Blackberries picked near DuPont State Forest, NC

The year is middle-aged, at its prime, and hot as hell. The days are long and the nights are sticky. I’m sun burnt, sweaty, and wild blackberries have stained my shirt. Afternoon thunderstorms bring welcomed winds, shade, and an excuse to be indoors…and the rare evening storms excite me as nature’s electricity pricks the landscape, reminding me of how my dad had be pinned and wriggling as a child, his hand held high with a threat of the next round of tickling, all the while I would be squealing with a mix of joy and anticipation… and probably on the verge of wetting my pants.

Photo credit to my brother, Gilbert Johnston III, taken from his porch in Birminham, AL.

I’m finding myself taking a step back and reflecting upon the first half of the year, observing the fruits as they are ripening, noticing the weeds that have sprung up while my attention was diverted, soaking in the sunshine- a concept made especially tangible in the extreme humidity of the southeastern July heat. Much has happened this year, on a global scale as well as a personal one.

I’ve abandoned “New Year’s Resolutions”, a tradition I’ve found to be tainted by “shoulds” and lacking in self-acceptance. Instead, I identify a word for the year. This is a concept introduced to me by a friend several years ago. The word is meant to represent an intention, a theme to return to and let guide my actions, a direction to steer towards with hands held loosely and lightly upon the wheel. For 2015, I chose the word Receive, as I felt it was a theme that had been coming up recently. My therapist would tell you that it is a theme that has been coming up for years. But anyway, I felt ready to name it more fully this year, and have been practicing… practicing … practicing.

In my exploration of the concept of receiving I have been more open to help from my friends. Why is this so difficult in our society? We all want to be the ones who help, who feel generous and of use… but are so reluctant to allow those we love to have the gift of giving to us. With my particular car situation at the moment, I am proud to say that many of my friends now have the joy of feeling helpful to me…. At least I hope that’s how they feel.

I have also been more adaptable to last minute changes, a quality that may not seem significant to those who do not know me well. As my mother recounts it, when I was a child I would balk at any last minute diversion from “the plan”, even if it was a surprise trip to the zoo: “What?! We’re going to the zoo? But… But… I didn’t know we were going to the zoo!” Life is ever changing, especially with my adventure loving and chronically time-challenged husband, and again and again I have the opportunity to practice surrendering expectations. With receiving, I am letting my hands open and am remembering, at times, that despite my organization, plans, and goals, I am not in control… and better things happen when I rotate my palms upwards.

Another aspect of the word has to do with the way that I receive others. What does this look like? What does it mean?

To receive another person is to see them through their lens, to hear them in the context of their lives and to resist the temptation to add our own layers, our own understandings of the world, to how they choose to show up with us...most significantly, to stop formulating our own responses while another person is opening up to us, to drop our agendas and desires for the other person... to simply be with them. I practice this regularly in my work as a therapist, it is the most important gift I can offer: to listen fully, with my ears and with my heart. I practice this with friends, and with family members as well…the key word being practice. Somtimes, I'm downright shitty at it.

But I want to take this further. Another part of receiving the other person is reflecting to them what I see.

Reflection. It’s a word with nuances to its definition: to take time and space to think about an experience, event, or relationship in order to gain further clarity or understanding… the function that a mirror provides, or a calm body of water… the skill that a therapist uses to, hopefully, add depth to the therapy session... a gift that I desire from my friends.

The mind receives the lessons from the past, the mirror receives the image, the therapist receives the client just as she is, and I hope my friends do the same of me.

View from Sundial Crack on Looking Glass, NC

I recall a co-instructor at North Carolina Outward Bound School referring to the rock as a mirror. When climbing, the rock will reflect back to you all that you are bringing to it. This allows the climber to notice the fear, anger, frustration, delight, joy, or excitement that she feels when on the rock and to realize that it is not the rock that is causing her to feel these things; her experience is defined by what she brings to the rock.

In receiving others fully, I am attempting to be a mirror that reflects the beauty, strength, and possibility that is shared with me. I am the quiet surface of the pond, flashing the lightning of the storm cloud as it electrifies the night. I am the moon, glowing with and in response to the gift of the sun’s rays.

Hafiz, a Persian poet not known quite as well as Rumi but writing only a century later, wrote a short and simple poem about this concept of reflection. The translation makes me laugh a little, due to the use of the word “cops”, but it also catches my breath in a way that beckons me to live from this place. He writes about the tendency we all have to look for love in the world. I offer that the word "love" may also be replaced with words like acceptance, approval, permission, attention… wanting to be seen, understood, noticed… or even to feel special, cared for, protected, honored. And then he poses a question, or an invitation rather, about the possiblity of reversing the direction... to be the one who offers love… to be the one who reflects what we see... to be the moon glowing with the beautiful abundant light of the sun:

WITH THAT MOON LANGUAGE

Admit something:

Everyone you see, you say to them,

“Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud;

Otherwise,

Someone would call the cops.

Still though, think about this,

This great pull in us

To connect.

Why not become the one

Who lives with a full moon in each eye