This morning I awoke to find my good friend Renée Safrata’s latest Blog/Vlog on The Big Picture, The Shiny Object and The Overwhelmed. It was all about the ‘stuckness’ that can occur when working on great ideas and projects. I loved it.
I am someone who suffers from not only the Shiny Object issue but more appropriately the Any Object issue. I often find myself piling on projects. I have one great idea which I start with great motivation and intention. However, it does not take much for me to get distracted. I can use the old ADD disorder excuse, but that does not get any project completed.
I liked Renee’s idea of breaking it down into smaller steps and feeding on the adrenal rush of small successes.
Like this blog. I wanted to try again to include images into my blog. Some of you got to see pictures of my Super Senior parents in the last blog, but many of you may have missed out because the original posting did not quite work. I had to get technical support to fix the problem. I saw Renee’s vlog today and had the idea to try sharing video this time. I knew the first step was to write my own blog. I got a bit distracted, of course, by other possible subjects and then other images to insert. But I stayed on task.
Hopefully you have been able to enjoy learning from Renée’s blog as well. Giving you a chance to identify which one of these trouble spots may slow down your projects!
P.S. It took me a week to get this blog completed. I wasn’t able to insert the video quite as easily as I had hoped, and truthfully, I got distracted by another project. At least I remembered and watched the video again. That helped me to get the job done!!
Recently my folks were out for a visit. They came via train with my sister Penny and her husband, Rob. I believe this was Penny’s idea and I loved the idea of having everyone out to Montana. I am not sure I would have been willing to board a train for an overnight sleep in coach seats, especially with my parents. I have heard it is not so bad, and they did arrive in excellent spirits. Still, I thought my sister was crazy. Apparently, I was wrong! I had quite a lot to learn about just what’s possible even when traveling as Super Seniors!
On the first day of the visit, while Penny and Rob relaxed at The Hay Moon Resort, my folks ventured out with CrisMarie and me to the top of Whitefish Mountain. I went to purchase tickets for the gondola ride to the top, pulling out enough cash to cover tickets for two adults and two seniors. The woman at the window took a look at my folks and asked if either were over 80. They both qualified, my mom, Bernie, is 82 and my Dad, John is 90.
“Well, they are Super Seniors and they ride for free!”
My dad was thrilled.
He proudly shared this new honor with anyone willing to listen, including the chairlift people, who were more concerned about helping him safely on and off the lift than his Super Senior status. The gondola ride up was soon replaced with the chairlift ride down so my folks could enjoy the fresh air and swing their legs freely. As I spent the next few days with them, I found myself gaining a much greater appreciation for just what a great description Super Seniors is for these two adventuresome people.
The next day, we drove up to Logan’s Pass in Glacier National Park. I wasn’t to sure what we would be able to do up there. The trail options were a bit more demanding than I thought my folks could handle. We opted to give the Hidden Lake trail a try. This trail is only 1.5 miles, ascending 800 feet in elevation. It is covered mostly via a boardwalk, however, the boardwalk has no guardrail, and there is a significant incline, meaning there are steps that can be anywhere from the standard 6 inches to a foot and not always level. My folks assured me they would take care of themselves. Of course, I was worried anyway.
Penny, CrisMarie and I took off up the trail, with Rob, John and Bernie walking behind. As the gap between us increased, we looked back and could see that we needed to reevaluate the plan. My folks had gone a pretty fair distance from the Visitor Center, but the going was slow, and they realized it wasn’t going to be a trip that was in their best interests to continue. Still, the scenery was amazing. So they wanted to find a rock to sit on and relax. Apparently, they had come prepared with some books and a sketch pad (with only one pencil). We got them settled on some rocks, and off we went. They assured us they’d wait for us to return and we’d help them on the way back.
We enjoyed the rest of the hike, seeing some goats and big horn sheep. We were heading back when we realized we’d been a bit longer then we had planned. I took off at a jog to get back to let my folks know we were on our way. As I got back to where I should have been able to see them, I could see they were gone. I started moving much faster. I listened for sirens, looking further ahead for some assistance. When I got back to the Visitor Center, I found my Super Senior folks shopping. They had made their way back just fine.
I apologized for taking so long, asking how it had been. They laughed. They had had a grand time. They showed me sketches they had done of each other and of the scenery. When they had gotten tired, they simply asked someone for assistance getting off the rocks and back to the path. Indeed, the stairs going back were a bit more challenging but they had simply taken one step at a time, supporting each other down. Bernie would go down one step supporting John. Then she’d take the next step. Slowly, but very effectively, they worked their way back to the Visitor Center.
“We knew we’d be just fine if we helped each other and had no need to get anywhere fast.” I sure wish I applied that wisdom to my life more often, but I guess that’s how they got to be Super Seniors!!
Apparently, all my worries were for nothing. My Super Senior parents may look fragile and have to go slower than the average person, but they sure do know how to make the best of their time together.
I can only hope that if I make it to Super Senior Status I can live with as much creativity, purpose and adventure as they do!
I am on my way to Oakland for our annual two days with my Table Group colleagues. I enjoy these days; however, this time I am coming off an intense weekend of celebrating the birthdays of two of my mentors and the passing of a very dear friend. It seems appropriate to write this blog as a make my way from Gabriola to Oakland via Vancouver and Seattle. My eyes are tired from the tears that flowed today as many old and new friends gathered in the lodge and later in Phoenix to say goodbye to Dianne. My heart is full from Saturday’s birthday celebration of Ben Wong (80) and Maria Gomori (90). Ben is the man behind The Haven and pretty much the sole example about everything I have learned about being human. Maria, (90), is a force of nature who’s life spans everything from wild escapes from death marches in Hungary to career changes that include being a high-level Hungarian political economist, to being a human psychologist in Winnipeg, and a world-traveling facilitator who still runs workshops from early morning to late evening.
I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to make the birthday celebrations. The dates were tricky, and I was already booked before and after. However, when Dianne died and the news spread that there was going to be a ceremony for her on the weekend, I knew I had to come.
What was most amazing was the people who gathered. Many were faces from much earlier in my life. People who I hadn’t seen or spoken to in years, all returning because one of these three masters had so deeply touched or transformed their lives that they wanted to come and celebrate.
The birthdays were special because on the stage sat 170 years of experience. Jock in his purposeful, strategic way had planned an interview of the pair. He had a vision and with commitment and drama and took us with him. However, I believe in the end, the masters steered us off in other directions: Ben, with his wonderful wit and provocative wisdom, and Maria, with her own agenda to make sure this was really about Ben (and Jock) and just how they had saved her life so many times. I am not sure if things went as Jock imagined, but I believe what he intended was delivered. We all were captured by the stories and the deeper messages about the importance of freedom, integrity and in the end, human connection.
The evening was musical, poetic and spanned between the East and the West. It was Haven at its finest.
Sunday bought a different flavor to the day. This was a gathering to celebrate not a birthday, but a passing, though this time not quite choreographed, planned and directed. But once we gathered and Dianne’s family joined her extended family of friends, those who agreed to guide the flow of feelings, demonstrated the grace of The Haven in yet another way. Much like a Come Alive, there was just enough structure and thought to bring the day to life. The circle was powerful and a wonderful way for each of us to speak and let our loving of Dianne flow through songs, stories, tears, poems, laughter and hugs. Dianne would have loved it!
I didn’t know how important it was for me personally until a young man commented at the tightness in my shoulders. He noticed that my shoulders were slowly rising towards my ears and was willing to check out his story with me. He thought something was wrong. I knew in that moment I was doing what I can do so well, shutting down the feelings and detaching from my heart. His comments were very early in the day and left me with plenty of time to make a different choice. I took a breath because I knew wanted to feel.
Now, sitting on the plane, my eyes are quite tired from the many tears I let flow. I am quite full from the weekend and not sure how I will be able to transition to tomorrow’s focus. Right now though, I am full and grateful once again for The Haven, my friends, my family, and all that I learn when I am willing to show up, open my heart, breath and trust.
As I have mentioned before, I grew up biking. When I was five I got my first real bike. Today, it’s what is referred to as a Lowrider; back than it was called a Stingray. I didn’t have any gears but I could go up any hill, and though I probably never took on any mountains, I imagined I was good at the hills, even back then.
I wouldn’t really call myself a biker. Over the years I have used my bike to commute to work. I’ve enjoyed mountain biking, road riding and just cruising around beach towns. I currently have three bikes: a road bike, a mountain bike, and a hybrid (that one is staying on Gabriola for now). Still, I am not as serious about biking as my Dad.
This summer I have learned some interesting things about myself while biking. The most interesting thing has been my relationship to climbing. I love going uphill. Apparently I smile when I start up a major incline. When I first heard this, I thought it was more of a grimace than a smile, but after getting feedback from a number of folks, I realize I enjoy taking on a mountain.
I have learned over the years how to shift gears and position myself for good climbing. I like enough tension so I can rise up off my seat for some good leg work and then to sit back down, keeping a good steady accent.
I’m not particularly fast; however, I am consistent. I like breathing hard and feeling a bit of strain in my legs. I love reaching the top and feeling that sense of accomplishment when the climb has been significant.
Oddly though, I don’t like going down. It’s okay. I am generally not fearful but just don’t seem to get the same joy cruising down as I do pedaling up.
Being in Montana with many great climbs close to home, I have had the chance to give this lots of thought. Since I believe; ‘how you do anything is how you do everything’—I am curious about my relationship to mountains and how that might apply to my life.
It’s true, I do my best when facing difficult odds. There have been many examples of this throughout my life. Back when I took tennis, I excelled naturally and was quite good. I could coast and generally win with ease. However, I found myself much more interested in basketball. I wasn’t very good at basketball, but I was determined. Tennis, like riding a bike downhill, was okay, even fun. But basketball, I loved, though it was far from natural. I probably was working harder than anyone else, surprised everyone by making the team, and was best known for my scrappy, not graceful defense. I attacked basketball just like riding up a mountain. Not great, but very consistent, tenacious and always smiling.
Then there’s the whole cancer challenge. In many ways I found life easier facing down chemo, or radiation than dealing with colds and flu.
There are many other examples, like our work. I, for years, enjoyed working with the hardest, most dysfunctional teams. I always found that easier than a team that was doing okay but not great. Related to work, I started to get rethink this approach, and a while back and put a lot of effort into not doing crisis work, and finding the joy and challenge in making a good team, great.
Still I wonder. I imagine life is more like coasting downhill, and yet I’m not sure I would be satisfied with that. Maybe the Croatia coastline was the perfect blend of up and down. No mountains but some great climbs. And while there, I did let myself love the downhill, mainly because the views were awesome.
I am definitely comfortable when climbing. I know what to do, how to pace myself. I am not so good at coasting. I feel sort awkward, not pedaling or not doing anything but steering. It’s so easy to lose control on the downhill. Maybe I am just a touch afraid of letting go. Still, when I turned fifty, many people said, “It’s all downhill from here”.
I have faced and climbed enough mountains. I do believe it’s time to enjoy coasting downhill or at least riding the perfect coastline, letting myself enjoy the views!
This summer in Croatia there were a few major climbs.
Today my good friend Dianne passed away. I got a call about her death just after finishing a yoga class. I cried, laughed, cried and laughed. I wondered about my response, judging myself for feeling such joy and laughter just after hearing she had died. But as I sat and started thinking about Dianne and our many moments together I knew that really the tears were just for me knowing I would miss my friend and the laughter was my joy that she was free at last.
Of course I am sad that Dianne is gone and I will miss her laughter and physical presence the next time I am at The Haven for a Come Alive or any other program. However, Dianne has been struggling in her physical body for a long time and today I had a moment when I thought for sure I could hear her laughing and playing somewhere out there; as light as a feather and without a care in the world.
For me, Dianne was such an interesting person. She in many ways was one of the most grounded, direct and straight-shooting people I have known. I could call her up and start telling her some saga in my life and she could quickly call me on all the many blocks and screens I might toss out there to avoid looking at my own stuff. She could do that with me and she could do that with pretty much anyone who showed up in a group, defended, resistant or overly self-involved. There she was this over-weight, quite unhealthy woman; who was brilliant with group process and making contact with those folks who most would have given up on. Even the last time I saw her and she wasn’t even able to get out of her chair, I found myself just loving talking with her. It was easy to connect.
Sure I was annoyed that she never took care of her own health and that she loved reading much more than walking. I was furious that she would eat cake and too much food yet I still loved Dianne. Her body was always a paradox for me. There she was doing just about everything she could to kill herself and yet her inner world, her spirit was something truly special, a gift for all who were willing to deal with the paradox and get to know Dianne in spite of the war- zone that represented her body.
Even as I write this I feel badly saying negative things about her body. However, that’s just it – she was such a paradox. I loved her deeply and over the years wrestled with how to stay connected even though I had judgments and didn’t like the way she took care of herself. Still I loved it when she was in a group with me either as a participant, an assistant or a leader. I loved working with her. She could be brilliant and many, many times she reminded me why I loved The Haven, the work and what really mattered. Dianne was the essence of the Velveteen Rabbit – she was worn and torn, the stuffing was coming out but she was REAL and she was LOVED!!
Today I imagine much like the story of The Velveteen Rabbit – Dianne is able to jump, leap and let her spirit soar!!
Lance Armstrong doesn’t believe he should be part of any ‘witch-hunt’ type investigation of illegal doping because, “I have done too many good things”. Wow! Though a witch-hunt is not a valuable use of time and money, his argument suggests that he is somehow above being investigated.
As I read on in the USA Today article, there were concerns from others that if Lance is found guilty this could cause deep distress and possible setbacks for cancer survivors who have been inspired by Lance. This is the most ridiculous defense, in my opinion. First, if Lance was illegally doping to win bike races, he should be identified as such. Illegal doping has nothing to do with overcoming cancer. The two are not related. It is as though he and his legal team are using surviving cancer and doing good deeds as a reason to let him off the hook.
Lance Armstrong used his story and his image to inspire people. That’s great. Of course I will be sad if the evidence against Lance indicates illegal doping in months ahead. But I would not be surprised. Let’s face it, the world of sports is filled with heroes that have fallen because of these type of charges.
Still, the Livestrong campaign is not about winning bike races. It is successful because Lance Armstrong put his face on the program. And Lance’s cancer story makes the news because of his bike racing. But anyone who survives cancer, I believe, is inspired by the story not because of winning bike races, but because someone else lived, battled and engaged in life after cancer. That part of the story will not change even if Lance is found guilty of illegal doping.
The people who invested either their money, their time, or their story into the Livestrong campaign were not supporting bike racing or Lance—they were fighting cancer. That has nothing to do with these doping charges. The fact he has bought that into the picture is what makes me angry and less confident in Lance.
The odd part about doping is that we are the ones who make winning so important. We pay tons of money to put athletes up on high pedestals and then wonder why someone takes an illegal substance to stay on top. When we make Superheroes out of mortal men and women, and we are setting them and ourselves up for a fall.
I don’t want to make excuses for Lance Armstrong. I don’t even care if he is investigated or not. However, I don’t like that he is playing the cancer card and his few good deeds to get out of the spotlight. Lance, man up. If you are innocent, great, and if you are not, well, it just proves you’re not any different than other human beings—you make mistakes.
I still believe in Livestrong, no matter what happens to Lance Armstrong. I simply wish he would live up to his own tagline—Live Strong. Don’t hide behind a few good deeds and drop the cancer card in order to get out of being investigated. That is not Living Strong!
With Canada Day behind us, and the Fourth of July tomorrow, my thoughts are on fireworks, patriotism and turkeys. If this were an SAT question about which word doesn’t fit, I am sure you could guess, turkeys.
Every year at this time, the wild turkeys that roam around our yard have their little turkeys. Usually this is not a huge issue, but this year Bailey is not quite as smart about the turkeys as Sooke and is going after the little guys. Anyone who knows turkeys can guess the real concern here is not for the babies, but Bailey. Wild turkeys are serious about protecting their young. So far we have been able to stop any harm from happening. But any love I had for the wild turkeys is long gone. I just want them somewhere else.
Besides dealing with Bailey and the turkey issue, this is also the first year Bailey has been around for fireworks. Here in Montana, fireworks are like guns, everyone is loudly shooting them off well before the 4th. I am guessing there is some law that encourages (I say encourages because it is not that effective) folks to wait until the 4th for the big stuff. So far the occasional pops are causing Bailey to bark and become alarmed, so I imagine the 4th might be a long night.
We don’t usually go anywhere. Our outdoor fire pit area provides an excellent view of the the various displays and a small circle of friends is much more appealing to me than the crowds and parties down by the lake.
This is the biggest weekend for tourists in our area. It officially marks the opening of Glacier National Park’s Going to the Sun Road and folks start flocking to the park and the lakes that make this area very special. It is the first summer I will be here. The last couple years I was heading off to Gabriola for the Phase. I am excited about being home for what’s considered our best months and hopefully getting out to discover some off-road adventures.
I feel very fortunate to have two great nations to call home. On Canada Day I was a part of a wonderful event at The Green Tea House. The event was a fundraiser for a Peace Garden. It was very successful and seemed a perfect marker for me to celebrate Canada. I do think of Canada as a peaceful nation. I doubt many there realized the importance of the date. But Canada seems to like a low profile, so that fits.
Not so with the USA. Our holidays are big and generally known well beyond our borders. Sure, sometimes the narcissism and grandiosity is a bit much, but I am grateful to live here even with all of the issues and controversy.
I am definitely of two nations and enjoy the opportunity to celebrate each during this first week of July!
It’s been a while. I am back from Croatia and have been quite busy with work and other things here in Montana. I realized over the weekend that since my Dad’s 90th birthday, I have been traveling: I spent the month of May on Gabriola leading the Phase; got back for a day or so and was then off to Croatia; came home from that and headed into class for a couple days; took a trip to Columbus, Ohio to work with a client; and then over the weekend drove to and from Spokane to visit with my cousin from South Carolina for a few hours. Everything has been great but with so many significant events happening I have had very little time to integrate, write, or fully absorb any one of these events. The good news is that I believe I was pretty present, so I know I let things in and believe there is still time for needed integration.
Last night I went with some friends to hear Susan Gipson, a singer and songwriter, play at an outdoor pavilion just outside of Whitefish. Gipson wrote the Dixie Chicks’ song Wide Open Spaces—one of my favorites. She was awesome, a great storyteller and songwriter. Her songs are clearly like my blogs, a path for her to integrate life events and share them with the world.
With so much happening I feel like I haven’t been doing the sharing part. For instance, I missed writing about the wonderful Croatian guides we had on our trip, Marko and Matej, who were sort of opposites in personality but together they delivered such a rich passion, history and love for their country that I came away wanting to tell others about the people and the place. Then there’s the World Cup, what an amazing event. It’s not just about soccer. My favorite side story was about the grandmother’s South Africa soccer league. These woman started playing when many couldn’t walk and they definitely were not supposed to be out in shorts and sneakers. People laughed at them. But this league changed the lives and health of many of the women. I love stories like that.
Here’s hoping I can find the time to integrate recent events and write some blogs that let me share some of the special times. I am not always good at slowing down. Especially with so many exciting things to do. But listening to Susan Gipson last night reminded me of the value of finding a path to share the story—not just live it!
Today I am 50. I woke up feeling an amazing amount of grateful for my life. It helps that I am in Croatia on an awesome bike touring experience with the love of my life, good friends and some great new friends. The joyful experience of testing myself on the rolling hills here on the islands, and seeing breathtaking views while flying downhill, probably has something to do with a very high gratitude meter.
Today has been perfect. The first part of the day was beautiful and the ride relatively easy and fun. Then three of us added an additional challenge by taking the long way back, basically over the mountain. It was awesome. By the end of the day I had ridden every kilometer possible for my touring experience. I definitely felt like I lived up to my muchness. Indeed life is good. Now we have a few extra days to unwind in Hvar.
Though I am fortunate to be here in this place, I also know my gratitude meter is high because I do believe I am living my best life. I have a relationship that excites me, challenges me, provides me the opportunity to support, and is filled with aliveness and learning. I live in a beautiful place, in a home that is surrounded by color, with animals that are friendly and fill the place with life. I get to work with my partner and I do believe we change the world sometimes with what we do. I have great friends and family to dialogue with and share in awesome experiences. Yes, there is so much to be grateful for on this day. I don’t feel old, I feel fulfilled and ready for more. Yes, it is worth celebrating life!
Jim and Renee arrived yesterday to join us on our big adventure. In honor of my birthday they created wonderful riding shirts for each of us. They had planned these shirts with my birthday in, mind but instead of simply focusing on me, the shirts broadcast celebrating life. I personally think everyone else on the trip will want one. They are great.
As always when we get together, we started chatting about everything and my latest blog on muchness came up. The concept was one that we all agreed was important especially in relationship to our trip and celebrating life. As we talked we realized life can as easily become about shouldness as well as muchness and that the real challenge is to recognize it when it occurs and to do something about it.
Most of us lose our muchness when we get to caught up in the shoulds and the obligations of life. It is easy to do. Whether it is a passion that becomes a job and suddenly instead of taking risks and learning the job, it becomes routine and lifeless. Or a relationship that slowly becomes more about doing what’s predictable and safe rather than what is desired, which thereby causes conflict or tension. We all make these small decisions and choices and though they may not seem that serious over time, the result is a loss of our muchness in exchange for shouldness.
It is what I like about being with friends like Jim and Renee. Together we talk about these things and confront each other about our patterns. Sure sometimes it can be uncomfortable. That is the problem with living with muchness, it can create anxiety and tension. Instead of being predictable, I am in the moment and may not do what everyone expects and thinks is ‘right’. When each of us is living that way, there is more potential for differences and conflicts. However, there is also more newness and possibility. So if I am willing to stay in that uncertainty and tension there is an aliveness and freshness to life that is definitely worth celebrating!
As we travel together for these next few days, I look forward to discovering where am I living my shouldness and how can I recapture my muchness and celebrate life by more fully engaging. This is a wonderful opportunity to discover and commit to the next part of my journey and be clear that it is not the shoulds that my life reflects but instead all the possibilities, i.e. my muchness.
