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….

facing fears

My husband and I recently caught an early flight home after a long weekend away. Exhausted and hurrying to make our next commitment, we race-walked through the airport, hoping to grab our bags and get our car unhindered. As we approached the primary mode of transport to baggage claim we noticed a large knot of people stopped at the top of the escalator. I was frustrated and stressed. We had no wiggle room if we were going to arrive at our event on time. 

Stepping up to the gathered assembly we found that one of the two moving staircases was completely stopped; orange caution cones blocking its entrance. The other, while running, was empty. A good sized group stood at the bottom, laughing and waving and calling out directions in Spanish while the group up top stood completely still in a palpable and agitated silence. In the middle of this upper knot of humanity was a woman who stood, firmly planted, at the very center of the last piece of solid ground in front of the moving stairway, looking down. 

While I could only see her back, it took only two seconds for me to realize that this person was in unfamiliar territory. A thick black braid ran down her back and pointed to what appeared to be intricate South American needle work covering her dress. Her beautiful handmade sandals planted her firmly to the ground. Around her stood the aforementioned crowd of people, most of them different from her in every way. Shifting back and forth, they all looked at each other, at her, and then down to the bottom of the escalator in rotating fashion. Most of them donned puzzled looks but a few were clearly annoyed and angry. A white woman weighed down with luggage and standing near the solitary visitor spoke loudly and firmly, pointing emphatically over the woman’s shoulder. “There’s an elevator over there. Get on that if you don’t want to get on this!”

I only heard this because, for no real apparent or thought-through reason, I stepped right up to the frightened woman. It wasn’t as though I made a plan or consciously chose to help, my body simply propelled itself toward this embodied visiting soul. Without thought, I grabbed the beautiful woman’s hand while asking, “Can I help you?” Then we just stepped. The crowd below smiled and cheered, excited for her to join them. She never looked at me. Instead, she stared straight ahead with a solidly unaffected gaze. Nearing the solid ground below, she squeezed my hand. When I counted “Uno, dos, tres,” and we stepped off the escalator she said, “Gracias” in the quietest of voices. Then, we parted ways, she into the huddle of those she belonged to and me to my bags and a busy day. 

Bags retrieved, my husband and I headed back toward the escalators. From this new vantage point we saw two things: first, several EMT’s bandaging a person’s head and second, that the closed staircase was being cleaned not serviced. Very likely someone had just fallen and injured themselves on the very same mode of transport that the woman above was jeered at for fearing. Whether she witnessed this fall or not, her fear suddenly seemed more palpable and nuanced. I wondered if anyone who had been with her up-top had been willing to make space for the complexity and gift that this moment held.

Everyone, at some point or another, fears the unknown. Everyone.

Some of us live in a state of constant fear. This happens when we’ve been through trauma or crisis or when we struggle with anxiety as a constant companion. In this kind of reality, our very cells hold memories of terrifiying and, often, powerless experiences that keep us confronting our fear or running from it at all times. This is not the kind of fear I am talking about here and is complicated in ways that run deeper than the suggestions I bring forth will likely touch. If you face fear of this nature and need help finding a trustworthy guide for working through, email me. 

What my escalator moment made me aware of, however, is the other, less constant, kind of fear that touches us all: the fear of the unknown or unmastered experiences that confront us. Each of us is afraid in more every-day/moving staircase kinds of ways at some point in our lives. Sometimes catchy slogans (“just do it”) and motivational pep talks are just what we need to overcome these kinds of anxieties. More often than not, however, our fears are rooted in deep and largely unconscious spaces where they are protected and nurtured to ensure their existence. Inspirational memes do little to move us off these kinds of fears because these anxieties are complicated and complexly woven into all sorts of internal places we know little about.

The more true this is, the more likely we have unconsciously and unwittingly bought into the belief that our fears protect us and keep us safe. “I could fall off that roller coaster therefore I will never go on it.” I’ve been hurt by that type of person in the past so I must avoid all of those kinds of people in the future.” “Planes crash. I must never get on one.” “I suck at test taking so I should avoid all learning that includes tests.” “There could be something wrong with me. Avoiding the Dr. until I get a bit healthier is the best choice.” While some fears do, in fact, protect us, many times they hold us back from important learning and growth.

Complicating things, when we aren’t being sure that our fears keep us safe, we are likely spending our energy judging our anxieties. We are especially prone to judging the fears of others. “What a stupid thing to be scared of!” “What a wimp!” “Seriously?? I’m/you’re scared of (fill in the blank)! That’s ridiculous!” When not judging we may work to understand the fears. Are they defensible? Do they have merit? Who planted them within us? Sometimes, the acts of judging and understanding make us feel as though we are working to overcome our fear when they are simply ways of avoiding. We could interview the woman about her fear of escalators all day but at some point such questioning simply steals energy that could be put toward working through. Similarly, judgement and the shaming that often results from it, rarely serves as an effective foil to fear. 

We, as people, simply are who we are. Our beings are complex and messy and beautiful and unique and deserve to be honored. We have come to be who we are as a result of all sorts of experiences and all manner of genetic predispositions, influenced further by the abundance or scarcity of resources available to us. We are shaped by both our nature and the nurture provided (or not) by the communities in which we have been raised. The cultures of family, faith, education, vocation, nationality, and more have played their parts in developing both confidences and fears in each of us.  And so, our fears have roots that require attendance if we are to take steps to move through them. Which brings me to the greatest awareness that my escalator moment brought me.

Shouting down fear in our selves or those around us is one option. Rarely, however, is it the most effective. Instead, when facing our own fears, receiving help can be life changing and, when confronted with the fear of another, offering help offers a gift to both the giver and receiver. Receiving help and kindness in the tender and complex places that fear reveals helps us feel less overwhelmed by that which scares us. It teaches us that we are lovable and acceptable even when afraid which, in and of itself, boosts our confidence and calms us down. Giving kindness and connection to someone who is experiencing fear helps us become humble, empathic people. Reaching out to someone when they are afraid requires us to overcome our assumptions and judgements about both fear itself and that which is feared and causes us to be more gracious global citizens. 

Next time you find yourself at the top of your own personally terrifying moving staircase I wish for you the creativity to know where to look for help and the courage to ask for it. I hope that you will put yourself in spaces where you can reach out toward hands that reach back. Hands that will be reliable and loving, non shaming and non judging, and firm. Especially firm. And may you receive such offered help, letting it seep into every nook and cranny of the darkness that has been your fear. May the assistance of another speak to the certainty and rigid harshness of your anxiety and the aloneness that it ushers in. May you trust in discerning ways in the confidence of your helper and let it empower you. Regardless of the terror you are confronting, may you always say gracias. That simple thanks gives the gift right back to the giver in more profound ways than you realize.

Equally importantly, next time you encounter someone in the grips of their own personal moving staircase nightmare, may you be those hands. May you whisper and not shout. May you resist the impulse to avoid the possible reaction or rejection, boldly offering kindness and connection instead. May you lunge to the front of the line knowing that a gift awaits all those who partner with Love to help cast out fear. May you offer boldly. If refused, may you take joy in having offered. If accepted, may you act with grace, kindness, and love and, in this way, inspire freedom from fear in us all.

Daylight (Using Mindfully) Time

This weekend holds a special event for those of us living in the Unites States. Regardless of one’s feelings about Daylight Savings Time, beginning Sunday the light part of American’s days will be longer. Yes, we’ll “lose” an hour of sleep Sunday night but we’ll gain some daylight every evening thereafter until we fall back next Fall.  As dwellers within a culture that rewards productivity, empowers a 24 hour news cycle, and enables (via largely available internet access) vocational and recreational investment on the same 24/7 model, we live with a constant pressure to perform and conform. With an extra hour of daylight it is my guess that we’ll feel an increased pressure to pack our lives even fuller than they already are. 

Fed a never ending stream of information, we fear missing out on the one (or one hundred) piece(s) of data we think we really need to perform and achieve. Faced with a constant stream of our friend’s whereabouts, status updates, and responses to our own posts, we scroll our social networks to ensure we haven’t missed anything of import and to feel a part of something larger than ourselves. We rarely put time parameters on such activities or consciously assess how we feel after immersing ourselves in these spaces. Information simply presents itself so it is consumed, updates automatically come flooding in so we keep up with them, our work/school email is forwarded to our phone and we can respond so we do, and on and on and on.

A culture that prizes productivity, espouses multitasking as a positive trait, and encourages self promotion over self knowing awareness and communal health drives us to use the hours in our days rather than to experience them. Anymore, our best way of squeezing the most out of every minute is to harness our digital super powers to make us super performers. This means that passing a new level of Candy Crush while waiting in line feels more “productive” than simply waiting. It also means that having instant messaging, social media, and our favorite news sources up and available on our screens while we work makes us feel less anxious than we do with a single work window open. It means we binge on podcasts in formerly quiet moments and watch entire seasons of shows in one sitting because it makes us feel as though we’ve accomplished something. It means we count every step and rely upon our personal fitness trackers to tell us whether we’ve moved enough in a day. It means that our digital meditation guides and apps reward us for the minutes we spend meditating with badges, stickers, and stars. All of this filling and measuring of our time and output, this prizing of “production” over “boredom,” this indulgence in data consumption due to the fear of missing out or coming up short cannot be considered simply benign pursuits.

A primary result of this immersion in our digital spaces in order to feel and measure our productivity is a decreased engagement between our embodied selves and the fully physical world around us. Don’t get me wrong. The worlds of ideas and information can be compelling and beautiful, digital measurement and reporting can be helpful, and relational, vocational, and recreational pursuits deepened by digital contact can be intensely rewarding. There are, however, costs to investing only (or even primarily) in these spaces. These costs include a diminished comfort in one’s own skin accompanied by a lack of familiarity with the message indicators of one’s own body and mind. Decreased ability to tolerate stillness, silence, and boredom, and agitation or anxiety are also frequent costs. Finally, a diminished capacity for focus and a lack of experience with meaningful self soothing are also potential outcomes. 

Generally speaking, the more we employ technology to make us productive and to measure our accomplishments, the less experience we have with our embodied abilities to do the same. The more we rely on our fitness trackers to tell us if we’ve moved enough, the more removed we are from our own mindfulness and physical indicators of health and wellness. The more we engage our devices in times of stillness or silence, the less comfort we are likely to build with both. The more we rely on our devices for stimulation and soothing the less capable we are at providing either in and of ourselves. *

With a new and expanding length of daylight, we have the opportunity to decide how we might engage it. We can use the hour as a motivator to lengthen the productive part of our day, filling it chock a block full of getting more done, or we can re-think our ideas about productivity and our relationship with our devices and our selves. Might this extra hour of daylight provide us opportunities to day dream once in a while, to look at clouds, to practice tolerating boredom, to ask ourselves if we’ve moved or meditated or engaged other humans enough in this day and then respond appropriately? 

Any time we are presented with opportunities to consider the habits by which we live and convert them into norms with the power to lead us to be more whole, healthy, and content people, why not grab hold of them? Why not use this re-set of our clocks as an impetus to re-set our relationships with time itself and the way in which we use it? Why not leap forward into spaces of discomfort for the sake of growth and depth, spaces of newness in relation to our selves and others, and space for spaciousness itself? 

*This is not to say that we should not employ technologies that help us get started in producing outcomes we desire to achieve. Personal fitness devices can help us tailor an effective exercise regimen by giving us important data. Apps which track our food or meditation or study time can also provide effective motivation. Online communication gives us an opportunity to practice when face to face communication is a challenge. The goal is always to make sure that we have a balance of motivators and measurement tools...some online and digital and some within ourselves alone.

on returning to facebook (guest post by joseph tatum)

the following post was written by joseph tatum. joseph is a 24 year old designer (he's behind, in, and through my  new website), artist, ridiculously compelling story teller, and all around wonderful person. he is originally from the south and now hails from portland, oregon. his blog post reflects a trend i am encountering with many young adults across the country who are deleting their social media accounts, reverting to flip phones, or taking other measures to regain healthy relationships with all things digital. it is my hope that you will find his honesty encouraging to you as you consider your own relationship with the social networks of which you are a part.  you can find more of joseph at josephtatum.com and his blog at josephtatum.com/blog  (and, if you need a good designer...he's your man).

On Returning to Facebook

February 17, 2016

I deleted my 7+ year old Facebook account last November. It was terrifying. It was silly that was so terrifying. It was also not silly that it was so terrifying.

I started my Facebook Account when I was 15 or 16 years old and my profile was a documentation of a big chunk of high school, of my entire my entire college experience, and all of my adult life up until November 2015. It was difficult to remember a life where I didn’t use it everyday.

I realized I’d had an active Facebook account for 8 years, which is 1/3 of the entirety of my existence. That isn’t something one easily tosses out the window. I realized that Facebook had become this quietly monolithic thing that had infiltrated every aspect of my life. It was how I kept up with college friends, high school friends, even some friends here in Portland. These aren’t bad things, and Facebook seeping into all the corners of my life wasn’t bad; per say.

But all of those things weren’t the unhealthy part for me. Facebook is a great tool for those things. The darker side is when you kinda start to fall more and more into the dualistic lifestyle social media provides us. Since entering post-grad life and starting over, Facebook had given me an outlet to really easily live in the past. I could sit in my apartment in Portland and relive my past lives because they were all so well documented. Photographs, statuses, old messages from 2009, videos I’d made of friends in college, their profiles, and even ridiculous things I’d written as a 17 year old allowed me to take cover in a space outside the physical. Feeling scared about where I am in life? Facebook. Don’t want to deal with some project I’m working on? Facebook. Miss my college buddies and just want to transport myself back to the college days? Facebook. 

In social medias defense, this is something people have always done. Plenty of folks have photographs and videos of their childhood that they look through every now again. But “every now and again” is the key phrase in that sentence. It got to the point that I realized I had a Facebook tab open for 8+ hours per day. It was the first app I opened in the morning and the last I closed before going to bed. I was spending all my time living in the past instead of meeting new people. Not that I wasn’t meeting new people at all; but Facebook was noticeably throwing my life out of balance.

Last November I was telling my friend Darcey about all of this. I decided I wanted out. Not that “deactivate your account” bullshit; though. I wanted it gone for good. So I deleted it and didn't really think too much about it. It later hit me that I had obliterated 7 years of my online existence. I didn’t back one single thing up. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and relieving all at the same time.

4 months on from the demise of the core of my virtual reality and I feel a lot better. It helped me embrace my physical reality a hell of a lot more. I feel a lot better not having constant access to the minutia of the thoughts and feelings of the past 7 years of my life. It was a massive purge. But we live in a technology driven world. I work in technology. Things like social media are mostly unavoidable. How can we maintain a balance of the physical and the virtual? We live in a time where both of those things are just as real as the other and it’s neigh impossible to exist without a virtual presence of some kind. I want to give Facebook a space in my life. Facebook is an incredible line of communication and it gives one the power to have a reach with a lot of folks; even those they don't know. When I publicly came out, Facebook was key in getting my story into the world. I got Facebook messages from strangers that were some of the kindest I’ve ever received. There isn't another platform that would've given me the kind of reach Facebook did. I feel ready to embrace it again with a sense of cautiousness.

I encourage you to consider the same things. How does your virtual world affect the physical relationships you have and vice-versa? I’m back with a fresh account. As long as I feel healthy about it, I’ll keep it around.

If you have question. Ask away. Being healthy online is something people should talk more about.

regards,

joseph w. tatum

PS. My Oregon mom, Doreen Dodgen-Magee talks about these kinds of things all the time. I guess she's rubbing off on me. You should watch some videos of her talks. They're amazing, inspiring and incredibly informative.