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staying grounded

lotushand.jpgIt's one thing to talk a good game about "finding my center" and "staying grounded." It's quite another to live it. This week has been one reminder after another of how easy it is to lose my footing.

Just when I think I've got it figured out (oh, and am advising a client or friend on how to take care of their stuff), my demons show up to haunt.

 

In my work to help clients act and decide more consciously, I'm hyper-tuned in to craziness: when the reality of what's happening is somehow being ignored or unseen. And yet it's scary how capable I am of this myself.

Last weekend, my husband and I booked a trip to China for October. We've been wanting to check out Asia for years, so an abundance of frequent flyer and Marriott points lets us go at bargain prices. Then why was I so restless, so disturbed by making these plans? Turns out I've been acting crazy by not taking care of some basic but important priorities. In the past, running off to exotic lands was a great escape. Now, it causes unbearable dissonance if my own house is not in order.

Last night, I started a Staying Grounded List. Both my husband and I are adding stuff to it -- things we each need to take care of, some big (replace the car clutch, fund my SEP-IRA); some small and niggling (track down an order that's gone missing, replace a broken license plate holder). All of these things are about better self-care, giving ourselves a good kick in the rear, and staying grounded in, well...our present reality.

family tree

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We have a family of robins in the tree just outside our front door. I can see them from my office/studio, huge mouths open wide on bobbing little heads. Dad and mom robin have been tirelessly bringing worms back to the nest for days now. It never ends. When do they rest?

Yesterday, during a huge storm with high winds, mom sat like a puffed up plug on top of the nest, babies safe below. Through field glasses, I could see her rocking in discomfort as the babies squirmed below, determined to stay anchored and protect her brood from the elements.

My own childhood comes to mind. Dad, tirelessly making sure we had food and shelter. Mom, determined to protect us from, well, everything. They did their best, followed their instincts, and hoped it worked out. In many ways, what they accomplished in raising us is amazing - our family tree is fraught with broken boughs and unhappy nests. And yet that which goes undiscussed and denied has taken its toll.

As I struggle with my own sense of compassion and forgiveness - for my parents and for myself - these little guys give me hope. 

rocky mountain high

RMNP2.jpgJust returned from five days in Colorado. My husband and I both had business out there, then tacked on a couple of extra days for ourselves. What a potent mix, actually...some intense client meetings with folks stuck in a kind of post-layoff trauma, sublime hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park, lots of great food in Boulder (if you're there, check out The Kitchen and Powell's Sweet Shoppe), and a little spa-pampering to round things out.

Could have done without the lousy, overpriced mani/pedi I got at the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs. On the other hand, hiking among herds of elk, lunch-stealing chipmunks and countless wild flowers with my hubby was priceless.

sardoodledom

Scrippsspellingbee.jpgThe National Spelling Bee is here this weekend. Apparently, it's a very "in" thing with kids around the world. I guess if you can win this, you've certainly demonstrated your mastery of the English language.

On NPR yesterday, there was a short take on the National Spelling Bee. I love how they focused on kids being kids -- giggling at the word sardoodledum. It means contrived drama. How perfect. For a giggle of your own, here you go...

can you hear the mountain stream?

417LVC2P7cL._SS500_.jpgI've got enlightenment on the mind. Reading Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth, it's hard not to. Yesterday, as my husband and I hiked along a rushing mountain stream (actually, a creek with full-fledged waterfalls in the middle of Shenandoah National Park – who knew?), my thoughts turned to Tolle's story about how the Zen Master tells his disciple to listen for the mountain stream, and then "enter Zen from there."

Shaking off my week of feeling buffeted by a lot of unconscious acting out (clients' and my own), the power of Now -- in this current book, Presence --  feels like a port in the storm. And, hey, it's a lot easier! The timing of this book's appearance on my radar is just what the Zen Master ordered.

I don't make light of these ideas. I take them to heart, in fact. Designing a life is another way of living consciously. My daily task has been to attempt do so, yet it's weeks like the last one that remind me this is a journey.

Right now, this very moment, I'm loving these passages...

There are three ways in which the ego will great the present moment: as a means to an end, as an obstacle, or as an enemy. How do you go beyond a dysfunctional relationship with the present moment? ...see it in yourself, in your thoughts and actions. In the moment of seeing, of noticing that your relationship with the Now is dysfunctional, you are present. The seeing is the arising Presence. With the seeing comes the power of choice. 

Presence is a state of inner spaciousness. when you are present, you ask: How do I respond to the needs of this situation, of this moment? ...instead of reacting against a situation, you merge with it, the solution arises out of the situation itself...then, if action is possible or necessary, you take action or rather right action happens through you. Right action is action that is appropriate to the whole.

The more reactive you are, the entangled you become with form. The more identified with form, the stronger the ego. Your Being then does not shine through form anymore -- or only barely.

Nonresistance, nonjudgment, and nonattachment are the three aspects of true freedom and enlightened living.

My own little satori (flash of enlightenment) for today? Well, several actually:

  1. Being judgmental is just a bad habit that I can choose to give up, starting now.
  2. After being judgmental, resistance and attachment are my favorite defense mechanisms. I think I'll give them up, too.
  3. My attraction to working with archetypes makes sudden sense -- they're a powerful tool for bringing that which is unconscious (and the root of a lot of needless suffering) to light.
  4. Compassion and loving-kindness have felt elusive to me until now. I've wanted to feel them, but fear stood in my way, masked as my three favorite defense mechanisms.
  5. None of this is new information to me, it's just being presented in a way that I'm ready to move into it at a deeper level. Whatever has opened this up for me -- acupuncture, yoga, accumulated Western therapy, a walk in the woods with my husband -- I'm not afraid.

The idea from Tolle's book that made me smile the most? Something he quotes from Ram Dass: "If you think you are so enlightened, go spend a week with your parents." Which reminds me of my friend Mandy's useful reminder: when we recognize unconsciousness in others and then feel all judgy about it, we're reminded that we're not the Dali Lama yet.  That's okay, though. Because right Now, this very moment, I get it.

embracing doubt

My therapist calls it projective identification. I just feel like I'm caught in a storm, strapped to the mast, trying to keep from being swept up in the drama.

The client who's been making me crazy? Things came to a head yesterday. Just as we were getting somewhere during a meeting with 30 people on her management team (her direct reports, plus theirs), she couldn't tolerate it. As courage grew and elephants-in-the-room were spoken of, it was too much for her to bear. She stomped out, muttering "I can't take these people! I'm going to retire!"

Now we begin.

But for her, she seems to see this as the end. People have finally had enough of the insanity, ready to do something different. To speak their truth instead of avoid the conflict. I'm encouraging her to step into this with them. She's ready to bail.

I've been wrestling with a strange and powerful energy within myself for about 32 hours now, since the big showdown. Not just a mild case of open-eyed self-appraisal, but flooded with anxiety and self-doubt like I've not felt in a long time.

It's like my client's panic and unconscious self-doubt have come to roost in me. I feel like I've been infected...toxic stuff, that I'm physically trying to brush off of me. Cleanse out of me. Wild, huh? A few more sun salutations outta do it.

Or not. Julia Cameron suggests embracing doubt as a sign that the creative process is underway. Yes, we definitely got unstuck yesterday. And that there's a difference between honest self-appraisal in the light of day versus seething self-doubt that grips you in the middle of the night. The antidote to the latter is apparently a little self-nurture (is that why I ate two pieces of cake yesterday?) and a lot of self-acceptance.

Something my client and I could both use to get us through this. 

 

letting go to connect

I'm struck once again by the power of letting go. Okay, it was my smart friend, Mandy, who called this to my attention earlier this week on another topic - but the notion is apt here. We went to last week's Internal Branding Conference together to investigate what the super stars (IBM, AON, Genentech, Mayo Clinic, American Eagle) are doing to engage employees as ambassadors for their brands.

Wow, there are a lot of impressive, major-budget initiatives - beautifully messaged and packaged, slick, expensive. I keep wondering how much all of this really resonates with employees?

It boils down to letting go. It's not about hierarchies, perfect "messaging ladders," leadership authority, fancy branding or change management models. It's about asking people to step into a conversation and listening, and then taking action. Whether they use cutting edge Web 2.0 social media tools or in-person focus groups, successful leaders are letting go of the need to have all the answers. Rather, they're having the courage to ask employees to step up with some answers of their own, and staying out the way while the ride gets a little wild, a little scary...but in the end, produces much more credible answers because the people who work there figured it out, not their marketing or HR folks.

Sure, top leadership (and marketing and HR) must have the vision to tap into the paradigm shift underway here. But none of this is rocket science. This is not about jazz hands and sparkle ponies. It's about emergent collaboration. It means we all need to stop worrying and relinquish control.

Calm, grounded detachment is something I remind myself to embrace often, especially during a week like this. I've got a client that I'm trying to help who is fearfully clinging to her last illusory threads of control. She's making everyone around her nuts, including me. She's a very senior person in a large organization, so she's able to inflict a lot of damage. As much for her as for myself, I'm reminded of an idea that I attribute to Margaret Wheatley (although I can't verify this - if you know the source, please share it with me). I guess this one's for both of us:

Show up and listen fully, speak the gentle truth, let go of the outcome.

jazz hands and sparkle ponies

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At this week's ALI 22nd Internal Branding Conference, I was temporarily seduced, impressed, intimidated by and envious of the parade of gorgeous initiatives that were trotted out before us. Big budgets, slick messaging, award-winning packaging. All this talk about "brand ambassadors" was making me very uneasy...I felt my feet leave the ground, as I floated up into the heady stuff these marketing super stars were promoting.

And then Chris Thornton from Pfizer took the stage and brought me back to earth. He told how they built trust and credibility without all the chitchat or big production. In Chris' words, it wasn't about jazz hands and sparkle ponies, but about coming clean and passing the sniff test.

In other words, having the courage to tell the truth without spin, have real conversations with employees, and do a few things that really matter vs. too many things that have no impact. Some ideas worth trying (some jazzier than others):

American Eagle uses digital recorders to "get the voice" of employees in action, then uses employee News Agents to blog about what's happening throughout the company.

IBM uses video-taped interviews with employees around the world to ask them what they need to evangelize IBM with friends and family, then creates story-telling tools based on this input.

Pfizer stripped its employee development intranet of really boring academic, HR-y, process-driven content, replacing it with a "life event" approach to accessing tools ("Help! I'm a new manager - now what?").

Several employers use audio branding to ignite a little excitement on intranets, at events, around the office. I've been grooving on Kaiser Permanente's Thrive CD mix in my car all week.

I do think a smart marriage between cool marketing and strategic HR can happen. In fact, they need each other - on their own, they each miss a crucial side of the story. What makes me nervous is that it's already too tempting to gloss over the tough decisions and fierce conversations that most employers would rather avoid. Throw a few sparkle ponies at the problem, and you won't have to deal with all that jazz, right?

conscious choices

I was information-interviewed by a bright young woman today, freshly laid off from her fast-track career, mother of two under two. Yikes. She's eager to "keep the intensity" and get back on her horse, now. Her resume is impressive. Her story and language and credentials all very brainy and smart and big. Turns out we both went to the same undergrad - no wonder I recognized that young woman on the other end of the telephone. We both learned to keep the intensity from the same place.

And yet, in between or underneath it all, I heard the beginning of a question: is this right for me? It wasn't so much what she said as a sense I got. I couldn't help myself...and told her to slow down. To look around. Take a breath. Design her life, consciously, with eyes open. 

I know nothing about her situation - if she has to work, chooses to work, loves to work. All I know is that she's been handed a big, fat opportunity to be still. Breath. Think. Feel. Let go. Then choose well, with intention.

living the artist's way

514AV7K8Z2L._SS500_.jpgDo you know Julia Cameron's work? Thanks to my dear friend Mandy, we've been using Cameron's tools to guide us on a "spiritual path to higher creativity" for over two years, now.

I have Mandy to thank for my foray into the book arts. We set out with The Artist's Way, gave Vein of Gold a try, and are now wrapping up Walking in This World.

My spiritual/creative recovery has not been theoretical. The speed, depth and integrity of my life "redesign" are evidence of these tools' power. They are grounding as they inspire.

I'm reminded of their utility today. This morning, I opened The Artist's Way in search of a touchstone to anchor me as I wade into a creative project that feels way over my head. The book fell open to just the reminder I needed, "Filling the Form:"

"What do I mean by filling the form? I mean taking the next small step instead of skipping ahead to a large one for which you may not be prepared. As a rule of thumb, it is best to just admit that there is always one action you can take for your creativity daily. This daily-action commitment fills the form."

And then this, from Walking in This World:

"...the spot-check inventory of blasting through our blocks by the naming, claiming and dumping of any worries, angers and fears related to a project can also get an artist out the starting gate effectively."

With this as context for my morning journaling, voila, a creative breakthrough appeared. My clarity toward this project had been clouded by anxiety and self-doubt for months. This morning it finally emerged, like sunshine after a long spring rain.

puppy love

astro1.jpgAstro's been teaching me about how to pay attention to the details of life. And a lot about flexibility.

After 7 weeks of resenting (and griping about) the dog care details that have invaded my life, I'm officially head-over-heels in love with him. Go figure.

Having discovered the joys of Dogtopia and an enthusiastic dog walker, we all seem to be settling in nicely. 

can we handle the truth?

At last month's Social Media for Government conference, a major take-away for me was the disruptive power of Web 2.0 tools to bureaucracy. Many government communicators, CTOs, and program managers squirmed as a parade of case studies revealed the leveling effect that unfettered access to information and transparency can unleash. It's the chaos of user-generated information and questioning of the "truth" that's most fascinating to me. Even if senior leaders of any organization (public, private, for/non-profit) wanted to stem the tide of input (and challenge to authority) from everyperson, it's too late. The cat's out of the bag.

The digital natives (a.k.a. Gen Y employees) who will soon enough be running these organizations don't seem to be afraid to question everything. During one poignant exchange, that the New York Times is a font of credible knowledge (as asserted by a senior PBA officer) was quickly dismissed by a young agency communicator: "The first thing I do is Google a headline to see what else is being said on the topic!" The PBA guy sat in stunned silence.

What excites me is the social experiment that's unfolding. This technology appears to be self-leveling - so no matter what crazy rumors (or officially spun messages) get started in the virtual grapevine, a critical mass of contributors will ultimately flush out the real story. Maybe. On the other hand, if the questioners aren't questioning their own rhetoric, does the truth have a chance to emerge? Last Sunday's Washington Post article, Truth: Can You Handle It?, takes a closer look - as do the slew of comments posted in response.

lifestyle design 101?

I know that I didn't invent the concept of designing a life, but apparently I've also been living under a rock and totally missed the whole FHWW (Four Hour Work Week) movement coined by Tim Ferriss. This guy sounds pretty intense, a 30-year old Princeton grad who lives the life of an action figure.

Before I get all judgey or envious, I'll read his book and see what I can learn. He advocates a basic (albeit not easy) formula to work less, earn what you need and live fully. The keys apparently include creating a passive income stream, outsourcing time-consuming life tasks, mini-retirements throughout life, and knowing the difference between absolute vs. relative income.

Since turning 45 this past January, I keep thinking about how "someday" is now. Someday I'll study art, someday I'll spend more time with my nieces, someday I'll live overseas. That would be now, Kel - or at least put wheels in motion. Digging out from the rubble of my 30's has been my first priority in recent years. The smoke has cleared. Life is stable. I feel that I am living my life in a conscious, fully-engaged way. I'm not on auto-pilot. But the occasional kick in the pants that ruts, complacency and deferred living are easy for me to slip back into is a good thing.

I am curious about the details behind Tim's concepts - do they work for non-action figures too?

seductive gravity, mirthful levity

Came across something today on the Oregon College of Art & Craft Book Arts program page that makes my heart sing:

A book is the material vessel through which our minds explore the world and beyond, but the experience of the book begins with its look and feel - binding us to it - with seductive gravity and mirthful levity.

That's exactly the wonder I feel when I'm lost in my papermaking, book binding and box making. That I get to immerse myself in this happy state at Penland for 2-1/2 weeks this summer is pure joy.

 

archetypes

They're everywhere, these ancient inherent truths... and an example of how things seem to be converging in my life. Reintroduced to them in 2006 by my acupuncturist (Pilar, an amazing healer), I'm now an avid student of them. They just make so much sense, on a number of levels.

They have some pretty intriguing applications, some of which I'm exploring through my client work (branding and organizational development), and through my art. Just this morning, Julia Cameron made reference to them in her book, Walking in This World. If you don't know her work, you should.

Don't take my word for it, though - check archetypes out for yourself.

thanks for sharing?

TMI (too much information) is the risk of all this technology, I suppose. Where are the boundaries? In today's Washington Post, there's an article, Friends Indeed, about the backlash of putting too much of your life out there for the world to see. The particular tools in question are Facebook and MySpace - what I don't get is how you can have 3,000 "friends," as does one person they profiled. I have a hard enough time staying authentically connected to a small handful of friends in my life.

As I embark on this experiment into Web 2.0, I am already uneasy about boundaries. This exact topic came up recently in a project I'm involved in with a small group of women. Most of us know each other only through a few conference calls, although my best friend and a client are also in this group. The goal of the project is to publish a book in which 100 women tell their personal story of overcoming adversity. To experience this for ourselves before we asked others to contribute, we decided to tell our own stories to each other. Powerful, intimate stuff emerged. A little bit of chaos ensued.

I suspect it was TMI for some, who bowed out. For those of us left standing, we're trying to figure it out. Using Tuckman's stages of group development, it feels like we zoomed from forming to storming and are now struggling to norm. For me, it's stirred up questions around trust, premature intimacy and vulnerability. How do we make it safe for women around the world to share their stories, when those of us leading this project are confronted by the dynamics this exercise has stirred up?

And yet this is exactly why I'm engaged in this experiment. Because I want to know, firsthand, what these tools are capable of (for better or worse)...to become an informed and experienced user of them, as I wade into recommending them for clients and using them in my own work.

At last week's Social Media Conference, I met a woman from the State Department who introduced me to the term "digital immigrant." Kids who grew up with this stuff are digital natives; the rest of us are immigrants. I'm simultaneously fascinated by and respectful of the power of this new world I've entered.

My current stance is that, as with any form of communication (written or spoken), responsible and conscious use of a medium lies at the heart of the response my "content" creates. I remind myself to be mindful of what shows up here and what my motivations might be for sharing something. And that not everything needs to be shared - at least not here.