at my capacity to do it all. I've recently adjusted my weekly work rhythm and in this type of season, I'm typically more tired than not. But not last weekend. I felt energized, present in my life, and despite a blip of disappointment that arrived on my radar, hopeful.

Sunday morning a friend came over for coffee. I was up early to try my hand at converting my favorite protein-packed snack recipe from banana nut into pumpkin muffins. Baking away, I noticed how happy I was to be trying something new by expanding my options for a healthy on-the-go bite in my week. It was fun to be back in the kitchen and to later share those muffins, coffee, and stories with my friend.

I don't know about you, but I often experience seasons when I'm a little more aware of my physical health. My nutritional choices play a huge part in how I feel from day to day, of course, but I realize taking care of myself can be more involved than that. Personally, I like to give myself room to flex on how I maintain personal health from one season to the next. I'm someone who needs change to stay engaged. Some people need stability and more of an ongoing routine. Staying healthy has so much to do with knowing how we're wired and what is good for us in the season we're in.

My schedule change has me up between 5 and 5:30 AM these days. I had no idea how welcome this adjustment would be for me. My most alert and productive time is in the morning hours and I the shift has me working well with who I am. It has afforded me an earlier bedtime which has me feeling more rested overall. The quiet mornings have helped me to feel less rushed and more focused on what my day will become. Even after a long day of work appointments, I'm coming home and feeling energized to get out for a walk and picking up the house! And, instead of opting for more time alone after extra full days, last night I even reached out to a friend to see if she'd get out on that walk with me.

On top of this, I've been pretty aware of my sugar intake recently (including alcohol). I've decided to cut back again and focus more on eating natural sugars and getting more whole foods into my body. Don't get me wrong, you will see me with chocolate in hand here and there. I'm just choosing less of it right now. This decision has freed me up to say a good "yes" and a good "no" in my days. It has also created the space for me listen to that inner voice that tells me when I'm making a choice from a motive that will lead into life or death. All of this has left me feeling very encouraged.

If you can't tell, I'm sort of marveling at it all right now. I don't know about you, but sometimes I forget how simple it can be to have my needs met. Sometimes, a simple schedule change or the decision to give more attention to what I'm putting into my body is all I need to move forward with ease. I'm feeling freshly inspired as a result of these small adjustments. This inspiration has cultivated new ideas and solutions for the circumstances I'm facing both personally and professionally. 

To me, that's how all of this connects back to living on purpose... It's incredibly valuable to look at basic realities like our sleeping and waking time, our nutrition and our physical activity levels to make the necessary tweaks that will free us up into more energy and more hope in our days. When we're taking care of our personal health, we're positioning ourselves to create the future we're dreaming of and working towards. It's all connected. 

So...

• What practical steps are you taking to care well for yourself in the season you're in? Or: What practical steps will you take to care well for yourself in the season you're in?
• Consider the week ahead. Is there anything in your life/schedule that you will tweak to ensure you're rested, filled with energy and hope?

Take good care of yourself, won't you? You matter. Don't forget.

Storms: Onward

Image:  Photo by Max Langelott on Unsplash

The storm has come. It has passed. We've taken initial stock of what transpired as a result. We have rested and reflected. And now, onward... But what does that really mean?

One consistent thread I've noticed throughout my life is how from one storm to the next, I've figured out how to move forward. Life goes on, right? But I haven't always moved through the pieces of my experience in health or to fully heal. I used to live under a banner that said, "Get over it." This perspective set me into behavior where I "stuffed" what was real and didn't allow myself the space I needed to truly move forward as the storm wrapped up. Have you ever been there? You're over any thought of the storm and all you want to do is pick up the pieces and get out of there? BUT... 

• What if the storms we face in our lives actually position us to move onward into the best of lands?
• What if we glean from our experiences and allow them to transform us for the better?
• What if hope reigns and we put disappointment and any defeat imposed upon us in the wake of the storm away from us? 

It's not to say that we invalidate our experiences. No, not in the least. In fact, without looking deeply into what a storm triggered in us, took from us and how it has shaped us, we would miss the treasure altogether. But what if we legitimately decide that storms have no power to define us in any way that steals life and hope from us moving forward? 

Maybe it seems ridiculous or naive to live with this perspective. Perhaps you're not sure how to walk in this as your reality. If there's one thing I continue to learn over and over and over again in this life, it's that there's always another layer to uncover in my process of growth and transformation. Change occurs one step at a time, after all. To me, this is how we get to the place where we weather the storm in health and rest and ready ourselves for the "Onward!" 

At the end of the day, what it comes down to is our belief systems. If we give power to the storms we face in this life to devastate us, they will. It's not that life isn't filled with devastating circumstances. It's about our willingness and ability to be devastated by them. We are profound creatures. Our make-up is one of strength and courage. What we set our minds to, for good or bad, we achieve. Our perspectives literally shape our world!! 

And, instead of "handling" a storm by blaming our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors on our circumstances, what if we learned to take responsibility for them despite our circumstances? By taking responsibility for our response to what's happening (or what has happened), we tend to focus more on what we can do to move forward. We get creative, we develop solutions, we seek help, we heal. Plus, we are less likely to hurt the people around us as we navigate our way forward.

It's important to pause here and say: Sometimes we're literally in survival mode and don't have the capacity to sort through all of these layers, though. If you're there, it's okay. This just isn't the last word for you. You may need to come back when you're more fully rested to take a look at what your experience meant to you and go from there. It's a process...

Our individual journeys through each storm will be shaped by the growth and transformation experienced in the last. If we allow it, we grow stronger each time a new storm passes. Our feelings and experiences are valid. We just cannot allow them to rule us. I think we can learn this well over time. It also never hurts to have people in our lives who love us and are willing to tell us the truth. They are beacons of hope who can point out valuable "noticings" to us about our own experience and responses. When we think of moving onward, bringing them into dialogue about what that means and how that might look can be an invaluable decision.

So...

• Will you allow the storms in your life to position you to step into the best of lands by believing that the best is yet to come despite present circumstances?
• Will you allow the storms in your life to shape you for the better by allowing your character to be shaped and molded for the positive in the experience?
• Will you stay in hope by refusing to befriend disappointment and any suggestion that this storm marks your defeat as a person?

Let's dig deep into our experiences. Let's take responsibility for our responses. Let's heal for real. ONWARD.

Storms: The Deep Breath

Photo: Ryan Moreno

We've made it. The storm has passed. Typically, this is the time when we assess if there's any major or minor damage, determine our next steps and start moving forward. But, before fully jumping into the post-storm endeavors, please join me in taking a deep breath. 

When it comes to our post-storm health, I've found how it can be easy to get back into "normal" life without taking actual stock of how we're really doing. Wanting to put the storm behind us, we may rush ahead to wrap it up. We're usually attuned to realities in our environments, including the people around us and tasks that need to get done, but... What about the toll the storm took on our bodies, minds, and emotions?

In the days that followed Irma, those I encountered here in Orlando were tired and ready for our power to return. Slowly but surely, it did. Still, debris lined the streets (and currently does, actually) and I began to observe a shift in dialogue on social platforms as basic needs were met again. Most of the questions and concerns posted in my neighborhood group were about eradicating the memories of the storm by ensuring debris was quickly picked up from the curbs. The city, working hard to perform a myriad of tasks post-storm, encouraged us to notice that 4.5 months-worth of yard debris awaited pick-up by trucks that had limitations with workers who were already working deeply into overtime. That news was likely very unwelcome to some.

Just a few days prior to the storm, I'd booked a trip to Colorado and after a week post-Irma hopped on a plane headed westbound. My trip provided me with space and time to reflect. I had no idea how much I needed both. Given that life had mostly returned to "normal," I was amazed by how tired I was when I arrived. I spent no less than the first two full days of my trip in PJ's. Every time I thought of getting some work done, I opted to watch another old episode of Monk. (Anyone else out there who loves him??) 

The fatigue pointed to a larger perspective on the storm. My body wasn't ready to rush ahead. The achy, tired physical part of me was saying, "Hey there, stop for a while. Rest. Recover. You've just been through a big ordeal." But, the logical part of me was like, "That's over... You've gotten behind on all of the things! Time to get back to work!"

My Mom encouraged the rest. I felt like, "Are you crazy? Didn't I just get rest when everything shut down for a few days?" I may have also said something along these lines to her while omitting anything to do with crazy... You can see that it took me a while to take a deep breath, yes? But, she was right. My body was right. Even though we didn't experience the worst of the storm, everything leading up to it and the process of going through it meant something. Even if we didn't lose people or property, we lost productivity, some forms of connection, comfort, structure... And, our bodies needed time to grieve our losses.

Culturally, we're not very proficient in grief. We tend to move through it quickly and without much thought. This is a generalization, of course, but I have found it true in my experience with loss. We often don't identify our minor losses as pieces of death that we need to grieve, but we experience the fruit of burying them without gazing upon the face of what we lost. Agitation, impatience, anger, sadness, numbness, denial, exhaustion... Each of these showed up in post-Irma Orlando. I saw it on the roads, in the grocery stores, and in my newsfeed. What if we all took a collective deep breath, though? What would we notice? 

After soaking in 50 degree days and mountain air, I returned to Orlando. In the week or so since, I've taken a freshly infused joy in seeing the debris piled high on the curbs of my neighborhood. It's a reminder that it's okay to still feel the loss of control and comfort. It's okay to be tired right now. It's okay to take the days as they come and work hard but press more fully into rest. Browned leaves and tree branches remind me of those who have lost more than I have, too. I'm remembering how my love and time and resources are needed by others who are experiencing profound loss and need some hope. I'm not wishing the grief away today. I'm taking a deep breath and remembering what is important, what I need and who I am after seeing how I encountered my small losses.

And in the days to come, I'll focus on wrapping up this experience of loss. But for now, join me in taking a deep breath. The storm has passed. We are standing. Let's be willing to notice what it all feels like. Stay here for a while, won't you? Write, paint, draw, create a spreadsheet, share with a friend—be yourself—and employ your creativity to capture what it's like here.

Storms: The Quiet Before

Perhaps you've experienced it, too. The storm is soon upon you, but all around is calm. The flurry of activity required to prepare has ceased and as you look around, you realize you've done all that you can do. Now, you wait.

It's not that the waiting is easy, necessarily. Perhaps there's a tendency inside of you to move back into fear and anxiety, to worry about things you cannot control. The negative "What if's..." that we talked through last week might rear their ugly heads. Maybe you find a place of rest in the waiting. Still, the anticipation of the storm's arrival remains. For me, the calm before the storm has become a place in my life where I take a deep, deep breath.

My neighborhood was eerily quiet the morning before Irma arrived. Throwing on my sneakers, I headed out for a walk to get some fresh air and to see what was happening nearby. The lack of cars on the road was remarkable. The clouds swirled overhead and a notable breeze stirred tree leaves and branches into motion. All was quiet and calm. I relished the peacefulness, honestly. Irma was coming and there wasn't anything else I could do except await her arrival.

I felt so connected to my surroundings, aware of my feelings and alert on my walk that morning. It was like each cell within me was awake, taking notice of every detail. The air was cool and had a slight dampness about it. The construction near my house was put on hold and the tractors sat neatly on the lot ready for their next use. Police helicopters flew overhead capturing information from their bird's eye view, keeping all in check. 

In our culture, we don't often talk about surrender. If we do, it can carry a negative connotation. But I've been learning that as the storm approaches, surrender is one of the greatest postures I can choose. It's why I got out on that walk, actually. I realized that my preparation was complete and there was nothing left for me to do.

In surrender, I recognize what I can and cannot control. I choose not to worry about things that I cannot control. I activate the faith inside of me to tackle the fear I might experience. I rest—I actually choose to lay myself down knowing that all I can do now is ride out the coming storm. I get in touch with what is most important again. I remember that things can be replaced. I remember that I really won't know how it all turns out until the storm passes, but I can choose to weather it well. 

The calm before the storm affords me a wonderful opportunity to be. I get to relax into the quiet. I get to savor the sweetness of the space. Isn't it interesting how in the moments leading up to a storm, we experience a tangible stillness? I honestly believe this stillness exists to heighten our awareness of what's real and what's on the horizon. It's a place where we can see. So often, we do see the scary and the negative. But again, what if we focused on what we have and released what isn't within our grasp?

Last week, I flew out west and along the way I noticed thunderclouds gathering to form a storm. Their peaks were tall and beautiful. Sitting above them from my perch in the plane, I wondered what it would look like if we viewed storms from this vantage point consistently. What if we saw ourselves above them? What if we knew that even at their worst, we have the ability to rise above? We have the ability to choose this perspective in the calm.

So...

• What is the calm before the storm like for you?
• What do you notice about where your thoughts and your energy go?
• Do you find yourself at rest or reengaging with fear and anxiety?
• What would life look like if you viewed yourself above each storm that formed on the horizon? 
• How could this shift in perspective help you?

I'd love to hear your thoughts... 

Storms: Horizons of Hope

In the week or so leading up to Irma, I found it difficult to want to stay connected on social media. Words like catastrophic, monster, and devastating were being used to describe the impending storm. Fear was rising and spread like wildfire as people began to express their growing anxiety. With each new detail offered about the hurricane and the path it might take, preparation, evacuation and the safety of loved ones became a prominent focus. 

Offline, a friend's dad reported watching as a baker was delivering bread to the shelves of a local grocery store when he was rushed by a crowd, who picked the bread out of his hands before he had a chance to complete his work. News reports and social media posts showed stores emptied of water and lines of people waiting for resources that would help them to weather the storm. The perspective continually offered was one of lack—all of the build-up was incredible, honestly. 

It's not that it was a bad idea to stay informed and prepare for the storm. There's so much wisdom in doing what we know to be good and right when we have the means to see the storm on the horizon, after all. Personally, I had to limit my intake of the information and dialogue, though because panic and fear aren't life-giving friends. And, most of the news and the language used was positioned from those mindsets. Getting caught up in it seemed like a trap. 

When counseling and coaching people through fear and anxiety, I encourage them to let their thoughts go into the worst-case scenario. What if that terrible thing DID happen? How would you process through it? What would life become in the aftermath?

The truth is, there were some in our communities who experienced those very things. Our greatest fears about the storm and the damage it might cause became their reality. Perhaps we know these dear ones personally—their loss is unimaginable and we can now come alongside them in it. Perhaps we don't know them personally. While we might feel compassion from a distance, we may also feel thankful that it wasn't us... It's strange and messy to process through these complex experiences of grief and gratitude.

That said, most of us didn't experience our worst-case scenarios and I've been wondering where that leaves us as new storms will certainly emerge on the horizon in the future. Specifically, I wonder: 

• Did fear serve me? How?
• Did anxiety help me? How?
• What decisions did I make that left me without peace and hope as the storm approached?
• At the end of the day, did those decisions make my life better? Did those decisions make life better for the people I love?

I consider the same questions for the storms we are not prepared for in this life. When an unexpected storm is upon us, a different sort of fight or flight response is initiated for survival, but our choice to notice what's happening and live in fear and anxiety remains.   

In the past month or so, I've been adjusting my personal focus to the positive "What If's..."

• What if we make it?
• What if the damage won't be nearly as bad as the projections say?
• What if this is an opportunity for me to care well for the people around me?
• What if I bring peace into this scary situation? 
• What if the worst happens... And, what if this "seeing" is an opportunity for me to reconnect to what's most important right now?

As you look back at your experiences over the past few weeks, then around you to notice the storms you're currently facing, and finally, ahead of you, noticing the storms you see developing on the horizon, I encourage you to take stock of how you're processing through them.

Will you choose to befriend fear, anxiety, and panic?

Or...

Will you choose to befriend peace?

We really can maintain a hopeful view of the storm on the horizon, regardless of the anticipated outcome.

Rebuild to Restore

We're still talking a lot about walls these days and continuing to build them between one another to boot. There's a very poetic statement made by a man called Isaiah who lived long ago. He says, "You will be called the repairer of broken walls, the restorer of streets where people live." I wonder about the meaning of his words a lot these days. 

Judgment and condemnation are still easy choices for us right now. Our assumptions tend toward the worst as we inhale soundbites and regurgitate them all in the same breath. That bit might be sort-of impressive if it weren't so sad. I wonder how we move forward and when we'll genuinely decide that the fighting just isn't worth it anymore. And, not because the causes don't matter, but because we begin to see how they matter more than we know. 

The walls this man spoke of were walls of protection, previously existing boundary lines that had been removed through violence. Restoring them meant ushering people back into safety and care. Restoring them meant bringing people home to experience life. 

Home is a powerful reality. We can actually offer it wherever we go. It's meant to be a place of belonging, a refuge, an experience of being seen and a place to contribute. Not everyone grew up in safety, I know. But consider the ability we have in our lives to create spaces and environments where people are welcomed, restored, known and cared for well. Imagine what happens when, as individuals and business owners and employees and community members, we stand and say, "Hey, you're valuable... Help me to understand." And, "Let me help." And, "Here's how you can help." We're all needed, after all.

If you haven't guessed, this won't come as a surprise: I'm so weary of the "us" and "them." The worst of them on a bad day is all of us. The best of them on a good day is all of us. We're connected in ways that we can't measure. By the way, It works the other way around, too.

Instead of pointing out problems, let's design solutions. Let's ask questions. Let's get out of our comfort zones and go meet one of "them."  

Let's choose to rebuild and restore people back into life. Let's rebuild the walls of protection. Let's dismantle, not establish, structures that prevent people from experiencing safety and care. Let's get to work restoring the streets where people live by being good neighbors in whatever neighborhood we find ourselves in that day. Let's create companies that give back to our communities with a genuine intention for care and connection. Let's consider the true ramifications of our decisions on those around us. 

We wake up each morning with a fresh opportunity to contribute health and wholeness to the world. Our contribution begins in our very thoughts and the intention we choose for the day—for ourselves and the people we encounter. We can change so much simply by living powerful lives of restoration and care. It all begins with our personal decision to unwaveringly demonstrate our freedom. We can design new realities that ensure home is a protected place for all life to flourish. Let's get to it.