This past weekend I was at a retreat, and in case you have never been the hallmarks are time away, good food and strange team building activities.  This retreat did not disappoint with lovely lakeside views all over.  The activity was simple as a group we were blind folded and placed all around a rope that was tied in a circle, we had to pick it up and then form a perfect square.  Sounds easy enough, but it wasn’t.  For my role I followed the leaders voice, I was told I was a corner in the structure, and I took it very seriously feeling with my two hands for the angle and directing people on each side of me to shuffle one way or the other by calling out what I felt my hands were an angle.  I was a serious corner maker. Then suddenly the group realized that we had only assigned three corners and that in fact with the number of people around the rope, I was no longer the right person for the corner job. Now I was just along the side, no real purpose but to ensure the rope was tight and straight. I felt the loss of my little activity role acutely.  And of course, got teased mercilessly for my disappointment.  I just got caught up in the experience and in making my corner 90 degrees and as perfect as a I could and then suddenly it was not my job, I had no input, I could not help, all I could do was hold my rope. Like lots of retreat team builders it seemed like a simple activity, but it offers deep insights.  I wanted to be making a difference in a corner.  I wanted to have a clear task.  I wanted to co-design and be counted on.  What a great reflection about the roles we have in our work, play and life.  There are some things that I like to just be part of, just hold the rope, just sit back and absorb.  Other roles I have I like to make a difference and have a voice and be a true participant.  Think about your roles and the roles of people around you, are they meeting your needs, are they filling your tank, are you engaged.  In all kinds of ways we need to seek out the opportunities that we find engaging, pick where your corner is and hold on. 

I had the pleasure of attending someone’s 70th birthday party last week. It was held at a cozy café in downtown Haliburton and lots of friends were there. This café has a fantastic ramp to its main store, but late in the planning it was realized that the after-hours party was going to take place in a separate room with a different entrance. That entrance had a three-inch step to enter. Panic ensued as the party had many on the guest list that needed a ramp to enter. The team thought about moving the event, changing the time, and started scrambling to solve the problem. The owner of the establishment weighed in and told the team not to worry- “we will just build you a ramp”. This could work as the step was a small one and within a few hours a wooden ramp was installed. I love how things can bubble up when a group identifies a problem and then works together to seek out a solution. And countless times I have gone into a planning discussion feeling a little hopeless and lost in trying to think of a solution and the people I join begin to talk and soon options start to form. Equally sometimes there are distances between our opinion and the opinions of others as we work to plan, or problem solve. From time to time, we too must take a step back from our scramble and reassess the gap and sometimes we too can “just build you a ramp”. Problems do need to be talked about to shake us out of the echo chamber of our brains, if we listen and use a ramp to bridge the divide, we can usually start to hear a solution or the start of one and then we all reach the party together.

This week we said goodbye to Gerald.  A man that lived in foster care and then institutions from the age of 2.  He moved to Haliburton to live with Community Living in 1986.  He was a man about town, he loved the police force, fire service, any work crew activity and a special affinity for riding the back of the garbage truck.  Community members invited him to take part in things and more than once when he lived independently and was missing he was riding along with the police, so easy to find once the agency contacted them. At his celebration there were so many stories describing his life connected to the fabric of  the community.  In one story he was attending to a tourist family that had a flat tire, with his badges and pens and official looking hat they were not sure what role he had, but had decided that he had an official capacity in the village.  When a community member stopped, they explained that Gerald was in fact just a villager with an interest, the family member asked about his pager.  The answer was “oh that doesn’t work”  at which time it went off and Gerald quickly moved on.  Minutes later being seen by the party on the side of the road riding along in the fire truck.  Gerald was connected and was able to do what he loved because people in Haliburton took the time to get to know what he loved and accepted his gifts.  How many of us are carrying pagers?  Carrying connections to different roles, carrying guilts and troubles, carrying obligations.  Do our pagers work?  Work for us?  Are these connections and roles a place to use our gifts, are our quirky talents and interests being valued, are we missed when we are not answering the call.  The legacy of Gerald’s Haliburton is that he added almost nothing in labour or problem solving, he was valued for his presence, his smile and what having him ride along added just in his presence.  Check your pager, check your to do list, who and what on there just makes you smile and just needs you along to make everyone more engaged and smiling.  Sure we all have a long bunch of numbers competing for our attention, but lets check in to make sure we have a few “ride alongs” in there where we can just be, just share, just smile, and where the to do list type people have trouble finding us.  These are the true connections, the true Gerald moments.

I went to a book club meeting this week, in this club we all take turns hosting, so found myself in someone’s comfortable living room with friends learning more about the author of the month.  We offer a virtual option for the meetings, an advantage that the pandemic created in that we all know how to use it now and can meet from Florida colleges or with the sniffles. In order to get the presenter on camera better the operator of the virtual platform suggested moving a table closer, this was one of the formidable, plank coffee tables that just looked like 400 pounds of four hefty square wooden legs.  Three of us jumped up to help try to move the heavy load. However, it was an optical illusion, some genius had installed castors well out of view underneath and the illusion was that the solid foundational pillars actually hovered a few millimeters off the floor.  A toddler could move this table it rolled with perfect ease. Another reminder that often things seem completely solid, un-moveable, too heavy, too hard, but in the trying and the first gentle nudge we can sometimes find that we were not seeing the challenge for what it was.  We were looking at it and quickly making a judgement.  The first thing to do in a big change is make one change, one first step and sometimes, not always, you find the invisible castors that make the next few steps roll smoothly into place and you can move on to the next 400-pound challenge. 

I went to my grandmother’s burial this week, a sort of sad occasion, however she was 93 years old, so had a full long life.  The minister present told a story about how he had been a placement student at her church and then came back some months later.  It was around Christmas, when she was still well enough to attend, and he called her by name when he saw her.  He relayed that she was genuinely surprised and delighted that this young student would remember her name.  I think we all know that we feel seen, cared about, noticed and appreciated when people remember our names and use them.  I hear these words a thousand times at conferences and provincial meetings – I am terrible with names.  Totally understandable with so many people in our lives, that is why the first critical piece of gear at many gatherings is a name tag.  There is something so special about hearing your own name.  While it is a lot to remember and take in, I think we need to try and work at people’s names, learning pronunciation,  memorizing names and faces.  A tall order let’s start where we are.  Do you know all the names of the people on your team at work?  Do you shorten or avoid some because they are difficult for you to pronounce?  Are you aware of people’s pronouns and using what they prefer?   There is a great hymn where the first line is “I have called you by your name” and it is about that feeling of belonging and being appreciated.  This is something we all have the power to do, every day.  Learn, remember, use people’s names and spread that delight all over the place.

My daughter recently went camping with her friends and they all heard a strange noise in the woods. One resourceful companion offered to try an app on his phone that identifies bird sounds to see whether the mystery could be solved. The app said – crow. All of the campers knew what a crow sounded like, so they quickly dismissed the app and decided that in addition to these strange clicks and buzzes it probably picked up a distant crow noise. 

Bothered by the unidentified noise and probably haunted by a few too many Finding Big Foot viewings, my daughter worked hard to figure out the noise.  She had the recording, she had YouTube and she had a need to know.  Finally, she solved the mystery, finding a You Tube video that had the exact same sounds that she and friends hear on that fateful day on Lake Simcoe. It was a crow. 

This answer, of course, makes me laugh and think about how often we do this. Something clearly tells us that the situation is one way, or that the solution is a clear path, or that you are not as valued in this friendship as you want to be. A million buzzes and clicks seem to confirm the answer as clear and accurate, but we dismiss it. For a million reasons we keep on working away on a solution we like better, we work away in a manner that is comfortable, with comfortable partners.  In well worn patterns and we just keep on unconsciously choosing to not see or not agree with the answer, telling ourselves that this is not a crow. 

I love this story because the group had even produced a plausible explanation, that the crow was somewhere, but not making the main noise that they wanted to identify.  As when we are faced with a clear learning about our work or relationships and we say to ourselves, yes that could work for someone else, but I have these special circumstances. It’s a difficult thing to just lean into an unwanted solution or answer and go with it, we are probably hard wired to question and keep to our patterns. But sometimes the answer is in fact the clear one in front of us, sometimes it is a crow. 

Crow on a Willow Branch by Los Angeles County Museum of Art is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

Last week a hydro one crew arrived in our yard and asked permission to cut a tree from our yard as it was too difficult for them to cut from the banked road beside us. We agreed and soon the cherry picker was parked in the corner of our yard and the crew were working away. I assume that for safety the team divides into two, one person going up in the basket and trimming the tree while the other stays on the ground, watching and being ready for, well I guess any unintended actions? 

In that corner of our yard, we have a tree swing, just a simple board with rope strung through over a branch. The second worker was standing beside the tree at first, but soon made his way to the swing as he watched and waited. Then, you guessed it, he began to swing back and forth. 

This sums it all up I think, we must work, we are forced into worrisome situations, we have to face challenge and heartache, but if we look around, there just might be a swing –  a friend who can talk it over, a stranger who is kind, an unexpected funny situation, a swing to just take a few minutes to swing on. 

I have learned that we find what we look for, that what we focus on can consume us. But if we take a step back from the problem or crisis sometimes we can see something completely different, something that we had not seen before, a new solution – or at least a little distraction – to shore us up for the next leg of the journey that we face on that particular day.  In days of difficult hurdles, rest on a swing, relax into a rhythm and play. 

Photo by Pille Kirsi on Pexels.com

I have said before that I have the privilege of a little cemetery where five generations of my family are buried. I plant flowers each year at two stones and then water regularly. There are about ten stones that have flower beds and when I am there I happily walk around with my quiet thoughts and water all the thirsty annuals. 

Last summer, I got caught up in busy days at work, some camping, some illness and did not get to the cemetery for three weeks. My two beds of flowers were dried out and dead. However, when I looked around the others were alive; they had been watered by people clearly not doing the same as me. I was so saddened that my habit and kind deed had not been returned, and I angrily vowed to only water my own flowers henceforth. 

Here’s the thing though, I know who I am. I know that going to cemetery and walking past those beds in an angry stomp does not serve me well. I know that I enjoy my quiet time walking around contemplating the true meaning of life, talking to my dad, just thinking. I know that all that would be tarnished if I was holding onto this grudge.  After all, what we do for others is not really something of which we keep track so that it can be reciprocated, the doing is the pay off, the peace and the satisfaction it offers to be resolved in the knowledge of who you are, is far more reliable and rewarding than anything others could offer. 

At the end of the day, we all determine our worth, our nature, our way of showing up. Others can make opinions about us that are correct or negative or neutral, it really is not our business and there is little we can do to control the opinions and actions of others. So that just leaves our own selves – we can water, we can fail to  water, we decide. Resist the urge to leave your watering can in the hands of others they can disappoint. Choose who you are and sprinkle that fantasticness all over the place. 

Photo by Felix Mittermeier on Pexels.com

I attended a session this week on leadership and resilience, and the facilitator offered that while people can experience success on their own, greatness will always be enhanced when we have a network. A place we can drop our tricky problems and have others look them over what we missed. A place we can just listen to the plans and schemes of the group and glean tidbits that make sense for us.  A group with which you feel so that you can just relax and openly talk about things that you fear you have no idea what to do about or if you are even the right person to do it.  Your network is made up of your people, people you know may challenge you but ultimately want you to succeed and do better.  Your networks can include co-workers, friends and family. 

In the same session, we were asked to talk about areas in which we needed to improve, and then create our answers in Play-Doh – an interesting activity crafted by the facilitator.  One participant created a yield sign.  She explained that she often wants to barrel ahead and fix, advise, guide and lead in every situation. So, for her, the yield sign means, slow down, look, listen, engage and merge into what is needed and desired in the interaction. 

I love that analogy. Merging can be about speeding up, waiting, slowing down. (In fact, my daughter will drive up to 10 km out of her way to avoid merging as she gets so nervous deciding what to do.)  Being in a group can mean yielding, listening and challenging, but in the end we are heading in the same direction.  

This past February was my son’s last reading week as he was set to graduate, I took a day off just to spend with him. He offered that I choose the adventure, but then realized my choice would be antique markets and cemeteries, so he thought again.

It’s true, I do like cemeteries. I like history and family trees, and cemeteries have a lot to offer. Every now and then Google pictures makes a collage for me with a wonderful title like July day or summer fun, and inevitably there will be some shots of flowers, family, pets, and a few tombstones.

I always laugh at the mash up of things that I photograph. Right in the middle of captured joyful moments are these stone markers of lives lived. Tombstones do reflect that a life ended, but also mark where a person who lived on this earth for a period of time now rests – a person who had dreams and joys and experienced storms of different kinds.

I guess while I do not plan to frame any of these masterpieces the collages do reflect how I spent some time. It’s a tricky thing balancing living with the end of life, balancing joy with sorrow, knowing that we each need to truly live a full life and to completely live with an understanding of all the colours of lives. There are a lot of tombstones in our lives, the ends of things, the paths not taken, the people lost, the job changes, the relationships changed or ended. At the end of all that there is this mix, flowers of joy, people that made the sunset brighter and clouds to help us know that while we live, we face it all.

Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com