November | 2012 | The Direction of Intention

Diverge

Posted on November 10, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

Earlier today I laughed when an artist friend said to me, “I felt like an alien when I was a kid. And then I grew up and my friends started taking drugs; they finally saw the world the way I saw it! It was great!” Being an artist can feel like living in a perpetual altered state.

Artists often have to walk far down the road of their lives before realizing that their greatest gift is their divergent point of view; it is not what they do, it is how they see. It is a great day in their lives when they realize that they need not bend their view to match “the norm,” they simply need to give themselves permission to see what they see. They need only grant themselves permission to want what they want and express what they perceive; they go so far as to let go of the notion of a norm. Until then they think they are aliens, deficient or are somehow broken; they travel through life thinking, “Either this place is insane or I am?” No matter how you toss that coin, you will not come up a winner.

The first phase of my graduate program was called divergence. We were encouraged to deviate from our path: to pursue something that either scared us or challenged our fundamental assumptions. It was a brilliant educational design and unusual for a university program. Throughout the process I pondered why intentional divergence wasn’t the organizing principle behind all levels of education. A student must diverge to converge; a student must not-know en route to knowing. Divergence requires stepping into unknown territory. Wandering beyond the boundaries is the only way to understand the usefulness or uselessness of the boundaries. Step into the bog, get lost, run from noises that may be nothing or just might be a tiger. How will you ever know if you will fly or fall until you leave the nest? Of this you can be certain, diverge and you will return to the nest knowing more than when you left or, more likely, you will know more than when you left AND have no need to return. No matter how you toss that coin, you will come up a winner.

Filed under: Art, Awakening, Creativity, Education, Emergence, Truly Powerful People | Tagged: divergence | 2 Comments »

Make It Up!

Posted on November 9, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

610. 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 election night and the wind is roaring off the Sound. We are saving daylight now so the sun sets early. It was only this weekend that we turned back the clocks so I am disoriented each evening; “What time is it!” I exclaim looking at the clock, realizing that although it feels like midnight it is actually only 7:00. When I was a kid I’d ride the merry-go-round, spinning and spinning until my inner compass was so bamboozled that I walked like a drunken sailor. Daylight saving time is like a merry-go-round.

Although at this fine age I have no intention of spinning myself into perplexity, I’ve once again decided that being disoriented is not so bad (when I am deep in thought I am perfectly capable of walking into poles or going in the opposite direction of my intention). In fact, so fond am I of being disoriented that I’m considering spinning disorientation into a philosophy so future generations might reasonably aim at utter confusion.

This is the proof for my new philosophy: we spend so much time trying to be found, how could we be anything but lost. A variation on the theme: we spend so much time trying to be right, that we must certainly be continually proving that we are wrong. Another variation: we put so much energy justifying our position that we must be secretly convinced that we have no position. So rather than whip up the illusion of knowing, wouldn’t it make more sense to fully embrace not-knowing? Good heavens, I’m on the verge of writing a syllogism! My inner philosopher is tugging at his beard with cigar stained fingers, muttering, “hmmmmmm. A book, perhaps?” Ominous deep staring eyes will dominate the book jacket design, the teaser will read: there is no map for your soul! The first chapter will be a single sentence: It is all made up.

When puffer-academics ask me for proof of disorientation I will point to American election cycles. So inundated are we with months of campaign advertising, pundits tugging on our perceptual rope, “facts” spun into tasty delirium cotton candy, “truth” slandered and slander twisted into licorice tasting “truth;” we must certainly be on the merry-go-round all of the time. Chapter one: it is all made up. Chapter two: in order to be oriented you have to have something solid to orient to. Chapter three: If it is all made up, then nothing is solid. If nothing is solid, then orientation is impossible. If orientation is impossible, then you better make something up. A near syllogism! My inner philosopher hoots with satisfaction!

No wonder I’m dizzy.

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Live Like Riley

Posted on November 8, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

Riley the black Labrador is 15 years old and fetches logs from the Puget Sound. Riley’s human has a tough time lifting and launching the logs for Riley to fetch. He doesn’t throw them, they are too big to throw; he launches them. Riley waits until his log is really far from shore and then he does what retrievers do. It is a beautiful thing to watch because Riley’s mouth is not big enough to bite the log. He has to find something at the end to chomp and then, rather than swimming the log to shore in his mouth, he tugs it inch by inch until he drags it back onto the beach, wagging his tail the whole way. His task seems impossible but he finds a way. The enormity of his task is a source of his pleasure. Riley will no longer fetch little sticks; they pose no challenge.

We are like Riley only rather than retrieving logs we tell stories. We wrap stories around our challenges. Riley would never think, “That stick is too big!” If he had language (and who really knows, he might), he’d think, “Let’s see!” or “What’s next!” Riley is not invested in what the other Labrador’s think or how he measures up with the other pooches. He does not spend time wondering if he is a good enough retriever. “Launch the log!” he thinks wagging his tail in anticipation of his task. Our challenges are rarely too big – the actions necessary are rarely difficult; only our stories make it so. Do you wish to write a book? What is the story that prevents you from writing? Do you yearn for more space? What is the story that leads you to pack your days so full? Do you love your humans? What is the story that prevents you from letting them know?

There is no greater point to Riley’s task; the purpose is in the relationship with his human. We derive our purpose from much the same thing. And, not unlike Riley, we find great pleasure when the sticks we fetch are just beyond what we believe possible to achieve. If the stick is too small, like Riley, we get bored. Unlike Riley, however, we will tell a story justifying why the small stick is just the right size of challenge, safe, and good to fetch because we already know how to do it. I admire Riley. When he sees the too small stick he sits on the beach, looks at his human, wags his tail with pleasure as if to say, “Oh, we can do better than that!”

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Put The Buggy In The Barn

Posted on November 7, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

608. 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’m reading a book about brain science and how it applies or might impact education. I’m finding the science and discoveries about the brain amazing and yet the application and translation to education is frustrating and sometimes mindboggling.

Marshal McLuhan wrote that we make sense of new technology through the eyes of the past. So, for instance when automobiles first came on the scene we referred to them as horseless carriages. I make sense of my smart phone as if it were simply a telephone and it is so much more than that; I do not know what to call this thing that I carry in my pocket, this thing that has more computing power than the Apollo space crafts. I am squeezing a new miracle into an old idea; I do not understand the power and capacity I already possess.

That is precisely what the authors of my book are doing (and that we are perpetuating in our national non-conversation about education) when applying their ideas to teaching and learning; they are squeezing miraculous insights into an antiquated system. They are addressing the relationship of teacher to student, content-deliverer to receiver, assuming a factory model system in which students are passive and clumped according to age groups in a room filled with rows of desks. They are not challenging the faulty assumptions that their science is revealing. They are attempting to help teachers navigate a standardized test driven system when all of their findings indicate that a standardized test driven system impedes learning.

What prevents us from challenging our assumptions, from actually creating something designed for the times in which we live? That is a rhetorical question. Our challenge is not to improve teaching or to raise standards. Our challenge is to put the buggy in the barn and buy a car. No amount of discussion, testing, debate, or application of new science will make the horse drawn carriage work better in the 21st century. The intention behind the book is to positively impact with the latest science processes of learning, yet it defines learning from a century old idea.

Jill put the question to Seth Godin and he responded with something like this: education will change when the entire community engages in a conversation about the purpose of education (not a direct quote). What is this thing we call education? What is its purpose? If it is, as I hear in our national dialogue and political rhetoric, to make better workers, then we are already lost. Actually, “to make a better workforce” is a perfect statement of a lowest common denominator system expressing its lowest common denominator intention. Design to the minimum, aim for the minimum, and we will hit the minimum every time, no brain science necessary.

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Exit The Mind Field

Posted on November 6, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

There is a self-judgment that I often hear from clients, “I should be in the world in a more dynamic/expressive/productive way. I am not fulfilling my potential.” Probe a bit deeper and inevitably I find that there is also a world-view supporting the self-judgment: “I live in a minefield.” I love this term, minefield, or, as another client used to say, more to the point, “mind field.”

How can you possibly expect to fulfill your potential if you believe you live in a field of mines? If you exist in a minefield, you step lightly if you step at all. The expectation to fulfill potential does not match the world-view. In a minefield, survival is the best you can do.

The expectation of fulfilled potential comes from the desire to be in the world in a different way. The question is rarely about potential and is usually about safety. A child that does not feel safe will not play. An adult that does not feel safe will not bring their best offer; they cease to express. To be more dynamic/expressive/productive you must first decide to exit the minefield. It is not fulfilled potential but freedom of movement that we seek; “fulfilled potential” is an abstraction; freedom to move and breathe and speak is tangible.

Identify the mines. Do you compare yourself with others? Who? Why is this other person the standard bearer for your life? Have you set an absurdly high expectation or invested in the notion of “perfect?” Who set the bar that is impossible to clear? Whose permission do you seek? What story do you wrap around your choices? There are legitimate minefields in this world and then there are mind fields. Learning to distinguish between the two is a great first step. If you are truly in a minefield retrace your steps and get out. If you are in a mind field, retrace your steps and get out. Reclaim your safety.

The rivers of creativity cannot flow through you if you are afraid to move. Potential is not a vessel to fill it is a quality of movement in your life.

Filed under: Awakening, Metaphor, Truly Powerful People | Tagged: safety | Leave a comment »

See Again

Posted on November 5, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

606. 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 got new glasses today. I had great vision until I was 45 and then, just as a prophetic optometrist predicted when I was 21, the world went fuzzy. I denied the existence of my first pair of glasses until one day during a workshop I thought a team wrote on their flip chart, “All new hires should have babies.” I walked closer to the flip chart (rather than put on my glasses…) and discovered that they’d actually written that new hires should have buddies, not babies. I was both relieved and distressed; what else was I misreading?

It amuses me when I bust myself in full-blown story attachment. In my brown-eyed family, I am the only member with green eyes. I was the only member gifted with perfect vision; not only do I have green eyes but I do not need glasses…that was the story. I do not need glasses. I am an artist with perfect vision and that is a gift. With glasses, I thought the gift was revoked. I must not have used it well. I was, with glasses, somehow less special. I knew that the story of my glasses was ridiculous and existed nowhere outside of me, but I told it anyway.

And then I learned through my new fuzzy sight that my gift was not my vision; it was my vision.

The first time Joe saw me wear my glasses he said, “Oh, thank god! Now you at least look smart!” Over time I grew accustomed to wearing them when I needed to read flip charts or drive. Pulling them from their perch on the collar of my shirt I’d put them on and think, “Time to look smart.” It became a game, like Clark Kent running into his phone booth and coming out as superman; I’d turn around and put on my glasses, spin around and be a few points smarter than before. “I need some more smarts,” I’d think, spinning around, and re-emerging wearing my smart eyes. And then, I realized that glasses work like a mask or a clown’s nose: they are transformational and allow an infinite number of new characters to come through: my glasses worked just like a clown car!

So, picking out my second pair of glasses today was an event. Since I now recognize that my gift is not my vision but my vision, and I have a unique opportunity for new characters to emerge through each successive pair of glasses, I went to the most special place, Eyes On Fremont, to pick my new look, my new superhero persona, my next clown car of personalities.

Watch out world! I can see again. And, with my new look came a new superpower though I must not tell what my new superpower is (hint: I am less smart in my new mask but speeding bullets have nothing on me now!); superpowers must remain incognito until needed.

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Seek

Posted on November 4, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

Master David Miller just sent his update-my-life newsletter and at the bottom he included this quote:

“Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those that find it.” Andre Gide

I cheered and clapped my flippers! As someone who has done an insane amount of seeking in his life I was gratified to know that other seekers have also found nothing. And, more to the point, “not-finding” is in fact, the point of seeking.

The great thing about science is that there is always another question. Math is a language we’ve invented or discovered (a chicken and egg debate above my pay grade) that is used to describe our universe; no answers there! Math is also nice for balancing your checkbook or keeping track of how many widgets were sold; it’s a great a way of notating music. Math is the language of pursuit. Chase math down the path and it will lead you to strings and quantums and bubbles…more and more questions. History is never about answers though we pretend that there is a definitive narrative as if we only have one brain and a single set of eyes. At the heart of every seeker is an artist asking, “I wonder what would happen if…?” Mystery upon mystery, question upon question: why then have we constructed an education system dedicated to reducing everything to an answer?

Given my steadfast belief that education is about seeking and not about finding – or put another way – education is about asking questions and not about having answers, I propose a simple step that could revolutionize education in America (note – I wrote “step” and not “solution” as to seek a solution is to reinforce the notion of finding a truth): remove the emphasis on the answer and reinforce the quest. That’s it. A local simplicity to leverage change in a complex system.

This is how I’d do it: first grade would start at night around a campfire with the entire community present, the children closest to the fire. Some old grizzled elder would tell the story of a quest, an ancestor that faced monumental odds and severe hardship and returned to the community with a scroll of questions stolen from a cave guarded by monsters. And since that day every member of the community has been in pursuit of the truth within the questions. All the adults would nod – an impossible task and the community now needs fresh eyes for the questions. And then the elder would give each child a copy of the scroll and ask them for their help. The next day, a teacher would ask, “Where should we start?” The next evening, a parent would ask, “What did you discover?”

Since we are so dedicated to our need to test I wave the white flag of compromise and suggests that the scroll given to the children is the one-and-only standardized test the children will ever receive. It is given on the first night of their new life in school, not with an expectation of answers but as a launch pad for the greater test of their capacity to pursue. Of course, the questions would be designed so that there was no single answer possible, each question would lead to more complex questions; and isn’t that a great definition of “truth?” It’s a treasure hunt. It’s life training. And they, like us, would need each and every member of the community to fulfill their unfulfillable quest.

Filed under: Education, Truly Powerful People | 3 Comments »

Dance In The Paradox

Posted on November 3, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

One of my favorite paradoxes lives in these two seemingly conflicting statements: 1) you can only know yourself through the eyes of another, and 2) what others perceive is none of your business; your business is to attend to what you perceive. I believe both to be true.

An infant that lacks touch and attention will die. An adult that lacks touch and attention might live but they will certainly twist, warp, and wither. They will wonder why they live; survival alone on a deserted island is untenable unless there is hope of one day seeing, touching, and knowing another human being. It is the desire to connect, the fundamental need to connect with another that gives us life and purpose. If you are seeking for greater meaning take pause and look at those miracle people that surround you. Everything else is an abstraction. On your deathbed you will review your relationships, not your portfolio.

We are, at the end of the day, a relationship, fluid and dynamic. We are the story we tell of what just happened. We are a story we tell of what we desire to happen. And the “happening” always involves relationship to someone. Think about it: who have you deemed it necessary to know that you are successful? Whose values do you carry forward?

Occasionally we are present with what is, not looking forward or backward but just here. And here, in this place beyond story, it is clear to see that there is only dynamic, flowing relationship.

Our folly is in believing that we are one thing, a fixed singular identity. A separate fixed singular identity. We are none of those things: separate, singular, or fixed. Choose one day this week and pay attention to how many roles you play. Beyond father, mother, daughter son, uncle, niece, nephew, friend, boss, commuter, there are roles you play as you dress, walk down the street; whose eye do you want to catch? What is the story you tell to strangers at dinner parties? Who are you in public? How does that change in private? What about in good days? How does it change when you are feeling down? Who do you want to be? Who are you afraid that you are? Answer six phone calls and pay attention to how you change based on who’s on the other end of the call. Our actions are driven relative to the others that we include in our story.

You are a dynamic relationship and the most mysterious relationship you will ever have is with yourself. And therein lives the paradox. No one can truly know you; no one will ever stand and see through your eyes or know fully what you really think – so their opinions about you have nothing to do with you. What they think is filtered through their lives and expectations. They can’t even really see you through their filters and role assignments. Only your opinions have to do with you because only your opinions originate in you. So, how do you choose to story yourself?

If it is true that you can only know yourself through the eyes of another it is also true that you can only know yourself through what you perceive. To know yourself you must at some point step into the mystery of yourself and on that journey there is no guide to hire. No one can tell you what to find, where to look, or what to believe. Virgil cannot escort you into that cavern. You must step into the vastness of yourself by yourself, and define the kind of relationship you want to have with you. You must see yourself from your own point of view. And recognize that even that is a story.

As I recently read, “truth is not fact.” You are not a fact. You are a truth and truths can only be found dancing in the paradoxes.

Filed under: Identity, Story, Truly Powerful People | 2 Comments »

Look Before You Throw

Posted on November 2, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

603. 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 a few moments ago, I stood up from my desk, slid open the glass door, stepped out on the balcony with my laptop, and prepared to hurl my computer into space. Luckily, I have an odd sense of humor so, before I actually pitched the offender to its death, I did what they do on television and threatened it first. “Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” I whispered coldly. At first my computer was silent so I cocked my arm as if I was about to throw it like a Frisbee and the poor device screamed and begged for mercy. It relented and helped me with my task (as it was supposed to do in the first place). So I brought it back inside to the desk… but I did not close the door. I wanted it to know that the flying-off-the-balcony option was still on the table.

I was gratified that it relented but somehow felt dissatisfied. I wanted to hear the smash. I wanted to feel the triumph of actually pitching the offending computer off of the balcony. And that’s when the idea hit me: stunt doubles! My computer should have a stand-in for those dangerous moments when it confounds me and provokes my wrath! I would have pitched the stunt double off the balcony without a second thought. I would have danced a happy jig the moment it smashed to the ground! And the threat would still be there for my real computer. While dancing I’d look at my real computer and say, “Did you hear that? That will be you if you keep messing with me….” Who knew that technology would bring out my inner Al Capone.

Recently, I was in the Verizon store. On the counter was a box of smashed iPhones. The purpose of the box on the counter was to encourage new buyers to get the insurance offered by the store. I was waiting so I asked for the stories of the smashed phones. The young man behind the counter grinned and took great relish telling me the gory accounts of iPhone demise. Some were clearly accidental. Others were very suspicious. For instance, what would need to happen for you to “back your car over your phone?” What sequence of events would lead you to “drop your phone off an overpass?” Or, my personal favorite, “…a friend, (a Sumo wrestler, apparently), stepped on it.” MM-hmm. Technology brings out the inner Al Capone in us all. Had the iPhone owners suitable stunt doubles, their phones may have lived to see another day.

Megan-the-Brilliant is tough on technology. I’ve only known her for a few years and have already seen her drown her phone (twice), drop her phone on hard tile (suspicious, don’t you think?), smash the glass in a manner yet to be explained (she rolled her eyes and said, “It just happened.”) I’ve even seen her work a backroom deal for smashed glass replacement because she didn’t want to explain yet another time why her phone was broken (during the deal I pretended that I was the look-out. It was thrilling). Imagine the relief she would feel with a box of stunt doubles. She could experience the joy of drowning her phone and not have to fear the dubious looks from suspicious Verizon employees.

Just as in the movies, a stunt double does not cost nearly as much as a star. I could affordably pitch my laptop off a balcony several times a day and still be under budget. Of course, my inner lawyer would impose a warning label on my inner Al Capone: I imagine the warning label on the stunt-double jump suit would read: Always look before you throw, use caution when smashing your technology. No wonder I’m conflicted!

Filed under: Random, Truly Powerful People | Tagged: technology | 1 Comment »

See The Dalai Lama

Posted on November 1, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

Standing in Trader Joe’s waiting to check out with my groceries, I watched the courageous moms wrangle their rambunctious kids while shopping, corralling chaos while trying to pay. Moms in Trader Joe’s have endless patience. They know how to make a grocery store fun. I was third in line so I had some time to watch and that’s when the thought occurred to me: what if we treated all kids, every single child, like they were the return of the Dalai Lama.

I mean no disrespect as I recognize that the Dalai Lamas are believed to be the manifestation of The Bodhisattva of Compassion. When the previous Dalia Lama passes, there commences a search for the reincarnated spirit: a child is identified, recognized and raised as the special spirit reborn to continue their service to humanity.

I do not know where these thoughts come from: what are the odds of thoughts of courageous moms in Trader Joe’s and the Dalai Lama colliding in my mind? Astronomical. But they did.

Isn’t the little being running around in too cute shoes, pulling peanuts off of shelves, a special spirit come to serve humanity? I want to see that notion, that intention, as the design principle driving what we do in the schools. I do not want to see a factory milling children for a lifetime of work in factories. I am sick to death of the conversation about standards; could we have a lower common denominator?

The teachers that I know and love want the same thing that I want; they recognize that each little spirit entering their classroom world is special, unique beyond measure. And yet their hands are bound, they are threatened and paid by the board foot of standard produced. Recently my dear friend Robert watched his son work through an endless sequence of worksheets. Robert said, “I can’t help but wonder if this is good for him, if this learning by rote is the best we can do?” His question was rhetorical. He, like the rest of the nation, already knows the answer. Treat them like lumber and they will act like lumber. I work with many organizations and a common complaint is, “Why are our new hires so incapable of thinking for themselves?” There is no mystery here, only a monumental case of denial.

Who might they become if we held them as exceptional, attended to their spiritual growth (note: I’m not talking about religion), and taught them that their lives mattered to the health and well being of a world that needed their strongest offer. What if they knew, as the Dalai Lama knows, that they carry a flame that reaches back generations and how they conduct their lives will send ripples through many generations to come?

It seems so simple and begins with recognition.

Filed under: Education, Seeing, Truly Powerful People | Leave a comment »

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