All posts filed under: Learnings

on unions

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I’ve been appreciating unions of all sorts, lately. Union of the self’s many parts—finally, momentarily—into agreement. Re-union with friends and loved ones to celebrate birth, death, enduring loyalties, and good food (Maryland crab, true tacos, Korean BBQ, and the autumnal Brussels sprouts for which I’ve longed going on 2 years). Integration of mind, body, spirit…at least for a few days there, and I’m grateful. Coming together with families of all sorts to celebrate unions of love. A merging of what is and what could be, to—at last—catalyze change and shake things up a bit. Those unions stretch and grow and birth their natural successors in a longer cycle: partition, separation, division. And so it goes, riding the momentum I begin to separate the necessary and the true from what is inessential, extraneous, and damaging: The useless thoughts, the unclean foods, the toxic people, the burden of insecurity. It is the morning after a grand celebration; it is time to clean up, and move forward into daylight. Images from the weddings of: A close colleague, in Bamako, …

on pride, and being a Fraud Generalist

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There is a kind of pride that comes from recognition–for a job well done, or something you’ve created or produced. it’s exciting, validating, even motivating. But sometimes, in my case, that kind of pride is tainted with self-doubt. I cross my fingers hoping no one notices the cracks in the veneer, or the chips in the paint–the little defects that eat away at a sense of accomplishment. I duck out of the limelight because I figure if anyone got to the bottom of things, they’d realize i’m a Fraud Generalist at Life. It’s hard to take a big bite out of recognition; I’d rather nibble a bit, in case it turns out I don’t actually deserve what’s coming to me. But – but! – there is another sort of pride that is more buoying, and exhilarating: the pride that comes from contributing to someone else’s success. That kind of pride is my favorite, because it involves the ego-once-removed. if you’ve been a part of someone else’s journey to accomplishment, whether setting the stage, plotting the course, pushing (or …

on self knowledge and getting lost on purpose

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I asked them to go out on a limb for me. after 2 months of trainings, many Saturdays crammed into a small room with AC, learning the essentials of how to manage a field team, the final session was upon us. We had reviewed serious topics, we had loosened up with absurd charades,  we had dropped eggs from the roof to build morale. But for this last session, I asked them to forgo their notebooks, have a look inwards, and see what was written there. Early in the day I set up a hasty labyrinth in the courtyard with string, scotch tape, rocks and twigs. During the training, we talked about mindfulness, self-awareness, and the tools of meditation, and I asked for deep breaths and silence. In a wordless shuffle we headed outside, and I asked them to trust me, and to trust the labyrinth’s path. I also asked them to walk it slowly–slower than they imagined was possible. and they did. The thing about self-knowledge is that it’s floating at the surface, just near …

on failure

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The silver lining of being failed by people you care about is that you learn to count on love instead of on people. It takes time, but slowly — slowly — you learn to be buoyed along by the love that floods the universe, that shows itself around sharp corners and airlifts you to a grassy patch when things get really muddled. That sort of love occasionally prefers an 11th hour arrival.default When others fail you, know that they are simply human. And know that more love is available and on its way, packed inside molecules you’re only just about to breathe in, caked with the dirt on your shoes, dissolving in your coffee mug, transferred via secret handshake, or… riding in on a donkey cart. It’s coming, it’s coming.

on the patiences

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Question: if good things come to those who wait, does patience come as well? A new variety of patience has made itself known during the process of Growing Up. It’s distinct from Waiting Patience, as in waiting in line, waiting for dessert, waiting for a promotion, or waiting for things to come together. I call it Watching Patience, and it’s much messier and more confusing, although possibly more rewarding. It’s the patience that accompanies growth and change when they take months, years, even decades. Waiting Patience has a discernible end; Watching Patience discerns little in advance, only you imagine you’ll recognize the fruits of the process when you see them. The most striking difference between these two Patiences is the way they proceed. With Waiting Patience, you can break down the steps and be confident in your progress. Each bite of vegetables brings me closer to dessert… each step forward brings me closer to completing a marathon… each course brings me closer to a degree, and so on. But Watching Patience requires a near-impossible level …

on fences

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Been considering opposing forces, and how to navigate between them. When to embrace, when to guard against, and how to do each purposefully. Vigilance, for example, versus rest. We require both, and they require equal enthusiasm. What keeps those opposites apart? The fences that we build. And fences are tricky, tricky things. We build fences to make sense of things, to protect, and to facilitate focus. Some schools of thought say fences are healthy, even necessary; you’ve got to know where to draw lines to navigate a chaotic world. Other schools of thought say fences are but an illusion, that boundaries are crutches for coping, an alternative to digging deeper and realizing the essential–and maybe intimidating–interconnectedness of things. Another pair of opposites. I’d say fences are tools, and are at their best when acknowledged and used as such. Perhaps most important is that fences are impermanent, try as we might to make them ever-lasting. And we don’t build them–or tear them down–alone, though we might imagine otherwise. Fences are a collaboration, and none stay upright forever. they shift and are …