A blessing of trees and storms

The Man Watching
-Rainer Maria Rilke

I can tell by the way the trees beat, after
so many dull days, on my worried windowpanes
that a storm is coming,
and I hear the far-off fields say things
I can't bear with a friend,
I can't love without a sister.

The storm, the shifter of shapes, drives on
across the woods and across time,
and the world looks as if it had no age:
the landscape, like a line in the psalm book,
is seriousness and weight and eternity.

What we choose to fight is so tiny!
What fights with us is so great!
If only we would let ourselves be dominated
as things do by some immense storm,
we would become strong too, and not need names.

When we win it's with small things,
and the triumph itself makes us small.
What is extraordinary and eternal
does not want to be bent by us.
I mean the Angel who appeared
to the wrestlers of the Old Testament:
when the wrestlers' sinews
grew long like metal strings,
he felt them under his fingers
like chords of deep music.

Whoever was beaten by this Angel
(who often simply declined the fight)
went away proud and strengthened
and great from that harsh hand,
that kneaded him as if to change his shape.
Winning does not tempt that man.
This is how he grows: by being defeated, decisively,
by constantly greater beings.

-Translated by Robert Bly

from Risking Everything: 110 Poems of Love and Revelation

Edited by Roger Housden

Are you ULPing yourself?

I read an interesting book that's been hanging with me, the learnings flitting back to me here and there as I continue on my own personal upward spiral of growth, The Big Leap, by Gay Hendricks. It's a quick read and is all about recognizing what the author calls "Upper Limit Problems," problems (self-limiting beliefs, really) such as consciously holding oneself back so as not to outshine a sibling or so as not to take more than one's share of space in a given situation. Some of us are brought up to believe that it's rude to act as if we matter or are in any way an authority. Once we notice that we're held by an Upper Limit Problem (ULP) such as this (there are others that you can read about in the book) we can begin to understand where and how we're holding ourselves back by not owning our own potential.

The Big Leap provides guidance and inspiration that attunes the reader's awareness in such a way that knowing what to do next is a no-brainer -- live in the Zone of Genius, of course! To get to the Zone of Genius, that place where we're being more, experiencing more happiness, well being and wealth, and making a bigger contribution to the world (a man after my own heart!<3), we must get past our Upper Limit Problem -- stop ULPing ourselves, as it were. Hendricks invites the following self-inquiry as a means of evoking the Zone of Genius:

• Am I willing to increase the amount of time every day that I feel good inside?
• Am I willing to increase the amount of time that my whole life goes well?
• Am I willing to feel good and have my whole life go well all the time?

Sounds pretty nice, huh? With helpful exercises to get clear on your Zone of Genius, to Articulate Your Unique Ability, and even to redefine time so there's always enough of it, it's hard to come away without feeling an expanded sense of what's possible. I'd love to continue the conversation of what reading this book evokes in you and share learnings. If you've read it or intend to, let me know what came up for you by leaving a comment here.

Getting caught up?

There's been a resounding theme of catch-up this week in my scope of awareness. Are you noticing it, too?

People seem to be playing catch-up all around me, myself included. ...and it wasn't until the other day that I began to realize what bullshit this game of catch-up actually is. There I was, moving along steadily, right on schedule, all snuggly and warm in my Personal Safety Zone, then *BLAM* -- I get hit hard in the center of my chest with a tremendous blow of anxiety. It came on as I was listening to a recording of a class I had missed... I wasn't doing anything terribly strenuous and, in fact, was feeling really good about reconnecting, albeit virtually, with my teacher and classmates. I knew I needed some support so I stopped what I was doing, made note of the specific topic that was being discussed at the time of the anxiety attack, then began writing about it.

The details of what triggered this anxiety in me are not as relevant as what I learned from writing. Here's what was revealed as I wrote:

"It's about _______. Seriously, [do I have to do this] right now? I'm frustrated because I HAVE to wait  before I can use this piece. I HAVE to wait until I figure out how the heck I'm going to do this other thing -- and in a REALLY big way. I HAVE to bank the knowledge I'm gaining and trust that I'll apply it later. That's really frustrating and causing me anxiety. I SO want to apply more of this right now. ...now, is it really true that I HAVE to wait? No. ...and, I'm still making good progress if I don't [do this] right now."

 

Do you see it? I was clearly NOT being present. I was moving along ALOT faster than I'd realized and getting ahead of myself. My body knew this and retaliated, forcing me to slow down and come back to the reality of what was there for me, in that very moment.

 

I took a few deep breaths, closed my eyes and asked, "so, what now?" Then it came to me, loud and clear. If I go after something like I'm chasing it, I'm always going to have to work to catch up with it. This way of going about things is very likely to be stressful, if not at first, then after some time, then, if the chase continues, that stress will turn to anxiety. This can lead to a dreadful loop of self-deprecation, drained energy and even depression.

 

From a place of grounded, centered presence, there is room to think, plan and prioritize. Anything becomes possible as you focus simply on what is and embrace what you want so fully that you really get to know it. There's actually enough room in that very moment, right there on the spot, to notice that you are actually right on time and don't have to get caught up at all!

 

So, I ask you, when you play catch-up, how does it feel? Where are you or have you been playing catch-up in your life? I'd love to hear from you on this.

Clear Vision: Building the Foundation for an Intact Ability to Love

I received an email from a dear friend the other day that I want to tell you about -- and in the spirit of honoring her request to share this with all that I know, I've included an excerpt from her note below. I'm so inspired by the depth and beauty of Robin Lim's vision that I'm submitting this as the first installment of the new Clear Vision segment of my newsletter, Walk The Talk. I'm boundlessly grateful to my friend Jenny for passing this along to me so I could share it with you here.

+++++

Hello Friends,

I recently returned from Bali, Indonesia, where I was serving pregnant, laboring and birthing women and their families.  I was volunteering at Yayasan Bumi Sehat--Healthy Mother Earth Foundation.  Guerrilla Midwife is an inspirational, educational, and award-winning documentary about the important work this foundation's and its founder, Ibu ("Mother") Robin Lim's, offer to the world-- providing gentle loving birth services, midwifery training, and direct aid in Indonesia and disaster areas.  Robin has recently been featured on CNN as one of their heroes.

Please come join us in seeing this beautiful film.  All proceeds will benefit Yayasan Bumi Sehat.  Please open your hearts and allow the seeds of Love to change you forever.
...
For more information:
www.bumisehatbali.org

or check out the info about the film Guerrilla Midwife
www.skwattacamp.com

Film Showings of Guerrilla Midwife to be held in Santa Cruz, CA (we will have DVD's available for sale also):
    Friday, May 13th, 7pm: Santa Cruz Waldorf School
    Friday, May 20th, 7:30pm: The Ugly Mug

Benefit Dance Class:  African-inspired with Debbie Nargi-Brown
    Thursday, May 19th, 6:30pm, The Louden Nelson Community Center

Please share with all that you know.  Bumi Sehat is truly an inspiring organization that is dedicated to the health of humanity and peace on the planet.

From my Heart,
Jenny
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I'd love to hear what this evokes in you. Whether you're called to action, left feeling a bit raw or somewhere in between, please take a moment and leave a comment. Let's continue the conversation...

I wish I knew more about...

M82: Images From Space Telescopes Produce Stunning View of Starburst Galaxy, Chandra X-ray Observatory

I wish I knew more about space. Like how much to allow myself to process something or to get something done just the way I want it to turn out. There always seems to be this sense of urgency, like I should already know or be well on my way or that it should have been done by now. Just how much space do I need to come fully present into myself, or for my coaching practice to fully manifest, or for me to put my aversion to conflict into action in a way that powerfully serves. How much space do I allow others to be in their stuff? How much do I participate in affecting the quality of the space? I get the sense that if I allow enough space for myself, for others, for that thing to manifest, then there becomes enough room for growth, for playful creativity, for messiness. Does it help if I name the space or give it a place to be found?

At the moment, it seems that the more I understand about the space that I allow (how much and other qualities that define it), the more room there is for me to grow and to support others in their own growth at the same time. It turns out that I need ALOT of space with just-right measures of interrelations in order to feel like I'm thriving. It helps me to keep in step with what I know while opening me up to take in what I don't yet know. This wish for knowing more about space is a tasty one indeed. I get to keep knowing more and there will still be more to learn.

I'm just coming out of a place of needing a tremendous amount of space and it seems to be that I'm not alone. Yet space is so, well, nebulous. I'm curious what allowing space means to you. What's at least one way that you allow yourself or someone else space? What are the qualities of that space?

Extreme Measures

This past week has been a roller coaster ride of sorts.

Not being much of one for amusement parks for their mass appeal evidenced by the crowded long lines, mediocre food, blatant displays of seemingly everything representing the opposite of mindful, sustainable practices that I so love and the sticky-dirtiness that abounds there, I remain intrigued by the rides themselves, particularly the roller coasters. There's something about them that appeals to my high sensation seeking self that's at the same time a blatant assault on my kinder, gentler sensibilities. The way I laugh despite being jostled and bumped and jolted, my parts flailing helplessly at the spastic movements of the monster machine. The way my cheeks cramp from the ridiculous perma-grin plastered across my face as the skin of my cheeks is flung back from the Gs. The way the tears stream from the sheer exposure, not to mention the wind that blasts into me. The way it all comes to a sudden halt and the way it takes me a while to find my sea legs. The extremeness of the entire experience.

There's something about the way I feel completely and helplessly out of control while willingly in the clutches of the roller coaster that feels oddly similar in a somatic sense to the way I've been riding life lately. It's as if I've been flying around on the scaly-hard back of an ethereal dragon, clutching its neck as I hold on for dear life all-the-while being forced to trust its skill in holding us airborne as we loop, dodge and soar. An extreme letting go of affecting any difference at all in the course of our flight or the prospect of a safe landing.

In the midst of the crises inflicting this world, I'm forced to let go. For me, this is self-care in its most extreme form. There's so much that's out of my control. Everything, really, when it comes down to it. Everything except my choices. I just have to be here with all I've got, even those clumsy, odd, and ugly-beastly parts of me and trust that my experience, ability to listen and feel deeply, and my courage to remain open-hearted and vulnerable will be enough.

This is how I choose to be engaged right now. Much as I sometimes fantasize about living in complete isolation, safely complacent and shut off from the pain and suffering, I'm finding that my energy is rising and my compassion is growing by letting myself feel all of this. ...and ultimately, it feels pretty amazing. I'm feeling more connected than ever. What about you? Have you experienced this twisting, churning, inside out turning ride? ...or perhaps you're standing in line waiting to climb on board, or maybe you're keeping yourself safely cushioned within your comfort zone far away from this threatening whorl of chaos, unknown and infinite possibility. Where are you in this wild ride of life and what's the view like from there?

Nothing like a little mass distruction to start the day.

I woke Friday morning to the sound of my favorite radio deejay's voice calmly advising that there would be a tsunami arriving at 8 and that I should check the news for details. Her message was brief, without substantiating details. My first groggy thought was, "Is it April 1st? Is she trying to fool us?" Quickly becoming alert, I convinced myself that, no, it was still March. So I went to the computer to see what I could learn. Little did I know then what a wake up call this was.

There had been a massive earthquake in Japan and the entire Pacific bowl was to be affected by a tsunami. I quickly gathered what information I could to first determine my own safety, then set out to get a better picture of the bigger story.

Family okay, check.
Others in my community okay, check.
Then I heard that schools were closed. I've heard of snow days, but tsunami days?!

I put two and two together, realizing that a couple of our local schools are shelter locations during events such as this and drove down to the local elementary school to see if I could lend a hand. A representative from the American Red Cross assured me that they had only about twenty evacuees and that they had plenty of support for that number of people. He suggested that how I could really help would be to become directly involved with disaster relief in my area. You see, said he, most of the volunteers had to come from miles away to support this morning's evacuation effort. Had this turned out to be a real large-scale disaster, one where people are not just temporarily displaced, but homes are destroyed, infrastructure is disrupted or damaged and all things are thrown into a shocking state of mayhem, he and they would not have been able to get here so easily, at least not without a helicopter. Seriously.

So that got me to thinking as I was listening to my fear shouting, "We've got to do something!" My fear fed by remembering all the criticism over how long it took FEMA to get clean water to the communities devastated by Hurricane Katrina, or the utter helplessness I feel when I hear, "what are they going to do about those over-heating nuclear reactors?" The hackles of idealism are going up along the ridge of my back as I type. Something's got to be done. Just who is this they anyway? It's really all about me, us, and we, when it comes down to it. Isn't it? The way I see it, having better and more local safeguards in place, including being personally prepared, is critical in ensuring that disaster victims are cared for quickly and effectively. No matter where you live, there's some real threat of something happening that can devastate your life, your family, your home, your community. Any of us could be a disaster victim. I know you need no convincing that the threat is real!

...and here I am all up in arms and at the same time full of anxiety over the sheer insignificance that I feel when I consider the size of the role that I alone play in all this. In the midst of knowing I'm safe and others are in sheer tumult. I've got to do something and I could be doing so much more. Taking a big, deep breath, there's a swell of relief that comes when I realize that I'm not alone, it is we who are at work here. ... and WE make a difference every time we increase our awareness and open our hearts toward others. We care, we can't help it. These small actions of compassionate listening empower us to know what to do in times like these by improving our ability to respond and to feel the significance of the profound ripple effect each of our efforts has on the healing of the whole.

I'm going to start small and work outward from there. I've decided I will engage in a conversation with my husband to come up with a disaster preparedness plan for our household, something we haven't done formally. I want to have a plan for what we'll do if disaster strikes and we're apart when it happens. ...and I want to have this plan in place by the end of this week. What if we can't reach each other by phone and panic begins to take hold? I know for us, having an agreement about what we'll do so that we can count on certain behavior from one another is key. I will start there. The Red Cross has all kinds of information about disaster preparedness and is a wonderful resource for you to find ways to help, too. I hope you'll join me in taking some actions this week to ensure that we're even more ready to protect ourselves and to care for each other when disaster strikes again. All I'm asking is that you decide to do something to prepare yourself just a bit better. Join me and develop a disaster preparedness plan for yourself. Are you in? Let me know what you decide by leaving a comment.