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.

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. 

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 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

The New Old Freedom - Choice

There is an old Cherokee Medicine Way called The Principle of Noninterference. It is very difficult to master, and all but forgotten in today’s world.

Noninterference means respecting and allowing choice. It is the opposite of distance, absence, or disinterest. To love another is to not interfere with their self-determination and to allow a respectful silence, a connection without words that permits choice and change.

Sounds easy, but try doing this when you care, when you really really care about someone and you think they’re making a mistake. In order to truly understand how hard it is to not interfere, we have to accept the role of our ego, and the separation and isolation we experience as a result of it. Silencing our ego, another’s choice is simply their choice.

Let’s try something. Go back and remember a time when someone pressured you – when you felt controlled, manipulated, criticized for your choices. Do you remember one, what did it feel like?

Not so good, huh?

Although I write about this topic, study it, I still find myself in situations where it sneaks up on me. With the best of intentions, I have interfered with and disrespected others. With children and siblings, I see danger and want to keep them safe. With parents, I see flaws and wish for change. With intimate relationships, I have an expectation of the way things should be. All of this can be summed up as the World According to Kelleen. And it just ain’t so.

In Latin, the word expect means to “look out” – how appropriate, we are looking outside of ourselves when we choose to focus on our expectations, a pretty good recipe for pain and disappointment.

So give this some thought – stop wanting to change how things are, and start changing what you expect. Change your lens, shift your perspective, or shift the form of your relationship. Then look again at the situation.

The Prinicple of Noninterference is a vast teaching. This barely brushes the surface. Suffice to say, if you’re expecting something from someone today, pause. Look again at the situation and the person, with deference, admiration, and interest. Be patient with the process and open to the possibilities.

You’ll see – it just may make all the difference in how your day turns out today.