Category: General Learning

What a delight to host another round of Circle yesterday. This time, a class that is explicitly learning Circle’s doing and Circle’s being. I love the way that we so quickly found an activation together. That is to say, an animation. An authenticity. A joy.

I loved steering the group to some key learning. The power of hello. The interruption from banter and talking over that Circle offers. The importance of both a declarative and an inviting deeper why. The power of wicked questions. An exercise for generating those questions from an everyday resource

Yup, delight. To meet these folks. To share stories of origin (most of mine weave back to Christina Baldwin and Ann Linnea, and also the oodles of others I’ve hosted and taught Circle with). And to feel Circle cohering us.

It’s Autumn in Utah.

Yesterday Dana and I treated ourselves to an afternoon drive amidst the changing colors. There’s a road, The Alpine Loop, that ascends from the city of Highland, peaks out at 8,000 ish feet, and then descends to Sundance. It’s gorgeous. Spectacular. And meant to be encountered in slow pace.

I suppose all of that to say I bring some awe with me today. Inspired by the colors. By spaciousness and slow pace too. And by a few moments to park the car and walk the trails.

Some delicious Wander.

I was in San Diego, California that last several days. Mostly accompanying Dana, who, along with her colleagues was hosting a large group (650 ish) on the theme, “Next Chapters in Optimal Health.” It’s 2.5 days of presentations, stories, research. It’s also 2.5 days of people reaching out in connection and community.

Well, me, I like all of that. Cheering for Dana. Themes of “Next Chapters,” and community of practitioners in celebration. I also like to learn. I have a mind and learning body that can’t help but connect ideas. And further, to learn from another field of practice (the medical prognosis isn’t my thing, but the principles are), well that’s a gift.

Well, I love making the association from one fiend of seemingly unrelated learning, to my field of practice that is hosting conversations and learning. So, here goes. I’ll list Lufkin’s six truths that he told stories about on Saturday (they are the gold that lives near the lies). Then I’ll extrapolate a wee bit.

Robert Lufkin

1. I was not alone.
2. Disease doesn’t begin when you are diagnosed by a doctor.
3. Standard drugs and surgery don’t work.
4. It wasn’t four diseases; it was one.
5. Lifestyle works.
6. Age increases vulnerability.

Fun list, right. I particularly appreciated that Dr. Lufkin wove his own personal story of health into what are more universal learnings.

Some extrapolating. And with particular eye for the “meaning of life” questions that I engage in my work, and that so many of us are actively engaged in (or wishing so).

1. The myth of being alone is one of the most pervasive. We humans so often thing that we are in a personal isolation. Society so often promises connection but renders only the most superficial of connections. I’ve learned often that the seemingly personal is so often the most universal. True for disease. True for people asking questions about belonging and becoming also. We feel a strangeness often. A fear that it’s “just us” that wants to explore the mystery of things. It’s turns out to be quite widely shared.
2. Yah, things have history. Naming is important (like when a series of conditions gets spoken out loud and the not-knowing is relieved by knowing. But most life conditions arise out of patterns of living — sometimes over days and weeks; sometimes over years and decades. In my field, I like to lift the Zen saying, “Everything is connected. Everything changes. Pay attention.” It’s big time skill to become more conscious of these patterns we have, physical and emotional, and that have time line to them.
3. This is one of the most truth-telling aspects for Lufkin. He’s a Doc. And a professor. And from a tradition that makes enormous efforts to standardize care. Well, that’a messy thing. Big Pharma. Medical Board aversion to new approaches. And a time of human living / scientific tradition that so deliberately obligates to cause and effect reductions. Life is more complex and complicated though, isn’t it. And sometimes, we become quite obligated to narrowed and convenient approaches that don’t actually work.
4. I loved Dr. Lufkin’s naming of his own circumstance — “it wasn’t four diseases; it was one.” This again is appreciation for nuance, yes. But for the ways that those nuances move in relationship with one another. In my work, I often name it as “Relational Leadership.” It means offering process that invite more curiosity, not less, about how things are connected. And about the wisdom that might just now be ready to guide us.
5. Lifestyle does work. It’s pertinent for the point above also. Diet matters. Exercise matters. Sleep matters. Disposition matters. Habits matter. Courage matters. There’s some really impressive people in this conference who are “practice what they preach” people. And, quite encouragingly, people that support finding your start point (or your series of start points) to begin developing optimal health now. There’s a line from this conference that I find inspiring — normal isn’t optimal. Yes, there is practice and lifestyle in this. And yes, there is paradigm shifting invitation to integrate.
6. It’s truth-telling again — “aging makes your vulnerable.” Sixty-five year old knees generally aren’t 25 year-old knees. Lufkin is inviting realness. Not denial. But not hope-less pessimistic surrender either. He’s doing what I relate to in so many of my groups — inviting (even insisting) a realness about circumstance. So that we can find the most creative and live-giving insights available.

Well, there you have it. Dana and I will likely weave our conversations over the next week back to San Diego learning. Back to what the speakers shared. Back to the insights that take a few days to cook before they show up most fully.

What a treat to be in learning, wherever we go.

My friend Lucas, a teacher, recently wrote of what he was seeing in his teen students. An angst. A generalized disappointment. Hurt. It’s summed up in “rotten world.” Lucas is thoughtful. He’s the kind of guide I would like if I had some teenagers in school.

Lucas, however isn’t just talking about the rotten. He is also talking about the exquisite beauty that exists in the world. In the big things. But even moreso, in the small things. The way the wind is now gently blowing the trees out my window. The way the water ripples. The way that my friends laughed together yesterday.

Herein lies a hunch of the big work, right — it is accepting, not denying, that it all exists together. And further, since the loud, “rotten” voices seem so compelling and dominant, to commit enough courage to acknowledge the rotten, but then also, acknowledge the beautiful.

There is an honesty that is needed in the day. It isn’t more marketing material that either doomsdays the moment, or bypasses the suffering (and the emotional depth we are required to practice).

They all exist at the same time. I think young people in general, want those of us that have been living a while, to tell the truth, which includes restoring some of their power to see and create was is good. To witness what is available within them in any moment.

The fact that people might be willing to engage in such full notions — this too is worth celebrating.

Read the full article by Lucas. He and Marshall Opel (they led the bike trip / men’s retreat I did in the summer), they are doing some of the exquisitely beautiful work in the world.