Lest We Forget

“Seeking to forget makes exile all the longer; the secret of redemption lies in remembrance.” ~Richard von Weizscker

It is Remembrance Day.  In some places in our country, it is a holiday.  Not where I live.  It used to be.  And somewhere along the line, it got changed.  To me, that is a shame.  Not because I think we need another holiday, or another day off, but because I think it is important — perhaps more important than ever before — to remember our veterans, the price that they paid in order to make the world a safer place for all.

I know that some would argue that having a day off does not guarantee that people will honour it as intended.  And those some are right; I can’t guarantee that anyone would do anything differently.  That being said, what I know for sure is that the children of today are finding it harder and harder to understand the sacrifice that was made.  It’s challenging for them to realize the blessing of freedom that they and so many others take forgranted in this country of Canada.  There are still parades and ceremonies that abound — and yet, because it’s not a holiday, fewer and fewer people create the opportunity to find a way to attend and remember.  A major “structure” has been taken away.

Yes, some people — probably most people — do what they can, taking a two moments at least to be silent, give thanks, and remember.  And that’s good.  And it’s important.  For if we ever stop taking the time, if we allow ourselves to forget, we risk losing the understanding of the price that was paid, and we set ourselves up to pay that price again — only with a whole lot of interest.

We must remember.  If you haven’t yet taken the time, it’s not too late.  Take a moment or two; remember and give thanks.  As Terry Kelley sings,  “It’s a Pittance of Time.”

Embracing the Space

So, I started my workday today as I often do — by logging on to my computer, connecting in to my social media sites, checking email and scanning my daytimer to see “what’s on the agenda.”  Each of these activities allows me to “get connected” and prepare for what’s ahead.

Today, I had a very interesting thing happen.  When I opened my email program, I was greeted by several messages from individuals who were needing to reschedule appointments, which is not a problem at all.  I’m nothing if not flexible.  As I responded to each request in turn, however, and then stopped to check my now altered agenda, I noticed that with the exception of one appointment, my entire calendar had been cleared for today.  That’s right, every single appointment had been rescheduled to later in the week.  Which means that I’ve been presented with a very spacious day.

As I sat with this noticing for a bit, I was surprised by the different internal reactions I experienced.  On one hand, there was a bit (albeit a small bit) of frustration over having to rejig things.  Not major; and it was there.  Along with this, almost in opposition to this, there was a feeling of “freedom” — that’s the best word I can think of — a sense of having the option to use my time as I wanted, rather than having it be punctuated by appointments.  This gave rise to a sense of gratitude — after all, it’s like being given the gift of time in abundance, time to address those tasks that often fall to the bottom of the to-do list.

Then there was this really weird feeling, perhaps the feeling that surprised me most of all. For this, I can find no single-word description.  Instead, I’ll have to resort to a combination of words — it was a mix of curiousity and angst.  It’s like I was excited about what would unfold on this day that was suddenly wide-open, and nervous about it all at the same time.  I mean, why the heck is the universe clearing my calendar for me?  What’s up?

As I sit here post-lunch, here’s what I know for sure.  In the midst of all of these feelings, there’s a paradoxical desire to simultaneously “use my time wisely” — dive into busy-work and get things done as it were — and to give myself over to the time that’s presented itself.  This morning, I’ve done a bit of both.  I’ve absolutely tackled some “mundane” tasks — the filing, the research, the organizing — things that would ordinarily be overlooked in service of more important things.  But I’ve also allowed myself to just sit, breathe and listen.  I still don’t know exactly why the space opened up for me.  And I don’t think I need to know, at least not yet.  Sitting, breathing and listening is allowing my head to clear, my thoughts to crystalize, ideas to form.   And so I’ve let go of needing to know, and simply embraced the spaciousness, letting my mind wander, doing what I feel called to do, and trusting that it’s all good.

Bottom-line learning:  when the universe hands you a gift, in this case the gift of time, go ahead and be aware of your reaction.  And, don’t let your noticings rob you of embracing and enjoying the gift.  All will become clear when it’s meant to.

Your Mission, If You Choose to Accept It…

…is to be in silence for at least an hour.  Seriously.  While this may seem like a fairly simple task, let me assure you that the world in which we live makes this task anything but simple.  You see, we live in a world of distractions — or at least, a world of so many things to attract our focus, that silence inevitably loses out.  And this is a shame because so many of the answers we seek can be found in that very silence.

A couple of years ago, when I participated in a leadership training program, I was required to engage in 24 hours of silence.  At first, my reaction was “yippee — time to catch up on my reading and journal writing.” Then we were told that the silence was actually all-encompassing — no reading, no writing, no talking.  We could communicate with others — but not verbally.  The challenge was to truly BE with ourselves and the silence.  We were not allowed to distract ourselves with other activities (except those that were facilitated as part of our learning).

What I learned that day was incredible.  At first, there was learning how to be with others — in silence.  To feel their emotion, to hear their thoughts (even when they were saying nothing), to notice their way of being.  Then, there was learning to be with me — with all of me, nothing to take away from whatever was true for me in the moment.  And then, there was learning to be with the answers to my questions — because they were all there.  Going to the quiet place served to remind me that anything I wanted, anything that had me puzzled, whatever I was questioning — the answers really do lie within.

I share this with you today, because I’m aware of an uncertainty in my world, as well as in the world at large.  I woke up this morning wondering, and then remembering that it didn’t have to be complicated — that I could find what I sought within me.  What I know for sure is that this same learning holds true for you.  You need only go within, get comfortable with silence, give yourself time and space to get really quiet — and you will find what you’re looking for.  Everything will become clear.  And you’ll be able to move forward with certainty.  Which is a great feeling.

It All Serves

There are some experiences I would rather do without.  Seriously.  Need examples?  Well, I’m not a big fan of feeling “under the gun”, no matter what the cause; I could do without pain in my world; and really, sleepless nights can go the way of the dodo bird in my opinion – I’d rather have some good, solid sleep each and every night, thank you very much.  And yet, even as I hold these thoughts in this moment, I am fully aware that I am speaking somewhat tongue-in-cheek; after all, I do know that it all serves.  Even the stuff I’d rather not have.

I’m certain that if you look back in your life at seemingly painful experiences — or even the not-necessarily-painful-but-still-uncomfortable ones — you’ll fully acknowledge some learning, some insight, some gift that came out of it, even though you couldn’t see it at the time.  I feel compelled to draw a childbirth comparision.  Any woman who’s given birth knows that there are times during that 10 month gestation and seemingly endless labouring process where you just want it to be over already, and you wonder what on earth could make this “worthwhile.”  And then, when it’s all said and done, it happens: you realize that you’ve been given a gift.  And while you don’t necessarily forget the pain and agony that preceded the receipt of that gift, the nature of the gift itself far outweighs the pain and suffering — and you realize that the actual experience served a purpose (although you might not choose to undergo it again).

The nice thing about childbirth (and similar experiences) is that you do have an inkling of what the outcome will be — so you can “keep your eye on the prize” so-to-speak.  But what about when you’re in the throes of some painful experience and you have no idea of the potential outcome?  Or, what if you’re brain starts inventing all sorts of potential outcomes, none of which seem all that “pain-worthy?”  What then?  Well, here’s what I know for sure.

Your brain loves to play the “what-if yuck” game — that game where every scenario can  only end in yuck.  I don’t know why the brain does this, it just does.  And you can entertain it, or you can just be aware of the yuck and be aware that it’s as made-up as a pot-of-gold.  Either could happen, and, believe it or not, either will serve.  What won’t serve is you getting caught up in trying to figure it all out.  The true gift in the human experience is allowing yourself to experience it, knowing that it all will pass.  And in those moments when you can’t use the goal to support you in moving through the pain, you can use your knowledge that there will be some gift when all is said and done.  It may take time before you see it or realize it — and it’s there nonetheless.

Bottom-line:  embrace the idea that “it all serves.”.  Use this as your mantra, and you can get through most anything.  “It all serves”, whether you can see it or not.  This much I know for sure.