Less Prep, More Presence

“freedom watch” 2024, part 4

I chose a guiding word for 2024—the word freedom. I’m reflecting on the word freedom regularly in the Blue Room, to see how it’s guiding and challenging my life, with hope that these explorations will guide you into greater freedom as well! 

Part 1: freedom means accepting difficulty but reducing misery
Part 2: freedom means doing nothing extra
Part 3: freedom means not fighting with reality

Before I get to the fourth installment, I wanted to share how I am letting the word freedom guide me. Like, what do I do with it? I agree with James Clear in Atomic Habits, that we don’t rise to the level of our goals, we fall to the level of our systems. If we want to change, it’s not enough to set an intention or latch onto a piece of wisdom—we need to revisit it regularly, stitch it into everyday life. 

Occasionally I’ve gotten a bracelet from Etsy with my word for the year stamped on it. Putting it on and taking it off each day becomes a prompt for reflection. No jewelry this year, but I let my coach and my weekly accountability friend know that I’m working on finding more freedom in my life, which allows them to ask how that’s going. Their reminders help, along with the space to process. But the best thing I’ve done is incorporate it into my nightly journal¹:

3 things that went well today
3 things that could have gone better
3 things I’m grateful for
1 way freedom showed up in my day (insert your word or intention of choice)

Hmm. 3+3+3+1=10… and the whole thing takes less than 10 minutes. Self-help gurus have created entire media empires on less than that. “My 10x10 practice will change your life and whiten your teeth! Learn how for just two installments of $69.95.” And yet here I am, giving it away. I guess I’ll never be on Oprah’s podcast. Alas.

Anyway, on to freedom, part four:

One of the core principles of Emergent Strategy by adrienne maree brown is less prep, more presence.

Source

By temperament, I’m an over-preparer. Rarely have I led a retreat or spoken at an event without having slides and content left over at the end. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Having a lot of content on hand means you’re ready to flow with the Spirit and the interests of the group. Meticulous preparation can be like Hermione’s beaded bag—it’s got everything you might need in there, from essence of dittany to Phineas Nigellus’s portrait. 

The problem is, we don’t live in the magical world, so our own beaded bags can get heavy. We become weighed down by tons of content (pun intended), reducing our flexibility. Coming in uber-prepared also plays into the Expert Model: I’m the teacher and you’re the learner. If you’re a particle physicist, then sure—there’s knowledge you have that I don’t. But in the church, and in similar organizations, the Expert Model fosters a sense that there are people who are proficient and people who aren’t. I don’t discount the value of knowledge and wisdom. But in the spaces where I work, we’re co-creating a lot together.

Now in middle age, and with decades of ministry experience under my belt, I have a better sense of how long things will take, which allows me to calibrate my preparation. But also, the mental library is already full of experience and wisdom to bring to bear—I can’t not bring it into the room with me. So one of the best things I can offer when I speak or teach is to have a general idea of where I want us to go, then pay attention to what’s happening in the room, and trust that what’s needed will come—through me or through others. This is a growing edge but one I’m interested in exploring. There’s freedom in feeling like I’m already enough; I don’t need to hustle for more. 

Here’s how less prep, more presence showed up for me recently. For the past few years at Preacher Camp, I’ve had the task of leading morning prayer, along with another colleague. I remember the first time I had this job. It was year two, when we were still young upstarts with lots to prove to ourselves and one another. And oh, the beautiful (and lengthy) prayers and liturgies I spent hours wordsmithing! 

Now it’s year sixteen. This time around, in the spirit of less prep, more presence, my “preparation” involved throwing some basic worship supplies into my bag, along with a book or two. Before each morning prayer time, I spent a few moments, thinking about the energy of the group, what we’d been discussing, and put together a simple flow of morning prayer that responded to what I was sensing.

Back in year two, I wrote a reaffirmation of ordination vows, in which we asked and answered each of the questions we were asked when we became pastors, followed by a short prayer I wrote. It was a meaningful experience for all, to the point that we repeated it annually for a while. I think it was pretty good, and even got picked up by some churchy magazine for publication afterward.

Pretty, pretty words.

This year, I wanted to acknowledge our vocation as pastors and caregivers, but instead of a bunch of weighty words, I wondered if we might offer a blessing to each other instead. So I brought a small vial of oil, which we passed around, anointing one another with a cross on the forehead, which is sometimes a feature of baptism and ordination. Each blessing was extemporaneous, unique to the people giving and receiving it, and there was plenty of laughter to leaven the proceedings.

At another morning prayer service, I wanted to give people space to name some of the people they’d buried the previous year, or other griefs that we are called to bear witness to as pastors, but don’t necessarily have the space to process in the moment. On day two, our morning prayer centered around lighting votive candles as people named people and situations that were on our hearts. 

Less prep, more presence means things happen that you can’t always predict. Early that morning I had put sand in the trays where the votives would be placed, and used more sand to anchor the taper candle in its glass holder. 

It was a matter of practicality, but something unexpected happened. As the taper burned, it melted into the sand in the holder until it became a de facto pillar candle. I kept watching for it to go out on its own, but it didn’t. It stayed lit all day and well into the evening. 

Freedom means less prep, more presence… with delightful surprises along the way, beyond our imagining.

Your Turn

• What does less prep, more presence mean to you? 

• How does (or could) the idea show up in your life? 

~

What I’m Up To

We had our first book talk on Monday, in which Blue Room supporting subscribers are helping me think about some of the ideas in the book I’m writing. It was a less prep more presence experience, in that I didn’t feel the need to present anything formal—just offered a couple of thoughts, then relished the wisdom shared in the discussion. Future gatherings may involve short snippets of the book for feedback, so if that sounds interesting, consider a supporting subscriptions. Members and friends of Trinity Presbyterian Herndon are eligible for complimentary subscriptions—just ask. 

Steady on.

1. it’s a nightly practice, which means I do it 2-3 times a week at best ¯\_(ツ)_/¯