A small tweak can create a big shift. It’s hard to remember this when dealing with a problem that seems huge and unwieldy. When we feel oppressed by the weight of a growing challenge, we may try to muster the strength to tackle it head on, to counter the momentum of the problem with an equal amount of force . . . but we may never be quite up to that. That’s when we feel helpless and vulnerable.

So let’s think about how we can disrupt this downward spiral right here and now, with a minimum of force and a light touch. Let’s engage the mindful use of attention and behavior to tweak a big shift in our lives and our relationships.

We all know how it goes –a problem develops in a relationship and takes on a life of its own. The more we think about it, talk about it and focus on it, the more it grows, until it dominates the relationship, reducing it to one big unsolvable problem.

As the problem(s) take up more space, other things are overshadowed, overlooked and devalued. Even forgotten. Of course we need to problem solve and address problems from time to time, but if we let them saturate the relationship, we’re in trouble. While some problems can certainly be solved, other problems will not be — irreconcilable differences exist in virtually all relationships in some form.

The point is that problems aren’t any more real than blessings — they just come with more of a charge which we find hard to resist.

It’s our job to be aware of this tendency and to shift our attention in a mindful and deliberate way to what is going right and how we are being supported. This simple and gentle practice can go far toward turning a troubled relationship around, even a relationship with challenging problems.

The issue of attention is key in relationships, as Jim Roberts, author of Deliberate Love, explains. “I believe that where there is a problem in a relationship it is always a problem of attention and that virtually any problem can be resolved with a redirection of attention.”

Every year we experiment with practices such as this in our Renewing your Relationship distance learning program. We can learn new ways of being together. Big shifts are possible from small tweaks day by day. May we each have the presence of mind to recognize the opportunities as they arise and to respond with heart in the moment.

“You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.”
– Frederick Buechner

A healthy 19-year old man from a nearby town died unexpectedly a few days ago after an accident while hiking in the woods. I didn’t know this young man (let’s call him Brian) or his family, but his death has sent ripples through my life. For many of the high school students here, this tragedy represents their first personal experience with death and the lesson is shocking. We are all temporary. Life is delicate. Anything can happen.

So we are all in the same boat, so to speak. None of us knows who will wake up tomorrow and who won’t. What are we to do and how are we to live, given the tenuous nature of our lives and the lives of our loved ones?

Death opens our hearts and helps us to remember to be kind. At least it can. That is why we use the name “Thirty Thousand Days” for this blog and for our quarterly publication. Not to be morbid or preoccupied with death, but to be joyful and appreciative of every day we are given.

So in honor of Brian, I will offer 19 gestures of kindness to the world — one for each year of his life. Whose death, or recent hardship, has touched your life? I invite you to join me in making symbolic but meaningful gestures of love and kindness, in the face of death and in the shadow of tragedy.

After my cousin was killed in the World Trade Center, his family channeled their sorrow and loss into a positive funnel of support for others by creating the Let Us Do Good Foundation. We need to respond to the tragedies that touch us with as much heart as we can muster. Then they were not for naught – something positive grew that may not have grown otherwise.

Buechner’s words offer some comfort and guidance for all of us:

“When you remember me, it means you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.”

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.

I’ve just finished conducting a nine day residential training in Japanese Psychology at the ToDo Institute in Vermont. During portions of the training we put up a large piece of flip chart paper in order to create a Thank You – Sorry board. The image you see in front of you is an example of such a board after it’s been filled in. The process is really very simple. The top half of the board is reserved for notes of thanks from one person to another. The bottom half of the board is reserved for notes of apology. Throughout the day, people can walk up to the board and grab a marker and scribble a short note, either thanking someone or apologizing to them. As the board gets filled in, it becomes a record of some of the acts of kindness that have taken place that day.

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.

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.