Presence First

It was many years ago now that I asked my good friend and colleague Toke Moeller, “If you had one tool, what would that be?” We had just completed an Art of Hosting, the first in North America, helping to further encourage the body of work that is participative leadership. We were at the Marsh House at the Aldermarsh property on Whidbey Island in Washington State. The building and retreat center were empty, 30 bodies had scattered out into there varied destinations, after having been together for three wonderful days together. This was 2002. Toke’s response, in the quiet of this now empty building, was “presence.” His words echoed just a tiny bit in the empty meeting space. Those words have not stopped echoing in me.

It was only a day ago that in conversation and planning with another friend and colleague, Christina Baldwin, I heard similar words. She was sharing what was the essence for her, a version of response to “Why circle?” “Presence,” she began, “is what changes how we are together. Presence is what people are longing for. Presence is what people are struggling to have in a world that requires tending through multiple distractions. Circle helps to create this.”

There it was again. Simplicity. If in doubt, give energy and attention to presence. Showing up to listen to silence together. To listen to each others words. To listen to what is in the middle of those words and that silence that glues them together.

Both of these people, Toke and Christina, are woven into my soul. They are both kind and gracious. They are both welcoming. They are both fiercely committed to good. My friendship and growing up with them is one of the things I’m most grateful for in my life.

And there are days, for all of us, when returning to the simple advice from friends that travel life together, is the only thing that seems to matter.

Presence first.

What Now? Just A Candle.

cande

There have been times in my life when my instincts have guided me to do nothing but ground myself. When I’ve touched something that feels extraordinary and from a completely different energy than what feels the norm of this life. Something sacred? Maybe. Something deeply resonant? Yes. Something that reminds me of a much broader realm of reality, that I know within me, yet that has been forgotten through some deep cocooning from wounds.

I’ve loved these times. Moments really. Glimpses within a moment. Glimpses that can so easily slide back into the ordinary norms of day to day life. Like an onramp that connects fantastic, blissful countryside wandering to the racing traffic of a freeway. I’m generally hesitant to take the onramp to quickly.

With age, this hesitation has grown in me. I don’t want to return quite so quickly. A bit like seeing a fantastic movie and not being ready to leave the theatre back to the regular streets. I need to sit through the credits, just to let that fantastic movie rest inside of me while others exit.

This morning I had one of those moments, a phone call with a dear and trusted friend. She has a wisdom that I deeply value, and that helps me remember who I am. In ending the call, I didn’t want to just clap my hands and move to the freeway that is my todo list. My “letting the call rest inside me” instinct today was a candle. “I need some fire,” I thought to myself. I don’t know why. Just some flame. Just something simple that is beyond words.

I put on some classical music. Played softly.

I got down on the floor to pet my sleeping and aging dog. His energy is very soft.

Maybe that’s the theme of it all for me. Go to the extraordinary. But then be deliberate about the return with a few bits of softness. Just a candle. Maybe some music. Maybe a moment with this being that knows nothing about my todo list. That’s my “what now?” for transition from extraordinary moments.

Kai The Dog

The old joke about the dyslexic atheist comes to mind, who didn’t believe there was a dog.

This dog, however, and this post by Reverend Charles LaFond, make oodles of sense to me. God, or goodness, and playfulness, and sacredness in the experience right in front of us.

Charles writes daily in The Daily Sip, which I find often shapes my day in such a good way. You can read his posts here, including this full post about his dog Kai, who does all of the things he describes!

Kai the dog

Kai-the-dog

When you look at me I see God
perhaps more than in a chalice
silver and crimson red with wine,
and more than a paten with
ridiculous wafers nobody
enjoys eating.

I see God in those big eyes
which say over and over
again that you love me and
you like me.
You seem to look at me not
with eyes of justice or anger
like the God the church
has so long espoused;
but rather with joy and
great expectation for what might
happen in four seconds
which is as far ahead as you ever think.

And that too is like God for me,
since I am not sure God is a planner
as much as I think God
is an enjoyer of the
present moment.

“A stick?”
“A bone?’
“A cuddle?”
“A walk together?”
“A bit of spooning?”
“A biscuit?”
“Just some staring lovingly at each other?”
…What shall we do now?!?!?!

Something that involves us
being together?
Something that involves me
showing you I adore you?
Something that involves a tug or war or lots
of licking your face
while I wag my tail?

This is Kai-the-dog
at Miss-Meg-camp.
He is this way everywhere,
with everyone.

How is it that we look to
altars and books to find God
and cannot see God in
everything else,
all creation.

And in Kai-the-dog?