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On Shadow — To Try

engaging-shadow

Last week at the first session of our series, The Inner and Outer of Evolutionary Leadership: Engaging Shadow, Kinde Nebeker offered a “To Try.” It was homework. It was practice. It was a call to attentiveness.

  1. Feel it.
  2. Be willing to explore if there is a kernel of truth in it.
  3. Follow clues, and feel it again, now for difference.

This is solid advice and practice that I’ve taken to heart myself in the last four days. And even though it is practice that feels familiar, there is something additionally powerful in being reminded. What’s happening for me is what Kinde and I invoked in the group — “you will get what you are willing to look for.”

It’s feeling like a lot. Mine is a kind of terror, mentally and emotionally, about a suppressed thought that I generally have preferred, unconsciously, to keep suppressed. That thought has even more power when connected to a few life experiences that were painful. It’s easy to see how the movie playing inside of me can become so rigid, fearful, and punishing.

As Kinde and I shared with others in the session, when working with shadow, there are some closely related landscapes. Trauma is one. Conflict is another (or at least a gateway in to shadow). Even sabotage. And, there are many important and related ways of working with these. Therapy and counseling come to mind. The Work of Byron Katie is another, that is so good an interrupting the movie.

Feel it — this is very much about being willing to stay, unprocessed as Kinde reminds me, in the feeling. The ickiness. The painfulness. The fearfulness. The immediate impulse to deny. My partner Teresa Posakony teaches that these are all responses of contraction, neurally entrained liked carved canyons in our minds and psyches, that activate our reptilian brains — the ones that know mostly flight or fight. She says, “the part of our brain that we need for such experiences is mostly offline because we default to contraction.” Stay in the feeling. The stickiness. The ache in the back of the neck. The ever so slight turning of the head away, as if we can look away, and avoid, making it disappear. We all do this — let’s not kid ourselves. This is a call for awareness and interruption, not perfection and denial.

Explore the kernel of truth — of the “it.” That nasty thought or feeling that we are trying to stay clear of. I love what my friend Caitlin Frost does with these kernels in her Work of Byron Katie. “It may be true, which can be freeing to realize. Just because it is true some of the time doesn’t make it true all of the time.” I find that the sharing of these embarrassing kernels can become such a humanizing process together. We get to recognize a widely shared experience, shifting it from a mythology of extremely isolated.

Follow clues — I love the way Kinde speaks of this as clues to liberation. It’s not court room testimony clues that we are looking for. It’s not proof and absolutism. Nor is it a mind game to convince us that everything is OK. It’s clues that unlock the hold that a blind spot, or a shadow-infused stress, or a trauma-impacted rigidity can have on us. The surprising (and yet not) thing is how many clues there typically are. It turns out the world is not colluding against us.

I’m grateful for this simple “To Try.” I’m excited to move our attention in the next session from this awareness of shadow in self to exploring how shadow becomes part of groups. And I continue to hope for an evolution of who we are as humans, and how we are together, in the needs of communities, large and small, that we claim as dear.

Lose Your Mind

bowen-forest

Ever wanted to lose your mind? I know, it sounds crazy. Cuckoo. In my family growing up, the phrase would have been “losing your marbles.”

At Soultime, Men’s Retreat last weekend, one part of the ritual that we created with each other was a time to be lost. Not a lot of time. For most it was a couple of minutes with eyes closed in the forest, and guided by another person who didn’t have eyes closed. It was safe. For me, I wanted it to be as long as possible. This symbolic act matched a part of the story we were engaging for the weekend, a story of people not being seen for their gifts, and thus getting lost.

Creating the ritual at Soultime is a choice. It’s never the same, which is part of what gives it life. It usually has four or five parts to it. It typically takes 1-2 hours to prepare, and 2-4 hours to do. It’s a time to not look at time. Just be in the ritual.

I didn’t know why I wanted to get lost last weekend. But it was clear, I really wanted it. It was the thing I most cared about when we were first imaging what might happen. I was hoping “lost” would last for a couple of hours, just that part of it. I felt a bit weird saying it out loud with the others, and in reflecting later. “I just wanted to be lost. I wanted the feeling.” Of course, a part of them was wondering what was up for me in this. I was too.

A few days later one of the key reasons for wanting to get lost became more clear for me. I wanted to lose my mind. I wanted to be in less thoughts. Less rational thinking. Less planning. More feeling. More freedom with time. More “stay here until we are done.” I wanted to give my rational mind, my speed and efficiency mind, a rest. Some time out. For me it meant sitting in the forest seen above.  I had good rain proof pants, a good coat, hat, gloves. It meant feeling the ground and the surroundings around me. The slender tree trunk, three inches in diameter that I would lean against for a moment, feeling it’s strength and anchoring. It meant feeling the moss under me, picking some of it, and smelling it. Feeling it in my fingers. It meant putting my forehead on the ground.

Not seeing evokes a very different presence in life. A paying attention to many other layers of sensation. Paying attention to intuition. Perhaps those are all some form of mind, sure. But they feel like a different part. I have full intent to keep my rational mind — it serves me very well. However, what became clear to me is that the experience of losing mind, getting lost a bit, can be quite a comforting thing. Like remembering an old friend.

Thanks to the Soultime men for the journey together.

Coming Into Relationship With That Creature In The Corner

Tomorrow Kinde Nebeker and I begin a three-session series on Engaging Shadow. Exploring shadow in self. Engaging shadow in groups. Evolving shadow in leadership. We will be a group of 12-14, meeting for three evenings, all within eight days total. The gift of some depth together in the month of December, which can often be lost to the pressures of commercialism.

With this series upon us, this means that the last couple of weeks for me have been about noticing the teachings I like to share and some of the exercises I’d like to create. There’s that one on projection — yah, that would be good. There’s that one on blind spots — yah, that would be good too. I like it best when design “arrives” to me. When it comes to me rather than me chasing it. Kinde is a good partner in this dynamic, encouraging it and calling that out in herself too.

My short list of first ideas quickly became a full whiteboard of smushed notes and inspirations. One of those inspirations was the simple image that helps me invoke and invite coming into relationship with shadow. Not fixing it. Not making it go away. Being in relationship with it. In my image, I’m in a large room, about 20 feet by 20 feet. It has thick, stone walls. It is underground, with only a tiny window through which daylight can shine. It is a dirt floor. In the corner of this room is a creature. In my image, it is a grand lion, a great cat. I can’t really ever see the lion, and for many years, haven’t even known that it was there. But now, I’m becoming aware of it. The lion is something I fear. Its presence is something I want to deny. The lion is both majestic and scary.

This series with Kinde and the others that will join is largely about coming into relationship with that creature, that lion in the corner. Coming to know that it is there. Coming to know more about what awakens that lion. Coming to learn a bit about approaching it, or welcoming it to approach me. Maybe coming to laugh with it a bit, and learn to scratch it’s ears in delight. This series is about all of that with something powerful, yet largely unseen. It may take more than three evenings, that’s true, but most good, essential things do, don’t they.

 

Irresistible

yurt-in-snow

This image is irresistible to me. I snapped it on my phone two days ago.

The place is Bowen Island, where there is rarely snow. More specifically, through these snow covered trees, is a yurt at Brian Hoover’s property. The framed structure is entry. The yurt itself, behind the entry, is 20 feet in diameter.

The context at one layer is, the beauty of winter. Winter Wonderland. Trees draped in snow. Cold, crisp air. Soft padding feet on fresh snow. I am grateful that I have many experiences of winter beauty. It helps to have snow pants, a good coat, gloves, and a snow hat to cover your ears.

The context at another layer is men’s retreat. That yurt, and that land, held 11 of us in song, dance, story, dialogue, and silence for three days spread over four. Men sharing wonder. And wounds. And beauty. And jokes. And shadows. And fears. And creating ritual.

That too, is wonderland. That too, is irresistible.

Gifts of Circle - Question Cardsasd
Gifts of Circle is 30 short essays divided into 4 sections: 1) Circle's Bigger Purpose, 2) Circle's Practice, 3) Circle's First Requirements, and 4) Circle's Possibility for Men. From the Introduction: "Circle is what I turn to in the most comprehensive stories I know -- the stories of human beings trying to be kind and aware together, trying to make a difference in varied causes for which we need to go well together. Circle is also what I turn to in the most immediate needs that live right in front of me and in front of most of us -- sharing dreams and difficulties, exploring conflicts and coherences. Circle is what I turn to. Circle is what turns us to each other."

Question Cards is an accompanying tool to Gifts of Circle. Each card (34) offers a quote from the corresponding chapter in the book, followed by sample questions to grow your Circle hosting skills and to create connection, courage, and compassionate action among groups you host in Circle.

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In My Nature
is a collection of 10 poems. From A Note of Beginning: "This collection of poems arises from the many conversations I've been having about nature. Nature as guide. Nature as wild. Nature as organized. I remain a human being that so appreciates a curious nature in people. That so appreciates questions that pick fruit from inner being, that gather insights and intuitions to a basket, and then brings the to table to be enjoyed and shared over the next week."

This set of Note Cards (8 cards + envelopes)  quotes a few favorite passages from poems in In My Nature. I offer them as inspiration. And leave room for you to write personal notes.

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Most Mornings is a collection of 37 poems. I loved writing them. From the introduction: "This collection of poems comes from some of my sense-making that so often happens in the morning, nurtured by overnight sleep. The poems sample practices. They sample learnings. They sample insights and discoveries. They sample dilemmas and concerns."

This set of Note Cards (8 cards + envelopes)  quotes a few favorite passages from poems in Most Mornings. I offer them as inspiration. And leave room for you to write personal notes.

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