Tendrils. Sitting with tendrils. Simple… sitting with tendrils. A tendril of a button … a tendril of the ink from the tip of a tattoo needle. The tendril of a single hair… the link of that tendril as thread. That tendril all a loving thought. That tendril as a weaving of tapestry… each a tendril. The mossy tendrils that come off of and up from stone. Tendrils in scope and scale… a mighty cable… steel … holding up a bridge… still, in context a tendril… a mass of tendrils and also a tendril in context.
What my father taught me, as he lay dying. When he would suddenly feel like he was falling, he would reach up a hand… and all he needed was to have the hand grasped. Nothing more. Perhaps a word… gotcha. That is all.
Sometimes… a schizophrenic asks for 5 minutes in a warm room to drink a cup of coffee… Disheveled … and five minutes. Permission is given. A timer is set. A cup of coffee is drunk. Then, raincoat on, umbrella up… with great appreciation, that seen, connected mind… in gratitude, can be in the rain, with a community connected smile.
Five minutes and a cup of coffee. A hand and gotcha… Then, in a safe place of connection… getting back to the work of … negotiating with the staff in my mind… laying down to die…
Is our connection that of being in charge of both sides of a conversation? Is our connection to connect with the moment of common? Or, is our connection to begin, within, to see and choose, with understanding,
What language? We, us? They, them? We, us with a management of both sides of the connection? We, us with connection and deep listening? They, them… are we and us when we ‘choose’ …
The challenge of this moment is that subtle and ‘all the power of the universe’; seeing.
Dancing in the tension of the gap… in that dancing, there is something else. It is the gratitude of a moment when the connection carries across the gap. The circle of all of ‘us.’
From What — To What?
When I begin from that place of walking to where I am… this is not an existential experience. It is a finding place for scope, scale and context. It is the rooting place of who, what, where, when, how and why. There is a place that invites a beginning moment.
If all emotion is based in projection, assessment of projection, engaging projection error and then recalibrating the projection so that it more closely responds to experience… and, in that set of practices, a connected and fostering attitude is manifested; a from what is assembled.
Gremlins and a journey…
Muray Bowen is responsible for the next image. That dance of triangle that invites the gremilins of guilt and shame… that of not good enough, bad playing… I did something bad… I am bad… Learning to engage in the gremlin dance and once dancing… beginning to be clear about where I live… and in that rooting in place, knowing self the better and the more.
Open and learning — Closed and defending
In hearing a conversation… is it based in yes/and or yes/but? Do the conversants cut off or give a lead for the next round? In participating in policy design, a room design, a song, a creative activity, a walk… in engaging a process; what is my attitude of participation. Are the who, the what, the where… dancing in a shared form? Is the when, the how and the why… in sync, in congruence, in… ?
Does the connective collaboration align and integrate both up and down a power structure? If yes/and, open… if yes/but… a system in defense. A system in decline. It is not black and white… for there are too many varibles of inside/outside, scope/scale, input – process – output…
This multi-variable sense and framing allows a fostering, sustainable system of integrating different levels of competence and structure to flex and dance in the storm. It is where we live in this moment. Well, it is where I find myself living in this moment.
Passing the torch…
It is easy to hold on to a place. Even as the place leaves me. That desparate desire to have a home and a place to belong. To reflect on this sentiment. To own it as a desire.
In recognition, “There are many days that I wish desparately to fit in; to feel as if I belong. And yet, I do not. For to fit in, is too painful to my soul.”
What was a story or narrative of yesterday, a foundation of memories in stone… That castle has crumbled. In the strewn ruble… a wisdom comes from the foundation stones. The anchored ships in resentment bay begin to pull up, to come to harbor, to refit, to renew… to integrate the lessons learning in projection error. In that stripping away, collapse, renewal… there is something else happening. The dance. The pulse of all creation is beating in slow harmony. It never stops. It always pulses… it always invites. Just … for a while, perhaps, a situational deafness has been about. In the renewal in a new dawn… the wisdom and walking through the dark time now breaks as a seed breaks open.
There is a great wisdom in this cycle… a gread and wonderful wisdom.
The more I learn… The less I know…
The work … each day. With thanks, humored moment and great appreciation.
Viktor E. Frankl
Lisa Feldman Barrett
William F. Buckley
Elizabeth Schussler Fiorenza
Barbara Brown Taylor
Christopher Cowan and Don Beck
Clare W. Graves
Edwin H. Friedman
Harry G. Frankfurt
Janine M. Benyus
It is a partial list of authors who have demanded attention this past year. Even as I tap this sentence, asking forgiveness for those forgotten, more raise pages to be included. Ah, such a rich place of learning to tap. In that demand is also a grand invitation to look at the foundations of much of my thinking. An invitation to evaluation, discarding, even wholesale remodeling. Along with this list of amazing thinkers, a larger context of the universe in which we all dance has also emerged. The simple question of, “Around what do you organize?” This simple question turns much of the narrative of the past several years on its head. The deeply shaken set of held belief, life narrative, story arc… all dumped upside down. The grand humor of seeing some of the foundation stones… turned over to reveal so much richer a vision. …
In song, in writing, in listening to the hopes and dreams of many clients… in the growing that happens each day in the fields around the house. In the deep seeds of thinking, observation and listening that the fun and challenging partnerships around and surrounding demand…
All of this, a tradition of taking stock. A tradition of pausing to give thanks for so many teachers. A gift of this huge classroom. And so many partners in that learning.
It all started with a review of the current list. The list that shifts and grows each year. For, there is so much to learn. In each new learning, the reminder of … the more I learn, the less I know.
Walking in the world this morning. Started to think through this idea of resilience and disaster. The walk … a beautiful day on the eve of Christmas.
First there is Scope. Then comes Scale. Finally Context.
Disaster comes in all shapes and sizes. All contexts. All scopes. All scales. Full stop.
When the walk eases away that set and rigid form to hold disaster in a certain frame… there is room to find paths beyond a disaster.
May this full on day be blessed with moving beyond and remembering scope, scale and context. Framing each in congruent response. With congruent expectation. In congruent available bandwidth.
This morning, while walking, it was clear that each breath was enough for the moment. Breathe and step. Pump the arms and then turn for home. Enough on this eve of Christmas. A blessing.