Meaning Making Creatures; Meaning Projecting Machines

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QT, the gathering I cohosted on the weekend with Quanita Roberson, is largely about the simple process of being curious together. I like it that it is that simple.

The stuff we invited people to be curious about is that which has their attention. That’s pretty simple too. Sometimes, quite literally, attentions like those harvested in the photo above. A wall of post-it notes, in this case seven per person, with the freedom to respond at any layer. Thanksgiving — great. The Bengals football game — great. Racism and presidential politics — great. There are no wrong answers in “what has your attention?”

Sometimes, the “attentions” were accessed through dreams. We started the day by inviting people to share their dreams — with awareness that the dream might just be for, or connected, to the group. The subconscious works that way, right. We didn’t process the dreams therapeutically or with imposed objective definition. We simply used them as sets of symbols upon which we could individually project meaning. “If that were my dream, my detail would be the van driving to Columbus.” Then from there, to say just a bit about why that symbol stands out and has personal meaning, for example, “I relate to being lost.”

It’s a beautiful process. And this time, it taught me something further. We, we humans, are meaning making creatures. We can’t help but do it. Our brains, hearts, and bellies can’t help but make associations through connecting experience and ideas. Yes, there’s a whole pile of that that happens subconsciously. But we can’t help it. It’s as natural as blinking. Or smelling. Or our heartbeats.

But also, we, we humans, are meaning projecting machines. And my machines, I mean extremely productive. Prolific. Mass produced. Sometimes running amuck. Projection, the phenomenon of attributing (or piling on / heavily imposing) meaning in someone else’s behavior that comes from the projector, not the projectee. This one takes discipline to realize that we are doing it, which of course is at the heart of shadow work.

The former, meaning-making, is part of being human. The latter, meaning projecting, is part of learning to become more human, more aware, and more awake.

I’m grateful for a weekend of fantastic meaning making together, to all of the group in Cincinnati. And to the men in particular, for those 25 minutes in the kitchen of sense making and evolving the edges of healthy masculinity.

Home Again, Soon

I’ve been away now for 15 days from my comfy little home in Utah. From my kids. From my dog. From the kale that was still growing splendidly in my garden.

I’ll return tomorrow, filled up with experience and teachings from three locations during that 15 days. From Seattle, time with Teresa where we continue to dive (sometimes a bit cautiously) into the depth of what it means to be in partnership and relationship together. From Bowen Island, time with Chris, Caitlin, Amanda, Teresa and 50 really wonderful participants. There is nothing quite like finding a good, open, playful learning together. From Cincinnati, where Quanita and I hosted our third QT gathering, this time for 13 of us. I love the simplicity of premise in QT — humans being curious together in the most simple, yet often impactful ways.

I’m tired. A bit hesitant to say it out loud. But it’s true. Even good things can be tiring. It’s giving full attention to self and other. I’m grateful to be moved by others. Welcomed. Appreciated. And, what I continue to learn is that even in all of that, rest matters. The space of “off.”

So to Utah I come tomorrow. With a rather large todo list of catching up. But also, to the space of playing with Elijah, walking Shadow, and seeing what remains of my kale. To cooking for Thanksgiving. Maybe watching a movie, having myself been re-storied into another layer of companioning. And for some time to write, from a more still and quiet place.

For all of that, I give thanks.

Bowen Island Art of Hosting, Last Day

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Endings matter. Closings to events and trainings matter, though I like the way that one participant spoke this appreciatively — “it was less training; it was more tribing.”

A team of four of us created a closing to this Art of Hosting that included poetry, remembrances (written on the colored circular paper that you see in the middle of this photo — each wrote, placed them in the shape of the salmon at the center of the room, and then was invited to take one home written by another). Then an expression of gratitude from each, song, a collective blowing out the candle. And then great hugs.

Just enough ceremony to seal the time together. Not with more information. Just with feeling.

With gratitude to this group and the time together, in one of my favorite places in the world, and cohosting team, Chris Corrigan, Caitlin Frost, Teresa Posakony, and Amanda Fenton.