Laying Down the Gavel

Posted on Wed 09 15 by Lisa Sorensen

9 September 2015

And when the black thread breaks, the weaver shall look into the whole cloth, and he shall examine the loom also.   ~Kahlil Gibran, from The Prophet

laying down the gavel

I’ve been thinking about judging lately.

Several weeks ago I realized in a clear, turning-point kind of way that making quick and often negative judgments was a bedrock quality of my personality.

I didn’t like seeing this.  But, recently I’m finding that I can look at something like this and not shrink from it, not sugar-coat it, not rationalize it.  And also, not beat myself up over it.  Just notice it.  And start exploring it.

What I’m finding is that I resort to judgement unconsciously, almost instinctively, when I’m anxious, vulnerable, hurt, tired, pushed beyond whatever limits I have at the moment.

A few days after recognizing this, during a morning meditation, a word dropped into me, like a stone into a still pool.

Worthiness.

I knew instantly that this word was tied to judging.  That, in fact, it was offered as an antidote.

But I didn’t get it.  Until I began to recognize the thread tying disparate concepts together:

Judgement happens when I’m frightened.                                                                                       One very frightening feeling is that of feeling unworthy.

Let me clarify that I’m not referring to the kind of judging we necessarily do every day in a hundred different ways—to determine what’s for breakfast, to prioritize work, to decide how to tend our relationships.  This sorting through options and ranking the importance of our activities is essential to living in line with our values.

I’m writing here about the judging that finds fault and condemns, distances and builds barriers.  Like the clever snarky comment.  The belittling of a different opinion.  The talking over another person to feel important.

Judgement happens when I’m frightened.                                                                                      One very frightening feeling is that of feeling unworthy.

Which explains why a lot of judgement is about putting someone else down.  Rising our own seat on the teeter-totter by lowering the person on the other end.  But in this game, sooner or later, it’s our butt in the dust.

I think this judging often arises from small, chafing fears that we don’t even notice, much less identify.  It might be an uneasiness that a friend’s unreliability will leave us stranded or make us look flaky by association.  Or perhaps a friend’s opinions challenge ours and it’s just easier to discount them rather than engage in a difficult dialog.  Our worry about our kids’ future can blast up the emotion in a political debate.

We all have a lot at stake.  Which means there’s a lot to be scared about.

Worthiness.

I keep revolving, circling back around the word.  Knowing this piece fits in the puzzle. Trying to see where and how.

Is judging is about shaming?  Ourselves?  Someone else?

There’s a correlation between how we treat ourselves and how we treat others.  If I judge myself harshly, I’m likely to do the same to others.  When I feel comfortable in what I’m doing, I hear someone else’s opinion without feeling threatened.  I can extend, be curious about how someone else might see something rather than march into defending my own position.

When my judgement hackles rise, I’m beginning to glimpse options.  Those defensive hackles are a sign I need a breath or two of personal tending to remind myself that my self-worth is not on the line.  Then, if I can slip out of that protective critical state, there’s an opportunity to move into a neutral state of mind where I can become more attuned and observant.  Here’s the chance to observe what triggers were snagged in me.   And to attune to the other person’s intentions, the feelings behind their words.  This is the open territory, the chance to build new landscapes.  To move over to the swing set and help push one another way up into the sky.

It all happens quickly.  Usually I have to backtrack to get there.

I’ve almost scrapped this post because it’s been such a wrestling match.  At times, I couldn’t even see what I was in the ring with.  But this topic feels important.  It feels big, pervasive in lots of small ways that are easy to judge insignificant.  But probably aren’t.

I hope some of you will chime in.  I’d love to hear your thoughts, perspectives, experiences, from either side, or both, of the shaming judgment.   I’d love to play on the swing set with you.  g

 

 

 

Posted in Friendship, Vulnerability | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Touchstone – Treasure Hunt

Posted on Sat 09 15 by Lisa Sorensen

4 September 2015

I hope you’ll discover, as I have, that it’s not what lands you in the dark woods that defines you, but what you do to make it out.

– Joseph Luzzi, In a Dark Wood

touchstone treasure hunt

Last night I sat in the dark on our back deck and watched the moon rise up above the hills, gleaming through the oak trees and then ascending above them to hang, dazzling bright and fully exposed, in open sky.

It’s ebbing.  The fat round globe of last weekend has a big nip out of the leading side now.   Only because she’s so familiar to me, I could still vision what I see instead of the man on the moon—the woman sitting at her dressing table, the breeze blowing her hair out behind her as she looks into her mirror.

Ebb and flow.  Like tides.  Like breath.

Once upon a time I believed that I’d reach a steady state of success, happiness, marital bliss, having-my-act-together-ness.  I thought that if I worked hard and followed the rules enough, I’d be able to reshape world politics, create peace and harmony, and live in something roughly resembling Shangri-La.  Really.

Where do these ideas come from?

The real rules are that in us and around us is a dynamic, ever-changing kaleidoscope of events and thoughts.  My vision of some stable, steady, secure place denied reality.

I feel fortunate in my marriage, my friends and community, the opportunity to create and reflect.  I have ‘arrived’ in many ways, yet life is not perfect and I’m not always happy.  I’m exploring satisfaction here not because I think it is less than, or easier than, happiness, but because I think it is larger.  Because I think it contains a fuller recognition of life and a greater encouragement of full engagement.  I think satisfaction envelops joy and grief, growing pains and victory marches, mundane moments and peak events;  the warp and the woof of our real lives.

Looking back over these four months, I see the outlines of that treasure map.  Its crooked, slender trails may not always lead out of the forest in the most direct way, but they can bolster our hearts to be courageous through the thickest, scariest parts.

Part of using that map to get where we hope to go is questioning our expectations.  Deciding if they’re reasonable.  If they even still fit us.  If they’re helpful.  And, if not— adjusting them.  Which initially can feel like we’ve given up on something, like bits have been torn from our map.  Or like we’re lost—off the edge of our map.

Shangri-La is no longer on my map.  This is part of accepting life as it is—a powerful, transformative ceaseless wheel of change.

But in the middle of that wheel, I think we can create a hub.  With moments of mindfulness.  With appreciation for the love we feel.  With awareness of the values we hold and our ability to sometimes live in accordance with them.

Soak up a big breath.  Savor the goodness of who you are.  See that you, mind, body and heart, are on an amazing path.

 

 

 

Posted in Mindfulness, Satisfaction, Touchstones | Tagged , | 4 Comments

Treasure Hunt

Posted on Wed 09 15 by Lisa Sorensen

1 September 2015

A map does not just chart, it unlocks and formulates meaning; it forms bridges between here and there, between disparate ideas that we did not know were previously connected.  ~Reif Larsen

Treasuring hunting

Amazingly, here it is, already the second trimester of this year of exploring the facets of life satisfaction in this blog.  There are times when I wonder if I’ll have enough to say that will add value to our lives for another eight months.  Other times I think, wow, I need to dig in deep, there’s still so much great territory to roam and ideas I want to crack open!

So far, part of what I’ve gleaned is that satisfaction is neither a simple nor single thing.

Day-to-day the recipe for fulfillment will vary.  One day it may be our connections with friends that brings us meaning and joy.  Another day, it may be paying attention to the simple ordinary things in our life.  It may be delving into a wound that gains us compassion.  Or being a better friend to ourselves and discovering it makes us a better friend to others.  Perhaps it will be mustering the courage to try something risky or the willingness to reshape how we think.

Satisfaction comes from a melange of experiences.  The more places we can cultivate it the more likely we are to experience a sense of well-being and general contentment.

Before I started here, I think I secretly harbored a hope of discovering secret treasure.  Of mapping out an invaluable, no-fail prescription for satisfaction.  But now, instead, as I gather concepts to share with you, I’m accepting more readily that there is no prescription, no contract or guarantees, that can create a steady state of fulfillment.

However, I’m finding that if I continue to expand my awareness and willingness, satisfaction will do its part.  It will show up.  Because here’s some of the facets of satisfaction I can now map out:

It’s a relationship.  Like any relationship, there will be ups and downs.

It’s a practice  And like any practice it requires that we stick to it.  Return to it when we forget.  Begin again when we crash and burn.

There will be grit.  The kind of grit that gets in the gears.  And the kind of grit that holds us to a course when times are tough.

It’s big.  Like life.  It’s worth it.  Like love.  Seeking satisfaction asks us to know ourselves more, pay more attention, speak up courageously, be kind to ourselves and others.

One of the almost ingenious facets is that the things it asks of us, we actually want for ourselves.  We want to give them, we want to receive them.

I don’t expect (or even secretly hope anymore) for some no-risk guarantee, but I still hope that wisdom can be gathered from experience, that grace can be learned from falling, that acceptance can come with breaking open our hearts.

With intention and attention, we can create a treasure map and travel along it.  Like any good treasure map it will likely have faded and torn places, areas that are entirely illegible still and must be ferreted out.  I’m pretty sure that despite the uncertainties, it’s a quest worth embarking on.

 

 

As a footnote:  I’m embarking on KindSpring’s 21 Day Mindfulness Challenge which begins Wednesday, September 2.  Participants will receive a daily mindfulness prompt in their email geared towards…

“…shifting our individual and collective perceptions and patterns one small act at a time. As we go through our day with increased mindfulness, we become conscious of much that went unnoticed, misunderstood or simply ignored before. And with that consciousness come many gifts — among them, the opportunity to slow down habitual reactions, develop more creative responses to complexity and create deeper relationships with those around us. In a nutshell, mindfulness tunes us in more deeply to life and the potential for transformation in each moment….”

It’s free.  There’s no experience or prep required.  Probably can join in at any point.  I’m looking forward to participating.  If you’re interested, find out more here.  If you sign up, connect with me and let’s share!  If you join in late and want the initial prompts, let me know and I’ll forward them.

 

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Touchstone – Thought Modeling

Posted on Sat 08 15 by Lisa Sorensen

28 August 2015

The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking.  It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.  ~ Albert Einstein

Touchstone - Thought Modeling

 

The importance of cultivating our thoughts, both for our own benefit and for the good of the world, has been commented on throughout time by influential thinkers like Buddha and Ghandi, Henry Ford and Norman Vincent Peale.  It’s built into favorite fables and classic story tales.

These familiar quotes and anecdotes hinge on an understanding that our thoughts are powerful.   And simultaneously—malleable.

Yet, it is incredibly easy to get locked into the position of defending our thoughts as if they were infallible and unequivocal.

I’ve been working with the thought model I presented in the last post.  It’s Phd. level work for me.  I can react impulsively, without stopping to question my assumptions.  The tool works best when I remember to hoist it from my tool belt and use it.

But even just a moment’s hesitation, just enough to admit that my thoughts might not be totally correct or fully comprehensive, is enough for me to get the tool humming and alter a response.  Because if I reshape how I perceive a situation, that changes my actions which then effects all the events downstream of it, all the loops spiraling out beyond it.

Touchstone - Thought Modeling When you catch yourself slipping into a mood, you can play with this model and see if it helps.  Ask yourself how certain you are that your thoughts about the situation are absolutely factual.   Is it possible that some old and perhaps untrue story you have about yourself is shading your interpretation?  Can you come at it from a different angle?  And from that different perspective can you respond in a positive way?  A way that empowers your larger objectives?

Here’s what I’m thinking…I think you can!

 

If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.  ~Dr. Wayne Dyer

 

Posted in Leaning In, Mindfulness, Touchstones | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Thought Modeling

Posted on Tue 08 15 by Lisa Sorensen

25 August 2015

The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.  ~Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

thought modeling

 

I’ve been writing about the shadowy places of uncomfortable emotions and the value of exploring them to learn about ourselves and grow.

But often when I’m in an unpleasant state of mind it’s simply the result of falling into a bad mood, a mood that’s unproductive for me and annoying to the people around me.  This kind of mood is just plain a waste of good life.

As an architectural designer I might have an overdeveloped enthusiasm about tool belts, but I love discovering new tools and tactics that are useful in day-to-day life.  I’m delighted by concepts that flip a mental switch and create positive change in how I interact with myself or others.

Achieving and maintaining some traction on living according to our intentions isn’t always easy.  I need handy tools.  Power tools can be nice.  Here’s a concept I’m playing with now that falls into that category.

It’s a model that breaks down the sequencing of thoughts and emotions into a simple series of steps.  It goes like this—

  • A situation provokes our thoughts.
  • Those thoughts generate emotions.
  • Our emotions then lead to actions.
  • Those actions create the next situation.
  • A situation which then provokes new thoughts… and the circle continues.

This sequence occurs constantly, so quickly that it’s difficult to observe.  Seeing it here, spelled out in slow motion, sheds light on the circuit itself.  It also illuminates a way to short-circuit many of our negative emotions.

We’ve all noticed how the same circumstance can provoke radically different reactions in different people.  We’ve experienced how the same event can stimulate different responses in ourselves at different times.  Yet, we still tend to think that it is the situation or circumstance that is making us feel a certain way.  Actually, as the model clarifies, it’s not the situation that creates our emotions.

It’s our thoughts about that situation that determine how we feel.

What I’m finding is that often my thoughts about a situation can be off-base.  Way off-base.  I misunderstand.  I assume.  I feel insecure.  The other person communicates only part of the story.  Someone’s tired or in a hurry.  All of this can prevent clear understandings of the situation.

imagesIf we don’t stop to recognize this, we march right into an emotional place that quite possibly isn’t supported by reality.

A good friend can help us unravel a situation by querying us about it.  They will show us another perspective, help us fact check our thoughts, offer another interpretation.  Maybe help tease out the role historical feelings of inadequacy or disrespect are playing in the current event.

We can help ourselves by noticing our discontent or grumpiness a signal to review our thoughts.  Then, instead of acting as if our emotional response is inevitable and beyond our control, we can curate our emotions.

Stopping in this place of witness, we can reconnect with intention.  What is our intention?  To be helpful?  To be supportive?  To understand and be understood?  To be caring?

Stepping back long enough to find an intention is offering ourselves an emotional path forward that aligns with our values.

 

 

Koren Motekaitis introduced me to this concept and has inspired me in many ways.  You can find out about her great interview radio show podcast and her work as life coach here.

I believe this thought model version originated here with Brooke Castillo although I’m not familiar with her work.

 

Posted in Connection, Mindfulness, Wisdom | Tagged , , | 7 Comments

Touchstone – Defending the (Emotional) Range

Posted on Fri 08 15 by Lisa Sorensen

21 August 2015

“Life has no meaning. Each of us has meaning and we bring it to life. It is a waste to be asking the question when you are the answer.” ~Joseph Campbell

defending emotional range

 

My intention for my life is to feel good in the wisest and most joyful, loving way.

This blog is my brainstorming, an exploration of how to do that, how to create a life that satisfies and delights.  Fluffy as that might sound, it’s not really.  It’s hard work sometimes, which is why this week I defended time spent in the trenches.

My satisfied life will naturally look different than yours, but I think there might be many commonalities in how we work ourselves into them.  I benefit a lot from the support of friends and their insights.  I invite you to brainstorm here with me, with your partners and friends and to find what you need to venture deeply into an examination of what fulfills you, inspires you, engages you.  You are worthy of being known—by yourself and by others.  And as Mary Oliver writes so beautifully, this is our one wild and precious life.

It is a bold action to undertake the creation of a life journey according to one’s own design.  For me, it is taking courage and perseverance to craft a life not founded in approval-seeking and comparison, but instead calibrated to my own values and joys.

Let us venture boldly forth.  Beyond the rules we’ve known and perhaps reluctantly or unconsciously accepted.  Beyond the conventions that don’t fit our inclinations.  Beyond the norms that just aren’t normal for us.  And be as best we can the people we yearn to be.

Fully alive.  Courageous when it matters.  Connected.  Caring.

That’s how living a satisfied life looks to me right now.  For you it may look differently.  Because as Joseph Campbell has also famously said, “The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.”

I’m always interested to hear your thoughts on any of these topics.  With appreciation for you all.

 

 

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Defending the (Emotional) Range

Posted on Tue 08 15 by Lisa Sorensen

18 August 2015

Every suffering is a seed, because suffering compels us to seek wisdom.  ~  Bodhidharma

defending the emotional range

After reading my posts last week, a friend asked me if I was in a dark place.  I hesitated in my answer.  It wasn’t an easy ‘yes’ or ‘no’.   It was both.

I wrote last week about ‘dark’ places.  Now I’m going to defend them.  Because I believe there is wisdom that comes from grappling with difficult choices rather than necessarily following a common path.  There is a humility in seeing our own weaknesses that allows connection with others on a deeper level.   And, I think at the end of the day, most of us cherish wisdom and connection.

I know I do.  So, I want to support the effort it takes to shoulder down into dark, still territory.  This year-long blog journey I’ve embarked on was prompted by my desire to explore what creates a richly satisfying life.  There are hints about this, bread crumbs through the forest, in those quiet, reflective, and sometimes uncomfortable, places.

The ability to absorb loss with grace, the willingness to let our hearts feel both pain and euphoria, the generosity of spirit that allows us to give caring and forgive trespass, seem to me to be qualities of such a life.  Sometimes these kind of qualities come easily.  Other times, the wherewithal to act accordingly needs to be rooted firmly in the soil of strong, hard-won intention.

This is what our heroes do.

Studying mythical archetypes, Joseph Campbell broke down the stages of the hero’s journey.   The path begins in our hero’s (gender neutral) ordinary world when a challenge is laid before her (or him).  Initially our hero may walk away from the gauntlet, but eventually the challenge becomes too compelling, the stakes too high to ignore.  So she begins her endeavor, crossing a threshold into another world where the rules are different, the game itself twisted, and the odds skewed.  There are external struggles, but very importantly, she is also presented with moral dilemmas that test her in ways she’s never been tested before.  Ultimately, at great cost and usually with the help of comrades, she prevails, developing new strength and wisdom in the process.

It’s easy to think heroes are more able to endure these crucibles because they are better than us — stronger, smarter, more adept.  However, that misses the point.  The true hero is not better than us.  The triumph is that she is better than she was before.

In some way, big or small, she faced her weakness, and came out better for doing so.  In some way, big or small,  we can do the same.  We can let life help us be a little better.

Like every hero, we may turn away from difficulty at first, but ultimately if we want our lives to be our own, time spent separating ourselves from the noise and speed and coercion of culture will help us reflect on what we want our lives to represent, to support and help, to value and honor.

None of this, not one bit, is intended to detract from the absolute amazing glory of life’s bountiful plate.  Of the omnipresent opportunity for joy, heightened perhaps by our sense of limit and mortality.   Every day, even one in which internal struggles are weighty, is a day worthy of gratitude.  Maybe on these quieter, internal days we can put our steps out the door at sunset and find solace in the beauty the world ladles at our feet.  Perhaps especially on those days we are more attuned to struggle, we might notice someone in need of a helping hand and offer it.

So let us value all our days.  Our struggles and our joys.   And each step of our journey that takes us closer to who we want to be.

 

 

Posted in Connection, Courage, Leaning In, Satisfaction, Wisdom | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Touchstone – Delving Into the Dark

Posted on Fri 08 15 by Lisa Sorensen

14 August 2015

Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”  ~ Brené Brown

delving into the dark

Brené Brown’s sensitive, heartfelt exploration of shame and fear is inspiring and supportive to me.  She makes it clear how reaching for new territory in ourselves and making honest connections with others involves vulnerability, fear, uncertainty.

We are courageous when we comeback to try again after failure.  We appreciate love understanding what it is to lose it.

What tender or irritable place is chafing for attention in you?  Can you listen to it?  Feel it?  Give it a voice?  Can you offer solace?

Facing the ‘darker’ emotions, does not give them power over us.  Just the opposite.  Sitting with them gives us an opportunity to understand them, to tend what needs tending and let them help us move, with care, into who we want to be.  When we acknowledge and accept them in ourselves, we have compassion and empathy to offer the people we care for when they are struggling with their fears.

Give the dark its place.  Honor it.  The stars shine there.  The dawn proceeds.  A new and rich day comes.

 

(You can look at Brené’s books here.  I have especially loved ‘The Gifts of Imperfection’.)

 

 

Posted in Courage, Touchstones, Vulnerability | Tagged | 2 Comments

Delving Into the Dark

Posted on Wed 08 15 by Lisa Sorensen

11 August 2015

“You must go into the dark in order to bring forth your light.”  ~Debbie Ford, The Dark Side of the Light Chasers: Reclaiming Your Power, Creativity, Brilliance, and Dreams

Dark sky,

 

I fear going into this kind of darkness.   I wouldn’t have admitted that until recently.  I didn’t consider it true.  But this week I’ve seen how I hold a prejudice—always attempting to be cheerful, able, strong.  I’ve imagined spending too much time in the dark nurtures the pain, gives it strength to crumple the light parts of me.  But I think I’ve had it exactly wrong.

Denying our fears doesn’t make them go away.  Running from them keeps us always looking over our shoulders.

Last week, every time I’d think I had overcome the irritation and discouragement I was feeling, some small, silly trigger would snap me right back into a mood.  From beneath the surface, a dark side kept raising up.  A side that feels pain in a very intimate and pervasive way.

Despite my efforts at good living, there I was—the world full of hurt, my best attempts at communication failing, me should-ing all over myself, and once again sliding into the trough of ‘I am not enough’.

I resented this.  After all, I’ve applied myself and worked hard.  I felt I shouldn’t keep winding up back in that nasty muck again.  And then-it was this attitude that woke me up.

The attitude that life is a bargain I’ve bartered:  I arrange my life properly, wisely, pragmatically, and in so doing assure myself security, a sense of unwavering worthiness.

Life doesn’t do bargains.   We have influence over many things but control very few.   Often it’s world affairs, pollution, abuse, or tragedy that cause despair.  Because it turns out that we are wired for a full gamut of emotions, not just the sweet ones.

What I’m understanding now, slowly, is that a bias against the emotions I don’t consider pleasant is misinformed.  And damaging.  I have looked at unpleasant emotions as trouble makers that need to be overridden with ‘higher value’ emotions.  Now I’m seeing those trouble makers not only as an inherent part of life, but as guides leading me toward a fuller, richer appreciation of life.

It takes courage and spirit to face the fears that lurk in the dark, the yearnings that persist, the passions that have been stifled.  In our fables, the journey of the hero always requires that she or he face a difficult external and internal challenge.  In our lives, we too are heroic when we face the emotions that frighten us with an intention of creating greater understanding and love.

Thích Nhãt Hahn writes that understanding is love’s other name and that understanding another’s suffering is the best gift you can give them.

I’ve been opening to this idea, listening to my friends and seeking to understand what suffering has shaped their paths.  It takes mettle to sit with pain or the behavior it creates.  But it is rewarding to extend kindness to those pains, to know of those parts and, even when they are not being spoken of, to hold them with tenderness.

dark, delvingEven if we deny their existence, pains will affect us.  When we turn to face them, to offer them space to be heard and known, fear can strengthen us, we can walk more upright.  I hold my head up higher and open my heart more widely when I listen with acceptance and compassion to wounded hearts—others’ and my own.

There’s a potent, fertile world alive beneath our mental surface.  If we are courageous enough to embark on a journey into our hurts, to sit with them, listening and opening and tending, we might find answers to questions bigger than we even know to ask.

 

(For more on Thich Nhat Hahn and his book How to Love, see Brain Pickings here.)

Posted in Being Authentic, Courage, Facing fear, Friendship, Giving up on perfectionism, Vulnerability | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Touchstone – Take Your Mind for a Walk

Posted on Sat 08 15 by Lisa Sorensen

7 August 2015

“Everything you want is just outside your comfort zone.”  ~ Robert Allen

Open mind

I love this quote, even though I don’t fully subscribe to it.  It’s patently not true about a lot of things for me.  The smile of a friend, a deep yoga stretch, a strong bitter latté—these things are not outside my comfort zone and my life is enriched by the presence of each of them.

However, there is truth in this quote that snags me and holds onto me.  The physical connotation of the quote, about the rewards of pushing ourselves in a tangible way by hiking out into adventures, I have experienced and found both strengthening and satisfying.   That’s not what keeps the thought circulating in my mind.

There is also a more subtle level to the quote which intrigues me.   A truth that pertains to everyday paths where joy or satisfaction often lay just beyond our comfort zone.

Like with the dog that came racing right up to me, its owner assuring me it only wanted a sniff.   Despite the owner’s nonchalant friendliness, uncertainty piled up into discomfort in me—A sniff where?  Maybe a jump up on me, too?  Could the owner really know the dog wouldn’t smell something it didn’t like and the sniff could snap into something different?  A growl, or a nip?

My comfort zone was invaded.  My defenses went up.  My anger kicked in.  Perhaps not unreasonably, yet defensive behavior often creates  a series of events, like dominoes set in a line, that begin to tumble forward with force and without brakes.

Sometimes finding satisfaction requires that I apply brakes, veer off the path of an automatic response as quickly as I can.  Creating joy can require more from us.  More attention.  More intention.

In the face of grumpiness, a dose of gratitude challenges me to find a larger mood to dwell in.  In the face of discouragement, trust challenges me to take a wider perspective.  In the face of an argument, love challenges me to expand my viewpoint.

Even though we want to be open to joy, it’s easy to lock ourselves into tight spaces and rationalize that they are the only reasonable place to be.

But they’re not.

The smaller place can be familiar and safe, while being the person I want to be can dangle just outside my comfort zone.   Seeing this, understanding the push-pull here doesn’t always make it easier to step into the expanse of unknown territory, but it does clarify why we want to, and why we courageously do.

 

Posted in Courage, Facing fear, Mindfulness, Satisfaction, Touchstones | Tagged , | 1 Comment