Lower The Drama

Posted on May 28, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

801. 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’s the reason we invest in all the drama and gossip!” she said. “Wrap yourself in drama and people will see the drama and because they see the drama they can’t see you. Drama is a smokescreen. It’s a way to hide.” And then she laughed and added, “At least that’s what I’ve discovered about myself. And, even better, all that good yummy drama not only keeps others from seeing me, it keeps me from seeing me. And isn’t THAT the point.”

We are the last people to see ourselves. Horatio reminded me today that I am an easy target. “People take advantage of you,” he said. “You don’t see it but those of us that care for you do see it.” I wanted to protest but he was right. I don’t see it and I am always surprised and disappointed when it happens again. How could I not see it?

What do we do to keep from seeing ourselves? What do we do to keep from being seen? What stories do we tell? What games do we play? What addictions do we claim? We beliefs do we hold.

Her parting question was priceless: “Imagine what people might see if there was no layer of drama to obscure their view? What might we see in ourselves if there was no gossip to distract us?”

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What Do You Expect To See?

Posted on May 7, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

789. 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 weekly theme of assumptions continued in a surprising way, today. Twice in the last hour someone mistook me for someone else. My reality is generally altered (so I’m told) but when experiences begin to cluster this way I slow down and pay attention. Why today am I looking like other people?

I stopped at a table outside the local Starbucks to adjust my backpack and an elderly man in suit and tie approached, offered his hand and said, “Richard, it’s good to see you again.” Shaking his hand, I replied, “It’s good to see you, too and I’m not Richard.” A look of horror overtook his face so I added, “I promise not to tell Richard.” The man laughed.

Fifteen minutes later as I was sitting in the lobby of the Surf Incubator (for entrepreneurs, not chickens), another man offered me his hand and said, “Christopher!” This time I didn’t take his hand. I looked at him and then at his hand and said, “No.” A look of confusion descended on his face. He thought I was teasing him so he waved his hand at me and said, “Come on!” I thought about pretending that I was Christopher pretending to be David denying that I was Christopher but thought better of it. I’m confused enough as it is. Besides, Christopher was bound to be just around the corner and I didn’t want to be expelled from the incubator before my time.

I look a little like Christopher and Richard. What might account for that? Last week I cut my hair. I changed from shaggy dog to urban generic. I’m assuming that the men who approached me are far sighted so their picture of me was fuzzy. As a blur I look like a significant portion of men in the city. As a blur I could get away with all kinds of mischief!

My back up theory involves sunshine. The sun finally came out in Seattle and people are in a state of euphoria. Hope is running high. Through euphoric eyes everyone looks friendly and known. I might not have any significant physical resemblance to Christopher or Richard but sun euphoria made it so.

Many years ago, just after I moved to Seattle, I was constantly being mistaken for The Flower Guy. A friendly flower deliveryman was my identical twin. I never met my twin but people swore that we were interchangeable. Once someone thought I was ashamed to admit that I was the flower delivery guy. His name was David, too, so the confusion was double-the-fun. At the time I was working at a theatre company and a patron, after I denied being The Flower Guy, pulled me aside and apologized for exposing my other job. No amount of protesting would convince the patron that I wasn’t The Flower Guy moonlighting as the theatre guy.

We see what we expect to see. We see what we believe. One man expected to see Richard and I fit his assumption set. Another man expected to meet Christopher and I sat in the right seat. I ask myself when I step into my day, “What do I expect to see?”

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Allow Your Inner Odd To Shine

Posted on April 24, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

776. 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 was a day that awoke my inner sociologist. It was a Salvador Dali day filled with the surreal and the surprising. It began with a voice calling me from a deep sleep. The voice was saying, “Food! Food!” It was an imperative so I swam to the surface of my consciousness and I found Fuji the cat sitting on me, staring at me, meowing the word, “Food.” I’m not kidding. I blinked my eyes once or twice to make sure that I was awake. Fuji was saying “food” or at least a sound that was identical to the word “food.” I sat up and looked around the room for leprechauns or perhaps the Mad Hatter. When I knew I was safe I crawled out of bed and fed Fuji.

Later, as I walked to the ferry, I passed a group of elders. From a distance I thought they were teenagers because they were plugged into their iPods. They were chatting and poking each other on the shoulder and doing a mini boogie down the road. They were school kids in the bodies of grandparents. Again, I rubbed my eyes to make sure I was awake. I was but was by then I was suspicious of what might be waiting around the next corner.

What was around the next corner was a woman standing in an open plaza doing a monologue. She wasn’t preaching. She wasn’t standing on a box recruiting an audience. She was not on the phone. She did not appear to be crazy. Her bag was on the ground in front of her and she was having a fight with someone invisible to the rest of us. She paused in mid sentence, bowed, picked up her bag, and walked away as if she was on her way to the office and nothing unusual had happened.

After my meeting, now on the Seattle side of the Sound, I was walking back to my studio when I heard a lovely female voice singing a Beatles song. Across Pioneer Square stood a woman with a microphone. Next to her was a man playing an electric guitar. She sang with all her might. No one paid any attention. People walked by as if no one saw her and suddenly I wondered if I was the only person on the Square that saw her! Maybe I was like the monologue woman! Maybe people were passing me wondering what I was staring at! I held my ground for another moment and then faded into the crowd.

I have a sneaking suspicion that everyday is surreal, that these marvels are always present just around the next corner but we’ve grown numb to them or are afraid to engage with them because they might be dangerous or require some responsibility on our part. We imagine that it’s better to pretend that the oddity doesn’t exist and so we just keep walking. We fade into the crowd lest we stand out.

As I faded into the crowd I liked the idea that I was someone else’s oddity. What is odd for you is not for me and vice versa. The riches of my day were not in the norms, not in the moments that met my expectation. The riches were in the surprises and the surreal. Imagine how rich we would be if all of us agreed to allow our inner odd to shine! My inner sociologist is appalled by the idea but I think it has real merit.

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See Through Conscious Eyes

Posted on April 12, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

764. 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’ve been walking across the city every morning and again each night late as I return from the studio to where I am staying. Since I know that I am projecting my view of the world on every person I pass, I decided that I’d play with my projection. I decided I would see through more conscious intentional eyes.

We assign a story to people in a nanosecond. Pass someone on the street and, if you’re paying attention, you’ll find that you’ve dropped them into a story compartment. Listen and you’ll hear the labels you assign to people, labels based on a first glance or the briefest encounter. If you are generally fearful you will see fearful or fearsome people. You’ll see a dangerous world. You’ll create a dangerous world. You’ll create fearful labels. You generate your labels based on what you believe.

This morning I was dreaming about the possibilities of my latest project and it occurred to me that each person I passed was possibly doing the same thing. I began intentionally seeing every person on the street as a dreamer. Almost immediately I noticed that instead of sticking a label on them, I began wondering what were their dreams. I became curious instead of protected. Anonymous commuters shimmered and became people with rich internal lives, hopes, struggles, and dreams. They became specific and unique. They became three dimensional and richly complex.

I wondered if they were walking toward their dreams or had given up on their hopes and silenced their possibilities. Since the projection was mine, I decided that, like me, all were moving toward their hearts desire. I believe that all people, even when they’ve dulled their senses, are striving for wholeness. The pathway to wholeness is always through dreams and desires.

Mostly what I noticed was my view of the world shifted. I was seeing hope and possibility everywhere so my hope and sense of possibility magnified. The tangible changes were within me. I felt energized and vibrant and light of spirit. I wondered what would our world look like if we saw each other as dreamers and keepers of creative fire. I wondered what would happen within each of us – and therefore what we created outwardly – if we looked through more intentional, conscious eyes.

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Catch A Glimpse

Posted on March 20, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

Deep in the alcove of the side entry to an old building lurked a man wearing a faux bear hat and a too big worn out raincoat. He was doing a slow dance, in invocation and I stopped to watch him. Our eyes met for a moment, just long enough for me to know that he did not mind my witness. His slow pushing and pulling of the air seemed out of joint with the pace of commuters racing to get somewhere. This man seemed to come from another era. He was not of the city; his dance was a nature dance. After a while I left him dancing in his alcove.

I passed a family hunkered down in a doorway. They were tourists. They were dressed for Florida and seemed surprised that it was cold in Seattle. They were confused by the rain; their map of the city was dissolving into mush. “What do you want to do now?” the father asked his kids, trying to buoy their wet spirits. There was no reply. They wanted to be warm. “How about finding that glass blowing place?” he asked.

As I crossed Pioneer Square I saw, laying near the memorial to firefighters, an empty jacket, pants, socks and shoes. It was as if someone had lain on the ground and disappeared, leaving their clothes behind. I wondered if this was the work of faux bear hat man. No one else seemed to notice so I walked on.

A man stepped in front of me and asked if I was up to doing a good deed today. Then, he asked me for a quarter. I imagined he must be a genius marketing executive gone destitute. As it turned out I was up for a good deed this day and thought his ask was too low so I gave him all of the change in my pocket. I had a lot of change in my pocket. He looked at me like I was a slot machine when I handed him a fist full of coins. He smiled when I said, “Great pitch!”

Worlds collide. I once saw Stephen Hawking talk about multiple universes, like bubbles that sometimes brush against each other. In those moments of bubbles touching, we catch a glimpse into the reality of the other universe. Today it seems that we are, each of us, a bubble universe. How else can I explain these strange and wondrous glimpses?

Filed under: Perspective, Seeing, Truly Powerful People | Tagged: , , , , , | 6 Comments »

Cooperate

Posted on February 21, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

During my drive from Champaign to Omaha, just after sunset, it began to snow. There was a swirling wind and in a matter of moments it was a white out. The road was mostly invisible. Cars immediately fell in line behind cars. Trucks slowed and set a careful pace. People cooperated without debate, without knowledge of the other drivers’ political affiliation, gender, race or sexual orientation. We needed each other. There was no power game or status imperative. All the silly illusions fell away. We needed each other and we did what came naturally. We cooperated.

There is a collision of two great thoughts that I appreciate. The first comes from my friend Roger, a director of plays and studier of humans; he once told me that denial was one of the strongest human impulses. The second thought comes for E.O. Wilson (I’ve rattled this off more than a few times) who said that the strongest human impulse is to belong. Combine the two thoughts and you get an amazing collision of impulses: a species called humans that need to belong to each other but deny it. This contradictory impulse makes possible The Gap or Old Navy; can you deny that you shop at a chain store to express your individuality as a way to belong? I can only imagine that the Martians are having a hey-day studying us.

And then the illusion drops, the second strongest impulse retreats and only the first remains. We need each other. We drive into a white out. The hurricane wipes our city off the map, the earthquake knocks our houses off their foundations. We pull together, put down our need to be right, and line up to help. We see our belonging. We see this thing called “”the common cause,” namely, survival.

The question, then, is obvious: do we need to wait until we’ve exhausted our fuel supply, depleted our aquifers, or warmed our globe before we suspend our denial and see this thing called “the common cause?” More and more contemporary science is finding that we have it all wrong: survival is not something achieved by the fittest; survival is a cooperative art.

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Pay Attention

Posted on February 16, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

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.

Filed under: Gratitude, Seeing, Truly Powerful People | 4 Comments »

Touch The Eternal

Posted on February 13, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

706. 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 my last evening in Anacortes and I sit with the lights off watching the grey northwest sky fade into night. The trees lose their dimension and move into silhouette. There is a slight breeze and the silhouettes sway. The colors are cold and my little oasis is warm. I do not want to move from this spot.

Jim Edmondson told me that people go to the ocean to touch the eternal: the waves have been rolling into the shore for millennia and will do so long beyond our short lives. I have this small moment, this blink of an eye and tonight I know I have come to this guesthouse, home of my dear Horatio and Teru so that I might touch the eternal, too. The sun drops in the sky every night and has done so for millennia and will do so long after I am gone. Tonight, on the eve of my next wandering, I watch and know. I touch it and recognize that we are all wanderers here for a moment. My heart breaks and becomes whole in the same moment with the beauty of this sunset and the realization of what I touch.

In a moment it will be full dark and I will stand and leave my oasis. I will walk across the lot to the big house where Horatio is making dinner. We will laugh and talk about art and learn about the man Teru interviewed this afternoon; she writes personal histories. She captures stories for families before the storyteller is lost, before the story fades into silhouette, sways and is gone. Her work is sacred though I think she does not know it.

Yesterday Megan-The-Brilliant sent me a short video that she shot one night a few weeks ago. It is of Lexi and me coloring with crayons between our toes. We called it foot coloring and cheered when we drew with our toes on the page. “We did it!” we cheered, arms waving, hooting in triumph as Lexi jumped onto the paper saying, “I have to dance on this paper!” Small treasures. Simple moments. Touching the eternal and so very grateful for this blink of an eye.

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Open Your Words

Posted on February 10, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

703. 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 an old theme but has floated to the surface of many conversations this week: language is not passive. The language you use orients you to the world.

A few nights ago, Judy and I talked about the power of language, particularly paying attention to language that “closes” as opposed to language that “opens.” For instance, to say, “I can’t” is to use language that closes you to possibility. To say, “I wonder…” is to use language that opens you to possibility. Try it. Pay attention to whether you use language that opens or language that closes you to possibility. Make a game of interpreting your world according to opening to possibilities and pay attention to how your worldview changes.

In another example, Skip helps his students be conscious of their left-brain language of measurement. When they ask if something is good or bad, best or optimal, he’ll ask them to rephrase it so the emphasis is not on a measurement, not on a judgment, but on the engagement. A wine is not “better” or “worse,” it is an experience; describe the experience. Open. Participate. Judgment or measurement removes you from the experience. Step in. Move into the other side of you brain. Judy tells me that she asks students if a choice is “skillful” or “useful” rather than good or bad. Discernment is different than judgment.

It seems like such a small thing. Plenty of people dismiss the notion that their language has power; they tell me that life happens. It does indeed! Life happens and then we story it. We give meaning to our experiences. We interpret our lives. The color, shape, texture, movement, and power we experience are according to the story that we tell.

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Get Mellow

Posted on February 8, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

701. 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 seemed late at night even though it was not yet 9pm. I was riding the light rail from the airport and like the other 3 passengers in the compartment I was staring out the window. Tired and lost in thought as only happens at the end of travels, we were all alone together. So I was surprised when a hand touched my shoulder and he said, “Can you spare some change?”

I looked at him for a moment. I was disoriented from 22 hours of travel and he misread my stare as hesitation. “I want to buy a meal,” he insisted. Then he added, “…another meal. I only need 4 quarters.” He averted his eyes. I had 3 quarters, 2 dimes and a bunch of pennies in my coat pocket. It was the only money I had after my weird travel week. I dumped the change in his hand.

He took the change and held out his hand, “My name is Mellow.” I shook his hand, “My name is David.” He sat in the seat opposite from me. “People see me as the enemy,” he said. “I’m not the enemy. I’m not the bad guy.” He averted his eyes again and said, “I used to be the enemy. When I was younger I did some stupid stuff. Now, I’m having a hard time getting on top of things.”

“Why is that?” I asked, shifting into coach mode before I realized what I was doing. He scrutinized me before saying, “You aren’t judging me at all. You’re asking me a real question, aren’t you?” I nodded. “I drink too much,” he whispered. “I asked for money so I could get beer, not food.” He looked to see if I was now judging him. I wasn’t.

I asked, “Are you doing what you want to do?” He shook his head and then said, “I don’t know what I want to do. Not really” He looked at me again and said, “I’m not a bad guy. I don’t hurt people.” Then he sat up straight and said, as a challenge, “No one’s ever cared about what I want! You don’t really care, do you!”

“You’re right. What I think doesn’t matter at all. If I care or don’t care doesn’t matter. The only question that matters is, do you care about what you want? If you don’t care, why should I? I can’t help you know what you want to do. That’s your job, not mine.”

He wrinkled his brow and said, “I’m thinking too much about other peoples’ eyes.” We smiled. I said, “You’re not the enemy, remember?” He smiled bigger. I leaned in like a co-conspirator and whispered, “I’ll tell you a secret. You can’t possibly know what other people think. You can only know what you think and from what you tell me, you’re not a bad guy.”

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