The holidays pose so many opportunities for us to clarify who we are and how we want to live. Just think about the gift-giving aspect alone — how many presents should we give our kids? How many is enough? How many is too many? Should we push our budget into overdrive or hold firm to our limits? Should we give hand-made gifts to our siblings, even if we risk creating tension and confusion, or head to the mall for a JC Penney special?

There are so many potential areas of conflict between partners, parents, and loved ones of all sorts, as we make our way through the holiday season, each of us with our own perspective, expectations, values and histories. Let’s be gentle with each other as the holiday unfolds and look for moments to savor and to appreciate.

Where will be find these moments? Are they automatically revealed when presents are opened? Will a mountain of holiday gifts translate into a mountain of appreciation? We all know that life is not always this simple. In fact, it could be argued that the more we have, the less we savor. At least sometimes that’s the case. Factor in a simmering sense of entitlement, and our sense of appreciation can become jaded. A tendency to compare our gifts with others can breed resentment. There are so many factors that can detract from our ability to savor and appreciate the gifts of life. What to do?

A sense of gratitude doesn’t develop overnight, but in our everyday lives we can bring our family’s attention to what we have rather than what we lack. We can take moments, here and there, to recognize our good fortune and the support that holds our lives together. For example, before dinner we can pause to think about our day, with a question such as “who helped us have a good day today?” Our family often considers this question, with each person identifying someone who played a positive role in the unfolding of the day. Perhaps Bi’s friend gave her a piece of gum. Or Chani’s basketball coach took time to help her with her shooting. Maybe one of our members sent along some kind words to me, or our lovedog, Barley, made us laugh with his mouth overflowing with toys. The more we can direct our attention to what’s going right, the more normal it starts to feel, carrying through to the holiday season.

When our girls were young we introduced an element of mindfulness on Christmas morning, which did not seem to detract from the fun – in fact, it added significance and elevated the importance of each gift. After examining the intriguing and beautifully wrapped gifts under our tree, we would take turns giving the spotlight to one of us at a time. That person would unwrap one of their mysteries while the rest of us gave them our attention. That was our opportunity to savor each present as it entered our family. After the gift had been examined and admired, and a word of thanks was offered (even to absent gift-givers), the next person would select theirs and on we’d go.

The process of opening gifts this way takes longer, but why would we want to rush through this long-anticipated special time? We all know that things don’t bring us happiness. We get used to them quickly, the thrill wears off fast, and we’re on to the next thing that we’d love to own. But the act of giving gifts is a lovely process. It’s our symbolic way of saying “I love you and want you to be happy”. And even though the glow fades quickly, there can be a brief burst of happiness when we acquire those new things. It’s the getting of things that holds most of the excitement, not the having of things. So if we’re going to do an exchange of gifts, we might as well highlight those moments and make the most of them.

On the heels of the holidays is a new year. “Hard to believe another year has passed so quickly.” is a common refrain these days. We can’t slow down the clock or budge the calendar, but we can find ways of savoring our moments so that we inhabit them more fully, rather than racing through them. That creates an expansiveness that seems to enhance our time. We can direct our attention to the moment that’s unfolding and create a greater likelihood of gratitude and awareness. We’ve mentioned elsewhere about our process of decorating the tree, again with an attempt to bring significance and meaning to the process.

We’d love to hear about your own ideas and experiences for savoring and appreciating the holidays.

Enjoy your gifts. Give to others. Be the gift yourself.
Happy Holidays!

We all have a natural default, a way of being that arises naturally for us when we are not making a concerted effort to be different. My Uncle Donald was “born neat”, I’m told. He always took meticulous care of his toys when he was young, putting each one away carefully in their original box or container when he was finished playing. He took care of his tools in a similar way when he got older. And still, at 84 years old, he is taking beautiful care of his home and yard. That is his natural default in regard to the tangible world of his possessions. To do anything different would feel strange and unnatural for him.

My default looks a bit different. Without a deliberate plan in mind, an exercise to work with, or a routine in place, I can quickly wreak havoc in my environment as I follow my ideas and impulses, leaving a trail of unfinished business behind. Though I wholeheartedly aspire to take care of my things with all of the love, care and attention they deserve, I can get distracted from this goal if I am not making a deliberate and conscious effort to remember it and follow through. I am tugged in many directions at any one time.

Can our defaults change over time? Absolutely. And thank goodness — some of our natural defaults can be dangerous for ourselves or others. Sometimes, through our own ongoing efforts, we can internalize the changes we’d like to make and new defaults will really and truly take root in our lives. But during times of stress, when we are exhausted, anxious and distracted by numerous demands, our original default settings can try to seize the opportunity to resume the controls again.

When we have slipped back to our old way of doing things, after lots of effort to change ourselves, it’s hard not to feel defeated. We should be able to do better. Why can’t we maintain our progress? Haven’t we learned anything? But Pema Chodron hit the nail right on the head when she pointed out that “things come together and they fall apart . . .” This is the natural way of the world. We ride the waves of our lives, both the crests and the troughs of the waves, as things come together for a while, and fall apart for a while.

Recognizing this pattern as natural can help us to find compassion for ourselves and others when we periodically flounder. And there’s something very important to be said for the humility that this floundering can stimulate. In fact, this humility can temper our high-powered drive to perfect, shape, mold, modify and stretch ourselves day and night, to erase any sign of flaws, weaknesses or limitations. It can help to temper our grandiose notions of who we might become and lead us, instead, to the reality of who we are, and how we are blessed, despite our shortcomings. What a radical notion it is to accept and relax into our humanity.

And the more we acknowledge the truth of our lives, the easier this is to do. That is why I aspire to be as transparent as I can. So I’d like to say that I lost my rhythm with some of my own routines, during a very busy period of time. I’m putting them back together now and though some are better than before the busy wave hit, others are more stubborn . . . but nothing’s wrong. It’s the rise and the fall. The coming together and the falling apart.

That’s the dance that we’re all part of for thirty thousand days or so – as our lives and jobs and relationships rise and fall and rise anew, as we reinvent the steps along the way. Our weaknesses and defaults are woven into the dance. We don’t need to become perfect or even special to be good dancers. We just need to become good partners with those who are dancing with us. We need to learn how to dance together, with all of our quirks and styles and syncopations, as we rise and fall, separately and together. That is the wild, heartbreaking, exquisite challenge we all face.

When relationships are new, everything seems possible.  The terrain that you cover together seems lush, inviting and easy to navigate.

But at some point, little grooves may begin to develop on your path, as the two of you spend time together, being who you are, with your own quirks, habits and norms.  At first these grooves are not a problem, but gradually you become less sure-footed, as they begin to trip you and to require  attention to navigate.  Little hills and barriers also form as you make your way together.  You start to know where these obstacles are, and anticipate them as you make your way around.  While sometimes you may hop over them, or gracefully sidestep them, other times you may kick at them or stamp your feet.  Eventually, as these territorial landmarks grow and deepen, you may become disillusioned and frustrated.  What happened to that beautiful, inviting plot of land that you set out on together?

Actually, we don’t need to be in an intimate relationship to know this kind of pattern — a similar process can occur on a macro level with life itself, as we make our way around.  If we are not careful, the potholes and barriers that develop, as we interact with life, can come to dominate our experience.  In an effort to address them, we may ruminate about them, analyze them, and talk about them.   Despite our best efforts, they may or may not budge.

But the more we focus on our struggles, the less we focus on the blessings and gifts that are also part of our lives.  The blessings and gifts are just as real as the problems, but they don’t necessarily carry a charge with them.   Though they line the paths of our life each day, they may not reach out and grab us by the throat.  If we allow our attention to be tugged and pulled by the emotional charge that accompanies our problems, our blessings and gifts may never really come into focus in our lives.  When this happens, our spirit suffers and our relationship with life becomes distorted and strained.

The ToDo Institute has developed a truly unique program that addresses this aspect of human nature.  Gratitude, Grace & a Month of Self-Reflection  is a powerful distance learning program that will provide structure and guidance for cultivating appreciation in our lives – not some vague and distant sense of appreciation, but a rich, specific, heartwarming connection with the supports and gifts that line our lives each day.  This program has the potential to transform your relationships and your experience of being alive.

The program begins on Thursday, November 10, 2011.    Please join us and a rich community of fellow-travelers, as we navigate the rich and complex paths of life together.

We are in the middle of our Natural Approach to Mental Wellness program, where we experiment with different ways of responding to and participating in life.  The exercise for one particular day was “no blocking”.   We were to say yes to life’s invitations as they came along (using good judgment, of course), rather than trying to orchestrate things based on our own preferences, interests, and tastes. That night Gregg and I went out to dinner at my new favorite restaurant, while our daughters were at a school dance. When we pulled into Middlebury, I was aware of being VERY hungry, and I was glad when we found a parking spot right near the restaurant. So I was not happy to hear Gregg say, “Let’s take Barley for a little walk before we go in. He’s been in the car for a while and would probably appreciate it.”

What I was thinking was, “Barley’s fine. He doesn’t need to go out again. He looks nice and comfortable just as he is.” But, no-blocker that I was, I said, “Sure.”

We walked Barley through the town and decided to go across a pedestrian bridge that provides a beautiful view of a waterfall, which is right in the center of town. The water was running hard and fast and I enjoyed the sight and feel of it. We then noticed a kayaker at the bottom of the falls. And then immediately spotted another up above, heading right for the falls!  Now although we are not talking about Niagara Falls here, we’ve never seen anyone go over those falls in all of the years we’ve lived here.  We stood with another couple on the bridge and watched, in amazement as yet another kayaker went over, making it look as easy as pie.

When we got to the end of the bridge, the adventurous trio were getting out with their boats. “We’re going to do it again!”, they told us. So Gregg and I found an even better position from which to watch and took in the show again.

Needless to say, if I had taken the reins, we would not have been witness to this exciting spectacle. We also got to hear more of the terrific live jazz trio at the restaurant because we came in a little later. It just worked out that way. Thanks, Gregg.

But sometimes things don’t work out in a way that we are pleased by. We say yes to life and we feel frustrated and inconvenienced as a result. There are no guarantees about the outcome or about our feelings.   But trying on intentional exercises can keep us nimble and awake.   This particular exercise of “no blocking” gives us practice at yielding to life.  Though the exercise is voluntary, we will all be faced with unavoidable situations which are not.  Practicing today can help us to bring more grace and wisdom to tomorrow’s challenge.

Marsha Linehan, Ph.D., recently made a rather startling personal announcement.   Linehan, the founder of  DBT, a radical and brilliant treatment for those with borderline personality disorder, announced at a public gathering that she had been diagnosed and treated as a borderline patient for many years in her past, beginning at the age of 17.

“So many people have begged me to come forward, and I just thought — well, I have to do this. I owe it to them. I cannot die a coward,” she said, as she revealed her deeply troubled past to her patients, colleagues and the public at large.

Linehan’s announcement helps to explain how she pioneered such a bold, innovative and effective treatment for “borderlines”, often considered to be the most challenging and resistant diagnostic group to treat.  Her own history of struggle informed the treatment she developed for this group, who are often chronically suicidal and self-destructive.   It lined the path, it filled the well, it fed the vision.

Many of us tend to view our challenges as obstacles to the life we were meant to live.   We would surely conduct ourselves with cheerfulness, poise, discipline and integrity if only life didn’t keep getting in the way!  This perspective may be our natural default mode, but that doesn’t mean we have to buy into it.  We can begin to adjust that setting with persistence and attention, introducing wisdom and courage into the equation.   How do we do this?  How do develop the ability to watch what we’re doing, rather than just tumbling blindly through our experience?

Ding! Ding! Ding!   Our complaints provide a big cue, whether they’re spoken out loud or just grumbling through our mind.   Our complaints alert us to an opportunity for growth, an area where we are resisting life as it is.  Developing  greater mindfulness, including the presence of mind to recognize these moments, is a lifelong practice that can open the door to fresh new possibilities.

Deliberate, mindful breathing can help us to step out of autopilot and to observe what’s actually happening.    It serves as a powerful reset, as we recognize the privilege, complexity and wonder of life.  It can pull us from our ideal vision of how it’s supposed to be, into our real living moment as it is.

According to Ilya Prigogine, a physicist who was awarded the Nobel Prize in chemistry, nothing grows without friction.  It is a fundamental property of nature that is essential to the growth of everything.   “It  is precisely this quality of fragility, the capacity for being shaken up, that is paradoxically the key to growth.”   If we were protected from challenge and adversity, our growth potential would be minimal.

Marsha Linehan was shaken up at the deepest level and she found a way to go beyond her challenges.  “I suppose it’s true that I developed a therapy that provides the things I needed for so many years and never got . . . I was in hell.   And I made a vow:  when I get out, I’m going to come back and get others out of here.”   

May we each discover the gifts that are inherent in our struggles.   May we look for the little sparkle from the center of our challenge that reflects the gifts that are contained within.

What’s that over there?   Ding! Ding! Ding!  I see something sparkling under my impatience with how slowly I write.  Taking a breath, I relax and smile.

I love being at On the Rise Bakery.  It’s a fun, delicious, healthy, funky, creative, community-minded bakery/restaurant, “serving the sweet and savory in Richmond, Vermont”, with a park and playground on the side and an organic garden right in front.  In fact, the path to the front door cuts right through the garden (or at least it did until Vermont’s recent floods swept the garden away).

Last month we happily found an excuse for stopping at On the Rise.  It was early on a Saturday morning when the four of us wandered in.  There weren’t too many people inside at that time, but one gentleman did get in line right behind us.  It took a while for all of us to place our orders.  “What are you going to get?  Do you want to share with me?  If I give you some of this, will you give me some of that?  What kind of scone is that?  Have you had these before?   On and on.   Throughout this process, the cashier was very relaxed and pleasant, even when my daughter changed her order at the last minute.  The cashier was also responsible for gathering together our food so she could not attend to the next customer right away.  A fellow in line behind us was waiting all this time, probably just to get a coffee and bagel.  He stood there with a few singles in his hand. We’ll call him Sam.

I felt bad for Sam and suddenly had the impulse to create a little friendly chit chat with him.  I might say something like “See, if you had just gotten out of bed one minute earlier you would have been long gone by now.”  Something like that.

So I walked over toward him but, for whatever reason, I didn’t say a word.  He was turned the other way – maybe I was waiting for him to notice me.  Or maybe I just felt shy.  I don’t know why but I do know that a moment later he looked at his watch, made a gesture of great frustration, and stormed out of the bakery.

I was stunned.  I wanted to run out after him and tell him about my plan.  We almost had a laugh together and shared a friendly moment.  We almost had the start of a conversation that might have been quite fun.  It’s unlikely he would have gone out in a huff if he was in the middle of a conversation.  He almost made it to that coffee, but I didn’t do my part.  Sam would have left with a coffee and a smile if I had just spoken up.  Instead, he left in a grump, with nothing to eat or drink.  He wasted his time with nothing to show for it.

Of course I am not responsible for Sam’s decision.  And waiting in line at the On the Rise Bakery is not the worst way to spend time.  But the point is that I knew he was really tired of waiting.   I could tell and I could so easily have helped him get across the finish line.  I had the intuition.  I had the impulse.  But I hesitated.  I missed my chance.  I just let the moment go by.  I’m sorry, Sam.

Margaret Mckenzie, in her article Just Do It, which appeared in our journal, Thirty Thousand Days, refers to a habit of mind known as “checking”.  She says, “It’s checking that often gets in the way of the spirit of “just do it”.  We have an idea – to give something, to teach something, to push our boundaries – then we hear the checking voice in the background.”  That voice tries to talk us out of our generous impulses.  It drowns out the voice of generosity and kindness.  I hope to let that voice go unheeded in the future.

We all send ripples out into the world by what we do and don’t do.   Who knows how the rest of Sam’s morning went?  Did he snap at his wife when he met up with her?  Criticize his co-worker?  Cut someone off in traffic?   Thank you for the lesson, Sam.   Next time I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.