Truly Powerful People (361)

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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 just met Len. We were waiting in line at coffee house and I asked about the book he had tucked under his arm. I couldn’t see the title but the subtitle had the word “mindfulness” and that always pique’s my curiosity. He was at first timid to show me. He looked me over and when I didn’t present as dangerous he pulled the book from beneath his arm and showed me the title: Peace Is Every Step: The Path Of Mindfulness In Everyday Life by Thich Nhat Hanh. He asked if I’d read any of Thich Nhat Hahh’s books. When I said I had, he relaxed and the hunger for conversation about this new and dangerous territory called mindfulness overtook him.

Len’s father died of pancreatic cancer a few years ago and Len was his caregiver through the process. He told me it opened his eyes. His experiences navigating hospitals and doctors made him sick. Literally. “There is nothing about health in our health care system,” he said. “It’s not the people, the doctors and nurses were amazing but the idea beneath it all is to get you on a pill. There’s a pill for everything but no one ever addressed what caused the disease in the first place. I started looking at my life and my diet and stress and started asking myself ‘What are you doing?’” And then he paused and said, “That’s what started me reading books like this. If I wanted to be healthy – really BE healthy – I knew it wasn’t enough to change the food I put in my body, change the way I exercise my body, I also had to change the way I feed and exercise my spirit and my mind.” And then he allowed some of his excitement to show through and added, “I am different, now.” Like a conspirator he leaned toward me and said, “We can do this! It’s possible.”

Truly Powerful People (360)

360.
Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Catherine wrote, “Is not your power in the conviction of who we are?”

The question wrapped inside of her question is, “Who are you?” Isn’t that one of the big three life questions? The other two are, “What is mine to do?” and, “Where am I going?” Who, what, where. Present, past, future.

I like Catherine’s word, “conviction.” It implies that “who” is not a fixed thing but a choice. It is fluid and a decision. We get into a multitude of mazes when we believe any of the big three life questions are fixed outcomes instead of fluid processes.

A friend told a story: many years ago her father was a cartographer doing some work in Canada. One of the indigenous people observing how complex and stressful the cartographer and his crew made their work and lives, said something akin to, “You have it all wrong. A person only needs three things: a person needs to know their name, tell their story, and leave the planet better than when they came into it.” It is simple. Relax.

Who are you? Know your name.

What is yours to do? Tell your story each day. It’s a story.

Where are you going? Unknowable. The best you can do is leave the planet in better shape when you leave.

It’s a kind of nest: your name anchors the story you tell. The story you tell supports a greater story: caring for how you walk through your time on this planet is, if done well, making a better planet. It comes back to Catherine’s question: “Is not your power in the conviction of who we are?”

Truly Powerful People (359)

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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 last time I saw Carol her marriage was coming unraveled, her world was falling apart. That was 4 years ago. We both thought it had only been a year or so since we last met but the landmarks in time contradicted our felt sense of time. We laughed. Time might not move faster as you age but it certainly seems that way.

I asked her to give me the view from 30,000 feet: what did she learn or what had changed for her since we last met. With no hesitation she said, “Something within me is different. I don’t have words for it but something fundamental has changed.” Her gaze went deep inside of herself, reaching for a metaphor or some way to illustrate what she felt.
Carol is a fine actress. When her gaze returned from the deep she said, “Before, when I was on the stage, I was communicating something. Now, I am communicating with. And that’s true of my life on and off the stage.”

Sometimes I think growth is not a journey to someplace in a future time, rather it is a layer that drops off revealing what has been there all along. A heart cracks open, grief pours out and the mask falls away. There is one less layer of protection and that leaves us available with greater access to life.

Separation gives way to unity. This is the artist’s way; it is a mini life-and-death cycle. When we stop trying so hard to say something, to distinguish ourselves as unique, we have the opportunity to see our lives as limited and precious; it becomes less important to be clever than it is to be available. It is the moment when we stop attempting to be artists that we are able to simply live as one.

Truly Powerful People (358)

358.
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 never read one book at a time. I always have a few in progress and that sometimes makes for interesting information overlap. Right now, I’m tapping my foot waiting for George R.R. Martin to release book 6 in his Song of Ice and Fire series, The Game of Thrones. It is like cocaine; once you start you need the next book. I’ve had the shakes for a few months. If you know George, please tell him to get on it.

As I was reading book 5 I was also reading Dylan Ratigan’s Greedy Bastards. It helped me resolve some questions that I’ve been pondering for a while – for instance, my question: Given what we know about learning and education, what keeps us from creating a system that supports what all the data and research (and common sense) suggests? We’ve known the problems with the current system for 40 years! Why are we so incapable of acting on what we know? He has a very specific and compelling answer. Read the book – and do not take what he says at face value; spend 10 minutes researching some of the data he presents; you will ask yourself, “How did we let this happen?”

George R.R. Martin’s done a great study of feudal life and Dylan Ratigan helped me see some practices from the medieval world that I thought were long gone but have now realized are with us still. For instance, it was common for a lord or king to raise the children of a conquered foe – or potential foe. The children were an insurance policy against an attack. They were credit default swaps. You’d think twice before making an act of aggression when your opponent had your child.

Marriages worked much in the same way. Powerful families were intentionally linked through arranged marriages. You do not want to go to war against your in-laws, especially when there are grandchildren involved. A marriage was a power alliance. Mixing a bloodline was a way to increase power and assert control.

The hostages and arranged marriages of our day have taken a slightly less visible form but are they operate according to much the same principle. Dylan Ratigan asks us to consider this: the actual author of the health care reform bill was employed by the healthcare industry; the actual author of banking reform legislation was a banker. Our representatives do not write the legislation they propose. Why? Big business is like a feudal lord who holds hostage the children of our politicians: politicians will undertake no legislation hostile to those who hold the purse strings – which means they cannot undertake legislation that serves first the needs of the people.

The marriages are also arranged. You can’t get to into higher office without an extraordinary amount of money and the money is not freely given: there are expectations in return for support. Don’t you love the term, “super-pack?” I learned that there are dozens of paid lobbyists for every single politician in Washington. That’s a lot of money in play and favor to curry.

None of this is new news – and that’s my point. A crisis of leadership is really a failure of the followers. Here’s another of my questions: I’ve done a lot of work in the private sector and I have yet to meet a company that has the nation’s best interest at heart; why do we assume that a business model should be at the center of our public decision-making processes or that the private sector produces public-minded leaders? Self-interest is not the same as public interest.

In my George R.R. Martin/Dylan Ratigan information overlap there is an image that serves as the perfect metaphor: when it does finally and inevitably come to battle, the kings sit on the hill and the well protected lords lead the common people to slaughter. The people have no say in the game of thrones but pay the price in full. My question: why do continue to follow?

Truly Powerful People (357)

357.
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 a friend told me that I have the greatest job in the world. My eyebrows shot to the top of my forehead – “It’s a good thing,” I thought to myself, “that I still have a full head of hair or else my eyebrows would have kept on going.” I am fairly phobic when it comes to the word “job.” I’ve never understood it. Actually, that’s not quite true. I understand it as an abstraction; to me a job is akin to a root canal: I’ve never had a root canal and will be most grateful if I never have one. I feel the same way about a “job.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve waited tables, thrown bales of hay, dug foundations, painted houses, sold office products, unloaded semi-trucks filled with mattresses, cleaned chicken coops; I consider those things experiences, not jobs. There’s never been a separation between who I am and what I do. I am an artist. That is not an occupation, it is not something I leave at 5:00; it is a way of being in the world and I can’t remember being in the world any other way. I’m not sure what a day-off means. My dad used to say that he worked for his weekends; I used to wonder what that would feel like: working 5 days for 2.

My friend was referring to my work as a coach. She said, “You have the greatest job in the world. It must be so much fun to help people step into the fullness of their lives.” What a great phrase – and a terrific aspiration: step into the fullness of your life. She is right; coaching is great fun. And, I can’t help it; my coach-ness and artist-ness are one-and-the same thing: artistry is about the fullness of living, isn’t it? Coaches, like artists, help people see what was there all along: the fullness of life. I see it because I’ve had to find it for myself. Art was my Virgil.

Her follow-up statement brought gravity back to my eyebrows. She said, “You do it so well so why do you suck so badly at telling people what you do?” She laughed as my face bobbed from the force of my eyebrows descent. I stammered, which is what I usually do when people ask me what I do. This is what I know: if you are smart you will avoid me at the party because I’m the guy that will have you revealing your deepest desires 3 minutes after meeting me; you will have made a mistake in asking me, “What do you do?” I will say “artist” or “coach” and both will be equally ethereal. I will have no satisfactory answer. We will talk, your mask will come down, the evening will pass and you will leave the party wondering what hit you; you will feel better, fuller, more alive – or sad that you missed the dancing. Either way, you will hope that I didn’t record our conversation. I will leave the party thinking, “What a fantastic story!”

Truly Powerful People (356)

356.
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 watched Werner Herzog’s film, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, about the incredible paintings found in the Chauvet caves in southern France. Over 30,000 years ago, for reasons about which we can only speculate, people painted images of horses, bears, lions, and rhinoceros; they left hand prints and other markings. These are the oldest known images created by humankind. They are shocking in precision, shape, and delicacy of line. They are contemporary – in some of the shots as the camera panned across the images, I could swear that Picasso had spent some time in the cave working out his chiaroscuro. Many of the images overlap and carbon dating tells us that there was 5,000 years between the earlier and later images yet they live as one cohesive intention as if drawn by a single hand.

In the film, Herzog made a statement that seems especially appropriate to ponder on this day. He said, “These people did not live in history.” They did not have clocks or calendars. They did not take classes in the history of the ice age or tribal war in the year 37,000b.c.e; they would never think to distinguish between before and after the contemporary era; the concept of an era would be meaningless, the word “contemporary” would be lost on them. They did not locate themselves in their lives in the same way we do.

It is a leap year and we think we have an extra day. I’ve read the same question in multiple places over the past few days, “What will you do with your extra day?” Having just seen the film I ask myself, “Isn’t every day of life an extra day?” If I lived “out of history” would I note this day as somehow special? I hope so, but not because I consider it a bonus gift in the cereal box of my life. This leap year notion is made possible by how we count, a small hiccup necessary to keep our numbers in line with the cycles of the moon. If I count this day as special, how do I count the other 365 days? Ordinary? I guess a better question is, “What am I counting?”

What if, like today, you went out tomorrow and did something special to mark the extra day of life that you have. And the next day, too. And the next. What if you woke up every morning and asked yourself, “What will I do with my extra day?”

Truly Powerful People (355)

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

Peter Block wrote a book I often revisit called, The Answer To How Is Yes. It is written for a business audience but like all wisdom it applies to life beyond the glass tower. One of the premises of the book is that we get stuck in asking, “How?” We leap beyond asking “why” and too soon begin searching for how to achieve “it.” Both actions are essentially an abdication of personal responsibility. Point #1: If you do not know why you should not be asking how. Point #2: Look to yourself for your answers; clarify your “why,” and “how” will become apparent and personal.

In my latest revisit of the book I realized that in many ways it is a meditation on paths. To me, stories are pathways scribed during a process of transformation. It’s a paradox because the story serves both as a guide that points the way along a well-worn route, and it affirms that your path is unique, never before trod. You create your distinctive path in the choices you make as you go. Your path is your story creation and the age-old stories provide instruction in path creation.

I went back to Peter Block’s book because I recently did a peer coaching with a woman from one of my classes. She guided me through an imagination exercise and I found myself on a path. I took great comfort in how well traveled it was – you might say the legion of ancestors that came before me wore a fine trail for me to follow. On the path I thought the relevant question was, “How do I intend to walk it?” I could race through and not see it, fight my way, fear the tigers that might be lurking behind the trees…, or I could walk slowly and enjoy it. And then the real question came to me: “Why this path?” There were other choices available to me. I could have taken a safer path. I could have chosen a path of security or one that was less steep. This path was not a default though I often try to convince myself that this path is happening to me, but it is not. I chose it.

Why this path?

Truly Powerful People (353)

353.
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 tagline to this blog is something that I think about a lot: it’s not in what you get from life, it’s in what you bring to it. To me, this tagline is more than a clever phrase or nice sentiment. It’s more than a philosophical guide-star. The more that I think about it and do the work that is mine to do in the world, the more I realize that it’s an imperative of our time. It’s also an opportunity. Here’s my thought trail:

Something extraordinary is happening in my lifetime; it is something that has never happened before in the history of humanity. It lives under the broad category of The Pace of Change but this one we rarely talk about or factor into our news of the day even though it impacts every nuance of contemporary life. The first time I heard about it I was sitting in a classroom in elementary school though it meant almost nothing to me at the time. The second time I heard it I was in college and I leaned into it because I knew it was far more important than I could grasp as the time. Now, I’m living in the time that my teachers told me was coming; it’s not an abstraction, no need to think about it, I see it all around me every day.

It is this simple fact: it took many thousands of years for the population of human beings to double. The next doubling only took a few thousand years. The next doubling took a few hundred years. Never before now has the population of human beings doubled in the span of a single lifetime. And, in my lifetime, assuming I will live to a ripe old age, the population will triple. There were 3 billion people on the planet when I was born. In the space of 80 years, a mere blink of the eye, and there will be 9 billion people.

“What’s the big deal?” you might ask. Simply this: our systems and economic ideals – our way of thinking about the world – are rooted and structured in colonial intentions: it’s all about commanding and controlling the resources. It’s all in what we get. Manifest Destiny was a nice idea for the folks playing on the chosen team but was a horror story for the rest of the world’s people. It continues to be a horror story though now we have television and the internet so we can look at it if we choose to look. It might be new news but we citizens of the United States of America consume far more than we produce. We were the only nation on earth to occupy that special category until the late 1970’s. Now, each year, more nations join us in our model of consumption. It is an old and increasingly untenable idea to be in the world according to what we can get. It’s a global economy. That is more than a nice phrase; it is a functional reality and economies, local and global (no separation) run on the movement and flow of resources.

We are quite capable of going to war for oil or water or spice (salt was all the rage before the age of oil) but I suspect we’ve outgrown the good guys-n-bad guys storyline. The chosen people story is another variation of the good guys-n-bad guys story; it’s a useful story to mask a resource war but in a truly global economy it seems a bit out dated. We can do better. The earth’s belly is pregnant with people so obviously interconnected that it requires gargantuan hubris not see that we are, in fact, in this together. Transcending the tribal thing and the colonial thing is, in my mind, the real challenge of our times.

Life lived according to what we get prospers a few in the short term and wreaks havoc on everyone in the long term. It is an operating principle that worked really well for a few people when the population afforded lots of space and we communicated with smoke signals and pigeons. Today, it still works well for a shrinking few but since there are more and more of us… well, you get the picture.

The opportunity is not to continue cycling through models of dominance. The opportunity is to grow and reorient to the world in which we live now. We live in an extraordinary time because the opportunity for real change is present. We can continue to live according to what we get or we can pull our heads out of the sands of the past and take a look at what me might actually bring to the feast.

Truly Powerful People (352)

352.
Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Here is a brilliant bit of noodling from the more than brilliant Megan. Note how many thought-tributaries come together to feed this deep river:

I am reading this book called “Where Good Ideas Come From” by Steven Johnson and he writes about the “adjacent possible”. From what I understand, this refers to the possibilities that exist as a result of a known combination. So, for instance, before there was life on earth, there were elements floating around. When two elements bumped into each other it opened up a new realm of possibility. Another example is a house. You walk into a room and there are doorways (possibilities) of other rooms that now exist because you are in this room… possibilities you wouldn’t have known without first getting into that room.

So feelings come first. I think that we don’t just go to feelings and then to logic, I think we go from feeling to logic. I think that different feelings unlock different possibilities of logic. Anger will result in a different set of possible logics than will happiness.

When we have a traumatic experience, a surge on our feelings, we respond by denying, covering, avoiding, manipulating. When the feelings get really skewed, the possible logic gets skewed as well. The more we demonize our feelings, the more we alter the possibilities of logic. In the house example, we are burning rooms.

Resiliency allows us to weather feeling surges without damage. It allows us to keep both our feelings and logic in tact. We gain resiliency from the “witness”… our capacity to observe our feelings without moving to alter them.

It isn’t our feelings that are the problem, it’s the actions we take to avoid, control, or deny them that do the damage. The feelings don’t burn down the room, we do by trying to get rid of the feelings.

That’s what Megan would think were she to think about it.

Truly Powerful People (351)

351.
Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

When Catherine uses the word linger, it is as if she is weaving a spell or a child savoring a rich piece of chocolate. “Don’t you just want to linger in it?” she asked as she giggled and clapped her hands. Regardless of what you are doing, regardless of what you intend, you can’t help yourself, you linger. I was sipping coffee and I found that the sip did not just pass through – I tasted all of it. Every rich nuance came alive in my mouth and send ripples to the ends of my body. And, she wasn’t even talking about the coffee!

She looks at you with eyes that see today as the first and only day, everyday a birthday. Linger in it. We were talking about nature and she used the word again, “linger.” Stop and look around. Feel. Fall into this delicious bite of life. Linger in this moment rather than just passing through. Linger in the smell, the sound, the sensation. Linger in the ferocity. Linger in the thought and in the heart. Linger when the heart breaks, taste every bit of this yummy bite of life. The sweet and the savory.

Catherine told me a story of a woman executive at a retreat who spoke of her yearning to be in a place where people have time to finish a sentence, have time to finish a thought, to see each other and relate to each other; to have time to experience the fullness of alive. We have the time. The question is, “how do we live it?” Life as an email has its drawbacks. Life lived according to the clock, the list and the bottom line is survival but is it living? If you have doubts about the meaning of your life, linger for a while. Like a frightened animal life will come to you if you sit still.