Downsizing for Clarity

So, I had an epiphany – and when I happen across an exercise so powerful as to evoke an epiphany, I just have to share!

The crazy thing is, the exercise described below wasn’t designed as – nor did I take it on as – a coaching (or reflection) tool.  I discovered it in the process of researching tactics and techniques for effective downsizing.  

Spending the first three decades of our lives together, my hubby and I are experts at acquiring and accumulating the stuff (boots & bags, bikes & boats, fins & gaiters . . .) to do the stuff  (hike, bike, kayak, snorkel, ski – you name it and we likely gave it a shot, which explains the razor scooters in our garage . . .).  And as we consider the years ahead, we find ourselves considering the business of downsizing with a seriousness that includes researching the advice and experience of previous and fellow travelers and how they have made the hard decisions of what to keep and what to let go.
    
One of the downsizing suggestions I read (the one that inspired this blog) suggested looking about one’s home and determining what, if all was lost (like in a fire or flood), one would choose to replace.  It’s a great drill – and I challenge you to give it a try (even if you have no plans to move soon or ever).  The process, for me, clarified what I need to live the life I desire -- and it was far less than I imagined.
  
My list ended up being both utilitarian and sentimental.  And without thinking about putting together a plan, I discovered I carefully had included the tools critical to the work I feel I have to do in my lifetime.  Because the important (to me) stuff was restricted to things I once had, there was no dramatic shift in my thinking.  Rather I experienced a lighting bolt of clarity that distilled from all the stuff that which I need to support my continuing journey.  For every colleague, friend and client who ever has struggled to answer my question, “What do you really, really want?”  This exercise may move you closer to your answer.  Envision and then list what stuff you’d replace in the aftermath of a catastrophic loss (when you and your family safely are away so only stuff is lost).

As my pragmatic husband groused, this really is not terribly beneficial for downsizing planning because at the end of the day, we’ll include comforts and accouterments I chose not to restore when starting from a figurative zero (because of course we’re not really starting from zero, are we?), but the thinking was powerful and fruitful in ways unexpected.

A great coach once told me if the universe keeps confronting you with a path or opportunity no matter your attempts to resist, maybe you should pay attention.  This exercise of restoring stuff not only honored my previous choices, it culminated in a post-apocalyptic universe screaming: “This is your path” in pitch and volume irresistible.

As with any idea, concept or reading I’ve ever offered as a coach: I’m passing the awareness canapés tray here with the reminder, “Take what you need/want, and leave the rest.”  But if you take, be ready to listen -- whether a whimper or a bang, I suspect you’ll hear something.

It's About Time

I love words.  More precisely I love the power of words (spoken or written) when just the right one or ones are used to describe an observation, make a request, give direction, express an emotion (and on and on for all the reasons we communicate).  And while I certainly do not see communication as all about transmitting messages (I’ve written previously and more than once about the importance of listening), today I want to focus on message transmission as pertains to word choice.

Somewhere along the way, I heard (or at least recall as having heard) that words are both creative and generative.  It is a notion I have repeated hundreds of times in coaching.  Today I am reflecting on it again after hearing from a client that she and her husband met regarding a shared concern, and subsequently agreed to take time in the future to continue working toward a solution.  This idea of taking time confounds me.  Word choice, particularly as pertains to time, often takes on this magical, supernatural, fantastical connotation.

Consider it.  In terms of time (a measure), what can you really do? 

Can you find time?  If you have time hidden in a box, stuffed in a closet or forgotten in a jacket pocket – waiting to be discovered like some lucky prize (maybe when you’re rummaging for change for the pizza delivery) please let me know.  Then let me know how you did it.  Because I, like you, often could use just a little more time in my days – and I could profit from this temporal (hide and find) sleight of hand.

And how about taking time? (like my client and her husband)  From where (or whom) does one take time?  From one’s own busy calendar?  Or maybe we steal time from others.  How about taking time from the kid next door?  You know, the one who plays video games half the day and all night?  Seriously, he seems to be wasting time on a frivolous pursuit.  Perhaps you can just reach into his time bank and take some of it.  Heck, he’ll probably never even notice. 

Or maybe you can make time.  Any one of us has hooked into this illusion.  I’ll make time to practice Italian (my current fantasy), play the piano, clean out the closet, exercise, shop for healthy food . . . you get the idea.  This power says we can create the extra minutes so many of us crave.  Everything gets done when we can make time (except maybe sleep).  As creators of time we are absolutely omnipotent (and of course wholly delusional). 

Deconstructed in this way, vacuous language in the treatment of time is (painfully, obviously) absurd.  “Of course,” you may be thinking, “I know I can’t actually find, take or make time.  It’s just a figure of speech.” But is it really?  Because if there is nothing real about finding, taking or making time, what do our words really mean?  What action are they creating?  What motivation are they generating to take that action?  

Let’s consider again my client and her husband.  By agreeing to a time and date at which they will continue their discussion they suddenly have a mandate and direction.  They agree that instead of feeling under the gun by agreeing to an executable approach, they experience instead a certain grounded focus.  They’ve initiated a chain of actions that include considering their future schedules, identifying an opening on both calendars when their time is not otherwise obligated and committing to spending that time together working on their solution.  

With this point in the future identified, my client and her husband find they independently are considering the requests and concessions required for a mutually agreeable solution.  And because time is, in fact, bounded by seconds, minutes, hours and days, their focus is sharpened within the real parameters of the measure of time.  Now they have action and are generating energy toward a desired outcome.
It’s not always easy.  I won’t begin to suggest to you that I don’t get push back from clients when I question time fantasies.  I often hear: “It’s too hard to plan . . . My time is really never my own . . . My calendar is so unpredictable. “  I get it.  And I remind them of the well-known management adage: what gets measured gets done.  Time, no matter what hocus-pocus we desire, is quantifiable and measurable.  So while we might find keys, take a coat from its hanger or make cookies, when it comes to word choice and time what we’ve really got is measurement and allocation. 

So today, I am scheduling my time to practice Italian from 1:00 to 1:30 each weekday afternoon (gosh, I just felt the resistance – and I’m going for it anyway!).  Because if I want to order a meal or find a toilet in Italy come June, I’ve got to have more than a little magic in my pocket. I need to create and generate the action within the time available between now and then– Lei capisce? 

Now how about you?  What’s lingering out there in your world of time fantasy that can get real when you schedule and commit to action?  

If not now, when?

How Much Would You Pay?

Would you go to a gym that made you pay for missed visits?  Probably not, but you may be surprised to learn that in the world of exercise consistency penalties may outweigh rewards in motivating you to meet your activity goals.

Recent research out of University of Pennsylvania separated 300 participants into four groups, two of which included cash incentives.  In one group, participants were awarded $1.40 for each day they met their activity goals (with a possible total of $42 to be earned over 30 days).  In a second group, participants were awarded the lump sum payment of $42 on the first day of the month, then “fined” $1.40 for each day they failed to meet their goal.  Although the financial outcome would be the same for all participants with the same activity levels, the group facing the prospect of having money taken back for non-achievement was nearly twice as likely to meet their goals as participants who were paid for each day they achieved their goals.

The study, demonstrating the strength of loss aversion as a motivator, poses the question of how to take this (not-so-positive) approach forward toward helping people involved in creating new exercise habits.

One way I’ve encouraged habit development for clients in the past is through the use of a very visible calendar marking each day of progress.  The feedback I get from clients is less around building the calendar, and more around not wanting to disrupt their visible pattern of performance with a “miss."  Because a miss feels like loss once a pattern of success becomes evident, this simple practice is another example of the strength of loss aversion in building exercise habits. 

Ready to give it a go?  Try building your own activity-tracking calendar – maybe even go so far as to pre-load it with rewards (checks, stars or stickers will do just fine).  You may just find that your reluctance to remove a reward (suffer a loss) promotes the development of your new activity habit!  

Hint: if you want to really double-down on winning habit development, post your calendar somewhere you and others will see it.  

"We are what we repeatedly do.  Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit."  ~Aristotle

Converse like a Coach

Want to improve your daily exchanges?  You might try conversing like a coach.  

Recently I was asked what I thought was most important in a coaching relationship – what makes the relationship work?  And interestingly, I think at its heart the same thing that makes a coaching relationship work is integral to every relationship: respect.  And I believe one of the most important ways we demonstrate respect for the intelligence, talent, creativity and resourcefulness of others – whether clients, family, partners, friends or colleagues – is through conversation.  

As a coach, I appreciate and truly enjoy my clients.  I enjoy our coaching conversations.  I love exploring with clients and being as surprised as they are by their discoveries.  To experience that marvel and joy, I hold no preconceived notions and make no judgments as we converse.  My clients and I are peers and partners in observing, discovering, mining, learning, sharing and celebrating.  In coaching conversations, trust is paramount (and goes both ways).  Like walking a trail with a great mountain guide, a coach doesn’t have to know what is around the next corner.

Rather, it is the cool-headed reaction to gathering storm clouds, flexible approach when considering unexpected paths, engaging sense of humor that encourages exploration and genuine interest in a client’s well-being and ability to reach and grow, which I think are most important.  That’s because from these kind practices and respect, grow the trust required to walk together and to talk amiably, authentically, happily. 

Years ago, when I was a student in Georgetown University’s leadership coaching program, the refrain of our teaching staff was to trust the process.  What they really meant was that we didn’t need to learn scripts, master assessment tools or pick up affected/steering interaction techniques.  We all were intelligent, talented, creative and resourceful learners.  We would gain experience and expand our talents to meet our clients where they were – wherever they were.  And that meant conversing with genuine curiosity, and having nothing to demonstrate or to prove.  We were enough in our listening, reflecting, appreciating and honoring others.  For new coaches, that can feel risky.   After many years and clients, it feels natural.  Coaching, after all, is a conversation.  

And I believe just about any conversation can be enriched by the same reverent approach.  If you’ve had too many Groundhog Day-type discussions (new topic, same frustrating result), you may want to try thinking a little like a coach when you next engage someone in conversation:

1.  Start by acknowledging and appreciating the intelligence, talents, creativity and resourcefulness of your conversation partner.  Likely each of you has information the other does not.  Only by starting out with this awareness will you be open to listening and learning (as opposed to lecturing).
2.     Keep in mind this line from Chalmers Brother’s book Language and the Pursuit of Happiness: “You can be right, or you can be in a relationship.” Which do you choose?
3.     Be Stephen Covey-like in your willingness to listen first to understand.  It’s all a matter of perspective.  The more you practice real and honest listening to understand, the easier it becomes.
4.     Be honest with yourself about your intention in conversation.  There’s a difference between being able to finish one another’s sentences and interrupting – one springs from compatibility and the other from “combat-ability.”  You can feel the difference.
5.     Be curious – genuinely curious.  That means surrender your thoughts about what to say next and just listen when others speak.  Long ago, when I was working in public affairs, a sage professional told me that it was perfectly fine to pause and consider an interviewer’s question before rendering an answer (a microphone thrust into one’s face is not a starter gun, and neither is a pause in dialogue).  How many times have we all missed a key point due to our own distraction; or answered the question not asked?
6.     And on the heels of that one, be comfortable with silences in conversation.   I like to think of silences as conversational petri dishes -- culturing thoughts and ideas.  Sometimes conversations require the gift of a respectful pause.
7.     Understand that the counterweight to an unhelpful assumption is a thoughtful question.  If there’s one place assumptions find no quarter it is in meaningful discourse.  So ask clarifying questions to get at distinctions.   If you want to know more, ask more; and then operate from shared knowledge (that’s respect).
8.     Finally, enjoy the discourse.  Fun and engaging conversations are spontaneous, memorable and raise awareness (for each participant).


The art of conversation, or the qualification for a good companion, is a certain self-control, which now holds the subject, now lets it go, with a respect for the emergencies of the moment.  ~Emerson

Loving and Accepting All of You

As a coach I am used to hearing self-critical language.  Wait a second, let me restate that, as a human being, I am used to hearing self-critical language.  Most of us are our own harshest critics.  We critically judge ourselves for everything – from what we chose to eat for lunch to how we managed our emotions when dealing with a tough parenting challenge.  So it’s really unsurprising that the voice of our inner critic often decides to gripe about what she perceives in the mirror.  In fact, except in the most extreme cases of body dysmorphia, this self-critical voice around appearance is pretty normal.  Still, because it serves little purpose other than to undermine self-esteem and sap creative energy, I like for my clients to have the tools to silence their inner critic, or at least to choose not to listen to her. 

When a coaching client tells me: “I hate my nose,” or “I could be happy if only I had Taylor Swift’s legs,” my first curiosity is how does that thinking serve her?  I know for me (and I’ll never have Taylor Swift’s legs), I can’t pull anything that will help me to be a better coach, spouse or person out of that kind of thinking.  

So, I have three coaching questions (based in appreciation, perspective and acceptance) that I often ask clients to help them shrug the burden of critical body image in order to create space instead for energy, happiness and change.  This is not to say we don’t work together to achieve healthy goals around body weight and activity, rather that we also work to develop and nurture a healthy mindset.  The next time you find yourself hating what you see in the mirror, try asking yourself these questions to shift your mindset:

#1:  What have those legs (that nose, those arms) done for me lately and have I thanked them for it?

The idea here is to shift thinking from form to function, and then intentionally to appreciate our parts for what they do (and it’s a lot) versus how (we think) they look.  I know my own legs don’t look like Taylor Swift’s, but darned if they can’t run a 10K, chase the dog and motor me through the aisles of the grocery store.  I really appreciate all that they do.  That feels powerful!  So, instead of hating your knobby elbows, how about appreciating them for enabling you to to lift your toddler or hug your baby?   

Question #2: What would I say to a friend who is beating herself up about her appearance?

The truth is, most of us are more kind and sensitive to our friends than we are to ourselves.  I see this in coaching groups of women who are more likely to grant grace to peers than to themselves.  Those kind and sensitive exchanges are critical to loving discourse.  Using your “What would I tell my best friend?” perspective can help you to change your self-talk from critical to loving.  You’ll find that kindler, gentler you has some deep and loving insight.  Let her speak, and really listen to what she has to say!

Question #3: How would my life be different if I accepted the woman in the mirror?

I often hear optimism and energy emerge in response to this question: “I’d be happier . . . less self-conscious . . . more likely to do things.”  This simple question around acceptance can start us down the path to releasing at least some of our perfectionistic (self-critical) thoughts.  By accepting ourselves as we are, we can begin to pump up our self-esteem and clearly see what’s in the realm of the possible (and truly important).  Accepting reality (dismissing perfect) is central to setting achievable goals and coaching oneself to greatness.

The Great Resolution Debate

I know, I know.  The topic of resolutions is everywhere this time of year.  It's the New Year thing to do, right?  

New year's resolutions typically are things we say we are going to do: lose weight (number one year after year), get organized, save more (spend less), or stop doing: smoking, snacking between meals, fighting with a sibling.  

The burden of resolutions on 1 January is so great, that many of us just dig in and say, no more.  I hear it all time, "I'm not going to make a resolution because I'll just fail at it (break it)."

Truth is, there's nothing magical about the new year for making change except that it has that fresh start appeal.  You know, every day is a new day.  

So here's the thing: you can resolve to make change any time you like.  The magic is not in the timing, rather in understanding your motivation (and it's not because the clock struck midnight).  If you want to lose weight (since it's the most popular resolution), start by writing your story of what brought you to desire this change.  Got it?  Now write the story of you in the future once you've lost the weight (be as vivid as possible about how you look, feel, move, etc).  Put a stake in what success looks like (may be it's a number on a scale, maybe it's a clothing size). 

And if it's not weight loss you're after, you can apply this same process to any change resolution.  It's understanding and stating the precise coordinates to your destination (and yes, you have to understand where you are to understand where you want to go) that you're after.  

This is where the late great Yogi Berra's modification of a Lewis Carroll quote is oh so true.  "If you don't know where you're going, you'll end up somewhere else."  

So if you want to make change this year, understand where you are (this can take some brutally honest introspection) and clearly define where you're going.  The space between these two points, you will find, can conduct some amazing motivational energy.  

According to the Journal of Clinical Psychology, "People who explicitly make resolutions are 10 times more likely to attain their goals than people who don't explicitly make resolutions."  

The magic (after all) is not in the chime, but in the change (and the details).

You've got this!

Happiness and the Dentist

I know what you’re thinking, “'Happiness and the Dentist.' She’s absolutely lost it this time.” 

Bear with me on this one. Read the blog. View the attached TED talk. I promise it will make you happier. One, because the (TED talk) delivery is hilarious; and two, because it taps into the most powerful tool available in your change arsenal this moment (in every moment): choice! 

So, why happiness and the dentist? Because my dentist, who most people call, "Dr. Tim" (at his urging, sweetly using his first name with his title), is so darned happy. Dr. Tim has been my dentist for three years. My husband and I secretly call him “Kid Dentist” both because we’ve reached that age when many of our medical providers are younger than us and because he looks so well, kid-like. Dr. Tim’s staff loves him -- speaking highly of his professional expertise and intellect, and enjoying his happy presence. 

Because positive psychology is such an interest of mine, I’ve started to ask happy people, like Dr. Tim (not individuals celebrating a moment of happiness, rather those people who seem to possess a consistent attitude of happiness), to what they attribute their happiness. 

Here’s what Dr. Tim said: “I think for the most part I’ve always been happy. I can’t remember when or who, but somewhere along the way I heard that I could choose to be happy or not.” Looking around his office he observed, “Ten years ago I never would have dreamed all of this would happen. ” (He’s been chosen to succeed a very respected and successful dentist and to “inherit” the practice) “I think it’s at least in part due to my being positive. It’s wonderful,” he continued (with a smile, of course)

Research absolutely supports Dr. Tim’s experience. Happier people are more successful. Interestingly, the opposite is not always true. In fact, research has shown time and again that once people "succeed" to an aspired level that they believe will make them happy, it does -- for a very short time.  Then they are unhappily aspiring again.  Happy people succeed, are happy (as they were before) and continue to succeed (happily).

And you know, Dr. Tim has the same choice as each of us every single day: the choice to be happy. 

Finally, looking out the window of the exam room, Dr. Tim waved a hand dismissively toward the rain-streaked window revealing the gray morning beyond. “You know, sometimes I think it would be easier not to be happy. And I know that happiness is a choice worth making.” 

So take twelve minutes right now to watch Shawn Achor’s TED Talk.  Of course, it's your choice . . .

http://www.ted.com/talks/shawn_achor_the_happy_secret_to_better_work 

Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success.

A Rim 2 Rim Success

On the last Tuesday in September, I (along with my husband and West Point roommate) hiked the Grand Canyon from Rim-to-Rim. Twenty-four miles, 6,000 feet down to the Colorado River, 4,500 feet back up between sunrise and sunset. My husband and I chose this hike when a busy work schedule caused us to postpone to next summer a planned three-week trek across England. Having adjusted our hiking goal for this year, we developed a training plan specific to the single-day event and “prepared to execute.”  My West Point roommate, a superb athlete -- but new to long distance hiking -- took this on as a new challenge.  Watching her prepare and complete the hike was inspirational.  

Are you in a rut? Have you become so comfortable with what you do that you’ve become uninspired or unwilling to risk something new?  Her story just may inspire you.

Ask yourself: When is the last time you did something for the first time? 
 
Fear of trying causes paralysis. Trying causes only trembling and sweating. 
~Matt Cooley.  

Former world champion gymnast, coach and college professor, Dan Millman, goes so far as to encourage athletes, students and client to dispose even of the concept of “trying.” He argues that trying sets one up for the concurrent anxiety of being unable “to do.” (Perhaps why trying causes “trembling and sweating.”)  

The notion of trying versus doing played out in the Grand Canyon stream crossings. The streams, cold (though never deep or threatening), always presented with paths of stones for crossing. Fear would have kept us on one side. Trembling and sweating could have resulted in a dunking. Years of hiking experience (and my own limited experience with gymnastics and the balance beam) taught me to dispense with thoughts of trying to cross the stream – rather to just walk (a la Nike “Just Do It!”). The surest way to cross a stream across the stepping-stones is to move forward with an unbroken stride and go (it’s what we’d do in the absence of water). No paralysis. No sweating and trembling. Just go.  

Learn to fail or fail to learn. ~Tal Ben-Shahar 

How do babies learn? They fail early and fail often. Sound crazy? Ever known of a baby who mastered walking with the first step? Think about it.  

She believed she could, so she did. ~Unknown  

This aphorism I spied on the forearm of a favorite waitress in Santa Fe. It screams: Step up! Believe in yourself! Succeed! 

It reminds me of the story of the Little Engine that Could.

“I think I can. I think I can.” The little engine puffed up the hill helping the larger, broken-down train of toys reach the children on the other side. Although larger and apparently stronger trains declined, the tiny engine believed, and so she did. 

At least once in the 4,500 foot ascent out of the canyon, I heard my roommate, (trained and ready) say quietly, “She believed she could, so she did.” 

No could, would or should here. Twenty weeks earlier, she “signed up” for the challenge. Unlike her hiking companions, she had no long-distance hiking or marathon experience from which to draw. How did she do it? She checked in on her desire and commitment, developed her training plan, created accountability by sharing her goal with friends and neighbors curious to see her walking long distances with a heavy pack, trained/practiced (religiously and strenuously) and set out to succeed – with a nod to the National Park Service sign in the Canyon (see attached), “Down is optional. Up is mandatory!”

So this weekend, I encourage you to try somehow new, release any fear (perhaps of failure), learn something about you, move confidently across the stepping-stones, make a plan and traverse your canyon from Rim-to-Rim. And finally, know that as you crest the rim, you'll be adding to your pack a healthy (and weightless) dose of self-efficacy - indispensable for the next challenge. 

I know you can.

Ode to a Snake

It’s a common experience: being unable to locate an item that is hiding in plain sight.  In fact, there’s an old adage that aptly characterizes the occurrence: “If it had been a snake it would have bit me.”

My legendarily forgetful Granny Garrett, who lived her whole life in South Georgia, often applied the old saw of the snake.  And it was her voice that brought the words flying back to me recently, as I contemplated mindfulness on a training walk – only to find that mindfulness itself was hiding in plain sight and I wasn’t seeing it at all.

**************

In preparing for a one-day rim-to-rim hike of the Grand Canyon this fall, I’ve taken to walking (multiple iterations, with a tad of running) the 650 feet up and down the path to The Cross of the Martyrs in Santa Fe.  Recently, I started this workout within an hour of reading a chapter from Sharon Salzberg’s book on meditation, Real Happiness: The Power of Meditation.  Having taken to reading Salzberg’s book as a way to reconnect with my own meditation practice, I was full of the notion of making my workout mindful by being fully present in the experience. 

Traipsing up and down my training route, I was (mindfully, I thought) noticing sensations: the comfort of my new trail shoes, the burn in my gluts, my increased respiratory rate.  I was (again, I thought) fully present to the sensations and scenery of the trail.  What a meditation maven I was!

And that’s when it happened.  A rattlesnake busy making its way down a stonewall bordering the path startled me from my thoughts and brought me to full presence.   Before I saw the snake, I heard the rattle.  Looking to my right (roughly at shoulder level), I was close enough to note the triangular head and elliptical pupil of my impromptu mindfulness instructor.

Said snake had done its job.  I was present -- fully, mindfully aware.  Nothing could have been more enlightening in the practice of mindfulness than this mindless encounter.  It was a snake.  It didn’t bite me.   You get the picture, I’m sure.

For those of you – like me – who at times struggle with meditation and the practice of mindfulness (and it is such a human experience – the struggle), the “If it were a snake . . . “ moment may be quite familiar.  It’s less what we don’t see, than what simply doesn’t register.  The present experience is unable to get a figurative word in edgewise through the busy chatter in our minds.

What mindfulness really does for us is allow us to experience our thoughts without succumbing to the chatter.  Whether we’re sitting crossed legged in a meditation room, training our physical bodies with the intent of moving meditation or trying to remember the name of the guy at the grocery store, distracting (obscuring) thoughts come up for all of us. 

Salzberg says that what we hope to learn from meditation is, “the difference between thinking and being lost in our thoughts.”  That is, the difference of being present on the path and surrendering to all the distracting thoughts along the way. 

Occasionally I get a coaching client who thinks meditation is about suspending one’s thoughts (as if one could).  The trick is not to cease thoughts – rather to acknowledge one’s distracting thoughts, and then let them go.  In this way, mindfulness trains our attention.  It’s a reason meditation is being used more and more as a tool of performance enhancement for athletes.  One of basketball’s greatest coaches, Phil Jackson, is known for using meditation training with his players with the result of improving focus and teamwork (11 NBA titles can’t be wrong).

So when along my path, the snake was there, suddenly within striking distance and politely warning me of my impending trespass, I did not stop thinking – rather I let go of all thoughts not of the snake.  That focused thinking (snakes have a way of creating focus) allowed me quickly, though surprisingly calmly, to move away from the wall.  For the rest of the walk, when there arose distracting thoughts that threatened to blind me to my surroundings, the venerable snake reminded me to acknowledge them, and let them go.

There’s a lot one can learn from a snake . . . no bite required.