You Can’t Wash the Other Side of the Window

Webinar Replay HERE

Even with all my spiritual leanings (sometimes critiqued as “crackpot beliefs”), even I don’t believe everything is an omen.

Nonetheless, in the last few days, I’ve had not only a butterfly appear in my living room and land on my notebook, but also the largest dragonfly I’ve ever seen, one that was about 6 inches long.

After I managed to safely release it, a quick google search revealed that’s pretty much as large as the species get.

Even in that moment though, I knew it was unusual and amazing.

The dragonfly looks depressed but I swear seconds later he flew away

An even rarer potential omen occurred when I returned home from my annual physical and caught the final fleeting second of another once-a-year phenomenon:

A window washer scaffolding down the building, completing the cleaning of my office windows.

Another 30 seconds later, and I would have missed him entirely.

Somehow, I managed to capture his last streaks before he slid down the ropes to the floor below, wiping away grime and brightening their views as well.

I wonder if, had I not seen him, I would have even noticed the window washer had been there.

Since there’s absolutely no way for me to wash the exterior of these windows, I simply have to apply the Serenity Prayer and accept them as something I cannot change (or clean).

I also can’t help but recall the Bible verse from 1 Corinthians:

“For now we see through a glass, darkly.”

Authors as diverse as Agatha Christie, George Orwell, Margaret Atwood, and J.D. Salinger have referred to the line in their works, interpreting it in different ways to essentially mean that our understanding of all the Big Stuff—life, truth, and God—is severely limited.

The next line in the verse offers hope that someday that knowledge will be complete, that “then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.

But sometimes I wonder if that day and that level of knowledge––and of being truly known––will ever arrive…

I loved teaching the webinar about Playing Your “A’ Game this week.

You can watch the 30 minute replay HERE.

Spoiler alert: The “A” is for Accountability.

I began the workshop by restating something I’ve written about earlier this month, that some people rebel against the word “Accountability” because it makes them feel shackled.

But what if we reframe the concept? 

Instead of seeing it as a restrictive force, let’s consider accountability an empowering willingness to accept responsibility for our actions. 

Accountability, at its core, is about powerfully stepping up to own what we do and what we don’t do.

It’s a chance to see ourselves, in other words, in a mirror that’s more brightly lit.

My friend Maurice took this shot of my birthday dropback ritual 2 years ago.
It was his idea to find the perfect reflection.

Speaking of Mirrors, I’m drawn to sharing Sylvia Plath’s amazing poem with that title.

As always, Plath explores the tumultuous nature of identity, using a mirror as an impartial observer that reflects the truth without judgment. 

Unlike much of her other work, here she shifts the focus from purely internal experiences to an outside object, but one that reflects the self back to the observer.

It’s beautiful and devastating.

Mirror

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful‚
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.”

One of the most powerful things about working with a coach is that things are reflected back to you in ways you can’t see for yourself.

Last week I shared how the image I wanted to take of Vlad––his full body leaping into the air to capture a ball––could only happen if I had a friend separated from me across the field toss the ball while captured it with my iPhone.

Trying to do it all by myself was doomed to failure because of the speed and different angle required.

In working with someone as a coach, something similar applies but in more profound ways.

Yes, there’s a lot of basic stuff about defining and achieving goals, but ideally it starts with someone recognizing who you really are and who you can become.

As my great friend the amazing author/artist SARK reminds us:

If you let yourself be truly seen, 
then you can be truly loved.

Especially during challenging times such as when you’re launching a new project or struggling to reinvent yourself, that can be difficult.

Indeed, in that same spirit, the poet Billy Collins shares that “Usually I try to create a hospitable tone at the beginning of a poem.”

That’s because:

“Stepping from the title to the first lines

is like stepping into a canoe.

A lot of things can go wrong.” 

In The Mirror, Plath witnesses the journey from youth to old age, but even more minor transitions require compassion.

Returning to Billy Collins, in his poem On Turning Ten, a young boy reveals that he misses “the perfect simplicity of being one and the beautiful complexity introduced by two,” declaring that

At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.

He concludes by lamenting that:

“It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.

As I draw to a close, again, the link for the webinar replay is HERE.

I’m confident you’ll find some very solid (albeit slightly quirky) tips about being more Accountable in your Adventures.

And, if it speaks to your heart, as of this writing there are 3 slots left for the 12-week Accountability Program.

If it resonates, I invite you to dive deep and join me. 

Remember, there are photographs you can’t take by yourself.

And sometimes you really can’t clean the other side of the window (and such an opportunity only happens once a year).

Most importantly, whether we end up working together or not, I’d like you to be seen in a way that truly empowers you.

Through those eyes, perhaps you’ll reconnect with the possibility that maybe there really is nothing underneath your skin but light, and that when life cuts you, you can still shine…maybe even more brightly.

Namaste for Now,

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