The Ground Begins to Soften

For those of us who celebrate Easter in the northern hemisphere, we are blessed to have abundant symbols of resurrection and rebirth all around us as we celebrate this most joyous holy day.  We are blessed to enjoy the new buds on the trees, the return of robins and other birds that have been south for the winter, the lengthening of the days, and the overall warming temperatures.  For me, though, there is one sign in nature that is the most meaningful indicator of new life this time of year, one that is probably easy to overlook...the ground beginning to soften. First the snow melts, and then gradually the ground that has been frozen and covered all winter begins to thaw and soften. One thing I love about the ground beginning to soften is that I am able to move my morning runs off the concrete sidewalks and onto the soft earth, which provides welcome cushioning to my aging joints.  Softening ground is wet ground this time of year and I love the squishing sound that my shoes make with every step I take. The softer ground also means that soccer and baseball games will soon be played again and that those with green thumbs will soon be digging in their gardens.  The softer earth gives rise to so many wonderful stirrings of new life.

As we celebrate Easter today, we are not just a celebrating something that happened    almost 2000 years ago; we are also celebrating the truth that God continues to make things new, that God continues to bring life out of death.  The image of the ground beginning to soften is a vivid metaphor of what it feels like when God is doing a new thing in our lives.

I know this feeling in my own life and I see it  in my work as a priest and a therapist.   People usually come to see me because life has become hard for them.  Literally.  They come in with hearts, minds, souls and even bodies that have become hardened and rigid.  They come alone or they come with their loved one or they bring their whole family because everyone has become hardened to each other.  This hardness is usually the result of frozen sadness or hurt, or unresolved conflict or grief and the hardness has built up over a long period of time.

Why have they come?  Because deep down, they don't want to be hard-hearted, hard-minded, or hard-spirited, towards themselves or towards the people they love most.  Deep down, a small, still voice longs for something different.  And because they are willing to listen to this longing, slowly, imperceptibly at first, a miracle begins to happen.  The ground begins to soften.  The softening heart/mind/soul, just like the softening earth, soon gives rise to all kinds of miraculous new life.  People forgive each other and they forgive themselves.  People who haven't done so for a long time touch and hug again.  There is laughter where once there was criticism and hurt.  There is joy where there once was shame and guilt.  Grief gradually loosens it's grip. There is freedom where there once was bondage.  There is life where there once was death.  Resurrection happens.

We at Living Compass wish all of you a Happy Easter.   May your hearts and souls be softened today by the presence of the One who continues to bring life out of death.

Holy Is As Holy Does

In a few days Christians around the world will begin the observance of Holy Week. Holy Week is the week preceding the celebration of Easter and is marked by a range of sacred traditions and celebrations. Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday, continues with Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and concludes with celebrations of the Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday. Throughout history, throughout the world, and across the many expressions of Christian faith, there are countless variations of how Holy Week is enacted, but the one common theme of all Holy Week celebrations is that they are characterized by a wide variety of dramatic actions. Palms are blessed. Processions occur around the church, and sometimes around the neighborhood, with some even including a live donkey. The Gospel is proclaimed or sung with many joining in to portray different voices in the stories being read. Feet are washed. Bread is broken. Some of the faithful stay awake for all night prayer vigils. Hymns are sung. Flowers are arranged. Fires are lit. Trumpets are blown. Resurrection is proclaimed.

So what exactly makes Holy Week holy? There are no doubt many responses to this question, but for me the one essential ingredient to what makes Holy Week holy is the intentional and deep joining together of beliefs and actions. Holy is not just about what what we believe, but how our beliefs become expressed in our actions. Holy is as holy does.

We can ask the same question about all aspects of our lives. What makes our work holy? What makes our relationships holy? What makes our caring for our community and our world holy? What makes our very lives holy? My answer to these questions would be similar to what I shared regarding Holy Week. When there is intention to integrate and join our deepest faith and beliefs with our actions and behaviors, then that which we do becomes holy. When I am loving and caring to someone in need, whether a friend or stranger, I am expressing holiness in that relationship. When I seek ways to create a greater good in the world, whether through my work, or volunteer service, or some other way of giving back, I am enacting holiness in the world. When I am mindful of my own need for repentance or forgiveness and seek reconciliation with those whom I have hurt, I am both experiencing and expressing holiness in those relationships. When I take time to observe and nurture signs of new life and resurrection in the world around me, I am participating in a wholeness and a holiness is that is much greater than myself.

As Christians celebrate Holy Week this week, may we all be reminded that every one of us has the opportunity celebrate holiness this week by finding ways to being more intentional about the joining together of our faith and deepest beliefs with the everyday actions of our lives.

Are You Paying Attention?

As a child, I had a habit of daydreaming in school, as I was often bored and my mind would wander.  I grew accustomed to my teacher walking over toward my desk and asking what I'm sure he or she meant as a rhetorical question, “Are you paying attention?”  I would always answer affirmatively, in part because once the question was asked I was indeed now paying attention to what the teacher was saying.  As I got older, I realized that in fact, I was  always paying attention--maybe not to what was being taught at the moment, but I was certainly paying attention to something-- my friends, the clock as it got closer to recess, or to the creation of plans for play after school.The fact is that you and I are always paying attention.  The question is not if we are paying attention, but what are we paying attention to?  We have a saying that runs through all of our Living Compass Faith & Wellness programs, one that stresses the importance of paying attention: “Whatever we pay attention to is what will grow.” My wife Holly, and I recently recorded a new episode of our podcast “Living Compass for Families” that is based on becoming more aware of what we pay attention to (see below for the link to it) and so the saying, “Whatever we pay attention to is what will grow” has been on my mind a lot.  You might say I have been paying attention to this saying and therefore its importance has been growing for me. For those of us who are in the midst of observing the season of Lent, this is a time to focus our attention on what matters most in our lives.  This year for Lent I have been paying attention to my spiritual, emotional, and physical wellness.  Daily scripture readings, along with a daily practice of writing or speaking of things for which I am grateful has helped me pay attention to my spiritual and emotional wellness.  Abstaining from eating wheat for the season of Lent, has been my way of focusing on my physical wellness and I am enjoying feeling better physically.  Each of these experiences have reminded me, once again, that whatever I pay attention to is what will grow.  Lenten disciplines, while probably not often thought of in this way, often have the effect of enhancing some area of wellness in our lives. The essential question for each of us is not, “Are you paying attention?”  The essential question is, “What are you paying attention to?”  If our attention is being paid to what annoys us in life, then that annoyance will grow.  If our attention is being paid to our worries then they will most likely grow as well.  If our attention is paid to what we cherish most about a friend or loved one, then that feeling will grow.  If our attention is paid to our relationship with God, or caring for our bodies, or taking time to be playful, then each of those things will grow as well.  If, on the other hand, our attention is so scattered and divided that nothing is getting quality attention, then it should not come as a surprise if there is not much that is growing in our lives.

So what do you want to see grow in your life?  In others words, what do you want to pay more attention to?  Your work?  Your relationships with family and friends?  Your spiritual life?  Your physical wellness?  Whether you are observing Lent, or not, there is not time like the present to discover that what you pay attention to is what will grow.

 Next week I will be paying attention to my need for rest and relaxation as I take a week's vacation.  This column will return in two weeks.   

Hope Springs Eternal, Even When Our Brackets Break

Yesterday was the first day of Spring and for many parts of the country it was a day filled more with hope than the actual experience of Spring.  As I witnessed two people playing golf yesterday on a course still partially covered in snow I thought of the famous words of an English poet, Alexander Pope, which were penned in 1733, “Hope springs eternal in the human breast.” Pope goes on to express so well the hope for the warmer weather that is sure to come for these golfers and others who are patiently waiting, “The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home, rests and expatiates in a life to come.” We can also see hope springing eternal in the world of college basketball this week as this week also marked the beginning of the NCAA Men's College Basketball Tournament.  This annual “March Madness” experience is one where sixty-eight college basketball teams are chosen to compete over a three week period of time to see which team can win six consecutive games to emerge as the national champion for the year.  Hope springs eternal for each of the sixty-eight teams, as well as for the millions of fans who have made their predictions of which teams will win each of the sixty-seven games being played over the next three weeks.  Millions of fans in pools with family, friends, and office workers around the country have “filled out their brackets,” meaning they have predicted who they are hoping will win each of the upcoming games.

The odds of filling out a perfect bracket, one in which a person accurately predicts the winner of all 67 games are, 9.2 quintillion to one.  To give you an idea of how big that number is, think 9.2 billion multiplied by one billion .  Talk about hope springing eternal!  Anyone who participates in this annual rite of prognostication, as I always do, knows the sorrow that quickly comes to pass when one's bracket is broken when unexpected outcomes and upsets come to pass.  These unexpected outcomes are officially known as “bracket busters” and if one has too many of these too soon in the tournament then it quickly becomes clear that one's hope will have to spring eternal for better luck in picking the winners of next year's tournament.

Sports mirrors life in so many ways.  In this case, the sheer improbability of predicting a perfect tournament bracket mirrors the sheer improbability of any of us predicting how our lives will unfold.  We regularly enter into new relationships, new jobs, and new adventures of all sorts based on how we think things will unfold.  We make our best predictions, fill out our brackets, and then hope for the best.  Inevitably, though, our brackets--our hopes--will get broken and we will have to pick up the pieces and try again. Sixty-seven of the sixty-eight teams in this year's college basketball tournament will go home having lost their last game of the season.  Does that fact prevent any of them from showing up and playing with all their hearts?  Of course not, because the combination of their love of the game and the fact that hope springs eternal means that they will give it their all, no matter what the outcome may be.  Their efforts inspire me to live my life the same way.  I simply need to keep showing up every day because I love life itself, and because I have great hope that even though my bracket will surely get broken at times, in the end it is the playing of the game, the living and loving of life itself, that is its own reward.

Mud Season

I attended a wonderful training workshop this past week that focused on helping people and organizations move through times of transition and change.  Dr. Kay Collier McLaughlin, a psychotherapist, author, and leadership/organizational consultant, was our presenter and drew heavily on her many years of experience in both fields.  What struck me most about this excellent presentation was her observation that the biggest mistake people and organizations make when working through significant change is that they don't make enough room to honor the emotions of loss, sadness, grief, and fear that almost always accompany change.  Someone in our group observed that we don't like to make room for these kinds of emotions because they can be so “messy” and for the most part we don't like things that are messy or unpleasant. Here in the Midwest we know something about messy this time of year.  As the long winter begins to lose its grip and the mounds of snow begin to melt, our roads, sidewalks, trails, and yards become quite messy and even ugly.  In fact, I have heard it said here in the Midwest, as well as many other places in the country, that there are actually five seasons each year if you add the “mud season” that exists between winter and spring.

Part of what creates the massive amount of mud and messiness this time of year is the fact that after a long, cold winter the depth of the ground freeze is quite significant.  During the mud season, while the warming temperatures thaw the surface of the ground, the deeper ground remains frozen and thus the melting water at the surface is unable to percolate down into the soil.  Until the deeper ground thaws the water stays on the surface creating increasingly deeper levels of mud and mess.   Many dirt roads and walking trails actually become impassable during this time of year until the deeper thaw finally occurs, allowing the water to seep down into the soil and then to flow on into the greater watershed.

The mud season, itself a time of transition between winter and spring, strikes me as a powerful metaphor for describing what it feels like when we are going through times of transition in our lives, whether as individuals, families, or organizations.  Times of transition are almost always at least a little messy, and the path forward can sometimes become muddy and hard to travel.  If there is significant grief or loss involved in our transition, the initial thawing can feel particularly muddy and difficult.

Whatever kind of mud season we may be experiencing, the way through is the same.  Be patient. Put you boots on and your head up. Be careful to watch where you are walking, so that you avoid any potential danger. Walk with someone else so you can help each other when the mud is deep and you are in danger of getting stuck. Be patient, knowing that in time the ground will eventually thaw and the mess and the mud will gradually pass.  The path may not ever be the same, but a new path forward is certain to emerge.