Human to Human

Oh, have I loved hosting this week, Dreams & Seams. A new workshop. Thank you to those who participated.

At the high level, Dreams & Seams is another Becoming & Belonging offering. Online. Encourages curiosity, authenticity. Encourages further relationship with life flowing. Celebrates intuition, learning, surrender.

At a layer down from that, the process is using dreams (the night-time kind) to invite awareness. Not dream analysis. Yes, dream associativeness. That applies to waking life.

Dreams — because we have them (or we want them again). Because dreams have invitations. Because dreams are expressed through the sub-conscious, and perhaps the super-conscious world (sometimes we dream for the community).

Seams — because sometimes we need some stitching together of our life experiences. Sometimes for repair. Sometimes for fortitude and strength. Sometimes to further breathe hope to our inspirations.

Belonging is one of the most central invitations I know, and that I give my heart to. Becoming with more life energy — that too.

I offer simple structure to guide such things. And to participate. Jump in.

I’m offering this two-part online class on Circle again. April 9th and 16th, 9:00 – 12:00 MT (Salt Lake City, USA). Group size is limited to twelve.

What I love about offering this class is a strengthened practice and joy. Whether we are hosting friend groups, teams at work, or pockets of community organizers, Circle is a friend.

In so many places that I go, the yearning, the longing, and the need point to more relational, not less. And, from that relational, then growing and clarifying the operational. Circle is a form that activates us together. It lifts hearts. It lifts clarity. It lifts connection and courage.

Jump in. I’ll be glad to further that learning and practice with you.

A big thanks to James Crews, Vermont based poet, writer and teacher. I so appreciate his description to open and hold the doors together. From simple things, such reaching and fulfilling things. Another, “Start Here” piece of wisdom.

Holding the Door

If you haven’t held the door open
for someone lately, try it today
at the dentist’s office, the bank,
or the gas station where some impulse
pulls your gaze upward to meet
the eyes of a stranger with a smile.

The small fire of that single gesture
will stay kindled in you for hours,
and soon you’ll be finding other doors
inside yourself, admitting the pleasure 
of sending a letter to a friend, creamy 
white envelope like an invitation, 
raising the hand of the little red flag
on the mailbox. Or pausing to hear
the mating calls of two barred owls
hooting to each other before dusk
in a neighbor’s yard while you stand 
on a gravel road sinking in the mud 
of early spring.

Suddenly, you notice 
doors everywhere in need of opening, 
and you know this is your new job, 
welcoming whomever, whatever
passes through.

A Tale of Two Cities
1859
Charles Dickens

It was the best of times,
it was the worst of times,

it was the age of wisdom,
it was the age of foolishness,

it was the epoch of belief,
it was the epoch of incredulity,

it was the season of Light,
it was the season of Darkness,

it was the spring of hope,
it was the winter of despair,

we had everything before us,
we had nothing before us…

It all goes together, doesn’t it. Then, in the mid 1800s when Dickens wrote A Tale of Two Cities. Now, in all that swirls with soft delight, and with all that spears with sharp edge. And likely in every era, if given permission and invitation to see it all.

These days, as I encounter such reality, I recognize I’m trying to cultivate a few qualities and orientations that help bring relationship to such bests that go with such worsts. And then practice too, to create more life-giving ways to be in all of it. I’m leaning into these three things with some vigor.

1. Discipline — It takes discipline to stay in the wholeness of such things. It takes discipline to not get sucked in to one side or the other of such polarity, of such denial. It takes discipline to cut through others in their polarities. It takes discipline to both see at 30,000 feet and to act on the ground.
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2. Maturity — Maturity is in the discipline. Discipline is in the maturity. Kids get to see narrowly. Kids get to default to black and white description. Adolescents don’t get to, but they still do. It takes mature courage and mature community to evolve toward more awareness and more honest questions together.
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3. Playfulness — Yes, this too. There is a certain playfulness, that keeps our nervous systems in cooperation. Playfulness within the absurdity. Playfulness within the seriousness. Playfulness as joy. Playfulness as commitment. Playfulness as invitation. Playfulness that can live in the worst and in the best.

I’m so glad that many of us are navigating such polarity. And finding wellness in what lives between and around the poles. It’s our job, perhaps our joy, to offer such honesty to what is hope, to what is despair, to what is the big picture, to what is in front of us right now. To such tales of the two (and more) cities within each of us.

On we go.