Get Tired

530. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

It is very late and I am too tired to write. It is a surprisingly yummy feeling to be this tired, to know there are thoughts in there somewhere – some might even be coherent – but the layer of fuzz wrapped around my brain makes the thoughts just slightly out of my reach. There are many paths to illumination and I will dub this route “stupid Zen.” Of course, the problem with stupid Zen is it’s not trustworthy: life is, according to the Balinese, a shadow puppet play. We only see the shadows, the illusion, so riding the horse of exhaustion into the illusion of illumination seems counterproductive.

It is not so much an altered state as much as…a state. In the absence of coherent thought there is no need for alteration. With reason tucked in for the night, thought is more apt to go off the trail and lose itself in the forest. The cool night air, the sound of the waves against the seawall are more available; I am more able to give myself over to the little things which, I know, are really the important things: when I am this tired I can be no where else but here.

I heard this quote today, I can’t remember where, but it just bubbled to the top and I’ve just decided that for sheer tenacity this will be the first verse in the book of stupid Zen:

“I prefer to be wrong, it is so much more interesting than thinking I am right.”

What’s At Your Feet?

529. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

For the past several months I have been interested in the marks we make on the ground. I often wander the streets with my camera and take photos of the ubiquitous marks at my feet. City engineers spray alien looking symbols in green and orange paint on sidewalks and streets. There are symbols everywhere if you pay attention: the universal walking man to demarcated crosswalks and walkways, bicycle shapes indicating lanes for things with wheels, “stop here” in bold letters, lane lines, curb lines, crosswalk stripes, chalk drawings, sprayed messages, stencils, scratched names and dates. I imagine I am an alien from another planet gathering samples of culture and ponder what does this overwhelming impulse to make marks, to define and apply symbol on the ground say about earthlings in the USA, 2012? They are beautiful when you pretend that you don’t know what they mean. My inner alien has sometimes exclaimed, “These earthlings like to draw on everything. They have an extraordinary impulse toward beauty and expression!”

Someone once told me that the unique challenge facing our culturally diverse democracy is that we must constantly define ourselves; we do not share a common narrative, we certainly have wildly divided ideas even about the simplest of terms like “marriage” and “patriotism,” so each day we must work hard to know where we fit, we must daily reinvent ourselves to know who we are in the absence of really knowing. We debate, not to clarify, but to know what we believe. The good folks on Madison Avenue, working so hard to sell us stuff, would have a miserable job if we truly knew who we were (secure in our identity, we would laugh at the notion that red shoes or a new car would make us more appealing).

The marks made by the engineers are practical: the sewer line goes here. The crosswalks, bike lanes, lane lines, directional arrows, etc., are also practical if not highly revealing; my inner alien eventually comes to recognize, much to his chagrin, that these marks are not art but rules: walk here, ride here, go this direction, look both ways; the earthlings in the USA, 2012 are an ordered bunch! Despite their rhetoric and emphasis on individualism they like their rules. They prefer the pre-determined path; they like to know which way to walk and when. They value conformity and compliance; this, at least, does not warrant a debate: all the evidence you need is waiting at your feet.

Sit In The Most Comfortable Chair In The World

528. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Just off the pier jutting into Lake Winnisquam in southern New Hampshire, sitting in 3 feet of water, is the most comfortable chair in the world. I know because Drew told Lora about the chair’s status as she considered sitting in it. “Oh, you have to sit,” he said, “It’s the most comfortable chair in the world.” How can you let a thing like that go by? Lora sat in the chair, only her head remained above the water and she immediately giggled with pleasure.

The most comfortable chair in the world is white plastic with a leaf pattern meant to give it the appearance of wrought iron; it looks heavy but is very light so it bobs and moves with the motion of the water. When sitting in the most comfortable chair in the world, you move as the chair moves; you are taken with the delicate motion of the water, you sit into a gentle rhythmic water massage. Go with it and your troubles, stresses, aches and pains disappear. Resist it, try to control it and you tip over backwards and dunk yourself. The chair seems to know whether you are capable of giving into the comfort, capable of accepting it’s gift, or trying to control your experience. It will toss you if are not ready to accept what it brings.

As I listened to Drew explain the perils and pleasures of the chair, I knew I was witness to an especially relevant life metaphor (they are everywhere!). Chose to sit in it or not. If you do, relax into the experience and ride the wave; it will massage you if you let it. Fight it and you will lose your balance. The dunking you get is, after all, a result of resisting the natural motion. The most comfortable chair in the world demands presence. It is fluid and ever changing and paradoxically, giving into it – living into a process – will tickle your tension away. You just might find yourself giggling.

Be A Rejuvenation Fairy

527. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Dear Lisa,

A promise is a promise. Since I learned that your summer was absent of any real and lasting rejuvenation, you’ll remember that I volunteered and made a commitment to invoking rejuvenation on your behalf. Essentially I have dedicated myself to being your rejuvenation fairy.

I will not leave quarters, dimes, or dollars under your pillow – at this stage of the game it would be inappropriate for you to lose teeth to put under your pillow especially for such low rewards. No, my intervention will be more surprise oriented. You might, for instance, note that I spent the evening smearing paint on a very large canvas and then covering the canvas with tissue paper and Mod Podge. This was an invocation event. Therefore, you have, probably by now, experienced an undeniable desire to paint with your fingers; I take no responsibility for the friends, pets, or family members that might get in the way of your sudden imperative to slap Mod Podge on tissue paper with an enormous brush. It was exhilarating for me so I assume, now that the power is turned on, that you will collage electric! Prepare yourself for waves of inspiration that will overtake you for I plan to dance and fling paint like a happy Jackson Pollock (I apologize to Harry ahead of time for what you may do in the grips of your uncontrollable paint throwing to the newly painted walls in your newly painted house). Remember, rejuvenation fairies have a deniability clause in their contract so if you go too far and too fast into renewal you are on your own to explain it. I have never been able to explain it so, even without the clause I’d simply shrug my shoulders and say, “…don’t know.”

It is not beyond me to organize a collection to supply you with Liz dates (the most amazing massage therapist ever) and, as you know, your clan is not beyond kidnapping you and delivering you to Liz (she is formidable so struggling is not recommended). Consider yourself on notice that a rejuvenation kidnap event might happen at any moment. Liz may be warming up; she might already be ready for you.

Here’s the thought to keep in mind: Just like good deeds done in the world are for the benefit of all, just as one member of the community cannot improve themselves without the entire community benefiting, so it goes with rejuvenation. Deplete yourself and we are all depleted. Rejuvenate yourself and we will – each of us – feel the benefit of your brilliant and powerful light. Do it for yourself because you are doing it for us.

With great love and admiration (buckle up),

Your Rejuvenation Fairy.

Prepare For Surprise

526. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Serendipity and a project brought me back to Finite and Infinite Games by James Carse. In rereading it I wonder why I do not read passages from this playful and profound book everyday. Here’s a snippet from passage 44:

“…Artistry can be found anywhere; indeed it can be only be found anywhere. One must be surprised by it. It cannot be looked for. We do not watch artists to see what they do, but watch what persons do and discover the artistry in it.

Artists cannot be trained. One does not become an artist by acquiring certain skills or techniques, though one can use any number of skills and techniques in artistic activity. The creative is found in anyone who is prepared for surprise. Such a person cannot go to school to be an artist, but can only go to school as an artist.

Therefore, poets do not “fit” into society, not because a place is denied them but because they do not take their “places” seriously. They openly see its role as theatrical, its styles as poses, its clothing as costumes, its rule as conventional, its crises as arranged, it’s conflicts performed, and its metaphysics ideological.”

Old Meets New

525. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

I believe we are living in a time when THE OLD STORY is colliding mightily with THE NEW REALITY. It is an opportunity for change but like most times of great potential change, we hold on with white knuckles to THE OLD STORY. Change is frightening precisely because it is unknown. It is easier to hold onto the monkey bar than it is to fly toward the next place. Our circumstance is dire because the pace of change is blistering so the immensity of the denial necessary to maintain THE OLD STORY is…profound.

As Marshal McLuhan wrote, we humans are great at stepping into the future with our eyes in the rearview mirror. It’s as if we live life in a rowboat, pulling for a future with our backs to where we are going. The occasional glances over the shoulder help us spot a destination but our eyes are fixed on the shore from which we came. Safety lives on the shore behind us (we think).

As Roger once said, “I believe among a human beings greatest capacities is the capacity for denial.” Denial often looks like this: “Things are okay just as they are,” “I wish we could return to the good old days,” “Let’s get back to basics, return to our values, do what we know works.” Just listen to our education, political, and economic conversations! Denial also likes to think that things are happening to us; waking up is simply the acknowledgment that we are the creators of the story.

[I’m be on the road and taking a break so I’m dipping into the archives and reworking and reposting some of your favorites. I’ll be back at it in the middle of August]

Ask A Simple Question

524. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

I have initiated a new practice in my life. This summer was very difficult, perhaps the most difficult stretch of my life, and I fell into some old patterns and wandered through some deep dark valleys so a new practice was necessary.

Here’s the practice: When I wake up, before my feet hit the floor, I ask myself this question: what do I want to bring to this day?

It seems like a simple question until you consider the possible responses. Do I want to bring anger to this day? Anxiety? Do I want to infuse this day with despair? Shall I bring a big dose of depression? How about investing in blame? That is always a salty sweet snack! Those possibilities do not exist outside of me. They are mine to choose or not.

I’ve been amused by the answer that has been the most dynamic, most interesting and vital to climbing out of the trenches: I want to bring my curiosity, every last bit of it. I want to bring all of my inquisitiveness, 100% of my capacity to not know. That’s it. That is my choice for what I want to bring to my day. You’d be amazed at the difference in the world I see since deciding to bring curiosity instead of my resistance.

I am reminded of two things each morning as I ask myself this question: 1) choices of significance always come down to matters of my being and have very little to do with aspects of my doing, and 2) I may or may not have choice in my circumstance (things happen) but I have infinite choice about who I am within my circumstance.

[I’m be on the road and taking a break so I’m dipping into the archives and reworking and reposting some of your favorites. I’ll be back at it in the middle of August]

Look At Your Labels

523. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

The first time I stepped over a person sleeping on the street I was horrified. I grew up in the burbs; if someone was collapsed on the street it meant they needed help. It was early in the morning, my first day in San Francisco. I was 22 years old. I rushed to the man laying on the cement and my friend Roger grabbed my arm, “Keep walking,’ he said, “There’s nothing you can do.” I stepped over the man and kept walking. It was unnatural. I didn’t believe that there was nothing to be done. And, I kept walking. Roger was quick to point out the people asleep in doorways, on benches, beneath cardboard,…; once my eyes were opened I saw people scattered all over the city, hundreds of people asleep on the street. It was as if an earthquake hit the city and its residents were afraid to go back into their homes. “What happened?” I asked. “Reagan cut funding for the shelters,” Roger said. “The economy sucks.” Even then those answers seemed too simplistic, completely void of responsibility.

This is how we learn the rules of community.

That was 1983. Today I walked by the courthouse in downtown Seattle. The park next to the courthouse was like a refugee camp. Every park bench served to support makeshift cardboard shelters. People slept beneath every tree and formed a line adjacent to the fences. Sleeping during the day is necessary if you have no home to return to at night. For a moment I thought it was a performance art piece, the actors having placed themselves on the ground in an orderly composition. They were so still. I felt no horror and had no impulse to help. Instead, I was more concerned with looking at them for too long; I am not supposed to notice. I am a man of my times and have internalized the rules of community.

Earlier in the day I’d read a passage about Marshal McLuhan: he wrote of the human tendency to dismiss an idea or experience by naming it. He called it “label-libel.” Attach the right label to it and you needn’t think about it any more.

“Homeless,” I said, feeling nothing. “The economy sucks,” I intoned. “Nothing to be done,” I whispered, wishing for the days when I had access to my horror.

[I’m be on the road and taking a break so I’m dipping into the archives and reworking and reposting some of your favorites. I’ll be back at it in the middle of August]

Find Yourself Whole

522. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

He asked me, with eyes downcast, “Yes, but when will I believe that I am whole?” We were sitting on the stage of an outdoor theatre. It was a hot summer night after a not-particularly-good-rehearsal. This young man, an actor, came dangerously close to being fully present, alive and available in his scene; he came very close to actually being seen without his armor. It scared him and he fled. I was secretly proud because he was brave and daring to come so close to his power. Now he was fully invested in pummeling himself. Had I a whip, a hair shirt, and a wee bit of salt to offer him he would have gladly added the torture to his self-abuse.

“You will believe that you are whole when you stop investing in the idea that you are broken.” Not a very useful response, but there it is.

A wise old mentor once told me that you can only give an actor one significant note a day. Give them too many things to incorporate and nothing will move forward. Give them the note to chew on and leave them alone to chew. So these are the things I did not say: When you deem that it is alright to be afraid, when you consider it useful to feel what you feel without a need to alter it to service the opinions of others, when you stop beating yourself for trying, when you stop abusing yourself for making strong offers and reward yourself instead, then you might feel whole. Wholeness is not something you attain. It is something you are. Feel it. Broken is a learned behavior, it is the hallmark of a people that reject nature, particularly their own nature; it is a story guaranteed to keep you hiding and, that is the point of the, “I am broken and need fixing” story. The “I am broken” story is a central and necessary in the maintenance of a culture of control. And, above all, I did not tell him that it is a useful thing to struggle with; finding yourself is the whole point of being alive – or perhaps better said: finding yourself whole is the point of being alive. Wrestling with it makes for a good story and great life.

[I’m be on the road and taking a break so I’m dipping into the archives and reworking and reposting some of your favorites. I’ll be back at it in the middle of August]

Take Your Foot Off The Brakes

521. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

This is an old theme revisited. The word of the day is “belief.” For the past few days I have been with Lora at her class reunion in Tucson and I’ve listened to many conversations about belief: belief in self, belief in fate, belief in fortune, belief in friendship, belief in future, belief in love. We give this word, “belief” a good workout and a lot of power!

Like all words, “belief” is an abstraction. Just as the word “tree” is not a tree – the word is an abstraction of something – the word “belief” is also an abstraction; it points to something that you decide/create with in you.

We play as if we need belief before we act. The notion that belief precedes committed action is a misunderstanding, an inversion. This misunderstanding is used as a reason to keep both feet on the brakes, “I can’t act before I believe….” Just watch a toddler explore the world! Curiosity is the name of the game, no belief required.

Belief in your self has nothing to do with fulfilling your dreams or bringing 100% of your self to your life. Curiosity is all that is required. The good news is that curiosity is natural to all human beings. Explore to explore. Act to see what happens. Color outside of the lines. The only thing necessary is to take your foot off the brakes.

[I’m be on the road and taking a break so I’m dipping into the archives and reworking and reposting some of your favorites. I’ll be back at it in the middle of August]