The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love. Galatians 5:6

Saturday, September 29, 2018

Closing the Cottage


 
The water welcomes me
And the rock and the sky
And the stairs going up to our deck.

Welcome home, this sacred space says to me
And it’s good to be home for these few days
To end a long season of welcome
And wholeness

And healing
Needed so much the quiet medicine
This particular season
So much

Then the mornings were early-bright
And warm
And kayak therapy did magic
Sunsets too
And fast rides in the other boat
And trips into Midland
And grandkids
Hummingbirds
Chipmunks
Church on the Rock
Scrabble
Reading and reading and reading
On the deck
All of it

Now the breeze comes cooler
It’s dark in the morning and early after supper
The fireplace is our warming friend
And soup is good for lunch

But the water
And the rock
And the sky
And the quiet
Still heal
Even in a melancholy goodbye
For now

Thursday, September 20, 2018

When A Workaholic Works from Home - Five Tips for Separating Work from Everything Else


It's really only been a few weeks so far.  My work-from-home routines are barely coming into focus.  So, just to put it out there, what I'm about to say represents my first reflections on a subject I've had a particular concern about, but not a whole lot of personal experience thus far.

The concern is this:

How do workaholics work from home?

Well, no, that's not the question really.  Because workaholics work from anywhere, all the time.  Physical space is makes no difference.  The answer to that question is probably, 'They just work.'

So I guess the better question is this.

How do workaholics who work from home separate work from everything else?

As a (mostly managed) workaholic most of my life, I found having an office elsewhere helpful.  But now this is not the case.  Now my concentrated computer work, my study and teaching preparation, my planning and praying and reflection, all still very much components of my work these days, happens from my house.  Even meetings, reduced as they are now, happen at my house.  My house, my home.  The same place where I rest, sleep, watch movies, partner with my husband, take out the garbage, decorate for Christmas, entertain my grandchildren, have people over.....do life.

So how to keep things separate?  How to keep work work and life life and play play, etc. etc.

Here's what I am finding helpful so far.

1.  Have A Separate Space

This is important to me for more reasons than just keeping work and life separated.  A personally-crafted work space has always been my productivity-inclined goal as manifest in comfort, concentration, inspiration and a sense of the sacred.  So when it came time to move my office home, I was able to set aside two corners of a larger room, mark them off visually with furniture placement and wall decor, get all my binders and books where I could have easy access, and then declare 'Here is my new office.'   This may not be an option for everyone, but if you have the room, it really beats having the dining room table or other regular living space be taken over with your work.  I'm not sure about you, but what it looks like visually is how it's probably going to happen inside my brain.

2.  Get Dressed

Sounds simple, and perhaps this isn't a thing for everyone, but it helps me to get up and get dressed as if I was going to work somewhere else, like, more in public.  And it's not for the purpose of encouraging me to work. It's more for the effect of, at the end of the day, changing into 'home clothes' as a signal that the work time is done.  Don't worry.  I'm not clomping around my house in heels all day.  Like I said above, comfort is important for productivity for me.  But there's still a distinction between what I'm wearing when I'm working and what I'll put on to relax.

3.  Beginning and Ending Rituals

Similar to getting dressed, I have found the practice of start-of-day rituals and end-of-day rituals to be another good signal that work is either 'on' or 'off'.  Three rituals I have carried over from the days when my office was elsewhere.  One is to go for my swim first thing in the morning.   Beginning the day with exercise helps get the oxygen going and prepare my mind for my work.  So this I still do.  The second is the lighting of the vanilla candle.  Anyone who ever visited me in my previous office knows that there's an aromatherapy affect for me, and in particular with a vanilla candle.  And the third is a Scripture meditation/transcription thing I do every morning, just to keep my head into the original languages of the Bible and keep me learning Thai, AND because the kind of work I do is a farce without a slow, meticulous consideration of what I regard as my Source.   There's one new ritual I have incorporated into this work-from-home deal; the raising and lowering of the blinds at the far end of the room where I work, at the beginning and end of the day respectively.  Not only does this bring in a little more light, but it opens and closes the day in a visual kind of way.  Like I said.  What's happening visually is likely happening inside my brain.

4.  Make the Weekends Different

Not to say that no work can be done in convenient little moments on Saturday and Sunday.  But mostly, mostly, the weekends need to have a different feel for me, or everything bleeds into sameness.  That means, for me, not setting the alarm, not going for a swim, not getting into work clothes.  That means blocking off time for doing things around the house, (helping with that work-from-home hazard of always seeing some housework or home improvement that needs doing as you just head to the bathroom).  That means running errands and longer meal times and favourite weekend foods, or whatever it is that makes the weekend special and different for you.  I have a feeling this is going to be all the more important for me as the winter sets in and being at home - as lovely as it's turning out for me now - might wear a little thin.

5.  Blur the Lines

This is going to sound like I'm contradicting everything I've just written.  But the truth is most workaholics are also perfectionists.  And the irony here, at least I feel it in me, is that by setting up some ideas for keeping work separate, I could get all rigid and stupid about it, which would be just as unhealthy as not having any separation at all.  Because there's actually a lot of freedom and flexibility in working from home.  And one day it might be a perfect mental break to put aside other stuff and just go cut the grass.  Or one day it might be exactly what I need to not set the alarm and start the day a little slow.  Or one day it might be fine to stay in my pjs all day long (only, I hope you don't come by unexpectedly that day because I'll look so lazy and that would be awful!).

Bottom line is, for some of us, I expect most of us who love the vocation to which they are called, there's really no real way to completely separate work from life.  Because work is life and life is work and overlaps are often places of sacred discoveries and profound growth.

That's my list so far.  Anyone working from home with other ideas, I'd love to hear about them.

But I'd better sign off now, because I just blew through lunch since there was no one at my office door reminding me that it was time to eat! 



Sunday, September 9, 2018

The Disquieting Openness of Soul

"It is through gratitude for the present moment 
that the spiritual dimension of life opens up."
Eckhart Tolle



Being fully engaged in the moment.

It's a practice I've been seeking to develop for the past several years, but which seems all the more important and vivid in this particular season of my life.

Tolle's quote above adds a fresh dimension of this for me, something that makes perfect sense but I just haven't thought of it in this way before.  It's not just about being 'fully present' in each moment.  It's also about taking advantage of an essential opportunity for gratitude.

This is not as easy as it seems, I am finding.

Anyone can stop and soak gratefully in the moment when we're standing on the beach at sunset, or a humming bird hovers intimately close for several moments, or when we're holding a newborn, or reading to a grandchild, or hiking in the woods, or....any of the 'moments' we all long for in seeking some centering or serenity in our lives.   When there's something concrete to be grateful for.

But what about the other moments?

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."  Paul might even come across as being glib in his letter to the Thessalonians (1 Thess. 5:16-18).  Except we know how many moments he was "present in" that were anything but centering and serene.

I haven't got this down.

Sometimes I think I do.

When I've calmed my mind enough to sit on the dock for long periods of time without the need to rush away from the sunset.  Or to wait patiently with a peanut for the next chipmunk to trust me.  Or to simply revel in the cozy joy of a fleece blanket on a coolish night.  I can be very present and very grateful in those moments.

Or even when in my crises experiences, where I can grab hold of an unnatural sense of calm to navigate the storm.  Being fully present in the unknown, embracing the ambiguity of outcomes, choosing not to panic pre-emptively.  Staying steady, even grateful, for each moment of an upheaval.  If I can to that, I say to myself, then I must have mastered this 'present with gratitude in the moment' thing pretty okay.

But what about the other moments; moments of quiet, prolonged disorientation?  What about the times when you're not where you feel you should be on a given day of the week?  Or you've reached for your paper clips in the wrong drawer for the umpteenth time that morning because everything about your work space is still so new?  Or something beautiful and needed is just oh so conspicuous by its absence.  What then?

So I keep practicing.  And in so doing, I find Tolle's words to be so true.

In fact, I would say that my own personal experience is this:  That in those moments of being fully present, even when it means embracing the disquiet of my own soul, that seems to be where I hear God's voice most clearly.  Where spiritual dimensions do indeed open up for me.  Where the sin of my own certainties and arrogance of my own dogmas can be exposed.  Where the hard benefits of a long obedience in the same direction can be enjoyed.  Where I am most raw and real before the One who loves me outrageously anyways.

So here's my list, a sampling only, of what I am oh so grateful for about the right here, right now of my life.
  • My grandchildren.
  • Forty years of marriage.
  • Another family on the other side of the world.
  • A community of faith that just keeps being so astonishingly full of grace.
  • The places where I belong.
  • The generosity that makes what I do now possible.
  • Friends who keep me honest.
  • Sacred spaces to shelter the more dangerous parts of my journey.
  • Food and clothes and a bed and a roof.
  • Time to work deep and walk slow.
  • A sense of just getting started.
  • A strange sort of fasting that drills me down to what's actually important.
  • Books!
  • Mentors and teachers to press me forward.
  • The wonder of being invited to mentor and teach others.
  • An experience of God that is honest and humbling and takes my breath away.
  • The pain of right now that reminds me of what's true.
  • Being able now to see the bigger story God is writing for my life.
  • Finally beginning to accept and embrace my human limitations.
  • An identity of self that seems just now to be secure in ways that younger years could not allow.
  • Realizing there's adventure and purpose ahead.

Yes.  This.