Saint Patrick
We live in a time in which it has become fashionable to signal our beliefs to others. Sometimes openly, sometimes covertly, sometimes with emojis, and sometimes with literal signs in the yard or window. This is all fine and well, but there is something more enduring and more impactful than broadcasting propositions.
As James Clear outlines, your identity emerges out of your habits. If you want to tell someone who you are, tell them what you practice, not what you believe. Examining how you spend time will reveal what you (actually) consider important.
Even if I am imperfect in so many ways,
nonetheless I want my brothers and my family to know my mettle,
so that they may clearly recognize the set of my soul.
(Confession of St. Patrick, I.6)
Mettle refers to resilience. It is a person’s ability to cope with challenging situations and to do so in a spirited way. We don’t celebrate Ireland’s patron saint because of his beliefs. He explicitly writes that he wants to be known by how he responded to adversity. His beliefs provided a language to express his faith, but his faith was born of experience, and that experience was shaped by his resolve.
I honor Patrick because, as John O’Donohue observes, his destiny was not to remain among what was familiar or complacent. More than once a dream called him to journey toward the next threshold - and he went.
So in the practice and in the spirit of an Irish blessing:
On this and all days, may you arise in a mighty strength.
Portland: Year One
One year ago I left my home, my family, my friends, and my job. I went West with little more than some books, some camping equipment, and the prospect of opportunity.
I arrived in Portland in time to enjoy the second half of summer, a beautiful autumn, and a terrible winter. The first six months were challenging. I had moved to a place where I did not know anyone and couldn’t depend on the traditional networks of family, school, or work. Adding to the strain, the expectations and the reality of the job position that encouraged me to move never quite matched up.
By the end of 2016, I knew a choice needed to be made. I could abandon the safety net and assume the risk I had always been reluctant to take, or I could concede defeat and return to the sandy beaches and the pine barrens of the Jersey shore. I stayed for two reasons.
The first was a growing sense that the main thing preventing me from doing what I knew was necessary was Fear. As McCoy might say, I’m a doctor, not a businessman! I had up until this point worked under the umbrella of other people. I was beginning to not only understand, but to know, that the practice and the experience I wanted to offer was not something I could obtain from someone else. It was something I had to create.
The second reason I stayed was the same reason I was drawn to Portland. In early 2015, I was in Denver, CO. I had been revisiting a question I had asked myself since I was 14 years old: “where do I want to be?” I had grown to hate that question. The answer was never apparent and although I have been fortunate to explore some good places, at no point had I ever felt I was where I was supposed to be. While in Colorado I was turned on to the idea and the practice of asking better questions - better as in questions with more energy, more complexity, and more depth. “Where do I want to be?” is inherently a simple, selfish, vague, and rather uninteresting question. Why should I expect a profound answer? As I was watching the sunset over the Rockies, I revised my question:
“Where am I called to facilitate the advancement of the human condition in myself and others?”
I had a dream that night in which I saw a tall, white, angled peak rising from a sea of green trees. I had a suspicion it was Mt. Hood, but wasn’t sure. The next day I began planning a trip to visit the Pacific Northwest.
Mt. Hood has been and continues to serve as my anchor. There is a groundedness and a certainty that this place, at least for now, is where I am called to be.
It has been five months since I cast aside the safety net, opened my own practice, and started to create the opportunity to do the work I am meant to do. Stay tuned.