My Mother’s Notebook

Those who know me well, or who have checked out this blog on occasion, know that the loss of my mother is one of the defining moments of my life. It continues to be it would seem. The process of understanding grief and loss seems to be quite a journey. I’ve gained some new understanding and acceptance of her death in great ways…especially in the past few years.

I was journaling the other night. Something I do regularly, and as I was sitting there realizing how much I enjoy doing that and how positive it is for me, I remembered that years ago my brother had sent me a journal that my mother had kept. It is a journal of quotes and stories that she recorded that are inspirational, many of them about marriage, children, and education. Three things that were very important to her. I’ve had this journal for a long time, and it has sat on my desk in my bedroom ever since Ryan sent it to me. I hadn’t been able to look at it. Something told me to look at it that night.

Meanwhile, leading up to this, I have spent some time deepening my understanding of the process of grief in my life. There are two people I think about with this and feel deeply about in regards to grief, my mother and my former partner which I parted ways with late last year. My feelings among each are intertwined and one affects the other. Each represents a loss of love in my life. How I suppressed that for years in regards to my mom is something I’m trying to avoid in the present, so I’ve been very courageous about being open to these painful feelings regarding both in the past few months. In short, I think I finally felt ready to read her notebook.

When I opened it it hit me like a ton of bricks: seeing her handwriting, looking at what she chose to write about and record in there. Many are simply inspirational quotes. As I read them, I could almost hear them in her voice. That’s a lot to take in. The last time I saw her was over 17 years ago, and I could suddenly remember that morning. I immediately began to cry, and then I read this:
“Be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding just as it should.”
This is from the poem “Desiderata”. I had heard of it but not read it before. It caused a jolt inside of me I have not experienced. I felt as if I picked up this book to hear my own mother who has been gone for 17 years tell me exactly what I needed to hear. I suddenly realized what this book is that I’ve been avoiding looking at for so long: a gift from my mother, her writing and inspiration to be with me now.

And there’s no way, of course, that she could ever know that. From what I can tell, she documented these quotes in 1974 probably when pregnant with my older brother. She didn’t knowing I would see those words in 2013 long after she’d passed and receive such relief and comfort from them.

It also brings sadness. As I read more of them, it makes me wonder why she chose them. What was she going through at the time that these words stuck out to her to give some comfort and direction? For those of us who lose parents as younger people, I think that one of the great losses of that is never getting to know them as adults. We relate so differently as adults, and I always saw mom as mom and not as someone out in the world who has her own joys and worries, heartache and inspiration.

I don’t understand loss a lot of the time, and as I get to know myself better I am beginning to understand that I’m a very sensitive person who has tried for a long time to have a thicker skin than I do. But I am understanding better bit by bit in my slow slow way that the heart grieves these losses to gain the gifts of the experience. By becoming so in touch with how much I loved my mother, and my former partner, it is a lesson in just how much capacity I have for love that I don’t really give myself credit for. The pain of grief is, to me, a lesson in just how much love exists in me. And that s a gift.

I am particularly moved by her final entry which is I think written down as her wish for Ryan, my brother and I. It gives me chills actually. It is a prayer called Reassurance. I consider this journal one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received:

Dear Lord,
Could you spare some Guardian Angels
To give me peace of mind
As my children wander from me
And stretch the ties that bind?

You have heavenly legions, Father.
Could you send me just a few
To guide my eager youngsters
As I give them, Lord, to You?

O thank you, thank you, Father,
And, oh, my glad heart sings.
I’m certain that just now I heard
The swish of passing wings!

Saying Thanks

How often do we say thank you for the gifts we’ve received? Not the stuff like a Christmas present, but the gifts like a lasting thing: a new belief, an awakening, a feeling. I’m not sure I know how to articulate what I mean clearly, but I’m gonna try.

Currently, I’m in the middle of trying to raise money for the Red Ribbon Ride which is a 300 mile bike ride this summer to support several HIV related organizations in Minnesota. I’ve wanted to do it for a few years but until now hadn’t mustered up the courage to actually sign up. I’m not a bike rider really…just a little to and from last summer on my friend’s borrowed bike. But it’s a cause I care greatly about, and friends I know that have done it have had the time of their life.

Plus, I’m not really adept at fundraising. In fact, I dislike it. I hate asking other people for money. But, to ride, you have to raise $1500. In a moment of competitiveness, I decided to make my goal $2000. I kinda figured in my head that sometime in early July I’d be scrambling to ask close friends and family to help me out and I’d pay the rest of it myself.

In a little over a month I have raised $1535 and received donations from 43 people. I’m astonished at this. My strategy (which I stole from a friend who I had seen it be successful for though I wasn’t sure it would be for me)? Thank them individually and publicly. In this process, I found myself wanting to connect back to each of these people. In what way have they touched me? What do I appreciate about them? What memories does it bring back? These people range from a variety of places: friends I see a lot, college friends, grad school friends, elementary school friends even, family friends growing up, coworkers, former students, and current students. Some I haven’t talked to in years. Others I see everyday. But for each one I enjoyed the fact of finding a way to personally say thanks.

But, for many of them, it hasn’t so much been a thank you for the donation. It’s much more than that…more like a thank you for having touched my life kind of thing.

Why did I wait for a financial donation to say thanks? Why don’t we, generally speaking, thank people for what they bring to us? Or maybe you all do this and I’m just catching on. This process has inspired me to be more intentional about letting others know what they mean to me, what they’ve given me. We’ve all given each other so much. None of us are figuring out life on our own, or if we are we aren’t getting very far.

And here’s my other takeaway from this process: we like to be thanked! It feels good to be acknowledged. I am sure that part of the reason this fundraising effort has gone so well is because, at least in part, some people wanted the recognition. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Who doesn’t like to be recognized? If we know that about each other, why don’t we do it more?

I don’t want to be shy in my recognition anymore. I think that’s a false sense of humility…telling myself things like “oh they already know” or “it’s embarrassing to say something like that” or “I don’t know what to say.” 43 public thank yous and I didn’t struggle with what to say to a single one. We know how to thank each other; we simply choose not to.

In one of my leadership programs, I had students identify keys moments and people along their leadership journey. They then were to take some sort of action based on what they learned in mapping their journeys. Almost across the board, they took that opportunity to intentionally thank someone who had made a profound impact on them that they never acknowledged to that person before. What are we waiting for?

We are driven to be connected to each other. Meaningfully. In a myriad of ways. I for one want to be mindful about honoring the unique and simple gifts I receive from those connections with a simple thank you. Not because I got financial support for a charity event I’m part of (that’s just where I learned the lesson), but because it is a simple way of acknowledging our connected existence with each other and the love that gives us.

So, thank you for teaching me that lesson.

Compassion…or something like that

I’ve been wanting to write a blog post for a while now but have really struggled with whether I “should” (I dislike that word) or not. I am cognizant of oversharing, and I am aware that this is a very public arena though I think the only people who read this are my Facebook friends who are either a) bored, b) curious, or c) have a genuine interest in what I have to say. I hope it’s c, but who am I to say?

Anyhow, I’ll just put it out there: I am struggling lately with the idea of love. Big fat loaded love. What is it? How does it show up in the world? How do I love others? Why? How do they love me? And, the biggest thorn in my side lately, how do I love myself?

It’s become clear to me in the past month or so that I struggle with this more than I care to admit, and I struggle right now with publicly admitting it and putting it on the interwebs, but I do so in hopes that it will give me some direction and strategies to move forward.

I have done enough soul searching, personal reflection, transformation experiences, and have enough significant relationships in my life with a variety of people to understand that love is present, and its an important force, so it’s not that I don’t feel love or think that I can’t give love. Then what is it? Well, I guess it’s how I express it. Does it come across? Do others know I love them? Do I know that I love ME?

I spent many years not loving myself in a horrible cycle of addiction. That’s well documented at this point. And I’ve grown a lot in the past few years being a person living a life of recovery searching for spiritual meaning, but I don’t think I’ve yet made the explicit connection that caring for myself the way I try to care for others is an act of love.

There’s a voice in my head that I’ve learned to call the measuring stick. It’s this voice that is constantly wanting to nag me about how I’m measuring up in the world. Sometimes that voice is quieter than others, but its been really loud lately. Maybe we all have that voice? The little tiny Gene Siskel on the shoulder of our life telling us how well the movie is going so far. Not enough romance! The plot is boring! The character development is horrible! If I’m not mindful, I can constantly be assessing how I’m doing according to a measuring stick in my head that has no basis in anything worth listening to, but sometimes I listen anyway.

And this is not an act of love. The minute we are measuring someone else or ourselves against unrealistic expectations we have stopped loving and started doing something else. So how does that change?

And then it hit me! Compassion! Is compassion a place to start? I define compassion as the meaningful connections we create with others. When we connect with people on a deeper level than just the surfaces of our conversations. I do this a lot in my work and with my friends, and it feels sooooo good to do that. And I think that kind of compassion we share in each other’s stories is a source of love.

So how can I show that compassion to myself? How do I create meaningful connections between the shit that can go through my brain and the messages that allow me to thrive in my heart? Do others struggle with this too?

And then there’s patience. Probably a central act to compassion, isn’t it? I ended a relationship with who I thought was the love of my life a mere few months ago. Wouldn’t that throw love out of whack for anyone for awhile? The measuring stick in my head thinks I “should” (there’s that word again) be over it by now. I should be moving on. I should be somewhere, anywhere different than where I am and how I feel right now.

So if you’re still reading, (the measuring stick is telling me this post is too long and disjointed…do I sound crazy yet?) I’d really enjoy hearing your feedback on how you bring love into the world and into yourself. Thanks for listening.

Art of Transformation

December is always a reflective time for me. I think part of it is the holiday season like for many others. And part of it is the ending of the semester. It’s a time to look back and reflect on what’s changed, where things have shifted.

Transformation has been something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. This is for a couple of main reasons. The largest is that transformation is a huge underlying theme in the classes I teach, and therefore how I construct my own thoughts on what I teach. How can you talk about leadership if you don’t address transformation? The other is that over the past few months I have sought out a few specific activities where transformation was the focus in the form of a few yoga retreats as well as a community transformation workshop.

All of this thought and work has guided transformation into a few main key learnings for me. It has helped me organize my thoughts so I figured I would share. I haven’t written in this blog in quite a while and it is something that I find nurturing to do. So seemed like a good way to start up again.

1. Transformation is change
Perhaps this is obvious, but I think it is worth noting. Especially when thinking about transformation on a personal level, it can be for me so easy to want to transform without being truly willing to change. I can look at my life and see areas where improvement would be nice, or a healthy change in habits (I’m looking at you, damn cigarettes) would improve a host of things, or whatever else seems like it needs to shift, but that shift isn’t really possible if I can’t let go of things as they are to allow adaptation to happen. It’s kind of like trying to keep one foot in the plane while attempting to skydive. If you want to transform, you have to be willing to exit the plane.

2. Transformation happens in a place.
One of my main takeaways of my last few years of my journey that was reinforced by the workshops that I went to is the notion that transformation occurs in a space. Anyone who has sat in a circle with a group of people to share stories or life lessons or meditate or whatever can attest to a subtle shift that occurs in that particular space and time. As a not very religious person, it helps me understand the appeal to going to worship in a church or mosque or synagogue. It’s why yoga isn’t nearly as uplifting or invigorating alone while watching a video of it on Netflix (I’ve tried). There’s something cosmic about coming together in a particular space where there is intentionality to positive transformation. Which brings me to…

3. Transformation does not happen in isolation.
Well, at least positive transformation doesn’t. The community transformation workshop I went to in October really was simply two days of gathering together with amazing people and talking in small groups. Asking really deep and meaningful questions. And shift starts to occur. When we relate to each other and listen to each other and talk to each other we are essentially helping each other transform for the better. We learn new ways to think, different perspectives on the world, we may argue and grow from that conflict, we may simply cry and share in someone’s tears. This happened to me today actually. A student came to talk with me who has been having an excruciatingly difficult semester and began to cry. And I cried a bit with her. And we both left the conversation a little bit different than we started it. She probably came in feeling like she was the one whose life really had to transform, but she helped mine transform a bit too.

4. Transformation is a choice.
I have thought long and hard about this last one, and I’m not 100% sure it is always true, but I think positive transformation on a deep and meaningful level is in our own hands. And the hands of those who support us. Sure, we will naturally age whether we like it or not. We will adapt and change out of necessity, but deep and courageous and beautiful transformation I really believe will not happen unless we choose to make it happen. No matter the costs.

After I write these blog posts there’s a part of me that wonders if everyone else has already figured this stuff out and I’m just a bit naive or something. But i guess that doesn’t really matter does it? I am grateful to have a little clarity and awakening to how I can make positive transformation work in my life. I’m at an interesting place again being single. I read my posts from last year when I was in this same place and I have many times almost taken them down, but I keep them up. Yes, I cringe a bit, but they are part of the transformation that i have had about understanding love, courage, commitment, and worth. These are ideas I would not had been able to speak much about on a personal level not that many years ago, but now I can.

I reflect today, a little sad, but with a lot of hope. Because experience tells me that with some new insights and a little time, space, choice, and change all will be well. Thanks for listening.

Holding Out for a Hero?

Are you familiar with that Bonnie Tyler song? Us children of the 80s know it from the movie Footloose. Those of us younger than that may know it as the song the Fairy Godmother sings at the end of Shrek 2. I know it both ways, and I love it. It’s on my “wake me up in the morning” playlist. I have always liked this romanticized notion of not settling for less and waiting for the symbolic white knight. Like it means that I have high standards and ideals and I want them to be matched.

But I’ve started thinking about it in a different way thanks to the incessant tv commercials about the election and how we present information about our leaders. I’m so sick of it and this blog post is not meant to be a rant about the election or who you should vote for. It is instead some of my thoughts and struggles with how we go about choosing who we let lead us…who we choose to follow.

Hero makes me think of superheroes. Batman and Spiderman and whoever swooping in when shit gets really out of control and with the flick of a wrist, a sweep of the cape, everything that looked so insurmountable suddenly is fixed. By superhero powers. Then young boys look up and idolize said caped/masked crusader and think about how they can be him someday. (And, yes, it is usually men.)

But unless we are Peter Parker where a spider bite that would maim most of us but turns him into a studly if not slightly creepy superhero or Bruce Wayne with our billions of dollars and out of this world technological capabilities we are never ever going to a superhero. When the shit hits the fan in a huge way, there is no hero to come in and in seconds save the day.

But I’m beginning to think that this is what we expect of our leaders. In my classes, we talk a lot about the idea that “perfection is not the goal.” We are not trying to be superhuman; we are trying our best to be actual humans. And actual humans have flaws and mess up and switch sides and grow and develop and learn. Over time. Through trial and error. Over many many years.

By expecting our national leaders to be superheroes, well, that present two real problems in my opinion. The first would mean that that expectation represents the notion that leaders somehow possess powers that we don’t and can do things we can’t. That is just not true. We all have a role in cleaning up whatever mess has been made and advocating for a better future. It falls very much in line with the thinking that if I don’t like something, I can’t do anything about it and I need for someone else to come and change it. Obama is not going to personally change your life no matter what he does. Neither is Romney. At the end of the day, YOU are going to change your life.

(I am reminded of something a Religion professor once told me in college: if you ever think of any human being of being larger than life, just imagine them sitting on the toilet. That usually brings them down to right size real quick.)

The second implication, if the above isn’t true, is that we ourselves think we can be superheroes. And that idea is very poisonous. When we think that being more than human is what is needed, then we hide our flaws. We start to feel shame about things we embody that we don’t think are “good enough.” I’ve been there and done that. And the result for me was becoming an alcoholic. And Obama or Michele Bachmann didn’t come and change that. I had to decide to change for myself.

It’s important to reflect what it is we truly admire about others, how we really connect with them. And we connect with others that we can relate to. I have the most admiration in the world for those who dare to share the truth, warts and all, about their own journeys. I can relate to that. I learn to change and grow because others have told me how they did it, and then they help me. I turn, I can help others. That’s the other superhero myth: that one person can save the day. Real change and real hope requires collaboration. Even Batman had a Robin. So I’d like to amend something I said above: it’s not YOU that is going to change your life; it’s you with the love, support, challenge, admiration, and determination of others. Sometimes few. Sometimes a whole city. Sometimes maybe even the whole world. Thats certainly true for me. I’m now a recovering alcoholic because I have a close bond in a community with others and I’m willing to share my journey with them.

So why would we expect our political and national leaders to be any different? I don’t know. But I find it a little disturbing. If we are holding out for a hero to solve our nation’s problems and sitting back and electing different people til we find the right one, then we are going to be waiting waiting waiting for a very very long time.

So, Bonnie Tyler, thanks but no thanks. I’m not holding out for a hero. I’m holding out for real people who have an interest in collaborating to make real change. We may falter, we may fail, but failure is an amazing teacher for me, so I’ll allow it to be for others, too.

Gay Marriage: Why You Should Care

It’s been a while since I’ve written here, and I decided it is time to write again because I need to share with you how it feels to be on this end of the gay marriage debate. I bristle to even write this, but maybe I can publicly help some people understand who might not be sure how to vote come November (if you live in Minnesota) or just in general aren’t comfortable with how to process this.

I’ll be blunt: it really sucks and feels horrible to see commercials, read posts on Facebook, commentary from leaders in organizations like the Boy Scouts and Chick-Fil-A which support denying you the rights that are afforded to “normal” citizens simply because of a part of your makeup that they don’t agree with. It really feels gross that the citizens of your state are voting on whether or not to put in the constitution some exclusions that are a natural given for the majority of people. I am really not looking forward to the commercials that talk about “traditional family” and espouse spin and outright lies that paint glbt people as perverts, godless people, criminals, and other ways that we can be considered less than.

If you aren’t gay, I think the phrase “walk a mile in someone else’s shoes” is very fitting here. How would YOU feel to not have the same rights as others? How would YOU like it if others were voting on whether to etch that lack of rights into your state constitution? It plain sucks.

Look. You don’t have to like it. That’s fine. I understand how religious beliefs and morals and values can present some strong beliefs around a lot of different things, including what marriage should be. But why do you get to decide mine? I have met some people that I thought for one reason or another shouldn’t be getting married, but they still did it anyways. Because it was their choice. What makes someone believe they can live my life for me? Are they willing to have that work both ways?

It is my experience that most people who know someone who is gay have more empathy and understanding, less fear and trepidation. It is those people who can help others understand, too. If you’re reading this that probably means you know me. I’m as gay as they come and I am also not very different from you. Therefore, can you help others understand that just because someone is gay doesn’t make them wrong or gross or marginalized? Because you MUST do that for others to understand. For those who need to hear that message.

I am so fortunate to live in a community, a family, a workplace that supports who I am as I am, but it really hurts in a way that I don’t think I’ve shared before to hear people in high profile, powerful positions talk about how I don’t measure up the same way my heterosexual neighbor, coworker, brother does. On the chick-Fil-a Facebook page there are a bunch people saying they’ll never eat there again because of what their CEO said he supports and there are others who are praising him and vowing to visit more often. Because of what he believes about my right to marry??? Based on his own religious beliefs??? It’s just gross.

Where am I going with this? Am I making any sense? I’m not sure. I’m kind of worked up and a little beat down by all this gay marriage debate I think. If you like in Minnesota, I’m definitely trying to convince you to vote NO in NOvember. This is not a democrats vs. republicans issue. It is a human rights issue. Don’t legislate mine away. If you don’t live in Minnesota, I urge you to look and see how policy is working in your area to limit or expand the ways that glbt Americans are accepted as is in your community. And I am urging everyone to take a second look and reflection about the support and care you offer the glbt community, whether that be your friends, family members, or people you’ve never even met. I’m one of them, and I can tell you from my perspective that right now it is hard to watch and hear what is going on because i internalize it as very personal, and I know I’m not alone.

I am hopeful for change. Please be a part of that change. Much love to you and thanks for reading.

This I Believe

I am huge fan of the This I Believe website and the stories on it. I think it is so powerful to have a platform to share yourself and what you stand for, where that comes from. It’s how we relate to each other: through our core understanding of what draws us together and how we can support each other in our beliefs.

For one of my leadership programs, I asked them to create a belief statement based on the This I Believe idea. Not a whole essay, but just how they would begin it. These are the statements they came up with. I wanted to share them because I find them inspiring. These are graduating college students ready to go out and make a difference in the world. I, for one, am so thankful they are well on their way:

“I believe that everybody deserves to be happy and we are never in a position to judge their happiness.”

“I believe in loving all with selfless and humble actions.”

“I believe in the possibility of people coexisting peacefully.”

“I believe that being part of something bigger than ourselves gives our lives purpose and meaning.”

“I believe that we humans have a purpose. I believe that everyday is a new day and should be approached with intention, optimism, and compassion. I believe that we make our own path and create our own opportunity.”

“I believe that by being selfless, we can achieve compassion, generosity, and awareness of one another. We can make a difference.”

“I believe in sharing is caring. Splitting a meal with people–family style–fills stomachs with food and hearts with love and joy.”

“I believe that community can form anywhere, at any time, as long as there is a sense of purpose and compassion underlying the surface.”

“I believe in giving thanks.”

“I believe in the essence of fire hydrants. Fire hydrants are people. I believe in the equality of all people.”

“I believe that it takes only one person to make a difference in the world. These differences come in the form of personal interaction, and that one can indirectly effect thousands of people through a ripple effect as your attitudes, values, and ideas are spread throughout the world.”

“I believe in the full capacity of others to surprise you with the merit of their ideas.”

Ahhhh…kinda comforting, isn’t it? Our world is in good hands.