Volume 29 ~ Honor (A Valentine's Gift that Lasts a Lifetime

The table’s set for two, the candles are lit, and the Valentine’s card is opened … now what? Couples will take time out to affirm their love next month, and that’s wonderful. But what do they say after they say “I love you”?

Back in day-to-day life, where promises and hopes meet the pressures of reality, how can people strengthen their love? How can they take it to the next level?

Taking it to the next level isn’t sexual, or even romantic per se -- it’s deepening the emotional intimacy. 

Then, when couples feel closer and more connected, sexuality and romance can blossom.

Deepening intimacy is less about what we say than about how we listen. The Maoris of New Zealand greet each other by saying, ‘I see you.’ That, in a nutshell, is the art of listening.

When partners feel seen, when they’re heard and understood, their bonds strengthen. Listening -- a simple concept, not always easy.

Really listening is an art -- the art of inviting another person to open their soul, and then holding them with care as they do it.

This art has been named “Spiritual Companioning” by one of its masters.

I will be sharing it with couples (and individuals) later this month in both a one-day workshop for couples and a four-week tele-seminar.  Companioning -- or "deep listening," as I often call it -- is a way of focusing on the other person, with both compassion and detachment. It helps them get to the heart of what they’re feeling and find their own inner truth.

Ironically, deep listening can be most challenging with those we hold dearest. But it’s worth the effort. It’s the royal road to true intimacy. It’s easy to start using, and it shifts and deepens your connection at once. Over the long haul, it’s deep intimacy that holds a relationship together.

Listening is one of the most powerful ways that we can honor one another.

What role does honor play in relation to those who are not in touch with their own honor, at best,  or who actively dishonor others at worst?  How can we honor ourselves when another seeks to  hurt us or put us down?

I planned to write about honor specifically in intimate relationships, and how crucial it is that we really see and hear one another's truth in order to build healthy,  nurturing relationships.  After all, a healthy relationship can only be based on honoring each person's truth -- and the only person who knows the full truth about us, is us.  (Though others who know and love us can give us helpful feedback.)

 Last night, a phone call reminded me that it takes two people to have an honorable exchange.   During the call, I was unexpectedly lambasted in  a way that was anything but honoring of me as a human being, by someone who was obviously in a lot of pain and denial.  This person had a lot of  misguided judgments and opinions about me -- and, unfortunately, very little knowledge of me as a person and even less curiosity.   When I attempted to set boundaries around the assault, calling for reason and courtesy, I was yelled at, shamed and mocked.  After about 15 minutes of this treatment, realizing that I was being abused, I ended the conversation firmly.

I slept very little.  This individual is not someone I have chosen to participate in my life, but rubs shoulders with me because of her relationship to members of my family.  She has many good qualities and, I believe, good intentions; but her inability to listen -- her readiness to judge, using strongly held opinions  and projections that she freely (and sometimes forcefully) shares -- has brought at least three members of my family to tears.  It's hard for me to like her.  Yet somehow, I must maintain a cordial relationship with her while respecting myself and protecting my family members whenever possible.  Somehow, I must keep my dignity and not attack hers.

Listening  to another who has good intentions towards us brings us closer together. It's even possible when they're expressing  anger towards us, as long as they are owning their feelings and expressing them with respect. 

 

Listening to someone who is hurling angry vitriol does not bring us closer together. These kinds of relationships are not honorable. Sadly, many, many relationships are not honorable (every 15 seconds in the United States, someone is assaulted by an intimate other) and have no hope of becoming so unless and until there is goodwill present and each party honors the other -- not just some of the time, but all of the time.   

Where abuse is present, honor cannot be.  When abuse is the order of the day, chaos, pain and destruction are the only possible outcomes. 

 

When relationships are based on goodwill and honor, however, anything is possible.    As Oprah Winfrey aptly said, "If you seek what is honorable, what is good, what is the truth of your life, all the other things you could not imagine come as a matter of course."

Will it get messy?  Yes.  Will we make mistakes?  Yes.   It seems that our relationships bring forward all that is unhealed from our pasts.  It can be a lot of hard work to hold and heal those old wounds.  However, when we treat one another with dignity and respect, when we "listen another into a state of disclosure and discovery," as Douglas Steere said, it "may be the greatest service one human being ever performs for another."  Not only does it help to heal and transform old wounds,  it makes our lives worthwhile.   Not only does it heal the individuals involved, it heals the world, one heart at a time.  

 

This brings me to what seems to have become an obsession with me -- how do we humans learn to honor, not only  everyone but everything in the web of life?  As the early wilderness advocate John Muir noted, "When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe."

It occurred to me this sleepless morning -- sitting in my study in the wee hours, watching events unfold in the Middle East -- that a different kind of listening is being called for there.  A million people standing up for change, standing up against  an abuse of power that has kept them stifled, frustrated  and controlled, must be heard.

Not only must we listen in our private lives, one to one, we also need to listen to each other nation to nation, people to people.  Humanity, collectively, has a lot of soul-searching to do.  We must begin to truly honor each other and ourselves.  We must stand up to abuse and seek protection from those who would do us harm. 

 

Linda Kavelin Popov teaches that "honor is deep respect for what we know is right and true ... living up to the virtues of our character ... appreciation in action ...  treating others with the dignity they deserve.  When we are being honorable, we act with integrity, not to be admired, but because it is the right thing to do."   

Coming full circle, I find "companioning" to be one of the most effective ways I can honor myself, the other and the relationship.

I'll leave you with the words of my co-presenter, Dr. Mark Hein.  “As a therapist,” he says, “I’ve learned many techniques. But this is the simplest, most powerful way I’ve ever seen for one person to help another share deeply. And anyone can learn it.”  

I'd love to have you join us as we explore together how to "walk along" with one another.

~Namaste

~ Kate

"Listening to the Intimate Other" takes place on Saturday, Feb. 26, in Duncan, BC.  If you're too far away to come, consider the tele-seminar starting February 3, where you can learn deep listening from the comfort of your own home.   Interested? Write me at katemarsh@shaw.ca

The Practice of Honor

I live by my principles.

I cultivate the virtues and talents I have been given.

I treat others and myself with dignity and respect.

I am trustworthy in keeping my agreements.

I strive for impeccable integrity.

I do what I believe is right no matter what.

I am thankful for the gift of Honor.   It makes my life worthwhile.

Reflection Questions

What is honor calling me to?

How can I respect others while honoring myself?

Who would I like to appreciate and for what?

What are my highest principles?

Volume 28 - Humility

It was invaluable to meditate on mindfulness and balance this past month.  Seeking the boundaries I need in my life has helped me begin to carve out more time for myself.  As the year came to a close, I felt more balanced than I have in quite some time.

What helped?  Taking the necessary time just to be.   Time for reading, hikes (in the clear, crisp air) -- even some gardening.  Things that feed me at a very deep level.  I  actually slept for 10 hours a couple of nights in a row!

Last month, the feedback my pained body was giving me was loud and clear:  "What you're doing, the way you're living, is not working."  I was on the brink of a full-blown breakdown  in the form of a major fibromyalgia flare-up.

Our bodies are a system -- and there needs to be a balance in and around that system in order for it to function optimally.  It took mindfulness and humility for me to listen to my internal system and begin once again to ‘mindfully’ take care of it.

Thinking on the difference that mindfulness has made in my life, as we embark on a new decade in this world “out of balance,” it occurs to me that we collectively need to draw on mindfulness -- and humility -- to help us regain our balance.

The earth is a system, too. And all living organisms are part of that system.  Clearly the earth system is off kilter, out of balance.  The feedback we’ve been getting is loud and clear.  How might humility help us to get back into balance collectively?

Linda Kavelin Popov describes humility as “being modest, humble, and unpretentious.  We consider others’ views and needs as important as our own.  We willingly serve others and accept help when we need it.  When we cause hurt, we have the humility to admit it and make amends.  We accept the lessons life brings, knowing that mistakes are often our best teachers.”

The term “humility” comes from the Latin adjective humilis, which may be translated as humble, but also as low, from the earth, or humid, all of which derives from humus (earth).

When I think of the earth, I think of natural balance. Gaia in her wisdom, a system of living organisms that work in homeostasis.

In  his book Nature and the Human Soul,  Bill Plotkin defines nature as “all that exists independently of human obstruction or invention; each thing according to its own spontaneities.”  Unfortunately for nature, (and ourselves) we humans in our arrogance and ignorance have largely forgotten this.

      ... I look out

      at everything

      growing so wild

      and faithfully beneath

      the sky

      and wonder

      why are we the one

      terrible

      part of creation

      privileged

      to refuse our flowering ...

          ~ David Whyte, from "The Sun"

I just finishing reading  Fruitless Fall, The Collapse of the Honey Bee and the Coming Agricultural Crisis by Rowan Jacobsen. He chronicles the history of the European honeybee, its historic importance to agriculture, and modern agriculture’s dependence on it.  He  warns of the impending collapse of the honeybee species, and the catastrophic repercussions this will have for human survival.

Greeted by Time as "a spiritual successor to Rachel Carson's seminal eco-polemic Silent Spring”, Fruitless Fall puts a laser-like point on the ecological challenges facing Gaia and all her living systems.

In the last few decades, the world’s beekeepers have been humbled by the force and complexity of a phenomenon dubbed  “colony collapse disorder,” or CCD.  It has swiftly, silently decimated up to 50% of their hives (and livelihoods) with no warning -- and, so far, no definitive cause.

In the industrialization of agriculture, the focus has been on efficiency and perceived low cost -- to the exclusion of best practice.  Animals, including bees, are kept in unnatural feedlots and fed artificial diets, largely by machine.

These conditions are stressful.  Inevitably, they lead to disease; which is often managed by antibiotics and other drugs.  But the pathogens adapt, and themselves become more resilient “super bugs”; so our scientists come up with stronger antibiotics -- which puts things farther out of balance.

In addition, honeybees have lately been living life in the fast lane -- thanks to fossil fuels and cheap honey from China, it has become more profitable for North American beekeepers to rent their hives out as pollinators than to harvest their honey.  Thus, many beekeepers now ship their hives all over the continent by truck and train, following the crops.  All in the name of profits and the GNP.

Since the industrial revolution, we have measured the success of a family or a nation by its financial wealth.   But, as Robert Kennedy pointed out in the 1960s:

“The gross national product [GNP] does not allow for the health of

our children, the quality of their education, or the joy of their play.

It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our 

marriages; the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our 

public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage; neither our 

wisdom nor our learning; neither our compassion nor our devotion to

our country; it measures everything, in short, except that which makes 
life worthwhile.”

Or, in the words of economist Joseph Stiglitz, a Nobel laureate and former Chief Economist at the World Bank:  “What we measure affects what we do. If we have the wrong measures, we will strive for the wrong things."

Wrong for the honeybees, wrong for the humans, wrong for every passenger on our humble planet.

Honeybees may be the modern canaries in the coal mine.  As their colonies are collapsing, so are ours.  Jane Jacobs, in Dark Age Ahead, convincingly argues that humanity is on the brink of cultural collapse like the one that followed the fall of Rome; a catastrophic loss of all our marvelous accumulations of knowledge and technology, and worse -- a loss of memory that they even existed.

By most accounts, it looks and feels very much as if the fate of the

world is approaching a fundamental crossroads, and for most 
prognosticators the future is grim. …

Undoubtedly many of the major issues of the day – from politics and 
culture to economics and climate – are seemingly in a downward 
spiral, [but] it’s also true that this is a time of great innovation, community-
building, and creative visioning.

For every corporate crony there’s a neighborhood activist; for every
warmonger a peacemaker; for every usurer a micro-lender; for every 
profiteer a  volunteer; and for every agribusiness an urban garden.

In each case, we can expound upon the poverty of the former while also 
highlighting the power of the latter.

                                                                        -- Randall Amster

***

What is the “power” of these simple, local measures, when they are up against entrenched multi-national institutions?    I think the very fact that they are humble,  as are the people who practice them.

Whether we are donating $25 for a micro-loan to a tiny local enterprise in Africa or Latin America, or speaking up at a school committee; supporting local small businesses rather than large big box stores; chopping out the dead stalks to make way for spring planting of a backyard garden, and/or buying as much local and organically grown food as we can access and afford,  we are being humble, of the earth, working in and with the Earth and her children.

Even if we are “only” taking the time to listen to our bodies and rest, so that we can speak -- and listen -- more mindfully to those we love, we have Gaia working with us, because we are working with her.

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the state of the world and I can easily go to despair.  I worry that nothing I can do could possibly help enough to make a real difference. We really can't know standing here and looking into the future, how it will all play out.  Then I look out at my garden, or hear the laughter of a child at play and I think of the musicians on the Titanic who even though they knew their fate used the gifts they had been given right up to the very last moment.

Like Helen Keller, I wish I could "...  accomplish great and noble tasks, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble."  My job (and yours) is to bring the gifts I've been given into the world.

The environmentalist and lifelong student of world cultures, Thomas Berry calls humanity's almost universal commitment to industrial progress, "the supreme pathology of all history" -- and says it requires remedial treatment:

The entrancement with industrial civilization ... must be considered as a profound

cultural disorientation.  It can be dealt with only by a corresponding deep cultural

therapy.

    At such a moment a new revelatory experience is needed, an experience wherein

human consciousness awakens to the grandeur and sacred quality of the Earth process.

This awakening is our human participation in the dream of the Earth, the dream

that is carried in its integrity not in any of Earth's cultural expressions but in the

depths of our genetic coding.  

In the days leading up to writing this blog, the song Color of the Wind  from Walt Disney's Pocahontas has been playing in my mind over and over again.   I finally googled it and found a clip sung by Judy Kuhn.   It may feel corny to you but if it feels right, I humbly invite you to click on the link above and listen to it.  [I found myself weeping]

I leave you with the words of Bill Plotkin:

A healthy society is, among other things, sustainable, just, and compassionate.  It is

sustainable because it is expressly organized as an integral component of the greater

community of Earth; it establishes a niche for itself that benefits both its people and

the greater geo-biological community of which it is a member.   It is a just society

because it provides equal opportunities and benefits  for all persons.  It is compassionate

because it shares its wealth with all other societies and with the greater web of life; it

does not exploit other peoples or species.   -- Nature and the Human Soul

May we humbly begin to work together with each other and the systems that sustain us,  to create healthy society everywhere.  May we do so consciously and with purpose.  May we finally enter the season of our flowering.

Happy 2011 and beyond.

Namaste

~ Kate

The Practice of Humility

I value others' thoughts and feelings.

I am willing to give and receive help.

I am a work in progress.

I admit mistakes and learn from them.

I am resilient, not perfect.

I am grateful for my gifts.

I am thankful for the gift of Humility.  It is my greatest teacher.

Reflection questions

What lessons is life presenting to me?

What am I thankful for?

How can I better consider the needs of the sentient beings around me?

Who do I need to make amends to?

Volume 27 - Mindfulness

I got a wake-up call this week. An old whiplash injury is often the first place I begin to experience a flare of the fibromyalgia that at times has been crippling in my life. And my back, neck and shoulders have been "singing."

It’s a combination of too many hours at the computer working on a fresh new website for my business, not enough physical exercise, and -- I’m almost embarrassed to say -- a general lack of boundaries in my life.

Why is that embarrassing? Well, setting clear boundaries is the third of the five strategies of the Virtues Project, a project that I have been living and working for almost 20 years.

To add insult to injury I’ve been facilitating a tele-seminar on boundaries the last couple of weeks, which I suspect assisted me to see that once again (without my conscious knowledge), I’ve been allowing my internal boundaries to go unheeded -- and once again, my body is trying to let me know it.

The worse thing about it is, I wasn’t being mindful so I didn’t realize the boundary bit. Oh, I knew that my body was hurting, but explained it away by the actions I was taking -- e.g., working hours on the computer -- rather than the actions I was neglecting to take.

I wasn’t "mindful" of what is really going on for me.

It took an avalanche of anger, triggered by what I took as a criticism from my son, to point it out.

As 18-year-olds often do, my son was trying to enlighten me about what he sees as a flaw in my thinking. (And without all the information, he felt absolutely right.) I listened, responded and when he kept on, I grew silent. Suddenly, without any explanation, I just got up and left the room.

Sitting in my office, trying to read, I became aware that I was not breathing, that I could not really get my breath. I began to "mindfully" breathe and immediately became aware of an avalanche of anger that I didn’t want or understand.

I got up, grabbed the vacuum cleaner and headed to the basement. The next hour was spent aerobically cleaning up the dust and dirt and tidying the detritus of life. I even put on loud music for about 10 minutes, allowing it to muffle my tears while I threw the vacuum hose around like a weapon.

After the ton of anger had shifted, I was able to be mindful once again.

I fully understand why this happens: my childhood home was full of anger, but it was almost entirely unspoken. Sometimes, the anger the adults could no longer hold was taken out on the children, in physically and emotionally demeaning actions and language.

There was no way I wanted to repeat that with my own children but I had no models of how to express anger in healthy ways. Consequently, I've become accustomed to 'stuffing' my anger. Energy has to go somewhere and that angry energy goes directly into my body.

These singing shoulders of mine are a teachable moment. An emotional barometer, if you will. An invitation to mindfulness.

To be mindful is to be aware of things as they are. We are able to be mindful by purposely paying attention to the way things are, rather than what we want them to be.

Linda Kavelin Popov says: “Mindfulness is living reflectively, with conscious awareness of our actions, words and thoughts. Awake to the world around us, we fully experience our senses. We are attentive to others’ needs. We refuse to rush. Living mindfully lightens our lives by helping us to detach from our emotions. We transform anger to justice. We seek joy instead of mere desire. We cultivate our inner vision, aware of life’s lessons as they unfold. Mindfulness brings us serenity.”

I’d like to be able to report that once I became mindful of what was really ‘up’ for me, I felt serene. I did not. "Hon" (my internal critic) began her "coulda, woulda, shoulda" rant ... and a deeper journey into what I really want in and for my life unfolded.

The intense anger had very little to do with my son and his adolescent idealism. It had everything to do with the abuse I was subjected to as a child, and the abuse that my parents (and theirs, and so on) were subjected to. It had everything to do with the lack of virtues development that I think is behind all of human atrocity and failure to live in love and unity with one another.

The Bill Cosby ‘hurt people, hurt people’ thing.

Dan Popov reminds us that Virtues are required for the success of any human endeavor. What virtue was missing?

That question led me back to mindfulness -- [funny how that happens] -- and mindfulness led me back to myself, and to my intention to be the person I want to be in the world. To the realization that beating myself up for being out of touch with myself is not helpful.

In his best selling book of the same name, Don Miguel Ruiz suggests that four agreements can assist us to navigate this "being human" journey with grace and personal power. These agreements fit beautifully with the Virtues Project and its message.

"1. BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORD

Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.

2. DON’T TAKE ANYTHING PERSONALLY

Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.

3. DON’T MAKE ASSUMPTIONS

Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can, to avoid misunderstandings, sadness, and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.

4. ALWAYS DO YOUR BEST

Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to stuck. Under any circumstance, simply do your best and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse, and regret.”

These agreements speak to me as an invitation to examine what my boundaries are in relation to the people I am living with. To realize that things have changed for me -- expectations and desires have changed, now that my children have grown closer to adulthood than babyhood. That it is time to begin a dialogue with the people I live with, so we can let each other know who we are becoming at this stage of our lives and how we can support each other to do so.

It strikes me as perfect timing, with the holidays coming up and the beginning of a new decade in a new century right around the corner. A good time to read the internal barometer, discover where I am, and lean into where I want to be.

I'm going to begin by grounding and centering myself, getting in touch with myself so that I can feel my way in to the answers.

Jon Kabat-Zinn teaches a short mindfulness meditation in which you lay on your back and breathe. Placing one hand on your belly, over your navel, you notice how your abdominal wall rises with the in-breath and falls with the out-breath. As you continue to breathe, you merely see if you can pick up on and feel that movement, first with your hand and then without, "putting your mind into your belly." I am going to practice this short meditation daily, with an aim to stay closer to -- more 'mindfully' in touch with -- how I really am. It's going to be a gift, both to myself and to those I love.

Perhaps you'd like to do something similar.

May this season of light and love encourage us to be more mindfully aware of the needs of the world, and the gifts we have with which to meet them.

And may we include ourselves in that mix.

Namaste

~ Kate

The Practice of Mindfulness

I seek always to be awake and aware.

I am considerate of the needs of others.

I keep a pace of grace.

I do not allow emotions and impulses to rule me.

I cultivate my spiritual awareness with daily reflection.

I am a lifelong learner.

I am thankful for the gift of Mindfulness. It keeps me present.

Reflection Questions

What do I need to be aware of?

How can I become more mindful of what's really up for me?

What lessons is life bringing me?

In what ways might I practice daily reflection that support my spiritual awareness?

Volume 26 - Empathy

Fifteen years ago I attended my first facilitator training on The Virtues Project in Seattle, WA.

Linda Kavelin Popov invited us to "turn our internal critic into a gentle observer." I don't think I can get across how profound that invitation was for me. How ready for it I was. Suffice to say, it was huge. Up to that point I literally could not hold a compliment without going to all the ways it was not true. The person might not even be finished what they were saying before I had blanked out on anything positive they might be trying to convey, and had beaten myself up with a dose of shame and blame.

Having been raised in a divorced home with an absent, alcoholic father, I was very familiar with the shame-based "inner critic." Although I don't think until that moment in Seattle I even knew it. It was my default, my "second skin."

Judging and blaming myself had become second nature. I had a continuous loop of coulda - shoulda messages running around my brain. The idea that I could replace that negative talk was revolutionary. Even more revolutionary was the idea that the way to do it was to gently observe both myself and my internal critic's messages.

I was so ready.

Not only did Linda invite us to cultivate the gentle observer, she invited us to give the critic's voice a name. Ergo my conscious relationship with "Hun" (as in Attila). Things have improved between us: for the most part, I am now almost always able to call her "Hon." As a bonus, I oftentimes almost forget that she was my merciless inner torturer for nearly four decades.

Last week, introducing people to this idea at five days of Virtues Intensives, I saw and felt the light bulbs go off in their hearts and minds. Over and over they reported their own aha moments, or as one participant succinctly put it -- click.

I am eternally grateful for the privilege of leading and witnessing people as they share their strengths and challenges in the context of the virtues. Making a living doing it is practically unbelievable.

Most people come to my workshops wearing one or more of their "outer hats" -- (grand)parent, teacher, nurse, social worker, lawyer -- whatever vocation and roles they find themselves currently practicing. They also come with their internal critics on board, eager to "help."

I invite my guests to wear their "inner hats" -- as individual, completely unique spiritual beings having a human experience. I promise them that if they are here for themselves, even for just a day, their experience will be profound and authentic. And they will be more than equipped to go back into their lives and share what they've discovered with others.

We dive right in, experiencing how the strategies of the Virtues Project are strategies for living -- and how what started out as a parenting program swiftly (in the grassroots way any transformational path arises) turned into a powerful example of what Virginia Satir calls "peopling." The program helps us see, own and bring out the best in ourselves and see, acknowledge and bring out the best in others.

A win/win/win proposition. If we see and grow our own strengths, we win. (and those around us and in the world win too) When we show others how to see and grow their strengths, they win. (etc. - etc) And as this grows, the world wins. As Yul Brenner in The King and I so eloquently put it -- etc. etc. etc.

We look at our strengths -- virtues -- and our struggles (absence of or need for virtues) and share them in a safe environment of acceptance, courage, respect, trust and empathy.

We begin to heal our shame. (something that everyone has)

Last week, in one of those amazing synchronicities of life, right in the middle of the intensive I discovered the work of Brene Brown. A research professor at the University of Houston Graduate College of Social Work, she has spent the last ten years studying vulnerability, courage, authenticity and shame.

Ms. Brown has found that "shame breeds three things -- fear, blame and disconnection." Her research has also shown her (at first to her personal chagrin) that the ability to be vulnerable is absolutely tied to feelings of worthiness.

Of course, as she points out, a key way to become vulnerable is to open up the story we've been telling ourselves (or our internal critic has been telling us) -- to share it, and to let it be changed. After all, she notes, "From the beginning of human time, we've been wired for story."

It was delightful to find this research-based connection to the value of vulnerability in personal growth. And to find it at the same time as I was witnessing, yet again, a group of strangers becoming friends by sharing their hopes and their struggles.

One of the most important strategies we practiced during our five days together was the art of deep listening. As the Quaker writer Douglas Steere has said, "To listen another's soul into a condition of disclosure and discovery may be almost the greatest service any human being ever performs for another."

In order to listen our own or another's soul into such a state, we call upon and practice the virtue of empathy.

Linda Kavelin Popov tells us that empathy is --

"the ability to put ourselves in another's place and to understand their experience. We are deeply present to their thoughts and feelings, with such compassionate accuracy that they can hear their own thoughts more clearly.

Empathy connects us with our common humanity. It protects us from prejudice, blame and judgment -- those things that divide us from each other.

With empathy, we reflect on how our actions affect others. It moves us to seek justice for every person, even those with whom we disagree.

Empathy inspires us to be giving and selfless.

Empathy connects our hearts."

After working with people in workshops for 15 years, I know for certain it's relatively easy for folks to have empathy toward others who are sharing their struggles. I know from personal and professional experience that it's harder to have empathy towards ourselves (and the little selves inside us that show up to be heard when we do) and harder towards our intimates who are charged with accepting and loving us at our best and worst, but it's by far and above hardest of all towards the internal critic.

I've also learned that holding that internal critic with empathy, acceptance, curiosity and love transforms him/her and thereby us. We truly begin to be the change we want to see.

And then our world starts changing one heart at a time. Somehow we begin connecting with the collective heart of our humanity.

Once this reaches momentum (as in the 100th monkey phenomenom), I believe we'll be able to begin to show in word and deed, empathy towards all other life forms and mother Gaia herself.

Then we'll really be worthy of the appellation spiritual beings.

Namaste

~ Kate

The Practice of Empathy

I seek to understand others' experience.

I listen with compassion.

I refrain from judging and blaming.

I think about how my choices impact others.

I care about people's rights.

I feel my connection to all people.

I am thankful for the gift of Empathy. It sensitizes my heart.

Reflection questions

Whom would I like to stop judging?

Who's experience might I seek to understand?

How can I hold my 'inner critic' with Empathy?

What gifts does Empathy bring to me?

Volume 25 - Surrender

If you surrender to the wind, you can ride it. ~Toni Morrison

The first Noble Truth the Buddha taught was, "Life is suffering." M. Scott Peck, in his 1978 personal development classic "The Road Less Traveled," expresses it as "Life is difficult," and that once we truly get it -- understanding it to be true and accepting it to be true -- we can transcend it. (Or begin to.)

Life is difficult; or, as he says elsewhere, "a series of problems." Yeah, I've noticed. Big and small, there's plenty for all.

Just yesterday --the day I set aside to to finish writing this piece -- I spent several hours counselling my two youngest children on separate issues that came up for them. When that was finished, I was emotionally and mentally exhausted. "I'll attend to more menial tasks," I told myself, working on the deck railing we are replacing (in between weeklong spells of rain), then ending the day trying to unplug the basement bathroom toilet. In the latter process, I inadvertently left a dripping tap -- which pooled on the counter overnight, spilling onto the floor in the laundry room and ... sigh ... the life of the parent, householder, human being....

You know the drill. We go along clinging to our "best-laid plans" and little things happen that thwart them.

Sometimes, it's bigger things -- a financial meltdown leads to a recession and perhaps loss of work or decrease in income; a routine checkup leads to the news that we or someone we think we can't live without has a serious illness; a corporation causes an "accident" and tons of crude oil wipe out our coastline, taking our livelihood with it. A gigantic earthquake, flood or fire changes life as we know it.

I began this blog 25 issues ago with the virtue of Acceptance, noting John Lennon's apt reminder that often, "Life is what happens when we are busy making other plans."

I've had a lot of experience with acceptance. When I was a child, my parents divorced. As a result I was ill-equipped to choose a healthy relationship, and consequently, I divorced. Twice. The stress of trying to make the impossible (single motherhood) work cost me my health, and I developed fibromyalgia. You may be able to relate. Things you didn't want to happen, happened. Things you desperately wanted to happen, didn't. You learn to accept what comes.

Surrender is related to acceptance. I think it may take acceptance a little bit further, add a slightly different slant to it.

If we wed acceptance to understanding (and throw in some trust), we may come closer to surrender.

I'm not talking about waving a white flag on the end of a stick -- not exactly at least, though when I think about it, it is kind of a funny metaphor if we look at life as threatening in some unnatural way. What I'm talking about is the internal quality of surrender. What exactly is surrender in spiritual terms?

My dear friend Kara Hunnicutt shares:

"Surrender has a faint image of laying down my arms (as in weapons) -- an acknowledgement of my inner warrior whose courage has taken her just so far, but now must admit a larger truth. It speaks to me of release -- perhaps releasing my old stories of 'how things are', or releasing my need to be combative and drawn up into tight defensiveness. Surrender is a physical melting, a flower bud that opens, muscles that release. Surrender is a winding, gentle path from the head down to the soft animal of our body. The words sweet and surrender go together. Acceptance and trust lead to the physical sensation of surrender."

The metaphysician Doreen Virtue says of surrender, "It means to let go of agendas and judgments about what life 'should' look like or be like, and to instead accept life on life's terms." Doreen also points out that "Surrendering makes us relax, and thus allows us to better hear our intuition. We find that we can get honest with ourselves about what we really believe and want, and then follow this inner wisdom. A relaxed state also allows creative solutions to bubble up from the subconscious, and into conscious awareness.

Surrendering triggers an ideal emotional state for creating cooperative relationships."

Sounds good to me. Living with two teenagers, if anything creates the state required for cooperative relationships, sign me up!

Seriously, I wrote a few months ago about my son graduating from high school and moving into the world, finding his way. As I watch him move in one direction and then another, I sometimes find myself biting my tongue. I want to give him advice and guidance (unasked for of course) -- and it's almost always in a direction that is not at all his inclination. When I resist giving him the advice, I worry. How will he make a living as an artist? Where will he live? How will he ever afford a home of his own?

When I give in to my fears and lay my wisdom on him (unasked for) it almost inevitably causes distance and disunity. My retreat group calls this, "Help strikes again!"

Come to think of it, this happens with all the relationships I have, when I think I know better what a person needs than they do themselves and take it to the next level by gifting them with my opinion.

Often in life, with my children especially, it really seems like I am right and I do know what it is they need. Not because I'm smarter in any way (I know I'm not). More like I've lived into some wisdom, based on my experience, often experience that caused me some kind of hardship or pain. In other words, out of my "mis"-takes.

When I surrender and let them be, I feel the recognition that Kahil Gibran so eloquently penned about my children not being my children, but rather the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through me but not from me and even though they are with me, they do not belong to me. When I look at my children that way, I can get curious and ask, "Who are these people that came through me? What are the gifts they bring to me? To the world?" And, most important, "How can I help them discover those gifts.?"

I'm reminded of what I've learned in the two decades I've been applying the strategies of the Virtues Project to my life. If we do for someone something they can and should do for themselves -- we disable them. And so I must surrender my children, the passion and fruit of my life for the past 33 years, surrender them to Life, trusting that they will find their way. It might be messy sometimes, and assuredly painful at others, yet I must hold them able. A wise elder once said that "Life is for learning our lessons."

Also, I recognize, though I have a lot of influence on my children, they really are their own people with their own ideas and longings. They are meant to be specific people -- not little Kates -- but unique individuals in their own right.

And what about life outside my four walls?

The situation in the world seems to me to be (and has always been) out of my control. If I were Queen of the World, everyone would have shelter and food, clean water, useful work, peaceful homes and countries. Healthcare. Education. Love. This isn't something I take lightly. It seems to be one of the visions I bring.

Perhaps it's because I came of age during the Vietnam war, the first war to receive live television coverage. I remember the images on the six o'clock news -- an endless river of body bags emptied from C-130s. I was grieved yet powerless. I used to pray on my grandmother's laundry porch on the first star: "Star light, star bright the first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight. I wish for world peace and happiness."

Concurrently, the civil rights movement was in full swing; there were protests in the streets for equality, for nuclear disarmament, for bringing back our troops. Mainstream youth from the US were driven into the counter-culture by the draft. Any moment, their number could be up and they could be sent to the jungles of Asia to defend the free world.

And here we are, 50 years later. How is the "free world'? There is war in Iraq, in Afghanistan, the Sudan; Somalia is a collapsed country run by pirates. We no longer see the reality of this on the nightly news, however, as the Pentagon declared war zones off limits to journalists under President Reagan, so the only coverage we now see is what they allow.

I could go on and on but you get the drift. Basically what I need to do is surrender to what is while doing what I can to make it different.

Sylvia Boorstein said, "I've discovered there are only two modes of the heart. We can struggle or we can surrender. Surrender is a frightening word for some people, because it might be interpreted as passivity, or timidity. Surrender means wisely accommodating ourselves to what is beyond our control. Getting old, getting sick, dying, losing what is dear to us ... is beyond our control. I can either be frightened of life and mad at life or not."

When I think of the state of the world right now -- the inequities, the hunger, the climate change, the injustice to humans and the natural world that is perpetrated each and every day -- I do feel mad. And helpless. I also feel despair and yes, I am sometimes frightened. When will we humans collectively learn our lessons?

How can I hold all the polarities having this human experience on this planet bring me and enjoy this one life I have been given? How can I surrender to what is and still work for what could be?

How can I make a difference? How can I surrender to what is, and work for what I want to see?

The serenity prayer comes to mind. You know how it goes:

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." --Reinhold Niebuhr

Did you know there was an extended version?

It goes like this:

God, grant us the....

Serenity to accept things we cannot change,

Courage to change the things we can, and the

Wisdom to know the difference

Patience for the things that take time

Appreciation for all that we have, and

Tolerance for those with different struggles

Freedom to live beyond the limitations of our past ways, the

Ability to feel your love for us and our love for each other and the

Strength to get up and try again even when we feel it is hopeless.

Sounds like a manifesto for living -- and an apt description of surrender.

Think I'll mediate on that for a bit. I'd love to hear your thoughts on surrender.

Namaste

~ Kate

The Practice of Surrender

I use wisdom and understanding to discern the things I cannot change.

I accept those things I cannot change.

I have patience for the things that take time to change.

I'm tolerant of those whose differences challenge me. (as they may never change)

I accept life on life's terms.

I'm grateful for the ability to surrender to what is. It gives me peace and opens me to new possibilities.

Reflection Questions

What or whom do I need to surrender?

What new possibilities might surrender open up to me?

What would help me accept life on life's terms?