You'll Be Fine

I have a terrific rowing coach.
She is a teacher by profession, and is quite focused when it comes to our practices. She always has a plan for how she is going to push us to higher levels in our rowing development, and her self-assurance consistently comes across in her work. Nothing seems to rattle her. 

In observing her coaching, I've noticed a particular behavior of hers. When she engages our team in a new challenge and encounters an insecure hesitation on our part -- stemming from either a novice rower's lack of confidence, or a seasoned rower's uncertainty of the challenge -- she says to us, with a calm, steady voice, "You'll be fine."

She doesn't say it dismissively or in a patronizing way. She simply states the words as fact: "You'll be fine." With these words, she simultaneously communicates her belief in our abilities and the conviction of her experience that tells her this is true. Even if we are unsure about what's going to happen, her confidence is so strong, we trust her and move forward. And you know what? We are fine.

When this happened again the other night at practice, it made me think of a time I experienced an event that threw me into turmoil. The rug had been pulled out from under my feet and I couldn't seem to steady myself. Then a friend of mine spoke similar words to me; he said, "Kay, everything is going to be alright." At that moment, I could feel peace coming into my body -- almost involuntarily. I don't recall whether or not I believed what he was saying, but I do remember the difference it made for me to hear those words from him.  

I think sometimes we just need to be reassured about what is to come -- to be told that we're going to be ok -- because in the moments of upheaval, uncertainty, or heartbreak, deep down inside we are so wanting that to be true. But it is beyond what we can think for ourselves. We need someone else to believe it for us. We need them to do what my coach does -- to draw on their experience of the bigger picture and impart their confidence to us.

Generally in these times of doubt, I am most comforted when I sense God reminding me it is His constant presence and unconditional love that will make everything alright. I also experience tremendous comfort in the reassurance of another human being.

Today you might be in that place of uncertainty from being challenged to a new level, or maybe your life has become completely undone. If this is so, please allow my words to reach inside you and strengthen you in moving forward. Although the answers for your situation may not be currently visible to you, what I do know of life -- and the faithfulness of God -- permits me to follow in my coach's footsteps and tell you that somehow, when all is said and done, you'll be fine.

Wishing you people in your life to believe this for you,
Kay
www.confidentconflict.com

Hurricanes

I live in Central Florida where hurricanes are a fact of life. 
Every year from June through November (hurricane season), the possibility of these storms invades our everyday existence.  

Initially, the idea of a hurricane was pretty disturbing to me -- this massive storm, full of power and energy, descending upon my home. But that was before we moved here. Once I came to Florida, I discovered a few things.

I learned that our meteorologists start tracking the storms when they are far away in the Atlantic, so we know several days in advance when one is coming. I learned that all the various weather conditions can be predictors of the storm's path, so we can have an educated guess where it might make landfall, and I learned there were things I could do to effectively protect my home and family. 

This was good news to me. Somehow it made me feel less at the mercy of nature and the possible turmoil that came with the storm. I could prepare; I could learn some good practices, and certainly, with each hurricane I experienced, I became smarter about how to weather the next one.  

The same thing happened to me when I was studying about conflict. What I knew of trying to work through relational difficulties was how I viewed hurricanes: this was a big powerful storm that happened all of a sudden, and I was ruled by the chaos that accompanied it. But then again, I learned some things.  

I learned that relational conflicts are simply a fact of life. I learned that there are predictors of when they can happen so we can prepare and develop good practices. Best of all, I learned that with each experience, we can become better at handling these difficulties the next time around.

As long as I live in Florida, hurricanes will be something for me to contend with, and as long as I have relationships with other human beings, conflicts will be too. Even though I don't have total control over them, what gives me hope on both of these fronts is the knowledge that I am not defenseless either and that I can actively weather them come what may.

Here's to your learning about the hurricanes in your life too!   

Kay
www.confidentconflict.com

Roses

People who are close to me know that I love roses.  
I love their gorgeous colors (including the white ones); I love their fragrance. I love that they change from a tightly wrapped bud into open flowers even in my living room.

I love going to the April Rose Show at Leu Gardens here in Orlando, and if there's a rose garden anywhere in the world where I happen to be traveling, I try to visit it. I love the rose bushes my husband so kindly planted for me in our front yard.

Often when I work with these flowers -- either with the bushes in my yard or when someone gives me long-stemmed ones to put in my favorite vase -- I invariably prick my finger on the thorns. Sometimes more than once. It's pretty painful and usually produces bright red blood on my finger. One day, I seemed to do this an inordinate number of times and I thought, "Why do I put myself through this? There are other flowers to like that don't have any thorns at all!" and my mind immediately responded: "For the beauty." I thought about that for a moment -- it was true. I endure the roses' pricks and pain (and the special tending the bushes require), because I see such beauty in them, and having that beauty in my life overshadows any sacrifice I need to make to keep it there.

The experience made me think about people, and how each of us is like the rose: a combination of the beauty and the thorns -- both wonderfulness and the capacity to hurt others. We are constantly answering the question in our relationships of whether having a person's beauty in our life is worth resolving the pain they may have caused us. We may even wonder if we have it in us to deal with the pricks, the hurts. It is then that we need to be propelled by the beauty within them again. We need to see their faithfulness, their friendship, and their love.

I know that I love the rose's beauty so much I will pay the price to keep it within my gaze, and I definitely have people in my life I very easily feel that way about already. But I want to try and remember this when it's not so clear to me -- when I'm tempted to throw in the towel, when I'm finding it hard to push through pain and restore a relationship with someone. In those times, I want to remember to see their beauty, and allow it to overshadow the sacrifice that might be required do this. I want to believe it is worth the struggle to keep that beauty in my life, worth enduring the thorns.

After all, isn't that what I am hoping others will see and believe about me?

Kay
www.confidentconflict.com

Treasure

A couple of days ago I opened a fortune cookie from my Chinese take-out and the small piece of paper inside said, “Treasure what you have.”

It was interesting timing for me because for a few days I’d been focusing on something I didn’t have and feeling pretty sad about it (well, it was actually grief over something I’ve lost). The little fortune felt like a splash of cold water in my face, jolting me out of my frame of mind. 

What seemed to do it was the word “treasure.” It wasn’t “remember” what you have, or “think about” what you have, it was “treasure” -- cherish, hold dear, prize. It spoke to me of more than simply listing the things I had to be grateful for, but of taking it a step even further. Treasuring comes from a deeper place within us. We almost have to stop whatever it is we’re doing to really treasure something, or someone, to quietly think about the precious value they bring to our life.  

I’ve noticed that when we focus on what we don’t have, it weakens us. We feel like our life is “less than.” Like when we say the proverbial glass is half empty, we feel, well . . empty. In that mindset, we’re operating from a deficit. When we recognize what we do have, we get stronger, and when we truly prize those things – when we cherish them -- the connection can strengthen us even more.  

The Bible tells us that Jesus said, “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21); I think many of us have experienced that. As much as I am missing the "treasure” I have lost in my life right now, I don’t want my heart to be there -- with what I don’t have -– I want it to be here, with what I do have.

It was a good note in the cookie. I will probably think about it often in the days to come, particularly when I start drifting into feeling sad again about what’s missing. I’m confident though that I’ll work at remembering what is still here, and holding it very dearly . . . in my heart.

Wishing you quiet moments to treasure what you have,

Kay
www.confidentconflict.com