Category Archives: Accompaniment

Tea for the Missions

I once heard a Mennonite missionary tell the following story.  

When he was growing up in the US, their family would, after steeping a tea bag, dry it out on the counter.  When they had a good number, they sent them overseas to families doing relief and development work with Mennonite Central Committee.  The idea was that the missionary would enjoy the tea left over in the bag.

Yes, the gesture was rooted in a place of generosity and one has to marvel at this superlative frugality.  But the error is fairly obvious.  Why didn’t the supporting family just send new tea bags?  Then, the recipient could enjoy the first use themselves, as well as the subsequent use.  

While this seems obvious, I am often guilty of a similar mindset.  That is, generosity often does not receive pride of place in my plans.  

In our culture, big things (career, large projects) are often dedicated to the accumulation of money or status.  The leftovers (of time, money) are for generosity.  Sometimes.  

But what if we committed to the opposite?  What if we offered the big things to generosity?

This is the idea behind our dedication of all profits of Sorin Starts a School to the work of the Holy Cross in Dhaka, and namely the flourishing of Notre Dame University Bangladesh.  

We are pumped to share that we are on schedule and set to ship out the books this May.  Here’s to offering the big things to generosity, to love.

If the Other Side Had a Point

If the “other side,” the people who your inner chatter argues against, had a point… how would you know?  Who do you listen to that would put you in contact with this information?

If complexity is the marker for credibility, we do well to listen widely and constantly update our map of the world based on an accurate perception of reality.

The Mind’s Allergies

My four-year-old was recently gifted a book.

Dan Brown wrote it.  That was the first thing I noticed. “Pooossibly a weird one,” said my snap judgment.  I set it aside.

Some weeks later, my son found it and asked to read it.  

We opened it and were, no joke, entranced for the next hour.

The book is called Wild Symphony.  On each page is a witty poem and (with the free companion app loaded) an orchestral piece, composed by Brown and played by the Zagreb Symphony Orchestra, cleverly introducing the ethos of an animal.  Clues tucked away on each page teach the reader each element of a full orchestra.

The last page features a triumphant musical finale, with each animal playing an instrument that suits them.

Now, both of my sons ask for turns to sit and listen to the music.  They have logged hours of quiet listening to a full orchestra.

So, obviously, my first reaction could not have been more wrong.  It is one more reminder for me to attend to and relinquish my mind’s allergies.  These allergies often close me off from things that might enrich my life.

Particular Friendships

Recently, I was speaking with a life-long friend, a Catholic priest, about how his order considers on-going priestly formation.  One observation focused my interest.

He said that, some time ago, priests were discouraged from forming “particular friendships.”  The rationale was that forming these connections would decrease one’s ability to respond to the needs of the church, to serve where sent.  

My friend reported that the opposite is true today.  Particular friendships are regarded as integral to one’s formation, one’s development as a whole, flourishing person.  

What a gift of insight!  Particular friends are able to know us in the fullness of our history and evolution as a person.  When I consider what is of ultimate value in my life, particular friends who know me in the fullness of my history ranks among the top.

So, let us attend to our particular friendships.  Who we know and who knows us will make all the difference.

PCS Season

In the United States Foreign Service, the acronym “PCS” refers to a “permanent change of station.”  Most often, this means moving from one country to another for a new posting.  

At most posts, summer is “PCS season,” since this is when the majority of moves are scheduled.  

So, over the summer months, 25% of the households in a community can turn over.  And given that the Foreign Service attracts folks of wide life experience, “PCS season” is a chance to meet a lot of new people often.  All I need to do is to show up and learn from the people that the season shuffles into my life.

Wondering what to do about division in our country?  How about declaring your own “PCS season?”  You don’t have to move countries – just put yourself in the path of new people, committing to create expansive relationships.  (This will likely make your Relationship-Garden Audit more interesting.)

Memento Infantia

Memento mori, latin for “remember your death,” is a powerful spiritual practice.  When we recall that we are finite and that life is unpredictable, we can live with singular purpose and focus on the most important things.

Relatedly, I wonder what happens when we stop to memento infantia, “remember your infancy?”  

For me, memento infantia is an occasion to imagine great love.  Though I have no actual “memory” of it, I am certain that my infancy was marked by singularly loving care on my behalf.  Daily, hourly, thoughtful, (sure, imperfect, but nevertheless) faithful love.

If love is the root of all faithfulness, of all trust, we do well to remember our infancy.

Actionable, Specific, and Kind

When I was learning to program, the first thing the instructors taught us was a framework for effective feedback.  The feedback we offered to our partners was to be actionable, specific, and kind. 

And “kind” was not “nice.”  We were not to be vague and falsely flowery.  Instead, we were to courageously offer a partner the gift of constructive feedback, a gift of growth.

Knowing how to give feedback, we were now on the hook to actually offer it when the time came, to take the risk that the exercise implied. 

How often do we, when we see a situation in need of insight and compassion, neglect to even engage the dynamic?  It is far easier to complain about the person concerned or fold our observation into the other noise in our head.

Though it is not easy, the risk of actionable, specific, and kind feedback is a risk worth taking.

Join Them in Their World

I’ve been reading a remarkable book about how to listen and speak to young people.  One suggestion, from a chapter on interacting with children with sensory sensitivity, is to “join the child in their world.”

This strikes me as an exercise that is universally productive for our relationships.  Each of us has an inner world, rich and conflicted, formed by the narratives we rehearse.  Failing to attend to this “world” of another, our communication can fall flat.  Ships pass in the night.

The choice to join a neighbor in their inner world is always available to us.  When we opt for this generous way, the other feels affirmed and known.  Our insight of how to encounter them is refined.  The relationship is strengthened.  We are able to love more skillfully.  

How’s the Moral High Ground?

How is that moral high ground you’ve claimed?

Feels amazing, doesn’t it?  The high of claiming the moral high ground is intoxicating.

The thing is, though, that this high keeps us from actually creating the relationships that would enable generous principles to enter the world.  If stuck on the high ground, we spend time protecting and purifying our position (that is, polishing our idols) which further limits what we are able to see and do.

Often, those who lead the most compelling lives don’t pay all that much attention to the moral high ground.  Certainly, they are principled, but they focus their energy instead on encountering people as they are and inviting them along to build a world in which it is easier to be good.