It’s not exactly lamb-like out there this morning, and here it is the end of March. That’s the kind of grumbling you can hear from a lot of us upstate New Yorkers lately – especially since we got about six inches of fresh, wet snow last Friday. We’re ready for spring, feverish from being holed up in our cabins these long months, and aching to feel sun-warmed air actually touching skin – instead of having to circulate past the multiple layers we must wear over our skin.
And yet. That fresh snow made Friday – and Saturday and Sunday – among the most beautiful days of my experience. Especially at this time of year. I love spring, but I have to admit that I have to look for beauty this early in the season. I do look, of course, because I’ve learned how much I rely on beauty to feed my spirit.
And the beauty is there – when you look up close. A clump of bright white snow buds blooms outside my office windows. Tips of tree branches are swelling in anticipation of budding. Brave daffies and crocus are shooting up amid the flotsam and jetsam that has collected over the fall and winter. Willow trees have begun to take on that rusty color that precedes their greening. Robins abound and even the hardier birds of winter seem more likely to show themselves. And even on cold days, the sun feels warm on my face.
There is certainly beauty. And the promise of much more – just weeks away. I guess imagination also feeds my spirit.
But, when one takes the far view most days in our early spring, the world can still look fairly grey. Until the world gets decorated with a bright new blanket of sparkling white as it did last week. And then the far view was gorgeous! Vivid contrasts! Brilliant outlines of fields, hedges, the bones of trees! Bright, clean, fresh! Beautiful!
It was actually colder yesterday than some days a month or more ago. On my walk to breakfast, my ears got crunchy! And yet, there was still a sense of spring in the air. As someone remarked, if we’d had such a day as yesterday – cold and bright - back in November or December, we’d not have appreciated it nearly so much. But now, it matters little how cold it is. What matters is that it’s beautiful – and we believe we’re going to have more beauty and warmth soon. We’re hopeful.
So last week’s weather provided a revelation for me in several ways. When I look, I can always find beauty. Sometimes things that seem bleak – a big snow when we want spring – provide unexpected beauty. And it’s easier for me to appreciate beauty when I also feel hopeful. Apparently my spirit feeds on beauty, imagination, and hope! I’ve been having a feast!
Here’s wishing you a spirit feast this week!
Sally
Monday, March 31, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Monday Moment - Yes - AND...
I started to write about a whole other topic today, but caught myself changing a “but” into an “and” – so I opted instead to talk about this really powerful idea I came across while learning about conflict management and negotiation skills.
The idea came from a book by William Ury and Roger Fisher – though I can’t actually remember if it was discussed in Getting To Yes or in Getting Past No, or both. Either or both are incredibly useful volumes that I’d heartily recommend to anyone who likes getting his or her own way. (I’m particularly fond of that practice myself!)
Anyway, Ury and Fisher insightfully identify that most of us will respond to a statement with which we cannot agree by beginning our argument with, “Yes, but…” which may not be the most effective strategy to influence another’s beliefs.
“Yes” sends the message that we are perfectly agreeable souls. However, “but” sends an entirely opposite message – usually that we see our own opinion as absolutely correct which must therefore mean that our partner in the argument must be completely wrong.
Well, yes. Many times “yes, but” sends exactly the message that we believe. I’m right and therefore you must be wrong. And if our aim is to bolster our own points of view – to ourselves - “yes, but…” will serve as well as any other opening to an argument.
However, the point of arguing is nearly always to attempt to convince someone else that our points of view are worth hearing and believing. If our aim is to influence our partner’s point of view, there are other strategies more likely to truly encourage them to listen to us.
Ury and Fisher suggest that we substitute “Yes, and…” for “Yes, but…” and see what happens.
Look at the difference in the message. “Yes” says we are still those perfectly agreeable souls. “And” says “You are on to something here, especially if you add in this extra information that I can contribute and which you might not have thought about before.”
Which approach would you be more likely to hear and consider? “I’m right and you’re wrong.” Or “I agree with a lot that you’ve said, and what do you think about this other information?” Hmmm…
I’ve been practicing this deceptively simple strategy for quite some time now, and I can tell you that taking “but” out of my written and spoken vocabulary has been challenging – and helpful! I’ve found people much more receptive to my ideas when I’m feeling evolved enough to replace “but” with “and.”
It’s challenging – and – it’s worth it! (Get the difference?)
In the week ahead, may you employ all the strategies you know to get more of what you want in life!
Sally
The idea came from a book by William Ury and Roger Fisher – though I can’t actually remember if it was discussed in Getting To Yes or in Getting Past No, or both. Either or both are incredibly useful volumes that I’d heartily recommend to anyone who likes getting his or her own way. (I’m particularly fond of that practice myself!)
Anyway, Ury and Fisher insightfully identify that most of us will respond to a statement with which we cannot agree by beginning our argument with, “Yes, but…” which may not be the most effective strategy to influence another’s beliefs.
“Yes” sends the message that we are perfectly agreeable souls. However, “but” sends an entirely opposite message – usually that we see our own opinion as absolutely correct which must therefore mean that our partner in the argument must be completely wrong.
Well, yes. Many times “yes, but” sends exactly the message that we believe. I’m right and therefore you must be wrong. And if our aim is to bolster our own points of view – to ourselves - “yes, but…” will serve as well as any other opening to an argument.
However, the point of arguing is nearly always to attempt to convince someone else that our points of view are worth hearing and believing. If our aim is to influence our partner’s point of view, there are other strategies more likely to truly encourage them to listen to us.
Ury and Fisher suggest that we substitute “Yes, and…” for “Yes, but…” and see what happens.
Look at the difference in the message. “Yes” says we are still those perfectly agreeable souls. “And” says “You are on to something here, especially if you add in this extra information that I can contribute and which you might not have thought about before.”
Which approach would you be more likely to hear and consider? “I’m right and you’re wrong.” Or “I agree with a lot that you’ve said, and what do you think about this other information?” Hmmm…
I’ve been practicing this deceptively simple strategy for quite some time now, and I can tell you that taking “but” out of my written and spoken vocabulary has been challenging – and helpful! I’ve found people much more receptive to my ideas when I’m feeling evolved enough to replace “but” with “and.”
It’s challenging – and – it’s worth it! (Get the difference?)
In the week ahead, may you employ all the strategies you know to get more of what you want in life!
Sally
Monday, March 17, 2008
Monday Moment - Grateful for Natural Entertainment
In the last week, tens of thousands – maybe hundreds of thousands – of geese have made a stop on our fair city’s lake. I hadn’t seen the announcement that their national convention would be held here this year, but that’s what it seems like! And oddly, it doesn’t seem like the convention has been nearly so evident nor as much a topic of conversation as it has been this year.
I’ve been observing the goosish revels for about an hour and half this very evening, and waited purposely to write this week’s Moment until I returned from the party. And a party it was – although like any resort town, there was truly a bit more action over the weekend and goose crowds were down as of Monday.
We have some year-round geese – quite a population actually – so we’ve become accustomed to seeing their familiar vees overhead. But en route to the convention, it looks as if a giant pepper grinder has been at work in the sky. Flocks joined together from other flocks darken the sky with black specks that shift from long lines to a collection of rolling foothills and jagged peaks that reminded me of Chinese water colors.
Waves upon waves of rolling foothills and jagged peaks approach the lake as geese who have fed well on leftover kernels in our corn fields approach their night’s lodging. The closer they get to the lake, the less organized they appear – at least to my non-goose eye. Lines, foothills, peaks all dissolve into what appear to be family groups of three, six, ten who seem to be overtaken by gravity as they fall from the air – after they circle, check out the watery neighborhood, and finally select their preferred patch of water.
And although there has been considerable honking and barking while they were airborne, the conversation seems to begin in earnest as they land. Deafening conversation that sounds… well, like a gaggle of geese! An un-harmonic cacophony of sound on which I wish I could eavesdrop more intelligently.
What do you suppose they are saying to one another? “Have we met?” “Did you see what that vee-hog did to my perfect formation?” “That’s a nice looking young gander over there.” “Mo-om!” “Oh no, not that family again. I thought we lost them two lakes ago. The way they honked into the night, I thought I’d never get to sleep!” “This is a nice place, maybe we ought to just stay here a while.” Or from our year-round geese, “These out-of-towners are ruining our neighborhood!”
I don’t suppose that my imaginings even approach the target, but they certainly entertain me.
As has the entire migration mystery, the lines, foothills, and peaks, and the waves of black Canada Geese and white Snow Geese honking, barking, and chuckling to one another on our lovely lake. The challenge of finding words to describe what I have seen and heard. Indeed, I have been mightily entertained. And I am grateful.
May you have such a bountiful reason for gratitude in the coming week!
Sally
I’ve been observing the goosish revels for about an hour and half this very evening, and waited purposely to write this week’s Moment until I returned from the party. And a party it was – although like any resort town, there was truly a bit more action over the weekend and goose crowds were down as of Monday.
We have some year-round geese – quite a population actually – so we’ve become accustomed to seeing their familiar vees overhead. But en route to the convention, it looks as if a giant pepper grinder has been at work in the sky. Flocks joined together from other flocks darken the sky with black specks that shift from long lines to a collection of rolling foothills and jagged peaks that reminded me of Chinese water colors.
Waves upon waves of rolling foothills and jagged peaks approach the lake as geese who have fed well on leftover kernels in our corn fields approach their night’s lodging. The closer they get to the lake, the less organized they appear – at least to my non-goose eye. Lines, foothills, peaks all dissolve into what appear to be family groups of three, six, ten who seem to be overtaken by gravity as they fall from the air – after they circle, check out the watery neighborhood, and finally select their preferred patch of water.
And although there has been considerable honking and barking while they were airborne, the conversation seems to begin in earnest as they land. Deafening conversation that sounds… well, like a gaggle of geese! An un-harmonic cacophony of sound on which I wish I could eavesdrop more intelligently.
What do you suppose they are saying to one another? “Have we met?” “Did you see what that vee-hog did to my perfect formation?” “That’s a nice looking young gander over there.” “Mo-om!” “Oh no, not that family again. I thought we lost them two lakes ago. The way they honked into the night, I thought I’d never get to sleep!” “This is a nice place, maybe we ought to just stay here a while.” Or from our year-round geese, “These out-of-towners are ruining our neighborhood!”
I don’t suppose that my imaginings even approach the target, but they certainly entertain me.
As has the entire migration mystery, the lines, foothills, and peaks, and the waves of black Canada Geese and white Snow Geese honking, barking, and chuckling to one another on our lovely lake. The challenge of finding words to describe what I have seen and heard. Indeed, I have been mightily entertained. And I am grateful.
May you have such a bountiful reason for gratitude in the coming week!
Sally
Monday, March 10, 2008
Monday Moment - Finding Faith
I’m in that dangerous time frame with a big goal. I’m about five weeks into the process, and although I have seen progress, it has seemed agonizingly slow despite my absolute determination and exceptionally controlled behavior. The first blush of excitement has slipped into routine that my intellect calls positive habits and my emotion calls boring tedium! It’s a dangerous time!
I am still committed to my weight loss plan. And in the five or so weeks since I began counting every calorie and fat gram, I have sweated, strained, and managed to dispose of 5 unwanted pounds. Do you see what I mean when I say the progress has been agonizingly slow?
And I swear to you – and more importantly to myself – that my calorie intake has been well within my limit all but one day of those five weeks. And even on that day – my birthday when I did allow myself a small portion of chocolate cake – I only exceeded my limit by 200 calories. I know this because I still log all my food intake every day – tedious though that process is. My activity level has been high – I’ve increased my average to 333 minutes a week for those five weeks. And still, I’m not seeing the results I’d really like to see. It’s a dangerous time.
So I have to look for other results that are harder to see in the numbers that are reflected on the scale.
I made it a point last week to try on a few items of clothing that I don’t wear often – partly because they have been a tad on the uncomfortably tight side. And now, five pounds lighter, there’s no crimping at the waist, there’s no interruption in the line of the skirt against my hips, I don’t feel compelled to drag on the lycra or seeking out a longer jacket to feel comfortable and happy in these items. There’s a result that will keep me going for a few more days.
And in my annual visit with my doc on Friday, I found evidence of more results of my efforts – the kind that don’t show, but will make a big difference over the long haul. My blood pressure – genetically very good at a normal of 110/70 – had been creeping up to numbers I didn’t much like. It wasn’t alarmingly high at 130/80, but certainly high for me. On Friday my blood pressure read 120/64 which pleases me very much. Likewise my cholesterol levels improved since last year’s blood test. Again genetics have been on my side – along with a diet habitually lower in fat than many people eat. But last year, my total cholesterol level was higher than I like – 212. And this year it’s down to 177 with corresponding drops in my LDL levels! Hooray! These are also results that fuel my determination and give me faith that all my effort is not in vain.
I suspect that I’m not alone in my need for tangible results for my goals. In fact, I suspect that a big reason many of us give up on setting goals in the first place is the lack of faith that our goals will produce the results we want. The effort seems too big a gamble for such a potentially slim return – especially when our goals are intended to have long-term effects.
And yet, there are often positive off-shoots of our goals – even if they aren’t quite the results we were hoping for. I’m going to rely on – and look for – those off-shoots as I continue my quest to get back to my healthy weight. I’ll need to rely on everything at all – any tiny sign - that can give me faith as I plod my way through this dangerous time.
May you also find faith in the week ahead!
Sally
I am still committed to my weight loss plan. And in the five or so weeks since I began counting every calorie and fat gram, I have sweated, strained, and managed to dispose of 5 unwanted pounds. Do you see what I mean when I say the progress has been agonizingly slow?
And I swear to you – and more importantly to myself – that my calorie intake has been well within my limit all but one day of those five weeks. And even on that day – my birthday when I did allow myself a small portion of chocolate cake – I only exceeded my limit by 200 calories. I know this because I still log all my food intake every day – tedious though that process is. My activity level has been high – I’ve increased my average to 333 minutes a week for those five weeks. And still, I’m not seeing the results I’d really like to see. It’s a dangerous time.
So I have to look for other results that are harder to see in the numbers that are reflected on the scale.
I made it a point last week to try on a few items of clothing that I don’t wear often – partly because they have been a tad on the uncomfortably tight side. And now, five pounds lighter, there’s no crimping at the waist, there’s no interruption in the line of the skirt against my hips, I don’t feel compelled to drag on the lycra or seeking out a longer jacket to feel comfortable and happy in these items. There’s a result that will keep me going for a few more days.
And in my annual visit with my doc on Friday, I found evidence of more results of my efforts – the kind that don’t show, but will make a big difference over the long haul. My blood pressure – genetically very good at a normal of 110/70 – had been creeping up to numbers I didn’t much like. It wasn’t alarmingly high at 130/80, but certainly high for me. On Friday my blood pressure read 120/64 which pleases me very much. Likewise my cholesterol levels improved since last year’s blood test. Again genetics have been on my side – along with a diet habitually lower in fat than many people eat. But last year, my total cholesterol level was higher than I like – 212. And this year it’s down to 177 with corresponding drops in my LDL levels! Hooray! These are also results that fuel my determination and give me faith that all my effort is not in vain.
I suspect that I’m not alone in my need for tangible results for my goals. In fact, I suspect that a big reason many of us give up on setting goals in the first place is the lack of faith that our goals will produce the results we want. The effort seems too big a gamble for such a potentially slim return – especially when our goals are intended to have long-term effects.
And yet, there are often positive off-shoots of our goals – even if they aren’t quite the results we were hoping for. I’m going to rely on – and look for – those off-shoots as I continue my quest to get back to my healthy weight. I’ll need to rely on everything at all – any tiny sign - that can give me faith as I plod my way through this dangerous time.
May you also find faith in the week ahead!
Sally
Monday, March 3, 2008
Monday Moment - Hope of Spring
Everywhere I’ve lived, people have said, ‘If you don’t like the weather, just wait five minutes.’ And regardless of whether I was making my home in Illinois, Kansas, Washington DC, or upstate New York, I’ve noticed that the weather occupies a significant portion of just about everyone’s conversation. Good or bad, the weather gives us a context for what we choose to do and how we choose to think.
In the course of the last week, our western New York weather has ranged from sunny and balmy 40 degree days to mornings of 3 degrees above zero and wind chills I’d rather not acknowledge. It has certainly not been a dull week!
I’ve heard one or two people grousing about the severe cold weather of Thursday and Friday last week – and undoubtedly they had more reason to be outdoors in those uncomfortable temps than I. But even among the grousing, I heard – and felt – a sense of hopefulness even on the nastiest days.
Here we are in March, after all, and even though we northeasterners know that winter has not blown her last unpleasant days our way, we can’t help ourselves. We can’t quell the hope that the idea – just the idea – of spring brings us.
In some ways, this is one of my favorite times of the year – the hope of spring. We still have lots of snow cover – for today anyway - so when the sun shines, it shines bright and sparkly. It’s brisk enough to encourage one to move at a pace that’s brisk enough to warm our muscles and flush our cheeks, but not – usually – biting at noses, ears, fingers, and toes. And the hope of spring season invites us to lace up our boots and get right out there in it!
Last Sunday was such a hope of spring day, the very kind of day that invited me to walk to our favorite weekend breakfast spot – 3.1 miles and 63 minutes on occasionally snowy sidewalks away. I was surprised following that outing how much my shins ached for several days. I’m active, but I haven’t walked 3 miles on pavement for a while and I felt it. ‘Hmm,’ I thought, ‘I’d better work up to that next time.’
The last two days have also been hope of spring days – interspersed on Saturday with big fat fluffy flakes amounting to a fresh inch of sparkles. Remembering my achy shins from the previous few days – all better now – I opted to walk through my back woods, across the fields and through one of our town’s most charming and historic cemeteries. Some pavement, some snow-covered soil, and no pain at all.
That was encouraging – and quite beautiful – so I opted to repeat that route again yesterday. This time I remembered to take my camera, and spent most of my full 63 minutes on the paved cemetery roadways. It was gorgeous! Brilliant light, sharp exposed bones of trees, rushing creek attempting to break through the ice, and a herd of seven deer brave enough to stand and look before showing their white tails as they bounded toward less occupied woods. All captured in digital format!
And today, not a lick of ache in the old shins. It seems I have more reason than just the weather to feel that hope of spring!
May your coming week be filled with hope!
In the course of the last week, our western New York weather has ranged from sunny and balmy 40 degree days to mornings of 3 degrees above zero and wind chills I’d rather not acknowledge. It has certainly not been a dull week!
I’ve heard one or two people grousing about the severe cold weather of Thursday and Friday last week – and undoubtedly they had more reason to be outdoors in those uncomfortable temps than I. But even among the grousing, I heard – and felt – a sense of hopefulness even on the nastiest days.
Here we are in March, after all, and even though we northeasterners know that winter has not blown her last unpleasant days our way, we can’t help ourselves. We can’t quell the hope that the idea – just the idea – of spring brings us.
In some ways, this is one of my favorite times of the year – the hope of spring. We still have lots of snow cover – for today anyway - so when the sun shines, it shines bright and sparkly. It’s brisk enough to encourage one to move at a pace that’s brisk enough to warm our muscles and flush our cheeks, but not – usually – biting at noses, ears, fingers, and toes. And the hope of spring season invites us to lace up our boots and get right out there in it!
Last Sunday was such a hope of spring day, the very kind of day that invited me to walk to our favorite weekend breakfast spot – 3.1 miles and 63 minutes on occasionally snowy sidewalks away. I was surprised following that outing how much my shins ached for several days. I’m active, but I haven’t walked 3 miles on pavement for a while and I felt it. ‘Hmm,’ I thought, ‘I’d better work up to that next time.’
The last two days have also been hope of spring days – interspersed on Saturday with big fat fluffy flakes amounting to a fresh inch of sparkles. Remembering my achy shins from the previous few days – all better now – I opted to walk through my back woods, across the fields and through one of our town’s most charming and historic cemeteries. Some pavement, some snow-covered soil, and no pain at all.
That was encouraging – and quite beautiful – so I opted to repeat that route again yesterday. This time I remembered to take my camera, and spent most of my full 63 minutes on the paved cemetery roadways. It was gorgeous! Brilliant light, sharp exposed bones of trees, rushing creek attempting to break through the ice, and a herd of seven deer brave enough to stand and look before showing their white tails as they bounded toward less occupied woods. All captured in digital format!
And today, not a lick of ache in the old shins. It seems I have more reason than just the weather to feel that hope of spring!
May your coming week be filled with hope!
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