Dear book club friends,
For a while now it has felt like I lost focus for bookclub content. I drifted into a thing for a bit, and then couldn’t quite sustain enthusiasm for it…drift toward another thing…I am sure this isn’t news to any of you. I am pretty sure you shared my luke warm enthusiasm for some of the topics I was exploring. I have felt like we were in a transition space where I (we) wanted to maintain the connections and the rhythm of posting and gathering, but something had already begun to shift…and I couldn’t tell where it would land, what might come into view around the bend. Whatever it was, we were waiting in a holding pattern – I didn’t know what to share next with you, where we were being led, and until I did know I was stuck – unable to move with clarity into something different.
I don’t think I articulated this to any of you – it is scary to say that something treasured and vital has come to an end and not know how to speak of the unclear thing that may (or may not) be on the way.
I can hardly begin to wrap my head around how much has changed for me in the past two months, and when I set that in the context of how much has changed for me (and in me) in the past two years it is a wonder indeed. I know you, too, have been moving through change and growth and loss, and it is a deep source of comfort and joy to journey with you through all of it. I don’t want to lose that…Thanks to Brene Brown, I can recognise and name the fear riding on the coattails of that joy-vulnerability.
So there are three pieces that I want to tell you about here, pieces that have fallen into place for me with the resonance that signals a shift.
The first is a piece that my yoga teacher, Theresa, wrote about journeying with pain. Apparently out of the blue, she woke one morning with severe shoulder pain. She did all the things that you might do – rest, movement, heat, physio, breathing, massage, anti-inflammatories etc. etc. She also did some things that you might not do – energy work, chanting, meditation, consulting with other yogis and gurus. She found herself in constant pain, some days just living from one hot bath to the next – the only thing that reliably eased her discomfort. Slowly, slowly, the pain began to recede. She wrote that while no one thing she tried actually ‘fixed’ the pain, everything she did contributed to her wellbeing, supported her in living with and through the pain.
I am someone who is always searching. Always aware of a longing and a yearning for something missing, something more, always thirsting for the water that will quench that dry feeling inside and never feeling entirely satisfied, entirely peaceful, entirely whole. My searching has been personal – it’s about my inner lack – and it’s been social. I saw a collective lack, and the longing I felt for inner transformational healing and wholeness I also longed to bring into (lead, facilitate, model to) the gathered community.
I expect that most of the resources I’ve posted about here are essentially aimed at this one goal in these two arenas.
Theresa’s reflection on her approach to living with pain – ‘nothing helped and eventually everything helped’ – is the same approach that she had to establishing a daily discipline of practicing yoga. And when I read her story something softened in me. Along with the longing and the sense of lack was a lot of judgement: judging the feeling of lacking and longing for more; judging the seeking and constant exploring down any avenue, and the judgement about not being satisfied with any of it…all of that softened as I shifted my perspective – journeying, not arriving, and cumulative, not singular.
The second thing is a book: The 15 commitments of conscious leadership. I think this might be the last book in my search, not because I have found what I’m looking for, but because how I look is changing.
This is an excellent resource, and they have heaps of great material online. At first, I wanted to make this the next book. But here’s what I discovered in the 15 commitments: there is nothing new here. Really. It’s great. I love it. It makes me very excited to read it and think about journeying with it and with it with others, but one way or another as far as I can tell we have pretty much covered everything in it already.
And that’s the third thing, I guess. The conscious leadership people use a line to help people orient themselves. When you are above the line you are curious, open and committed to learning. When you are below the line you are closed, defensive and committed to being right. Exactly where you are at any given moment is less important than asking yourself the question: Where am I? Everyone goes below the line, not everyone stops to check and make a conscious choice to support themselves to shift perspective. Conscious breathing helps support the shift, and so does….a SFD, with full on blame and shame, followed by questions to support you turning around, taking responsibility for your own part, finding ways to see others as allies, to open to learning, to be curious about what else is here…
Conscious leaders are ok with emotions. They know their particular patterns of numb/distract/drift out of curious, open learner mode, so they can catch themselves and shift back. They practice wonder. They value play. I think you get the picture.
The thing that really felt like a time-stands-still-while-I-let-this-sink-in moment was when I realised that the way to practice the first commitment is the same thing Brene offers in her SFD, and it’s the same thing Byron Katie offers in her The Work turnaround. I have had that worksheet for over 15 years.
So: “You already have everything you need.” Turns out that’s true on many levels.
Where does this leave book club? Let’s talk about that. Let’s talk about what you need in this season. Let’s talk about what we can offer each other in terms of support and how we might organise ourselves around that. Love you xox
an unusual book club 