Here’s an 8-minute video from Felt Soul Media.
It is about a man and his dog. About companionship. About illness — cancer. About aging.
I found it, grounding this morning. It is beautifully made.
Human Making
I haven’t met Stephen Jenkinson. He is part of the Orphan Wisdom School. He is someone that two of my closest friends have now referred me to, independent of each other.
This six minute film by Ian MacKenzie is what was sent to me recently. It includes a few points that stand out to me this morning:
“Human making is all akin to learning.” This is the one that feels very familiar. I forget this sometimes. This morning was reminder.
His reference to deciding to “stop being somewhere else.” This one feels fresh and very helpful. It speaks a kind of accuracy about the angst that I often feel, and, I believe, that so many of us feel. Many of us are paying attention to what is next, or what is past, diverting attention from the way that all is present and available in the given moment.
The way to become human is to “kill the childhood.” This one is challenging. Wait, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to reclaim a childhood, right. In his language, it is about contributing to the life that is humanity, even if not to your individual life.
There is something in the tone of this movie that feels inviting.
I hope to meet this man, Stephen Jenkinson, some day.
Teamwork
I have so enjoyed the last two days working with my friends, Bob Stilger, Christy Lee-Engle, and Marc Parnes. Together we are planning an offering for a 9 month leaning cohort that will be focused particularly on the journey of returning to wholeness.
We all know each other. Bob and I go back 15 years to early work with Berkana. I’ve known Marc and Christy for about 10 years.
What I liked most about our time these past two days is how we worked together. An easy pace. Gentle timing. Reaching into the depths of our friendship. Trusting one another’s intuition.
Friendship makes planning easier. It is not separate from planning. It is not what you stop so that you can get to the “real work.” It is the foundation of planning. It is what precedes meaningful planning. It is what enables depth of inquiry into the purpose and potential that we are planning.
I look forward to what is next. Not fatigued from the last days, but rather inspired and grateful.
On Silence
The last two weeks I have been with family, choosing not to write.
It has meant that I’ve had a few more minutes of silence, particularly in the mornings.
I love this passage on silence, from Cheryl Sanders-Sardello from the book, Silence: The Mystery of Wholeness.
The enormity of life’s tasks weigh and press on the day. They demand and insist on a constancy of attention that is relentless. Ah, but we are fortunate to have night’s solace–in the silence that is created by the dark.
Night, that melancholy time, when the stars remind us of the silence of God. here we can remember the future, and lean into the unknown, setting aside the oppressive weight of our carefully constructed version of who we think we are, and release that side of the pool. We can remember how to see in the dark, with our ears, perceiving the silence in its holy echoing and resonance, its calling forth a knowing that is from the soul.
The silence sends us on a different pilgrimage. It guards the heart’s fire and teaches us to speak from within, with a language that is imbued with the sacred. Words thus nurtured in this holy silence fly forth with the wings of joy, and return to lead us back to the silence from which they were born.