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

[continued from 811]

Bali Journal Excerpt #2:
During the group’s visit to Jero Manchu [Jero was a Balian or shaman], I took pictures for Lora as she worked with the Balian. As I was aiming the camera, about ready to snap a photo, I heard my inner voice scream, “Ask the Balian what is missing!” Missing? And then again, “You need to know what is missing!” The voice railed at me for the duration of our visit to Jero’s compound. “Just ask!” my inner voice implored. I didn’t ask. I was too embarrassed and more than a little unhinged at the battle raging inside of me. I didn’t want to look stupid or display my vulnerabilities. I knew that, in fact, something was missing. I told myself that I didn’t want to impose my needs upon the group. I left the compound stuffing the question inside.

Reading this journal entry thirteen years later made me smile for 2 reasons: 1) I’ve since learned to listen and act immediately when my inner voice calls. I used to treat my inner voice as if it was an “other.” Now, it is not separate. It is my voice. It no longer needs to scream. 2) I assumed that speaking to my needs was an imposition on others. I had no evidence for that assumption. In truth, it was purely my justification for not showing up. It was my way of hiding.

I’m particularly fond of the timing of this excerpt. A few weeks ago my inner voice roared an imperative and I acted immediately. My world will never be the same because I listened and responded. There was no gap between the call and my action. There is no need for inner warfare. Additionally, today was the official launch party for my comic strip, FL!P (Skip has done an amazing job building this site – check it out). Lots of people came, drank wine, ate food, laughed, drew pictures, voted for their favorite strip and character. I loved every minute of it because I showed up. I recognized that I spent the entire day doing exactly what I wanted with no assumption about the impact on others. It is no longer my job to decide what other people need or think. There is so much in my life to celebrate!

Be In The Hallway

809. 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 morning Arnie made me laugh out loud. We hadn’t talked for some months and I was recounting the amazing pilgrimage I have been on throughout the winter. Doors have been closing, sometimes abruptly while other doors, previously locked, open easily. He reminded of a phrase his mother used to say: the universe doesn’t close doors without opening others – but it is hell waiting in the hallway!

Last August on the shores of a lake in New Hampshire, Donna emerged from the woods looking for me. She had some things that she needed to tell me. She knew that I was standing in the metaphoric hallway and that it was hell. All the doors were closed and I was feeling stuck. She told me to sit still. She reminded me that it does no good to pound on the doors when they are closed to you. It might feel good to rail against the doors but the effort is fruitless. Doors do not feel pain. The only shoulder I was breaking was my own. Donna is wise and told me great stories of the doors she’d pounded in her life and none of them ever opened again. Doors close for reasons that are never apparent at the closing. Doors close so you will look elsewhere. In time, a new door presents itself so, in Donna’s words, “You may as well enjoy the limbo.”

She offered me another notion that helped me sit still in the hallway. She said, “You are like me. In your life you have callings and there is always a space between the calls. You won’t hear the new call until you enter stillness.” So, I sat in the hallway. It was hell. And I was still. From this place, almost nine months after that day on the beach, I am now grateful that the old door closed because the new door is more amazing than anything I could have imagined. It is ripe with potential. I can’t believe I pounded on that old door for so long. I can’t imagine what life would be like now if that old door had not closed.

Sitting in the hallway is another way of saying, “Have faith.” Faith is not an abstraction when you are in the hallway. It is really easy to yammer on about faith when you are comfortable. Step into the hallway, sit in hell, and faith is a concrete experience – if you can get quiet. Enjoy the limbo and know that a door will open eventually. It always does when you stop pounding. As Donna implied, stop fighting for what no longer serves you. Let the door close and BE IN THE HALLWAY. There’s magic behind another door and it will open if you let it.

Ask The Next Question

799. 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 met John in his workshop. He was cutting pieces for a chair. He’s decided that his summer task is to learn to build chairs. I’ve known John for many years and he was a master woodworker when I met him. That he’s set himself the task of making chairs seemed at first already within his reach. I’ve sat in many many chairs that John’s designed and built. And then, like a little kid excited to open presents, he showed me his prototype and all the things he didn’t know how to do. He showed me all the things that he couldn’t wait to explore. There are new joinery, curves, and design elements. He’s incorporating metals into some of his designs. Brushing the sawdust from his shirt, he said, “I figure if I’m not learning then I’m probably wasting my time.”

John chooses his projects based on what he doesn’t know. For years I’ve admired how he orients himself to his tasks. He is a true master. Mastery is not about what you know. Mastery is about how you address yourself to what you don’t know. Mastery and curiosity are bedfellows. Most of us choose our projects based on what we know. We do stuff because we know how to do it – and sometimes we mistakenly call that expertise. We use our knowledge to distinguish ourselves from the pack. Masters have no time for such nonsense. They are too busy learning. They are too in awe of life to separate from life. They are joiners and not concerned with status games.

As we jumped into John’s truck to get some dinner and a beer I noticed that he was limping. I asked him about the limp and he was told me about the magic his naturopath was working. He has arthritis in his back. He said, “I have a lot to learn. There is so much for me to do, so many things I want to do. I figure I’ll never get to it all but I need my health. I’m too excited to stop asking the next question.”

No Story Necessary

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

Today Alan and I led the final Transformational Presence Coaching class of the year. I always feel a deep sense of gratitude for the group and for Alan in particular when we complete a cycle. I’ve become a steward of his work and have slowly over time embodied the principles. I am especially grateful for this group of graduates because over the past seven months they provided the only real consistency in my life. We’ve met every Tuesday (on the phone) to talk about the learning and experiences of the past week. The class was the single pattern, the touchstone that gave shape to my wandering.

In Bali Jakorda Rai told me I needed to learn about energy and auras. And then I met Alan – and I’ve only just today realized that bit of providence. He taught me about energy – to first pay attention to the energy, the feeling in my body, and not the story that I tell. The story comes second. It is the flip of how most of us engage with life. It is the opposite of the American cultural norm. All life is energy in motion.

Something powerful shifts when thought takes second place to energy. Something powerful changes when we recognize that thought is energy. I know that might sound esoteric but consider for a moment how your life might open if you paid less attention to what you think and more attention to the experience of the moment (Quinn once said, “There are 6 billion people on the planet and you are the only one who really cares what you think.”). What is right in front of you? What is your relationship to this moment?

It is a useful practice to pay attention and work with how you feel before you attach to what you think. Attaching to what you think almost always leads to some form of internal debate – and inner debate is a sure sign that you’ve split yourself and have kinked the energy hose. What could be less interesting than spending your time attending an inner debate?

On the other hand, if you pay attention to the energy – which is neither good nor bad – you can change the direction or work with something more expansive and easy. You can ground it, you can slow it down, stir it up or add color; you can even it out. Energy is about motion and flow. You can trace it back to the trigger and more clearly see the story you tell. If an old story is worn out, you can release it and make room for a new story. You can nurture the flow of energy.

Energy first, story second. It is how our brains work: we have experiences (we feel) and then we story the experiences. As the class discussed today, sometimes there is no need for a story.

Face The Sun

777. 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 was gorgeous in Seattle today. It was the kind of day that people escape from work, play hooky, take extra long lunch hours, or leave early so they can get into the sun. I made up a reason to walk across the city to an art store. I needed some more paper and Mod Podge. I’m certain there is a closer art store but I convinced myself that they wouldn’t have the kind of paper I needed or would charge me too much for Mod Podge. I justified walking in the sun for an hour. My strategy was successful. I pretended I was exhausted so I could walk slower. That worked, too.

On the way I saw people napping in the sun. All of the city’s benches were occupied by people dedicated to sitting still. All the faces were tilted to the sun. Like me, people walked slower so they might prolong their time outside. It was as if the entire city went Zen (with the exception of the drivers who were desperate to get somewhere so they could park and get out of their cars).

The great paradox in this day of lollygagging is that I was more productive today than any other day this month. A little sun greased the wheels of my brain and the ideas flowed. I was inking cartoons and talking on the phone and before I knew it I’d inked everything that was drawn and nearly completed my full list of calls. Skip sent an email proclaiming that he, too, was having an extraordinarily productive day. A little sun can work magic to a vitamin D starved populace.

Even though we live in boxes that shelter us from the elements and sleep according to electric light and not the rising and setting of the sun, we are still intimately connected to the pull of nature. This morning as I descended Queen Anne hill, the vibrant force of spring – birds in chorus, buds bursting open, a full palette of colorful flowers – stopped me in my tracks. It lifted me from a rain soaked stupor and I spontaneously stretched my arms and yawned myself awake. A woman passed me on the stairs and said, “It’s electric, isn’t it.”

Listen To Horatio

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

My dear Horatio wrote this to me in response to my recent post, Look Beyond The Word, post 758. I asked if I could share his thoughts with you (he calls me G):

Artistry, like entrepreneurship, defines a way of being not something achieved.

G,

Yes, indeed. Nice post.

But, that need to achieve something is the yin to the yang you describe. The entrepreneur and the artist have to really, really want the finished product, whatever it is. The painting which they love and caress and curse and despair, the movie that comes to life or doesn’t come to life (omigod… how could I have missed that!?), the business that needs adjusting and many many 24 hour days to flourish. While in the process, they have to love and need their product, too.

You’re right, I think. I agree. It’s a way of being, of seeing, of taking action. But it’s got a goal, it requires organization and commitment, because it’s in the world, part of our mortal span, and want to finish it in time. Before we die. We think it makes life worth it, redeemable. Without that, the way of being would be frivolous. I think that’s the risk, that’s the terror, and the juice. The redeem-ability of life by some accomplishment may very well be an illusion, a fallacy. But we do it anyway. We try. That’s the process. To try. “This painting will connect me to the eternal if I just get it right….”

The adage that “we learn by doing” comes to mind and opens a whole other set of ideas about how and why we draw, paint, sculpt, write, shoot movies, and so on, and then do it AGAIN. But we’ll talk about that later.

A way of being is defined, yes, but I think it also must be in the context of casting your bread on the water, taking that risk of accomplishing something, the risk of achievement. If not, it’s play and fun, seems to me. That’s a worthwhile endeavor, certainly, but it’s not the same thing, in my opinion.

H,
Yes, indeed. Thank you.

Know The Value

719. 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 is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.”
Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

I once read a series of books in which the main character, a successful real estate broker, so despised the emptiness of his life that one night he took off his clothes and walked away from his life. He literally left everything behind. He stepped away from every illusion that he maintained. From zero, he rediscovered himself and emerged a man rooted in the essential, living in the present. He relinquished the culture of comfort and embraced the textures and struggles of a life unprotected.

These past few months, as I stepped away from what was known and am now wandering, I have thought often of these books and this character. Just as the character learned that his needs were never fulfilled by possessions and always fulfilled through relationships, I am learning that I can only truly offer my gifts to the world when I fully allow myself to fully receive.

In these months I have stayed with Alan, Judy, Megan, Mark and Teru, and Carol; I have traveled from Boston to Hastings to Champaign to Denver and Seattle. I have enjoyed the retreat of my parents’ empty home (they are snowbirds). I’ve received untold kindness and experienced the generosity of friends and strangers. And, the lesson over and over: I need do nothing to deserve it; I need only receive it. In my life I’ve learned to give but have protected myself from receiving and am apparently out of balance. Carol said, as she threw her apartment keys at me, “It’s time for you to learn to receive!” And then she laughed at the pained look on my face. Judy reiterated the lesson. Mark told me I am always welcome to stay. These generosities are worth more than gold to me.

Todd and Lone are keeping tabs on me. Mark takes me to lunch when he knows I’m in town. Chris popped me on the head and told me to drop my illusions – I know more than I am willing to admit. David called as I drove across the country to touch base and hear my voice. Kerri toasts me with java everyday; this list could go on and on. I am like the character in the book. I’ve always known that the real value of my life was in my relationships, I just had no idea how rich I really am.

Shovel Snow

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

Today I shoveled snow. It’s been over 25 years since I shoveled snow, maybe longer. I loved it. I had to borrow boots. The snow was deep and powder dry so it looked like a lot of heavy shoveling but was relatively light. Stan, the man next door, came out with his snow blower. We waved, introduced ourselves and talked snow talk. There was so much snow that I had to shovel again later in the day.

Besides shoveling I let go all of my work. I didn’t open my computer until well after sundown. There was a long nap. There were pancakes and lots of coffee. I sat on a heater and looked out the window. I played. I learned how to make Runzas’.

I thought about Horatio because a week ago we attended a party and met the executive director of a symphony. Horatio and I talked about how, as children, we both loved Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf. I hadn’t thought about that story in years. I associate Peter and the Wolf with snow because, when I was a kid and we had snow days, I’d sit in the basement for hours listening to an old record of the symphony with narration. I drew pictures of the wolf eating the duck, the bird circling the wolf to distract it as Peter captured the wolf by the tail. Snow and Peter and the Wolf go together in my mind.

There is a quiet that comes with the snow. That’s why I wanted to go out and shovel it. The worlds’ sounds soften; snow is a great muffler. Perhaps it is because the snow slows the pace of life – today it closed schools, businesses and roads city wide – that it inspires in me an inner quiet. There is a Hermetic Principle that applies: As within, so without. As without, so within. It was so quiet outside that I was silent inside. I mused as I shoveled that, one day, wouldn’t it be great if my inner quiet had the capacity to do for the world what snow is able to inspire in me.

Pay Attention

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

Marcia sent me a gift. It is a small notebook that her father, DeMarcus, made when he was a student. The calendar pasted into the front is from 1922. The leather binding is falling off, the pages are fading, and the notes, written in pencil, are smeared. But the thoughts are clear and sometimes startling. DeMarcus became a great artist in the theatre. The notebook dates from the time of his becoming with no notion of how his desire to be an artist would play out in his life.

The notebook came sealed in a baggy, a note from Marcia was tucked inside that read, “Pay attention to his thoughts on color. They are astonishing. Magic” I’ve not yet read his thoughts on color because I was so taken by the first page. This young man, nearly a century ago, diligent in his dream, wrote to himself: “Pay attention! The details matter.”

It was the exact thought I needed to receive today, a day lost in thought and overwhelmed by my swirling story, caught in the fast moving current. Pay attention. It came from the boy DeMarcus who wanted to see. So I stopped the swirl and stepped out of the fast moving stream. I watched the sun set over the city. I listened to the gulls fight over scraps from the market. I ate an orange slowly, making sure I tasted every bite. I smelled rich dark coffee.

On a large pad of art paper across the room, a line from Emerson is written: When the half gods go, the gods arrive. This is what I learned in paying attention: the half gods move really fast and would have us believe the worth of life is in the pace; the gods arrive when we step out of the panic and into our one single precious moment and pay attention.

Play For Meaning

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

Horatio took me on a whirlwind tour today. We met his art teacher, Jo, and I listened as they discussed artists like Sylvia Plath and Diane Arbus, artists whose work explores the darker shades of life. Both women killed themselves. Horatio posits that their artistry in some ways chronicled their march toward an inevitable conclusion. Like a raft caught in the current, hurtling toward a waterfall, they determined that there was nothing to be done, no greater meaning to be found, and went over the falls.

Horatio and I often stray into the topic of meaning making. What’s it all about? What is the greater purpose and meaning of this experience of life? I’ve decided that meaning is something we make and not something we find. Meaning is something we bring to the dance. However, we come to the dance with great expectations. We look for someone to dance with, we look for an experience that might lift us from the ordinary routine, we yearn for someone to notice us, we want food to eat, a future to create; we seek experiences. We want more. Life is made sweet in the yearning.

We get lost when we think someone else has what we need or that someone else can fulfill our yearning. Our job is to engage life; no one can do that for us. Our job is to bring our selves to life (I intend the double meaning of that phrase). Our job is not to fulfill another person’s need just as their job is not to fulfill ours. The meaning is in what we bring to the dance; if we bring joy there will be joy. If we bring blame there will be blame.

Tonight Horatio and Teru made a lovely dinner and had a cake for my birthday (coming soon!). Their daughter Nina and her beau Keith came along with Nina’s 4 year-old daughter, Jordan. I spent much of the evening learning from Jordan how to play Chutes and Ladders and a cupcake game. The first rule is that there are no rules. The second rule is that because there are no rules things like winning and losing are ridiculous. The only thing that mattered was that we played. She showed up and I showed up and the rest was imagination and wonder. You’ll be surprised to know that in a single evening I played the role of Santa Claus AND was placed forever on the naughty list (my name is written on the list in magenta crayon). It is an existential dilemma of massive proportion that required the creation of a third rule: naughty and nice are relative terms and who needs lists anyway? Meaning is never found in the list and always found in the play. So, as Jordan taught me tonight: play and the meaning will soon follow.