It’s Fall. September is kickoff season. Literally. Summer is over and it’s time to get back to work, go back to school, launch new programs, watch a football game (did you see the University of Michigan beat Notre Dame last Saturday? That’ll give you goosebumps. Go Blue!)
Beginning September 25, my own travel season begins. Conferences, seminars, retreats and the like. . .
One client called me today to confirm my “topic.” “What can you share that will really make a difference in people’s lives?”
Now, that gave me pause. Not that I don’t have a dozen or more “topics” to choose from. But it’s not just about a topic. (Because “the question” is never the question.) The client is asking about “deliverables.” What will people learn (or get or discover) that will make this event worthwhile?
Fair enough. Money is being spent, and there is pressure to make sure that the event has value.
However. What we create–I hope–is not merely a data exchange. Yes, there are insights to be gained. It feels good to walk away from a seminar or conference and say, “Wow, I never knew that before.”
But here’s the deal: adding information is not enough. Life begins when we make the journey from our head, to our heart.
Oddly, this kind of freedom is only accomplished indirectly. It cannot be forced or coerced. It is born, when the time is right. Or in a garden metaphor, when the soil is right.
The poet May Sarton was asked what she wanted “to be” when she “grew up.” She replied simply, “To be human.”
Not bad.
To be human is about regaining what has been lost in the shuffle when life has been relegated to keeping score and making waves. I used to ask myself and others: What have you accomplished? What are your credentials? Now, my questions are different:
Are there butterflies in your garden? Do sunsets make you smile? When was the last time you stood in stocking feet just to stare at the rising moon? Does the laughter of children do your heart good?
So. What is my topic?
To simplify.
To live simply.
To simply live.
I would be honored if you joined me at one of these fall events. Check it out on my site. Pass the word.
Bring a friend. Bring an open heart. And bring your dancing shoes.
We spend most of our time and energy in a kind of horizontal thinking. We move along the surface of things…but, there are times when we must stop. We sit still. We lose ourselves in a pile of leaves or in its memory. We listen, and breezes from a whole other world begin to whisper. James Carroll
5 Comments
To paraphrase you: Did you see the University of Alabama beat Penn State last Saturday? Roll Tide!
Yes I did. . .making me smile. . .
My Florida Gator friends have already called me to plug their alma mater.
Hi Mr. Hershey. The timing of your post is somewhat synchronistic for me. I just returned (literally about 3 hours ago) from a weekend retreat–my first ever–that began late Friday afternoon and went through mid-afternoon today. It was a mixed experience for me; no doubt this is more about me rather than the Retreat House or the leader, but there was a palpable change at a given moment for me when the peace (prior to this moment, I was thoroughly enjoying the beautiful grounds and environment) and pause and restoration was thrown into a bit of turmoil and anxiety for me personally. It was a “silent” and “directed” retreat–both were very nice elements, but I’m not so sure about the “making a difference” part yet. ☺ Who knows? That may still be to come–the whole seed and soil thing, I suppose.
That said, I can’t imagine a formal retreat structured in such a manner that would not ultimately present or offer a challenge or call-to-action of sorts for the retreatants, or to use your phrase, drive to “make a difference,” but the “deliverable” I was hoping for got short circuited. Such is life. On the other hand, as someone who makes his living, pays his bills, essentially takes care of his family through being a business leader in the dizzy-with-busy world of Corporate America where everything is about “deliverables,” I’m tempted (what a word, huh?) to think that “retreats” would be best served if the highly charged verbiage and expectations associated with standard fare business or just plain ole “secular” world reasoning (not that this is wrong) were checked-in at the front door. (I say this as someone who understands and agrees that outcomes and deliverables and goals and objectives, etc., are important, but truth be told (as a function of experience) these concepts have been in many ways hijacked and are ultimately about “pedal-to-the-medal” productivity.)
At least the Rockies are in the hunt for the NL West pennant! They are tied right now 6-6 with the Dodgers in the bottom of the 11th. ☺
Constantine. Good reflections. Since I “lead” a lot of retreats, I see how easy it is for the “measurement” component to be hijacked. It’s as if there is only a specific certain currency available for such a mental “transaction.” (Everybody wants a “mountain top” experience.) Years ago, when I was still in local church work, there was something called the “Church Growth Movement.” It married American business to the measurement of what’s makes a “successful” church (it was also the birth of our mega-churches, and “seeker” churches which see members of the congregation primarily as consumers). I have nothing against counting heads or dollars. Nor do I have anything against some kind of quality control (there is no need to pass off substandard using the excuse that it is “ministry”). But the Jesus model re: success doesn’t work well through our modern western lens. He left 99 sheep to find one lost sheep. Not cost effective. And very difficult to explain to the Board. In either case, most of the powerful work of the Spirit is thankfully outside our parameter to control (and measure).
In my case, whenever I lead a retreat, I ask people to verbalize their expectations and hoped for deliverables. . .and then to be willing to give them up, and to be quite possibly surprised in a way they didn’t imagine. Which may mean going the entire weekend with no element of surprise. . .and being okay with that.
With regard to your Rockies. . .well, being a Seattle Mariner fan, I can tell you that we wish there was no keeping score. . .
I think your approach is a healthy one—to be prepared for the element of no surprise. Being present is the gift, if only recognized and accepted. I imagine a genuine “mountain top” experience would be rare. I know I didn’t expect one. The “road to Damascus” yields different things for different folks. My recent “short circuit” experience was the result of an old theological wound surfacing a bit as opposed to an expectation not being met.