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?

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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.

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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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Make It Ordinary

Posted on February 7, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

A midnight train, an early morning taxi, and a day at the Denver airport. Trains, planes and automobiles followed by a light rail into downtown Seattle and then a ferry to Bainbridge Island. I think in a single 24-hour period I will have only skipped submarine and hot air balloon as viable transportation options, though Judy reminded me that I had not yet traveled by camel. And, the day is not over yet so I knock on wood. These days I can make no assumptions about what the next moment will bring.

The benefit of riding on the rails, in the cab and on the concourse is that I’m very productive in transit. I’m a bit shocked at how focused I can be when rocking across Colorado in the dead of night or in the midst of thousands of noisy airport travelers by day. I finished the first true draft of the book. I caught up on emails (mostly). I untangled a banking knot, I made lists and all the while I watched the amazing dramas that unfold in an airport. I talked with Horatio and Diane and Megan. I had a text fest and toasted k.erle with a great cup of java. Judy played her harp for me just before midnight and it was among my favorite experiences all day.

I’m aware of the varied and glorious textures of this day. The amazing palettes of colors of this life are available if we only choose to see them. I saw the sunrise over the plains. I watched hundreds of small kindnesses and acts of generosity. Many were unknown to the recipient. A man pulled luggage off the train for an elderly couple. A woman quietly helped a young mother herd her children through security, doors were opened for baggage laden travelers, bus drivers waited for tardy riders, a barista left her post to give directions to a lost man and all the people queued for coffee stepped out of line to help.

And think about it – it was just a day like any other day. And, no day will ever be like this one. Little generosities swirl around us. The sunrise will never be the same as it was today; it was not like any other and the same will be true tomorrow. We have the capacity to see. We have the capacity to place our focus wherever we choose. The life we experience is a direct result of what we choose to see, where we choose to stand, how we choose to interpret and what we choose to celebrate. The day can be ordinary or extraordinary and the only difference is what we decide to perceive. Why not make the extraordinary ordinary?

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It’s About Seeing

Posted on January 16, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

The book is starting to take over. I’ve been working on it for a week or so with lots of bumps and uphill pushing. Today it announced where it wanted to go and required that I type a short prologue that I thought was post worthy:

This is a book about seeing.

Not many people see. Most people merely look. Just as most people hear but they do not listen, most people look but they do not see.

And, although this might not make sense yet, seeing has more to do with stories than it does with eyes. It works like this:

Everyone can see as a child. And then something happens. Children learn to name things with words. Then, they learn to spell the words they use to name things. Soon, they grow up and have a hard time seeing beyond their words.

It is a funny paradox about words: they can imprison your mind; they can also set you free. It all depends up how the words are used.

Artist’s and entrepreneurs share this trait: in order to master their craft they must learn to see again. And, in order to see, they must once again understand the power of their words.

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Exit The Drama

Posted on January 6, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

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

Sitting in the Philadelphia airport I’m thinking about Drama. I watching them unfold all around me.

Drama is the first level of Alan’s elegant and oh-so-potent model, the 4 Levels of Engagement. Drama is story without a root, otherwise known as a victim story. Gossip is drama. Drama is predicated on enabling, there is a self-righteous gravity spinning at the heart of a drama story. I just heard this: “Can you believe what they did to me… Look what they made me feel.” Drama stories are easy to tell and often feel really good; victim stories are like sugar and are addictive. They are only tasty if shared and over time you will find that you need more and more drama to satisfy the need. They are hell if they dominate your thoughts. Literally. You are without power if you give credence to or invest in your victim story, “Can you believe what they did to me!” is another way of saying, “I need to pull someone down to feel powerful.” Drama creates power-over scenarios. Drama is usually carefully crafted to relieve us of the reality and impact of our own choices. Drama blinds us to our participation and that is precisely the point of all Drama stories. Life is happening to you.

You can never know another person’s story. You can never know their point of view, their circumstances or intention. You can never stand in their shoes. It is an easy game to make another’s story about you especially when you have no way of seeing through their eyes. We see their story through our filter. We distort what we can’t possibly know. There is one thing certain, a bet you can bank on with a Drama-teller: they will never ask the other about their story because it threatens their Victim status. They will accuse, they will blame, they will concoct, they will imply, they will manipulate, but they will never ever ask.

To exit the level of Drama requires some modicum of self-awareness and willingness to own your story. It requires acknowledgment of participation; an inward looking eye at your choices. It requires a greater concern for the story that you live than the story you tell about others. Assuming positive intent is great place to start. Asking others about their point of view before whipping up a Drama tale is another healthy technique. Practice challenging your assumptions. Practice listening. Practice focusing on your story more than the story you tell about others.

Being a participant in life requires surrendering your Victim role. It engenders generosity of spirit, an open mind and more importantly, an open heart.

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Stop Pretending

Posted on January 4, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

666. 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 First Thursday in Seattle which means this is the night that artist’s all over town open their studios. My studio is on the fourth floor of a very large building so it is the hearty soul that troops to the top after so many floors of art. Tonight, I forgot that it was First Thursday (I’ve been traveling and am about to leave again so I’m disoriented) and was surprised when Andre showed up at my door to see art. At first I was confused but he explained that many more people were coming up the stairs so I might want to pretend that I knew they were coming. So I did. I opened my door and pretended that I knew what was coming.

While I was pretending that I knew-what-was-coming I started wondering how often in my daily life do I trick myself into thinking that I know what is coming. The answer: most of the time! Isn’t that the very thing that wraps a dull blanket around the magic of being alive? To pretend that we know when, in fact, we can never know what’s coming. To pretend that we know is to stop seeing. To expect the same-old-thing is to miss the extraordinary and new. As I sat in my chair waiting for the hordes to ascend the stairs I realized that I am not a fortuneteller nor am I a prophet, despite my consistent investment in pretending that I am. And, when I stopped pretending that I knew what was coming the most amazing thing happened: I was completely delighted and surprised by every person who made it to the top floor and stopped by to see my paintings. It’s so easy to drop the dull blanket and see what’s in front of me instead of what I pretend is there.

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