I found an article by Meg Wheatley in the Field Notes from the Shambhala Institute for Authentic Leadership - Sept/Oct 2006 that gave me some pause - some breathtaking awakenings. Meg Wheatley always moves my head and heart forward together just a little bit further than I expected to go when I start out with her; which is the reason I walk through her writing whenever I can.
In her writing - she asks eight questions about Fearlessness, and elaborates on each question, suggesting each question needs a bit of contemplative time to really grasp the depth and breadth of its implications.
Here are the questions and some of my reflections...
1. Do we call ourselves by the titles big enough to represent our life's work and which demand fearlessness in this world? I am more than a specialist, a writer, lesbian, a middle aged woman, a victim of sexual assault. I am a Tiger, for it is better to be a tiger for one day than a sheep for a 1000 years. At least so I've read. Instead I will take on the titles of Chief Executive Officer in Charge of Canes, Ropes and Falcons, the Vice President of Magazines and Scarves, Fondler of Music and Singer of Gospel. As well, consider me Chief Custodian of Art Supplies, Field Commander of Mixed Bowls and Issuer of Poetic Licences, Puns, and Ironic Twists, an Initiate in Crossword Puzzling and Scrabbling, and a Master of Rummy.
2. What is there to fear about fear? For one thing, fear is a good signal of when things might be going wrong - a signal from your intuition, your gut to "watch out!". I personally feel fearless about most things. But when my skin crawls and my gut says "Oh, oh!," I get outta there tout suite. I like fear and all it tells me.
3. Does the world need us to be fearless? A resounding "No" vote from me is registered. In fact, I think the world needs us each to have more fear - act more cautiously about many things. The one thing of which I am not fearful is my death, because it is inevitable. But the death of the earth, ecosystems, species extinction, habitat degradation, cultural annilihation, the loss of languages, monocultural monotony, genetic patents, and other influences moving through the world - all these things I fear and tremble at, I rage at, I nightmare about. Where can we turn for hope?
4. What if we cannot save the world? How can we do our work without hope that we will succeed? I need to accept that work I do will likely yield no results in my lifetime - this is VERY HARD for me, that I may be doing something useless or worthless. But if I work on my relationships, enjoy my life in relationships - then maybe loving and being loved is enough. Maybe that is all that matters - all that will save the world - is Love. Producing another "it" is not the way to nirvana.
5. What is it like to live in the future now? I live as much as possible in the present - in the moment of Now. Past, present, future and Now. The four time periods which we can name. My time period is Now. Is the "future now" a place of wondering about what's next? what now? so what? why me? Depending on the particular moment, such questions do arise for me. But for the most part - I dwell in the relationship of me to myself and the world and my friends, and wonder about love. Especially Now - the Solstice approaches - nights are longer - and with the subsequent return of the sun after Solstice; I know now I feel the effects of gray days on my spirit.
6. Why do we imprison ourselves? Why are we so afraid? Nadine Gordimer's Massey Lecture some years ago, "Prisons We Chose to Live Inside", dealt with this same theme. Instead of moving out in the world and voicing our complaints, telling truth to power, people seem to retreat into private shelters of silence, carapaces of hollow, empty hunger for human contact.
I know I am a hermit - but not always a silent one. I am a trouble maker and a shift disturber, well known, even with a tainted reputation. Tainted by a measure of social justice - which makes it difficult to move from place to place within my agency. Nevertheless - I would not have it another way.
Why are people afraid, hiding, silent? My guess is that perhaps the price is too high to pay for them to speak up, speak out, to say what they think, what they feel. And there is no accepted process for actual conversation anymore. Social conversation is email, blackberry, contact - not face to face. Fear of in-your-face is too great. Stakes are too high and the skills to manage actual conversation are being lost. And it's because no one wants to practise - and those with the power are fine with that - keep the conversation down - manage the cube farms to silence them. Sadness, sorrow, rage and wrath..., simmering just below the surface. No one talks except on the surface. No social spaces are left. We go home at the end of day - separated again; isolated and alone, again; imprisoned; quieted.
Not me.
7. Can we work beyond hope and fear? Can we find a way to be motivated and happy, energetic, to take delight in work not based on outcomes, that does not need a particular result?
Meg suggests that work be offered as a gift of love to the cause we are impassioned about. A grand idea. If only those who take the work treated it as a gift and respected it in such a way. The heart wishes for work to be accepted with such grace and will strive to be open to this concept. I look forward to the time that editing, consultation and derisive remarks are set aside as the gift of work is looked upon more favourably.
8. What would it take for us to just deal with what is? To not need to be always engaged in changing the world? How far back would I have to step to rest? To just BE, and not think about the last story I read that tickled me, ticked me off or made me laugh is challenging these days, as I somedays want to shake my fist, wag my finger or pull my hair out.
I am human. I am woman, see me roar. --- I hear music ---Helen Reddy. Let it be, let it be, let it be... oops, that's the Beatles now. How I wish music could soothe savage breasts - maybe we could play more music and have less to fear, more to hope for.
And to sum it all up - this seems like an appropriate sentiment:
Brainscrambling - A poem: by Rob Brezny @ Free Will Astrology: August 2-06
I think that's all from me this evening. No fear. I shall return.
In her writing - she asks eight questions about Fearlessness, and elaborates on each question, suggesting each question needs a bit of contemplative time to really grasp the depth and breadth of its implications.
Here are the questions and some of my reflections...
1. Do we call ourselves by the titles big enough to represent our life's work and which demand fearlessness in this world? I am more than a specialist, a writer, lesbian, a middle aged woman, a victim of sexual assault. I am a Tiger, for it is better to be a tiger for one day than a sheep for a 1000 years. At least so I've read. Instead I will take on the titles of Chief Executive Officer in Charge of Canes, Ropes and Falcons, the Vice President of Magazines and Scarves, Fondler of Music and Singer of Gospel. As well, consider me Chief Custodian of Art Supplies, Field Commander of Mixed Bowls and Issuer of Poetic Licences, Puns, and Ironic Twists, an Initiate in Crossword Puzzling and Scrabbling, and a Master of Rummy.
2. What is there to fear about fear? For one thing, fear is a good signal of when things might be going wrong - a signal from your intuition, your gut to "watch out!". I personally feel fearless about most things. But when my skin crawls and my gut says "Oh, oh!," I get outta there tout suite. I like fear and all it tells me.
3. Does the world need us to be fearless? A resounding "No" vote from me is registered. In fact, I think the world needs us each to have more fear - act more cautiously about many things. The one thing of which I am not fearful is my death, because it is inevitable. But the death of the earth, ecosystems, species extinction, habitat degradation, cultural annilihation, the loss of languages, monocultural monotony, genetic patents, and other influences moving through the world - all these things I fear and tremble at, I rage at, I nightmare about. Where can we turn for hope?
4. What if we cannot save the world? How can we do our work without hope that we will succeed? I need to accept that work I do will likely yield no results in my lifetime - this is VERY HARD for me, that I may be doing something useless or worthless. But if I work on my relationships, enjoy my life in relationships - then maybe loving and being loved is enough. Maybe that is all that matters - all that will save the world - is Love. Producing another "it" is not the way to nirvana.
5. What is it like to live in the future now? I live as much as possible in the present - in the moment of Now. Past, present, future and Now. The four time periods which we can name. My time period is Now. Is the "future now" a place of wondering about what's next? what now? so what? why me? Depending on the particular moment, such questions do arise for me. But for the most part - I dwell in the relationship of me to myself and the world and my friends, and wonder about love. Especially Now - the Solstice approaches - nights are longer - and with the subsequent return of the sun after Solstice; I know now I feel the effects of gray days on my spirit.
6. Why do we imprison ourselves? Why are we so afraid? Nadine Gordimer's Massey Lecture some years ago, "Prisons We Chose to Live Inside", dealt with this same theme. Instead of moving out in the world and voicing our complaints, telling truth to power, people seem to retreat into private shelters of silence, carapaces of hollow, empty hunger for human contact.
I know I am a hermit - but not always a silent one. I am a trouble maker and a shift disturber, well known, even with a tainted reputation. Tainted by a measure of social justice - which makes it difficult to move from place to place within my agency. Nevertheless - I would not have it another way.
Why are people afraid, hiding, silent? My guess is that perhaps the price is too high to pay for them to speak up, speak out, to say what they think, what they feel. And there is no accepted process for actual conversation anymore. Social conversation is email, blackberry, contact - not face to face. Fear of in-your-face is too great. Stakes are too high and the skills to manage actual conversation are being lost. And it's because no one wants to practise - and those with the power are fine with that - keep the conversation down - manage the cube farms to silence them. Sadness, sorrow, rage and wrath..., simmering just below the surface. No one talks except on the surface. No social spaces are left. We go home at the end of day - separated again; isolated and alone, again; imprisoned; quieted.
Not me.
7. Can we work beyond hope and fear? Can we find a way to be motivated and happy, energetic, to take delight in work not based on outcomes, that does not need a particular result?
Meg suggests that work be offered as a gift of love to the cause we are impassioned about. A grand idea. If only those who take the work treated it as a gift and respected it in such a way. The heart wishes for work to be accepted with such grace and will strive to be open to this concept. I look forward to the time that editing, consultation and derisive remarks are set aside as the gift of work is looked upon more favourably.
8. What would it take for us to just deal with what is? To not need to be always engaged in changing the world? How far back would I have to step to rest? To just BE, and not think about the last story I read that tickled me, ticked me off or made me laugh is challenging these days, as I somedays want to shake my fist, wag my finger or pull my hair out.
I am human. I am woman, see me roar. --- I hear music ---Helen Reddy. Let it be, let it be, let it be... oops, that's the Beatles now. How I wish music could soothe savage breasts - maybe we could play more music and have less to fear, more to hope for.
And to sum it all up - this seems like an appropriate sentiment:
Brainscrambling - A poem: by Rob Brezny @ Free Will Astrology: August 2-06
I kick my own ass and wash my own brain.
I push my own buttons and trick my own pain.
I burn my own flags and roast my own heroes.
I mock my own fears and cheer my own zeroes.
Nothing can stop me from teasing my shadow.
I'm full of empty and backwards bravado.
My wounds are tattoos that reveal my true beauty.
I turn tragic to magic and make bliss my duty.
I honor my faults till they become virtues.
I play jokes on my nightmares till I'm sure they won't hurt you.
I sing anarchist lullabies to lesbian trees
and love songs with punch lines to anonymous seas.
I won't accept gifts that infringe on my freedom
I shun sacred places that stir up my boredom.
I change my name daily, pretend to be nobody.
I fight for the truth if it's majestically rowdy.
Gravity fucks me and I fuck it back.
The sun is my sex slave, the moon smokes my crack.
I pump up my conscience with idiot laughter.
I'm living happily, in love ever after.
I brag about what I can't do and don't know.
I take off my clothes to those I oppose.
I'm so far beyond lazy, I work like a god.
I'm totally crazy; in fact that's my job.
I think that's all from me this evening. No fear. I shall return.
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