Summer Vacation 2010

Real Work

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 12:37:00 +0000

In what has become a well known poem, Marge Piercy writes:

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
Has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
But you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
And a person for work that is real.
"To be of use", from Circles on the Water

“Real work” can take many different forms. Like the pitcher that cries for water, we are made for meaningful work, not to be put up on a museum shelf. Sometimes real work is teaching. Sometimes it is managing. Sometimes it is volunteering Sometimes it is parenting. And sometimes real work means participating in your own rescue.

I have been gripped by the plight of the trapped miners in Chile. Psychologists tell us that, along with food and notes from above, these men need real work. They will emerge from this disaster more whole if they can be “partners in their rescue.” Clearing rock and rubble become real work if it leads to your liberation. This is the opposite of being a pitcher sitting on a museum shelf. It is scratching and clawing for your very survival.

What does “real work” look like at this stage in your life? How might participating in your own liberation be a part of it?

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Catching Up With Yourself

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 16:20:00 +0000

Jane went over her handlebars while mountain biking last week. She got banged up pretty good, requiring a week of recovery in bed.

When I asked her how she was doing, her reply struck me. “I could deal without this gaping wound on my face. But truthfully, it has been kind of nice. I feel like I have caught up with myself….maybe for the first time in a long time.”

Later that day, I thought about her words. I have caught up with a few old friends this summer. I have caught up with my brothers. I have caught up on my emails. But have I caught up with myself?

The poet David Whyte says this about a time when he needed to catch up with himself:

I was looking for David because I had become a stranger to myself and didn’t even have time for a snatched conversation about things that really mattered to me. I was looking for David because some inner relationship had been neglected and taken for granted; I had become like an old married couple who had stopped talking years before, the inner friendship with my old self slowly tearing apart under the strain. Behind the curtain was a man who was afraid to cross a threshold of visibility needed to make his place in the world.
Crossing the Unknown Sea, p. 126

There are many ways to catch up with yourself—walks, art, prayer and journaling to name a few. Or here is an idea: While taking a walk or sitting in a favorite place, ask yourself this question: What have I felt the past few days? (Anger? Joy? Energy?) Why? What is going on below the surface?

Our relationship with ourselves is similar to other relationships. It can be ignored or fed, disregarded or strengthened. If we are going to make a difference in the world, we will need to regularly catch up with ourselves.

(Hopefully without flying over the handlebars of our bike.)

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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A Different Take on the Energy Conversation

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 18:19:00 +0000

There is a much needed conversation in this country right now about energy. The headlines tend to be about sources of alternative energy; dependence on foreign oil; drilling in the Arctic; and whether or not the president has enough votes to pass an energy bill. All of these are important topics. But just for a moment, I would like to steer the energy conversation a different direction.

For a moment, forget oil, solar, wind, and nuclear. Consider another energy source. It is free. It is renewable. Accessing it does not depend on the politics of a Middle Eastern country. It will not foul the ocean. It also will not power your cars or light your house. But when tapped into, it creates enough force to change the world.

It is hard to know what to call this power source, but when we drill down into it, energy is created. I am talking here about that place within us where the things we care deeply about reside—our values, passion, and what Merton called True Self. The best name I have come up with for this is “call.”

When we hear a call, energy is released. This energy translates into risk taking, perseverance, courage and creativity. We are able to do things we previously didn’t think we could do. The world has been made better in big and small ways by people fueled by call energy.

As the owner of a chain of bike stores, Tom Henry, is already passionate about alternative energy. But he also knows about call. I once asked him why he spends time and company resources on helping his employees listen for their call. He said, “As a leader in this company, part of my job is to find places of untapped energy. I know that when people are working from a sense of call, there is energy there.”

A few other things about Call Energy:

1. Call Energy is Renewable Energy: It isn’t that we don’t get tired or discouraged when we are following a call. We do, because call is usually hard work. But the energy returns. Spending our time and energy on things that don’t matter to us usually leads (eventually) to burnout. When we expend energy on something that we feel passionate about, the energy returns. I believe this is because there is a larger energy source feeding our call energy. To use an image from the Judeo-Christian tradition, we become like a tree by a river, continually fed by that larger river source.

2. Call Energy is Energy that Also Benefits Others: When we feel called to do something, it is very personal—it is about the things that matter to us. But it is not just about us. The Giver of this energy source (see above) cares about the common good, and so call energy is given for the benefit of others as well.

3. Accessing Call Energy is Easy; Figuring Out How to Use it is Hard: What do you care about? What makes you angry or joyful? What breaks your heart? Most of us have a sense of what is important to us. Figuring out how to translate that into our lives is the tricky part. It can be done, but not without compromise and community. Compromise because following call always involves leaving something behind. Community because without relationship, we cannot consistently access our call energy.

Are you tapping into your call energy?

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Ann Rice is No Longer a Christian

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Thu, 05 Aug 2010 14:51:00 +0000

While I was away on vacation, the novelist Ann Rice stopped being a Christian. This is what she said on her Facebook page:

"For those who care, and I understand if you don't: Today I quit being a Christian. I'm out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being 'Christian' or to being part of Christianity. It's simply impossible for me to 'belong' to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I've tried. I've failed. I'm an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else."

There is a lot to talk about in Rice’s statement, more than one blog could carry. Reading her words, and hearing the subsequent interview on NPR, I found myself feeling a lot. The emotions range from impatience to jealousy, and everything in between. As a churchgoer, I am impatient with people who leave because of the “quarrelsome, hostile” nature of the church. The church, like every other gathering of human beings, is filled flawed human beings. But also as a churchgoer, I am jealous because in many ways and for many of the same reasons, I would like to walk out the door with her. Maybe she is just more courageous than I.

Ann Rice is not the first, nor will she be the last to make distinctions between being committed to Christ and being a Christian. ABC News Editor and ordained minister Dr. Timothy Johnson is not as pessimistic about the church as Ann Rice. But in his book Finding God in the Questions he writes: “This is just one of the many reasons why I have come to prefer the phrase “follower of Jesus” rather than the label “Christian”. The latter word too often simply indicates blind support of the various aspects of the religion called Christianity” (p.134).

I do not pretend to know what is right for Ann Rice. I do believe that some people are called to stay within our organizations and be what John Gardner called “loving critics.” Others are called to work for change from outside the organization. Each has a perspective that is unique. Either can be a faithful call.

I do know that we need community to grow spiritually. It is not possible to be a follower of Jesus (or any faith I presume) without relationships. Killian Noe writes in Finding Our Way Home:

Just as some biological families are healthier than others, so are some spiritual families. But the fact remains: we must have some spiritual family if we are to grow up spiritually. We must have context—or what Parker Palmer calls a ‘congruent community’—if we are to become who we were created to become. If we are to become our truest selves—created in the image of God to love as God loves, to forgive as God forgives and to pour out our lives as Jesus did for the sake of the whole human family—then we must grow and mature in the context of a spiritual family…

As you may know, there is a saying in the 12-step program that goes, “We will love you ’til you love yourself.” God works through people to reveal to us the truth that we are loved, like the prodigal, while we are still a ‘long way off’ from being who we were created to be. It is tempting to separate the love of God from the love of community—to sever the head from the body—but we only come to know ourselves as truly loved in the context of authentic community, where we are both known and loved.

As a churchgoer, I grieve wounds of the traditional church today. Clearly we have not been our best self as an organization. We can do better, and for those of us in churches there are many hard questions we need to face.

At the same time I am also excited about the new forms of “congruent community” that are springing up within and outside of the traditional church. There are many people and places out there that are holding people as they seek to grow in faith. I hope Ann Rice has, or finds, such a place to grow.

PS: If you belong to an authentic spiritual community, let us know…maybe there are other readers of this blog in your area looking for such a place.

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Summer Vacation 2010

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 13:08:00 +0000

How’s your summer vacation?

Remember when summer vacation was from one school year’s end to the beginning of the next school year? As a kid, it seemed like the summer was a long stretch of time for play, relaxation, summer camp, swim lessons, family visits and trips—even across country. By the end of summer vacation, I had somehow grown up enough to be ready for the new school year in the next grade whether it was second grade, 8th, or finally 12th grade.

Now as an adult, summer vacation comes and goes in a flash. I usually have fun, travel a lot to see kids and grandkids, rest a little (maybe not), and I eat too much. Adult vacation is usually defined by being away from work and still being paid. Some say that going barefoot is a sure sign that you are on vacation. Pictures or videos tell the story, too. I just saw my daughter’s pictures of her vacation on Facebook. She and her husband looked so relaxed in the Rockies riding horses, hiking, and taking in the beautiful scenery of Colorado. Now that’s a vacation!

The word vacation is from the Latin word vacare, to be empty, at leisure. I’ve had one week of vacation from work this summer so far—a family reunion in the quiet and beauty of the state park in Indiana where my daughter lives. It was extra-ordinary! “Ordinary” in that 15 of us just hung out together and experienced the rhythms of each day without work pressures cooking and eating together, playing the spontaneous games that broke out with the grandkids, and telling stories about our lives over the past year. “Extra” in that all of us were at leisure and enjoyed being with each other—at least for a few days. One early morning awake before everyone else, I even found a moment of “emptiness” which gave me more space for being blessed by the presence of 14 other people that day.

This summer vacation has taught me to prepare for my next vacation by under-planning and letting empty space fill with a bounty of being with people I love as we tell stories and let the unexpected happen.

How has your summer vacation been or is it yet to be? How did you prepare for vacation (besides the packing preparations)? What will you remember from your vacation in the dead of winter? Did you experience a sense of leisure? Was there a moment when you felt “empty” of all the pressures of everyday life?

Happy Summer Vacation!

by Betsy Perry, Guest Blogger while Doug is on his vacation.

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 15:46:00 +0000

Are you taking care of something, steadily, repeatedly, regularly, and not sure why you are doing so? Do you ever keep at something, despite having mediocre-to-no-good results? Tending my garden is like that for me. Sometimes tending my call is like that, too.

For the garden, I read the instructions on the seed packets. I try to learn the sunny spots, the shady spots, the partially sunny spots, the dappled shade spots. I try to manage the compost, the water drainage, the weeds, the non-native invasives, the mulch, and the slugs.

For my call, my good work in the world which is part of creating the kingdom of God here on earth, I pay attention; I listen for guidance. I go to groups of like-minded people for support, or learn from lectures and readings for inspiration. I pray, and I work.

Often, it seems most of my effort is in vain. In the garden, is anything beautiful growing? With my call, is more good happening in the world?

I recently was inpsired by the gardens in Maine - such color! all native plants! perennials! easy care! So I came back to tend our garden here with renewed vigor. I trotted out to the most forlorn spot - over taken by crabgrass and other scary weeds that I can't figure out how to manage. slowly and steadily I worked... surely something good can come from all this effort, eh? Lo and behold! There was an itty bitty "Sacred Datura" plant. Do you know this plant? It's a wonder.

It is vespertine, meaning it's a night-flowering plant, attracting the nector-seeking night creatures such as bats and moths, which is why I love it. It looks like a very large morning glory, but is more closely related to petunias and tomatoes than those morning vines. It grows wild along the banks of the Potomac River here in VA; it's origins are from the tropics, where varieties of the plant are still used by the shamans of South America.

Datura growing along Potomac River

TWO YEARS AGO I gathered some seeds from their prickly pods along the river, and lovingly planted them in what I thought was good soil. I tended them well, for two years, and got no results. Alas - a regular expereince for me. This year, I'd given up. And wouldn't you know it - there is the beautiful wonderplant Datura, growing strong, all on it's own.

Madeleine L'Engle said a little benign neglect is good for children, the garden, and the soul. This seems true in my garden. I am wondering if it is also true in tending my call.

by Tiffany Montavon

Where Do You Get Your "Call" Stories?

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 15:51:00 +0000

It’s the birthday of Henry David Thoreau, who said, "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

If you heard me say the above sentence in the unmistakable voice of Garrison Keillor, then you are a fan of the Writers Almanac. It happens to come on to my local NPR station at 8:37am each morning, which means I often hear it on my way to work.

In just a few minutes time, Keillor manages to tell what I see as “call stories”-- examples of novelists, poets, and other people who are doing or have done what they do out of a sense of passion and deep values. The example above of Thoreau is typical. The words come to me as I drive down the highway in my Volkswagen, heading to work where I will type on a computer while sitting in air conditioned comfort. It is not exactly Walden. Still, I find the Writer’s Almanac actually helps me to live, as Thoreau said, more “deliberately.” When I am told the life stories of others, hearing of their perseverance and conviction, it helps me to live with perseverance and conviction as well.

Almost every day there is some example of what it means to live your call from of Writer’s Almanac. Here are a few examples from the past few days of the show:

*The call to create something good out of a painful situation: “After a young pig he was raising got sick and he failed to save its life, he (E.B. White) wrote one of his most famous essays, "Death of a Pig." Then he wrote a children's novel in which the pig doesn't have to die: Charlotte's Web (1952). It's the story of a runt pig named Wilbur who is saved the first time by a little girl and the second time by a wise spider. It is one of the best-selling children's books of all time.”

*The call to persevere: “Mystery Novelist Donald Westlake got 204 rejection slips before his first book was published.”

*The call to both activism and enjoyment: "My conviction simply is that power must always be defeated, that the struggle must always continue to defeat power. I don't go looking for fights. I'm really a very lazy person. I enjoy my peace and quiet. There's nothing I love better than just to sit quietly somewhere, you know, have a glass of wine, read a book, listen to music." (Nigerian playwright Wole Soyinka)

*The call to improve things through satire: "Satire is the bringing to ridicule of vice, folly and humbug. All the negatives imply a set of positives. Certainly in this country, you only go round saying, 'That's wrong, that's corrupt' if you have some feeling that it should be better than that. People say, 'You satirists attack everything.' Well, we don't, actually. That's the whole point." (Ian Hislop, editor of The Private Eye)

And finally back to E.B. White for my favorite “call” line of the past few days:
"I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day."

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Mike Bikes

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 15:56:00 +0000

As I head into work this morning, I see Mike riding by on his bike. Mike owns the local bike shop, and every day I see him ride his bike to and from work. Mike sells bikes, and he rides bikes. This is one definition of integrity—“the quality or state of being undivided.”

What “business” are you in? Are you living it?

PS I pay a steep price when I live a divided life—feeling fraudulent, anxious about being found out, and depressed by the fact that I am denying my own selfhood. The people around me pay a price as well, for now they walk on ground made unstable by my dividedness. How can I affirm another’s identity when I deny my own? How can I trust another’s integrity when I defy my own? A fault line runs down the middle of my life, and whenever it cracks open—divorcing my words and actions from the truth I hold within—things around me get shaky and start to fall apart.
Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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How to Win the World Cup, Improve Health Care, and Defeat the Taliban

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 15:24:00 +0000

I sat over a cup of tea talking to a doctor. He told me that he almost didn’t come to the physician colleague group I have been running at his hospital because it sounded too “touchy feely.” I smiled, appreciating his honesty. He is not alone—many busy people believe that getting to know one another below the surface is a time luxury they simply can’t afford.

In my opinion, we can’t afford not to.

France’s soccer team was supposed to contend for the World Cup. Instead they totally imploded in a spectacular display of disunity. General Stanley McChrystal was relieved of his duties in Afghanistan, not because of his performance on the battle field. Rather it was a breakdown of trust and communication between him and President Obama.

In the meantime, I am hip--deep in studies showing that patient outcomes improve at hospitals where the staff pays attention to teambuilding.

Anyone who has ever been in a relationship knows that they aren’t easy. Whether talking about a soccer team, running a war, or working in an emergency room, working together is complicated. Each of us is an intricate, knotty, convoluted blend of neurons and needs, light and lunacy. Add the pressure of whatever the battlefield represents in your work, and it makes for a sensitive environment.

Most research indicates that the simple act of knowing one another at a deeper level improves communication and work performance. Taking a few moments to deepen relationships amongst colleagues when you are not in the heat of the battle usually improves team performance when you are there.

I am pleased to report that the aforementioned doctor is now an active part of our physician colleague group. He is honest, authentic and articulate. If I ever found myself on my back in an emergency room, I would hope to see his face looking down on me. Along with an appreciation for his medical skills, I would be glad to know that he is a part of a team that communicates well.

Working on our relationships with colleagues is not a touchy-feely luxury. It can be the difference between winning or losing, life or death.

Question: How is your team functioning? What can you do to make it better?

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Ending Well

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 15:18:00 +0000

This is an interesting time of year. There are many new beginnings, with something fresh coming up in the garden almost every week. But it is also a time of endings. School years, graduations, and programs that have run since September are winding down.

This week my daughter had her last day of school. Last week I participated in the Memorial Service of a cherished mentor. Later this summer a friend is moving. All of them endings of one kind or another.

Ending well matters for many reasons. Management expert William Bridges once said “In my work I see teams, departments and sometimes entire companies fall apart because they never found a way to grieve over a significant loss.” (Managing Transitions, p. 26) Ending well is the first step toward whatever is going to come after the ending.

Clearly ending a school year and grieving a beloved family member is not the same thing. There are risks to generalizing. But all are kinds of endings, and I see some similarities. Here is a start:

1. Ending well means acknowledging pain: Ending usually hurts. There are good times to celebrate that will be missed. There are people who have been important that we will not see. Something that once had meaning for us will no longer be there. Even if the event or person has been challenging, there is a lot of ourselves we have put into the experience. Sometimes there is the acknowledgement that dreams we thought would come into fruition have not. Endings are about limits, something we humans generally find painful.

2. Ending well means expressing gratitude: Often our gratitude is obvious—students can give thanks for teachers and what they have learned; mourners can give thanks for the time they had with their loved one; laid off employees can give thanks for what their experiences have taught them. The beloved friend I am missing used to say “Nothing is wasted.” God can use any experience, even the hard ones. There is much to grateful for.

3. Ending well creates space for what is next: Ending well is really the first step for what comes next. Releasing something or someone means that are hands are now free to receive whatever is the next call. We will be more open to the next job, next relationship, next task if we have lived fully into our goodbye.

Just one example: A group of Lumunos folk who have put on a conference every year for the past 30 or so are wondering if the time has come to stop meeting. So there is an email exchange happening as they process this important moment. This morning I was moved to read these words from the unofficial chaplain of the group:

Pictures of their faces come to mind as I write. I remember once feeling like I was walking alongside one unknown, whose life was really a death, hidden cave-like behind boulders of guilt and shame. There is life in this person now, an identity acknowledged and accepted, that was birthed in the FAW/Lumunos community. I've witnessed literally hundreds of faces, bearing the pressures to keep life afloat, loose those marks; replaced by the glow drawn from the flow of the Spirit moving through our small groups. I cherish those memories and celebrate those lives..

And I'm grieving those faces I won't see again until we eat together at the table our Lord is preparing for us all. My sense is my call is to say good bye. Goodbye to a community and a process that gave me a place. A safe place to love and be loved. If the time has come for us all to bid good bye to this weekend in February, then the time has come for me to thank all of you for making it all happen.

Did you hear it? Acknowledgment of pain. Expression of gratitude. And the realization that saying goodbye is a kind of call in its own right. One that makes room for a new call.

What else makes for ending well?

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Call Story #57: What Am I Doing in this Dumpster?

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 16:22:00 +0000

Every day people are living out their call in a million different ways. Today’s call story involves a mother and a trash can.

Lisa McCarthy started a recycling program at Mark Twain Elementary School in Long Beach, CA. It sounds much easier than it actually was. When Lisa first realized how much was being thrown out at lunch time, she approached school officials. They approved the creation of the recycling program - if Lisa did everything herself.

In Lisa’s story, there are a number of themes common to people following their call. While sometimes these moments happen in neat, chronological order, more often they pop up at random times:

1. The “Uh Oh” Moment: Lisa describes the moment when she realized how much recyclable trash was being thrown out. “Uh oh” she thought. “I am going to have to do something about this.” It is that moment when we realize that we are being called to act, and our action is not necessarily going to be fun or easy. We need to do it, but something inside of us (rightly) says, “This will be hard.” In her book Call to the Soul, Marjory Bankson names this resistance to call.

2. The “You are on the Right Track” Moment: Lisa started talking about the problem to other parents, and a lot of heads started nodding. Not everyone thought she should do something about it. (See below) But people she trusted consistently said, “Yes, this is right.” Confirmation of call from others is important, or we risk misreading the signals we are getting.

3. The “Start Simple or you Won’t Start” Moment: By her own admission, Lisa didn’t know what she was doing. (“I didn’t even know what I didn’t even know.”) But she didn’t have the luxury of developing a well thought out plan, tested and evaluated. For a variety of reasons, she needed to act quickly. So she acted in some simple and basic ways, just taking the first small steps forward to developing a recycling plan for the school cafeteria. Making it up as you go is often a part of the early stages of following a call. Change expert Robert Quinn calls this “building the bridge as you walk on it.”

4. The “Oh Oh” Moment, Part 2: If the first resistance comes from inside us (see #1), the second often comes from others. In Lisa’s case, it was the school cafeteria employees who were not pleased. Lisa was upsetting standard practice that had been in place for years. Following her call meant others needed to change, and that didn’t make them happy. In a variety of ways she was seen as an enemy to the cafeteria employees. Following call usually means doing something that someone isn’t going to like.

5. The “What Am I Doing Upside Down in this Dumpster?” Moment: One day a few months in, the janitor inadvertently threw out some recyclables that Lisa had worked hard to separate the day before. So there she was, halfway in the dumpster, fishing around for juice boxes that were recyclable. It was emblematic of the many moments she questioned why she was following this call. Along with angry cafeteria workers and dumpster diving, her own kids resisted initially. “I am just trying to do a good thing here”, she thought. “Why is this so hard?” These moments do not necessarily mean you are doing the wrong thing.

6. The “I Am Making a Difference” Moment: It is now a few years later, and Lisa can see the difference she has made. Some of it is easy to measure: Since starting recycling, the cafeteria now throws away only one barrel of trash a day, rather than eight. Sometimes our “I am making a difference” moments are less concrete or measurable. We need to have them in some form, or we cannot keep going. And sometimes we need others to point them out to us, because, well, we are halfway in the dumpster.

7. The “Give it Away” Moment: Lisa persevered, and by the second year she had established the Green Team at Mark Twain Elementary School. Now many of the students are eager to join with Lisa and other volunteer parents. At some point the work needs to be shared or given away.

What is your call these days? Do you recognize any of these moment?

Lisa McCarthy’s story can be found on the archives of the radio show The story. And for another recycling story, check out Marty Resotko’s article from the Lumunos archives.

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Power on the Playground

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Thu, 27 May 2010 19:54:00 +0000

Some of you remember Robert Fulghum’s essay “Everything I needed to know I learned in kindergarten.” He called it his credo, and it included things like “Play fair”, and “Clean up your own mess” (BP take note.) It went viral before there was much of a viral.

I thought of Fulghum’s piece the other day as I went through my son’s preschool notebook. In it I came across a single sheet of paper that said this:

You are Powerful When You….

*Help someone
*Do something good
*Try something that is hard to do
*Follow rules
*Share a turn
*Make new friends
*Give your brother or sister something
*Make something for someone
*Listen
*Help somebody find something
*Keep yourself healthy

There is nothing in this definition about money, physical strength or prestige. Nor does it describe many of the people our society considers powerful. In this definition we are most powerful when we are giving something away, serving, or deepening a relationship. Most of the world’s great spiritual traditions would agree.

It is one thing to imagine the way this definition of power gets lived out on a playground. But like Fulgum’s list, it really gets interesting (and challenging) when I apply it to my adult life. More interesting (and challenging) still when I try to balance the first and last one on the list.

This week, what might it mean to try something hard, or listen? How might you help somebody find something or keep yourself healthy? Will these acts make you powerful?

See you on the playground, where most good learning happens.

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Trailmarkers Toward a More Meaningful Life

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Fri, 21 May 2010 15:01:00 +0000

“What does this mean?” might just be my favorite question. (Not counting “Would you like a second scoop of Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby?”)

Life moves quickly. We are bombarded with experiences, conversations, interactions, feelings and images. Most of those are just life coming at us—we cannot take them all in and ponder the meaning of each and every thing that happens. But some of those experiences are like trailmarkers to something deeper, something meaningful. They are clues toward a life of greater significance and integrity.

• Steve was talking with a few of us. In a fairly routine way, he mentioned his wife. Suddenly he got choked up, caught off guard by his emotion. Steve wondered what that was all about.

• Mary is tired again today. Maybe she has a low grade virus, or maybe her body is telling her something else—She wonders what her fatigue means?

• Jose went in to his favorite small bookstore yesterday and had a casual conversation with Bill the owner. While talking, Bill revealed something about himself that Jose didn’t know before. Jose felt like they connected in some small way, and he walked away more energized by the conversation. Why did that conversation feel meaningful?

This Sunday the Christian church marks an event called Pentecost. In the story found in Acts 2, a wild and crazy event happens to a group of people who have gathered for a religious festival. Nobody knows exactly what is going on. While it is a more dramatic happening than what most of us experience in our daily lives, the question they ask is the same: What does this mean?

One of the keys to a deeper inner life is a willingness to slow down long enough to ask this question about the experiences we have. In some cases, the conversation/experience/dream/feeling might not mean much at all. Freud said that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and for us sometimes that feeling in our gut is just last night’s burrito. It may not mean anything more than that.

Or not. In speaking about these kinds of questions, Barbara Brown Taylor writes:

Most of my visions of the divine have happened while I was busy doing something else….My only part is to decide how I will respond, since there is plenty I can do to make them go away, namely: 1) I can figure that I have had too much caffeine again; 2) I can remind myself that visions are not true in the same way that taxes and the evening news are true; or 3) I can return my attention to everything I need to get done today. These are only a few of the things I can do to talk myself out of living in the House of God.
Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World

Have you come across any trailmarkers lately?

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Wholehearted

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Wed, 12 May 2010 16:05:00 +0000

The antidote to exhaustion is not necessarily rest, so says the poet David Whyte. No, sometimes the antidote to exhaustion is wholeheartedness.

In his highly recommended book Crossing the Unknown Sea: Work as a Pilgrimage of Identity, Whyte recounts these words spoken to him by a trusted friend at a time of real work exhaustion:

You are so tired through and through because a good half of what you do here in this organization has nothing to do with your true powers, or the place you have reached in your life. You are only half there, and half here will kill you after a while.
Crossing the Unknown Sea, p. 132

We can do work that is not right for us for awhile. Sometimes for a long while. But eventually it will kill us. Maybe literally, or maybe just a piece of our soul or passion or joy dies. One way or another, spending our energy on things we don’t care about eventually takes our life.
This true for our volunteer efforts as well. In a recent article in Inc. Magazine, Meg Cadoux Hirschberg wrote that nurturing ourselves by doing things we're passionate about in turn allows us to "wholeheartedly" nurture others -- including our families and the organizations we work with. She rightly points out that there is tension when we take family time to volunteer our time for good causes….but if we are giving ourselves to things we feel strongly about, we will often come back to the family more wholehearted.

It is important to spend our precious time on things we care deeply about. When we are “called to the cause”, even when it is hard, the energy will usually come back. When we aren’t, the energy we spend volunteering will usually turn into anger or bitterness. And the trickle down effect will impact those closest to us.

Most things worth doing will be hard at some point. This is true in our vocations and avocations, our paid work and volunteer efforts. But if it is always hard; if the energy doesn’t come back after a challenging stretch; then it is probably time to do some thinking and praying. Because half there will kill you after awhile.

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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How Far Will Buddy Go?

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Thu, 06 May 2010 19:21:00 +0000

While waiting to get on my 5:15pm commuter bus, I watch my driver Buddy help a blind man off the bus. The man is either new to riding the bus, or maybe even new to his blindness. He didn’t have the ease and dexterity I see in some people as they navigate obstacles with their red tipped canes.

Buddy helps the man off the bus, and now keeps going. With the man’s arm around his, he walks ten yards up to the busy crosswalk. Is he actually going to walk him across the street? How long will he leave his $350,000 bus unattended? How far will Buddy go?

Buddy is hands down the best bus driver I have seen. I take the bus into work about two times a week, and each time I appreciate the way he does his job. He has the basics covered—safe driver, gets people boarded efficiently, shows up on time, gives us all the information he has if there is a problem. It is the “above and beyond” part that I really appreciate. He greets many of his customers by name as they get on. On Fridays he hands out free mints to celebrate the upcoming weekend. Occasionally he will turn on the microphone to tell a joke. Whether or not he would use these words, it is clear that Buddy sees his work as a ministry and service to others.

How far will Buddy go with the blind man? How far do any of us go when we are doing the work we are called to do? There always comes a point—sometimes sooner, sometimes later—when one part of our call comes into conflict with another call we have. Buddy was helping a blind man who could have used help getting across the street. But he also had customers waiting to get on, and a $350,000 bus he was responsible for.

The other evening I sat with a committee I have been on for a few years. Our group runs a children’s program my kids are involved in. I care about the program, both for my kids benefit and others. That night we were talking about all the slots we needed to fill and the things that needed to get done. I looked at my calendar and the other commitments I had made, and I wondered, “How far will Doug go?” What will be the impact on other aspects of my life if I say "yes" to some of these needs?

There is no template or formula to answer this question. As one Lumunos writer said, our lives are a little more like beef stew than a neatly compartmentalized TV dinner. (Full story) The pieces of our lives are usually intermingling in a messy way, with no clear borders. We make our decisions with fear and trembling. And then we make them again.

Buddy left the man at the street corner, and warmly greeted us as we boarded the bus.

Doug Wysockey-Johnson

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Stop! (Part 2)

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 17:52:00 +0000

What does it take to stop you in your tracks? Are you more likely to pause for something beautiful, disturbing or humorous?

You may have heard about the experiment conducted by the Washington Post a few years ago. It is worth reading the whole story. They placed the world renowned violinist Joshua Bell in a Washington DC Metro stop where he played some of the most intricate pieces of music ever written. During that time approximately one thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. Almost no one stopped to listen. In many instances children wanted to pause, but in every case their parents forced them to move along. After 45 minutes, people had tossed about $20 into his violin case. (Two days before Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats cost $100. He was playing on a violin worth $3.5 million dollars.)

If I imagine myself at that metro stop on a typical weekday, I probably wouldn’t have stopped either. I would have noticed that the violinist was better than most street musicians, but it wouldn’t have stopped me in my tracks. The bigger issue would have been time, work and parenting: If I was trying to drop my child off at daycare and get to work on time, listening to music would be a luxury I couldn’t afford.

The Post got it right when they identified some of the questions going through people’s minds as they walked through the station:

Each passerby had a quick choice to make, one familiar to commuters in any urban area where the occasional street performer is part of the cityscape: Do you stop and listen? Do you hurry past with a blend of guilt and irritation, aware of your cupidity but annoyed by the unbidden demand on your time and your wallet? Do you throw in a buck, just to be polite? Does your decision change if he's really bad? What if he's really good? Do you have time for beauty? Shouldn't you? What's the moral mathematics of the moment?

There are many interesting angles and questions to this experiment. How important is place and context to our ability to perceive beauty? Why do children seem more able to live in the moment? What does it take to “stop us in our tracks?”

And here are two observations this experiment evoked in me:

1. There is more beauty around us than we realize. It may not take the form of world class music, but every day there is an abundant banquet laid out before us. The gifts are sensory, relational, artistic, colorful and subtle. Sometimes the gifts are even painful. Our willingness to pause will in large measure impact our ability to receive these gifts.

2. There is grace in remembering. Back for a moment to those busy parents, dragging their children along so they can get to work. For people like them (and me), there is grace. There is the potential to reflect back and remember what we missed in the moment. Will it be as powerful as if stopped when it happened? Probably not. But later in the day, or the next morning, the gift is still there for the receiving. Sometimes it is the best we can do.

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Stop!

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Fri, 23 Apr 2010 15:26:00 +0000

Here is my newest strategy for making the world a better place. My one and only job will be to encourage people to stop before agreeing to do anything. I’ll set up a phone in my office, a kind of discernment hotline. When it rings (it will probably be red and flash like in the old Batman show), I’ll pick it up and shout, “STOP!!! Don’t say yes. Don’t say no either. Give it some time. Pause and ponder." I haven’t figured out how much I am going to charge for this service, but I think it is worth a lot.

I know there is a need. In the past 24 hours, four different people have said to me some version of “Why did I agree so quickly to do this project/task/committee/commitment? At the time I was asked, it seemed like such a good idea.”

“Yes” may or may not ultimately be the right response to any of these commitments. Many things worth doing are challenging. I don’t pretend to know. (Though I do have at least 10 Ideas for what to do while seeking clarity.) I do know the value of stopping, pausing, reflecting before agreeing to take something new on. Our world moves at such a rapid pace. Bringing that pace into our inner life, where good decisions are born, creates a kind of east-meets-west, oil and vinegar experience.

Sure it is possible to over think a decision. I even believe it is possible to over pray a decision. There are times when it is right to act, even though the path ahead is still very foggy. But in today’s world, where busyness is an epidemic, it is worth giving any decision some time. The right "yes" is usually the result of a few "no's".

Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Did you Hear the One About the Gastroenterologist?

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 12:27:00 +0000

Rachel Remen tells of visiting a historic graveyard in Canada, where she came across a headstone with this inscription:

“Here lies George Brown, born a man, died a gastroenterologist”
Kitchen Table Wisdom, p. 42

I know, I know. Like yours, my first thoughts were, “How pathetic that this guy ultimately defined himself by what he did for work. And if that was all there was to him, then yes, it is sad.

But maybe this as well. Maybe George Brown was a gastroenterologist who cared deeply for his vocation and the people he served in that vocation. Maybe there were hundreds and hundreds of people that experienced relief from painful digestive disorders because of George Brown. I have experienced enough of my own to be grateful for the George Browns of this world.

I would want to speak to the headstone editor, if there was such a thing in Canada back then. The problem is how the inscription reads, as if George began as a man and then shed that humanity to be a gastroenterologist.

It is when we are able to bring our full selves to work that it becomes a vocation.

Reflection Question:
What do you want inscribed on your headstone?

by Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Could Holy Week Survive Without the Church?

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Fri, 02 Apr 2010 15:59:00 +0000

What would happen if churches closed their doors during Holy Week and Easter? No Maundy Thursday services, no Good Friday liturgies, no lilly packed altars on Sunday morning. This is a ridiculous thought, not unlike a shopping mall choosing to close their doors during their busiest week. (Which is usually and ironically the week before the celebration of the birth of Jesus.) If ever a religious community should gather, it is to mark the events of Holy Week right? I wonder….

Before going any further with this heresy, let me say that I find great meaning in the services of Holy Week. I will be there Sunday morning singing “Christ the Lord Has Risen Today” as loudly as my children will allow. I believe in the power of gathering to tell the story, to recount the events, to reflect on what it all means today.

What it all means today….that is what sometimes gets lost amongst the palms and the lilly’s and the choruses of “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?” What does all this matter for the world we live in today?

Earlier this week Inward/Outward sent out this quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer:

To be a Christian does not mean to be religious in a particular way, to make something of oneself (a sinner, a penitent, or a saint) on the basis of some method or other, but to be human--not a type of human, but the human that Christ creates in us. It is not the religious act that makes the Christian, but participation in the sufferings of God in the secular life.

Source: Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison

When our Holy Week services become just religious acts, we miss the point and we miss God. When the story is integrated into what is going on around us, we have a better chance of, as Bonhoeffer says, participating in the sufferings of God.

One of the best experiences I ever had during Holy Week was participating in a liturgy using the Stations of the Cross. These stations of the cross were not artwork nailed to a church wall. Rather we walked around a poverty wracked neighborhood in Chicago. We read and prayed in front of homeless shelters, crack houses and children playing around broken glass. The sufferings of Jesus never felt more real.

So back to my original question: What would happen if the churches shut their doors this week? How would those of us who consider ourselves followers of Jesus mark the events of Holy Week?

Just one idea: Walk around your neighborhood (or apartment or condo or office or any "secular" place) and look for signs of Jesus' suffering and resurrection.

by Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Counting on Your Crew When the Weather Gets Stormy

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 12:59:00 +0000

Who do you count on when the weather gets rough? Do you have the right crew assembled for when the next storm system comes through?

At a recent Lumunos retreat, we looked at the story of Jesus calming the storm A part of our conversation was about who constitutes our crew when we face the storms of life. Story after story was told about the importance of having people with us when we face those times of trial.

There is not one kind of crew member. Often times we need a variety of friends when we are in heavy weather. A few of the types of crew we identified on the retreat:

• the “I can be totally honest with you” friend

• the “Sure I’ll come over and cut your lawn because you are in a storm and have no time to attend to routine chores” friend

• the “I need to tell you as a friend that you have a storm brewing in your life and you don’t even see it coming” friend.

• the “Do you want to pray about this?” friend

We also talked about the unexpected crew member, the person who is outside our preconceived notion of who are friends are. But by the grace of God, they show up and help us get through the storm.

Soon we will be in Holy week, which represented a kind of perfect storm for Jesus. It is almost as if he experienced all the kinds of trials we face, concentrated in a few days. I wonder if he had cultivated his crew in part as preparation for this storm. Some of these crew members let him down in big ways. But he too experienced the grace of a stranger stepping out of the crowd to help carry his cross.

Question: As we head into Holy Week: What kind of crew member do you need for a current or upcoming storm? What kind of crew member are you called to be for another?

by Doug Wysockey-Johnson

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St. Patrick’s Day and Green Pants

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 19:27:00 +0000

The guy at my local YMCA is wearing a big green fuzzy hat today. He is also decked out in some snazzy lime green pants. I look at him and I smile. He looks so wonderfully goofy that I have to grin and pick my head up.

Today I am a stressed out guy with way too much on his plate. Today I am taking myself and the world too seriously. I would like to attribute that to my deeply spiritual Lenten practices, but really I am just wound a little tight. And this is where the guy in the green pants comes in.

The world needs people in funny hats. It is no small thing to bring a smile to another’s face. Sometimes it can turn a whole day around, and who knows what might happen after that?

Joy is closer to God than seriousness. Why? Because when I am serious I tend to be self centered, but when I am joyful I tend to forget myself.
Krister Stendahl, emeritus Bishop of Stockholm

by Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Sankofa

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 18:33:00 +0000

Sometimes the best thing to do when you need to go forward is to look back. Today I am learning this from the Akan people of Ghana.

“Sankofa” is the word they use to describe the learning that comes from revisiting the past. Sankofa is critical for moving into the future.

There are so many other examples of people using this wisdom, I think it must be hard wired into the universe. Just in our culture and country:

Organizations look at their past as a part of strategic planning for the future;
Therapists help clients review the past as a tool to help them live differently in the future;
Athletes study film of past games in order to play differently in upcoming contests.

I have an 80 year old friend who begins each day by looking at his journal from 10 years ago to the day. This is not someone who is stuck in the past. He says the looking back gives him perspective as he lives into the challenges of the current day.

Is it possible to get stuck in the past, or dwell there in unhealthy ways? Sure. But it is equally possible to refuse to learn from the past, which is its own form of stupidity.

To a people who stood at the crossroads, God seemed to invite this kind of reflection:
Stand at the crossroads, and look and ask for the ancient paths where the good way lies; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. (Jeremiah 6:16)

Sometimes the best thing to do when you need to move forward is to look back.

Reflection Question: What part of your life could use a little “Sankofa?”
by Doug Wysockey-Johnson
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Long View, Short View, & Call

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 19:34:00 +0000

Are you taking the 30,000 foot view, appreciating where you are on the journey to live your call in the world? Or, are you focusing only on your toe tips, managing the very next step, as best you can make it? Either way, it's a place of faith. Here's another exploration in snowshoeing to give a visual of what taking the long view, and the short view might be like for you!

by Tiffany Montavon
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SnowShoeing & Spiritual Companionship

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 23:21:00 +0000

Who Knew? Snowshoeing provides many insights for the Spiritual Journey! Well, at least 1 minute and 56 seconds worth.

Question: Whose tracks do you follow?

by Tiffany Montavon

Meaningful Action

noreply@blogger.com (Lumunos) — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 14:05:00 +0000

Ahhhh here we are, so soon, in the discussion of contemplation versus action. This has been the crossroads for people of faith for millennia. Since Doug invited the importance of the Pause in the last blog, I'll invite the importance of Action.

What I love about the for-profit company Green Mountain Coffee using "A Revelation in Every Cup" as their marketing slogan is that it's actually true. Potentially true, I should say.

If coffee farmers the world over were paid a fair wage for their effort and product, it would indeed change the world.

If every person sipping a cup of coffee became aware of the entire chain of relationship for that one cup, from growers tilling the soil to community members bringing beans to market to coffee buyers and sellers to the roasters, to the marketers, to the trees grown to make the disposable cup, instead of simply focusing on that one cup and their own price and satisfaction, that would be QUITE a revelation!

And finally, the hope is that such a revelation would change how that one cup of coffee was produced, for the good of God's world, if in fact change was needed. To be a just world, change is indeed needed.

Green Mountain Coffee and Ashoka's Changemakers are actually looking "for the most innovative ideas to inspire community action, " hosting a competition to do just that. They are hoping the moment of revelation with your coffee can be turned into action that "motivates local citizens to strengthen communities." The deadline for idea submissions is April 21st - what an interesting Lenton practice that could be! "How can I make my community a better place?"

Certainly it is important to stand at the crossroads, pause and reflect, and turn away from busy-ness. Now, I'm wondering if a different crossroads to explore is busy-ness versus action. Busy means distraction; my attention is fractured, divided up and scattered. Action means conscious awareness; focused attention with awareness of how everything is connected. So that every choice does indeed matter.

Resources for this exploration:
Just Coffee.org: We met these great folks on the Everything Must Change Tour with Brian McLaren. REALLY good coffee, delivered right to you, and everyone along the way makes their fair share. No, it's not expensive, either!

Spirituality and Practice: they provide excellent classes, resources, and discussions on action and reflection. Right now they have two excellent series going on: "Watching the Olympics as a Spiritual Practice" and a Lent series with the writings of Catholic Priest Edward Hayes, who views Lent as a time of expansion and growth instead of restriction and sacrifice. Great stuff!

Center for Action and Contemplation: "a place of discernment and growth for activists and those interested in social service ministries—a place to be still, and learn how to integrate a contemplative lifestyle with compassionate service." They have events, resources, and is another place for action/reflection conversation.

Charity Focus.org. These folks have many ways of sending out good information in the world, and encouragement for the Faith Journey. I get a dially email with a quote and a story of GOOD ACTION in the world, with a "how to live this" invitation to ACTION at the end.

Today , the quote was "Since you cannot do good to all, you are to pay special attention to those who, by the accidents of time, or place, or circumstances, are brought into closer connection with you." --Augustine of Hippo. The Good Action story was of a coffee shop owner who asked clients to consider setting aside their laptop for a certain amount of time to actually interact with the people sitting in the coffee shop. The Be The Change invitation was to "budget your computer time, and use your newly freed time to connect with someone face-to-face."
by Tiffany Montavon
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