Category: General Learning

Though the poem below  is entitled “Walk Slowly,” the last ten days have ran very quickly for me. Much of that was being with my mates preparing and offering The Art of Hosting on Bowen Island, a small but beautiful section of it shown in this photo.

The next two weeks will also be full with upcoming events. I know during these times that my attention is on the events — it means I don’t blog in the rhythm of Monday – Thursday that I have been practicing.

So, for now, I love this poem, used during a circle on the second day at Bowen. To close a very well hosted set of simultaneous circles in groups of eight.

 

Walk Slowly
Danna Faulds

It only takes a reminder to breathe,
a moment to be still, and just like that,
something in me settles, softens, makes
space for imperfection. The harsh voice
of judgement drops to a whisper and I
remember again that life isn’t a relay
race; that we all will cross the finish
line; that waking up to life is what we
were born for. As many times as I
forget, to catch myself charging forward
without even knowing where I am going,
that many times I can make the choice
to stop, to breathe, and be, and walk
slowly in the mystery.

Remember the animated film, Dumbo? I do. I remember watching it on TV as a kid. I was probably snuggled in on the couch with my parents, my sister, and likely our dog named Boo. I also remember watching Dumbo with my kids. Particularly my two oldest, who are now 19 and 17 respectively. Again snuggled in on a couch. Dumbo with his giant ears. The other elephants made fun of him. Dumbo was sad. It turns out Dumbo, the mean nickname that the others gave him replacing Jumbo Jr., could fly. That film came out in 1941, 74 years ago, which kind of wows me.

As I remember, Dumbo’s mouse friend Timothy gives Dumbo a feather and proclaims it to be magic. He gives it to Dumbo when Dumbo is doubting his ability to fly. The short of it is that it works. Dumbo believes it. Flies. Is shocked and afraid to fly without the feather. Gets over that fear. Saves his mom. Even acts out a bit of revenge shooting peanuts at the mean elephants. Earns the respect of the other elephants and animals.

One of the aspects that I remember from the movie, and that wows me still today, was Dumbo’s magic feather. The feather was what I would call a talisman. Some might relate to it as a good-luck charm. Regardless, the talisman is enough to convince Dumbo of an ability that he already has. He can fly with those big ears. He just doest fully know it in himself. The talisman convinces him of an internal, inherent ability. It is a kind of placebo.

These kind of talismans are very much a part of my life. If not to improve an ability, to hold a memory just a bit closer than it would otherwise be. I often carry a small stone in my pocket to remind me of a person, or sometimes a place. One from a coastline on Whidbey Island in the US Northwest reminds me of powerful meetings that I’ve had with colleagues on that island. The stone brings back the feeling of friendship, colleagueship, and soulful collaboration — and invokes it in the present moment. Another talisman, also a stone, is from Greece. It reminds me of the Dad / Daughter trip I took two years ago with my now 19 year-old daughter. That stone brings back the Kastri Beach in a heartbeat, the feel of the sun, the beauty of the water, and the deep love I feel for adventure with my daughter. It brings family and adventure into the present.

Talismans like this may be made up, creating an attractive make-believe — that is one purpose. Yet they still invoke an emotional state. Arguably a alternative time reality, a kind of transportation to that physical time. Talismans bend time. They can bend reality also, which, in the end, perhaps is meant to be bent.

All of this from Dumbo and his friend Timothy. More later.

Last night Teresa Posakony and I hosted ourselves and a group of seven friends in a Flow Game. The Flow Game is a board game that uses questions, inquiry, and story telling to create, well, flow. I think of playing it as a way to connect to more of ourselves individually (clarifying insights), to the group (exploring potential choices, particularly when playing for the same purpose), and to life itself (the seen and unseen energies of people and places on this earth). The Flow Game invokes layers of symbolic systems, including the four directions with animal totems — east (vision, eagle), south (community, mouse), west (action, bear), and north (leadership, elk). It includes sets of cards also for heaven (what is above) and earth (what is below).

Our evening was simple. Shared appetizers which all brought. A bit of wine. A shift to the flow game itself — an introduction and some history that for me connects back to Toke Moeller and Monica Nissen, a round of a question for each person (5-6 minutes), a speed round (popcorn responses to a shared question), a check-out, and hugs.

I live my life as questions. Sometimes, arguably to a fault. I relate more to the energy found in inquiry and exploration together. And, having said that, rarely do I find that difficult to translate to next steps, next todos, etc.

I am grateful for these friends and colleagues and for evenings that feel so purposefully easy.

Heather Plett is one of those people that I feel I know, yet have never met. A Facebook post here and there. A fellow practitioner of The Circle Way. A fellow practitioner through the Art of Hosting.

I appreciate Heather’s words below, what came from her silence after a sweat lodge.

Last weekend I had a profound (and difficult) experience in a sweat lodge. Afterwards I had to spend a few days in silence, because there weren’t really words to process it. When I did sit down to write though, the following was the first thing to emerge. I thought I’d share it on this list, because I believe this is the work that many of us as hosts are being called to.