responding to surprising times (ideas for responding to the election)

I have worn a bracelet, given to me by my friend Cathie Jo, for 20 years. If I’ve ever removed it, I can’t remember when. On it is written some of the greatest words of comfort ever penned. “You can never go down the drain. Mr. Rogers.” I’ve been clinging to this promise as the swirling forces of unrest and the ambient pressure of cultural upset have invaded every corner of this week. In surprising, unsettling times it can be easy to grasp at whatever is graspable in order to avoid going down the drain of despair, of anger, or, even, of glee and gloating. I want to share, today, some thoughts about how we might stop grasping and start grounding. How we might survive the bath even when it scares us. Even when there is real reason to be afraid. 

I have been on a media fast since Tuesday night at 10 p.m. I have not read or watched any news coverage. I have switched my car radio from NPR to the local classical music station. Not a regular Facebook user, I have logged in to my professional account once this week to post a status encouraging folks to put their devices away. I have not engaged social media at all. I chose a similar response pattern following the crisis of 9/11. Knowing that I did not personally need images or editorialism to help me connect emotionally to the situation, I chose to use any time that I might have consumed media to simply hold the victims and their families and all parties making decisions about our national responses in the Light and Love of God. I am choosing that approach this week because I want to be clear headed and open hearted as I deal with the initial fall out of a situation I cannot control.

In a dedicated effort to put only meaningful content out in the world have written draft after draft of this post. I have written the political version, the therapist version, and the gender and race based versions. I have written the version filled with swearing and the version filled with tears and stunned silent spaces. I started a theological and faith based version and ended up deleting the whole 4 pages in a fit of utter frustration. I am choosing to post this version, filled with what I want to share with my niece and nephew, the thousands of young adults I have been blessed to interact and make friendships with in the last two years, my own kids and my “extra” kids, my clients and my friends about how we might best respond when faced with situations that make no sense, are largely out of our control, and spark fear or concern in our bellies and our hearts. 

It feels important to share that the events of this week’s election coincide with the end of 17 months of travel (for speaking, research, and writing) for me wherein I have had my most profound, prolonged “Come to Jesus” moment about privilege, bias, and what Walter Wink refers to as “the Powers that Be.” I have made friendships in parts of my country heretofore unknown to me. I have been in Ferguson, Missouri (thank you Chris), affluent, gentrified, and hurting parts of Philadelphia (thank you Gage, et al), Ivy League Princeton (thank you Mackenzie and Mark), rural Western Pennsylvania, Nashville (thank you Heather),  rural Arkansas (thank you Tracy), rural Kentucky (thank you Sarah and Clint), and in many other urban and rural parts of the West, Midwest, South, and East. I have pushed myself into experiences on all points of the religious, political, and cultural continuums in order to try to understand where people are coming from and what drives them. I have born witness to the devastation of racial discrimination, I have witnessed (and experienced) bullying, and I have heard stories of countless young individuals who have experienced all manner of shunning and shaming simply for being who they were born to be. If I, a middle aged, cisgender, straight, resourced white doctor, feel overwhelmed by what I have witnessed and learned, how can I hope to imagine what is has been/is like to experience all of life in this country as part of a marginalized or misunderstood community?

This year stretched and re-organized me and I was emerging from it, long before last Tuesday, determined to fight elitism, heirarchy, and domination in as many ways as I can. Believing that I was put on this earth to help individuals findwhat George Fox (the founder of the Quaker movement) referred to as “that of God” within them, after this year I am more confident than ever that we are created equal, that every single one of us is intended to live rich, complex, fiery lives, that we deserve attachment and safe community, and that our humanity has created a system that privileges some individuals and oppresses others. I believe that we all contain immense light alongside plenty of dark and I believe that no one is immune from this, especially me. While everything in me wants to call out the dark in others, I feel more strongly called to the struggle of determining how to effectively and actually live out what I say when I say that Love must win out over hate.  

This life and this year have changed me. I am no longer able to live comfortably surrounded by people just like me. I must be a celebrator of diversity. I must set a table at which everyone is welcome. I must work to acknowledge my privilege and the powers that work actively and passively to oppress others. I must live in such a way that justice and Love are siblings. As my friend Tyler says, if I believe that there is that of God in everyone then I NEED everyone’s voice and presence to understand God and to experience the fullness of life.

This means I need to love those I disagree with. It means I need to find a way to respond non-violently to even my “enemy.” This week, and this year, this is difficult for me.

When things feel topsy turvy, don’t make sense, and feel as though they are sucking me toward the drain I have several options in response. I can become reactive, spewing my insides and acting out. I can become paralyzed, isolated, and afraid, reinforcing my fear by the simple response of inactivity. I can become overwhelmed and depressed or manic and out of control. I can also, however, choose to respond from a place of centeredness and calm. This is the response I hope to encourage with the following thoughts, ideas, and reflections. So, if I were given the opportunity to suggest five things to do in response to this week’s election to the people I care deeply for, they would be the following.

Find your center and work to function from an internal locus of control.

While there are understandable needs to be informed and aware (especially for certain people), there is likely nothing to be gained right now from listening to one more inciting news story, reading one more editorial, or scrolling yet again through one’s Facebook feed. Put down the phone, turn off the laptop. Drive in silence. The news, social media, and the noise can wait for periods of time while we find our center and experience our core. Our dependence upon and preference for hyper-connectedness does not serve us well when we, and those around us, are reactive and affectively dysregulated. Even if we are using media to stay safe or to organize, we will be most effective if we do so from a very grounded center and a filtered receptivity.

Most of us currently live from what I refer to as an External Locus of Control (with the word “locus” meaning “center”). We have acclimated to living life at such a hyper extended range and accelerated pace that we rarely take time for the kind of stillness required to be able to assess our emotional, intellectual, and physical well being. Unable to tolerate focused quiet and bereft of experience with the messy feelings we experience therein, we crave distraction or hand holds outside of our selves. This creates a vicious cycle where we feel dysregulated (sped up, anxious, depressed, manic) by the occurrences around us but incapable of stepping away to find our center. Instead we seek to be well-informed, well-entertained, or well-distracted which turns us back toward forces outside of our selves rather than within.

When we are our healthiest we live from a deeply developed sense of self and a well established internal locus of control. We seek to understand our thoughts and feelings and to give them voice or to resolve them as needed. We can look to our own selves to find strength and determination as well as comfort (a good nap, a long cry, screaming in the car), empathy and humility. We can be in relationship to others as whole inter-dependent individuals without being dependent upon them to validate us. We can attach and detach from others and from information sources without anxiety or fear, knowing that we are solid in and of our selves.

This is why I choose to fast from media in times of unrest and crisis (and I recognize that my privilege allows me to do so). I want to make my own assessments before I listen to others. I want to wrestle with my own emotional reactions so that I can come to the information I will receive in less unconsciously biased and reactive ways. I need to get grounded and regulated before I engage with a world of others who may or may not have done the same. While I need to be informed about and prepared for what will happen in the days ahead, my ability to be fully present to the moment I am in is of immense importance. I have very little control over the world at large and huge control over how I respond to and live within it. I choose to do so from a grounded center and an internalized locus of control.

Some simple ideas for finding your center:

Do a brain dump. On a piece of plain paper write everything that comes to your mind for five minutes. Try to release it from your mind as you write. Leave it on the paper. Take some deep breaths and re-enter your day imagining a clean slate from which to start.

Find a physical center. Standing with both feet hip width apart and firmly on the floor, feel your feet and imagine flattening them to make a very steady base. Slowly and with your eyes closed, rock gently back and forth and side to side while keeping your feet flat on the ground. Move your body in circles, experimenting with where you feel most centered. When you find that space stretch your head upward to lengthen your spine. Experiment with grounding your feet and lengthening your body, breathing deeply and feeling centered and stable.

Practice some mindfulness meditations. Some of my favorite of these can be found here. If you are a person who experiences a relationship with Divine Presence/God/a Higher Power there is a meditation for you on my website which can be found here.

(I hope you'll check back in later today for more ideas for how to handle surprises.)

an open letter to anyone who has ever texted me (or who ever plans to)

dear friend/family member/colleague/or other person who has ever texted me,

i just finished aziz ansari’s fantastic book modern romance and am feeling both enlightened and horrible. enlightened because he brilliantly illuminates what it’s like to be a young adult in the world in 2016 and horrible because i’ve been blind to potential messages i’ve been sending simply by receiving your texts. while i knew that many of you might have expectations regarding texting etiquette, i had no idea that i was, very likely, triggering all sorts of assumptions given my haphazard way of using my phone.

to put it plainly, i was clueless that you might be making assumptions about your relative importance to me based upon the length of my responses and/or the time it takes me to respond at all. 

i. was. clueless.

here’s the deal. i don’t always carry my phone. sometimes i leave it in my backpack unchecked for hours at a time. several days in a row, recently, i forgot it at home on the counter next to the coffee pot. while i remembered my coffee cup but not my phone when i left the house, it truly doesn’t mean that my coffee is more important to me than you are. i have not forgotten YOU. you matter to me. regardless of how long it takes me to respond or how short my response might be. 

since i don’t check my phone when i’m with people or writing or walking or driving or eating or doing any number of things, when i do reference it i often have many (many many many many) more texts and voice mails than i can meaningfully respond to right away. in addition, as a person to whom communication matters a great deal, i tend to want to respond to all incoming messages with intention and meaning. it truly never occurred to me that the ratio of my words to yours or the lag time between them might communicate more loudly (or at least as loudly as) the words themselves.

now, however, i’m realizing that we may think very differently about that. you might prefer speed and carefully considered text length ratios over everything else. you might actually be feeling uncared for/disregarded/or (the worst ever) manipulated by my response time or text lengths. for that, i am sorry.

being aware of this has made me empathic in all kinds of new (and stretching) ways. now i understand more clearly why some of you respond to incoming texts even when we’re in the middle of a deep discussion, therapy session, walk in the park, or ordering our dinner. i get it now. i still may not love it but i get it. i also have increased empathy for those of you frustrated at my (or your grandmother’s, boss’, gardener’s, or whomever’s) lag and/or brevity in responding. we might not connect entirely on our philosophy about and engagement with communication via text but at least i understand the issues at play and the way in which the disconnect might play out.

so, thank you for being connected to me on this bizarre, beautiful, and bountiful journey that is life in 2016. i’m glad, actually, that we have texting as a way of communicating and want to use it effectively. when my version of “effectively” and yours don’t match and you begin to wonder what i’m thinking, where i’ve gone, or what i mean, please ask. i’d rather speak truth than have you wonder and truth is that you matter a lot but that my phone doesn’t as much. as a result, i’m likely holding you in my thoughts far more than holding my phone in my hands. and, when you can’t (or don’t) ask, read this as my default response whenever you need:

thank you for your text. i’m glad you reached out. it may take me a while to reach back simply because of my weird relationship with my phone and the pace at which my life is moving these days. please know that you and this message matter to me. if you need an answer (beyond this) more quickly than you receive one, please please reach back out and tell me that. otherwise, assume that i am holding you in light and love and hoping for you tangible reminders of your immense value and that i will respond in kind in time.

it may not be quippy, short, or clever but it’s my truest intention and one i hope you’ll receive and trust.

you matter (to me and to the world). please know that to your core.

doreen

a quick p.s. to everyone (even those who never, ever text me):

i think this disconnect in communication styles, expectations, and preferences might be happening a lot out there and i want to help us all be informed about this. awareness and open communication seems better than a whole lot of folks sitting around feeling frustrated at either too quick or too slow response times or too many or too few words. for this reason, why not suspend your assumptions when someone doesn’t respond or when someone you are with responds to the texts of others in your presence? why not talk face to face (or at least voice to voice) before assuming that you are being played or ignored? if you are a person who doesn’t stay close to your phone why not let those who text you know this? when beginning a texting relationship with someone it might be worth addressing how you each use (or don’t use) your devices to prevent misunderstanding. it may seem laborious but i believe it’s less so than laboring under false assumptions. communication is difficult regardless of how it is dispensed. working to make it clearer and better is always worth work in my mind. how about yours?

offering what you have (becuase it is likely [more than] enough)

i love sending packages to kids at camp (or adults on extended vacations, at rehab, or, anywhere, really). this year, in my frantic race to get parcels mailed to four campers, i made some kind of crazy grave error and all four were returned to my own mailbox for an assortment of reasons. last year i was more successful when my nephew came to oregon for camp knowing no one and having never been to over night camp. wanting my packages to be interactive, i placed items in them that he could share with his cabin mates and new friends. ethan is people smart and loves sharing so i pictured him receiving these silly items and excitedly passing them out amongst his fellow campers. this fell at the beginning of the stick-on mustache craze and the package i was most tickled with had bubble gum and a ruler (for a bubble blowing competition) and two packages of stick-on mustaches. toward the end of the week i realized i was disappointed that i hadn’t spotted a single mustache in any of the photos that the camp staff had posted throughout the week. a day or so after he was home i asked him if he’d had fun passing them out. he looked at me incredulously but with complete sincerity. “i didn’t give them to anyone.” he said. surprised and confused i asked, “why not?” “because no one ever asked me for one” he said as though this was as obvious as the nose on his face.

to him this matter was crystal clear. since no one had expressed desire for a press-on mustache all week, why in the world would he offer them one? i, on the other hand, could only think, “why in the world would anyone think to ask you for a press-on mustache?” wehaven’t spoken of the incident since but i think about this interchange often as it highlights a dynamic i encounter nearly every day. 

there are so many things that get in the way in regards to our giving. the most obvious of these is our imagining that what we have to offer is only meaningful/valuable/desired if it is asked for. since ethan’s own reaction to receiving mustaches (something he himself had never even thought of asking for) was one of ambivalence he didn’t perceive them as having value and never even thought of offering them to others. this happens all the time in small and subtle and huge and obvious ways. the only commodity someone has is time but they assume that what is most needed is money or a specific skill. a person is gifted at doing “behind the scenes” tasks yet feels certain that an “up front” person is what is needed so never offers up her “gift.” a community member makes a killer tuna casserole but assumes there is no one in the world that needs another one of those. 

since no one is asking, deliberately, for what we have to offer we make no offer at all.

this holding back because we aren’t actively asked happens for a myriad of reasons. at the root of most of these is fear. fear of risking the offering. fear of looking foolish. fear of rejection. fear of not finding the PERFECT place to give our gift(s). fear of not having the “right” thing or gift or commodity and being judged or dismissed as a result.

with some distance i can see ethan’s perspective. he’s at a camp with a couple hundred 10-13 year old boys, a demographic not known for their relational graciousness, open mindedness, and creative and out of the box thinking within a group. on day four of camp, as his cabin mates are preparing for archery, fishing, adventuring of all kinds, and meal time “who can eat the most (fill in the least nutritious offering they can find at the table) today” competitions, ethan approaches them and asks, “might i interest you in a press-on mustache?” i can totally see this offering falling flat at best and being met with obvious “what the heck does that have to do with anything and why in the world would i want one of those???” and “you are one bizarre kid” confused responses at worst. it makes sense that he made no offers.

the longer i live the more i believe that life is richer when i actively seek out opportunities to contribute. this is true regardless of the size or nature of the contributions. offering what i have in order to benefit another/others engages me with my community, contributes to feelings of value, and pushes me outside of myself. 

contributing/giving need not always require me to offer what i do not have already. in fact, with a bit of deliberate thought and some creativity, i can typically find ways to meaningfully offer that which i already have or that which is easy for me to give. sometimes all that is required is a bit more thought and investment of time and energy. a few examples to illuminate my point:

i always have a few items of clothing that need to be passed along. i keep a bag in my closet and force myself to fill it, over time, with things i wear that i realize i don’t feel great in. when it’s full, rather than simply dropping it at the nearest goodwill i have found two organizations that gift clothing to families in need. it takes an extra 10 minutes to get to these locations but the pay off, which is a result of using what i have (research skills to find the organizations, a few extra minutes a couple of times a year, and clothes i need to pass along), is beyond worth it.

referring back to ethan, as a people smart kid his best and easiest gift to give is his ability to interact with people. realizing this, my brother and sister in law got him involved with the red cross when he was very young. he would volunteer at blood drives by handing out cookies and juice and often loaning his blankie to individuals who had just given blood.

my friend jack is an amazing musician. for years, he and his family vacationed at the same beach town with a group of friends who spent their evenings gathering and playing music together at whatever home they had rented. having gotten to know the residents of this coastal town, jack and his family and friends came to greatly respect a local resident who hosted an elaborate hot dog stand every summer to fund his foundation. this organization (the mudd-nick foundation) helps children in the area by funding enriching experiences, college visits, and providing leadership opportunities and mentorship. jack and his family (sue, katy, and emma) joined with their friends and began playing music at the hot dog stand, hoping that it might increase traffic and funds for jim’s foundation. this has become a summer tradition and, this past summer, jim announced that the muddogs (the name of the always morphing group of talented musicians who set up each morning and play mind-blowingly good music on their make shift stage) had not only brought joy to the summer stand routine but had also raised almost $4000 in tips that have gone to the organization. in using what they have and offering it creatively, a community of talented musicians and some sound equipment, the buddecke’s make an important and valuable contribution. this particular offering gives not only to the foundation but also offers some of us who have chosen non-music based paths an opportunity to perform with a band in a supportive and fun setting (last week, while playing in an urban fountain in portland, i was approached by a family who identified me as the singer from the hot dog stand band...that was a very cool moment!). we all both give and get gifts in this scenario. (in fact, jim mudd, who spent his professional years in sales and now runs the foundation, steals the show in the best possible way every summer. you can see him do so in the video below.)

my sister-in-law’s mother is a talented quilter. realizing that the families of still born babies get only a tiny bit of time with their precious ones and that that time is forever all they have, janet makes blankets for these wee ones to be wrapped in while they are being held by their grieving parents. her gift is generous beyond words and grows from a skill and talent that is natural for her.

another sewing friend found a community of immigrants who had no access to clothing familiar and comfortable to them. she found a location willing to offer her weekly space and began teaching simple sewing classes. over time she has gathered donated sewing machines and fabric and has expanded to more lessons each week. she gets to teach a skill and offers others the opportunity to give what they have (machines and fabric) plus contribute greatly to a group who can increasingly support themselves.

there are thousands of examples of this kind of “offering what you have boldly, bravely, and creatively” giving. there are people who keep a flat of water bottles or box of power bars in their passenger seats to hand to people who need them. there are dedicated folks who send encouraging mail to prisoners, the troops, and kids in the foster care system. there are others who spend time each week reading with kids at their local schools or to residents at nearby retirement homes (some employers actually offer work time for such volunteer efforts). there are musicians who play music during meals at nursing homes and on hospital floors. their are folks who mow ailing neighbors’ lawns. one powerful human i know recently organized her church community in fully furnishing a home for and helping with the arrival of a refugee family of seven from syria. she has mad administrative and relational skills and offered them beautifully and generously.

so, ask yourself the following questions and find what is easy to give. push past the fear and offer your creatively considered and presented gift. the world may not realize that it needs your version of the press-on mustache so many never ask for it but, in reality, who couldn’t use exactly what you have to offer?

some questions to help you on your way:

what are the things you love to do or that are easy for you to do? 

what do you have an excess of or easy access to? time? money? energy? possessions? a specific skill?

what do you see as trash/unnecessary that could actually be used by another? (classic examples of this are the “box tops for education” that get recycled but that could be saved and sent to a school aged child to bring in to their schools and the ronald mc donald house pop tab collection program which should absolutely be checked out by everyone. click here)

how might you enhance the gifts you already give by doing just a tiny bit more research or outreach? (e.g: rather than dropping donations at the easiest spot, seek out a shelter program that gives your donations to displaced families/individuals. or, to make a bigger impact, invite others to participate with you in your giving.)

what stops you from offering? how can you address this and move past the fear to making an effort to give? (i find that a huge issue here is the fact that we now have more places to do research than ever. in our efforts to find the perfect organization or opportunity we end up using valuable time we could have used to just give within. push yourself to do “good enough” research and to then just get on with the giving. truly. sometimes just doing the thing is better than continuing a search for the perfect thing.)

if you can’t think of how you might offer what you already have, who is a creative and observant person in your life who might be able to help you determine what gifts you have to offer and who might be open to receiving them?

muddogs with jim mudd check out the important work of the mudd nick foundation: http://muddnickfoundation.org

re-naming the normal & re-making the mundane (or, how to honor your self & neighbor)

I’ve never been a fan of the word “normal.” We use it both to build ourselves up (“At least I’m normal”) and to tear ourselves down (“I’m so average/normal”). We apply it to all manner of people, things, and events in our lives to completely bland effect. Too often we use it to dismiss important passages or accomplishments and this carries a cost.

With so many of our experiences falling genuinely into the category of “normal” it seems important to me that we develop competence in the magic of elevating, at times, the mundane and monotonous. What better super power to develop than that of re-naming or converting the normal into something of recognized value? Of infusing meaning into the every day experiences that are too often passed by. 

I recently ordered spiced watermelon seeds at a tea shop. They arrived in a beautiful tiny ceramic bowl with an accompanying bowl in which to discard the shells. Having been soaked in a cardamom, anise, and green tea brine the instructions were to suck on them, shell them, and eat the insides like sunflower seeds. It struck me how elevated this typically discarded part of the melon had now become. Rather than being the thing I avoided while digging in to the sweet red fruit, these seeds were now center stage and shining. Somehow this changed how I will eat watermelon forever. That, to me, is a beautiful effect of re-naming the normal.

When we look for ways of repurposing our ordinary experiences, of elevating normal moments in order to add zip or spice or energy to our days, we give life the opportunity to teach us and bless us now and in the future. We can do this in ways large and small. We can send a text to someone affirming who they are as a person or thanking them for some amazing action they put out into the world. We can write and mail a letter to the same effect. We can buy a 99 cent poster board, a sharpie, and some fishing line and make a sign announcing to the world a wonderful trait about a friend and hang it in a tree outside their residence or work (Thank you neighbor Lynn for this amazing idea and for hanging “honk if you love doreen” signs on my tree every year on my birthday). We can surprise someone with a cup of coffee or tea with all the traits we love in them written on the cup. We can simply look someone in the eyes and tell them exactly why we are glad that they are in the world. We can honor them for simply getting out of bed or for whatever other grand things they have survived or surmounted.

Or we can notice the ordinary and normal things we, ourselves, are moving through. We can take actions from the silly to the sublime to mark these accomplishments and honor our selves. What about writing, in washable marker, all the things that you carry that are difficult or stressful all over your arms and legs, paying attention to how much effort you exert each day just to carry your responsibilities. Once you have validated and affirmed the great burden you carry, take a shower or bath with an amazingly fragrant new soap to honor all that you are carrying and to symbolize some moments of relief? Why not sit down and write out a certificate of honor, thanking your very own self for the ways you have cared for a person, task, or cause? 

It’s not so much empty or one-time praise that I am wanting to emphasize here. Instead, I’m referring to paying attention to the human need for affirmation and the spiritual need for ceremony and “markings” of all kinds. Without consciously recognizing the many small (or huge) accomplishments and milestones we navigate through in the course of our every day existences our lives can become monotonous at best and seemingly meaningless at worst. 

When I turned 13 my dad rented a tux, gave me money for a new dress, borrowed a friend’s fancy car and took me out for a nice dinner. My mom did the same for my brother when he turned 13. My husband and I continued this tradition when our kids hit 13 and added an element borrowed from my friend Judi, inviting important adults to stop by the house in 10 minute increments to offer blessings and/or words of affirmation to each. My nephew, Ethan, just turned 13 and I had the honor of being a part of his day of blessings. As I witnessed this through the eyes of a 13 year old boy I was struck by how rare and completely beautiful ceremonies of this kind are in today’s economy. Let me explain.

In the hyper-connected and commented-upon world that we inhabit we are more hungry for being seen, for eye contact, and for meaningful embodied connection than ever. We are also entirely squeamish at the thought of these things. Time moves quickly and asynchronously. We watch everyone’s meaningful moments in a never ending Facebook or Instagram feed but rarely stop to really let what is happening sink down deep into our consciousness. We hardly ever stop to validate or honor rites or passage or every day “normal” accomplishments in ways that don’t include a camera and hashtag.

When my brother revealed to my nephew what the “surprise” on the calendar consisted of, Ethan was pretty disappointed. He had imagined an exciting event, not a stream of people coming over to talk to him. Knowing he is people smart, we all assumed he’d be over the moon and were a bit caught off guard by his disappointment. After the second 10 minute FaceTime session and before the first in-person honoring, however, Ethan was quite literally bursting with joy. “I LOVE this!” he declared. Come to find out, having people tell you what they appreciate about you or taking some action to honor you is good for the soul. Even the soul of a 13 year old boy (perhaps especially for a 13 year old boy). His pastor came and gave him a blessing, a friend Skyped in from Sierra Leone Africa, his former teachers told him what they saw and valued in him, his little sister wrote a beautiful letter to him. A peer did a magic trick as a symbol for honoring a trait in him. People took time to stop and recognize a person. All for a normal event… that of entering into adolescence.

While honoring someone in the way that Jeremy and Judy honored Ethan takes some pre-planning, there are many ways that we can re-name the every day accomplishments of our selves or those we live among. Here are some ideas, gleaned as I witnessed Ethan’s day of honoring, that might guide us.

See and grab hold of the opportunity in every day happenings (aka Don’t wait for the perfect opportunity, instead, use the present one):

We “sleep walk” through momentous occasions every single day. We make it through grief stricken anniversaries, we get promotions (or we don’t and we still go to work), we move up a grade (or back one), we have landmark birthdays (or the ones in between), we get through another day of sobriety (the ones that aren’t marked with a coin or special noticings), we give up a habit, add a mile to our run, or tackle that closet/desk drawer/room that has been screaming to be de-cluttered. Re-naming the ordinary or normal infuses the difficult things we do every day with the meaning that is deserved. Don’t wait for some monumental opportunity. Instead, look for what you or someone you care about has managed today and find a way to honor it for what it is.

Working with what you have:

In between those that were physically present or who Skyped in to Ethan’s day of blessings, we showed him videos or read him letters that had been contributed by individuals who couldn’t be present that day. One was sent by my friend Judi. As I opened it I noticed Olympic rings and immediately wished I had a medal stand, a medal, and the Olympic theme music at hand. Rather than stopping the flow in order to seek out and physically add these elements to make it “perfect” I simply scanned the environment for a raised surface and instructed Ethan to stand on it. Once there I loudly sang the Olympic anthem and proceeded to read the letter (which was about Ethan being the youngest ever recipient of a gold medal in People Smartness) as though Ethan was winning the most prestigious honor ever. I used a loud announcers voice and my brother and sister in law played along, snapping photos and cheering. Sure, we could have stopped the process and dug up a medal, purchased the song off of iTunes, and constructed a medal stand but we didn’t need to. As long as we are willing to play things up, to possibly look silly, and to lean into the honoring boldly, what we have is all we need. We don’t need props, we just need a belief in the power of elevating the moment.

Consider the recipient:

In elevating Ethan’s birthday, the plan to involve others was intentional, given his extreme people smart strengths. Even still, before the day began he felt disappointed. In his mind, the special day marked on the calendar was filled with all kinds of things. Disneyland and an iPhone were chief among these dreams/wishes. We could have been angry with him when he seemed disappointed. We’d put all this thought into a huge plan and he was not reacting as we’d hoped. In hind sight I wish we would have thought about the fact that, even though he would love it as it happened, building it up as a surprise wasn’t in keeping with his 13 year old self. The event was perfect in the long run, the presentation at the start was less than ideal. It’s important to be aware of our audience and also to be ready to have things flop. When we hold our own efforts loosely and have the recipient’s best wishes and self in mind we will actually enjoy the experience even more, knowing we are moving past our selves and deeply into the other.

When we are determining a way of honoring someone in our life it’s important to take time to consider how they communicate and receive love/care. Are they a word person? A gift person? Do actions always speak louder than words to this person? Would they prefer to receive the honoring in private or would a public display be meaningful? In what ways do we need to move past our own preferred forms of expression to speak effectively to this other. Keep in mind, however, the point above and work with what you have. Don’t over-think it to the point of talking yourself out of taking action.

Just do it:

If you are new to the idea of using creativity to infuse energy into the every day it might be easy for you to think, “This is all too much.” Try to push past this and find your own small (tiny even) way of re-naming a normal experience for yourself or someone else. Keeping the 3 points above in mind doesn’t mean obsessing or working toward perfection. The goal here is “good enough,” taking small risks, and being willing to try something new in honoring rites of passage and small, every day, normal accomplishments. It’s not to plan or execute a huge event. It’s to usher in a new way of seeing and honoring those you live amongst (including your self).

This time of year is rife with opportunities to elevate the normal. Children, adolescents, young adults, and teachers are starting back to school. Many business people are ending fiscal years. The days are shortening. Gardens are peaking. If you find this post at a time other than summer, whatever time of year you are in is also rife with opportunities. Below are some questions that, when engaged, might help you find a person to honor and some ways in which to do that. If the person is you, that’s o.k. too.  We all need recognition. We thrive when we realize the mighty in the mundane tasks we tackle every day and when we validate our efforts in meaningful ways. 

Finding the honoree:

Who, in your life, has experienced a transition of some type in the last several months? Think of those who have changed homes or jobs, lost an important person, overcome an unhealthful habit, created a new healthy way of life, or some such transition.

Who, in your life, has traits about them that are counter cultural and, thus, not always valued by those they live amongst?

Who, in your community, is the person who you find always doing all the celebrating of others? This person hosts all the gatherings, brings meals, babysits, coordinates, and does all of this with very little recognition. 

What, in your own life, have you overcome, walked through, or accomplished that is in need of being recognized?

Finding the method of honoring/re-naming the normal:

Consider a meaningful (words, actions, shared time, gift) way of recognizing this person keeping in mind not obsessing, taking small risks to recognize the other, using what you have (rather than stopping because you don’t have something or you want it to be perfect), and what will be meaningful to the recipient.

Set a date that doesn’t allow you to back out or obsess or put more into this than you can afford. Remember, the goal is to make this a new way of living, to fit it into your everyday, not to resent your self or the other for the effort you extend.

Carry out your plan and celebrate your own accomplishment in doing so!

Ethan being honored and blessed by Cami in Sierra Leone Africa

what i learned at summer camp (part 3)

I believe that we have much to learn by serving on teams and in communities, especially if those teams/communities are comprised of people who are different from us, who we have been placed alongside by (beautiful) chance rather than by (hand-picked) choice, and who come together to work toward a shared intention. Over the years I have gotten to serve on these kinds of teams as a staff member at summer camp. Each time I have offered a summation of the things that I have learned because I believe that we all have much to gain from sharing our experiences. 

This summer I was honored to have the opportunity to travel to Northern Ireland to experience camp with a community of beautiful, unique, creative, authentic, engaged, and deeply loved young adult Quakers. These individuals welcomed me authentically and taught me much. They included me, encouraged me, and allowed me to speak love/Love/LOVE into their midst. While I could write for days about the inexplicably deep relationships created during those days, I will simply highlight some major learnings that I feel could benefit the world. May some of these inspire you to find your own team in which to invest and then to share your learning with those of us who need it to grow. For some visuals to go along with the words, check out my drdoreendm instagram account. The photos and videos of the "It's a Knock Out" competition alone are worth a peek.

1    There exists a community of youth and young adults who can be still and silent (for significant lengths of time), create meaningful community, and live side by side free of the distractions of digital devices even when they have access to them. Campers at Moyallon spend a portion of their first evening coming up with a set of community guidelines to affirm. Very early in the process (right after Jonny suggested “No Malarkey” which was my personal favorite of them all) someone suggested limiting the use of digital devices in order to be present to each other. There was clear community support. Over and over throughout the week I noticed a marked absence of cell phones even though campers and staff had full access to them. Beyond this I found an ease in the stillness and quietness that this group shared. The hour long time of silence on Sunday morning was free of fidgeting and nodding off. Each evening, before bed, the assembled group sat in spacious silence together. In the community gathering around the fire on the final evening, a full 30 minutes of rich, deep silence commenced before anyone felt led to speak. During these times people looked both up and around, comfortable with eye contact even during intense silence. No one giggled or interrupted the quiet out of discomfort. They simply let it be and from it came insights and connection that could be found no other way. Communal silence is important and can be achieved. Even with/especially with youth and young adults. We are all benefitted by facilitating and creating these kinds of spaces and experiences.

2    Bigger is not always better (and less is sometimes more). After a year of speaking in large banquet halls and auditoriums I felt real anxiety when I learned that the campers and staff at Moyallon together numbered under 40 and ranged in age from 14 to 50. It’s a very different thing to garner and hold the attention of 1,000 demographically alike individuals than to do so with 40. With a big room and a large audience, charisma can fill in the cracks. With asmall room and intimate participant group, authenticity and genuine care for both your subject and the people you’re sharing it with are required for any kind of effectiveness. Smoke and mirrors, glitter and concealer won’t work. The only way to hope to create a compelling space for learning with a small group with whom you will be living for a week is to enter in authentic, humble, and human ways. 

I can’t help but think that this applies to much of the way that we interact with others in all of life these days. A status update intended for hundreds is different than a conversation between myself and a trusted other. So much of our lives online (and, many times, off line as well) are weighed and measured by the size of our “audience.” This often leaves us relying on a carefully curated public persona to keep our followers interested and coming back for more. I wonder how it might change our way of being in the world to focus more on authenticity, on being known for who we genuinely are rather than as who we present ourselves to be and on seeking to know others for who they really are rather than for who they feel they must present themselves as being. To tackle the unconscious message that more is better by concentrating in deliberate ways on the smaller groups to whom we belong and matter than to the larger groups we amass may be vulnerable but may be important for keeping our relational needs truly addressed. 

3    The desires to know one’s self honestly, to understand one’s unique gift to the world, and to feel grounded are universal. Regardless of age, station in life, community, gender, or any other personal identifier, all of us long to feel centered, to be able to live from a place of balance, to have the courage and opportunity to know both our strengths and weaknesses, and to feel capable of working with both. Every day we are given the opportunity to live from what I refer to as an internal locus of control, functioning in accordance with our deepest values and calls. We can be true to who we are meant to be and what we are meant to do in this world or we can allow our feelings and beliefs about ourselves to be driven by others. The truth is, however, that living from a place of informed self knowing awareness is hard work and requires space, teaching, and the presence of a community who will accept and value who we genuinely are. Places like Moyallon provide these components, offering spaciousness for personal exploration and re-setting and for the point that follows.

4    Seeing others for who they genuinely are, looking them in the eye, and telling them that they are recognized and valued has the potential to change both the see-er and the seen. It blows my mind how meaningful it is to have someone look me in the eye and recognize something truly honest about me. Further, I am struck by how few natural opportunities the world provides us with to do this. At Moyallon I sought intentional ways of creating this kind of encounter and noticed the ways that others did the same. The “cuppa,” Northern Irish for sitting down with a cup of tea for a chat and rest, was one such recurring time. Using the time to affirm those I sat with blessed me more than them I am sure. It gave me the opportunity to find things in each of them that inspired me to be a better person. I could go on and on about what each of them inspired in me (and will in another place).  In an attempt to offer an American version of the cuppa for the campers and staff, I offered to apply temporary tattoos that fit the theme I spoke on to anyone who wanted one. It became an opportunity to sit, face to face with each person while the water worked its magic, adhering the tattoo to the skin. I decided to use this time to name unique traits and gifts that I saw in each person and I cannot tell you how deeply meaningful this was for me. It felt as though I was getting to be part of sacred moments of intimate connection and grace. If I could repeat a single time at camp, it would be this one where I got to thank each person for gifting the world with them self. I tell you, this is worth doing in whatever way you can as often as you can. If you can’t think of a way of doing it face to face then do it in whatever way you can: writing, singing, texting. Just do it. It is humbling, uncomfortable-in-every-good-and-stretching-way, connecting, squirm-inducing, and simply the best thing ever.

I have written, in the past, about my graduate school professor who wisely told me to begin all interactions by finding something to agree on with the person I was encountering. How might our interchanges with others be transformed if we began each one by agreeing about each of our basic need to be fully ourselves? If I said to you, “I come to this encounter feeling called to bring all of who I am and I am guessing that you feel called to do the same. We may feel called to different ideologies and conflicting opinions or beliefs but I will do all I can to respect your need to be true to you and hope that you will do the same for me.” This shifts encounters radically from being focused on bringing you over to my side toward being about me doing my best to hear what matters to you and treating you with respect. Hearing you shouldn’t threaten me. In fact, hearing you might just be my best way of seeing you. Seeing you is respecting you. From there it’s hard for me not to just love you (and I really really love those folks at Moyallon and so many people in so many other places).

5    Play along (especially when doing so is a stretch).  Getting out of my comfort zone is growth inducing. No. Matter. What. To become be a part of a community, I will be asked, at times, to do things that I would prefer not to do. For me that often involves playing games. Doing so, however, allows me to connect with the feelings associated with risk taking and makes me more empathic to how it feels for others when I ask them to take risks to connect in ways meaningful to me. If I don’t participate in team building games because I am uncomfortable, I have less “right” to ask others to participate in ways I find meaningful. So, at Moyallon, I played ping pong, ran through the camp during wide games, and donned a frozen t-shirt for a game of football (yes, soccer to you Americans). Taking this lesson even further, the camp auntie, Pleasaunce fished for grapes in a bowl of flour with her teeth, made her way back and forth on a slip and slide covered in soap, made an amazing save in the football game, and more. Her willingness to enter in with her community was nothing short of gorgeous.

At Moyallon I spoke about how blacksmiths learn to monitor the fire required to re-shape metal. Using a color scale that ranges from Red to Orange to Yellow to White, they know that the Orange/Yellow heat is optimal for making metal malleable. Red heat isn’t hot enough and White heat melts the metal entirely. If we only expose ourselves to experiences that are comfortable to and for us we miss opportunities to be shaped in important ways. Especially when wanting to be a healthier person who can exist flexibly in vibrant communities, we must be willing to get wet, dirty, and uncomfortable literally and figuratively. We must expose ourselves to experiences that offer Orange/Yellow heat.

(An accompanying truth for me, that is related to this point, is that hierarchy has a price. Being doreen instead of Dr. Dodgen-Magee is an intentional choice for me in my life. If you are a person who clings to knowing your place and staying in it, I encourage you to wonder about that a bit and to experiment in healthy ways with allowing others to move from their prescribed places as you do the same. I have never had this fail to teach me.)

6    Cultural/Personal Bias is real. It is easy to unconsciously assume that those who share a skin color, language, and faith community share my worldview, values, and beliefs. This is a dangerous and limiting assumption. I learned this lesson time and time again while at Moyallon. In encountering these precious souls who looked so much like me it was easy to assume that their lives were much like mine had been half a world away. What I kept being reminded of, however, in ways large and small, was that I limit other’s ability to be truly known and encountered when I assume that their experience in the world is the same as mine. When I approach others hoping to know them authentically, allowing for space and committing myself to listening well, however, I get to find out how truly unique every person’s experience really is. I usually also learn how much I don’t know, how much my bias impacts my experience in the world, and how self centered I am in both conscious and unconscious ways. To be honest, this is not always comfortable. It stretches me to be a witness to another’s truth. It requires open handed hospitality and open hearted graciousness, invites differences of opinion, and demands respect amidst those differences. It will also change the world.

7    Bullying is real and leaves lasting wounds. People who are mistreated suffer not only from the actions of others but also from the sense of shame that accompanies interpersonal mistreatment. Neither the inflicted wounds nor the internalized response of shame just disappear. They need tending to. Often, as we grow into adulthood, we lose track of how much bullying the children, adolescents, and young adults among us are experiencing. Untreated demeaning, de-humanizing, or directly abusive experiences live in most of us and cause us to be fearful, defensive, or reactive in triggering situations. In my time at Moyallon I was struck time and again by hearing of terrible treatment toward people who I saw as intensely smart, beautiful, unique, and valuable. Stories of relational aggression of all kinds came from the mouths of the most unlikely individuals and my heart ached for how alone bullying can cause a person to feel. If each of us were to ask a few of the people in our lives about the mistreatment that they have faced, simply bearing witness to their pain and being with them in it, perhaps healing could begin. Conversely, finding safe people with whom to share our own stories of mistreatment can help us begin to overcome the unconscious hold they may have over us and invite recovery.

8    It’s important to remember, every now and again, that I am not central to the functioning of the world. A sad and untimely loss the week before I was scheduled to leave, a shocking death that occurred while I was in transit to Ireland, as well as excruciatingly complex realities being dealt to several friends and clients made me wonder if I should back out of this speaking commitment and stay home to serve my community. In discerning that I was to go and be present to this new community I learned some very valuable lessons. First, others, who may not have had the opportunity to step up at home had I been there, got to do so and thrived. They got to have new and powerful experiences and forge connections previously un-deepened. Second (and likely more importantly) I got to learn that, while important, I am not the only person who can help others. This keeps me humble and open and that benefits everyone. Third, I faced the truth that I need to back away sometimes in order to re-calibrate and practice what I preach about self care. Whenever we hear ourselves saying “I can’t take a break. It’s impossible. I’m mandatory to the functioning of the world.” we likely need that break and the world likely needs us to take it. 

In Closing: We all have much to learn and contribute. We also live in a time when we are flooded with opportunities for serving and giving. Sometimes we allow this to stop us, waiting for the “just right” opportunity to present itself. I feel called, more than ever, to challenge us to look less for the perfect opportunity and more for the simple and grand experiences before us that will allow us to affirm others and to be affirmed. Your simple, authentic, unique presence, when offered graciously, healthily, and in accordance with your gifts and talents, is rich with potential. May you find those places to invest and in so doing be rewarded with learning that is rich and deeper than you ever imagined. And for those of you at Twin Rocks (who are too many to name) and Moyallon*, whom have taught me so well, thank you f(F)riends.

* So much love and LOVE and more goes to Heather, Oliver, Michael, Harry, Peter, Daniel, Anna, Liam, Nadia, Karl, Finn, Alex, Sarah, Heather, Myron, Hannah, Victoria, Claire, Sarah, Jonny, Stephen, Mark, Judith, Kathi, Lydia, Hanna, Pleasaunce, Carolyn, Christine, Janet, Aoife, Orla, Leanne, and George for welcoming me into their hearts and community. More than I can say….