Wisdom's Ancestor

I'm sitting here tonight a bit confused and sad.  Maybe it's the Seattle weather, which trust me, would make anyone sad. 

Nah, not just the weather.  The feeling that's floating around me is hard to shake.  It's been a tough week.  The weekend's events shadowed the week.  Monday, I said good-bye to a fabulous client as she finished her work and is off to Africa!  I am thrilled for her and will miss her.  I gave a presentation at the University of Washington this week.  I usually love doing that, working with the students, offering them insights into their personalities, as we discuss the ways that humans affect the outcome of any enterprise.  Sigh.  Presentation fell flat.  Energy kept shifting. 

Rest of the week, more of the same.

Now I'm sitting here trying to figure out what's up.  Is this just me? Or are others feeling the same way?  My mind wanders back to Arizona.  Am I more affected by the shootings in Arizona than I have acknowledged? Are others?

I read an article this week that is rolling around in my head.  George Freidman wrote the article and in it he suggested that America is a Republic that accidently became an Empire.  We created this country to be one thing, and it became another.  Now it fights itself, Republic vs Empire, like the Black and White Wolf, a never-ending battle.  ( See below, Right Leadership:  A Story of Two Wolves.)

I realize I am more like the black wolf tonight: edgy, a bit frustrated, and itching for an argument. I set an intention for this week to be productive and full, energetic and prosperous.  Despite my best efforts, didn't happen.  My intention devolved to attachment, and now I feel disappointed and crappy. 

I am searching my knowledge for the nugget that applies here, for the wisdom that my teachers have shared with me and that I can pass along. 

At first nothing comes, and the edginess takes a firmer grip.  Slowly, though, like a wafting feather, something tickles me at the very back of my mind.  Tugging at this resisting thought, I finally yank it free.

"All energy is neutral, Kelleen."

I expel my breathe, the shoulders come down, I allow my head to hang for just a second. All energy is neutral, neither positive nor negative.  We transmute it, make it into something, and this alchemy touches the inner core of who we are and reflects back to us through the lens of our outer world. 

This discernment, wisdom's ancestor, is what went lacking this week.   I lost touch with my ability to discern truth and hold a vision.  It is a good lesson.

All energy is neutral. We make it otherwise. 

Humility

Today is extraordinary.  Not because we have snow here in Seattle, the first of the season, and not because we are coming into the Holidays, with all of its festivities. 

Today is extraordinary, because I sit here typing on my computer looking out my Southward-facing windows onto my little porch with my plants all sprinkled with snow and I received a visitor.  The most beautiful hummingbird, green and red, came right to my door, pecked his beak on my window as if looking to get inside, and stayed there flicking his wings, looking right at me, for what seemd like minutes, probably seconds, but I stopped breathing, in those seconds.  I'd never been that close, though separated by a pane of glass, so close. 

When I started breathing again, a big smile spread across my face.  I felt like that little kid I once was, and then more grown up and not so little as time flew by, waiting impatiently on Christmas Eve, in and amongst all the bright tiny lights and the happy colored wrapping paper, that air of expectation, and awe, and wonder.

I have the lightest of hearts right now.  And it made me think what is means to be humble, to have sincere humility. The tiniest little creature, with what I understand, has the most valient of hearts.  And its own super powers - the ability to fly backwards! 

I know that Level 5 Leadership comprises humility and will.  I am pleased to have had this reminder from the hummingbird today, a true symbol of what leadership - and joy! - can look like this, in these times. 

The Alchemy of Ceremony

I feel very honored and humbled to take part in two ceremonies this coming weekend - ancient ceremonies from the people who lived here first.

As I've gotten ready for these ceremonies over the last few weeks and months, I've struggled to do everything right, to do all the things required of me.  I put tremendous thought into the process, worried whether I would be able to complete the tasks, and wondered what awaited me on the other side of these ceremonies. 

Then first my health started to present problems.  Then it was my friendships, that seemingly out of the blue disintegrated.  Next it was my teachers, most of them, who seemed disinterested in my process and I felt alone handling these challenges. Then my business stalled.  Those were the "normal" things.  I also had some mysterious weird stuff happen too.  A car window that of its own accord went down and refused to go back up. Things that went missing, and then ended up right in front of me.  Emails that were sent but never received. People I don't even know, offering to tell me what's wrong in my life.

After a while, it became obvious that all of this was associated with the ceremonies.  But to what end?  What was going on and how could I make sense of it?

When things fall apart pay attention.  It is you telling yourself something.  Turns out I had alot of things I had been storing up for the right moment, when I was receptive to hearing them.  Most of those things had to do with old ways of being, tools that were once useful, that I no longer needed.

This is how they're released.  We have to bring them up, and have one more really good hard look at them.  If your friendships are disintegrating, maybe they were always rocky but now you're able to see why and to face it and fix it or let it go.  If your business is stalling maybe you aren't doing the thing you love and were born to do.  It could be time for a small course correction or a major exit off that highway.  If you study with certain teachers and feel less and less connected to them, maybe you're giving yourself permission to seek out new teachers. 

In the end when we ask for our heart's desire, do we really expect that we will get it without some major surgery happening in our life?

Be grateful for the answers you're getting as you pursue your dream and try, please try, to remember not to be attached to how you get there.  In my experience, what looks like a disaster is often a great gift. 

The Nature of Giving

Isabel Allende - the niece of the assassinated Chilean President Salvadore Allende - wrote this....

All Things Considered , April 4, 2005 · I have lived with passion and in a hurry, trying to accomplish too many things. I never had time to think about my beliefs until my 28-year-old daughter Paula fell ill. She was in a coma for a year and I took care of her at home, until she died in my arms in December of 1992.

During that year of agony and the following year of my grieving, everything stopped for me. There was nothing to do -- just cry and remember. However, that year also gave an opportunity to reflect upon my journey and the principles that hold me together. I discovered that there is consistency in my beliefs, my writing and the way I lead my life. I have not changed, I am still the same girl I was fifty years ago, and the same young woman I was in the seventies. I still lust for life, I am still ferociously independent, I still crave justice and I fall madly in love easily.

Paralyzed and silent in her bed, my daughter Paula taught me a lesson that is now my mantra: You only have what you give. It's by spending yourself that you become rich.

Paula led a life of service. She worked as a volunteer helping women and children, eight hours a day, six days a week. She never had any money, but she needed very little. When she died she had nothing and she needed nothing. During her illness I had to let go of everything: her laughter, her voice, her grace, her beauty, her company and finally her spirit. When she died I thought I had lost everything. But then I realized I still had the love I had given her. I don't even know if she was able to receive that love. She could not respond in any way, her eyes were somber pools that reflected no light. But I was full of love and that love keeps growing and multiplying and giving fruit.

The pain of losing my child was a cleansing experience. I had to throw overboard all excess baggage and keep only what is essential. Because of Paula, I don't cling to anything anymore. Now I like to give much more than to receive. I am happier when I love than when I am loved. I adore my husband, my son, my grandchildren, my mother, my dog, and frankly I don't know if they even like me. But who cares? Loving them is my joy.

Give, give, give -- what is the point of having experience, knowledge or talent if I don't give it away? Of having stories if I don't tell them to others? Of having wealth if I don't share it? I don't intend to be cremated with any of it! It is in giving that I connect with others, with the world and with the divine.

It is in giving that I feel the spirit of my daughter inside me, like a soft presence.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4568464

A Revolutionary Act

I sat down to write another blog post, and it was like pulling teeth.  I started out with the intention to write about truth-telling and relate it to the workplace, asking the question where do we bravely tell the truth?

Nothing happened.  That creative spark I always feel deserted me.  Gone, poof.  Nada.

I thought at first that I was just pushing the topic into overload, and decided to look for inspiration elsewhere.  Pulled out some of my favorite books, hoping that something would light that fire and the process to create would begin. 

Still nothing. 

Slowly the words crept into my consciousness.  Where aren’t you telling the truth, Kelleen?

Now we were someplace else.  The vague shadow of my life was pushing through the veils of separation and wanted out – out out.

This is Seattle, so being ‘out’ is nearly deifying. I thought how hard could it be, to say the truth, my truth. 

So I typed the next words – I actually typed the truth, the stripped it down, going for broke, truth.

In a total copycat maneuver, channeling Kevin Costner in Bull Durham ala “I believe in long slow deep wet kisses that last for three days…” thang, I typed.  And typed.  My fingers flew, breaking land speed barriers….

Uh-Oh.  (Sh**.) 

You can’t see this but what was on this page, before I deleted it, was my truth. When I read what I wrote, I actually looked over my shoulder in an unconscious move to see if “IT” had gotten out.

What the hell is so scary about any of that stuff anyway; I’ll never know.  But I got the point.  When you’re a coach, and you do my kind of work, it isn’t about knowing all the answers, and typing them up in a nice neat blog post.   

It isn’t about asking the right questions either, which I’m sure surprises some of you. What is a question but an attempt to limit a conversation and take it in a prescribed direction? Right?

The point, is only that we all have truth-telling to do.  And if we’re really lucky we have someone in our life that will be called to witness our truth - a brother, girlfriend, lover, or a coach. We want to know that those mini acts of bravery or those massively courageous moments, are actually seen by someone, someone who knows, someone who appreciates our effort, small or large, to cast off the illusion and step into light. 

And that is the fuel of truth.

George Orwell said, “During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.”

Viva la Revolucion!!!!

(This blog post is dedicated to Kath N. and those of you who have told the truth, stepping into what is true for you, I admire you and respect you.)