In July, I wrote about how I'd been "Wobbling" and beginning to re-identify myself to myself. Who am I when I'm visited by emotional overwhelm? Where is my purpose when those I love are struggling? What am I meant to do "with this one wild and precious life?"

When I think about it, this re-identification has been going on for some time. Then Covid happened, and work and life, and world, were transformed, and I began spending more time on these bigger questions...

Have you ever tried to resolve a conflict where one of the parties wasn't all that interested in resolution? Maybe it was you.

Perhaps you acted as if you wanted to find resolution and said all the right things: 

• “Let’s find a way to move forward”
• “I know we can work this out.” 

Maybe you did your best to adopt an inquiring stance, saying things like,

• “Please tell me how you see it.”

But nothing seemed to work because you weren’t really that interested if it meant you had to change—and so you didn’t commit to the process.

When life was easier, I would sometimes look around and wonder how I would manage the things life might throw my way--if and when--life being what it is. "I teach this stuff," I would say. Will I practice it in times that are not so easy? Recently, I found out...

When I watch aikido students in action, I always learn. At a recent seminar at Portsmouth Aikido, the dojo I founded in 1995, I had another opportunity to reinforce an awareness I've written about before.

I'm not often on the mat these days, and it's always an experience in discovery to sit on the sidelines.

For example, as I watched two beginners struggling to get the technique just right, their focus and commitment was intense, and I began to notice my own body tightening. I sensed the tension in the students' bodies as they practiced the technique, and I could feel it in my own as I observed...

It seems that "difficult" conversations are par for the course these days. And even the conversation that starts out easy can turn on a dime. We're all a little on guard, a little careful, in our choice of words, timing, and topics we agree to talk about.

A popular download from my website is an article I wrote 15 years ago called "We Have to Talk: A Step-by-Step Checklist for Difficult Conversations". The Checklist is popular, and I realize after reading it again that I could have added a few more helpful tips, such as setting up the conversation for success, respecting time, and choosing a supportive location. I hope the following will help you hold a conversation that perhaps you've been putting off in a way that supports all parties.

Indeed.

I visit curiosity often in these posts. Curiosity--a key communication skill that helps us manage our ki (energy) in times of stress, struggle, and conflict.

One of my favorite curiosity stories was written back in August, 2013: "I'd Actually Have to Be Curious!" I was reminded of the story recently when my husband said: "I'm just curious," and asked me a question like, "What makes you want to do it that way?" 

Recently, I was playing with my niece and nephews, 4-year-old triplets full--really full--of rambunctious energy. It was total fun, and they wore me out. At one point, as I saw them headed my way for more playtime, I suggested we all take a breath.

I demonstrated what I meant by breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. After a few conscious breaths, I invited them to "play" along.

There was an immediate change...

I was walking with a friend who said she'd been having trouble sleeping. I listened for a bit and then began to share some practices I thought would be helpful when she wakes up in the middle of the night. We're good friends and our relationship weathered this advice-giving diversion on my part. She told me she appreciated the intervention, but what she really wanted was for me to hear her frustration. 

Have you ever "shifted" a conversation to yourself and your story when you thought you were empathizing, helping, or adding relevance? ...

I read again one of my posts from 2012. Life Is What You Make It: Constructing Meaning tells a story of my aunt Mary (Mimi, as we lovingly called her). She was a special person in my life, an encourager, teacher, loving supporter, and never-ending inspiration.

As I read the 2012 post, one paragraph took me aback....

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

—Mary Oliver**

Something there is that doesn't love a wall....

--Robert Frost*

I have been gifted recently with opportunities to think about life, what life is about and for, and what I in particular am here to do with my "one wild and precious life." 

This past year a good, good friend died too young, a close family member became quite ill, another is aging physically and emotionally, and yet another is suffering grief over an ailing child....