Creatorship

Applying Presence

It's clear that I often talk about being present. It's not always easy to describe to someone how you know your are or what you do to get there.

I found an interesting article by Jon Aronstein,  Applying Presence: A Practical Exploration of the Means- Whereby" * that gives you a simple exercise to allow yourself to come into the moment.

I had done a similar exercise a long time ago (I was focusing on my hand at the time), I was amazed that at the end I felt a lightness and joy.  It crept in as the thoughts left and I simply became aware of my hand making the smallest of movements.

As with all things profound, embodying them is a journey, often entailing layers of awareness and understanding.

Try the exercise and see what happens. In its essence it is about slowing down and becoming 'aware of a type of presence, the "mind in the body." '

"Stand up comfortably, in a neutral and grounded position.  Take one shoulder and begin circling it:  Up,  forwards, down, back, etc. Very easy indeed. 

• Is the movement smooth and lubricated, or is it choppy and disconnected?  Stop reading and sense.

Notice that this can be done on "auto pilot."  That is, your intention is to circle your shoulders, your action is to circle your shoulders, done deal.

• Now begin "turning down the volume."  Slow it down.  Sense.
• Become acutely aware of the "quality" of the movement.  Sense.
• Are the circles really circular?  Stop reading and sense.
• Slower now.  Let go of the goal of shoulder circles just be aware that you are making the circles.  Let the circles happen. Don’t analyze them. 
• What parts of the circle are flat? 
• Can you feel why? 
• What tensions prevent the smooth movement? 
• Are you circling your shoulder blade?  Do you feel your waist muscles?  What are your hands and arms doing and feeling?
• What is happening in the rest of the body? 
• What are your thoughts?
• Try to avoid labeling and just sense.
• Feel the special mood of concentration turned inward that shows up.
• Get smaller and smaller, stay in your comfortable range of motion.
• Get more "cortical and new" as you move away from moving "habitually and reflexively."
• Reverse directions of the circle and apply the same type of internal questioning and awareness.
• Continue for as long as you like... get the hang of this and do it without reading this, or find someone to read it to you the first few times until you do it on your own."

When you are through, just pay attention to what you feel, sense, and experience.

The article covers much more in regards to sensory-motor, somatic learning. It is well worth the read.

*published in the Newfield Network Newsletter, July, 2009

when it is getting hard...

"It's only failure when you no longer pursue it. Until then it's learning."

 Paula Butterfield, a friend and very wise colleague

At times, work seems hard.  I don't always have the energy or know the next step to move things forward. Talking to Paula about this, she reminded me "not knowing" isn't failure.  Being frustrated isn't failure. Even seeing myself in old patterns isn't failure. Not trying, giving in, or letting the overwhelmed feeling lead me to quit .... just might be. 

So, I'm recommitting to moving forward, to keep writing, to meditate more so I'm not trying to do it all on my own steam. It is spring... and that is a time of rebirth. The sun warms my body and my heart. And I am grateful!

Truth or Consequences

Political spin, put-down commercials and speeches solely to sway voters -  ah so.... that face of politics.

Here is a non-partisan website dedicated to objectively researching the facts behind the claims: www.factcheck.org  If you know of any other sites that can help us sort fact from fiction, click on http://bes2.typepad.com/  and scroll down to leave your ideas comments.

"Not Found"

Right before I left for vacation my website went AWOL. It disappeared from the eyes of the world. "NOT FOUND" the error message said.

Acceptance is one of the three creating principles I believe in.  I was amazingly calm as I left for a two week camping/granddaughter's graduation trip. "It was as it was"....my site was NOT THERE.

Since I've been back I've been trying to either figure out what happened and/or try to find a Mac folk who might know Rapidweaver (the software I was using).  This morning I did what I thought I'd done before and THERE IT WAS, my website was back, new and improved (I hope).

Now there is a nice feeling knowing something I did worked (unless indeed the stars just moved into a more favorable position).   I wish I knew what happened. I have hints but no real knowledge of what worked and why. For all I know some of the steps I took were the equivalent of throwing salt over your shoulder.

All this reminds me of the challenges we all face in learning to interact with a complicated system. How much more is involved when trying to understand global warming or in assessing the real impact and cost of drilling in the Artic for oil?  Acceptance says you can only try to objectively see what is, understand the relationships, then keep adjusting your actions looking for feedback. Always keep the end (intention) in mind.

And of course, beware those with easy answers and short term "fixes" that ignore systemic impacts. (OK, this last one is a political announcement.)

Anyway, visit my site......let me know what you think. please, please, please.

P.S. Having retyped the site mulitple times there may be typos... a hug to anyone who finds one and lets me know.

Remembering about learning

You're starting something new: a hobby, designing your first website or maybe even a new business. You're excited and then you realize you don't know what you are doing.

Recently I decided to learn tapestry weaving. Not having a clue where to start, I googled it and bought a "how-to" book. There were a lot of instructions which looked easy until I tried them.

Suddenly it was the difference between reading how to ride a bicycle and riding one. My efforts  were amateurish and awkward. 

I went to a weaving group to be among those who knew what they were doing. I was totally focused on the over-under stitch I was learning while others were talking and laughing as they casually worked.  My brow was knitted in concentration and I talked to myself,  "over-under, over-under..ooops what's wrong here it doesn't look right...darn how could I have messed this up, rip it out, over-under...."  Enemy of Learning #1: I want to be good now! 

When I got tired, I looked around and saw how really good the others are. These are fiber artists! How could I think I could be a part of this group? Enemy of Learning #2: I'll never be as good as them.

However, I was determined, so I continued after I left the group. I am working on little projects, learning how to maintain tension so the piece is even, what to do with those loose yarn ends, or how to start and finish a piece. My mind however says I should be doing more. Do all the exercises in the "how-to" book for example. Enemy of Learning #3: There's only one right way to do this and someone else knows it. 

Needless to say this experience has reacquainted me with what works (and what doesn't) when learning something new. I offer these humble words of wisdom for those of you embarking on new adventures:

1. I have learned to start where I am and keep going.
2. Don't compare myself to those who have been doing it for years.
3. Stay true to my inner guidance, the rest is just input.

I'm back to being excited and yes, enjoying the littles discoveries that someday, I too, will take for granted.

Tapestry from weavingart museum.

Switching computers is like life

I've been mostly off line since late December trying to move my files, address books and finally website from my old PC to my new computer, a shiny new MacBook Pro laptop. These past weeks have provided several insights.

1. If you are going to make a big change, then you have to be willing to risk chaos. So many times I was using a new program or trying to transfer data and I got to the point if I hit the next button, something big was going to happen.  Either it would work or my files would disappear into cyber space. Each time my stomach would give that "uh oh" feeling and I had to decide whether to go ahead or not. It became a metaphor for life, the excitement of creating. You don't know how something is going to turn out until you do it. All you know is that what ever happens you'll deal with it and keep moving toward what you want.

2. Not liking the answer doesn't make it less true. My intuition is pretty reliable. But sometimes I just don't want to know.  I decided to try and sync my Palm with my Mac calendar which is prettier than the Palm calendar.  I got a clear sense (a different quieter voice than my "uh oh" fear response) that the directions provided wouldn't work. Knowing I was about to leave for a meeting, it seemed prudent to wait. BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO! So I chose to ignore that input thank you very much.

I got to the "click here to disable your conduits" moment and that intuitive voice said, "DON'T DO IT!" but I pushed on. Well it didn't work and my calendar would no longer sync. I couldn't find the file where the disabled conduits were supposedly stored.  I had to leave for my meeting wondering if I'd ever get back to where I'd started.  [Note: I did get it restored to the original set-up but I would have saved myself a lot of stress if I had listened and waited.] A corollary insight: there is a difference between the excitement of not knowing and the stress of doing something stupid.

3. I'm a Mac kind of girl. The Mac is every bit as fun as I remembered it. I went PC because of my corporate work when Macs and PCs just weren't compatible. Somehow giving up the Mac was symbolic; it was changing to fit in, something I felt I had to do a lot of. Reclaiming the Mac also seems symbolic. It's reclaiming my fun side and it's about my ability to be in my own skin more comfortably.

I am close to being back on line so to speak. Check out my new website which I just figured out how to upload from my Mac <grin>.

Note: photo from linuxhotbox.com

What we see

We think we see objectively. We stubbornly assume that our perceptions equal "reality."  But do they?

"Information relayed from the outside through the eye accounts for only 20 percent of what we use to create a perception... 80 percent ...is information already in the brain." A Simpler Way by Margaret Wheatley and Myron Kellner-Roger, 1996.

These words never hit home as they did when reading Robert Kurson's book, Crashing Through: A True Story of Risk, Adventure, and the Man Who Dared to See(2007) about Michael May who, blind since he was three, underwent surgery to restore his vision in his forties. 

"Sheets of brilliant blues and greens and reds and yellows wallpapered the fresh outside air that swirled around his body, an entirely different bright than he'd seen inside... Puzzle piece-shaped objects, ablaze in light and color, kaleidoscopes onto his eye, at arm's length and miles away simultaneously...Darkness appeared beneath his feet, a gray he followed forward with his eye until the ground turned suddenly bright, yet still gray..."

The cascade of colors and light  we take for granted and easily translate into shadows, distance, shape and ultimately meaning are just that....a cascade of colors and shades of brightness. 

I read, fascinated, as May experienced his first sense of "ugly"  and as his wife worried whether he'd think she was pretty , and as he became overwhelmed with so much new to decipher. Faces, depth and objects require "a massive and complicated knowledge of the world to be perceived." We learn from interacting with the world, from the culture we live in and those around us.

And then, it occurred to me having learned to see we stop really looking, instead operating on past experiences and memory. Amy Freedman in her blog on seeing challenges us to pay attention as a beginner:

Take time to look at objects and people around you with new eyes. Practice the art of observation at a museum or really look at the details found in a picture book. Train your eye to take in both the background and foreground of the scene before you. Talk to other people about what they see. Walk through the world like it is a work of art.

Simply looking at my backyard, relaxing my eyes and noticing only the colors and brightness without letting my mind name things was a profound exercise. It made me truly wonder how would it be if we stopped assuming we knew what was there.

• Would we more often be delighted with visual surprises? 
• Would we be more open to another's point-of-view?
• Is it possible that we could really see the world around us for the first time, in awe and with curiosity over and over again?  Perhaps we too can crash through and dare to see.