Showing Up.

Bill Gates, Sr., wrote a book and entitled it, Showing Up for Life.  We all know the Woody Allen quote:  "Eighty percent of success is showing up."  There are a number of similar, equally good, lesser known aphorisms:

Hope beings in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.  You wait and watch and work; you don't give up.  (Anne Lamott)

The world is run by those who show up. (Unknown)

Most of my life, I've operated on the notion that showing up (80%) is a given--not really a choice, and its that 20% that you do once you show up that really matters.  More and more, though, I find myself needing to rely on the "just show up" philosophy for motivation.  Like those mid-winter, early mornings when the moon is just a sliver, the house is dark and cold, the mercury near the bottom of the thermometer outside, and I am shielded from it all beneath heavy blankets on the bed, listening to the soft snores of the kitty and pup beside me.  Like those days when I have a meeting with a new client, or someone I don't know well, and I actually have to get dressed up and look presentable.  On the days when I have the opportunity to participate in a symposium or meet new people at a social gathering, and it all just seems so overwhelming.  On those days, which for whatever reason seem to be more frequent and foreboding than in the past, I actually find myself turning to, of all inspirations, the words of Woody Allen:  Show up.   Show up and perhaps great things will happen.  Show up, and perhaps it will be a mess, but it will be an experience, a memory, the possibility for something.

So it was, despite the pleasant anticipation of Easter morning, I found myself in bed, still fighting off the pangs of the migraine that plagued me most of Saturday, and thinking of the Sunrise Service that was on my calendar.  It was 5:00 a.m. and the kitties had not taken the holiday off--they were meowing and growling and letting me know that if I didn't get out of bed and let them outside, they would miss prime hunting.  My right eye socket was still throbbing.  In that sort of half-wake, half-sleep state when ideas seem more sane than they might otherwise and action more work than it might be, I thought of all the reasons that it made sense to stay in bed and enjoy the morning sunrise and celebration of Easter from there.

Of all words to inspire me on Easter Sunday, those of Woody Allen. 

Show up.

And so I did.  Running early, I dallied around a bit at the house, feeding the horses and enjoying the sunrise up from the mountain before leaving the house in plenty of time to arrive for the 6:30 sunrise service at Suncadia as marked on my calendar.

I showed up.  And I missed it.  The Sunrise Service at Suncadia, that is.  I pulled into the parking lot just before 6:30 and noticed a line of people bundled in their coats, holding programs, cups of coffee, and headed across the road.  Just in time, I thought.  These folks must be departing from the foyer of the Inn at Suncadia and walking over to the 9th tee where they would have the service (though I knew that normally the service took place overlooking the 18th hole, from the Inn).  I wandered into the Inn to get a program.

It soon became apparent that the service must have begun at 6:00 a.m., rather than the 6:30 a.m. that I had written on my calendar.  These folks were not heading outdoors to gather for the service, but heading outdoors to get into their cars and go home, or to Easter brunch, or to an early morning egg hunt.

I showed up.  I had gotten out of bed, put on the watermelon pink pants that seemed like a good idea when I bought them, bundled up, and driven to Suncadia, almost entirely motivated by the notion that it was enough to "just show up."  Don't worry about socializing or that people will think you are just an "Easter Christian," just show up.  The irony was not lost on me.  The result had somewhat proven wrong my newfound philosophy and motivation that showing up is enough.  Maybe there is more to life that just showing up.  But, it's certainly a start.  It makes good things possible.

Because I showed up, I enjoyed an incredible morning in a way I had not anticipated. 

I did have Sunrise Service, with the birds and the wind as the choir, and every bit of nature serving as testimony to the Creator of this world and all that is in it.  I did not hurry, I was not anxious for the service to end (or begin), and somehow everything I saw seemed to speak of Easter.  Even the Suncadia logo on the tee markers seemed unmistakeably appropriate.

It was worth showing up.  And I wasn't the only one whose "show up" timing was slightly off:

But those sprinklers, they didn't care that it was 29 degrees.  They just did their thing.  And it was magical.

So was the rest of my Easter Day.

Mom and John stopped by to drop off Riley and enjoy an afternoon hike.  I'll be on dogsitting duty for the next week. 

 Today's Song:  Just Showed Up for My Own Life by Sara Groves.  Lyrics here.

And I just showed up for my own life
And I'm standing here taking it in and it sure looks bright
I'm going to live my life inspired
Look for the holy in the common place
Open the windows and feel all that's honest and real until I'm truly amazed.


Showing up = Good.  Real Good.