Hope's Cafe

Conscious Aging

My early thoughts on aging were influenced by what was then mandatory retirement at 65. I recall several men in the vicinity of our neighborhood who retired….and promptly died. I had the impression that was the nature of aging: one quits work (quits being productive) and death follows. I wasn’t entirely wrong. When one’s identity is so tied to one’s work, retirement can engender a sense of uselessness and defeat that can contribute to an early death.

John Robinson, author of Bedtime Stories for Elders: What Fairy Tales Can Teach Us about the New Aging, writes that aging “is not a time of stasis, retreat, or simply decline. Rather, aging appears to be a profoundly transformational stage, a journey into an entirely new dimension of life.” Perhaps that would be more nearly accurate to say it is “not intended” to be a time of stasis. We are designed to keep growing but we may not always be able or willing to do so as we age.

However, “conscious aging,” the founder of Sage-ing International suggests, involves a “second maturity” that makes the years beyond sixty perhaps “evolution’s greatest gift to humanity.” In 1900 the average life span was forty-five and only four percent of the population was over sixty-five. Today, nearly 80 percent of people living in the United States will live to be past sixty-five. Robinson writes that everything we know about aging may be wrong or outdated.

This transformation Robinson describes as subtle. One of the clues that transformation is occurring is “moments of silence, stillness, and timelessness, when it seems as if the mystery of eternity is leaking into your everyday world; moment when time stops.” This brings to mind a poem my husband wrote on one birthday after he returned from a hike in the woods, which he has given me permission to share:

“My consciousness opened the windows of the world on this early December day.

The wind sang through the nearly naked branches of giant oak, rustling brown leaves in an ethereal rhythm of worship.

Transforming white clouds raced across the deep blue sky, chased by a warm south wind that gently caressed my cheeks in magnanimous embrace.

I breathed the freshness that permeates the forest after rain, and heard the perpetual song of water rushing into infinity.

I recognized that the peace of this moment is anchored in eternity.” Terry F. Stulce, December 2005.

Curiously, this was written on his sixtieth birthday, just as the founder of Sage-ing International mentioned the transformation tends to begin.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: Father Richard Rohr writes, “Spiritual maturity is largely a growth in seeing; and full seeing seems to take most of our lifetime.” What do you now see in a different light than you did in the first half of life? What clues do you use to know when you might need to invite a different perspective?

(From Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life , A Companion Journal by Richard Rohr).

The Power of Silence

As a therapist, I spent countless hours listening. It was sometimes a temptation to break my silence too soon, risking the disruption of the client’s process of self-discovery. As Dr. Alan Lickerman has written, “Silence gets you out of the way and creates a space others will fill in with themselves.”

I counseled a lot of couples which typically involved teaching/facilitating partners to get quiet enough long enough to hear what the other person was truly expressing. Relationships of all types are dependent on the ability to be silent, to listen, to open the ears of the heart. The site Quora describes silence as having “a certain energy to it like no other energy source.”

Relationships need this energy. But we also benefit as individuals when we draw on it. Even Forbes magazine encourages business people to make use of this, stating: “You don’t need other people to reap the power of silence. Take time out of your day to be silent. Hold a moment of silence when you wake up in the morning. Go into a room during the workday, and close the door for a few minutes. Pause just before you go to bed.”

We are often quick—too quick—to say we “don’t have time.” Really? We need to think about what we are actually saying when we express that. We have time for whatever we make a priority. And, truly, it doesn’t take a lot of time to make a lot of difference. Even a few minutes before you begin your day or just a few deep breaths to center yourself in the midst of your day can call you to a more grounded space.

Think of silence as a kind of energy, as essential as the air you breathe. If you haven’t already discovered the difference it can make, accept the challenge today. And blessings on the journey.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: Google “Breathing in, breathing out lyrics” or go to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8iRJEMzQ4To

You will find a brief meditative song that may assist you in taking some silent moments.

Wheat and Chaff

As I sort through years of all that has accumulated over the course of my life, I consider the term “winnowing-fan,” a word which comes from the Greek and literally means “consumer of chaff.”

A winnowing-fan looks nothing like what we think of as a fan—but both are used to create currents of air. The farmer puts the unsorted grain and chaff into the basket, and shakes it until the lighter chaff is propelled over the fan’s lip, while the heavier grain remains inside.

As the old saying goes, “what does that have to do with the price of tea in China?” (or whatever variation of that you might have heard growing up). If you have ever sorted through all your belongings, perhaps you recognize the process of the winnowing-fan: making judgements on what is “chaff,” nonessential, and what is “wheat,” those things that lend deeper meaning to your life.

During one of my residencies in the Shalem Program for Spiritual Guidance, we were on silent retreat for the weekend. We were not to use our phones but I noticed my husband was calling. He knew I was in silent retreat, so I expected it had to be important. When I answered, he told me the woods behind our house were on fire and he had been warned that he should be prepared to evacuate, taking with him whatever we deemed most important. What did I think was most important, he wanted to know. What a startling question!

When I paused, he said, “I was thinking of packing up the quilts.” Strange as that answer may seem, our walls as well as our beds are covered with quilts. We have one that was made for his mother as a friendship quilt in 1933 when she was pregnant with his beloved sister, twelve years his senior. Many of the squares are signed by his relatives. We have a quilt my mother made on the wall and one of hers on one of the beds. We have a quilt made by family friends who once had a quilt displayed in the Smithsonian. My quilter friend Mary has graced our home with many of her creations. So much of our life together is represented by our quilts.

Thankfully, as it turned out, firefighters were able to contain the fire and we didn’t have to make any sudden decisions about what to save. But the question still stands as I seek to divest myself of so much: What is wheat and what is chaff?

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: The winnowing-fan

Quandary

The word “quandary” has been on my mind lately—because I have been in one. The Oxford dictionary defines this as “a state of perplexity or uncertainty over what to do in a difficult situation.” I had to laugh because the example given to use it in a sentence was “Kate is in a quandary.”

Recently I offered to send a 21 day discernment process I had put together last year to a friend whose church is in a “quandary” now. In leafing through what I had written, I came to day ten’s entry which included these questions:

When I (we) look back a year from now, what would I (we) like to have done?
Am I (are we) aware of all the options?
What are the possible consequences of each option?
Am I (are we) telling myself (ourselves) the truth? (Too often we tell ourselves what we want to hear).
Does this feel right? (Is thinking about the option energizing or draining?)
What would I (we) do if I (we) weren’t afraid?

Well, one might wonder: Why Hadn’t I Thought of Using This For Myself?! So, I got out my journal and began to write. All of these questions I found helpful, but some were particularly illuminating. What would I do if I weren’t afraid? I think back on my senior year in college. The recruiter for Peace Corps was on campus. As a reporter for the school paper, I was sent to interview her. She and I instantly “clicked.” She strongly encouraged me to apply. And I wanted to. But that would have meant being far from the safety and familiarity of home. I couldn’t (wouldn’t) bring myself to take the risk.

Looking back, I can see that just the leap from college student to employed person out in the world was daunting enough to me. Going to a foreign country seemed like a bridge too far. But I also see that I sometimes rule doable things out as too difficult, impossible even, without giving those things time to percolate, time for a path to evolve.

So should you ever find yourself in a “quandary,” I recommend these questions. Ponder them. Get out pen and paper and respond to them. You might well discover some enlightenment on your dilemma, perhaps even resolution to it.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: Raise a toast to Hope’s Café! This post represents one full year of blogs coming to you every Friday! 😊

Radical Hospitality

The phrase “radical hospitality” caught my attention in a recent post on the website Abbey of the Arts, a site I discovered this year.

Radical hospitality tends to inspire “walking into trouble” as Sister Simone Campbell, head of the Nuns on the Bus tour, describes her faith. This use of faith as a verb instead of a noun was also espoused by the late Congressman John Lewis who famously said, “Make good trouble, necessary trouble.” Their actions exemplify this practice of putting extraordinary effort and emphasis on making people feel welcome, of accepting the challenge and risks of extending ourselves beyond our comfort zones.

In 2013 my pastor took sabbatical and I was hired to be the pastor in his absence. My very first Sunday in the pulpit, a homeless man came in off the street. We welcomed him as we would anyone but were a little wary. We had had a service disrupted once by someone who was seriously mentally ill and that left an indelible impression. Two ushers seated themselves nearby where the fellow had found a pew and stretched out, covering himself with his coat. He appeared to be asleep throughout the service. But when it came time to offer prayer requests, he suddenly popped up, saying he wanted to share something. I hesitated a split second and then said, “Of course. Please do.” To our surprise and delight, he held us spellbound as he sang a beautiful hymn.

Hospitality can yield pleasant surprises, such as this one was, but also some disconcerting ones. When a cross dresser arrived for worship we were happy to welcome him but were startled when we learned from him afterward that he had served time as a pedophile. He reported that he was meeting regularly with his parole officer, whose contact information he freely gave. Now we had the safety of our children to consider. In consultation with our parents of young children, we put a plan in place to ensure he was not around the children but we continued to welcome him to our services.

Though these examples were within our walls, the nature of radical hospitality actually calls us to reach out. Once when our governor had put forth a plan to extend health care, our congregation in concert with others, marched in support of it. I accompanied the pastor to the office of our representative prior to the vote to urge his support. When we take radical hospitality seriously we are alert to opportunities to extend ourselves in the cause of making this a more welcoming place for all.

However, the post from the Abbey, which started me on this topic, pointed out another aspect which seems fundamental. The Abbey author suggested a reaching inward to offer radical hospitality towards ourselves, recognizing the burdens we bear—old wounds and griefs, anxieties and anger–emotional scars that could use some tender care. This is the soil in which compassion within us grows, enabling us to respond to those we encounter, authentically, effectively, in the practice of this hospitality so needed in our world.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: 1) Consider if you yourself need some radical hospitality. How might you nurture yourself to grow a more compassionate attitude within? 2) Pay attention to needs that present themselves to you and assess where you might offer radical hospitality.

Monkey Mind

Sometimes on Sunday mornings when I have the opportunity, I join in a Sangha group on zoom. Sangha is a Buddhist community that gathers for meditation, study and mutual support. In the 20 minutes of meditation that precedes the study topic, I often have what is referred to as “monkey mind.”

According to Buddhist principles, the “monkey mind” is a term that refers to being unsettled, restless, or confused. I experience it as a jumble of thoughts leading me on a not-so-merry chase. So this past Sunday I began to play with the image of a monkey performing its antics, swinging from branches, careening from one tree to another. Eventually I imagined the monkey just sitting on a limb. A client to whom I had lent a meditation CD I had recorded once told me that whenever she played it, her cat would stretch out contentedly in front of the speaker. So I imagined the monkey stretching out on the limb for a nap. While I never could quite get the monkey to sleep, he did seem to doze a bit.

Focusing on the breath is always the path to quieting the mind. There are many techniques that have been suggested but I discovered one Sunday I had not heard recommended before. As you breathe in, gently open your palm. As you breath out, gently close it .

Behavioral researchers find that using our hands for activities stimulates brain activity, promotes mental health, and relieves stress. Kelly Lambert, neuroscientist at the University of Richmond made up a term she called “behaviorceuticals.” instead of pharmaceuticals. She used this in the sense that when we move and when we engage in activities, we change the neurochemistry of our brain in ways that a drug can change the neurochemistry of our brain.

Everyone can discover for herself or himself what techniques work best for meditation. But, to borrow a phrase, it never hurts to have one more “tool” in the “arsenal.”

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: Another tip involving the body is to ask yourself “Where are my feet?” Put them firmly on solid ground. If your circumstances don’t permit that, imagine planting them on terra firma. This may seem a little absurd if you have never tried it. But it can pretty quickly connect you to the present moment, key to meditation.

Narrative

In the book How To Be Awake and Alive, the authors, a married couple who were therapists, write of a young man in their office speaking about his unhappy marriage: “He loved his wife, but felt compelled to criticize her and put her down. As the session continued, he was asked about his parents. He shook his head sadly, saying he was sure they didn’t love each other. He was encouraged to talk about his childhood, and it became increasingly clear that somehow it was important for him to believe that his parents had an unhappy marriage. Not only that, but he had an equally strong conviction that all marriages were bad, including his own.”

The stories we tell ourselves about our lives, about who we are, can empower us or damage us in ways that persist throughout our lives. I have had a heart murmur from childhood but it was not diagnosed till I was in junior high. Up until then, I only knew that I could not keep up with other kids. I wasn’t picked for teams. It took me three years to pass beginner swimming. I felt defective. While I now recognize the feeling and can challenge it when I encounter it, this is embedded in my psyche.

I also told myself I was not very smart. This was based on the fact that science and math were not my strong suits. I excelled at English and journalism and did well with languages. But perhaps along with my belief that I was “defective,” believing I was also not very smart came easily.

The term “narrative therapy” came into use in the 1980’s by New Zealand therapists, Michael White and David Epston, who felt it was critically important for people not to label themselves, to see themselves as “broken” or “the problem,” or for them to feel powerless in their circumstances and behavior patterns. Thus the focus of narrative therapy is on stories that we develop within ourselves and carry throughout our lives. We give meaning to our personal experiences. These narratives influence how we see ourselves and the world around us, thus impacting choices and decisions we make. I look back on opportunities I missed because I didn’t believe myself smart enough or capable enough to give them the effort they deserved.

“The way we tell our life story is the way we begin to live our life,” wrote author Maureen Murdoch. Or, as one saying I recall, phrased it: “Be careful how you speak your life because how you speak your life can become your life.”

So speak to yourself as you would to someone dear to you, with love and encouragement. Be alert to old beliefs that hold you back and challenge them. If necessary, rewrite old “scripts” and develop a new narrative. Discover the empowerment of affirming your own truth.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: “We all make mistakes, have struggles, even regret things in our past. But you are not your mistakes, you are not your struggles, and you are here NOW with the power to shape your day and your future.” — Steve Maraboli, author and motivational speaker.

Graceful Exits

“There’s a trick to the ‘graceful exit.’ It begins with the vision to recognize when a job, a life stage, or a relationship is over—and let it go. It means leaving what’s over without denying its validity or its past importance to our lives. It involves a sense of future, a belief that every exit line is an entry, that we are moving up rather than out.” So wrote Ellen Goodman, American journalist and syndicated columnist.

Letting go, exiting gracefully, seems to be a challenge I have never quite mastered, a skill set never fully developed. I mourn. I agonize. I dither. My mother was fond of saying “Once you’ve made a decision, murder the alternative.” I’m sure she had watched me mourn/agonize/dither enough times just trying to get to a decision, that she was encouraging me to put an end to it.

Probably another ‘trick’ to the graceful exit is to recognize what purpose it serves to hang on. When I look at my own process, I see that it gives me the sense of having two (or perhaps more) desired things at once. Sadly, it deprives me of truly having either (or any). Case in point: each year as we are aging, living on our property becomes a little more difficult. We talk about selling. We talk about where we might move. We do very little towards either. But as long as we remain in place, we have the benefit of being here and the dream of being somewhere else. However, that means I spend a lot of time not being in the present moment, disrupting the pleasure of living where we are, of truly being present to where I am in this moment of time.

So my goal today is to pay attention to my life as it is right now, in this place where I am right now. And when the time comes to move on, may I exit gracefully.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: A #MondayMoment quote is “Today I will live in the moment…..unless the moment is unpleasant, in which case I will eat a cookie.” Doesn’t hurt to keep a sense of humor as you practice living in the present moment! A cookie won’t “fix” anything really. But should you “need” a cookie and want a new cookie recipe to try, I suggest one I adapted:

Oatmeal Chip Cookies ¾ c. butter or margarine; 1 c. brown sugar packed firm; ½ white sugar; 1 egg; ¼ c. water; ¼ c. molasses; 1 tsp. vanilla; 2 c. oatmeal; 2 c. flour; 1 t. soda; 1 t. salt; ½ c. chocolate chips; ½ c. butterscotch (or peanut butter) chips; Beat together shortening, sugars, egg, water, molasses and vanilla. Add remaining ingredients. Drop by rounded tsp. onto greased baking sheet. Bake 10-12 min. at 350 degrees. Bon appetit!

Resilience

“Optimism is really rooted in gratitude. Optimism is sustainable when you keep coming back to gratitude, and what follows from that is acceptance.” These are the words of Michael J. Fox, age 59, who has battled Parkinson’s disease for 30 years.

In an interview with him I heard this week, the talented and now retired actor talked about a dark place he had been in more recently when he fell and shattered his arm. Following his initial reaction to his diagnosis in 1992 when he drank heavily, he had since worked to maintain an upbeat attitude through all his difficulties. But this latest accident was a severe blow that sent him reeling emotionally. What brought him back? Gratitude

I have written about this approach to life before. But in sorting through some materials I have saved over the years, I found an article that expanded my understanding of gratitude. The author of this article, Diana Butler Bass, noted that we misunderstand gratitude as a practice of looking backward, giving thanks for what we have previously experienced. Instead, Butler Bass wrote, gratitude is not about passive reflection, but about building resilience. Further, she conveyed that when we practice being grateful, we create an “upward spiral” of well-being such that we increase the likelihood of functioning well and feeling good in the future.

Gratitude is a habit we can build by “engaging the past more graciously, living more appreciatively now and building thanks into the foundation for our future,” according to Butler Bass. When I myself have begun to slip into some doldrums over disappointment or loss, ranging from minor to catastrophic, counting blessings has rarely failed me.

While we all can identify experiences in our lives that have left us struggling to cope, the antidote is within our capacity to develop. After her termination from her first job out of graduate school, Butler Bass was encouraged by a friend to keep a journal and write down at least one blessing every day. In the beginning she found it hard but eventually began to notice the list of blessings was growing and her own sense of herself and her world was growing more positive along with it.

This practice of journaling has been given the name “gratitude intervention” and has been recommended by psychologists and medical professionals as evidence has mounted that writing about blessings reduces stress and improves moods. Seems a worthy practice whether one is experiencing extreme challenges or a period of calm. If the very idea seems daunting, consider it an experiment, tinker with it a bit. You might be as surprised as Butler Bass and as renewed as Michael J. Fox.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: “If you must look back, do so forgivingly. If you must look forward, do so prayerfully. However, the wisest thing you can do is be present to the present…gratefully.”—Maya Angelou

Forgiveness

“Forgiveness is not always easy. At times, it feels more painful than the wound we suffered, to forgive the one that inflicted it. And yet, there is no peace without forgiveness.” So said author Marianne Williamson. Many of us have experienced this truth.

In our household, we often discover a bit of hard, crusty bread that managed to sink into some abyss in the pantry. I find my own process of forgiveness to be much like finding bits of hard, crusty remains of a loaf of old resentments I thought I had forgiven. But no! I had hung on to some part that still smoldered, like remnants of a fire that cooled but never went out entirely.

Dr. Fred Luskin, director of the Stanford University Forgiveness Project, offers this suggestion for dealing with those difficult emotions that we tend to perpetuate by keeping them tucked in some corner of our hearts, where we can easily retrieve them to ruminate yet again on the injustice of it all:

“Picture the crowded screen in front of a harried air traffic controller. Picture the chaos in the room and the jumble of planes on the screen. Now imagine that your unresolved grievances are the planes on that screen that have been circling for days and weeks on end. Most of the other planes have landed, but your unresolved grievances continue to take up precious air space, draining resources that may be needed in an emergency. Having them on the screen forces you to work harder and increases the chance for accidents. The grievance planes become a source of stress and burnout is often the result.”

Forgiveness is the peace you learn to feel, Dr. Luskin says, when you allow these circling planes to land.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus: (From my archive of therapy tools)

An Exercise for Dissolving Old Resentments: Sit quietly, close your eyes and allow your mind and body to relax. Then imagine yourself sitting in a darkened theater and in front of you is a small stage. On that stage place the person you resent most, past or present, living or dead. When you see this person clearly, visualize good things happening to this person. Things that would be meaningful to them. See them smiling and happy. Hold this image for a few minutes then let it fade away. As they leave the stage, put yourself up there. See good things happening to you. See yourself smiling and happy. Imagine the theater being brighter yourself feeling lighter and radiating peace and joy. Be aware that the abundance of the universe is available for all.