For the past couple of months, my brain has been working on two posts for this space. Now I may never post either of them, and I’m not entirely sure why.

​One involves the 2024 election—how it’s the first election in which I have a deeply personal stake in who wins. The other concerns the Israel-Gaza war. Even though I’ve mulled both of these at length, I cannot shake a sickish feeling deep within my chest, the sense that these are not yours to post.

Israel-Gaza has inspired thoughts in me from the beginning, many of which I haven’t seen articulated in mainstream or social media. So there might be value in saying (posting) them out loud. But they have a certain reserve from the raw events on the ground, as though they come from my head and not my heart. They feel like what I’ve called “the arrogance of the abstract.”

The election post has run into its own quagmire. Here I am, having voted since 1976, and it takes till 2024 for me to have a deeply personal stake? This makes my observations feel like small potatoes compared with those whose lives could be upended by every election, especially people on the margins. My post feels too me-centered right now, too removed from the larger landscape.

Neither post, at this point, would do what I believe this blog (and my whole vocation) want to do: to spur myself and others to explore certain aspects of life as honestly and openheartedly as we can, within ourselves and with one another.  

It may seem like overthinking to ponder this question in today’s “post everything” social media landscape. On the contrary, it’s precisely today’s social media landscape that makes this kind of pondering useful.* So…how do you decide when to speak, or post, and when to keep your thoughts to yourself?
 
 
*Here I’m alluding to the suggestion (original source and wording unknown) to ask yourself three questions before saying anything: Is it true? Is it useful? Is it kind? Do you use this formula? How has it worked for you? 

A few years ago, I utterly blew a Zoom presentation.

​On the third sentence I forgot what to say. I spent long painful moments shuffling my script. My voice lapsed into a monotone and stayed there the whole 20 minutes. I kept looking at the webcam, per expert advice, and got further disoriented.

​Right afterward, I knew exactly what had happened. The presentation took place on the day of a time-zone change, and time-zone changes unhinge me. Because of said change, I didn’t realize the presentation time was also my body’s lunchtime, so I launched into the speech ravenous. Oh, and I’d had zero experience formally presenting on Zoom.

Great lessons, right? Clearly the next step was to absorb them and move on.

Oh no. Instead I spent two years thinking I am a bad speaker, and I will never present in public again.

In other words, I got myself stuck.

Now I knew this wasn’t true. I’d presented enough to have complete confidence that my public speaking ability is absolutely…OK. Not Barack Obama, not Billy Graham, but not bad. All that evidence should have nipped stuckness in the bud. But it didn’t.

Has this ever happened to you? Ever get stuck in a view of yourself that isn’t accurate, and it holds you back?

I don’t have a nice three-point presentation on How to Get Unstuck. In my case, a dream highlighted my stuckness in rather vivid detail. I journaled about the dream, the lessons I’d learned from that invaluable experience two years ago, and the view of myself I need to take forward: i.e., my OKness in in-the-flesh formats (jury’s still out on Zoom).

Of course, your mileage to getting unstuck may vary. But I’d love to hear your experience if you’re willing to share. How have you gotten stuck, and how did you get out? Feel free to email me, respond in the Comments section, or share it on Facebook. 

A wise friend of mine posts thought-provoking “questions of the week” on Facebook. Last week’s question provoked an answer from me, and it’s got me thinking again about the difference I can and can’t make in the world. Because this feels so right for the blog, I’ve reproduced it here (with slight edits). I’d love to hear what you think of this.

My friend’s question:
What’s the thing you feel most powerless or helpless about?

My response:
I'm getting to a point where I feel powerless about the things I AM powerless about--specifically, things where my one-person's best contribution cannot begin to address the scale of the problem. Climate change. The rush to AI without proper reflection. The horrific state of polarization in the U.S. The resurgence of totalitarianism.

I look at these problems and think, (a) I cannot change their course by myself, and (b) as a species or nation, etc., we're probably screwed—or at least headed for a worse place than we inhabited several decades ago.

This sounds like despair but it is emphatically not. I THINK it's coming from a deep place in my Zen practice. What it does is liberate me to set the big problems aside and be my best self, do my best work, to serve the people and causes I can actually make a difference with. As an older nonbinary person, for instance, I can model what that's like to the world. As a writer, I can address issues that sit deep in my heart, without a thought of whether my writing will change the world. As a bireligious person (Christian and Zen), I can model interfaith bridge building by BEING interfaith bridge building. Etc.

Bottom line, I feel powerless over a lot of things, because I am. And seeing that fact releases what power I do have.

My question to you, dear reader:
What do you think? Feel free to email me, post your thoughts in the Comments section, or put them on Facebook. 

Who are the channel markers in your life?
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Over the years I’ve had several “channel markers” of the human kind. Like keeping an eye on buoys to steer your boat safely, I watch how these people conduct some aspect of their lives that sets a standard I want to meet. Then I steer myself according to what I see in them.

​Sometimes the standard is written down, and my channel markers excel at meeting it. When raising guinea pigs, we specialized in a couple of particular breeds and colors. Our animals eventually became quite good, according to the written Standard of Perfection. But two or three breeders were justly known as the finest in the U.S. for what we raised. When given the chance, I’d watch what these breeders were showing, and use them as channel markers for my own efforts. Was the color on my animals rich enough? Could I improve the body shape? Just by doing what they did, these folks inspired me to do better.

Sometimes the standard is less clear. About 10 years ago I worked for a consultancy that applied the principles of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) to organizations. One of my co-workers had been involved in this work for many years. A Black woman, Carol approached many DEI issues with a vigor and mode of thought that never would have occurred to me. I didn’t always agree with her, but I could see how much more she knew and had experienced. So, as I did my own internal work on DEI, I’d look over to see what she was doing, how she thought about this or that, and (I hope) my own sensitivity grew.

The funny thing about my channel markers is they’re not necessarily my best friends. In some cases they’re not even alive. One of my go-to channel markers is a French nun who died some 125 years ago. If not for her penetrating autobiography, St. Thérèse of Lisieux would have been lost to history. Between that book, her letters, her last conversations, and even her poetry, she detailed a way of spirituality that I’ve drawn wisdom from for years.

Bottom line, I see something in these people that I need in my life, so I keep an eye out.

What about you? Who are your channel markers? How does keeping an eye on them guide you? Do they know they serve this role for you? 

It has been 19 months since my last blog post.

I don’t mean that as an apology. A great deal has happened in those months, and it’s turned my life into a non-blogging direction. As if that weren’t enough, the climate for authentic dialogue in the U.S. (at least) has deteriorated further, and quite honestly, it’s discouraged me. The waste of words in the public square these days is vast, and I find myself wanting to run in the opposite direction.

However…I miss the conversations with friends and colleagues. I learned a great deal from you in the process. And maybe the vast waste of words means that good words—yours and mine—are more needed than ever.

So let’s give this a go. I make no guarantees of blog frequency, or topic, or much else with regard to this blog. I do know that if it’s going to work at all, it has to begin in the depths of my own heart. That’s a pretty mysterious place, so there’s no telling what might come out. Here, however, are a few close-to-my-hearts you might see:
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• Because I’m nonbinary, issues of gender identity (including the concerns of trans people) matter deeply to me.
• Because of my spiritual practice, you may see posts drawing from the rich traditions of Christian mysticism and Zen.
• Because I struggle to manage long COVID, I may write about that, and chronic illness more generally.
• I am deeply tired of political and social issues. However, when the brouhaha over whatever issue has missed a key question, or a new way of thinking about it, I may wade into those waters.

More important: what would you like to see addressed here? What kinds of conversations would you like to have? Without the rich back-and-forths that you and others have fostered over the years, there’s not much point to a blog. So please let me know (in the Comments section, on Facebook, or by private email) what would matter to you.