Dry Canyon, Utah

Dry Canyon With Zoe 090114

One of the things that I love about living in Utah is that I have access to some very open spaces. Places to hike. To roam. To find some quiet. To be in a different kind of time.

This picture is one of those places for me. It was from early September, up Dry Canyon in Lindon, and along the Bonneville Shoreline Trail towards Provo Canyon. Yes, this is dry. It is an area to be careful with. Long, dry grasses at this time of year. This is looking south towards Provo and a little blurry bit of Utah Lake.

It was particularly fun for me this day, a hike with my daughter Zoe, our last before she would leave for a study abroad program.

Tweets of the Weeks

 

The Gift You Carry For Others

I like this paragraph from Bill Plotkin’s book Soulcraft. I used it to close a two-day team retreat that I was hosting last week.

“The gift you carry for others is not an attempt to save the world but to fully belong to it. It’s not possible to save the world by trying to save it. You need to find what is genuinely yours to offer the world before you can make it a better place. Discovering your unique gift to bring to your community is your greatest opportunity and challenge. The offering of that gift, your true self, is the most you can do to love and serve the world. And, it is all the world needs.”

Don’t Blame Each Other for Complexity

I’ve been writing a lot the last month, organizing a draft of an Art of Hosting resource book, customized for some of the faith community people I’ve worked with the last three years. Part of that includes description of useful principles and agreements.

One such principle that I’ve noticed important in a number of environments is our overall relationship with complexity. Limited to one paragraph, I found myself writing this:

Don’t blame each other for complexity. What if complexity were just complexity? Multiple relations in multiple networks of people in multiple timelines that don’t always line up conveniently. As human beings, we try to look for simplifications in our plans. Often, we project our desire for a kind of simplicity onto situations that will never be as simple as we like. It’s a bit like saying rocket science is as simple as a match and some fuel. That may be true at some level, but isn’t particularly useful. When a situation gets messy, most of us look for reasons to explain why things aren’t clear. Most of us are accustomed to a kind of blame or attribution of fault. Without releasing an essential need for accountability, what if we were to acknowledge that complexity rarely requires blame, but rather, always requires adaptation. We laugh when the predicted sunny day turns to showers. Though we may be frustrated that the picnic doesn’t go as planned, there aren’t too many of us that hold weather forecasters to a certainty of prediction. We bring an umbrella, or put it away, and move on. Moving on feels like a core competency. Letting go of blame is a spiritual practice. Complexity is just complexity.