Lisa notes

On July 1, I pulled the little frame out of my One Word jar.

I rested it against the outside of the jar. It’s a simple gesture—this monthly change of symbols—but an intentional one.

The July focus for my One Word, Shift, is Reframe—specifically, shifting identities that no longer fit.

Because what we frame is what we preserve.

What We Choose to Frame

The following week, I (finally!) got my turn with the popular novel Theo of Golden from my library. When I came across this passage, I had to pause.

“How is it,” Theo wondered, “that a piece of paper—a letter, a photo, a ticket stub, a sketch, a painting—is suddenly transformed by placing it in four bits of wood beneath a pane of glass? What does it mean that we place permanent boundaries around transient moments? What does it say of humankind that we take such trouble to freeze specific memories, that we devote such energy to capturing and preserving the ‘minute particulars’ of our lives?”

Yes, Theo. I also am wondering.

When we love something so much that we put it behind glass and surround it with a frame, we’re immortalizing it. We’re saying, This matters to me.

For a long while—maybe for decades—this may hold true.

But sometimes? That immortalizing might keep us from noticing what we’ve been outgrowing. And what new things want to come to light.

I’ve been asking myself these questions this month.

• What have I framed about myself that no longer fits?
• Which interests have faded away?
• What stories do I tell myself that are no longer true?

Loosening the Back of the Frame

I started a list: Things I No Longer Need to Be.

At the very top is a role I’ve desperately wanted to keep. But it’s one I can no longer fully inhabit, for reasons beyond my control.

I’ve resisted that reality for a long time. Part of me still does. I don’t want to let it go. Maybe one day the opportunity will return, and I can wear the identity of that role once more. So for now, I don’t throw away the frame.

But I do make a shift.

I loosen up the little tabs on the back of the metaphorical frame. I toy with reframing this piece of my identity a bit differently. Place it on a higher shelf. At least for a little while longer.

I leave space for the story that is still unfolding.

Leaving the Frame Empty

Then I made a second list: New Things to Try—Without Defining Myself by Them.

I jotted down a handful of possibilities. Some small. Some large. But with no pressure. No permanent tying of my identity with them. Just curiosity.

I’ve seen how the world shifts. And how it shifts me.

So I won’t rush to place these new possibilities behind glass either.

Maybe someday.
Maybe never.

For now, I simply hold the literal empty frame in my hands and imagine all the photographs it has displayed over the years.

Today it holds none.

Not because there are no pictures to place inside it, but because there are still so many possibilities.

Perhaps that’s what reframing really is—honoring the past, while leaving enough space for the next picture to emerge.

Is there an identity or label you wear that could use a reframe, too? Share in the comments.

When Panic Takes Over

My friend answers the phone. It’s a stranger in distress.

The caller is having a medical emergency. His words overflow in a panic—fear, confusion, details that don’t quite matter.

I’d be tempted to interrupt with, “Calm down. I can’t understand you.”

But that’s one thing my friend does NOT say.
Because she knows it doesn’t help.

This is her job. She works for a medical answering service. She knows exactly what to do.

She also knows that people in crisis usually can’t “just calm down” merely because someone tells them to.

When our nervous system gets flooded with stress hormones, the emotional part of our brain takes over. It’s biology. In those moments, people don’t need someone to tell them to be rational. Hearing that advice might actually make it worse, causing more frustration, making them feel dismissed.

What they need is someone who can remain steady alongside them until they can think clearly again on their own.

A Steady Presence

So on the call, my friend falls back on her training. She shows empathy, but she remains focused on her role: get help for the person in need.

In a reassuring tone, she asks the right questions about the caller’s symptoms so she can determine if this is a life-threatening emergency that should go directly to 911 or if the situation needs another solution. She makes sure they understand any next steps they need to take. She gathers their callback information.

She gently but firmly keeps the conversation focused on what matters most.

I’ve never heard her on one of these calls, but I can imagine why she’s so good at her job. I know how well she listens to me when I’m upset. She asks good questions. She gives me reassurance. She doesn’t dismiss my feelings.

She never tells me to “just calm down.”

She simply stays with me until I do.

Some Things Don’t Need to Shift

As I continue to work this year with my One Word—Shift—I’m looking at the many things that change in life. Some shifts we make ourselves; others happen without our permission.

But some things don’t need to shift.

Some things are worth protecting, kept just as they are.

My friend’s ability to stay focused on what matters most in a crisis reminds me of the kind of person I want to be.

I want to listen well.
I want to ask good questions.
I want to stay focused on the main thing.

And I want my presence to communicate what my friend’s steady presence communicates to me: even when life keeps shifting, love doesn’t have to.

What helps you when you’re overwhelmed? Share your thoughts in the comments.