Whisper, the Heart

Angeles Arrien, a cultural anthropologist and famous master storyteller, exorts her readers to "pay attention to what has true heart and meaning."

No matter how many times I read that I seem to forget it. Usually when I need it the most, in the face of adversity, the daily challenges, the ups and downs of life, I go mental.  

We all do it.

Going mental is the safe route.  That's what the mind is there to do, sift through our experiences, our thoughts, make sense of the environment, analyze, compare, and conclude. It throws up solutions at an extraordinary pace, leaving us blinded by our mental superhighway.

And all the while, the heart remains still. It waits, sometimes a really long time. It doesn't speak in words; the language of the heart is more subtle and nuanced. The heart is like the blade of grass that pushes up and cracks the concrete sidewalk. It's insistent, patient, and ever present.

If there was a theme this week in my coaching practice it would be resisting the whisper of the heart. I would ask a client, how does that feel? "Um, well, I think ..."

Deep breathe, how does it feel?

That breathe is the distance between the mind and the heart. It can be a second or a million seconds. If you are patient, if you stalk your feelings, your mind will calm down, enough, for you to hear a soft whisper.

Don't miss it.  The whisperings of the heart tell us what is true, and good, and beautiful in our lives.

Right Leadership: A Story of Two Wolves

I came across a blog post today that shared bits of a story that I hold as one of my personal favorites.  It is not okay with me that this story be shared in bits.  So I rewrite the whole story here, to honor those who first told it and those who keep it going.

It is for the warrior/leader in all of us.  The best I can determine in research is that this is a Cherokee story, although the exact origin, time and location, is unknown.  Many take credit for it.  I will leave credit where it is due, to the wisdom teachers of all time.

Grandfather sat outside as he was wont to do every day.  He noticed that his Grandson was walking toward him, but seemed angry.  He was kicking the dirt, and Grandfather could see there were streaks of tears running down his face. Grandson did not pay any attention to where he was, he was lost in his own thoughts.  He threw a rock as hard as he could, and with a yelling shout, he continued walking.

Grandfather called out and finally got the attention of his grandson, who walked over toward him.  Grandfather said, "Sit down and tell me what has happened."

Grandson began to tell the story.  On this day it was his birthday and he received as a present from his parents, a knife.  He was very happy with his present and showed it to the other kids.  Some boys thought this present should not have been given, they thought him too young, they envied his present, and they started to taunt the boy.  Soon, a shoving match started, and then a full on fight.  Punches were thrown, the knife was taken.  "Grandfather, I hate them!" said Grandson.

"Mmm," Grandfather pondered this.  Then he said, "I too have had this inside of me. Let me tell you a story." Grandson was in no mood for one these stories, they were always long and Grandfather always wanted to teach something.  Grandson wanted to fight, he wanted to be angry, and he wanted to find an outlet for this anger.

Grandfather insisted, "Sit.  This story won't take long and it is a story about me when I was your age and felt these same things."

This was something the boy did not hear often, stories about when his Granddfather was a boy.  So he sat.

"I have had something living inside of me my whole life," Grandfather began. "I discovered them when I was your age and went to speak with my father and his father. You see, I know I have two wolves that live in my heart and in my head.  They live inside of me in my soul.  One of these wolves is a white wolf, and he is a seeker of beauty and harmony, he loves balance and peaceful contentness, and he will fight if it is the only way, but he often knows there are many ways, many solutions to problems.  Next to him is a black wolf, and he is angry most of the time, he seeks vengence, and will look first to fight.  He lives with jealousy and envy inside of him, he judges everything and has little respect."

Grandson was captivated by this story, and asked, "why doesn't the black wolf kill the white wolf?"

"This, is a good question," Grandfather smiled. "The two wolves live inside of me and are chained at the neck together, not too close, but close enough, they can circle each other and keep their distance.  They must be very vigilant and so must I."

Grandson reflected on this, and how he felt when his knife was taken and he got into a fight.  He could feel his anger disappearing, but he was still puzzled by something. "Grandfather, I don't understand.  If these two wolves live inside of you, and you are saying they are inside of me too, which one wins?"

Grandfather smiled, "This, is a good question."

Looking directly into his grandson's eyes, he said, "The one you feed."

In order for our spirits to truly be free, we must look inside of ourselves and discover who we really are, every little awful wonderful thing. We must accept ourselves in this wholeness, and then, and only then, can we step into right leadership, and be wise men and women, right leaders of our time.

In deep gratitude to those who have passed down this story.... 

Inspired!

I couldn't wait to sit down to write this post.  After my brother successfully finished the NYC Marathon on Sunday, I was pumped up, excited, filled up.  Simply put, he inspired me - by his actions, by the commitment and the courage.

It made my wonder, what is this thing we call, inspiration?

I looked it up and from a definition perspective I found comments like:  to heighten, to intensify, to stimulate, to encourage.  I do certainly feel these things, even today three days later. 

AND, I feel something else.  It's been hard to put my finger on it, so it took a while for this blog post to be created.  I wondered over the last three days if inspiration comes in compartments, like being inspired on the job versus in your personal life.  It occurred to me that I have had tremendous energy for all parts of my life these last few days, so the answer seems to be, no.  I can be inspired in my personal life and it carries over to all of my undertakings.

So how does something that I did NOT do, come to have such a significant impact on my personal life, my professional life, even in my alone moments?

Then it hit me.  When the undertaking, or "enterprise," is one of scope, risk, and complication and we can witness the undertaking first hand, cheer from the sidelines, hold the belief and trust that all will be well, we are forever changed by what is possible. 

My brother is 38 years old, has three kids, is an amateur runner at best and a year ago Thanksgiving he said he intended to run this race.  At the Holidays, with six siblings, all with kids running around, lots of chaos and fun, someone who says they're gonna run 26 miles seemed more funny than plausible.  And so I did not take much note of this declaration.

But as I cheered him on Sunday, I wondered about the deep sacrifice he made to train for this undertaking.  My teacher says, 'sacrifice' really means 'to make sacred again.'  To get up every week, knowing you had one less week to train, or that this week it was three short 8 mile runs, or next week it will be a long 13 mile run, and on and on. I now understand my teacher's comment.  This had to come from the heart; it can not be your mind that finishes this undertaking. 

Maybe that's a piece of what is inspiring: It is not a focus on what we give up but a focus on what we give.

Three hours after the race, my brother sent an email to so many of the people who supported him during the race.  I was touched by the humility and grace with which he thanked everyone.  He called out the moments when he saw them, at 96th Street, 110th, First Avenue, thanking them all, and saying how much their support made a difference.

Perhaps that's what leadership really looks like - to set an intention, to give of yourself, and to be so grateful for the support and belief of others.

PS, I also discovered that the word inspire means 'to inhale deeply.'  When was the last time you inhaled deeply?

Mine was Sunday afternoon!

And it still feels amazing.  Thanks, Neal. 

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. 

My Hands Are Full

This is an old story told by the Cherokee, the long version is much better, but we don't have much time so this will have to do. 

A Grandfather and grandson were walking in the forest.  The Elder began pointing out bits and pieces of nature, small glimpses of the wonders of the forest.  He asked his grandson to carry 'a few' things for him and without hesitation the grandson agreed.  They walked for hours.  The Elder saw much he prized and picked up one item after another, asking permission, giving thanks, and handing it over to be carried.  Soon, his grandson was stuffing his pockets, his back pack, and juggling as  many of these prize articles as he could. The Elder finally exclaimed joy over finding a special but large rock and bent to examine it.  Once again asking permission and giving thanks, he bid his grandson to carry it too.

"But Grandfather my hands are full."

The Elder smiled and looked deeply at his grandson and said, "I guess you'll just have to drop something."

This is the way of letting go.  We gather so much to ourselves, we think we have to or need to have more.  We think we will let someone else down because we can not carry any more.  Or, and this one is the worst, we think we will miss out on something, so we hold on to more and more.

Letting go is patience and wisdom and courage.  Simple and complex.

Letting go is not something you practice, you do it.  Or you don't.