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....

Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.

 — Robert Brault

You may have noticed I like to write about gratitude. I think it's because gratitude is one way I center myself, remember what's important in my life, and return to the present moment. 

This time of year, in particular, as we head into Thanksgiving and the December holidays, I ask myself and my readers to think about the ways we are already blessed, things we may be blind to because they’re always there, and to name them....

It's a very ancient saying, but a true and honest thought, that if you become a teacher, by your pupils you'll be taught.

-- Getting to Know You, The King and I

I love the truth of this song from The King and I. I always learn more from my students and from the people I coach than I impart. Yes, I'm the instructor. I share concepts, tools, skills, and experiences from Aikido. It's the student, however, who is the expert in their life. Only they have the wisdom and ability to implement what they're learning. They understand the difficulty of their conflict in ways I cannot, and how what they're experiencing on the mat might apply in their everyday life (or not).

Recently I was privileged to work with college students whose professor assigned them the task of journaling about their experience on the mat after the class was over (we were fortunate to have real mats and practice physical Aikido). 

As I read through their journal entries, I knew what my next post would be. I hope you learn as much from the writing of these young  people as I did. Names have been changed. Sentiments are real....

“Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.” 
― Rumi

Recently I was in a group under a tent on a beautiful day. The purpose of the gathering was to celebrate a beloved soul taken too early from a happy, meaning-filled life. The speakers were kind and considerate, and often tearful. I sat in the very large group, one of many who loved this person, and I looked about me at the loving faces, feeling the warm sun, a light breeze, and the depth of our common connection. And I noticed the ki moment....

My guest post this month is by colleague and friend, Cinnie Noble, whose work as conflict management coach, author and teacher I have long admired.

We talk about "the elephant in the room" all the time, and Cinnie's post helped me explore my own "elephants" and gain insight into how to acknowledge and work with them.

THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM, by Cinnie Noble

As you likely know, when we use the metaphor – an elephant in the room – we mean there’s an obvious problem about which everyone in the room is fully aware but no one mentions. It may be an important topic that is too uncomfortable, controversial, embarrassing, inflammatory, or dangerous for people to raise.

An elephant in the room might also represent the unspoken hurts or words. They are what is going on between disputing people that isn’t being said. They are the lingering doubts and the niggling feelings. They are the missing pieces of the puzzle. They are present without being identified....

As I ponder the upcoming month, July 4--Independence Day--comes to mind. While I've written hundreds of posts over the years, my July posts suggest a similar theme--the freedoms we take for granted and how to remember these gifts every day. 

Today I'm thinking about how we sometimes exercise our freedoms in ways that limit or harm, and what to do about that. In the spirit of free will and the constitutional freedoms we enjoy in the U.S., am I too impulsive? Am I jeopardizing the very freedoms I cherish and that hold our communities together?

• I have the freedom to be unkind, for example, but should I be? What purpose will it serve?
• I'm free to speak whatever is on my mind, but who will benefit from my adrenalized rush (besides me)?
• I can post what I want on the Web, but what effect will it have on the person, the community, humanity, on my future self?

Are these fair questions?....

Self-imposed limits often instigate Ki Moments. When my ki feels stuck or restricted, I find it helps to ask how much of the restriction is of my own making? We are always making moment-to-moment choices about how to express our ki – whether and when to communicate about a conflict, for instance.

My frustration with a neighbor and his new drums caused me to examine my options, when I found my ki stuck wondering whether and how to communicate....

I've been reading a book called The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion, by Jonathan Haidt, where I found the poem that leads this post. It should be no surprise that the poem struck me as a huge reason people are so divided these days. I don't know about you, but whenever a potentially divisive topic comes up in conversation, like vaccines, school choice, parent's rights, pro-life/pro-choice (I could keep going), I feel I should take a side. And if I won't, I feel judged as having taken one anyway! ...

I introduced last month's Ki Moments post, "Love's In Need of Love Today," saying I can see love everywhere if I look for it. I feel the same this month about finding joy.

While I'm sometimes happily and luckily surprised by joy (a butterfly floats by, my crocuses are coming up!) it seems that lately I have to make a more conscious effort.