See The Majesty

Pidgeon Pier (Alan and David on the Sound) by David Robinson

Pidgeon Pier (Alan and David on the Sound) by David Robinson

This is a portion of the text I wrote Alan’s newsletter. He’s always been my champion and is helping spread the word for my book (hard copies available later this week! Stay tuned). I reread the rough text this morning and thought this chunk would also make a good post. 

Many years ago, during the first minute of my first class on the very first day of art school, a musty old professor stepped to the center of the studio and taught the class to see. The lesson took less than 5 minutes. As he stepped away from the center of the room he quietly said, “Learning to see is the only thing of value I will ever be able to teach you. The rest is nothing more than technique.”

He was right. Artistry is about how you see. Innovation is about how you see. Leadership is about how you see.  Transformation begins with how you see. Everything else is execution.

His lesson that day was simple. It was powerful. It was transformational. And, like all things simple and transformational, I didn’t recognize it at the time. I discounted it because it was so basic. He planted a seed that day that took me many years to understand. It took me a few more years to embody. It was with great delight that many years later I recognized his lesson as a threshold to my soul mission. I am on this planet to help people see.

The core of his lesson was this: most people merely look; they do not see. Their thinking gets in the way. In other words, we see what we think – which means we do not see at all. We miss the majesty of what is right in front of us. More importantly, it means we do not see the majesty of what is within us. I am on this planet to help people see the majesty within themselves. The Seer is a guide to seeing the majesty within so we might fulfill our extraordinary capacity.

Go here to get my latest book, The Seer: The Mind of the Entrepreneur, Artist, Visionary, title_pageSeeker, Learner, Leader, Creator…You.

Make Sense

title_pageThe Seer is built upon 9 Recognitions. Much of the book is an email conversation between the protagonist and his mysterious guide, named Virgil. Virgil coaches the protagonist through his discovery and encounters with the 9 Recognitions. Here is a small excerpt from an email exchange between the protagonist and Virgil:

Me: I realized that I think in patterns. I think the same stuff over and over. This is a puzzle: the act of looking for patterns opened my eyes. So, patterns reveal. And yet, later, when I became aware of the patterns of my thinking, I recognized that those patterns were like ruts or grooves. It’s as if I am playing the same song over and over again so no other music can come in. My thinking pattern, my rut, prevents me from seeing. So patterns also obscure. Make sense?

Virgil: Yes. It must seem like a paradox to you. Think of the song or rut as a story that you tell yourself. Your thoughts, literally, are a story that you tell yourself about yourself and the world; the more you tell this story the deeper the rut you create. So, a good question to ask is: what is the story that you want to tell? Are you creating the pattern that you desire to create? We will return to this many times. This is important: the story is not happening to you; you are telling it. The story can only control you if you are not aware that you are telling it.

Me: Can you say more?

 Virgil: We literally ‘story’ ourselves. We are hard-wired for story. What we think is a narrative; this pattern (song) that rolls through your mind everyday is a story that you tell. You tell it. It defines what you see and what you do not see. What you think is literally what you see.

There was a pause. That was a lot for me to take in. When I didn’t respond, he continued:

Virgil: So, what you think is nothing more than a story; it’s an interpretation. You move through your day seeing what you think – instead of what is there. You are not seeing the world you are seeing your interpretation of the world. You are seeing from your rut and your rut is a pattern. So, your patterns of thinking, your rut, can obscure what you see. Make sense?

Go here to get my latest book, The Seer: The Mind of the Entrepreneur, Artist, Visionary, Seeker, Learner, Leader, Creator…You.

Wake Up

ELDERS

The Elders by David Robinson

Many years ago I took a class called Art and Transformation. Over several months we studied the art of different culturals, specifically cultures that understand art as central to their health and wellbeing. It is not correct to say we studied: we made art. We drummed our way into trance and drew what came to us in the trance. We participated in a sweatlodge to find the symbols necessary to make medicine shields. We meditated and made sandpaintings. We sat still in nature, drew with our nondominant hand, gathered dream symbols, made mandalas and explored what it means to be connected through art to “something bigger.”

In the weeks following a class session, we painted work inspired by the class experience and then gathered to share our new work. It was amazing to see the change in my own work when I was rooted in the deeper rivers of life. When I was working from the actual experience of connectivity – and not a mental abstraction or a concept – my paintings startled me.

We worked for months – consciously –  with transformation as the central impulse driving our visual forms. I learned through the class that “transformation” and “connection” were the same thing. Growing in consciousness is almost always a recognition of unity. As Joe said, “The universe tends toward wholeness.” Becoming more aware, opening the doors to greater consciousness, is how that tendency toward wholeness shows up. We see.

I also realized during the course that “story” was central to transformation. Art in its purest form is meant to be the keeper and transformer of the identity of a community. Identity is a story based on certain agreements a community makes about nature and time and god. Story needs context to make sense. I know this sounds like a loop and it is. Transformation is usually a movement toward wholeness (unity) and the movement is made visible through a change of story. I used to say, “Change your story, change your world,” but stopped because the phrase generally invoked wrinkled brows, protests and confusion. Most folks see their story as “reality” and will do anything to defend their reality. Initally a change of story can feel like an assault on reality.

I was once called on the carpet by a superintendent because a play I did with students challenged the reality of the teachers and parents. The superintendent shouted, “Art is supposed to entertain.” Well, yes. Art can entertain. Art is supposed to challenge, to shake the tree of assumptions, to help the community see itself. Art is supposed to help a community ask, “Is this who we are? Is this who we want to be? Is this what we believe?” I sighed and asked  the red-faced superintendent, “Why are you so upset?” Her response: “The play made me uncomfortable.” Yes. Powerful art will always make us uncomfortable. Growth is always in the direction of discomfort. When the universe within us tends toward wholeness we will inevitably walk into vast fields of discomfort. It is how we wake up and see.

Go here to get my latest book, The Seer: The Mind of the Entrepreneur, Artist, title_pageVisionary, Seeker, Learner, Leader, Creator…You.

Exit The Grey

Pieta with Paparazzi_David RobinsonThe universe delivered a hammer-on-the-head-message to me this past year. It showed up in the books I read, the films I saw, and the conversations I had. It hammered me for months before I decided to pay attention. The message is simple: get out of the debate.

The debate ignites inside whenever there is a grey zone: the places where we ignore a decision or abdicate a responsibility. It’s the conversation inside when we’ve not made a choice and/or are waiting for circumstance to decide for us. The debate happens where we have yet to draw a boundary when we need to draw a boundary. It splits the inner monologue into two voices. “Stop. Go. No, stop. Go. Ahhhhhhh!!!”

Getting out of the debate means to be clear. It means to choose to be clear. Make a choice. Walk the path with eyes wide open. If you don’t like the current path of choice you can turn around or cut across the field. You can always choose to stomp through the tall grasses and make your own path or fake a crop circle. And, there is always available the choice to stand still and do nothing. Standing still never requires justification so no debate is necessary. Choose to stand still and see the stars. Feel your heart beating. Smell the hint of fireplace smoke in the air. Listen to your beating heart for a clue about your next choice. The choice to stand still will always lead to a yearning. It will inevitably lead to a step.

I’ve learned that clarity does not mean “being right.” In fact, “being right” is usually a sign of the absence of clarity. The need to “be right” is a blossom of fear. Inner clarity means to walk with your head up, eyes and heart open. It means to embrace the moment and the mess. It means to be available to learning.

You never lose time when you are clear; you gain perspective. You gain experiences. You embrace your moment. You no longer believe in illusions like “mistakes” or “failure.” You walk strong. You practice grace. You see.

Go here to get my latest book, The Seer: The Mind of the Entrepreneur, Artist, Visionary, Seeker, Learner, Leader, Creator…You.title_page

Bark With Enthusiasm

CircusDogThis is my first snowy winter in many decades. I grew up in Colorado so coming back to the snow is like coming home. My recent move to the shores of Lake Michigan has heightened my awareness of the rhythms of the seasons. I’m like a traveler in a foreign county; everything is new for me. The locals move through the snow and cold as if it is commonplace – and for them it is. For me, it is extraordinary, shocking, beautiful, mysterious, and magical. I love it. I forgot how the snow invokes deep quiet. I forgot the sharp sting of the air on my face, the chilly slap into the present moment. I’m present a lot on the shores of Lake Michigan!

Tripper, our dog (a name derived from “road trip,” also know as Tennessee Tripper, also known as Tripper-dog-dog-dog, Sled Dog, or my current favorite: Circus Dog) has never experienced winter. He’s only been on the planet for six months so snow is an adventure to be licked. Ice is a curiosity to him that involves barking – as if ice was a creature with ill intention. I love taking him out at night. Together we stand still in the crystal air and listen to the trees groaning and popping in the cold. He’s particularly taken by the whoosh of wind through the treetops. To Tripper, the wind is a being that whispers in the night and he is as yet undecided if the whisperer is friend or foe. I stand with him in his indecision. I, too, am undecided whether this whisperer is friend or foe.

Sometimes I think that Tripper and I are in the same stage of development. I have never been here before. I do not know the cycles or customs. I am in awe most of the time and the remaining moments are ripe with utter confusion. Either way, awe or confusion, I am grateful for seeing through new eyes, for seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary, for appreciating the cold slap of the air, the sharp sting in my lungs, and for a furry companion that reminds me that all of life is a reason to jump and bark with unbounded enthusiasm.

Go here to get my latest book, The Seer: The Mind of the Entrepreneur, Artist, title_pageVisionary, Seeker, Learner, Leader, Creator…You.

Ask Sam To Recite

The PoetI did this painting about my friend Sam. He is a brilliant poet who for years hid his poetry because he told himself the story that his poems weren’t good enough. He’s committed to memory the works of many other poets. At the drop of a hat, Sam can recite the perfect poem to fit any situation. Poetry is in his Irish blood.

He is remarkable in his love of language. In spirit he is a bard though he so feared his gift that for years he vehemently denied that he wrote poems. After cajoling him for months, he admitted to being a secret poet and in a parking lot behind an abandoned building he finally slipped me a sheaf of original poems. The experience was more drug deal than art share and I adored it. It took enormous courage for Sam to share his poems with me. I knew the moment he slipped the envelop of poems to me that I was holding in my hands the tender soul of an artist. It was big magic; like all artists, this man could change the world if he embraced his gift.

I never underestimate the courage and vulnerability necessary for an artist to open him or her self to the possibility of being seen. I am always honored when someone whispers to me, “I have something I want to share with you.” The artist-soul is a wild animal and does not easily come out of hiding.

I am convinced that all humans are artists because all humans have the capacity for presence. Artistry is not something mystic or out of the ordinary. Artistry is a way of being in the world. An artist sees beyond the abstraction of their thinking. An artist sees beyond the separation into the deep, fecund, shared space. Artistry is always about connectivity to that “something bigger” than the self. And then artists share what they see. There are as many ways to share the soul-space as there are people on the planet.

Sam’s poems are brilliant. He’s changed his story. The world outside changed when he changed his story and began sharing his poems. Eventually, when he was ready to let his wild animal run free, he published several poems under the title Fully Human. Find him. Ask him to recite a poem. And then ask him to recite one of his poems. You won’t be disappointed.

Go here to get my latest book, The Seer: The Mind of the Entrepreneur, Artist, title_pageVisionary, Seeker, Learner, Leader, Creator…You.

Intend The Glitch

Watching a video on “Glitch Art” the other day I heard this phrase: you have to understand a system before you can break it. A glitch in computer code is an anomaly or mistake that creates a hiccup or break in the system. It is a mistake that can make some very interesting imagery. Glitch artists seek the mistakes. They seek the beauty that comes from what others might view as a problem. And my favorite artistic moment as expressed by the glitch artists: at some point they start creating problems in the code. They intend the glitch (which makes it no longer a glitch).

Penicillin is the result of a process glitch. Science is often the art of surfing for glitches, finding the anomaly within the pattern. The word “experiment” implies an orchard of happy mistakes that reveal new insights. The word “unique” means distinctive, exceptional, singular – something out of the ordinary. In other words, a glitch.

Art and Innovation (in the USA) are equated with the new. Artists and innovators try to help us see the world in a new way – or even better, they help us see the world anew. Seeing anew always requires pattern disruption. It requires a challenge to the assumption set, a smack to the status quo. It requires a glitch.

Consider this: learning – true learning (not the answer driven drivel currently running rampant in our education system) and seeing anew are fundamentally the same thing. To learn is to see the new or to see anew. At the heart of art and science – the reason for math and English, economics, politics, ethics, social science,…, is an orientation to the question (as opposed to the numbing notion of a right answer).

Like the glitch artists, no one simply finds the new. It is not something that can be sought or predetermined. It is something we bumble into. It happens when you one day ask, “Hey, I wonder why that happened?” Or, “I wonder if it would work better if…?” It begins with wonder. Wonder leads to experimentation and questions within questions within questions that lead to more experimentation and more questions. This is also a good definition for being vitally alive. Wonder and step toward it. Orient to the question, do an experiment, and tomorrow ask a better question. Do this everyday and someday, just like the glitch artists, you will find yourself doing what all artists know as life-giving: you will intend the glitch, play with the mistake, and learn to see the world anew again and again and again.

For a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

How Do You Know?

What’s the difference between pursuing a dream and chasing an illusion? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself lately. This past year too many people have told me that I’m chasing illusions and my question is always the same: how do you know the difference between a dream and an illusion?

The problem with dreams is that most people let go of them. When I was in high school an English teacher screamed at me. My dreams frustrated her. She insisted that my dreams where too big and too varied and I’d have to “pick one and learn to compromise.” Even then I knew that she was shouting at herself. Dreams do not die easily.

You can spot a dream strangler a mile away. They will tell you that your dream is not practical. In fact, that is true. No dream is practical and that is precisely the point. Dreams lead into the Netherlands of the unknown. Going into the unknown has never been practical. It is practical to stay at home and watch television. Safety is practical. Living a vibrant life has nothing to do with practicality. There is no accounting that can predict the bottom line of a dream.

When does a dream become an illusion? What is the distinction between pursuing a dream and chasing an illusion? When do you give up hope that your dream is viable? At what point do you set down the dream and say to yourself, “I guess I will do something else.” What else would you do?

I want to do good work in the world. Like every person I’ve ever met, I bring specific gifts to the party. Like every person I’ve ever met, bringing all of my gifts to the party is my dream. Unlike most people I know, my gifts do not easily fit into a single box. Or, perhaps it is more true to say that I am not good at fitting my gifts into a single box. I’ve been a tenured teacher, an artistic director, a corporate consultant, an executive and life coach, and actor and director. I’m an illustrator and author. I’ve worked with many schools and universities – I started a school within a school. Lately I’ve been watching entrepreneurs and accelerator partners trip all over themselves so lost are they in needing to know what they are doing. I wrote a book last winter that I thought would help – and I drew half a years worth of a comic strip. Humor is a great way to say what cannot be said otherwise. I’m a painter. None of those forms are the dream. They were attempts to bring my gift to the party.

This is my gift: I help people see clearly and step into their field of possibility. I help people see what they cannot see. And, like most people, I do for others what I most need to learn.

Here’s my latest theory on the dream/illusion border: Joseph Campbell once said that no one lives the life that he or she intended. We step into life with an idea of what we want to do or become and then something else happens. If you hang onto the dream, what happens is that the dream reveals itself in a surprising form. If you let go of the dream, you have nothing left to chase but illusions of fulfillment.

This dream/illusion question is no small affair…

Learn To Laugh

Comedy is about other people’s pain. Wiley Coyote going off the cliff one more time is funny. The guy slipping on the banana peel is hysterical as long as you are not that guy. Humor is mostly a status drop for someone.

I’ve been writing and drawing a cartoon called FL!P for almost half a year now so I’m inadvertently making a study of what’s funny and what is not. Recently some acquaintances that know me from my coaching life took me to task because my comic strip seemed out of character. “It’s mean,” they said. “Yes.” I said. That is precisely why it is funny.

The strip is aimed at entrepreneurs and there is a need for a bit of levity in a world so steeped in self-interest and confusing agendas. In many traditions around the world the trickster is an integral part of worship. We are not meant to take our gods so seriously. The reverence is always found in the relationship and the realization that the godhead is in all of us. It is our flaws that take us closer to the creative. Worship is a relationship and a full relationship includes laughter, joy, play, as well as inner quiet and awe. Tricksters break rules and pull the blanket off of societies inequities. Tricksters help us see what we pretend not to see. The Emperor would still be strutting around naked if the trickster boy hadn’t spoken a truth that the rest of the village denied. Truth comes easier with laughter. I can tell you that there is much public prancing in the world of accelerators and incubators but very little real apparel. Humor is necessary in a landscape so rife with pretending.

Artists are often of necessity the tricksters of their culture. It is the artists’ job to open eyes to what is there (versus what we think is there). It is the artists’ job to bring the communal attention into the present, to slap-stop the puffed up importance of things that do not matter so that the things of real importance can be seen. With a 24 hour news cycle and a congress ruled by corporate dollars it is hard for us to sort out what is valuable and what is not. The narrative in the commons rarely reaches the level of significance. It is no wonder that many people confess to getting their news from John Stewart and Stephen Colbert (both heroes of mine).

The greatest lessons of my life did not come gently and I am all the more grateful for the force behind the learning. My lessons came with status drops and like Wiley Coyote I have gone more than once over the cliff with an anvil close behind. Comedy is mean. Learning requires falling down. Stepping into the unknown is potent because of the myriad of things to trip over. If you can’t laugh at the bungle you’ll miss the lesson.

897. 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 a humorous look at the wonderful world of innovation and new ventures, check out my new comic strip Fl!p and the gang at Fl!p Comics.

Play The Ukulele

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

Last night I was at Ukulele practice in a garden on the shores of Lake Michigan. I am a rank beginner and learning to play the Ukulele with 47 other people. We were laughing our way through Over The Rainbow. I was playing air Ukulele pretending that I was expert at my chord progressions, when a sphinx butterfly circled us, flew into the garden right next to me, and began drinking from the flowers. It was close enough to touch. I’d never seen anything like it before. I was so captivated by the butterfly that I forgot to pretend that I was strumming.

A sphinx butterfly looks like an exotic hummingbird. It is shaped like a hummingbird, its wings beat like a hummingbird, it hovers like a hummingbird, and yet it is not a hummingbird. My section of the ukulele band completely dropped their chord progressions and joined me in gaping at the butterfly. We entered an intense debate about whether it was a hummingbird or indeed a sphinx butterfly. The people seated to the left of the garden voted for hummingbird. Those of us on the right were solidly in the butterfly camp. I had no idea so I went with those seated around me. Each camp had solid justifications and good reasons for their point of view. The butterfly paid us no attention. It was not concerned about our debate or our need to identify its species. It continued feeding regardless of the label we attached to it.

I can’t help it. In moments like this I step into the role of witness. I watched people enrapt by a butterfly. I watched their loving debate, their laughter, their awe. I watched this group of amazing people hold their treasured ukuleles of many colors – green, purple, midnight blue, orange, red, pink and sky blue, white and black – watching a butterfly of many colors – pink, orange, purple, salmon, white, blue and black – and I was in awe of their awe. They did not see how beautiful they were as they admired the beauty of the butterfly.

This is the role of the human being isn’t it? To see the beauty of the world. To appreciate and give a name to the awesome and unimaginable. To engage with the beauty and then to join in a simple way with the creation of beauty: this group who gathers each Wednesday night to play their ukulele’s together and laugh and drink wine and gape in utter amazement at a butterfly.