On Mindsets: Achievement vs. Contentment?

couplesmileI’m mulling over some things.

I’m beginning to wonder if those of us with a large degree of ambition, or drive, or even longing have a distinct disadvantage…

Are the skills and traits helpful for achievement also a tripwire discharging unabated discontentment?

Achievement, of course, is not negative. Nor is the desire to achieve, in itself…but I wonder about the byproducts. I wonder about the trappings or downsides.

Is the “content person” someone who tends to be less ambitious and is therefore more satisfied at a core level?

Or, could the experience of a more lasting satisfaction also be reached through a pruning process of maturation and holding the two in a difficult, but possible, creative tension?

How do you see it? I’m throwing it out their and hoping for extra insight.

I’ve been thinking about perspective and mindset. The next post will followup with a look into a framework for mitigating or ameliorating the issue. I created a visual to serve as a guide for the next post. You won’t want to miss it.

It, like me, is a work-in-process, not a final solution.

What about you?

Want to weigh in?

• Given that discontentment isn’t necessarily negative: Are you more content or discontent, in general?

• Do you sense that it’s connected with your ability or desire to achieve? (Why or why not?)

Visit soon. It’ll be a treat!

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Thanks for visiting, today! See you soon.

-Lisa

Everything…but connection

chianlink

My friend Kayla visited her parents’ church over her summer break for 10 weeks or so.

They were attending this suburban church with a large attendance each Sunday morning and I thought she’d really enjoy the change. Maybe she would be disappointed to come back to her normal, small-town life.

When I asked her about it, she said, “I should have loved it. The music was amazing; the people friendly. They had lots of youth programs and small groups going, and the pastor chose meaningful things to teach. I should miss it, but I don’t.

This surprised me, so I asked her why she thought this was.

She said something so simple that it gave me a punch of profundity.

“You don’t miss something you don’t feel connected to.”

I started to wonder about the people I’ve lost through death, circumstances, or diverging paths.

Some I missed and some I rarely thought of. Those I did not miss much weren’t really all too different (in general) from the ones I did miss. It didn’t directly reflect the quality of person they were or if we had a lot in common. Like Kayla pointed out, I missed the ones I felt connected with and to. Reflecting on that, the ones that had stronger bonds created more longing or loss in the void of their absence.

That may seem pretty obvious, but the critical gap comes in when we miss why we are connected and what it means to be available and vulnerable on a regular basis with others you can trust. Apart from that, you won’t miss much.

I sense something has been lost in many communities of faith and in many other places because we are so much more amused by our distractions than we are connected in deep ways.

Human connection is never really about measurable stats. We already realize this. It’s about investment in others, sure,

but it’s also about the reciprocity of that investment. It’s always a two-way street.

Some people are wonderful and you invest and hope for a harvest–of some sort–where you both benefit, and you assume they do too, and then it doesn’t happen. The fruition doesn’t manifest or withers on the vine. Maybe the soil was bad, maybe a storm came or drought, or pestilence, maybe something else thwarted success. Sometimes it’s obvious and other times you just sense something is wrong that is hard to make right again. Sometimes you just need to move on and other times, you have to try again in a new season with different seed.

That happens in faith communities and in interpersonal relationships. It happens in business and in extended family life.

If the connection is lacking you won’t be missed. And you won’t miss them. It’s likely that you will feel disappointed about that.

We overlook the idea and process of true connection even as we want it the most.

 

Is there some thing or someone you’d like to feel more connected with?

Oh,
3 more things.

1. I will be posting a “spiritual-themed” topic about once per week. The other times I will concentrate on other ideas depending on what strikes me and will often concentrate on topics related to helping you create and communicate better.

2. I really am excited to see what this year brings and I’m really happy you came today.

3. Check the top right sidebar to get the next post sent to you through Feedburner!

 

The humor of Self-motivation

There are all kinds of reasons for doing things.

In the end, I wonder if it comes down to just two: avoiding fear & pain or making ourselves feel better, which is sort of the same thing.

I loved this photo (below) for it’s weirdness.

What’s more exciting than running on to the field when a soccer match is in progress? Taking a picture of yourself doing it…but wait…

I wonder…would this girl have run onto the football pitch in the middle of this match if she had left her mobile phone at home?

Would the notoriety feel real if it could not be captured on her camera phone?

Is her fear “not mattering”?
Or maybe the motivation was to get some quick attention on Facebook, pure and simple.

Perhaps she was self and selfie motivated. Could it be crazy fun, or just crazy?

Screen Shot 2013-08-24 at 4.32.23 PM

 

Of course we can only speculate.
In speculating alone, we will only distract ourselves from our fears. And those fears are the ones we live with each day. They are the ones that matter. So let’s transition…

As you prepare yourself for the new year, consider your motivations and your fears. What are they? Jot the big ones down. Be brave.

They will last the whole year long, likely, but you can move toward mastering them, yes? That said, you probably won’t be able to if you take a lot of selfies. It seems there’s something of a dead end in that preoccupation.

Did this photo make you laugh or cringe?

If yes, share to say you care. :)

HAPPY 2014!

Something about a Labyrinth and Surprises

jclab

This time the weather was the coldest I’ve ever experienced in Wernersville. Until now, my times of retreat at the Spiritual Retreat Center were during Spring or Summer.

Stripped of leaves, color, and warm weather, the place seems monochromatic outdoors, but is still restful and precious to me. There are many prayer room options, a beautiful chapel, plus rooms for things like creating art, music, reading, or for meeting with others. Each place seems to wait for your arrival. Anyone can go there for the day without notice. I love that about it. That’s true hospitality. You are always received and welcome. You don’t need to be Catholic either. God is there in a special way and it’s a sacred place created solely for the purpose of divine communion and renewal. To me, that sounds just like Heaven.

Unless you get run over by a jet-powered lawn mower, but I’ll get to that in a minute.

The Center has recently added a prayer labyrinth (shown above). Many people aren’t familiar with labyrinths–their purpose or their gifts. They create the opportunity for reflection and spiritual awareness. Some (Evangelical) Christians bristle at the copious statues, candles, prayer mazes, and other unfamiliarities about a Catholic environment. I suppose I’m post-Evangelical: the richness of the Christian history and the solidifying sense of the sacred draws me toward the transcendent in a place like this. Every time in an unexpected way.

That’s what happens when you go there. You find God. You find God at the center. The center of you…in your core where he’s always been, because he’s everywhere-present and boundless in love. He’s been whispering things of love to you and smiling but you thought it was just bad pizza leftovers or something you made up to make yourself feel better.

Life is like a puzzle. A labyrinth is a puzzle. It’s a tool too. You can study a labyrinth before you walk the path through it, but while you are walking through studying it can make it far more confusing. Usually, you stop being stupid and cease trying to decipher the pattern precisely and just follow it like a child might do. This way, a labyrinth can be a lovely stilling and spiritual experience, not because of its own woo woo mystical powers (it doesn’t have that), but because it invites a traveller to concentrate and focus–to place her steps carefully. Most importantly, it forces one to slow down.

We don’t realize how fast our thoughts buzz until we get these sorts of opportunities to be careful. If you walk a labyrinth things mentally wind down and simplify to, “Stay on the path. Follow this narrow way. Pay attention.” Some enjoy walking very slowly and praying as their heart grows hushed.

Searching for the puzzle
I saw a photo of this newly constructed prayer walk inside the Center and I started to search for it outside. It was actually in plain sight but I hadn’t been looking for it, so I didn’t see it. (In case you haven’t figured it out by now, this true story doubles as an allegory.)

When I spotted it, a man driving a zero turn radius lawn mower was zipping and roaring around it, back and forth; expertly, but fast enough for me to wonder about his judgement. Crisp leaves shot into the air and the wind whipped them into little showers of bullets.

“That won’t work,” I said. “What am I suppose do? Have a peaceful prayer time as Zippy here shoots me with leaves and the mower engine drives me to distraction?” I crossed past the paved puzzle a small stretch to a gazebo with park benches set in a circle.

It was still noisy there, but the mower sounded duller. I would wait him out. I tried to settle my mind. Maybe I could do some warm-up praying. No. My thoughts swam. “Who’s Zippy now?” I thought.

Instead of waiting, I went on a short walk in the wood nearby over a little ridge. The path looked to have been crudely bulldozed recently and massive tree parts and 4 inch thick vines were crammed in piles. It was other-worldly–so many thickets covering whole sections like umbrellas, even though most of their foliage was missing. Surreal yellow leaves on the ground seemed day-glow bright. I felt like a zombie putting one foot in front of the other as I made my way around the wet earth and wild terrain. The humming mower served as a beacon to orient me. It was comforting and ironic.

Then a church bell snapped me back. It chimed 11, and I recalled how church bells were auditory calls to prayer and attention. It felt like a call to go home…to something. I immediately wanted to get my bag from the gazebo and look at the church more carefully in a peaceful and maybe prayerful environment. I managed a shortcut straight up a bank after a brief bout with prickly plants. I got my things and trekked toward the church. When I got there, guess who was on the grounds too? Zippy, or some other diligent lawn guardian, was tooling around the church grounds. The noise was worse now because it was bouncing off the stone structure and echoing off the parking lot asphalt.

I decided to double back and sit on a bench near a garden path that featured the Stations of the Cross. (If you’re wondering about the Stations of the Cross, visit again soon, because I’ll be detailing that in a future post.) I munched on some snacks, journaled a few things, prayed some (kinda-sorta), and enjoyed a few sunbeams that momentarily bested the clouds. It felt nice to be there, but, then I started to feel really cold. My nose had a ice cube quality and the sun had ditched me.

I headed toward the large main building. An ancient woman was being rolled toward the main entrance in a wheelchair. Rather than getting in their way, I decided to walk through the covered colonnade and flank out to the door on the right. I passed the prayer garden on my left. It was filled with statues, fountains, and newly manicured hedges and remembered how pretty it had been in full bloom that Spring. It was much warmer then too. I was getting colder by the second. But, then I got to the door–relief.

Except that it was locked. The metal handle sent a shiver to my backbone straight through my arm. But, “No matter,” I said to myself. I’ll just continue around the building and try the next door just around the corner. There are probably no fewer than 25 exit doors to the place. I’ve exited a number of them and try to find a new one to some surprise new part of the grounds whenever possible. It’s all part of the fun.

No. Locked too. Things were getting interesting.

It turns out that there’s just one way into the place. There are plenty of ways to exit outdoors, but the main entrance is referenced on each locked door. I came to this realization by the 5th door. I’m not sure if the cold was my dulling my mind or if I was too distracted laughing to myself. I had just realized I was literally following a footpath around the structure. It wasn’t just  a path but a puzzle. I could have turned back and saved myself a lengthy walk, but I thought, “Oh! Okay God, this is the labyrinth you wanted me to take.”

Then out loud I said, “Stop being so funny.” At that exact moment, a black helicopter hummed overhead and I briefly thought the things were going to end in waterboarding or an unpleasant government website experience and arbitrary fees. Maybe, I was on the psycho path. I pushed my icy hands into my coat pockets, stopped trying to open locked doors, and made my way counter-clockwise to the main entrance–the long way around. This was probably the intended journey in the first place so I might learn something. I was starting to pay attention. Finally.

No, it wasn’t the labyrinth I set out to do. It wasn’t the one I picked to walk or the one studied as I walked by with Zippy swinging his mower wildly nearby, but eventually it would get me inside if I kept going around and circled the place.

As I got most of the way around the complex I could smell lunch cooking from the kitchen. “The kitchen help probably don’t have to go through the main entrance,” I thought. (It was my first useful notion all day.)

Sure enough: I spotted an inconspicuous point of entry, sheltered with an overhang and a coffee can full of sand and cigarette butts sitting outside the door. Maybe it would be open. It was. As I pull the door a blast of warmness greeted me and behind it the smell of comfort food. I was back. I had almost gone full circle, but I had an insiders’ access point to put things to rights.

Just before I left the place for home I took my friend–who had carpooled with me there that morning–to see the new prayer puzzle up close. I walked through slowly but it wasn’t prayerfully. The symbolism had already done its job. I was just canvasing the design and saying my goodbyes. I got to the center of the circle and I knew I was ready to leave for home.

I did a little spin with my arms out because I think if it was a movie that’s what would have happened right at the point, and then I stepped straight through the center to get back out.

The surprise is that you don’t get to ever really pick your own labyrinth. It is picked for you. You can decide how to walk it and how meaningful it will be. You can be frustrated by it and worry about the turns or you can slow down, put one foot after the other, and get to the center. Then you’ll be home.

# # #

 

The #1 Vomit-Inducing “Selfie”

A “selfie” is a photo taken of one’s self, by one’s self. It’s the shortened word for “self-portrait”.

Websters Dictionaries made this word the Word of the Year in 2013.

Capturing the occasional “selfie” is no big deal…but  the #1 thing I hate about smart phones is epitomized in this screen shot of the short film entitled “I Forgot My Phone”:

selfie

It’s < The kissing or wedding proposal “Selfie” > (ECK! skin crawling.)

This reaction could also be because I’m not in my twenties.

And I wonder…does this make me rustic and uncultured? 

See the whole short film here featuring Charlene deGuzman. It’s a great 2 minute piece of critique that is so accurate that it hardly fits into the category of satirical exaggeration, and maybe that was the point.

(Really the only unrealistic part is the guy actually making a phone call. I’m not sure that happens too much at all…unless someone is driving, of course. 4-6 p.m. and 8-10 a.m. I think I see a few people making phone calls behind the wheel. Texting has overshadowed realtime voice-to-voice interaction, like email did in the 1990s.)

The piece also emphasizes, by omission, the potential benefits of “forgetting” your mobile phone in order to experience life more fully. See what you think of it.

To be clear, I’m guilty of overusing my phone. Time to update my Rule of Life that includes boundaries here.

 

Direct video link: http://gawker.com/short-film-about-smartphone-overuse-is-smart-poignant-1189811144

So what do you think about the topic?

And Are you pro “selfie”, anti, or somewhere in between. I’m curious. Let me know!