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 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... 

Stand Still in the Standstill

We sat facing each other in a not-so-busy salad spot. When it was my turn to share, self-professed external processor extraordinaire that I am, I blurted out all the questions and the doubts and the anxiety I'd been feeling. My friend, ever-patient and thoughtful, listened. When I finally took a long breath, she reminded me not to diminish the realities I have been facing, then shared how I'd just expressed what she was feeling in her own process. We laughed. She's as internal as I am external and I genuinely had no idea that her current experience was so closely relating to mine. I wasn't happy with the reality that she was struggling, too, but I sure felt thankful to know I wasn't alone. 

We went on to talk about the challenge to stay the course when faced with the ongoing uncertainties existing within this life in the in-between. She shared how she had recently been wondering what it meant to keep going when she didn't know that she could. I nodded profusely. Who wants to go back, right? But, how does one go forward when you feel like you don't know that you can? Then she offered this powerful realization she had recently:

"What if you just stand still?" 

We both teared up. Wow. What IF you just stand still? 

Standing still might seem terrible. I mean, aren't we supposed to make progress? After all:

Fake it till you make it. 

Don't give up.

Keep going.

At least these are the things I heard when I thought about making an intentional choice to simply stand still. And, there's merit to these thoughts. Sometimes, continuing to move forward through the challenges is the right course.

For instance, when she and I were standing in line to order lunch, I told her how I'm so not into eating salad or any green thing resembling salad right now. (And, I LOVE salad... I really do...) But, sometimes you eat the salad because you know your appetite will eventually catch up with what's good for you when you keep choosing it. When, like me, you're eating all of the sugar in sight (Jessica Bott Stress Behavior 101), there are times when you pull out a big leafy piece of kale from the fridge, wash it and eat it whole; or maybe you suggest that you and your friend meet to have lunch at the salad place, because that's what's good for you even though you don't want it. So, there's that...

But what if you're really at a standstill? What if you don't know that you can keep going, but you KNOW that you really don't want to go back from the place you've just left (or are leaving)? (...even if it would be so much easier just to go back and even if you really could go back.) 

Standing still in the in-between place isn't a declaration of failure. It's like a little pause. From this vantage point, we can swivel our gaze back in the direction from whence we came to remind ourselves that we don't want to go back. We can also look at what's in immediate proximity to us—we can notice what's real right here. Plus, we can continue to look ahead and contemplate where we're going. It's possible that we may just need a little breather to regain our courage and strength to take the next little step.

It's like mountain climbing. One summer a friend and I took a couple R&R days up in Vail after a conference we attended. Vail Mountain has this beautiful trail called Berry Picker and we set out early enough to tackle the climb and enjoy the view from the top before the afternoon thunderstorms would roll in. My life wasn't super great during that season and the 20-25 extra pounds on my body didn't make the experience easy for me. I can't count the number of times I had to stop on an incline to catch my breath, drink water and refocus. There were so many times I wanted to quit. I sent my friend ahead of me so she could enjoy the experience more fully without all of the rest stops. I remember feeling so much shame along the way.

I felt ashamed that I'd let myself grow so unhealthy.

I felt ashamed that I'd held my friend up along the way.

I felt ashamed that I couldn't do something well that used to come so easily for me.

I felt ashamed for feeling ashamed.

Have we talked about what a nasty and terrible "friend" shame is? We'll come back to that in the future. Suffice it to say, it was a hard day.

What I remember now about that experience, though is how I finished the hike. I didn't give up. I was slow and I was exhausted. BUT, when I reached the summit and took in one of my favorite views (as I laid on the ground panting as though my life depended on it, mind you), I felt hope. I experienced beauty. I reconnected with my friend and heard about her experience on the trail. When we took the gondola back down into the Village, I saw what I'd accomplished with fresh perspective. I'd climbed THAT mountain. The one right over there! It just took me a bit longer to summit, is all.

Have you been there?

Are you there now?

So...

Maybe like me, you've cut the tethering cord tying you to the consistent, safe place and you've already leaped from the cliff edge.

Maybe, like the friend I was having lunch with this week, you've lit the fuse and you're waiting for the big "boom" that's to come in the not so distant future.

In either case, maybe you just need to stand still in the standstill. The courage will come. The energy will return. You will regain your strength. You will move forward. When you can.

Instead of a list of questions this week, why not take a few minutes to be quiet. Listen to your heartbeat. Listen to your breath. Get in touch with your thoughts and your feelings. Remind yourself that it's really going to be okay. Somehow, some way, it will be. There is grace and there is mercy for you right here.

Life in the In-Between

Summertime throughout my childhood was marked by make-believe play, tv, drinking pop and afternoon thunderstorms. Mom and Dad both worked, and when we were old enough we were left in the capable hands of ourselves, under the supervision of my older brother. I have so many memories of those summers, but the thunderstorms stand out the most.

Day in and out, thunderheads would form high in the sky above us. The landscape would grow darker and darker as one set of menacing clouds joined another, forming one gigantic storm. The Rockies would change before our eyes, becoming less majestic and more foreboding. Then the thunder would begin with its powerful rumbles signifying the unleashing of the weather upon us. Bolts of lightning would light up the interior of the thunderheads and at times, shoot down beneath the cloud cover to strike where they may.  

Our German Shepherd would fight his way into the house and into the bathroom tub or down into the basement. He and I shared the same sentiment: "Get me out of here!" I'd run to the large window of our walk-out basement, facing the rolling range of the back acreage, to trace the line of clouds as far as my eyes could see to determine whether the familiar circular motion of a funnel cloud was forming or not. I'd watch the colors, hoping they stayed gray, free of the green haze that came from the atmospheric change signaling the possibility of a tornado.

When I caught a glimpse of a low, straight line along the cloud horizon that seemed likely to form a funnel, I'd run the 30 steps to my bedroom and prepare for the worst. Pulling my comforter, stuffed animals, pillows, Bible and a flashlight into my closet, I'd shut myself in and pray. Where were my siblings? I have no idea. I'd lose track of the reality that I wasn't physically alone, somehow. At the end of a storm, I'd resurface and trace the lines in the clouds, once again, to ensure all was safe. Life would go back to normal, on that side of the storm.

Growing older, I noticed how my posture towards these storms changed. In fact, I've grown to love and appreciate thunderstorms. There's something about the build up, the anticipation of the storm. When it comes, there's a release. The atmosphere shifts, often bringing cooler temperatures and a deep sigh. No doubt that storms can create damage, but this truth doesn't diminish the reality that there's something awe-inspiring about them. When they're over, I've seen how I have fresh perspective and appreciation for my life—just as it is.

I've been thinking a lot about storms as they pertain to our lives this week. We're standing in one piece of land for a time, then a storm moves through and gives us the opportunity to reflect on what we want, what we value. The aftermath has this way of revealing what we internalized in the middle of it, in the waiting. We see our lives and the land differently after waiting out a storm. 

Yesterday, a friend shared another metaphor with me— this one, involving archery. She shared how the arrow has to be pulled back to the place of greatest tension before it can be released in order to hit its target. When it's not pulled back far enough, it lacks the momentum required to make it to the bullseye. And, when a person isn't lined up correctly and releases the arrow too soon, it also results in a miss. Tension and timing are everything. 

Often, we don't want to experience the tension, or the storm for that matter. It's uncomfortable to stay put, so maybe we jump in too soon or hide away hoping it'll pass. Maybe we don't embrace the tension to the fullest extent because it's just too hard to stay in it. Mixed metaphors aside, today, I'm encouraging us to stay. 

New "seeing" awaits us on the other side of the storms we face in our lives. Perhaps we have the new ground in clear view, just ahead. Maybe we're wondering what it takes to cross the threshold, but we're experiencing the tension of being pulled back tightly in the waiting. We don't want to release the arrow too soon. We want it to hit the bullseye.

The waiting itself might seem like a storm. But, perhaps things aren't correctly lined up just yet. Wouldn't we rather wait so we might actually hit our target? Waiting can feel unproductive and painful. Believe me when I tell you that I live the reality of this truth regularly. I like to achieve and when I see the green lights in a direction, I'm ready to go. To be held back by a storm, or the appearance of a storm, feels awful. But, then I remember the beautiful aftermath... 

The air clears, there's a fresh vitality to the land and all of that build up created space for a wonderful release. Each time I take a step forward from this place, I really do experience gratitude—it's cultivated in me through the process. I find myself saying, "If only I had known..." 

So today, I remind you that you do know. You've been here before and you made it. It's not that you didn't struggle or that you walked away without being affected by the experience, but you lived. I think that's the point.

Life is full of tension and storms. What matters is our view of them and what we allow them to accomplish in us. We cannot take new ground in our lives without this tension and without the storms. They actually show us what we're made of and give us the opportunity to authentically live from that place by showing us what we really, really want. Not only that, but they reveal who we really are at the core.

So...

• Where are you experiencing a storm today? 
• What do you think about it? What do you feel about it? 
• What would it mean for the trajectory of your life if you willingly stayed the course through the tension you're experiencing there? 
• Will you?