Kerry Hamilton, CPCC

Seeing Yourself

A friend sent me an interesting weblink using image comparisons to develop a typing profile.  You choose among photos as you answer questions, and the 'system' delivers back a visual summary.

I found this a way to remember some of the things I love.  And at the same time it made me realize how much the visual world, the natural world means to me and my life.  So, that's what I discovered.  Take the test and discover for yourself.  (Try cutting and pasting the url below into your browser if clicking doesn't work).

Http://DNA.imagini.net/friends 

21 Days

21 Days to a new habit.  That's all it takes.  At least this is common wisdom.  And coach's wisdom, too.

Several weeks ago I made a decision to explore establishing a new pattern.  The decision came as a result of realizing that I was doing something good for me, but only on the days that I felt I really needed it.

When I awoke on days that were busy, packed, involved a lot of people, and that involved doing new things (days I love by the way), I would realize that starting the day 'right' was important, so I would meditate for twenty minutes.  It was the realization that I was only making meditation a priority on the days that 'I needed it' that led me to realize I was thinking about this all wrong.

What if I were to meditate every day?  Even those days that were relatively easier.  Would this practice add to the quality of all of my days?

I do notice an appreciable difference on the days I meditate.  I am more focused, lighter somehow.  And I experience this no matter what the quality of the meditation.   What I mean by this is that some days I am deeply focused in meditation, others it seems that all I do is notice I am thinking about something and then pulling myself back to my breath.  The quality of the meditation on these days is clearly less focused, and scattered.  And yet, I notice that the quality of the day that follows a meditation, whether focused or scattered, is a high quality day.  It seems that the very act of taking the time to sit and breathe is what is making the difference. No surprise here, really.  This is what most of the experts on meditation will say -- the importance is the sitting, not 'doing it right', whatever that is.

So, on June 23rd, I began 21 days of meditating in the morning.  For twenty minutes.  I have been using Jon Kabat-Zinn's Series 3 Guided Mindfulness Meditation.  Kabat-Zinn has a soothing voice, and leaves plenty of space between speaking, and gently pulls you back in when you wander.

What is interesting is that the nine days that I have been doing this seem much longer than nine days.  On my seventh day, I thought 'Wow, it is only a week.  No wonder 21 days makes a habit.  It seems like a habit already."

I am using an interesting structure for myself too, a reminder to do this everyday.  It is a green Roche Brothers rubber band (it came from my blueberry container).  I am wearing it on my left wrist, and I wrote the date '23' on it.  If I should miss a day in my 21 days, I will move the rubber band to my right hand, cross out the '23', write in the new date, and begin my 21 days all over again.  I don't think I will miss though.  The green rubber band is a great reminder.  And really, the daily benefit is the best reminder.

Others in the family are getting into the act too, at least the four-legged ones.  I opened my eyes at the end of my meditation the other day to see both cats and the dog surrounding me.  Animals are very affected by energy, and I take it as a good sign that they wanted to be near.

What is important about this story to me is this.  I have known about the benefits of meditation for years, decades really.  And I sometimes meditated.  Now, I am committing to daily meditation (oh, even putting this on the page gets me my heart beat a little faster, interesting)!

I am committing to do this every day, and to notice what is different and better about the quality of those days.

Walking my talk.  Putting my money where my mouth is.  And all those great aphorisms.

It feels good.  I am smiling right now.  Intending to spend the day reaping the benefit of a short, yet powerful daily twenty minutes. 

On Apology

I am reading a very wonderful book by Aaron Lazare, MD called On Apology.  I am not sure where I heard about this book, but as soon as I saw the title, my curiosity was peaked.  Unlike many other books I've read about, this one didn't end up on the Someday Reading List.  I ordered this book right away.

Dr. Lazare very eloquently takes the reader through the steps of an effective apology.  I don't recall ever being taught this -- certainly not in so effective a way.

His chapter titles captured my imagination right away.

Why People Apologize

Why People Do Not Apologize

How Apologies Heal

Apology and Forgiveness

Delayed Apologies

Apology doesn't come easily to many of us.  It certainly doesn't come easily to me.  And I know that if I think I owe an apology, even if I don't know why, it is likely to bother me, even if only a little, even if only in the background. 

Dr. Lazare talks about steps to an effective apology.

1.  Acknowledging the offense.

2.  Accepting responsibility for the offense.

3.  Recognizing the violation of the social contract and the harm.

4.  Showing remorse, humility and sincerity.

5.  Offering explanations for the act.

6.  Offering reparations.

If following these steps, the wronged person and the relationship can be restored.  The wronged individual or group feels respected again, feels safe, experiences restitution, is back in meaningful dialogue again with the offender. The breach can be healed.

So, an example.  I borrow a friend's camera to take some pictures of a family event.  I accidently knock it off the kitchen table, and I can't get it to work properly.  My friend is upset.  It was her favorite camera.

The ineffective apology:  "If I broke you camera I am sorry, but I had a lot on my mind and I didn't see it. You have another camera, I know, so you'll be able to use that one.  I'll pay you to fix it, if you want me to,"  Then I wait for my friends move.

The effective apology.  "I broke your camera.  It was very careless of me to leave it in a place where it could be knocked over.  You lent me something that is very valuable and I didn't take care of it.   I am sorry.  I would like to get the camera fixed for you.  What is your preference for who repairs the camera.  I will take it there, and have it fixed as soon as possible."

Well, perhaps a little weighty, but you get the idea.  So often when we apologize our heart is just not in it.  And as a result, we avoid taking full responsibility, we try to avoid embarassment.  And the apology does just the opposite of what we intended.  An ineffective apology often makes the offended person even angrier.

Next time you owe an apology, think through these steps above.  It feels good to be forthright, and clear about responsibility.

So, okay, I didn't break my friend's camera.  But I have found myself in the position of apologizing (more than once) since I started this book, and I have to say, I am finding that I am getting a little better at it, bit by bit.

Fear

Eleanor Roosevelt was quoted as saying, "Do one thing every day that scares you."

I have been living with this quote for about a month, often following this unusual advice, and experiencing various emotions.

Discomfort

Surprise

Embarassment

Elation

...to name a few.

Sometimes big and sometimes small, these scary things are teaching me something.  Rarely is the discomfort of the magnitude that I anticipate.  Sometimes, I anticipate discomfort, and the experience is actually very different and positive. Often, I am surprised, elated.  Hmmm.

Always, the learning is important.

If this appeals to you, if you are curious, try doing one thing each day that scares you.  And notice what you experience.

Oh...and thanks, Eleanor.  A wonderful challenge from a wise and somewhat surprising source!

Memorial Day

I began to write this last Monday, Memorial Day, May 25, 2008.

I had recently found a small article among the family papers.  I am not sure how I missed this before, or why I had forgotten about it, so that it seemed I didn't know the information that was contained in it at all.  Perhaps, I have now found it at a time that I am ready to read and to begin to comprehend it.

It is a piece in the puzzle of my family history.  One, as I have mentioned, that I am paying particular attention to these days.

I'll quote the article here.  I am not sure what paper to attribute it to (although my bet is that it was published in the Bergen Record, Bergen County, New Jersey), It was published in 1945.

"In Cited Battalion

Private Adam Mroz of 30 Riverside Place, Garfield, rifleman, and Pfc. Osborne E. Edwards of 824 Main Street, Hackensack, clerk, are members of the 894th Tank Destroyer Battalion, recently awarded the Croix de Guerre avec Etoile de Vermeil in recognition of support given French troops fighting on the Fifth Army Italian front, acording to a dispatch from the front today.

The 894th supported the French Expeditionary Corps with the Fifth Army in capture of Poggioonsi, San Gimignano, Castalfiorentino, and Siena.  Tank Destroyer outfits are largely credited with having saved the medieval center of culture, Siena, from destruction, according to the dispatch."

Private First Class Osborne (P) Edwards was my father.  They got his middle initial wrong in the article quoted above.  Also, according to his discharge papers, which one needs to apply for in order for the bronze plaque to be installed at the cemetery, the Battalion was the 804th.  Also, according to those same discharge papers, Ozzie was a rifleman.  I am not sure what is correct here, nor am I sure that the details matter all that much.

I suspect that my mother, who was married to my father by then, read about this in the newspaper.  I doubt she knew about it in advance, communications being what they were then. 

My father, for his part, never talked much about his service in World War II.  We found the medal mentioned above (along with a few other things) in a metal tin in his dresser after he passed away three Octobers ago.  We (my sister, brother and I) were all pretty surprised about the medal.  None of us remembered any mention of it by my father.  That wasn't unusual, though.  He was a modest man.  He didn't talk about himself very much at all. 

I have been to Siena and San Gimignano.  Beautiful places.  Siena may be my favorite of the small Italian towns that I have seen so far.  I remember a particularly idyllic hour spent with my husband and friends at a cafe on the piazza of Sienna.  I remember thinking that life was absolutely perfect in those moments.  If I breathe deeply, I am able to recapture it briefly.  Protected from the sun by large umbrellas, the breeze gentle and cool, the beautiful old buildings, the smiles, the fresh food, the connection to friends and to everyone in and around the town center.  An air of excitement in anticipation of our exploration of the town after lunch.  I am grateful to my father and the Battalion, for having saved this beautiful city.

On Memorial Day, I went to the cemetery where my mother and father are buried.  I wanted to water the flowers, and check on things.

The cemetery, usually very quiet, was quite busy. I suppose this isn't unusual on holidays. 

A couple came over to introduce themselves to me, and to ask about my father (the Veteran's flags can be seen from quite a distance).

They, too, were visiting family -- a son, 20 years old, lost in Iraq in August of 2004.  I had few words to offer these parents on this day.  I cannot conceive of this kind of loss.  It renders me speechless.

That encounter has raised my awareness, though.  And maybe my conscience.  I went on-line to check the Iraq US death total today -- 4,085. A total of 4,397 Coalition deaths, since the beginning of the war.  Between 85,000 and 90,000 civilian deaths.  Inconceivable.  The war has been going on for six years.  This, also, is astonishing when you think about it.

I am not sure how I have lost track of all of this.  I am not sure where I can take all of this.  I am a little surprised at where this blog posting is going.

I do know it is important to stay in touch with how many are dying, and how long we have been at war.  

We may not have the answers yet, but it is important to stay in touch with what is true.  To pay attention.  And in the truth, and the attention, I have faith we will find the answers. 

For now, during this time for Memorial, I am humbled by the circumstances, and grateful beyond measure for the service and sacrifice of the men and women of the armed forces today and throughout the ages.  And I am grateful to their families of those who serve. For many, the sacrifice has been too great.

Twenty Shades of White

I grew up in a family where white was the color for walls.  My father, a designer, loved color, and he used it in the art itself to decorate the rooms.  The walls were largely white, the canvas to showcase the designs he hung.

So, when my husband and I bought our first house, it was natural for me to remove all wall color.  We painted over golds and greens (this was the late 70's after all), we stripped flowered paper off kitchen walls.

I had twenty shades of white that I would choose from...

Linen White

Alaska White

Navaho White

White Coffee

Antique White

Ivory Lace...

The list goes on.  I became expert at choosing the right white.

And so it went for fifteen years or so.

Then we moved to the house we are presently in. The living room was calling for color.  It was a bold move for me.  So bold that it took six months, and many test paintings of a short section of wall to finally decide upon the deep red color that is on those walls today, California Paint's Bryce Canyon.

I bring this all up because I was reminded of color in visiting the new house of friends on Sunday.  I was woken up by the impact of the thoughtful color throughout the house.  Cheerful, engaging, warm, really special.

I thought, color represents such a metaphor for me.

It is easy to fall into shades of white in our lives.  Settling for the everyday, walking on autopilot.  Vivid color can bring out drama and excitement.  Freshness.  Something white can't do. 

***

At this point, I need to tell on myself.  I had a completely different ending to this blog.  Something about choosing color -- choosing what is vivid in life.  And, as life so often will have it, a new perspective was delivered to me in the form of some writing by journalist, John Berendt.

I was struck by Berendt's description of whites in his book on Venice, The City of Falling Angels.  In it he is describing a person of Venice society, Patricia Curtis.  "As before, she was dressed in white, but I could see now that white, for her, was not a uniform white, but rather a broad spectrum of whites: creamy white, milk white, linen white, bone white, dove white...a mix and match of whites in a casual and oddly liberating way. White was, after all, the combination of all colors of light."

White, not bland after all, but "the combination of all colors of light."  The gifted writer, Berendt, uses his attention to detail to take us to a different view of white.  It is easy to appreciate white anew through his description.  This may be what my father saw in the white walls, so long ago.

Deeply appreciating may be the theme of this blog now.  Not color vs. white.  Noticing color and white and appreciating both.

Whether the 128-count Crayola box of color, or the many whites in the spectrum -- we may choose either, or for that matter both...

and it is in the conscious choice, and appreciation, that the magic may just live!

Saturday

Today is Saturday (okay the dateline will say Monday, but I did write this Saturday).  It is a beautiful Spring morning.  I awoke with a strange question on my mind, "What if we live until 150 years old?  What if I do?"

I didn't come to this question on my own.  I read something in a Wall Street Journal article a couple of weeks ago.  I never saved it, as I sometimes do, because my first reaction was "Who would want to!"  In denial of the possibility, I threw the paper into the recycling bin.

And, on my way to AN appointment on Thursday, the thought started to re-enter my consciousness.  This morning, it was a full blown question.  What if it were possible to live that long?

I logged onto the ether, and googled '150 years old.'  I got a reference to some work that Steven Austad, professsor of cellular biology at the University of Texas Health Science Center, has been doing.  According to this blurb, 'some children born in the year 2000 will live to the age of 150.'

So, okay, it won't be me.  And, at the same time, it is possible that I will live beyond 100.  I have longevity in my family.  And with good heathcare, good nutrition, well who knows!  This article has got me thinking.  I need to take this longevity thing a lot more seriously.

Some pEople will think it is bad luck to even think about these things.  Why tempt the fates, right?

Well, I do have an ulterior motive.  I have been noticing lately that I am drawn, on weekends, to start learning how to spend Sabbath time.  Call it what you will (I am not at all limited to the Sabbath word), I am relearning how to rest, renew and lean into what it means to create non-work time -- to be creative in non-work time.  Not just to chill out, but truly figure out what it means to be in renewal.

I have found, this is not as easy as it sounds.

Many of us love our work, so it is easy to continue doing it, on weekends, in the evenings.  The lure of the desk, checking email, thinking about and solving things. Oh, it is so easy to be lured into work, well, all of the time.

Webster's defines the word Sabbatical as 'of the Sabbath' and Sabbatical leave as 'a period of absence with pay, for study, travel, etc.'  Weekends can be just that for us.  A period of absence from work to study or travel or begin something new.

Putting it into that context conjures up lots of ideas.  I have been holding a file on family information for about 15 years, adding to it in bits and pieces, but mostly ignoring it, for that day when I finally have time to begin our Family Tree.  Weekends, Sabbaths, are a great time to begin this exploration.

This isn't so hard after all.  And with those long lifespans mentioned earlier, we have plenty of time to try new things.  What is the big hurry anyway?

Lest you are thinking, what if I don't live that long -- well, that's the good news too.  If we aren't going to live forever, isn't it time we started to do some of things we have always wanted to do?  To study, to travel, to learn something new?

So you see, it's an argument that works both ways.  And I just can't find a thing wrong with that.

Off to research. I can't wait to find out what is in store for me in my family 'herstory!'

Amateur

Amateur, from the French, L amare, to love.

When we approach something as an amateur, say a hobby or a sport, we do it for the love of it, not to become expert at it or 'professional.'

It is the true definition of this word that stopped me short the other day.  I was listening to an NPR inteview with Karen Armstrong (author of The Spiral Staircase).  Within the context of this interview, Karen Armstrong pointed this out.  Amateur is one who loves a particular thing.  I have often thought of the amateur perspective as 'on the way to getting to expert.'  As a 'not yet', a falling short of. Or, on the way to becoming.

Now, I see a very different meaning.  Why, we may choose to stay at the amateur stage, the stage where we love this thing, always. 

I can name a few of these things that are at that stage for me -- nature, for one.  Photography is another.  I don't know a lot about birds, trees, flowers...and I love being out in nature (and taking pictures of it too).  I am an amateur at this nature thing.  I do strive to learn something about it all.  Recently a bird showed up at our feeder that I had never seen before.  It was black with a dark brown head.  I googled 'brown-headed blackbird' and I came up with something called a Cowbird that looks like it.  If I am correct in this, according to the map, this is the furthest South that this particular bird is sited.  It is mostly a Canadian bird.  And it is right in my backyard.  Knowing this actually adds to my love of feeding and attracting the birds.  So, I don't think that it is a lack of knowledge that keeps us in the amateur status.

Perhaps what keeps us in the 'love' stage is merely a choice to continue to be surprised by the experience, whatever it is.  For instance, I know a lot of golfers who say they are not good golfers -- that is, amateurs.  My experience of them as golfers is that they are actually quite good.  What keeps them in the amateur classification?  Well, of course, they are not technically professional.  But also I think it is the choice to continue to be surprised by the game.  To assume a perspective of non-expert.  And to enjoy it, to love it, instead of trying to master it.  In fact, trying to master it is likely to get in the way of doing it well. I know this is true for me and golf!

So, this brings me full circle to the work that we do everyday.  If staying surprised, if loving what we do as hobbies keeps them enjoyable, fresh -- if an amateur's perspective keeps us learning -- what would happen if we brought the non-expert perspective to work?  What would we be open to learn?  What would we be willing to hear?  What would be possible?

So often, knowing it all gets in the way. 

In what way might a perspective shift serve you today?

Honoring Opposites

Click here to hear my new audio blog posting, or read below.

Honoring Opposites

It occurred to me as I was walking Tuckerman, my thirteen year old husky, this morning in the icy dark, that this is a season of opposites.

It was very icy out, and I would soon be returning to the toasty house, having pushed the heat way up before I left the house.

I was having an ordinary moment -- after all I walk Tuck every morning -- and this is the season of extraordinary time, not ordinary time.  It was quite extraordinary in the dark starry morning.

Also, I have been looking this holiday season to slow down, so that I can move more quickly, in a more focused way, more purposefully.  Another contrast.

And, this season, I find myself really willing to honor the losses of the last few years, and this opens so much space at the same time for a lighter, more joyful appreciation of this season.

Opposites.

Ordinary...Extraordinary.

Losses...joys.

Slow...quick.

It is all of these contrasts in our lives that make life so full.

In his book, Timeshifting, Dr. Stephan Rechtschaffen, founder of the Omega Institute in New York, talks about many ways to shift time in order to live life more fully.

He writes about:

• Being in the moment:  use the ring of the telephone or the Outlook Calendar chime announcing your next meeting to pause and breathe several times.  Rather than clenching up, slow down and breathe for just a few seconds,
• Creating time boundaries: create time that is strictly your own, preferably the same time every day -- and whether it is 15 minutes or an hour, honor this time completely as your own.  Do not give it away.
• Honoring the mundane:  honor all aspects of your life, not just the highlights.  So often we focus on the big meeting or dinner out, the holiday party.  What about the small things, writing a memo, doing the ironing, loading the dishwasher.  Treat every part of your day as worthy.
• Creating spontaneous time:  "Spontaneous time allows us to break 'set' and come freshly, without expectation, into a truly new experience."  I love this line from Timeshifting.  The best example, and one that is very timely here in New England, is the 'snow day'.  Remember that feeling as a kid?  In this time of tradition, creating spontaneity can be a wonderful way to truly experience your life.
• Doing what we like to do: Most of us know what this is for us -- going to the gym, pursuing a hobby or craft, puttering. Especially when we are busy, making time and making the choice to do what we like to do is critically important. Even just a little time doing what we like fills the well, and brings us the energy we need for other areas of our lives.
• Creating time retreats: Here the idea is to schedule a vacation or retreat, time away that is of a longer duration, perhaps a week or five days. While this time of year may be difficult to take that time away, it is the perfect time to schedule it for the future. One of the things I love best about vacations is the anticipation of them. I try to schedule a vacation way in advance so that I can get a running start leading up to it. Or maybe it's a walking start, or a dreaming start.

Anyway, you get the picture.  There is at least one thing on the list above that you could start to do for yourself right now.  To slow down so that you can actually make things happen more easily and more quickly in your life. 

Your life, a study in contrasts.

Your life.  Honoring what it is for you to be alive and present to what is unfolding right now.  In all its practicality and wonder -- a life that is joyfully and uniquely yours.

Gratitude

At this time of year, this season, being grateful is a natural state of mind for many of us.  Certainly, Thanksgiving is about just that, being thankful for all that we have, and celebrating that thanks by eating plentifully.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday.  It is simple, it is about family, connection, food, and is, happily without the gifts and the bustle and noise -- the anxiety that is often created during the Christmas holiday.

Poised on this day before Thanksgiving, I am grateful for so many things.  When I go into the supermarket lately, the vast array of choices and products is really speaking to me.  It is so clear to me how much abundance most of us in America experience.  I imagine someone coming into my supermarket from a foreign country, and I pause to see it all through their eyes.  It is just amazing to notice the thousands of products that are readily available to us.

I also have had the opportunity to be very grateful for my appliances lately.  Mostly, because I have been without them. Our dishwasher broke and was not fixed for almost three weeks.  While we all got used to pitching in to wash the dishes after dinner, it was a great relief to have it operating again.  I hadn't really appreciated the convenience that the dishwasher has served in my life until I lost it.

The microwave was apparently talking with the dishwasher about its three week vacation, and it stopped working on Sunday.  That's the way it goes with appliances.  It seems that once one goes, others follow.  Anyway, although I have a service call scheduled, I expect it will be at least another week before the microwave is fixed.  This, it turns out, is a bigger loss than the dishwasher.  We apparently use our microwave about a hundred times a day.  Who knew, until it broke down.

I am grateful that so many really important things are good.  I am grateful for my family, and for my friends and colleagues.  I acknowledge that there is much good that happens daily, ways that caring and generous people reach out and make a difference.  And at this time of year, I celebrate hearing the good stories of hope.  I want to celebrate the people who are making a difference in the world.  I don't want to wait for something to go wrong or go missing, or break -- in order to become aware enough to comtemplate and celebrate all of the good things that are happening right now.

As I said, it is startlingly clear to me how much abundance most of us in America experience.  Most of us.  The story, though, is incomplete without acknowledging that there are people in this country who are not as fortunate.  An article in USA Today on November 14th quoted an Agriculture Department study saying that 35.5 million people in this country did not have enough money or resources to get food for at least some period during this past year.  In other words, 35.5 million people in this country have been hungry, are hungry now, or will be hungry again soon.  This statistic stuns me.  When I think of hunger, I often think of the world -- that is, the less developed parts of the world.  But right here on our doorstep, in the richest country in the world, millions of people are still hungry.

So, I have an action step for myself on this.  I have gone to the internet and researched my local food bank (The Greater Boston Bank), and I intend to support them.  Along with being very grateful for all that is abundant in my life and naming these things, supporting the food bank to help them feed those without enough food is a tangible action that I can take.  I want to be standing among those willing to create hope and make a difference, and in this small way, I can.