Category: Edited

This was the name of a workshop hosted this weekend in open space format. It was offered by my new friend Skye Lachute. Amidst a group of primarily naturopathic doctoral students at Bastyr University, invited by my friend and colleague Christy Lee-Engel. I love this kind of question. For its depth. And because I relate to it as one hosting groups of people in varied settings. In the end, I feel it is about health, wholeness, wellness, consciousness, and resonance.

I learned several things as I participated in this group. A few of those key points are below. Worth some consideration for those of us leading groups of all kinds.

* Until the healer can heal self, healing can’t be offered to others. I don’t fully agree with this one, but like what is underneath it. This was a theme that came up often with this group. Kindness to self. Tending to self. I have found I appreciate a bit more freedom in this when I think of it as commitment to practice of being well with self. Less perfection. Less waiting for that ultimate day that really doesn’t exist. More gentleness to be in practice with self and others.

* Your medicine is for others. This is actually a reflection back to working on a few projects with Navajo leaders and community members in health related professions. I felt very moved then, in 2008 and 2009, to be thanked by the elders for bringing our medicine. The medicine was our teachings. Our presence. Our facilitation. It is flattering and powerful for me to think of it this way. And in some way grounding to carry the narrative of offering it to others.

* Once deep it is hard to go shallow, just as it was initially to go from shallow to deep the first times. These were expressions about purpose. About living true to ones inner voice and impulse. About self-authoring. It is also a statement of compassion for the many levels of learning in self and others.

* “No gardener ever built a rose.” This was offered by a participant, Seth, that I appreciated. It was offered in the context of distinguishing and discerning what one can do, and give energy to, and what one can’t do, and choose not to give energy too. I also love that this is a principle deeply embedded in the naturopathic discipline. The principle of treatment is to restore the natural capability in one’s body. Western, allopathic medicine tends toward fixes through pills and linear thinking. At Bastyr the thinking is more holistic and systemic.

Thank you new friends and colleagues at Bastyr.

A few photos from the event are here.

One last poem from a book loaned to me by my friend Carla Kelley. Anything that includes reference to death as, “I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?” has my appreciation. That, and, “When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement.” This kind or writing inspires me to a different presence in my work and life.

When Death Comes
by Mary Oliver

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

• Inspiring video on creativity and freedom. From Sue Austin, deep sea diving in a wheelchair. http://bit.ly/Xezdvn 
• #aohmpls2012 Sue: How lively life is when comfortable with not knowing.
• #aohmpls2012 Bob-E: AoH is a profound way to enlarge your sense of self.
• #aohmpls2012 Enjoying the expansiveness of reflective listening through story hosted by Jerry, Kathy, Myron.
• http://yfrog.com/esvwvztj  friends gathering I design and play. #aohmpls2012
• A new friend I’ve met, Joan Blades, doing impressive work with conversations and families: http://bit.ly/I9EP7N 
• If you’ve been moved by Circle as process method, please consider the Legacy Project in your holiday giving: http://bit.ly/12cJjBI 
• I’m renewing attention to what began for me 15 years ago. Ann Linnea of PeerSpirit describing some of that: http://youtu.be/jVy7ea4SeFw 
• Design today for Art of Convening in Faith Based Communities. Like us here for some harvests: http://on.fb.me/OociyD . And more at #aohfbc.
• A great publication, Yes Magazine. This issue — What Would Nature Do? http://bit.ly/QuKXgq 
• We are 47 for The Artistry of Convening Within Faith-Based Communities. Like us on FB for a few updates. http://on.fb.me/OociyD 
• Please explore / support my friend Carla Moquin’s launch, Babies in Business Solutions (BIBS). Imaginative work. http://bit.ly/QuHKxb 
• Inspiring public engagement work in Halifax, Nova Scotia that friend Tim Merry is a part of. http://bit.ly/Z5MlpE 
• 5 spots remaining for Artistry of Convening Within Faith Based Communities. We’ll explore the sacred and the skills. http://bit.ly/SAJBex 
• From Bob Wing. “Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is knowing it doesn’t belong in a fruit salad.”
• And added to by friend Nana Dunn: Sacred is released in relationship and connection.
• A learning for me this week, voiced by new friend Dan of the Episcopalian tradition: Sacred is released in relationship.
• Great video from Jerry Nagel and others in Minnesota using that Art of Hosting pattern to help in their communities: http://bit.ly/SIPGcl 

It is a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye. I read it from Roger Housden’s book, ten poems to last a lifetime. I love his commentary:

“There comes a time when you have to decide what kind of life you are going to live. Will you live by the dictates of your social persona, or by the softer, more genuine voice that you hear sometimes in the twilight, or before falling asleep? Both have a place, but there are times when the latter must be followed, whatever the cost, if something precious in you is not to die.”

The Art of Disappearing

When they say Don’t I know you?
say no.

When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.

Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say We should get together
say Why?

It’s not that you don’t love them anymore.
You’re trying to remember something
too important to forget.

Trees. The monastery bell at twighlight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven’t seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don’t start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.