Tunnels of Transition

It has occurred to me that life transition is like a tunnel. It can be a dark place, and when you first step into it, what is behind you is much easier to see than what lies ahead. Keep moving.

As you move forward, it actually gets darker. Let your eyes adjust, though and you will see things you couldn’t make out before. You will likely find it’s not nearly as scary as you thought it was. Keep moving.

As you move through the tunnel the light coming from the other end begins to grow and is actually now clearer and easier to make out than the light behind you. Keep moving.

As you emerge into the light you find yourself in new surroundings beholding things you couldn’t possibly have seen from the other side. You find yourself once again standing in the full light of day, with the sun warming your face, able to move in any direction you please.

The tunnel of transition can at once be thrilling and terrifying but it is in fact the ONLY way to arrive at your intended destination. Don’t fear it; embrace it. As you take that first step into the darkness you can do so with the knowledge that no matter how long this tunnel may be, and no matter what snakes or spiders may be waiting in the darkness, you will emerge on the other side to a bright new day…if you don’t stall in the tunnel. So goes the journey. Keep moving.

Crossing Bridges

So there I was, bike over body, lying in the rocky and mercifully dry creek bed. How I got there is a bit embarrassing, but for the benefit of all I will share.

I was doing a little mountain bike trail riding with some friends last Saturday. An innocent enough venture for someone who has ridden a bike as much as I have. But as I approached the little wooden bridge, I hesitated, lost my momentum, and, focusing on the side that I did NOT want to ride off of, proceeded to do exactly that! My friends heard a grunt of sorts and turned around to see a bike tire and a foot rising up from the gully below!

Do I just like to tell self-deprecating stories? No, not really. It was sometime afterward as I was nursing some very minor injuries that the teachable moment struck me and the lessons began to unfold.

1) Momentum lost through hesitation can be nearly impossible to recover.

As I rounded the curve in the trail that led to the bridge, I slowed...let's be honest. I stopped. I stopped and thought about it. I looked at the slight downward angle of the trail, the unevenness at the edge of the bridge, the obstacles on either side, the rocks, the fallen tree - WHAT IF I FALL OF THE BRIDGE!!?? When I tried to roll forward from my stand still, I lacked sufficient momentum to roll smoothly over the bridge and up the other side of the ravine. Momentum is an extremely valuable commodity. Without it, you may get the same job done, but you'll have to work twice as hard. Had I just kept riding, this story would never have happened.

2) Fear will defeat you every time.

When you focus on your obstacles they ALWAYS seem bigger than they truly are. Fear saps your confidence and causes you to perform at a level well below your abilities. Fear keeps your attention fixed on the problem, rather than the solution. Fear tells you the thing you don't want to happen will. It is the exact opposite of faith. You cannot give fear a dwelling place in your soul and expect to make progress.

3) We will move toward whatever we focus on.

As I moved slowly and cautiously forward I did exactly what I knew NOT to do. Instead of looking toward my desired destination, I focused on the thing I hoped to avoid, thus propelling myself in that very direction. Your life will move in the direction of your most dominant thought. If you have a dream, a goal, a vision - a place you hope to be - begin to fix your focus on that instead of all the reasons it can't be done. With your gaze fixed, you will see that dream more and more clearly with each passing day, week, month...just watch.

If you will learn from my mistakes, I pray that you will find yourself crossing new bridges to exciting places rather than riding off the edges of them. Trust me, it's much more fun!

Lessons from my Mother

So as my mother lay sedated on a ventilator, I am continuously struck with lessons to be learned from her tragic life. What you must understand is that my mom is a very sick woman. She has an infection that is literally eating away at her flesh, she has stage 3 breast cancer, a severe kidney infection, possibly diabetes, and either an infection or cancer in her lung. (For the sake of all, I am leaving out the worst of the details. She's in very bad shape.) But her sickness started long before her body began to give way. This is a woman who has isolated herself for many years from family and friends refusing to let anyone in - literally. When she finally called 911 just a little over a week ago it was only because the pain had gotten so severe that she could no longer bear it. And while this may be more personal information than you hoped to read in a blog, I hope you will give me a little leeway. You don't have to read it, but I need to write it...

Lesson #1 - When we don't respond to pain, it doesn't go away; it gets worse.

When I saw my mother in the ER that night I tried to hide the shock I was almost certain was showing on my face. Her face and neck were terribly swollen and red. That combined with the other ailments she'd been self-treating were causing her to take 4 Aleve every 2 hours. This fact still boggles my mind, and yet I see people do the same thing in their lives all the time. Maybe not physically, but in relationships, jobs, and other situations, we all know somebody that we have watched and thought, "when is it going to be enough?"

When we chose to isolate ourselves we lose our frame of reference and become self-deceived. You have no bearing on reality and so all things become relative. Without healthy relationships and a willingness to be examined, we will continue on our course of destruction as we adjust to accomodate the increasing levels of pain.

Pain is a signal that something needs to change. It shouldn't be ignored. The doctor said that if my mother had come in a year ago things would be much different. Don't allow a fear of change to keep you from addressing underlying issues. Get to the root of it and stop the source of the pain. You'll be glad you did.