I know exactly what I need (and want!) to change in my life, and I try, but I just can't do it! Ever had a feeling like that?
Enter the power of crossing a threshold.
When it happened, my wife and I were standing in the kitchen next to a simmering pot of coconut curry soup. It was Fall workday dusk in New York City, that shimmering in-between time when the ambition of the city gives way to its inexplicable peace.
We had a full-presence conversation—you know, one of those intense (while not fighting) and loving (while not cuddling) exchanges.
It was about a dinner we had with our guests last weekend. How did the evening go, what did we notice, stuff like that. As we stood in the middle of the kitchen, an issue emerged, gently, seemingly from nowhere, namely my propensity to take up space with words.
It has been a problem, for years, limiting me relationally, professionally, and spiritually. It touched the nerve.
She grew silent. I grew silent. We were...
…to my family, friends, and acquaintances.
You know how we sometimes assume that everyone knows what goes on inside of us? Until we realize that we have not made our heart and mind visible at all.
Recently, I've received an email from a friend (an excerpt):
“When I first met you, I had the impression that you were this sort of inherently caring humanist, so I am sad to see that you are not that way after all, or any longer. You charge money - lots of it - for the soul-searching that pastors supposedly deliver to their congregation for free, asking only for camaraderie and collegiality in living this life, and spreading the love of God. I typically withhold judgment of others' pursuits, but seeing your evolution over the years into a person who commercializes the wisdom inherent in loving God the way that you do, has made me sad.”
Reading this, I felt misunderstood and realized that this cloud is hanging over what I have decided to do with my life. And that is up...