“What’s the Invitation Here?”
3/23/21
Dear friend,
I just spent a half-day on what felt like a wild goose chase.
It involved googling, calling my bank, more googling, reaching out to a lawyer friend, starting and then discarding an email to my accountant (because who emails their accountant with a random, non-tax-filing question during tax season?!), writing out lists in my journal, talking through the swirly thoughts with Kirk, and sending a video chat to a friend.
It had started with a simple task. One simple task I was going to get done today. One small thing I could get up and running in about an hour.
But it unraveled like an onion peel. Four hours later, I was no nearer being done with it. In fact, I felt further away.
"What's the invitation here?"
This is a question I learned when I was being trained as a spiritual director, and it's a question many spiritual directors I know ask regularly, whether in session with a directee or in conversation with a friend or beloved one.
"What is the invitation here?"
We can ask it of ourselves in any moment, and I have found it has a grounding effect.
Try it:
When a stranger gets snippy with you in the coffee line . . . what is the invitation here?
When the parent of a student makes what feels like an inordinate request . . . what is the invitation here?
When you get riled by something shared on Facebook or on a comment thread . . . what is the invitation here?
When you feel alienated, lonely, or envious of everyone you see on Instagram . . . what is the invitation here?
When you and your partner talk past each other, both of you hurt by what the other can't see . . . what is the invitation here?
When you work so intently for an afternoon, your head hurts and your shoulders scrunch tight . . . what is the invitation here?
When you try to help but to no avail . . . what is the invitation here?
I love this question because we can ask it in pretty much any moment—big ones and small ones.
And I think it's so effective because has the immediate effect of calling us back to our center and who we want to be. It helps us look up, gain perspective, reframe, or remember.
Are we being invited to let go of something we're clutching too hard? Are we being invited to pause and listen? Are we being invited to forgive? Are we being invited to step back? Are we being invited to recenter in our own life and innate value? Are we being invited to trust? Are we being invited to act?
Only we can know the answer to the question when we ask it of ourselves. It's a question that tunes our ears to our inner wisdom and knowing. It's a question that returns us to the values and beliefs and invitations that ground our lives.
I'll be honest, I don't always remember to ask this question. It usually takes getting to the end of my own inner wild goose chase before I recall it to mind. That's certainly what happened today!
But when I do remember, it feels like relief. It feels like being returned to the place where I make my better and best decisions.
What was my invitation in today's wild-goose-chasing moment?
When I paused to take a breath (and take in the wisdom of Kirk and my friend, after I'd asked for it, too), I realized I'd been propelled forward in those four hours by the myths of urgency, perfectionism, smallness, and scarcity.
The pause brought me back to myself. The question reminded me of trust. It reminded me to move at the speed of soul. It reminded me to go slow and trust in the good heart of others. It reminded me nothing is falling apart, nor will it in this situation.
All is well and will be well. It's all going to be okay.
What is your pause in the moment telling you? What inner knowing emerges when you ask yourself the question, "What's the invitation here?"
Yours in the pausing moment,
Christianne