June 2017
Don’t forget the Cornish cat. . .
The idea was –
the one I had the night before –
to pack a modest bag with
such essential things
I needed.
Water,
a copy of my calling,
biscuits, jam, blankets, hats,
the Bagdad Vita and a small head lamp.
I was off whistling but -
halfway down the road
I fell into a ditch
and was totally stuck.
until…
suddenly I remembered that
I had forgotten to feed the Cornish cat.
I dropped the bag, ran urgently back
and saw his worried little face.
I spent the day
tending to things -
I opened the shutters
and the rusted doors.
Later on You dropped in for tea.
Fiver.
So I know from experience as well as from wise teachers and books that the key to my happiness is keeping “me triumphant” (aka the ego) in check. Well - it sounds easy enough. Just a question of toning down the rhetoric, doing a bit of meditation, and then topping it off with some compassion exercises. Hmm… as anyone who has seriously tried to come to terms with the ego will tell you – it’s not easy at all. It's because there’s a paradox - the more one tries to engineer the outcome, the more distant the outcome becomes. Maddening!
The poem is about how the ego steps in and co-opts all our well-intentioned, ego-diminishing schemes. What happens is that one reads a book or listens to a podcast that offers an exciting set of time-tested, evidence-based techniques. Full of energy and good cheer, we set off on "The Path", take on new practices, stop eating potato chips – even wear special clothes as a mark of a new identity.
Oops! Demi-tour...
The word “identity” gives the game away. What’s happened is that the crafty ego, who never likes to be sidelined, has managed to sneak back into the driver’s seat. “Okay,” the ego says, “so femme fatale is out of style… no problem… now I’m a ‘spiritual seeker’. Cool.”
Femme fatale to spiritual seeker sounds like a step in the right direction but, in so far as ego-eminence is concerned, little has changed. I've still got an ego that needs to be seen as unique. I'm still searching for a me-affirming looking glass.
Oh - I should point out I'm not just talking about the spiritual call here. Whatever "ism" one chooses - environmentalism, capitalism, feminism, or aphorism - the rascal that is our ego can easily slip in the back door. And then what happens? Of course - the Cornish cat gets forgotten.
Nonetheless, it’s also true that mistakes – recognized ones - are part of the process. I mean – if one never sets out, there’s no falling in the ditch, no returning home to attend to those things that matter, and finally, no special visitors dropping by for tea!
January 2017
You. Fiver.
don’t lock air
in your chest
in case
you have to run away -
- from someone.
don’t push against
dead weights -
in case
you have to hit
- someone.
don’t learn
cutting words
in case
you have to diminish
- someone.
Trust the breath.
Like the eagle
on the canyon wind
is free.
is breath.
Trust the breath -
and be ready
to receive
these precious, beautiful words -
that have been given to you -
- to be born.
You. Please.
Help me trust -
enough
to be breath -
now.
Fiver
The poem is about the very great challenge of maintaining a generous and open heart in the face of aggression. It’s about the intense moment that occurs as we register that someone desires to do us harm. And it’s about the struggle to override the voices from all corners of our mind screaming, “Do something! Fire back with an insult. Defend yourself!”
So I know there are some who would say, “ Nothing really scares me. I’ve learned to roll with the punches.”
Really?!
That’s denial of the biggest order. The truth is that humans are hard-wired to fear anything that challenges their standing in the group. Yep. It may sound lame – but we have been conditioned to fear rejection as much as we fear being attacked by a lion. This is because, for a hunter-gatherer, to be alone meant ending up as someone’s dinner. Fast-forward to today with its jungle of systems and organizations. In our world, lions come in the form of evaluations, negative feedback, scorn, and derision – and physiologically our response is the same. Just as soon as you feel inclusion is uncertain - ZAP! - a message shoots express to the primitive brain, the involuntary autonomic stress reflex is triggered, and the body is thrown into a state of ready tension.
The stress reflex. No one is immune - not samurai warriors, not philosophers, not even canonized saints. Social conditioning may have given us the ability to override the impulse to fight or flee and, for sure, our intellects have registered our asymmetrical response - but this does not prevent our bodies from reacting. And while we are able to suppress the primal urge, over the long term our second choice - that is to go on defense – leaves us no better off.
How so?
The defenses are the ego’s personal security team. What Ego does is, as soon as it gets wind of an injurious situation, it calls up the Defenses. The Defenses - including denial, intellectualization, rationalization, projection - are a wily bunch who pose as guardian angels. In our vulnerable state we are quick to follow their directive - that is to climb into a (totally awkward) suit of armor and ready ourselves for the great counter-attack.
So – what’s wrong with defending ourselves?
Nothing. Defensiveness can help us survive in a rough and tumble world. But there are subtle and negative side effects. In so far as the physical body is concerned when we add a defense we add another layer of tension to that brought on by the stress reflex - and both are stored in the tissues of the body*. It doesn’t matter which defense we choose - whether we’ve puffed ourselves up to appear tough and self-confident, put on a sickly sweet smile and raised our eyebrows to the extent cosmetic enhancements allow, or just shrugged our shoulders and acted as if we don’t care – the energy flow shuts down. Furthermore, if we react defensively too frequently we get stuck in a tense, energy-blocked shape. Yep. Constant defensiveness turns people into caricatures of themselves. On the image level it's ironic. The way a defensive person carries himself - his "somatic shape" - betrays the very fear he is working so hard to conceal. And on personal level ingrained defensiveness render a person incapable of reacting in any other way. Over time, the tough lose the ability to express compassion, doormats can’t bring themselves to get up and knock on the door, blamers lose their independence and integrity, cynics lose the ability to experience wonder. As you can see, for any one wanting to live a full life - it's a high price to pay.
So what are we supposed to do? Trust the breath?
Yes. Exactly. It’s far more than a poetic notion. What we do at the exact moment we feel the stress reflex hit the nervous system matters a whole lot. It’s like – totally critical. What we absolutely must do is to keep the matter out of Ego's hands. How do we do this? First, it's essential we recognize the physiological basis of our predicament and that our intellect is of no earthly use. We have to meet the primitive with the primitive. Which means reconnecting with the breath. Why? It's because deep breathing activates the vagus nerve that runs from the heart and lungs to the brain and reverses the effects of the stress reflex. It does this by telling the brain to release tension-relieving chemicals like serotonin and oxytocin - chemicals that restore our ability to think clearly.
That sounds easy enough...
Shoot. Malheureusement there’s a hitch. A humility hitch. And, believe me, trusting the breath requires a big dose of it. Yep. We're essentially asking ourselves to let go of the notion that, all alone, our clever minds can get us out of this. Instead of relying on Ego and its debilitating band of defenses, we’re trusting that a better solution will appear out of thin air. It's what's called being in the present moment - the benefits of which, lamentably, we tend to see only in retrospect. Yeah... who doesn't sign on to the "theory" of being present? The trouble is - and this cannot be stressed enough - the "practice" of remaining present under pressure is a whole different ball game. In the face of aggression, taking that first deep breath, letting go, and allowing one's body to recover a relaxed, alert state can seem like the hardest things in the world.
Okay. Point taken - but it's time you pulled all this together.
What I'm saying is that anyone who wants to master the skill had better understand the nature of the beast. First off - and something many are loathe to acknowledge - is that they really do experience fear in the face of aggression. This is an obstacle for those who are scared of recognizing that they're scared. Second, it's important to recognize the strong instinctual and physiological impulses associated with that fear. Third, that the ingenious ego will make a very convincing argument for defensiveness. Fourth, that choosing to breathe and remain present is a skill that, in itself, takes a lot of practice. Finally, that humility and letting go are part of the program. We have to pass on the security that defensive armoring affords and have faith that radical openness will shine light on a better way.
Hmm... if that sounds like a bad deal - it probably is. However, I'm becoming more and more sure it's the better alternative. Here's the thing... as the years go by and the space between my vertebral discs diminishes the last thing I need is more dead weight. Quite clearly, clunking round town in a full suit of heavy metal armor is just not going to work for me!
* It could be that for some the idea that events and experiences are stored in the body is a new one. For more on this check out Bessel van der Kolk’s "The Body Keeps Score".
April 2016
Speaking of Changelings...
The Changeling
Even as time has clipped
back these silver wings
and a relentless pull
draws me to darkness –
what strange voice
calls now from within?
What mischievous seraph
has visited
the empty space left
by the I departed?
There's new life.
An infant changeling
is crying out its joy -
reaching up to me
with perfect hands
from deep inside.
Listen. Don't turn away.
It is the light bearer
that asks to be born.
Fiver
The poem is about mid-life and the curious things that happen around that time. I wrote it just after attending a conference called, “Aging into Possibility” that explored the experience of life after 50. The keynote speaker, Ashton Applewhite, (This Chair Rocks: A Manifesto Against Ageism), is a feisty, funny New Yorker on a crusade – namely to dismantle ageism. With Age Pride as her motto, Ashton says elders must push back against stereotyping and object vociferously whenever an elder (that could well be oneself) is addressed in a deprecating manner. She says elders must insist on respect.
Okay – the first thing that came up for me was a soupçon of guilt. You see – I’m not a sixties babe and while I greatly admire that generation’s readiness to receive overripe veggies and egg on their faces, I can’t bring myself to enlist. Yep. I’m reluctant. Which immediately led me to the question - what’s that about? Am I a disengaged free-rider? Hmm… because self-incrimination is an easy way out I decided to search for a soupçon of intelligence hidden behind my reserve. The question is -
How do I really feel about my middle-agedness?
Well – I soon detected a paradox. For sure my physical body is taking two steps forward and three back – but, at the same time, I most definitely feel that something new and rather wonderful is being born inside. Yeah – it’s weird. As well as being quite hard to describe. But I’ll try…
It’s joyful in a contained sort of a way. There’s excitement with less need to chase after it. There are mistakes, for sure - but far less associated consternation. There’s still sadness and hurt – without total derailment. And mercifully, at least some of the time, there’s evidence I’m developing a knack for steering clear of nettle patches!
Okay - that’s what I’ve got so far. But I’ve also realized that there are implications. This new life is far from grown up yet. I have a feeling that, if I want it to grow and flourish, I’ll have to nurture it. Oh jeez… I might even have to re-think priorities…
But we can’t get into changeling care here. We’re figuring out what to do about ageism. For sure activism and Age Pride have their place. However, I'm sure that focusing attention on what’s coming alive as opposed to what’s dying is more important. First off, it's because the young are not going to be touched by what they will doubtless perceive as a sorry band of axe-grinding has-beens . Second, it's because in my experience obliging the respect of others is an exercise in futility.
So here we have it. In spite of the near certain life disruption, I’ve decided to focus my energies on cherishing the new life I’ve been talking about. Mainly because it strikes me as a lot more fun. And coincidentally, I strongly suspect a changeling will bring more joy to others than “me, myself, and I” alone ever could.
November 2015
THE GREAT THEY vs MY BLANK PAGES
Your Blank Pages?
The Great Who?!
The Great They is the intrusion. It’s the large, amorphous, socio-cultural axiom-maker that stands between us and the creative work essential to realizing the noblest version of ourselves. At least for me, the GT makes itself known - a towering mountain of routine tasks - at the precise moment I sit down to face “my blank page”. Perhaps you know what I’m talking about... It’s the endless forms, the mailing lists and their management, and, for sure, the inbox-in-waiting. It announces itself with bells and whistles, pop-up ads, and helpful reminders. It barges in. Uninvited.
So how do we prevent the GT from getting in the way of the work that’s meaningful to us?
Well, make no mistake about it – the GT is a force ten with staunch and powerful allies. The major one, of course, is the faceless multitude – those who have sold out, have sworn allegiance and obedience. With a vested interest in GT dominion, this group is a task-inventing conglomerate – and, between you and me, I’m beginning to suspect that Steve Jobs was one of them.
In any case, the faceless multitude has traditionally formed the GT’s core support, but what’s also true is that, recently, Google & Co. has greatly expanded the GT’s scope, reach, and access. In the olden days, GT demands trickled in by snail mail - to be sorted and dealt with on Monday morning. Now, you carry the entire GT in the palm of your hand, meaning 50 times as many come in round the clock. I know – it makes you want to slam the laptop shut. But you don’t because, unless you are a lumberjack by profession, your blank page abides two tabs to the right – just past Amazon.com. Yep – there’s no escaping it. Google, gadgetry, and the GT have usurped any time we ever had for creative work. Sadly and simply, noblest version realization is an aspiration we reschedule for another life.
Oops. Demi-tour. Is that really true?
First question I must ask - what makes The Great They such a wildly successful organization?
It’s because, even as we profess a yearning for creative space, we are deeply, madly, obsessively in love with the GT. Not true? Think of it… no sooner do we face our blank page - that wide-open space where the extraordinary could happen - than we high tail it back to the predictable and the “satisfaction guarantee” of routine GT tasks.
Hmm… and how funny is that! At this very moment and as I write, that conflict is playing itself out. Here’s me -
What total rubbish! Where did you get the idea that this might be an interesting topic to write about? Waste of time, Fiver. And you have pressing things to do – like add faces, links, and up your soft dates. My recommendation - come back to this when you are in the appropriate mood…
Okay. Right now if, by navigating away, I abandon my blank page the noblest version takes a direct hit and I must see myself as the accomplice I am – a contributing, if reluctant, member of the organization I apparently love to hate.
Yes indeed. And, furthermore, what’s crystal clear is that the problem is not, as I would have myself believe, one of containing the GT. I have to be honest - the towering mountain is not the GT. It’s my own reluctance to abide in the implicit unpredictability of the creative endeavor. Either I carve out non-negotiable time for creative work or I opt for routine tasks marked with the GT’s “satisfaction guarantee”.
The truth is – the creativity option is always there. It’s not really the GT’s fault. It’s my shaky commitment. Not only am I accountable – but I know that every time I opt for ease and distraction, I strengthen the GT’s hold, not only over myself, but over everyone. Yes indeed. If I cast my vote for constant and mindless work I undermine the case for creative, meaningful work. So there we have it. The only legitimate response to the intrusion that is the GT is to embrace the vexing unpredictability of my blank page.
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Don't forget the Cornish cat...
The Idea
The idea was –
the one I had the night before –
to pack a modest bag with
such essential things
I needed.
Water,
a copy of my calling,
biscuits, jam, blankets, hats,
the Bagdad Vita and a small head lamp.
I was off whistling but -
halfway down the road
I fell into a ditch
and was totally stuck.
until…
suddenly I remembered that
I had forgotten to feed the Cornish cat.
I dropped the bag, ran urgently back
and saw his worried little face.
I spent the day
tending to things -
I opened the shutters
and the rusted doors.
Later on You dropped in for tea.
Fiver.
So I know from experience as well as from wise teachers and books that the key to my happiness is keeping “me triumphant” (aka the ego) in check. Well - it sounds easy enough. Just a question of toning down the rhetoric, doing a bit of meditation, and then topping it off with some compassion exercises. Hmm… as anyone who has seriously tried to come to terms with the ego will tell you – it’s not easy at all. It's because there’s a paradox - the more one tries to engineer the outcome, the more distant the outcome becomes. Maddening!
The poem is about how the ego steps in and co-opts all our well-intentioned, ego-diminishing schemes. What happens is that one reads a book or listens to a podcast that offers an exciting set of time-tested, evidence-based techniques. Full of energy and good cheer, we set off on "The Path", take on new practices, stop eating potato chips – even wear special clothes as a mark of a new identity.
Oops! Demi-tour...
The word “identity” gives the game away. What’s happened is that the crafty ego, who never likes to be sidelined, has managed to sneak back into the driver’s seat. “Okay,” the ego says, “so femme fatale is out of style… no problem… now I’m a ‘spiritual seeker’. Cool.”
Femme fatale to spiritual seeker sounds like a step in the right direction but, in so far as ego-eminence is concerned, little has changed. I've still got an ego that needs to be seen as unique. I'm still searching for a me-affirming looking glass.
Oh - I should point out I'm not just talking about the spiritual call here. Whatever "ism" one chooses - environmentalism, capitalism, feminism, or aphorism - the rascal that is our ego can easily slip in the back door. And then what happens? Of course - the Cornish cat gets forgotten.
Nonetheless, it’s also true that mistakes – recognized ones - are part of the process. I mean – if one never sets out, there’s no falling in the ditch, no returning home to attend to those things that matter, and finally, no special visitors dropping by for tea!
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Courage vs Generosity
Life takes courage.
Well, I’ve always thought so - but recently I’ve been wondering if we call on courage too hastily...
How so? First, I’ve observed a very fine line between courage and stupidity. I realize that when I summon courage, there's a good chance that stupidity might show up instead. Second, the mere mention of courage suggests that something formidable is about to happen – something to fear. While, for sure, there have and will be situations in life that require great courage, I’m facing nothing of that magnitude currently. It’s more like, as winter follows its course, a touch of despondency is making it hard to stick to mine.
Should I beat the drums and invoke the “life takes courage” call to action? No. For this I need something more consistent...
Something like GENEROSITY.
But not just the garden variety. Not just openhandedness or altruism. We're talking about something far bigger. More like a readiness to respond to all things with anunconditional outflow of energy. Unlike courage, it’s not a power surge to meet a particular challenge. Generosity is an orientation towards life - a way of being in the world.
To be generous in this way is to be in sync with the universe. Why? Becausegenerosity is the nature of the universe. Yep. Because we like to think we are in control we tend to overlook this - but the reality is that you, me, and the whole shebang - we are kept in motion solely by generosity. By a mysterious something’s infinite willingness to keep on bringing life forth.
Okay. It’s worth taking a moment to appreciate this. What’s clear is that the universe, unlike me, doesn’t drag its feet. It doesn’t complain about having to empty the dishwasher, organize its sock drawer, or about inclement weather. It doesn’t grab an analgesic, a pancake, or attribute its present situation to someone else’s spiteful interference. And – can you imagine what would happen if it decided to take a holiday?! Such an occurrence would instantly reduce you, me, and everyone else to inert lumps of flesh. Heavens! No… the good thing about the universe is that, through thick and thin, it just keeps on giving.
Okay – so it's clear that without this mysterious and ongoing generosity we would cease to exist - but how does knowing that help me in my day-to-day life?
Like this.
When I’m listless and want to shirk on my commitments, I can look outside myself and notice, once again, how nothing stops the flow of life. There’s no beating on drums or chests. No battle cries. Just an infinite willingness to keep on giving.So, if I want to be in sync with the universe, it follows that all I have to do is to surrender to the wellspring of generosity that a mysterious something put inside me. All I have to do is to keep on showing up wholeheartedly for the task at hand. There’s no need for theatrics. Just quietly keep on bringing life forth.
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Life by Post-it Notes: from the outside in
I do not believe in the post-it note approach to life. I don’t mean to be destructive or minimize the many ways post-it notes add value to our lives. They are perfect for keeping our chores on track - reminding us to buy milk, call the in-laws, etc. But relying on them to remind us of how we want to show up in the world is asking for trouble. Post-it notes, rules, constant reminders to be this or that, the endless self-talk – all start on the outside and try to work in – and that’s bound to fail. Here’s what happens…
First there’s a moment of absolute clarity. You’ve understood what your life is about and you can see exactly what you have to do. At that moment, your resolve is so great that you are impelled to act. You start a paleo diet, you organize your sock drawer, and even consider meditating. By the end of the day you are thrilled with “the new you”. Clearly, you say to yourself, it’s just a question of remembering what you did. You grab a pen and a stack of post-it notes and record the regime. The next day arrives and eagerly you gather all the post-it notes together and stick them on yourself – thinking that if they are thus stuck you won't forget to do the things that “the new you” does as a matter of course.
It doesn’t work. Why? Because it was your state of mind, body, and spirit that generated the “you” of yesterday. Words and language are empty shells without the right mind state to back them up. As soon as our precious egos are challenged the post-it notes wilt and fall away. Affirmations, admonishments, rules with punishments for non-adherence - however categorical – are no match for that which puts our identity in doubt. This is because the enlightened mind, that we presumed directed yesterday's activities, is also a superbly adept rationalizing machine. In a matter of seconds it convinces us that the post-it notes should be disregarded.
No - there's only one way to stay on track. We have to be able to manage our energy states. We have to be able to recognize triggers and how mind and body react to them. Then we have to have a well-rehearsed, even reflexive, centering technique that restores energy, a clear head, and the ability to act.
The assumption that we can control our lives is a dubious one from the get-go – but the notion that rules, resolutions, or dictums scrawled on post-it notes are helpful is utterly fantastic. No. Our interests are far better served by learning to stay in the moment, connected to what we care about, and the to trust our ability to make the right choices. If we could just nail that part, in all likelihood, the rest would follow.
So how do I know this?
I'm reminded... every day :-).It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.
Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.