living december with intention

every once in a while i have an idea that works. for me at least. and sometimes for others. recently, i had one about how to order my december. i was preparing an informal talk for a group of women i meet with quarterly and wanted to create a way to think about moving through what is typically a stress and pressure filled month with greater intention and care. a vision came to me of the many pushes and pulls on all of us during this month of preparing, finishing up the year, celebrating, and everything else. i imagined a compass being pulled off true north by magnets stacked high atop each other. while our december true north might actually be simply spending quality time with people we love, cultural, internal, and external “magnets” stack near us and pull us off course. without even thinking about it, we trade the quality time with others (that we claim is most important) for frantic shopping, efforts at creative wrapping, and preparing fancy offerings for potlucks. we forego reading to the kids (or ourselves) in order to get to yet one more cookie exchange. we “have to” make the one old family recipe even though it’s now easily purchasable and no one likes it that much anyway. the cards “must” go out and the lights “need” to go up. 

my question is this: says who?

we are so easily swayed by what we “should” do, what we have done, and what we imagine others “need” us to do. for instance, culture tells me i should love to bake in december and that my home isn’t ready for holiday visitors until cookies and bars fill every container available. frankly, i’m not a sweets person and baking, regardless of the time of year, stresses me out. does this really mean i shouldn’t entertain for the next 3 weeks or, if i do, i should welcome my guests with treats that i resent having “had” to make?

and, so, i offer to you the way i found my true north for this december. it doesn’t take long and requires only paper, a pen, and a sticky note. i encourage you to try it out. there are three weeks of this lovely month left and by determining your true north you will have clarity about where to best spend your time and energy. perhaps you’ll even be able to let the things that don’t make the cut stay undone this year as an experiment in intentional sanity and peace making. for me, making sanity and peace is far more compelling than making cookies.

the exercise:

1 on the left side of the top of your paper write down all the things/happenings/items/events that made december a unique month as you were growing up. this should include positive things and negative things. good and bad. light and dark. think about things like: “my mom spending days in the kitchen and being in a terrible mood.” “us having to keep the house in order in case visitors stopped by.” “twinkly lights and candles.” “hot chocolate.” “christmas music.” “latkes/certain foods.” “feeling disappointed/lonely.” “giving gifts.” “being with family.” “playing in the snow.” “church/synagogue.” really let your mind go back and try to recall what contributed to december being a month unto itself.

2 now go back and write any and all emotions associated with each of these memories. consider feelings like joy, anticipation, sadness, stress, anxiety, pressure, belonging, fear, happiness, exhaustion, etc.

3 on the left side of the bottom of the page list the things/happenings/items/events that have made december what it is for the past several years. again...think broadly and widely. what makes this month what it is?

4 go back to this new list and write the feelings that correspond with each item.

5 look over the list, contemplating all the wonderful, difficult, unresolved, unconsciously driven things/happenings/items/events that make up december. begin considering which are the most important items on this full list. 

6 now begin to discern which five of these items you would keep if you were only able to keep five. ask yourself questions like, “is the feeling that corresponds with this action worth my keeping it?” “do i do this because of assumptions i make about others or about my past?” “is this really important to me or do i do it automatically without much investment or reward and then feel resentful/tired/frustrated after doing it?” cross off all but five of the items.

7 circle the remaining items with intention.

8 transfer the list of five onto the sitcky note and consider it your new compass. use this list to discern what is truly important for you in the coming days. weigh options against this list. carry it with you. leave it out. spill mulled wine on it and use it as a spatula rest. let it mark your book or stick it to your dashboard. let your choices (rather than internal or external random pressures) guide you.

9 ask those who you share time and space with to do the same and see where your compass’ align and differ. consider how you might be able to help others have the experiences they’d like without it pulling you too far off center and ask them for similar support and help.

a few final thoughts:  there are no “right” lists. there are only honest lists. when i did this experiment i found that, for me, giving gifts was a huge part of my excitement in this season. i found that i was willing to take some things that i had previously thought very important off my list in order to keep gift giving. many in the group i shared this experiment with sat in direct opposition to that, saying that gift giving was one of the first things they let go. one person found that she couldn't let "sending holiday cards" go and yet the only feelings associated with getting them in the mail were "overwhelm" and "complete stress." her mind was open to giving this up to make space for something associated with more positive feelings when she realized she could send cards to friends at less full times of the year. when my daughter did the experiment, wearing wool socks and sitting and reading our many children’s christmas books by the fire was on her list. she was surprised that the children's books were on my final list as well. we decided that this was much more important to us than having every decoration we own out and that we’d also be more relaxed about sitting and reading if we knew there was less to pack back away in january. so, for the first time ever, i pared way back in the number of christmas boxes i unpacked but every single kids christmas book we have is piled next to the fire place.

i encourage you to slow down. to breathe deeply. to remember there’s always next year (and 11 other months between now and then). that cards can be sent any time of year. that peanut butter and jelly is a fine contribution to a potluck. i encourage you to listen to your body/mind/heart and to move forth in what remains of this month with freedom and love and grace...heading to a true north that you choose rather than by one that chooses you.

hands free friday (what in the world it is and how to participate)

i’ve always wanted to start a movement. or at least start a motion that starts a movement. not because i want to be behind something but because i think that movement making is important. staying still for too long leads to atrophy and a host of other unintended consequences. constant movement has opposing (and strikingly similar) extreme results. movements as social constructs, however, cause us to become aware of stuck spaces, groupthink, and habits. when someone who is part of a group that is sharing space moves, the shape of the people around her must adjust. when several people shift, more of the group must accommodate the change. the best communities encourage their members to move about and to be shaped by the healthy movement of others.

herein lies the hope behind hands free friday. 

the goal is to start a movement toward awareness of how often our hands are tied up with phones, ipads, computers, video game controllers, and any other number of devices.

to participate YOU DO NOT NEED TO GO ALL DAY FRIDAY TECH FREE. the goal is to choose a simple act that you might do each friday that requires you to put your phone down for a while. i began with cartwheels and started searching for increasingly silly places to do them each week. i had others chronicle them with photographs on their phones. then i branched out into turning my phone off for 10 to 15 minutes every friday. literally powering it off. it was amazing how bizarre that action felt even to me. from there i began to leave my phone at home or in the car for certain friday outings. i paid better attention at museums when i wasn’t trying to take notes on my phone about the artists. i listened to nature differently when i didn’t have earbuds in. i saw the city (or the country, or my friends, or...) when i wasn’t busy instagramming my every experience. there were no dire consequences when texts went unanswered for a period of time.

hands free friday is not about deprivation as much as it is about experimentation. it’s not about cutting out technology cold turkey as much as it is about becoming aware of just how much an extension of yourself your device has become. it’s about embracing a new moderateness that frees you to experience an embodied life. it’s about doing this in a way that is public, for others to see, so that you can invite them to “move” along with you. 

join me, won’t you? whether for 10 minutes or 2 hours, putting your phone/ipad/video game controller down to feel something else, to do a puzzle, to write a poem/song/letter, to make something, to free your hands up...for friday, for yourself, for your community, and beyond.

relational thanks giving: why i wai

there are certain experiences in life that reveal habits i’ve lost complete awareness of. visiting new places is one of these. people who know me in my day to day life don’t bat an eyelash when i call them “honey,” blow them kisses, or arrive to their late evening meetings with a gigantic cup of caffeinated coffee. new friends and associates who i meet en mass when i travel, however, are stumped by many things i do. i prefer “doreen” to “dr. dodgen-magee,” i don’t require fancy (or even good) coffee, and, apparently, i bow. most days i’m not even aware of this but two wonderful trips to the midwest have recently reminded me that this is not “normal.” this has led me to a ridiculous awareness of my palm to palm, hands to forehead, eyes lowered habit and has prompted me to remember my gratitude to the people and experiences who brought me this gift. particularly fitting for the week of gratitude we are in, here is at least a part of the story of why i bow. of why i wai.

several years back i was honored to visit thailand with a group of high schoolers. we lived in a “dormitory” alongside thai middle and high school students who are working to overcome the effects of poverty and familial debt by being given heaping doses of love alongside a formal education. in preparation for our trip we learned that the thai people greet and goodbye with a “bow” of sorts that is called a “wai” (rhymes with “hi”). hands joined palm to palm, in a sort of prayer pose, the head is bowed and the hands lifted toward the forehead.

when we arrived in the rural village in which we served, the wai was the primary way that others welcomed us; a seeming offering of theirs which implied, “i see you,” “i honor you,” “with my full attention.” in some settings thai nationals would wai in such a way that they would lower themselves extremely, to make their own heads closer to the ground than my own. the honor that this implied was uncomfortable for me. i do not want to be “higher” than those i meet. i learned, however, that rather than fighting this act of welcoming reverence, i could receive it and then gift it back. i could catch their eyes when they looked up from the wai and then hold them for a moment as i bowed deeply in response. it became a way of saying “this meeting is sacred. i feel seen and i see you. we are joined in our humanity. thank you.” as i spent the better part of a month cooking, cleaning, learning, and living with these beautiful people, i came to highly value the act of honoring others with my posture. given our lack of understanding of each others’ languages, the wai became a way of demonstrating an awareness of the sacredness of each other. quite unconsciously, i brought it home with me.

years ago my graduate training gave birth to an understanding of, and respect for, the need of humans to feel tended to. both life in general and the meaningful work of doing therapy have grown this knowledge into an appreciation and respect for each person’s desire to be seen deeply and honestly and to be held safely in the attention of another. i am a huge believer in the power of the “parental gaze” to mold and influence the developing sense of self in infants and young children. before any of us know how to care for ourselves, we look to the important others in our visual spheres to see us and “loan” us the things we need. before we can change our own diapers or manage our own bathrooming behaviors, our care takers help us know that, when we are wet and uncomfortable it is possible to return to a dry and comfortable state. when we are distressed we can be comforted. when we are hungry we are fed. and so on. when those entrusted with our care gaze lovingly and attentively at us and work to help us get our needs met, we eventually learn to apply a similarly loving gaze toward our selves and take on the caregiving of ourselves that has been modeled by these others. when this does not happen, however, when our care givers are inconsistent, incapable of interpreting what they see, or neglectful of gazing at us altogether, we grow up physically but remain stuck emotionally, looking to others to determine how to care for ourselves and get our needs met. for those who face this reality, it is hoped that wise, mature, and safe others will serve as pseudo “stand ins” of sorts throughout the years, seeing and gazing in ways that help the neglected get what they have lacked.

last week i participated in a church service where the reverend told a story of a man she had met years before. this congregant was an attorney and shared with the reverend that some days the only physical contact he received was a handshake in the courtroom. how many times is this true for us physically? emotionally? relationally? how often are we seen-truly noticed-in a day? how frequently are we held in someone’s attention (or touch), or respect, or love? equally importantly, how common is it for us to offer someone else the opportunity to be seen and/or held? in stark contrast to the attorney who lacks physical touch, consider the manicurist or massage therapist who touches and pampers people all day but is rarely, if ever, truly seen for who he or she is. rarely touched by the kindness of someone’s words or eye contact or caring questions.

it is for these reasons that i wai. in placing my hands together and bowing slightly i hope to convey to you that i find you an image bearer of the Divine, a person of importance and unique beauty. even if i have shared only a moment with you, i see you as a vital part of the space that we inhabit. together. i’m not more important than you and i have much to be humble about and gracious in my interaction with you. these are the messages i hope you receive, even when you laugh at me or look at me sideways, wondering why in the world i engage in this “weird behavior.”

the next six weeks will be heavy with desires to be seen and known and opportunities to give these gifts to others. while the decorations and sparkling lights scream “cheer,” many of us are just trying to get through the holiday crush. some rush through to-do lists, others put in long grueling hours at jobs where they’re treated terribly, many feel alone and marginalized, scores long for lost loved ones, and we all hope we are just remembered. given the mix of emotions you are likely to face in those you encounter today, how might you be open to genuinely see or welcome those you meet? might you mean it when you ask “how are you?”  could you leave a trail small candies or notes that say “you matter” as you make it through your day? might you remember to simply look people in the eye and thank them specifically for the services they provide you? what if you were to compliment each person you met on some small trait or gesture? what would it be like if you were to take a deep, cleansing breath before you encountered the grocery checker, the employee working the mail counter, your partner, your children/parents, your teacher/boss/co-worker in order to prepare yourself to actually notice to whom you speak/with whom you interact.

the only touch that someone gets should not be a handshake in the courtroom. you have it within your power to provide touch that may never translate to physicality but that can reach the very soul of another. you can honor...you can wai...you can say, with words or deeds, “you matter” “you’re important” “we are travelers together on this journey.” people may look at you funny. they may even laugh. down deep, however, you will know that it matters and you will know why...

all i want for christmas is a playstation 4

it’s that time of year. advertising is heavy with black friday offers, sparkling lights are showing up everywhere, and santa visits are being planned. folks have begun perfecting their latke recipes and spicy winter drinks are featured on menu boards at every corner. given this deluge of anticipatory holiday behavior, it’s not surprising that video game console makers are rolling out their new models. the consumer electronics association released their 20th annual ce purchase patterns study last week, suggesting that 74% of holiday gift buyers will procure consumer electronics for gifting. between gaming consoles, ipads, smart phones, and toys with electronic features, it’s beginning to look a lot like a plugged in, charged up holiday season.

last week, sony released the play station 4 and this week microsoft will release xbox one. the features in these consoles and the games they accommodate represent advances both terrific and terrifying. the units are smaller, lighter, and more powerful than ever, will set you back $400 and $500 respectively, and are highly versatile in their entertainment offerings. according to larry frum of cnn, the computing advances in these models offer game developers the ability to give a “film-like quality to the action in...games, creating a deeper feeling of immersion in the narrative.” of the play station 4, alex roth of techradar.com says, “housing some of the most powerful hardware ever to sit before a television, sony's new console is two sleek slabs of industrial design fused together for one purpose: living room dominance.” perfect.

just what we need. living rooms dominated by even more compelling technological offerings presenting characters and experiences that look and feel as real as those we encounter in our embodied lives. 

these reporters’ comments cause me to pause. they lead me to me wonder what narrative people might choose to offer up in their living rooms if they were to make such choices intentional. would we choose to have our living spaces dominated by the sound of war, the look of facebook, or the sites and soundtrack of grand theft auto?

a few years back my kids and i were waiting in a check out line when a high school student excitedly presented his mother with the newly released video game that was certain to be the “highlight of christmas.” because of what i do, i knew that this game was particularly gory and graphic in content. “this will be awesome mom!” the boy exclaimed. “we’ll be able to play this all day on christmas! it can be our goal to beat it before new years.” “awesome,” replied the mom. “it’ll be perfect since it’s supposed to rain.” all i could think about that day was a house, decorated for the holiday, warm and full of family, with the sound of guns and heart pumping music pouring into the earbuds of the kids playing this game for the week. as far as holiday soundtracks go, this is not one i would choose to have associated with my living room.

when i was growing up, many of my friends’ living rooms were places that were either avoided or disallowed. the “good furniture” lived there as did the pristine carpet and “precious moments” figurines in large glass-fronted curio cabinets. the living room was where grown ups hung out. where things felt formal and, well, grown up. i’m glad that things have changed. i think it’s wonderful that living rooms and family rooms have morphed into one. that living rooms are lived in. i’m also aware, however, that more and more of our living spaces have become dominated by visual and auditory noise. if televisions aren’t located in such spaces, laptops, ipads, and smart phones certainly are. tivo makes it possible to watch anything at any time and gaming systems bring unlimited entertainment options to life here-to-for only dreamed of. i wonder, in these spaces are we intentional about the options we offer for attentional domination or are we instead creating spaces where we gather but have our own individual experiences with our chosen device(s), typically focused on the screens (on our laps or on the wall) rather than on each other? we’re all allowed in the living room but we’re all having our own experiences there.

there’s nothing inherently evil about a technological gift. gaming systems offer family fun options. ipads and smart phones are here to stay and we need to know how to interact with them. if we, as a country and/or as a people, were gifted with self discipline...if we were moderate by nature...if we were capable of balancing our lives with things we want to do and things we know will grow us and mature us, there would be no blog post for me to write here. we’d play the entertaining game. we’d immerse ourselves for a time. and then we’d move on. we’d see who could get the high score and rib each other about it and then go out to throw the ball around. it wouldn’t matter if it was raining, mud would add to the fun. we’d move to the kitchen where we’d taste some foods with our full attention. we’d sit by the fire and stare into space, letting our minds wander about 

as we look toward the gatherings that will occur in these coming weeks may we all become bold about the way we encounter each other. may our spaces be dominated by a diversity of offerings...screens at times, board games at others, quiet moments, and times of so much laughing that our stomaches hurt. may we encourage ourselves and each other to lay the devices down, to turn the screens off, and to risk the unknown of encounter and be dominated by it.

what is most important

i am sometimes asked how to make a distinction between that which is important and that which is most important. it seems as though this question is being asked with greater frequency and urgency as we are confronted with the ever expanding ability to be “always” present to the never ending stream of tasks/information/forms of communication/people/possibilities that our worlds now offer us. when we can accomplish three things at once, why wouldn’t we? if we don’t HAVE to make a choice, why should we? by multi tasking and foregoing the need for making conscious decisions we live as though all things are the most important thing. i wonder if this isn’t muddling our brains and cheapening our experiences. sometimes one thing really is more important than another and, when we are forced to admit this and live accordingly, i believe we are grown, stretched, matured, formed. recently, this truth was driven home for me in a surprising way.

twenty two years ago i received the gift of being present with my dear friends paul and judy as the first of their oh-so-amazing children was born. daniel arrived, wrinkled and pink, and was lodged immediately into my heart in a way i can’t describe. separated by geography and full lives my connection with daniel was limited to occasional trips to visit his family and pictures at christmas and valentines day. when word arrived that he had proposed to his precious friend i couldn’t help but gush at them both on facebook, offering to do anything from cleaning bathrooms to assembling decorations to make their wedding easy and wonderful. amazingly, they accepted my offer and emails, photos, texts, and facebook messages began flying. by the time i arrived in illinois to pack up the u-haul of funky furniture, lawn games, photo booth supplies, and more we were planning on using to transform a michigan barn into an outdoor wedding wonderland i felt intimately connected to these two beautiful souls.

anyone who has hosted, been to, or even simply heard about a wedding in the last 10 years knows that they are rarely “let’s have cake and punch in the church basement” affairs any more. there are craft stores on every corner (of the city and the internet). endless internet searches yield eternal options for all things wedding. pinterest has amped up the options for do it yourself amazingness and along with that has come the reality that every wedding decoration, outfit, and/or ceremony tweak could turn you into an instant celebrity. it’s easy to fall into the trap of considering how the event will look via it’s tweets, hashtagged instagram photos, and facebook posts rather than planning a ceremony that has meaning, intention, and relational depth as the most important part of the planning.

daniel and erin had done a fantastic job of focusing on both the intimate reality of what the day would be accomplishing (marking their forever commitment to each other) and the fact that those closest to them were going to be gathered together and should get to play. donuts and cider after the outdoor ceremony, lawn games with areas to lounge and visit, an interactive collaging guestbook, s’mores at the fire pit. they wanted their friends to get to encounter each other. there were also plenty of personal d-i-y touches: braided yarn to drape on the trees near where the ceremony would be held, jam for each guest to take home, little rag “waving pennants” to shake when they kissed. daniel is a noted wedding photographer and he and erin have been to plenty of picture perfect weddings. they had attended to the details.

the day before the wedding the michigan fall provided a lovely setting for an outdoor rehearsal where sundresses and smiles were aplenty. as the day closed, however, the weather appeared to change. as night turned to morning many of us became glued to whichever weather source displayed the fewest rain drops during the hours leading up to and including the ceremony. when we arrived at the barn, it was misting heavily. soon, mist became rain and we could no longer find forecasts that pleased us. while event space coordinators and family members and friends all speculated and postulated about how the day might go, daniel and erin stayed cool and calm. 

one by one things needed to be moved inside. the cool welcome windows they’d painted. the ladders filled with funny photos, embroidery hoops, and tule. the lawn games were put back in the u-haul and the wedding photographer moved the action inside. as the time for the ceremony inched closer daniel and erin needed to make a decision. every one assumed that they would simply move the ceremony inside, to the barn, saying their vows either between the banquet tables where dinner would later be served or on the dance floor. it was raining steadily by then, the attendants had no coats or umbrellas, the musicians had instruments that shouldn’t get wet, the ground was muddy with no cemented aisle, erin had, of course, had her hair done. what bride doesn’t care about her hair? especially in the age of instagram, facebook, and pinterest.

at decision time (one hour before the wedding was to start) all but the actual ceremony items had been moved inside. the last decision needed to be made. the clouds were not lifting. where would they say “i do?” i pulled daniel and erin aside and asked them where they wanted to get married. without even missing a beat, and looking up to a face full of rain, erin said, “i want to get married outside.”  when i went to tell the others there were looks of surprise and wonder yet no one argued. sure, the decorations were important, people’s fancy wedding outfits were important (especially the women’s shoes which would sink deeply into the mud being created by the rain), the train of erin’s elegant gown was important, people’s warmth and comfort were important, but none of these things were the most important.

as people arrived at the barn, shaking off the rain they’d collected as they ran from their cars, they looked at me oddly when i told them not to get too comfortable. it was obvious that not everyone was instantly excited about heading back out into it. once we were all gathered i simply asked everyone to look around, to see what a beautifully assembled group we made. i shared that erin and daniel’s wish was to be married outside and reminded them that, as the most important people in their lives, we had the power to make that wish come true and that that was most important. far more important than looking dashing in the photos later.

let me tell you, not a single one of their devoted friends or family looked disappointed. we all cuddled up, headed out, and witnessed two young sages who cared not about what had been simply important all the days leading up to this one (the garlands, the fire wood and s’mores that were now packed away, the hair styles that had been meticulously created hours before) but, rather, about what was most important...saying what they needed to say and hearing what they needed to hear to and from each other in the setting that felt most true to who they were. as they emerged from their “i do’s” with muddy hems, soggy shoes, and raindrop/tear stained faces i don’t think a single one of us present was thinking about how we looked.

now that the photos are up on facebook it’s easy to forget how clear the most important thing was in that moment. it’s easy to look at my wet hair and running mascara and say “i look terrible” rather than to recognize i was so deeply present when that photo was taken that how i look did not and does not matter and to remember that i got to be a part of a sacred moment that, unlike a photograph, can never be taken away.  i’m so grateful that this is true and grateful that a record exists so that i can remember that giving up the important for the most important has rewards that no facebook album, instagram shot, or tweet can ever embody.

daniel and erin...you showed deep love and grace and maturity on that rainy day and you gifted everyone present with an experience where what mattered most was us and you and each other. where we were able to move past ourselves to create a shared space around what was truly most important...a community brought together. and boy was it fun...

the happy (soggy) couple...courtesy of deidre lynn photography