That may sound like confusing and contradictory advice. But it’s something a few friends and I came up with recently, and I think if we all heeded it, we’d be healthier, happier, and in better shape mentally and physically. As individuals and as a society.

The discussion started because one of the members of our group is a high school teacher who is retiring at the end of this school year, and we were asking about her plans for the summer and beyond. She told us that people had already given her plenty of suggestions for what to do with all that free time she’s going to have.

“Why do I have to do anything?” she said. “My plans for a while are to do nothing.”

I brought up an old Spanish proverb I read long ago, which says, “How beautiful it is to do nothing, and then rest afterward.” That sounds awfully lazy at first glance, but it’s actually a pretty good commentary on the importance of proper rest and downtime – which is a foreign concept to many of us today. We run ourselves ragged trying to get more and more done, and we race against the clock in order to try getting everything done more and more quickly. We try to stuff more action and activity into every day than any 24-hour period was ever meant to hold, and as a result we miss out on most of it. On top of that, we’re damaging our health and well-being in the process.

So there’s a lot to be said for doing nothing.

But even “doing nothing” means different things to different people. My teacher friend said that for her, doing nothing means spending a lot of time reading, walking, and filling her days with other activities that she enjoys doing. The difference is whether something is a “have to” or a “want to.” Or the difference between work and play.

We got on the subject of exercise then, and she mentioned that the best advice of all that she has received – and which she has every intention of following – is to keep moving. Too many people retire and go into couch potato mode, becoming completely sedentary. Of course, many of them were pretty sedentary to begin with, even before retiring. So for some people, it’s not a big shift.

But a lack of physical activity brings on more than the obesity that’s a hallmark of our society today. Back pain, joint pain, and a whole host of other aches and ills can start showing up – or getting more severe – in people who aren’t getting enough exercise.

My friend has no intention of falling into that category. She’s already pretty active and plans to keep it up – ramping it up even more, in fact, now that she’s going to have some extra time available to her each day.

So that’s how we came up with the mantra, “Do nothing, and keep moving.” Take some time whenever you can to relax and unwind. Schedule downtime into your day – which I know is easier said than done, but should be said and done anyway. And schedule exercise into your day as well. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. A walk around the neighborhood is enough to help you start programming exercise into your day, and to get the habit going. From there you can build up to any level and type of exercise you wish to pursue. There are different benefits to different types of exercise, but the bottom line is that it’s all good, as long as you keep moving.

Feel free to adopt our new slogan as your own, if you care to. You don’t have to wait until you retire from your job. In fact, if you’re so busy that you can’t even imagine taking time to slow down, or squeezing in time to exercise, that’s probably a sign of how badly you need to do both. So aim for taking a few minutes every day, or a few hours whenever you can, and do nothing – whatever your definition of that may be.

And remember to keep moving.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on May 17, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012

My mind started to go numb as I sat there thinking, “Please don’t say zero. Please don’t say zero. Please don’t say zero.”

“There were 75,” she said.

“Really?” I thought. “Could that be?”

Needless to say, I was very grateful to hear this.

Googling your own name – that is, putting your name or company name into a search engine in order to find out where, how, and how often it is appearing in print and online – is advice that I hear on a regular basis. But it’s not something I do very often – usually only after I hear or read the advice again in a class, seminar, or newspaper article, when the reminder is fresh. And although I regularly express my gratitude to others, and I write about it occasionally in my column or elsewhere, I was still surprised to find it associated with my name in this way. It’s not something I set out to do, which makes it all the more rewarding.

Marketing advisors and advertising experts today all talk regularly about keywords and branding and search engine optimization. Finding, using, and capitalizing on the qualities and characteristics that define and describe you, or for which you want to be known, is an important business strategy. And you can raise your ranking and your visibility by purposefully including those words and descriptions in articles, ads, posts and tweets.
Whether or not you intentionally and deliberately use search engines and social media for business purposes, have you ever wondered what they might be saying about you? Are you curious about what words define and describe you, or what qualities and traits are associated with your name?
You don’t have to Google yourself to find out, of course. You can get this information from the people who know you. Or from yourself, if you’re able to ask and answer the question honestly and somewhat objectively. I’ve been in workshops and seminars where we were required to list the values and characteristics that were most important to us or that best described us. Or we were to ask others what they thought our defining qualities and characteristics were.
This can be eye-opening if the responses we give for ourselves are drastically different from those we get from others. Or when we realize that the values and traits we list as most important to us aren’t the ones that guide and govern our day-to-day lives. An inspirational quote defines integrity as how you act when nobody’s watching. And someone once suggested that if you want to know what’s most important to others, don’t ask them. Instead, look at their calendars and their checkbooks.

And now there’s another place we can look.

Although I don’t intend to Google my name alongside other qualities to see how often they show up, I am spending a bit of time thinking about what words and phrases I would like to see as serious contenders. “Respect” is the one I would hope to be on top, as it’s the trait I value most highly and try to live by most thoroughly. Others are “enthusiastic,” “compassionate,” “uplifting” and “inspiring,” and I appreciate when others use these words to describe me.
But it’s not our wanting to hear the words said about us that will determine whether or not they will be. And it’s not by planting them in our articles, ads, posts and tweets. It’s by how we act and how we live our lives that really makes the difference. And when it comes down to it, that’s all that really matters.
I’m glad I had the opportunity to reflect on this, and I plan to mention it next week to the person who brought it all out during our Toastmasters meeting. I want to let her know how much she inspired me, how much she motivated me, and how much she challenged me.

I’ll also tell her how grateful I am.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on May 10, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012

We arrived at the hotel around noon, but weren’t able to check in because our room wasn’t ready yet. So we went to the café next door to have some lunch. As we approached the restaurant, I could see two members of our Uganda team who were seated at a table next to the window. I ran up to the window, stooped down to get at eye level, and made a face at them through the glass. They looked up and laughed, and as they did I got a look at the other two people sitting at the table with them. I had never met either of them before, but I recognized one of them instantly – and immediately realized that I had just stuck my tongue out at the president and CEO of Lead Like Jesus.

By the time I got inside the restaurant, she had learned who I was, and she greeted me at the door with a hug and a smile. Because of Uganda – and some of the writing about it that I’ve done since then – she knew me by name, if not by face. And she told me that as soon as she saw me, she said to the others, “I have no idea who that is, but should I be making a face back at her?”

I’m pretty sure that for the rest of my life, I will always remember the day I met the woman who leads “Lead Like Jesus.”

You might expect that there would be a lot of praying and singing at the conference of an organization named “Lead Like Jesus.” And you would be correct. But there was also a lot of laughing, hugging, and story-telling throughout the weekend. It was an especially warm reunion for those of us who were in Uganda together, but I also found it exciting to meet in person some of the people whom I had known only by name or reputation, or as a voice on a conference call.

“Reconnect” was a good name for the conference, but it didn’t begin to do justice to all the connections that were made and strengthened, or the relationships that were built or begun during the weekend’s events. “Revelation” – no pun intended – would have been an accurate description as well, because even though there were people at the conference from all over the United States and as far away as Singapore, I kept hearing stories of people who discovered at some point that they had worshipped at the same church, or they had friends in common, or similar paths and associations in one way or another.

One of my favorite stories on that subject goes back to when we were in Uganda and discovered one morning that two members of our team – who were from totally different backgrounds and regions – had been in the same first grade class in Logan, Ohio. We had joked then that they were having a class reunion in Uganda but that they were the only two who showed up. They were now having another class reunion at the Reconnect – and even though Chicago was a lot closer to Ohio than Uganda was, they were still the only ones who showed up.

The conference wasn’t just about reconnecting, of course. We spent a full day with Dr. Jim Dennison, author of “Radical Islam: What You Need to Know.” I learned from him many things I truly did need to know, not only about radical Islam but about my own faith, and about cultures, values, beliefs and motivations – those at work here in the United States and in countries around the world. And in myself, as well. And during the rest of the weekend, I learned other things that are going to help me in virtually every area of my life – both personal and professional.

A delightful bonus was that by attending the conference I got to spend some extra time with Tabitha, who is not only a good friend but one of the most interesting and inspiring people I know. Of course, that may be why she’s such a good friend.

All in all, it was an amazing weekend, reminding me and reinforcing what it means to be like Jesus and to lead like Jesus. It’s a lifelong journey, and I’m happy to be on it, whether it takes me to places like Chicago and Atlanta or to Singapore and Uganda. Or to the windows of restaurants and cafés, where I can make faces and friends with the people on the other side.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on May 3, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012

I’ve never thought about my life as a dance before, and probably never would have if I hadn’t been asked that question during the Table Topics Speech Contest at the Toastmasters District Convention last weekend.

The exact question was this: “Life is a dance that you learn as you go along. What dance represents your life?”

When you’re asked a Table Topics question, especially in a contest, you don’t have time to think things through and plan out what you’re going to say. That’s the whole point. The purpose of Table Topics is to help you learn to think on your feet and organize your thoughts quickly.

“Conga line” was the first thought that popped into my mind, probably because we were in a banquet setting similar to that of a wedding reception. From there my brain hopped over to the chicken dance, and then landed on the hokey-pokey.

I first talked about the small town I grew up in, and about memories of doing the hokey-pokey at the weddings of friends and relatives. Then I talked about how different parts of the dance really do relate to life.

I didn’t win, place, or show in the contest, but I didn’t embarrass myself, either. I had fun, and as I reflected on it later, it occurred to me that even if I had all the time in the world to think about it and make a choice, the hokey-pokey would still offer a pretty good description of my life. Yours too, perhaps. Just think about some of the words:

“You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out…and you shake it all about.”

Whenever there’s something new or challenging we want to try, we often start small and take slow, hesitant steps. Baby steps. We get a foot in the door, or we test the waters. But often, when we step out of our comfort zone too far or too quickly, we immediately pull back and shake off the experience so we can start fresh on something else. A left elbow, perhaps.

Sometimes in life you have to stick your neck out, although that’s not one of the body parts mentioned in the hokey-pokey. Still, “You put your whole self in” whenever you reach the point where baby steps won’t get you where you want to go. You need to commit, so you jump in with everything you’ve got. And if you hit a rough patch or feel yourself slipping, you make whatever changes you need to in order to turn yourself around. That’s part of the hokey-pokey, too.

The Table Topics Contest was just one portion of the Spring Convention. I spent the rest of the weekend meeting new people, reconnecting with some I hadn’t seen in a while, and taking part in the activities, events, and educational sessions that were offered. I laughed, I listened, I shared and I grew. I also learned that no matter what best describes the dance of your life, the most important thing is to keep dancing. Because THAT’S what it’s all about.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on April 26, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012

“I’m going to have a lot of tea parties,” she told me. She added that it can take a lot of work to put together a luncheon or a dinner party. “But all you need is tea and a cookie, and you’ve got a tea party,” she said. “How much work is that? None!”

Tea and a cookie. What a concept.

I’m going to use this as a reminder whenever there’s a project I want to take on or an opportunity I want to pursue that seems so overwhelming and daunting that it stops me before I even get started. I imagine the equivalent of a huge party or a major event, with an eight-course meal, fresh flowers, and a live band. I don’t know where to start, and because of that, I sometimes don’t start at all.

But now, thanks to my friend, I know exactly where to start. With tea and a cookie. Or whatever that translates to with regard to starting small, taking on what I know I can handle, and building from there. Even a tea party – a real one – can grow from “tea and a cookie” to a large, formal affair with tea and crumpets and white gloves and cucumber sandwiches. Right now, I don’t think I’d recognize a crumpet even if I saw one. But I know what a cookie is.
So whenever I find myself staring down – or being paralyzed by – a huge or daunting project, I’ll just tell myself, “Tea and a cookie.” And I’ll get started.

The other insight I got last week was actually just a different way of looking at something that’s a normal and necessary part of business – and our personal relationships, too. It has to do with networking and making connections and finding peers and partners and associates for the things we need and want to do.
As my friend and I were talking about several projects we are working on together, she mentioned two other friends of hers. They hadn’t known each other before she introduced them, and they are now wonderful resources for each other. She also mentioned someone she wants me to meet, which she does on a regular basis. In the past, she’s put me in touch with people who have been invaluable in my writing career, in planning my trip to Uganda, and in general.

When I told her how much I admire and appreciate her for doing this, she just shrugged and said, “Favorite people should meet favorite people.”
I’m honored and delighted to know I’m one of her favorite people, but I’m also inspired to be more like her and to do more of what she does. Arranging a get-together in person may be impractical or time-consuming, but it doesn’t take a major effort to send two people an email that says, “I thought you two should know each other (or know about each other), and here’s why.”

That’s the tea and cookie version, and it’s something I can easily do.

Sometimes we make a big production out of things that really aren’t a big production. Or they don’t need to be. They can be quick and simple, like tea and a cookie. And they can make a world of difference in what we accomplish and achieve. For our favorite people, and for ourselves.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on April 19, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012

I was asked that question last week during Table Topics at a Toastmasters meeting I attended.

Table Topics is the time, during every Toastmasters meeting, when we practice thinking on our feet and organizing our thoughts on the fly. The Table Topics Master asks a question, and then calls on someone to answer it. That person then has to spend one to two minutes responding to the question.
Note that “responding” to the question is not necessarily the same as “answering” the question. If you don’t know how to answer, or you’d rather not, you can twist the question around and turn it into something you’d rather talk about instead. For instance, you might say, “That’s a really interesting question, and it reminds me of something that happened just the other day…” and then go off into another topic. Sometimes, it’s not what you say, but how you say it, that matters. And Table Topics helps you speak with confidence and conviction, no matter what the subject.

Still, it’s more fun responding to a Table Topics question when you do have an interest in the subject. So I lucked out with this one.

I am one of the people who do make New Year’s Resolutions every year, and I acknowledged that right away in responding to the question. Then I added that I’m keeping it so far and that, in fact, I always keep my resolutions. That’s because my New Year’s Resolution every year is to improve in some way.
The specifics of my resolution will be different from year to year. Sometimes they’ll be on-going behavioral changes, such as eliminating a bad habit or developing a healthy new one. Sometimes they will relate to a particular act or accomplishment I want to achieve. One year I resolved to get organized once and for all. That hasn’t entirely happened yet, but I’m a lot more organized in a number of ways than I used to be. And I continue to work at it. Plus, this resolution inspired a Tall Tales Speech in which I talked about how organized and uncluttered I felt as soon as I threw out all my books on getting organized. And how I found Jimmy Hoffa’s skeleton – among other things – when I decided to clean out my office closet. I actually won a few Toastmasters Contests with that Tall Tale speech, although I’m not sure if that’s something I should be bragging about.

I know that a lot of people don’t even bother making New Year’s Resolutions, and for many it’s because they consider it a foregone conclusion that they’ll eventually break them. Some people even joke about this by saying, “My New Year’s Resolution is not to make any New Year’s Resolutions.” Since they’re just trying to be clever and funny, I never point out that by even making a resolution like that, they’ve already broken it.

Still, I think a lot of good comes from New Year’s Resolutions, and I’d like to see more people making them and keeping them. So, since I just got reminded about them, and since we’re now in the season of growth and renewal, I’d like to encourage you right now to make a new resolution to improve in some way. Choose whatever you’d like for the specifics and the details, and work as long and as hard as you can toward achieving them. If you do – great! But even if you don’t, acknowledge how far you’ve come and how much you have achieved. And remember that if you’ve improved in any way, then you’ve kept your resolution. And you can build from there.

By the way, it was a New Year’s Resolution that first brought me to Toastmasters, although it was May of that year before I finally attended a meeting. And it was June before I actually joined. Still, it was one of the best decisions – and New Year’s Resolutions – I ever made.
Maybe I’ll get a Table Topics question on that subject someday. I hope so. And if I do, I’ll know exactly how to respond.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on April 12, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012

That’s probably not something you hear or say very often. We wear shoes and socks much of the time, and most of the walking we do is indoors or on paved roads and parking lots. You probably wash your feet when you take your shower every day, but most likely you don’t think about it even then. You just do it.

“Washing of the feet,” however, is something many of us think about during the Easter season – especially on Holy Thursday, when people of many religions relive the story of the Last Supper. This is when Jesus washed the feet of the apostles, modeling for them the service to others that he was instructing and expecting them to do.

Many churches’ Holy Thursday services include a ceremony of washing of the feet. I’ve never taken part in it at church, but I have at a different place and time. And also in an unexpected way.

When I was in Uganda for several weeks last October, I spent much of that time helping with a series of Lead Like Jesus Leadership Encounters. This is a program that uses the life of Christ as an example of servant leadership, and it includes a powerful ceremony that symbolizes the washing of the feet that Jesus did for the apostles. Each participant is given a small, square shoe cloth, and they are instructed to wash the feet – meaning rub the cloth over the shoes – of someone else in the room.

One of my jobs was to distribute the cloths at the start of this ceremony, and I always kept one for myself and “washed the feet” of other people who were taking part in the Encounter. Some of them washed my feet, as well. The experience was both humbling and empowering, no matter which end of the cloth you were on.

Some of our Encounters were in the town of Iganga, which is where my friend Tabitha grew up, and where many of her relatives still live. When we first arrived in Iganga, her father hosted a dinner for us at his home. We enjoyed an outdoor buffet, with tables and chairs set up in the front yard and protected by canopies from the light rain that fell for part of the afternoon. Shortly before we left, the light rain turned into a downpour, and by the time we climbed back on the bus, my legs, feet, and sandals were splattered with mud. It was caked and dry by the time we got to the hotel, and I couldn’t wait to get to my room and clean up.

As I rinsed the mud from my legs and feet, enjoying the feel of the warm water, it occurred to me that I was having my own “washing of the feet” ceremony. I smiled at the thought, but then was struck by a powerful revelation: This is what it was like in Jesus’ time.

Not the indoor plumbing and running water, obviously, but the washing of the feet. It wasn’t a symbolic gesture or ceremony. It was an important and necessary part of the day – a day in which feet and sandals were the normal mode of transportation, and the roads that people traveled were dirty, dusty, and at times muddy. To wash someone’s feet was to take care of their everyday needs, like feeding them or clothing them or tending to them when they were sick or injured.

It suddenly gave everything a new meaning for me. I had traveled 8,000 miles to come to Africa, and it now also felt as if I had traveled 2,000 years back in time. I understood something I thought I already knew, and I saw the meaning and the reality behind something I had always considered to be simply a symbolic gesture.

I am reliving all this as I attend the Easter liturgies at my church this year, taking part in the ceremonies and rituals of the season. I am seeing and enjoying them all in a new way, with my eyes, my mind, and my heart open wider than ever before. And with clean, happy feet.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on April 5, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012

I was sitting on the sofa in my family room, doing my prayer exercise. This is a ritual – part prayer, part journal, part asking God for advice – that grew out of a class I once took. Now it’s something I do every morning.

The past few weeks had been extremely busy, with the kind of work that made me feel like I was taking one step forward and two steps back – spreading myself too thin, being pulled in too many directions, and leaving too many tasks and issues neglected and unresolved.

“I don’t know what to say,” my prayer journal began. “I don’t know what to ask for. I don’t know what to pray for that I haven’t before.”

“Despair” is way too strong a word to use to describe how I was feeling, but I certainly wasn’t my normal upbeat, positive self. Instead, I felt myself heading toward a good, cleansing cry.
And that’s when it happened.

As I continued writing, I suddenly realized I was squinting. But it wasn’t from tears, it was because the sun had just peeked into view through the window above a bookcase on the far wall. As I looked up and saw the sunlight now streaming into the room, it dawned on me – no pun intended – that I’d had this exact same experience once before.

It was over 12 years ago, just a few months after my family had moved to Minnesota from Colorado. It was a September morning, and my two kids – 14 and 11 at the time – had just left for the first day at their new schools. I was sitting at my kitchen table, having a cup of coffee and reflecting on our move. And hoping that the kids wouldn’t feel lost and alone on their first day, after transferring from a small Catholic school in Colorado to large public schools here. On that first morning, I was feeling a twinge of guilt and worry. Nothing significant, just mom stuff.

Suddenly I was blinded by the light. The sun had just reached the edge of the window, sending a bright ray of sunlight right into my eyes. At the time, I took it as the sign of a bright new day and as a symbol of promising new adventures – for myself as well as my kids.

All of that came rushing back to me as I was talking and writing to God on that recent morning. And I realized that even if I was feeling severely overwhelmed and overscheduled at the moment, it wasn’t going to last. There was a bright new morning right in front of me, with endless possibilities.

I also realized that God was answering my prayers, my requests, and my questions – even the ones I hadn’t really asked. It made me think of the times I was told, as a child, that God always answers our prayers, but that sometimes the answer is “No.” And of the lessons I learned as an adult, that God answers our prayers but we don’t always realize it because we’re not really listening for the answer. Or because it doesn’t look the way we wanted or expected it to.

Suddenly I felt much better. Positive and upbeat again. I took the shining morning sun as a message from God, telling me that there were indeed bright new days and promising new adventures ahead. The change in me was immediate and miraculous, and I couldn’t wait to get on with my day – which I planned to do as soon as I finished my prayer exercise that morning. It ended, as it always does, with my own message back to God: Thank you.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on March 29, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012

A similar realization struck me not long ago, as Ash Wednesday and the Lenten season approached. I follow my faith’s Lenten rules of fast and abstinence, which include abstaining from meat on Ash Wednesday and all Fridays during Lent, and fasting by eating only one full meal – with two other very small meals and no eating between meals – on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. The abstinence rule applies to everyone 14 years of age and older, and the fasting rule is for those who are over 18 and under 59.

Since I’m long past the ages of 14 and 18, I never pay attention to the numbers when I reread the Lenten reminders that appear in our church bulletin and the Catholic newspaper every year. But this time, the “59” jumped out at me, and I realized that next year I’ll be on the other side of the restriction.

As a religious practice, I still plan on honoring the fasting guidelines during Lent, but what struck me is that I won’t have to. I’ll be old enough to be exempt.

It’s with a bit of surprise, but mostly amusement, that I catch myself approaching these signs of “old age,” just as it was when I received my first AARP mailing a number of years ago. I’m sure it would be different if I really felt old – if I were developing new aches and pains every day, or if all my friends and associates were starting to retire or fade away into the sunset. Or if I were starting to get that nagging sense that the best years of my life were already behind me instead of ahead of me.
But none of that’s true. In fact, a number of times over the years I’ve been figuring out all over again what I want to be and do when I grow up. Even now I regularly come across new ideas and adventures that I want to explore. And I usually do, at least to the extent of learning more about them. I don’t jump in with both feet to every new option or opportunity that comes along, but I like knowing that I can. And that if I don’t pursue something, it’s because I don’t care to invest the time or effort it requires – which is a whole different ballgame away from not pursuing it because I think I’m too old.
One of my favorite television commercials, in fact, is the AARP one that features active, older men and women saying things like, “When I grow up, I want to fix up old houses.” Or run a marathon. Or start a band.

Me, too. Not those things specifically. But things that would probably seem better suited to someone much younger than I am. Or someone who’s in better shape, or who has more education and training and expertise.

I can’t go back in time and become that younger person, or change the education, training, experience or expertise that I’ve already acquired. But I can certainly start from where I am. So can anyone, no matter how many candles are on their birthday cake.

With each new milestone decade I reach – meaning the birthdays that end in zero – I find myself more and more excited about what’s yet ahead, rather than reminiscent of what I’ve left behind. And I realize that each decade has been more enjoyable, enriching and empowering than the one before. I have no reason to think that the next one will be any different. And I’m pretty sure that’s why I feel, in many ways, like I’m getting younger every day.

I’m also pretty sure it’s going to be the same way for my friend who just turned 50. She’s that kind of person. And in the time I’ve known her, I’ve seen her jump into new areas and endeavors, with a big smile and with great enthusiasm. I think she’s another person who’s getting younger every day.

I probably should have written THAT on her birthday card, too.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on March 22, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012

That was certainly my reaction one day last week when I attended a meeting whose purpose was to talk. Just – talk.

Actually, there was a bit more of an agenda than that. The meeting was a Stewardship Dialogue sponsored by the Stellar Impact Foundation. I’ve crossed paths several times with one of the founders of the organization, and we’ve had several conversations recently about work I’m now doing that began with my trip to Uganda last October. It was during one of these conversations that she invited me to the next Stewardship Dialogue.

The name is pretty self-explanatory, and even though I’d never heard of a Stewardship Dialogue before, I was intrigued with the idea. Especially since the point wasn’t simply to talk, but to put the talk into action. The meeting was an exchange of thoughts and ideas about ways to bring about change in our communities and in the world.

There were eight people at the meeting I attended. Most were “regulars,” but one or two others were first-timers like me. Some worked for companies large and small, some were in the non-profit sector, and some were self-employed entrepreneurs. There were five men and three women in the group, which is not the gender breakdown I would have expected – although I hope I don’t sound sexist or judgmental for saying so.

What I found most fascinating and encouraging was that the group represented people with vastly different backgrounds and interests, but who were eager to talk with each other, learn from each other, and be inspired by each other. Although each of us had a cause or mission that was important to us, none of us shared the exact same hope or dream. Yet what was expressed by anyone was of interest to everyone – and was valued by everyone, not just those whose specific goals or intentions matched our own.

As one person put it, “This is a place where you can be you without rehearsal.” Meaning you didn’t have to plan out what you were going to say, or prepare a compelling argument or a convincing sales pitch. There was no competing for funding or resources or personnel, just a sharing of thoughts and ideas and suggestions – things that you yourself don’t lose when you give them to someone else.

As I understand it, there are plans to develop and expand the Stewardship Dialogues and to provide opportunities for people who do have similar or complementary goals to get in touch with each other and work together. At the very least, they can help and support each other rather than duplicating each other’s efforts or canceling out each other’s impact. And at best, their results and effects will grow exponentially as they pool their resources and efforts in a common goal. The whole is, after all, much greater than the sum of its parts.

I like that thought. And I like being part of a group of people whose purpose is simply to talk and to listen to each other so that everyone is able to accomplish much more than they would be able to do on their own.

It may start with a simple dialogue, but it can grow into conversations and crusades that change not just the community but the world. In important, life-or-death matters such as hunger, homelessness, poverty and disease.

That’s certainly something worth talking about, especially when talk turns into action that can be seen, heard and felt around the world.

You’d have to get up pretty early in the morning to beat that.

To learn more about Stewardship Dialogues or the Stellar Impact Foundation, call Christy Morrell-Stinson at 612-321-8753.

The column “Find Your Buried Treasure” appears weekly in the Chanhassen (MN) Villager. This column was published on March 15, 2012.
© Betty Liedtke, 2012