Messages From The Universe: Tango (possibly a part 1)

I've wanted to try tango for quite a long time, and this only intensified when one of my closest friends started taking tango... and then quitting her job and ended up teaching tango.  Several years later, she's performing in addition to teaching. At the beginning of the month, she made me an offer I couldn't refuse.  And so, I am now taking tango lessons. And as of my second lesson, the studio has a guest teacher teaching the lead part who is an international tango star.

I don't particularly believe things happen for a reason, but I do like to acknowledge and respect serendipitous messages and lessons from The Universe as they present themselves.  Tango seems to be presenting me with a number of relevant and timely considerations, and I thought it would be good for me to capture them for myself, and in the event that anyone else may benefit, do it here.  With those thoughts as an introduction, let us proceed.

* * *

The first lesson was mostly me saying 'hello, I'm very new!'  Beginner's mind.  Finding, again, that sense of being a stranger in a new community and being accepted and encouraged with, literally, open arms.  In time, I think I might have more to say about this - there are a lot of things codified in tango culture, especially in the invitation and acceptance of a dance that I have yet to learn.  But for now, it was a good reminder that there will always be people willing to not only allow me to be part of a community, but will help me find my way.  Mr. Rogers always said, "look for the helpers" - they are there.

Sure, there are a few leads that I give me the sense that they might rather dance with someone else, but they were new once too. So, eh. We are all terrible in the beginning when we're learning (and we're always learning), and I learn fast.  I have both the benefit and disadvantage of coming in with significant movement experience.  I learn fast, but I have some things to unlearn that others don't (thank you, ballet, for the duck feet, and precisely intentional mechanical steps rather than allowing the movement to flow... but I am a fast learner, so we're getting there!).

* * *

In no particular order except that I must take another step, another  lesson is about connection.  For those of you who don't know, connection, integrity, and order are my top three personal values.  Me writing about this is me making sense of, and establishing order to, my experience, to be meta-analytical for a moment...  Tango is about connecting.

Connection to the floor through the feet - a grounding, if you will - is at the priority level of being a safety issue, it helps you keep a sense of what's around you, if you extend your leg to step, and bump into another foot or a wall or etc, you replace your feet to avoid collision.  In this way, connection is an antenna of what's around you and grounds you.  It is the first connection we must make to stand on our own two feet - find the floor, the ground beneath you.

There is connection through your core, and tied to your intuition.  As a follow for an improvised dance, the cues from the lead can be as subtle as a slight weight change. You can learn the choreography, but to recognize it in the moment of improvisation requires an almost intuitive recognition of the cues. This I recognize as connection to self.  I may have more to say about connection to self when I start figuring out the lead pieces as well - much like you learn a whole new level of information when you teach something, as a dancer, you learn a whole new level when you move between following and leading.  People who can do both are stronger in each role than those who can only perform one role.

There is connection to your partner.  I am finding it very interesting to see how different my movement is from lead to lead.  There are leads for whom I must be exactly right for them to feel like they can move without needing to "correct" me, and then only somewhat tentatively. They can be hard to read, but are often also kind, and I think they offer their corrections in the spirit of trying to help me figure this dance out.  There are leads who are so focused on doing the movement that I'm not sure *we* are connecting at all, but the movement flows out in such a way that it shows that even if we barely speak, the required connection is made through the intent of specific movement.  I am torn between the two - there is kind human connection, but the movement doesn't flow as easily from one, and there is the almost mechanical execution of the second that lacks in human warmth what it makes up for in technical accuracy.  But it also feels less safe to err because error is poorly tolerated in machinery.  AND but because the intent is clear, it is easier not to err.  I may actually prefer the technical and mechanical latter as I get the macro details down, to the leads who are trying to micromanage the tension in my shoulders in practice arms.  But regardless - I learn things from each despite my preference for one or the other.

There is also connection to the spirit of tango, and the heart of the dance itself. I have been told tango is a dance of the present, and the present is connected to the past.  The lead, in particular is moving into the present from their past.  The follower must lean into and know the past that the lead is moving from in order to intuitively experience the present.  That said, the dance is not about the past.  It is about being fully present in the NOW.  To fully experience the now, you must know the past, no one comes to the present as a tabula rasa, and it doesn't need to be an acceptance or rejection or understanding of the past, just the knowledge of the past.  Whether that past is having known your partner for years, or whether that past is the split second of past that informs you of the intention of movement in any direction - it is past and eventually will inform the pattern of movement that leads us into the future, but the Now is the moment in which you exist.

* * *

There is a lesson about improvisation, intuition, and the Now.  I've spoken a bit about these three already, but there is a specific lesson around planning, prioritizing, and practicing.  I am a person who likes to be prepared. I like to have a sense of what needs to happen as well as what is going to happen.  I have observed the things we do to practice without partners in class and brought them home and done them in my living room.  We practice particular forms in class.  And then when they say, ok, now practice what you learned today, I have a new small vocabulary of movement to work from.  Tango is entirely improvised in the milonga, and in many performances as well.  While I'm building a vocabulary now, and I suspect my partners are thinking it might just be best to walk me backwards in circles until I can 'walk' (which is a Thing in and of itself in tango), when it comes to Now and 'dancing from/into the past', all of the planning, preparation, anticipation, and practice must integrate seamlessly into what happens in *this* moment.   Whether it is all jettisoned as you launch into the improvisation, whether it all builds upon itself in order to release you to the liberation and total freedom of intuition, the Now consists of taking the step that is asked of you by the tango.

Likewise, in daily life, you can plan, prepare, anticipate, and practice right up to the meeting, the event, the encounter, and then, in the Now, you must take the step that is asked of you by the Now.  Not to say that you can't make missteps in the Now, because you certainly can, and not to say that all that planning, preparing, anticipation, and practice won't help you to be able to better shift in the moment to where Now takes you because it certainly may.  But there will also be times when Now will tell you that the only correct step is one that you could not have planned, prepared, anticipated, or practiced for.

* * * 

The final lesson that has struck me to date is "attitude".  "There is a saying!  Dance me! I learned to dance with old women at the milonga ["and old men!" chimes in the woman teaching the follow parts].  I would ask them to dance and they would say dance me, or I will leave you in the middle of the dance floor.  [Leads], when you ask a [follow] to dance, ask because you want to dance with them.  [Follows], when you accept, you must be 100% in.  You commit to the dance.  And you accept with attitude and ownership."  There was more to that particular instruction, but the gist was - there is no giggling coyness on the part of either party. It is direct.  

In tango, the follow has the option to say no, with no repercussion including getting questioned or insulted on the decision. Lead, no means no, and that's that - move on, find a different partner, do not ask why, do not plead, do not insult, just move on. You will never know why the follow said no and it's not necessary for you to know either.  And follow, if you say yes, you commit.  Your actions must also be direct, take the lead's hand and find your dance position with confidence.  Dance me.  You want to dance?  Bring it. Prove it. Show me.  Dance me.  

There are studies that show people do not respond to competence, they respond to confidence.  If you seem tentative, exploratory, or anything less than committed, they read that as a lack of confidence and make assumptions about competence tied to that.  The origins of the verb "to con" was originally confidence.  A con man was a 'confidence man' - someone who, through being able to gain people's confidence, would then swindle them.  I think this ties back to what I said above too, about how a physical connection can be established through the mechanistic confidence of intent and how in order to navigate the "macro" skills of knowing where and when to step it becomes more clear when the lead moves with confidence even if they have not established all levels of "perfect" connection.  And issuing an invite, responding to the invite, then leading, and following, all require confidence, attitude, for the full expression of the dance.

Dance me.

* * *

So, those are some initial thoughts, three classes in. It is hard to believe that Tuesday will mark four classes.  Someone my first class suggested that I mark the date of my first class in my calendar, or in my diary (for the record, it was 8/2/16), or somewhere because then I could look back and say, "that is the very day it all started."  Perhaps I will say that.  Perhaps I will recognize the past that led me to that particular expression of Now as I dance from the past in the present.  I suppose it's within the realm of possibility that this is a momentary flash in the pan, the Universe offering me lessons that once learned, I'll move on from.  But for now, I recognize and acknowledge these serendipitous opportunities to learn, and thank the Universe and the Eternal Now for presenting them in such a lovely format.

Mystery Unfolding

I know, that was last year's Daily Practice, nonetheless, it continues.  I have been granted by life a three month sabbatical in which to focus on what comes next, in the form of being laid off with 2 weeks notice & 11 week's severance.

I am trying to think big.  Way bigger than I have been.  I see jobs posted, read the descriptions, and realize that's me 10 years ago.  I see jobs posted, read the descriptions, and... I don't know who that is. Which is ok at this stage of the game. I think. First things first, I am taking some time to be introspective & reflective of how I've grown in the last seven, ten, fifteen years.  Where I have been is not where I'm going next.  If I don't take time to figure out what I want, how I want to feel, and how that's changed, I won't recognize the right thing when I see it.

Lots of work -- today's thinking led to the realization that I wanted to bring the following archetypes to help me in what comes next: thinker, collaborator, storyteller, visionary.  My default mode of operation tends to be thinker.  In order to accomplish things, I integrate collaborator.  I have other archetypes that pop in and out as well.  Storyteller is one of the archetypes that has been quietly poking at me for some time.  Being able to see and draw out the connecting threads of an existing dynamic, and pull them into something.  I'm still learning to tell a good story, but it's coming along.

And visionary.  I wanted to put this one back, but it called to be kept.  And I had a slow dawning realization that I am a visionary -- often my big crazy ideas are things that will take several years to fully implement... and for the first time, I'm realizing that's ok. It's hard for the short-sighted, and short-term thinkers.  What I need to do is accept that my vision is correct and focus the short-sighted and short-term thinkers on the tiny piece of the vision that can be accomplished in a span of time and sight that their minds can comprehend.

When I realized these developing archetypes, I wanted to run this past many people... and then I realized this validation that these things are true about me must be owned by me.  I cannot keep looking to others for validation, for their acceptance of who I am.  Just as I own my competencies, it is in my heart and a core part of who I am, so too are these archetypes.  

I find myself at the heart of the flame, I find myself in my strength...

Towers at the End of the World

Here is the story I told around the campfire at the End of the World festival.  Before I get to that, you all should know, strangers are welcomed warmly, there is whiskey, a fabulous bonfire, and story telling at the end of the world.  <3

Once upon a time... there was a woman -- as she was out walking one day, she saw across a field a tower.  She was seized with a desire to climb the tower, so off she strode across the field.  

As she walked, fear and self doubt joined her. "It's too tall a tower, you can't do it.  Why would you even want to try?  Who do you think you are anyway, climbing a tall tower like that?  This isn't your field, you know.  You are probably trespassing."  As she walked, and they harangued, she had a realization that all the gods, the goddesses, the heroes that walk into battle with fear and mayhem and chaos... they may not only bring those things with them to aid them in the battle, they may also be feeling these things in their own hearts.  She said to fear and self doubt, "You can come with me, but you're riding shotgun and you are to aid and abet MY interests now." They simmered down a little at that, having been recognized and allowed to accompany her.  Now and again at a bump or a dip in a field they'd pipe up though.

She reached the tower and went in.  At each step she took, she folded a tiny paper crane (one tiny crane goes on the fire).  Each 1:1.  Each team meeting.  Each meeting with a boss, with product and program managers (starting with handfuls of cranes on to the fire), each presentation, each company meeting, each meeting with directors, each meeting with vice presidents, each step all the way to the top of the tower.

At the top of the tower she stepped out into the air.  In the far away distance she could see another tower.  Or maybe it was a mountain, at this distance it was hard to tell.  Between here and there it was only fog.  She couldn't see the bottom of the tower over the edge, nor the lands that lay between her and the next tower.  

And then the staircase on the inside of the tower started crumbling.  As it fell, she realized she couldn't go back the way she came up.  And then the outside edges of the tower started crumbling.  She took a deep breath and stepped off the edge of the tower (all the rest of the cranes go on the fire at once).  It is unknown whether all the cranes set free eased her landing with the lightness of their wings, or whether, untethered, they flew off into the sky.  As she hit free fall, she sang her people's daily practice:

At the edge of the world, I gaze at the moon

Light and shadow reflect light and shadow.

My heartbeat is magic, mystery enfolds me,

As I am blessed, I bless the world.

The End of the World

At the end of November, I am doing the End of the World event with the Wyrd Sisters. "Workshops on storytelling and the Tarot will be part of the festival experience." I received an email yesterday saying,

To start getting ready, if you so desire, in your meditations start contemplating the world’s end and (optionally) rebeginning. Contemplate legends and myths about the beginning and end of the world, and how those relate to your life. What are your own stories around the end of the world?

Worlds are ending and beginning every day right now, new æons beginning.  Each death brings with it the realization that each day brings the need to define a new "normal" -- and with quiet reflection of loss, there are some holes that simply can't be filled.  Space. New space to breath into.  And even the universes collide, the spiral dance twists in on itself, then out again.

Redefinition of self, no longer the hot destructive flame of burn out, but the long slow simmer of transformation, picking things one or two at a time from the crucible of personal alchemy and examining it -- is it part of the crucible, or is it part of the stuff the crucible contains?  What happens at the end of the world, which world?  Am I the container? Is the world the container? Or is the world the stuff in the container?  Does the crucible itself come to an end?

Abide - dissolve - continue.  

Calcinate - dissolve - separate - conjunct - ferment - distill - coagulate.

Teacher, in compassion, bless me. Bless me that I may cut the illusory visions of the bardo. Bless me that I may reconnect to emptiness and awareness.

The end of the world is now. And now. And now. And now.  And the beginning of the world is now. And now. And now.

I'm sure I'll have more thoughts to come.  This is just what I'm thinking about this morning...

Observations

On a less personal and more observational note ~ So aside from being in the front row and a little bit nervous about that because the majority of the appropriate congregation ritual response was happening behind me, having a front row observation point for the (very Catholic) ceremony was really interesting from a theoretical perspective (brought up Lutheran, have identified as witch since the mid/late 80s).  Very hard, of course, from the personal perspective, I ended up sitting where it felt like the giant photo of my nephew at the front was looking right at me, which was very eery.  

But back to the theoreticals -- since we're talking about elements, in an effort to keep somewhat grounded, I was looking for how the elements appear in the ritual.  

Fire is obvious in the candles. And it being the Catholic church, of course they had the little place that probably has a name I don't know where you can light a candle.  Outside, there was a huge 'cave' with Mary, and there were candles you could light out there too.  M2 lit one out there, but was too nervous/teary eyed in the church to leave my side.  For context, this is all happening on the campus of a Jesuit university and everything that goes along with that.  So, there's fire.   

Fire and air mix with the charcoal and incense.  So, counting that as air, but the church was ginormous, so it also had a very airy feeling generally.  Lots of space.

Water too was relatively easy to find, in the water shaker thing, that probably has a name I don't know, as well as the holy water at the back of the church, baptismal font, etc.  

Earth stumped me for a bit, but then I saw all kinds of earth.  Marble, flowers (so many flowers)... Not so much "earthy" earth stuff as solid forms.  The altar was very solid appearing.  The architecture was very solid around the edges.  So that was a fascinating exercise. 

The priest did a good job of recognizing that there were a lot of non-Catholics present and explaining parts of the ceremony in a way that was both informative but that melded beautifully with the service itself. He did a really nice job of 'here is why and how we do this' providing context and meaning to something that might have been otherwise empty ritual.  "In the Catholic funerary tradition we bless the remains because all humans are special and sacred in God's eyes," etc. 

There is a deep deep beauty about much of it, but the layers of patriarchy & 'you are sinful and you should feel really really bad about it' that are present almost overwhelms any of the potential for joy around the life everlasting, the generosity of willing sacrifice and love, and the grace and appreciation of having those sins absolved.  It's quite a conflict to hold in oneself.  Two such disparate spaces to maintain -- 'I am not good enough, but I am so deeply loved that... I'm good enough'?   And perhaps that's a fundamentally necessary part of the mystery component of the personal gnosis of the Christian faith, the transformative core.  

I will likely be an observer of the Christian church for the rest of my life as the dominant religious paradigm of the larger social networks within which I live.  I cannot subscribe to the faith in good faith for more reasons than I wish to go into here.  I feel like my thoughts here are being left unresolved, like I should have a summary about what it means to be observing these things from the outside.  But I don't have the words to articulate it right now. Perhaps another time.

....

Perhaps it is this:  our challenge as spiritual people, whatever our non/denomonation, whatever our personal and community practice is, our challenge as priest/ess/ex (or dedicant, or aspirant), is to identify what is good, what is right, what is beautiful and with care and love incorporate the *essence* of what works (care and love preclude inappropriate appropriation -- the difference as the Dali Lama notes is that you *pick* a flower you like, you *water* a flower you love.  Just because you like something doesn't mean it's yours to practice...).  It may be beyond my capability to articulate this message of inclusion of The Good, while making clear the boundaries where Good becomes Bad -- but they're there.  There is a deep spiritual yearning, and it is the role of the priest/ess/ex to help guide people to and through that yearning.  

Loss & Grief

My nephew (husband's side of the family) committed suicide a week ago.  Almost 24 years to the date my aunt (my side of the family) did the same.

Here is what I'm thinking right now around things relevant to this particular blog.  

I think memorials and setting aside time for grieving with family and friends (blood, chosen, or otherwise) is critical for recognizing grief, celebrating a life even if it was too short, and processing loss.  

And I think it's important for our kids as I... I want them to see and experience the rip in the fabric of the universe that a suicide leaves as a preventive measure.  You never take that lightly again after you've seen a shattered community after something like this.  As much as I hate that this is a real thing that has happened, goddamn it, I think we should absorb the result as much as humanly possible and make the repercussions and difficulties of coping as human as possible because to do otherwise is to deny the full experience of the pain of losing someone in such an untimely way.  It's ok to show that this is difficult because it *is* fucking difficult.  And to see people appropriately grieving in the different ways that people grieve is also important.  It takes many forms and each person experiences it differently and that's also ok. 

I want them to understand that healing begins with us all coming together to alleviate the alone-ness: of what we feel in the moment of hearing the news. Of what he must have felt to not be able to reach out and find the help he needed.  Of the hole left in the universe where he used to be. 

I know our oldest has had some exposure to suicide by students attending her school in the last couple years, but this is new for our youngest and... to see and grieve and understand the repercussions to family and community and for them both to tell people they love that they love them and to hear that back and to take part in some of the only shared rituals that happen in this mostly secular society and a family that doesn't share ritual space often is...  It's really important.  It's part of what it means to be a part of a community, to have a connection to people.  You take part in the rituals that mark passage of both time and life both joyous and devastating.

-----------------------------

And so, for those reading along, say it out loud, right now:

"I promise to seek and find help if I feel like dying or killing myself.  I will find resources that bring me back from the brink, no matter how awkward it feels.  I will call one of these numbers:

• National Suicide Prevention Lifeline -- 1 (800) 273-8255
• Hopeline -- 1 (800) SUICIDE
•  Trans Lifeline -- US: (877) 565-8860 Canada: (877) 330-6366
•  My therapist
•  *A* therapist
•  My spiritual/pastoral advisor or other resource 
• Or any number of other resources, even if I have to Google them."

*Yes, I do not have comments open on this one. I appreciate your thoughts and prayers at this time, but for my own self-care, recognize I don't  feel like I can appropriately respond here at this time. Thanks for your understanding.

Traveling Reflections

So, trying to process what just happened, as well as intermittent quiet moments on the bus thoughts, as well as tomorrow's re-entry to work world.  I feel like I need a 2-3 month sabbatical to get my thoughts and life sorted out.  
I'm back from Ireland.  We did a Rick Steves tour around the island. It hit so much, and there seemed to be more and more packed into each day until at the end, there was sometimes three or four days worth of things to do packed into a single day.  It was good, but somewhat intense.  E.g., Giant's Causeway, Bushmills, Carrick-A-Rede ropebridge, *and* Dunluce Castle all in one day?  And then there were days where we only did a few things (stop by Yeats' grave, walking tour of Derry's medieval wall & brief explanation of Northern Irelands "Troubles" OR the day we did both Titanic and had a quick drive past the "peace" wall in Belfast and through those areas), but which demanded more processing and reflection.  

Things that stand out in reflection -- 

• How close all the buildings are together.  And how close all the graves are too.  Sometimes things seem to be practically on top of each other, they're so close together.  
• How rocky and desolate the western part is.  There are places where people were building stone walls, just to put the rocks somewhere so they can clear some useful space.  And yet -- not lifeless-- there is life in those cracks.  In the Burren, in the grikes, the cracks between the rocks, there are plants happily growing away.  What at first glance seems to be totally barren, supports all kinds of life. It stretches so far that as you drive through, it's easy to forget that it isn't all rock and rock fences, so it's a bit of a surprise when it starts ending and hedgerows start appearing again.  
• And how the green is so green after the grey of the limestone.
• That people are ingenious in their ability & drive to find solutions that will allow them to live.  That they are likewise so ruthless in their drive to overcome both nature and people who might stand in their way in both the name of survival as well as in the name of ideology.
• ...

So much more to contemplate.  I went, sort of secretly hoping for an obvious message bringing clarity to come to me. I was so immersed in the ingestion of everything new and very close quarters (and little time for reflection) that openings for receiving clarifications and direction were not as available as I had hoped.  Still in the quieter moments, things did come through.  

I feel as though I have been on the brink of needed change for some time.  It is still unclear to me as to the nature of this change except that it concerns the need to find a way to be comfortable in my skin, a sense of economy of effort, at work.  My stress and focus is so high around my present way of being in relation to the work I do, that it cannot be sustained.  My ratio of effort to outcome is way too high.  And although on the surface, it may appear to be "the perfect job for me", I have a growing sense that it is not a good fit.  The complications start, as they do, when I try to identify what 'better fit' looks like.  

I (mostly) felt in my skin with a balanced economy of effort on vacation.  There were, of course, moments of tension, but five introverts living in close proximity will tend to generate some of that with the days going as they did. All things considered, it was remarkably smooth. 

How to keep beginner's mind, while assuming the mantle of authority?  How to create space for reflection and consideration in the face of immediacy?  How to accurately name and acknowledge emerging issues in such a way that they can be resolved without adding additional layers of complexity?  How many more questions in my head?

If I could make a living for a while with spinning & weaving, I would.  Alas, that math has not been conducive given my relatively slow pace of production (although ritual cord spun according to astrological and other specifications, with specific intent during the spinning, plying, and potential coloring? Prayer shawls woven similarly? Is an entertaining idea to consider on occasion).  But that's neither here nor there.   

Cannot process all things today... but looking for something that I can grasp as I return to the world of routine that has been less than optimal.   For today I take these things:

• Economy of effort.  Do not burn too hot, little fire, burn steady. 
• *Make* space for reflection and consideration, even in the face of immediacy.  
• Ask the beginner questions.  Beginner's mind is to be treasured.  

May Madrigals

As often happens with blogs, IRL has kept me busy this month. My life has changed, the repercussions yet to be determined.  I think it's all for the best.  It is hard for me to be both in action and reflective enough to support spending much time writing. Not that reflection hasn't been happening, reflection and processing have absolutely been happening, just that the written recording of those processes have not been happening.  The thought of how much writing that would have been is rather overwhelming!

In the meantime, the aspirants have had their ethics and warding/safety classes.  They went well. Nice group of folks.  I like the discussions.

We're almost at the mid-point of the year.  I've been joking with my boss that it's nearly the end of 2015 since the beginning of the year because time passes so quickly, and yet, here we are and the first half flew by, as it does.  Yeah, yeah -- barely a month until summer solstice, but that's a matter of days in quick succession.  The wheel turns faster and faster.

It's a thing, this wheel of time.  And sometimes all the things it contains are too big to find words for.  Silence does not indicate a lack of activity, but rather the opposite.

Words Mean Something

Chronology, the time which changes things, makes them grow older, wears them out, and manages to dispose of them, chronologically, forever. 

Thank God there is kairos too: again the Greeks were wiser than we are. They had two words for time: chronos and kairos. 

Kairos is not measurable. Kairos is ontological. In kairos we are, we are fully in isness, not negatively, as Sartre saw the isness of the oak tree, but fully, wholly, positively. Kairos can sometimes enter, penetrate, break through chronos: the child at play, the painter at his easel, Serkin playing the Appassionata are in kairos. The saint in prayer, friends around the dinner table, the mother reaching out her arms for her newborn baby are in kairos. The bush, the burning bush, is in kairos, not any burning bush, but the particular burning bush before which Moses removed his shoes; the bush I pass by on my way to the brook. In kairos that part of us which is not consumed in the burning is wholly awake.

--Madeleine L'Engle, A Circle of Quiet 

Words mean something. They do, they surely do.

 I talked a little about the Be, Do, Have framework in my reflections from my first Leadership workshop last month.

As Yeshe Rabbit & I were talking through the Distance Aspirant Ethics plan for this weekend, thinking about one of the exercises triggered something in my head that I thought I would try and see what happens.

Part of what I've included in my daily practice is requesting assistance for some very specific qualities that I need to embody.  "Please help me..."  "Please grant me..."  Looking for these things as if they would come to me from outside me.  As I was thinking about the framework of this exercise we'd set up, I thought about the "is-ness" of it (am-ness?) and it occurred to me that I should see how that changes the feel of my daily practice, especially since the exercise we're proposing for them will also become part of my daily practice.

It sounds mundane, but the difference between 'Please help me find the keys...' and 'I am the key...' or 'please grant me wisdom, strategy, and strength' and 'I am wise, strategic, and strong' is tremendous.  I look forward to seeing how this tiny-not-tiny change in language ripples out into the world.

It's little things, the difference between intellectual and experiential knowing in the practical application of known things.  The difference between changing happenings from chronological to ontological time.

Writings from Writing From The Spirit Retreat

Stone meditation:

• The big soft-edged grey stone that called to me from the edge of the curb near the canal. It is a little bigger than my hand and so solid & grounding. Scraped from where the different tires had pushed it along the road & curb-sides.
• It called out to me, the perfect rock, perfect in its imperfections, holding it’s essence though under what seemed like less than optimal circumstances. It called out to me to take it home.
• It’s heaviness is grounding. So solid, brigs me back in the flurry of uncertainty -- that airy, drifting disconnect.
• It tells me secrets of the alchemists — it is not what goes into the crucible, that is the essence of the being. All the magic that happens in the crucible is possible because of the boundaries of the crucible. The boundaries keep the elements of magic within appropriate proximity to act and react and merge and separate. The crucible retains the boundaries and allows magic to happen within but it remains consistent at the end, whatever else has been going on.

It’s an alchemically philosophical rock!? Then again, it was the one that called to me to bring it home...

• The crucible is the vessel that carries, can be rinsed clean, and is what always remains.
• Through transformation, we can add things to our crucible, to our stone soup pot, to our vessels ourselves, but the transformations that stand up to time are the transformations that rinse us clean, back to our essential natures. “What is essential is invisible to the eye.” (St. Exupery).
• Transformation through the elimination and removal of our limiting beliefs. The false stories we tell ourselves about who we are, that sometimes we don’t even know are false. When we become wrapped up with having and doing rather than authentic being.
• The final message of the rock:
  Shed your limiting beliefs and transform by going back to that which is essential to your being.

Thank you, rock, for grounding me today and last fall. Thank you for reminding me that the essence of being is that which is immutable and that which remains when all else is washed away.

———

Writing for me is a practice of processing. Human beings are ‘sense makers’ (or at least some of us lean that way). We want to know why things happen. What just happened. What’s going to happen. Does it make sense? All of the religions in the world, all of the divination systems in the world, all of the beliefs in the world (limiting and freeing) are stories we tell ourselves to try to help us make sense of the world.

Sometimes the world is non-sensical. Things don’t always happen “for a reason” or the things that happen are incomprehensible. Sometimes we try to apply a framework to those stories that don’t fit, trying to make sense of them according to something that has helped us make sense before but is not appropriate now, and may not have been appropriate then. Sometimes that leads to more nonsense or guilt or harmful/not right action. Sometimes our frameworks require review and adaptation and correction.

I write to make sense. To take the strands and ends, the odds & sods that appear in my brain, and lay them out in front of me. To take the jumbled pieces and see what patterns appear in front of me. Sometimes my stories are correct and true, and sometimes they are colored by my perceptions and application of frameworks and my limited perspective. Sometimes I need to process as best I can to keep trying to move forward.

———

Alas, I missed the next writing exercise — life is what happens while you’re making other plans.

———

Yeshe Tsogyal writing meditation:

• Perfect memory — that memory that surfaces what needs to be surfaced, correctly in the correct moment.
• Bees bringing wisdom to and from the flowers.
• Watching the incense rise and curl in a sun beam, being and knowing in the moment.
• I’m sort of mesmerized and distracted by the curls of incense. The shades of blues and greys, twisting in the rays of the sun.

…

• She says,
  Being and knowing in the moment. It’s ok sometimes to just be. And know. Let it be.

On Leadership

"Leadership is not just required from people in leadership positions, it is required of every one. -- Katrina Messenger

Thursday was the first day of a course I'm taking called Mastering Leadership.  Ostensibly it's mostly work-related, but also kinda not.  The first video they showed was this one:
http://youtu.be/uAy6EawKKME. It's by Dwayne Dudly on Leadership Everywhere and you should go watch it because it's good.  You never know when you are going lead someone somewhere they didn't know they needed to go.

Much of the rest of the course will be about self-awareness, acting in accordance with that self-awareness with intention, and accountability.  For folks who are part of CAYA, this should sound like a familiar refrain.

We started with a minute of mindfulness.  A "check in".  I can't remember if there was a minute of reflection at the end, but there was a corresponding "check out".

In my practice, right action requires clarity of intent & accountability, at least to myself, often to many others.  I think this is going to be a good course.  And it is obvious that it will be applicable to so much more than just work.  The tricky dynamics of work will be where results are first and initially most powerfully observed, but, as leadership does, I have no doubt that it will appear elsewhere in my life as well.  Already I'm testing theories, and had a tentative confirmation of theory.

It seems a little orthogonal to what this blog is ostensibly about, but... not really.  CAYA's Ground of Being is Joyful Service.  A leader is just someone helping a bunch of people get to where they're going.  My other Joyful Service is in connecting people with the information they need to make changes in the world.  In their lives. In The World.  Librarianship is, I think, a calling as much as any other calling.  I do librarianship sort of in a background sort of way, by enabling access to electronic resources, and at this point I do that by leading and coordinating teams of people to assist in that end goal.

One of the early discussion points Thursday was about approach to life.  There are three ways you can approach life.  (There might be a humorous fourth, but it seemed a group serious about their participation and I didn't feel it would be appropriate to bring it up in the moment...).

• Do-Have-Be: I do this, so I can have that, so I can be something (being follows doing/having).
• Have-Do-Be: I have this, so I can do that, so I can be something (being follows having/doing).
• Be-Do-Have: I am something so I do this which brings me that (being provides what one does/has).
• (The fourth is Do-Be-Do-Be-Do & it's a song and a dance of a life).

I am ever so curious to see where this journey leads.  I am ever so curious to see what this year brings.

February's Silent Moon

Seems like forever.  Doesn't it always?

Random thoughts:

• We have moved from being Aspirants to Dedicants.  We'll meet later this month to talk about the upcoming year.  It was pretty well perfect with the usual attendant "whoops, we're online" glitches, taken in stride, as you do.  Hail to the Elements.
• Nike has been sweet to my girls.  Thank you Nike!
• The moon was so bright last night I wondered if I was going to be able to get to sleep.  I did, eventually.  But it was a beautiful night for Mother of the New Time and various other things that happened along those lines.
• From Yeshe Rabbit & CAYA:  We recognize February as the Silent Moon. How can we find silent time to restore and regenerate our enthusiasm for our lives/work/relationships? 
• So needed.  With crazy busy (and awesome) kids, this becomes ever more complicated until my little fledglings fly (which seems way closer than it should be for the oldest, and yet... here we are... two and a half years from it!).  I've been taking the time at night after everyone is in bed. After getting everyone to bed.  It makes for late nights, short nights, and hard mornings.  Mornings are hard enough, but... I need time.  Unwinding, just being, reading, letting things process on the back burner...  I'm a night owl by nature, so it's the easiest time for me.  But it's easy to drift in the evenings and not restore/regenerate.
  
  For now it will have to be grabbing bits and pieces as I come to them.  Weaving is nice, the rhythmic thunk as the heddles shift.  It goes so quickly with fabric scraps.  I may have enough of the little girl tights to do another floor mat.  The hardest part is setting up the loom, the warping of the thread, then dressing the loom with the warp, threading the heddles then slaying the reed.  Oof.  But then it's back to the thunk, shuttle, thunk, shuttle.  For the upcoming regional swim meet, I will probably start a new knitting project to take with me.  I have So Much Yarn in my freezer.  I used to try to make something as I spun fiber up, but I enjoy spinning most of all, and somehow got away from that idea.  And the possibilities with a loom are broader in terms of using old clothes to make new mat sorts of things.  But since I enjoy spinning, I need to use that up too.  ALL THE PROJECTS!  These things are restorative and regenerative for me.
  
  Also restorative/regenerative is journaling.  Sometimes.  Just getting it out.  I journal like I blog though -- sort of intermittently.  Cuing of things (like this) helps somewhat though. 
• Last night on our way home from dropping M2's friend off from their choir rehearsal, as we drove past the park on the hill, a fat happy bunny scooted across the road in front of us, causing the entire car of us to break out in coos of "aww, bunneh!  Go bunneh, go go go!  Look at the fuzzy little bunneh butt!  And the fuzzy little bunneh ears!  Bunnehhhhhhhh!"  Bunneh.  

And now to carry on.  I think that's the majority of the battle in finding the silent recovery/restorative/regenerative/rejuvinative spaces -- there's always something I *should* be doing... taking that language and recognizing it's often *could* be doing, and prioritizing the important silences and spaces in is critical for survival.