How are you?

“I dwell in possibility…” 
― Emily Dickinson
 

The snow is dancing outside the windows and I am snuggled under puffy blankets scattered on the couch. We've added more because the puppies seem to get to them before we do. My fingers are cold while I type and I search for warmth in a cup of coffee gone cold. We wait as long as we can before turning on the heater, a game I've played for decades to save money.

Each time I turn my head the flakes transform, are new. This time larger and heavier, last time light and swirling, wanting to perform before hitting the ground.

I feel vulnerable, as I always do when I've sent something new into the world and as something ends. Each day I've sent a short email to my circle, Scavenge. It is the quietest group I've ever circled and there is something so delicious in the stillness. There are only a few days left.

There are reasons we talk and others we pull inside; stories are read in silence and out loud.

I was thinking of a conversation my friend Melissa and I had the other day through text. It had been a while and I quickly type, "How are you???"

She responded, "That is such a huge question isn't it?"

Then I remembered that is one place we are so different. She said we were like twins with that question. To me it opens me up and makes me feel instantly loved and I will recite details and tell you the stirrings of my soul.

For Melissa, "I get very Emily Dickinson on that question. I’m always like “I’m processing” but inside I’m thinking “Well I suppose I have been dying from the moment I was born, aren’t we all?”

In other words, the question takes her into herself and becomes very quiet to the outside. For me, the question pulls me out of myself where I tend to dwell and reminds me that I am loved.

In my early days of coaching I would ask, "How are you, really?" Adding that one word seemed to remind the person that I truly wanted to know, to listen.

And sometimes it is just asking the right question. I prefer not to talk much about my work, it is a very internal process and I struggle to feel smart enough to discuss politics but I'll talk about kids and relationship and food with delight. I will talk about how I am longer than you'll want to listen!

I was sitting with how I could use the simple question of how are you for a prompt in Magic Making Circle. The possibilities started swirling like the snow that I had forgotten to check in on as I've lost myself in words.

Everything that goes into the circles comes from the act of living an ordinary life filled with extraordinary noticing and appreciation. The details, noticed and not rushed through, are presence.

I broke up with my phone months ago so that I could feel myself in my life, not be manipulated by algorithms and the next shiny person to come along. I touch in a few times a day but mostly I am in my life. I am looking for magic in snowflakes and sentences and warm pie.

My mission is to convince my kids to hang out with us longer after we've eaten and to not reach for their phones but instead be bored from time to time. The trick I am thinking is not to give them demands but to be present first. To be the example of living in a life of presence, not a performative playground of social media posts. To engage them differently than they are becoming used to with flashes of sound bites and reels about nothing.

I ask my kids how they are about fifteen times a day. It is my check in and they all are different in how they respond. Eli is like me and it all comes pouring out while Lucas just smiles and says, "Good," and snuggles or hugs me and eventually he'll have stories to tell.

How are you? Yes, there is a lot I can do with that one. With my partner I follow it up with, "Do you need anything?" Acts of service is not my primary love language but his and I will happily provide. If I vacuum a room or put away my clothes he feels loved.

The snow flakes are now tinier filling the air with white and the trees are holding them like powdered sugar dusted on a cake. The first snowfall quiets the sounds outside and I have convinced myself to make hot tea to warm my fingers.

Hot tea and cold pumpkin pie (the only way I like it) and the stillness of snow.

How are you? I have space to catch your words if you wish to send them.

xo H