Human to Human

An early important teaching for me — behaviorally and conceptually — was that of slowing down.

My friend Meg Wheatley was one of the people to share that with me. It was often in the context of working with groups of people. It was emphasizing the necessity of relationality. That meant Circle, so that we could listen more deeply. That meant Cafe Tables, so that we could turn to one another in themed ways. Sometimes it was spoken, “slow down to speed up,” again lifting the significance of going together.

Meg is the first to teach me the African proverb, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go further, go together.” It says much about contradicting contemporary narratives and noble stories that only emphasize speed. Going slow is another way to go fast. Going slow is another way to bring meaning and purpose, which then helps the other things happen with less struggle.

My friend Chris Corrigan is another person that helped me to appreciate slowness. This was often in the context of hosting Art of Hosting events. A more spacious lunch — 90 minutes or two hours, not 45 minutes. More spacious time in small groups — 30 – 45 minutes, not 12 minutes.

With Chris and all of those events, we were all learning about the power of connection. And how connection isn’t just accomplished, it’s experienced. It’s evolved. Connection comes from both joy and struggle together — but definitely is accelerated by willingness to commit to slowness together.

Recently I’ve found myself returning to “morning practices” with more deliberateness. This is a phrase that I learned through Art of Hosting. It’s the stuff that often happens before the planned sessions. Meditations. Walks. Yoga. Breath. For me, I typically have a better day when I’ve made space for slowness:

• Meditation (15-20 minutes); This is the one that most teaches me about going slow. I set a timer so that I don’t have to look at the clock. I sit in a chair. Sometimes eyes closed. Sometimes open. My mind will wander. Sometimes wonder if I forgot to set the timer because time feels expanded. This is the best signal of benefit. It’s only 15 minutes. And yet, perceptually, it feels like more. What an important interrupter of all that speed.

Living with rush, all of the time, is painful. And wierdly addicting. Sometimes, I like the adrenaline hit of it all. But it is a punishing disposition, I find, to feel always behind and always rushed. There’s more joy to reclaim in the slowing down, and, in the slowing down that ironically creates speeding up with more clarity.

Thx for reading. And perhaps experimenting with some slow.

From the collection, Ask Me, Stafford writes of the stories that we hold together with a few dear ones, and of how we move ourselves to the next stories. It’s a theme I find calling to me. I often ask Dana, “What is the simple story here?” It’s our version of seeing the “stars move.”

For inspiration.

Our Story
William Stafford

Remind me again — together we
trace our strange journey, find
each other, come on laughing.
Some time we’ll cross where life
ends. We’ll both look back
as far as forever, that first day.
I’ll touch you — a new world then.
Stars will move a different way.
We’ll both end. We’ll both begin.

Remind me again.

A nod to James Crews, whose musings in The Weekly Pause are stirring and affirming some of the practices and ways of being that I’m most drawn to.

Deep Listening
James Crews

Listening is just a way of going still,
so I can hear the slightest sounds
all around me. The house breathing
on its own, the machine we call
the air exchange doing its unsung work
of bringing fresh air into each room,
then gently shutting off. My husband’s
footfalls crossing the floor above,
low voices of a documentary left
playing on TV. Isn’t this listening too,
waiting for our lives to speak to us? 
Rustle of my flannel shirt as I pull it on,
button it up, listening so far back
I remember a time when I couldn’t
do this myself and had to ask my mother
for help. How she knelt on the floor
in front of me until we were face to face,
and she tugged each tiny button
through its proper hole, her hands
making quick work of keeping me warm,
making my world whole again.

Waiting for our lives to speak to us. Yes, listening.

His words point me back to journal reflections this morning, part of my ongoing commitment to integration and presence. “Accepting what is” as I’ve felt the last 10 days pass as if a blink. “Accepting what is” as I’ve mapped out my day today, my doings, with some kindness and commitment.

• Personal Integrating + Presence (journal, exercise bike, meditation, this blog);
• Learning + Growing (two calls with colleagues);
• Nourishment + Tending (breakfast, light task stuff);
• Cultivation + Syncing (another call with someone interested in my programs);
• Integration + Presencing, Continued (maybe a short walk, some other email tending);
• Projects + Planning (today, a poetry publication)
• Physical Vessel Attention (yes, this is exercise and stretching — at this age of life, I find it has to be deliberate)
• Nourishment + Tending, Continued (dinner, some other light tucking / tending):
• Conversations + Life (an open space for choices, play, walk with my Sweetie, watching a documentary / historical fiction on John Adams

Listening in all of it. As always, it’s quite a thing to give ourselves to all of that inner and all of that outer. That point to accepting. That point to celebrating.

You know, I love living amidst a network of Circle Practitioners. Some are friends. Some are colleagues. Some or fellow seekers. Some are curious onlookers. Some are all.

My friend Jenny (thx Jenny) recently sent this little Circle prompt. Comes from Carrie Newcomer.

I’m gonna try it — maybe in a scheme with Jenny.

🙂

Community Creative Project

Prompt: 

Write a Series of Five or Six Postcards (short, a couple of sentences) To Someone Who Has Made A Positive Impact On Your Life. This can be to a person you know, an ancestor to whom you feel connected, an author, a poet, a 1st grade teacher, a dog, a person you only met once….but it should be a person that made some large or small positive impact. 

Sharing: 

Share 1 or 2 of these Postcards with the group. I think this will be very creative and fun to see who we each choose to write our postcards, and what we say.