Ask Better Questions

No one drifts to their desired destination. The process of creating a meaningful life requires two things: intention; and focused energy applied in the direction of our intention, otherwise known as focused attention.

How do we get started in determining our intention? Sometimes it helps to ask better questions. What do I mean by “better” questions? In moments when we become aware that we’re adrift in our own life, it’s tempting to ask unhelpful questions, like “Why is this happening to me?” Or “What’s wrong with me?” Or “Why is so-and-so doing so well, but I can’t seem to get ahead?” Or “Why do I even exist?”

At times like that, it can be helpful to shift our focus to different kinds of questions: questions that help us evaluate where we are, where we want to go, and how to get from here to there.

Ready? Here’s a sample.

How do I show up in life? Do people light up when I enter a room? Or when I leave it? How aware am I of the way I engage with others? With the way I speak? Behave? If the way I do things is as important as the things I do, how am I doing? Am I even aware that the way I show up in life - in relation to other people and in relation to myself - is a choice? Do I need to shift the way I show up? What are small things I can do to that end?

Am I moving forward in my life & purpose? Am I connecting & contributing? Am I living out my role as a creative contributor? Or am I merely existing as a consumer? Isolated in escapism? Am I engaging my life? Or am I trying to escape it? Do I need to shift? How can I shift from escapism to engagement?

Am I stuck? Am I coasting? Am I cycling in stasis, repeating patterns from the past? Am I hoping things will get better? Or am I making them better? What actions am I taking to produce the results I want? Am I willing to make the leap if it means moving towards my goals?

How do I approach my problems? With doom & gloom? With paralyzing anxiety? With resignation that they’ll never get better? Or with a sense of optimism that my thoughts, words and actions can make a difference?

What does an optimally functional & effective life look like? How about marriage? Vocation? Spiritual life? Relationships with friends & extended family? On a scale of 1-10, how “optimally functional & effective” would I rate all these areas? How can I move the needle in these areas of my life? In all areas of my life?

Where do I actively focus my attention? Where do I passively allow my attention to drift? If our neurology is shaped and built in response to the way we focus our attention, what kind of brain am I building?

What about inputs & influences? What books am I reading? Who am I surrounding myself with? If we become the books we read and the people we associate with, who am I becoming? Do I need to cut ties with anyone? Do I need to seek out wise counsel or better friends? Do I need to read better books?

When it comes down to it, the way we show up in life is a choice: we can make the leap, put in the work, take the actions necessary to move our lives forward, and live life in crescendo, knowing that the best is yet to come; or we can play it safe, assume the role of the victim, stay stuck in past patterns, and drift into entropy, resigning ourselves to the “fact” that the best days of our lives are behind us.

The choice is ours.

Tour Divide - Changing Gears

This is a tough one.

I've been wrestling with this for a while, but I'm pulling out for Tour Divide 2015.

I'll be honest, gearing up is expensive, and the training is kicking my butt, but when it comes down to it, I'm struggling with the time commitment - not just the time commitment for training, but also for the event itself.  My son Julian is ten years old, and at a really formative time in his life.  I remember what life was like for me at that age, and what a piss-ant I turned into when my dad was gone on business, sometimes for weeks at a time.  I think my mom and sister dreaded those weeks.  Anyway, the fact that participating in the TD is purely voluntary has me questioning my motivations & priorities.

I'm not sure what this means for my long term goals (2016 and beyond).  Gotta figure out what I really want out of this, and whether it's about the route, or about the race.  I want to figure out some way of including my family in this endeavor if I'm going to do it in the next few years.  Maybe it means I end up touring the route (or select parts of it), with them following in a support vehicle?  Maybe I race it in some other season of life.  Maybe something else altogether.  I don't know yet, still trying to figure it all out.  All I know is someday our son won't live with us anymore, and I don't want any regrets then about how I live my life now.

I'll continue to train, though probably less aggressively than I have been up to now.  More of a maintenance program, maybe throw some single track into the mix again.  I've been doing mainly gravel roads for the past several months, and my trail bike is convinced I don't love it anymore.  And it'll give me a chance to get the Fargo dialed in for future outings:  I'd love to put a Lauf fork on it, and maybe even a Rohloff/Gates drivetrain, neither of which I can afford at present.

So, I still have goals.  For the time being though, the Tour Divide has to go on the back burner.

But I will still watch the blue dots next summer.

-David

My Dinghy's On Fire!

When Cortez reached the new world, he burned his ships to ensure he and his crew could not go back the way they came.  Onward!

I burned a little ship of my own the other day.  Okay, maybe not a "ship" per se - more like a dinghy.

We just returned home from family vacation in Carlsbad, our annual week at the beach.  It was bliss.  However, vacations can pose a challenge when it comes to making productive eating decisions.  Different sights, different people, different kitchen.  All of these "differents" can throw the routine off, if you know what I mean.  Let's just say not all my decisions were productive ones in light of my health goals.  Nothing major, but enough to make me start to question my ability to maintain for the long term.

When we returned home, I was reminded of where I was a couple years ago.  As I unpacked, I found my old swimming trunks tucked away in a drawer.  My "big daddy" trunks.

For years, I've had two pairs of swimming trunks: my "fit daddy" goal trunks, and my "big daddy" trunks.  In the past, I'd take both pairs on vacation, hoping against hope that I could get the fit daddy trunks up past my rump.  I would try, then abandon the effort, break out the big daddy's, sigh as I slipped them on, then pretend I wasn't embarrassed to go outside without a shirt.

Yup, there they are.  Don't melt your retinas.

Last year was the first year I was actually able to get the "fit daddy" trunks on.  This year, I didn't even pack the "big daddy" trunks.  When we got home, there they were.

See, I've kept them around, just in case.  Just in case it all goes to pot.  Just in case I throw it all away and blow up again.  Just in case I get selfish and lazy again, and decide that instant gratification is more important than fitness and longevity.

I cut them in half and threw them in the trash.  Just like that.  Because there will not be a "just in case."  There will not be a next time.  I burned my dinghy.  Because--

I.  Am.  Not.  Going.  Back.

Arguably, shredding a pair of shorts may be a small milestone to some (I've seen my formidable wife Stacy dispose of yard-bags filled with old "big girl" clothes).  But it was a big deal to me.

Onward!

Do you have a ship you wish you could burn?  Any "big boy" clothes you wish you could give away?  I can help!  I am a Certified Health Coach with Take Shape For Life, and I can help you achieve your health goals.  Hey, life is too short to pretend to not be embarrassed at the beach.  Join me, and let's move forward together.

DavidJamesPhillips@Gmail.com

No How vs. Know How

So maybe you read my blog from yesterday, and a question pops up in your mind.  You think "OK, if attaining optimal health is such a deep matter of personal integrity, what took you so long to do something about it?"

Fair question.  Why now?

Short answer: I didn't know how.  I lacked the tools.  I had no clue how to get it done. 

Look, I've always wanted to be fit and healthy; I've always wanted to have the energy I needed to keep up with my family and pursue my interests; I've always felt inner conviction about letting myself go.  But until recently, I never knew how to address the issue without having to master complex nutritional theorems and/or execute rigorous hours-long workouts in the gym. 

Some people are built for that kind of life.  I am not one of them.  

Thinking about the Wants and the Whys was too painful because I didn't have the How.  Without tools I could use, my longing for health never got past the wish stage.  Instead, I ignored my convictions and stuffed my feelings (into billowy shirts & pleated pants), hoping that someday maybe something would change and my body would somehow just kinda, I dunno, get more healthy on its own. Maybe?

Hope is not a strategy, people.  No one is coming to bail you out of you. 

It wasn't until I got a Health Coach and started to adopt the Habits of Health that I've been able to make optimal health a reality in my life.  Now I want to help you.

If you long for optimal health in your life but have been frustrated in your attempts to achieve it; if you've learned to ignore your convictions because it just seems overwhelming; if you've stuffed your Wants & Whys because you can't figure out the How, contact me.   I am a FREE Health Coach with Take Shape For Life, and I can help you get it done. 

DavidJamesPhillips@Gmail.com

What's Your Why?

If you could choose to have optimal health in your life, would you take it?  I bet I can guess your answer to that question.

Why?

Ah, that's the more important question.  And everyone's answer is different.

But until you can nail down the answer to this second little question, the pursuit of the first question will remain elusive.

For years, I answered the "why?" question with statements that began with "I should -".  "I should lose weight so my clothes will fit."  "I should get in shape so I'll look better."  "I should exercise because my doctor said so."  And yet I never ended up doing any of those things in a way that I could maintain long term.

One day I was mulling this over with someone, talking it in circles, when she stopped me mid-sentence and said "Stop should-ing all over yourself."  I blanked as I made sure I heard her correctly.  Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.  As long as my "Why" began with "I should", I was relying on what others think - external drivers - to drive my success.  I had to make it internal.  I had to work on my Why.

Not "why does my doc want me to lose weight" or "why does society think I should look like so-and-so".  But "why does this matter to me?"

What's my why?  The answers are numerous, but the biggest one is family.  I want to be fully available for my wife and son, to lead and nurture them, to fully engage.  And I can't do that when I'm living like a sedentary desk jockey, too tired by day's end to give them what they need and deserve (and I've spent plenty of years living that life).  Another answer has to do with nature, and my desire to explore and enjoy it in ways that are meaningful to me.  In my case, that usually involves a bicycle.  To each his own.  Another answer involves personal stewardship.  For me, it's a matter of deep personal integrity that I care for this body of mine.  It's the only one I'm getting.

What's your Why?

If this is something that has piqued your interest, I'd love to help you work through it.  Contact me, and let's figure out why you want optimal health.

DavidJamesPhillips@Gmail.com

Father and Son

Not long ago, an old friend asked me how he might better enjoy his role as dad. It's a subject close to my heart, so I thought I'd post my response here for everyone to see. Enjoy.

[Friend] - Thank you so much for the note. I’ve read and re-read your message, trying to figure out how to address an issue that one could literally write a book about. Many things to say, and not sure where to start. So I’ll start with my dad.

My dad had a message from God when I was very young - 3ish I think - that he should spend time with me as I grew up (I only heard about this years later - I don’t know what form the message took - a dream, a voice, a “coincidental comment” from a stranger - who knows). My dad was a pretty passive guy, no grand ambitions beyond tending to his family, but he was ALWAYS available. Always. To the point that when I was having trouble with homework, I would ask him to come help. Often, the homework was above both our heads, but he would simply come and sit in the room with me, reading or whatever - and that seemed to make the difference. He and I were always going out for coffee in the evenings, especially as I got older, just spending time together. He came to wrestling practices, took me on ski trips, telegraphed in any number of ways how important I was to him.

When Julian [my own son] was born, Stacy [my wife] and my experience was anything but “normal.” Julian was so sick, we weren’t sure he would survive his birthday. It was literally hour to hour. But hours stretched into days, days into weeks, weeks into months and years. Obviously, he’s doing much better today, but the periodic doctor’s appointments, blood-work, and biopsies serve as reminders of those early moments of his life. [Visit julianxane.com]

I think for the most part, people assume that we’re born, we grow up, we have kids of our own, and we die before they do. But there are no guarantees. My perspective is that we should never take for granted that our children will outlive us.

One of the most poignant displays of this kind of emotion in popular media was in the movie The Two Towers, when king Theoden stood with Gandalf at his own son’s graveside. “No parent should have to bury their child.” It’s a powerful moment in the film.

If the possibility that we may outlive our kids exists, how do we live as the curators and custodians of the next generation?

One of the things my dad shared with me (way back when I was too young to really grasp what the heck he was talking about) had to do with how we prioritize the things in our lives as followers of Christ. I’ll do my best to paraphrase - here goes:

Our number one priority is our personal relationship with Christ; second comes spouse; third comes our own children; fourth comes vocation; after that comes extended family and friends; then hobbies & pursuits, volunteering & recreation, etc.

Two important notes about the list as it pertains to vocational ministry [this is important because both I and the person who wrote to me have worked or are working in vocational Christian ministry]:

Note 1: “Vocation” includes vocational ministry. This is important for a few reasons, not the least of which is that vocational ministry can tend to feel more like a lifestyle than a job, so if left unchecked, it can creep up the list and assume inappropriate positions of importance in one’s life. Vocation is 4th - not 3rd or 2nd. And certainly not 1st.

Which brings me to-

Note 2: The trap a lot of people in ministry fall into is to assume that “Ministry” (4th priority) and “Christ” (1st priority) are interchangeable. Somehow we become convinced that if we’re “serving Christ” in ministry, that this activity services the relationship between us and Christ. In truth, the two are separate, and ministry has to stay in its place in our life in order for rest of the picture (Christ, family, etc.) to stay in balance. Many a minister can tell of having a thriving ministry while experiencing a poverty of spirit due to neglect of that most precious relationship between Christ and the Christian. “Maybe if I work harder...” thinks the Christian... You can see how the cycle can spiral, often to disaster. In the mean time, while the Christian is trying to attend to his relationship with Christ by engaging in Ministry, everything else in the priority spectrum is left out of the loop. I’ve seen “ministry families” literally disintegrate because of misappropriation.

I realize this is more than you were probably hoping for, but to me it’s all a matter of perspective. Our lives are about Christ and Others, but among the Others, there is an order that needs to be maintained if our loved ones are to be valued appropriately.

Nobel Prize-winning novelist Toni Morrison was asked once how it was she became such a great writer. I love her response:

"I am a great writer because when I was little girl and walked into a room where my father was sitting, his eyes would light up. That is why I am a great writer. That is why. There isn't any other reason."

When Julian walks into the room, my eyes light up. Often it happens involuntarily, but sometimes I have to think about it. The conduct of a Father in the life of a Child can have a profound effect. No man knows how much time he has on earth with the ones he loves. But in the days I have left with my son, I will make it my life’s work to make sure he knows how much I love him.

That’s it for now. I’d love to continue the dialog, as things come up. In the mean time, a couple of books that have had an impact on my view of “family” and “fatherhood.”

“Wild at Heart” by John Eldredge
“As For Me and My House” by Walter Wangerin Jr.

Best-
David

"Will you snuggle?"

“Will you snuggle?”

Next to “I love you,” that little question is the thing I like most to hear from my five-year-old son. He usually asks it after stories are read and it’s time for bed, when he’s all tucked in and knows I’m about to leave him to sleep. At first, it was a way of putting off sleep, if only for a few minutes, but it has since become part of our bedtime routine.

And I love it.

Snuggling, once my son is all tucked in and the lights are out, involves me getting down on my knees next to his bed, and putting my head on his pillow next to his. He lies on his side and holds my head. There’s laughing and giggling involved, and after a while it gets quiet. We whisper “I love you,” and I get up to go, at which point he asks me to send Mamma in for a snuggle. And it starts all over again.

Eventually my son will grow up, and as long as we treat one another with dignity, there’s a good chance that he’ll tell me he loves me for as long as we’re both alive. But these precious moments when he’s young - I know it won’t last forever.

So when I’ve had a hard day, or I’m tired, or I have things yet to do before I can go to bed myself, when I hear him ask “Will you snuggle?” I have to remember that someday he won’t ask anymore.

So I get down on my knees and snuggle.