Be the Change

Yesterday, my sister was amazed at my brilliant parenting skills (ha!) as I stopped a squabble between my children regarding a shared snack and one pair of sunglasses in the afternoon sun. I quickly put a towel over their heads and suggested that they eat their snack in a tent. Squabble over (at least until the first child knocked the new form of shelter off his or her head.) I don’t credit brilliant parenting for this result; I credit change. From childhood misunderstandings to greater personal woes, change may be just what is called for to make life a happier experience.

The example of the towel over the head is simple redirection that children easily tend to accept. Redirection is not complicated, but can lead to positive change and even giggles. Adults need redirection, too; perhaps all that is needed is a change of scenery (or a towel over the head); just taking a walk around the block can often lead to clarity of mind and heart.

I believe subtle changes we make in our lives can have ripple effects that lead to greater change around us. These moments of pause, these redirections, often enable us to get out of our own way. They give the Divine the opportunity to open our eyes, open our hearts, open our ears, open our minds to paths untaken or perhaps even unimagined.

If our normal response to irritation is to rise to anger or become defensive, I wonder what might happen if instead we took a deep breath and paused before responding with gentleness or empathy? Or, what if our response is always silence? What might happen if we spoke up? What kind of greater change might these redirections present to ourselves or the people around us?

In Christian denominations following liturgical seasons, it is the season of Lent, a time when a lot of people are thinking about change. They’ve either given things up or added daily practices such as journaling, exercising or praying in the hopes of bringing positive changes to their lives and to others as we approach Easter and the celebration of new life, new awareness and greater connection to ourselves and our relationships with God.

I also know that during this season there are many people facing other great and perhaps unexpected or unplanned changes in their lives: the loss of a loved one, the birth of a new child, a new marriage, a divorce, a move, a job transition, an illness. 

It is each person’s choice in how they will respond to change. I have been inspired by the strength, faith and energy expressed by the people in my life facing particular changes as of late. They’ve looked upon these new chapters in their lives with hope and are letting go of what may have kept them from being fully engaged in their last chapters. They are embracing wholeness and enabling God to empower them for what lies ahead. Their positive radiance is beauty to behold.

Major change doesn’t happen over night. Usually it’s thoughtfully (often times tearfully) considered over a long period of time before we’re able to let go and let God help us through what needs to be done to open new chapters in our lives. Sometimes it’s not major change that is needed; we may just need a slight shift.

Michael Jackson’s song “Man in the Mirror,” suggests that if you want change, start with the “man in the mirror.” This is a favorite song of the girls in my Thursday Theological Thinkers group, and I’m always amazed at how often I get into the car after one of our discussions and find it playing on the radio.

So here for your enjoyment and inspiration is Michael Jackson and his lyrics with tribute to Ghandi, who said, “If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. ... We need not wait to see what others do.” The short version… be the change you wish to see in the world.

With love and light,

LT

In the Back of the Room

Early in life, my mother gave me the choice between gymnastics or dance lessons. I had to choose one. I remember it being a tough decision, but I ultimately choose dance. I alternated between teal green matching tights and leotard and a sky blue ensemble and enthusiastically arrived for each dance lesson prepared for what instruction awaited me on those wooden floors.

Over the years, my lessons increased from two days a week to every day of the week. I delighted in each class whether it be tap, jazz or ballet and expanded my studies to include two different dance studios.

It may sound cliché, but when I dance it truly is for the love of dance. I love the way I can feel every muscle in my body tightening or releasing into the correct shape or movement. It feels like strength and balance and beauty all at once. Everything is in the right place if only for a moment before changing to the next position. It is energizing and empowering and joyful. The beat of the music courses through my body and my muscles surprise me as they move to the rhythm. In a word, it just feels good.

I can still do all of my time steps and gracefully glissade across a floor, but the dance lesson that strikes a chord the most strongly with me is not a dance lesson at all; it just took place during a dance class.

At some point during high school, some of the coming-of-age social issues I had struggled with seemed to compound. I can’t put my finger on exactly what was causing my anxiety at the time. It was too long ago and being a teenager can be confusing. I know that there was a boyfriend. There were also girls that weren’t too pleased about the boyfriend. There were friends that turned out not to be friends and there were comparisons to others that didn’t quite seem to fit me. It was confusing. I was sad.

At my dance classes, I started to move but not with the music. I started to move to the back of the room. Without saying anything from week to week, I moved myself from the front row to the middle row and finally to the back where I lifelessly executed the required steps. It didn’t seem to matter. I was still back there participating. I didn’t think much of it actually. I was pretty wrapped up in just being sad.

Then, one day, I was surprised. After a week or so of hanging out in the back row, my dance instructor Mr. Joel, walked straight towards me in the middle of a class and said these words to me, “What are you doing here in the back?” That was it; that was all he said, and he walked away. It was just enough though. It shocked me out of my pity party. Wow!

Those simple words, “What are you doing here in the back?” made me realize that I had put myself there. No one else had put me there. I had taken my joy away from myself. I had separated myself from one of the greatest gifts I had been given at that point in my life.  I was shocked…at myself.

Mr. Joel’s words took the wind out of my lungs, but they also did more than that. They blew away the selfish sadness I had used to cloud my judgment. Although, I wasn’t completely healed of my anxieties, those words inspired me to take ownership for my role in letting those anxieties get the better of me. They allowed me to say that I could control my happiness as well as my success.

I didn’t want a cloud of confusion or sadness to get the better of me anymore.

As slowly as I had moved to the back of the room, I began moving to the front of the room again. By the end of my senior year, I was dancing wholeheartedly again and I felt good again. I felt successful.

When the senior awards were announced at the end-of-the-year recital, I clapped proudly as a friend of mine was recognized for her great skills and dedication. She deserved it! What I didn’t expect was to have my name mentioned as a close and second runner up. It was quite an honor as well as recognition of those slow steps that I took back to the front of the room.

You see the thing is, no one else can put you in the back of the room and no one else can put you in the front of it again except for you. It’s a very hard concept, especially when you’re sitting in the back. But believe me, you can do it. You may be surprised or shocked when someone points it out to you but be glad and do something about it! Only you can!

·      Think of the ways you put yourself in the back of the room at school, at work or socially.

·      Have you gone back and forth? What did you learn from each of these experiences?

·      What talents do you or do you not live into that bring you joy?