Excuse Me, But Do I Know You?

I’m sitting here this morning, typing this blog post and finding myself wondering about something that, admittedly, I’ve wondered about a fair bit in the last few months.  In really general terms, the topic which has my mind so preoccupied much of the time (although not all of the time) is that of technology and it’s ever-evolving role in our world.  On the surface, the emergence of various technological tools and mediums seems like progress; today, you can easily correspond and connect with someone on the other side of the world in a matter of seconds, using various internet tools such as skype, twitter or just standard email.  Just a few decades ago, such instant connection was impossible.  Provided the basic technology is present, no matter where you are in 2010, you are pretty much guaranteed to be able to connect with the outside world.   Which means — or at least seems to mean — that we are a highly connected world.  But this is where I question what others might find logical.

You see, while it looks like we have the means to be connected in ways never-before possible, what I know for sure is that this technologically-based way of connecting has a superficiality about it.  When your only means of interacting with the outside world is through typing, texting or even chatting via phone, as a human being you are missing the very important — and I would argue essential — element of physical connection.  Being able to see another person, experience their energy first-hand, give them a hug, shake their hand — these are not mere enhancements to communication and the human experience.  Instead, they are integral components of said experience.

Now, I know, many of you would argue that you’re still in physical contact with some of the world at large.  Furthermore, new technological advances are allowing you and I to interact in an immediate way with populations that would never have been possible even 30 years ago.  I get it.  My concern — or at least my question — however, is to what degree is this new technology impacting real human relationships?  What I witness out there in the world is that techno-based communication isn’t limited to work-exchanges.  Instead, texting, emailing, etc; are equally present in personal relationships.  So what arises for me is the following curiousity:  when you’ve spent the better part of your day involved in text and email exchanges with someone, is that level of connection as meaningful as even an hour’s worth of face-to-face interaction?

I guess what it comes down to for me is this:  I see us living in a world where the illusion of being perpetually connected has people — you, me, the neighbors — ignoring some of the essentials of the human connecting experience.  Handshakes, smiles (real, not those expressed with punctuation), hugs, physical presence are all experiences that augment our human connection with one another.  My invitation and request of all of us is that we challenge ourselves to stay physically connected, at least with a core group of people.  And furthermore, it’s my belief that such connective exchanges be present on a daily basis.  Otherwise, despite the number of texts and emails you receive, I would suggest that you’re actually moving into an isolated existence, the exact opposite of a truly connected one.

An Anchor? Or a Dead Weight?

Today’s blog entry feels like it’s going to be a metaphor-filled one.  Not a bad thing — I just can’t let go of the nautical visual.

When it comes to living life on your terms, my personal perspective is that having an anchoring belief can serve you really well.  After all, the business of living life really can feel like being on a storm-tossed sea at times.  And knowing that you’ve got a solid anchor keeping you safe — keeping you from drifting too far out — can be reassuring to say the least.  That being said, I’m getting curious about the difference between an anchor and a dead weight.  Both are heavy, both will keep you from drifting, both will prevent you from venturing too far.  The former, however, feels like it serves in some way; the latter, feels like it holds you back, right?  So this has me asking:  are your anchoring thoughts really anchoring?  Or are they holding you back, stopping you from moving forward?

I guess what I’m realizing is that an anchor can actually be both.  Given it’s weight, an anchor can absolutely hold you back, keep you from moving to calmer seas as it were.  In light of this, the important thing isn’t the anchor so much (at least not in this moment); the important thing is being certain that the sea you’re anchored in is actually the sea that you want to be in.  If it’s not — if you’re floating along in a sea of negativity and lack — then it may be time to cut your ties with the anchor that has you stuck.  In the context of life, such an anchor is most likely a limiting belief, a paralyzing thought.  Letting go of this thought or belief is what will allow you to move to another sea altogether — a calmer, bluer, clearer sea.  And once you’ve found a new sea, you can anchor yourself with a new thought.

So I guess this leaves me asking the following questions, both of you and of myself:  what sea are you anchored in?  How’s that working for you?  And if it’s not working the way you want, how willing are  you to release the anchor-turned-dead-weight and find a new anchor?  What I know for sure is that sometimes, you’ve got to let go of  an old anchor before you can sail a new sea.

A New Way to be With Anger

Just the other day I had the experience of bearing witness to someone being really angry.  Their anger was written all over their face, and the words, tone and body language which they used to express themselves left the recipient of their anger cowering — that’s the best word to describe what I saw.  It was an exchange between two adults.  And in fairness, to the best of my knowledge, the anger was absolutely justified, nothing misplaced about it.  The question that arose for me, and the one that I’ve been sitting with since, is this:  what’s the best way to be with anger?  Both for myself when I’m angry, and for myself when someone’s angry with me.  Is there a way that anger can be used productively?

Those of you who know me, either personally or through my blog or newsletter, know that I’m a big advocate of honesty and of “messy conversations.”  I’m all for expressing what you’re feeling truthfully, allowing things to get uncomfortable, pushing through that discomfort and then coming out on the other side of the conversation richer for the experience.  That being said, there are a couple of things that need to be present before such a meaningful (albeit “icky”) exchange can happen.

First, there needs to be a trust and understanding between the parties involved that everyone wants the same ultimate outcome.  Perhaps its high-quality care for an aging parent, saving for a child’s education, or even simply open, honest communication at all times.  Whatever the desired outcome, on some level everyone involved must know that they’re on the same page, that they’re wanting the same thing, even as they come at it from different perspectives.

Second, there needs to be an acceptance that anger as an emotion is not bad. There needs to be an understanding that anger — when expressed constructively, with a view to resolving a situation (as opposed to simply venting) — can be extremely constructive, as opposed to filled with judgment and shame.  Anger can move people and motivate people to try options that they wouldn’t ordinarily try.  As an example, years ago, a local newspaper refused to print a story about life coaching during International Coaching Awareness Week.  I was so angry with what I experienced as their “close-mindedness” that I called the local television station to see if they would do a spot around coaching.  They did, and I made an amazing media contact.  What I know for sure is that I wouldn’t have contacted the television station in the first place had I not been angry with the newspaper to begin with.

Finally, all parties involved need to stay open and engaged in the discussion, particularly when it’s happening in an environment of anger.  When you are angry and simply yelling, spewing and possibly getting violent (an extreme example, but a real possibility) you are not open or engaged in discussion; you are simply venting.  And when you are doing the equivalent of going inward and shutting out the person expressing anger, you are also not engaged; you are simply waiting for the tirade to stop.  Being open and engaged in the discussion requires you to be aware of your feelings — anger, fear, frustration, whatever — and continually monitoring, expressing and listening so that you can move towards a mutually acceptable solution.  Tearing a strip off of someone, putting them in their place, demeaning and shaming them rarely (if ever) moves a situation forward constructively.

Understand, sometimes, you will need to vent.  You will inadvertently tear a strip off someone, shame them, or ridicule them.  You will get loud; you might even pound a pillow.  These things happen.  What I’m asking you to get — and what I’m realizing afresh — is that these expressions of anger aren’t what serve relationships.  So if in fact you’ve expressed your anger in this way, you must be prepared to invest time and energy in expressing it yet again, this time in a more constructive way, namely by engaging in a conversation or two with the the following three factors in place first:  basic trust and understanding of motive; a knowledge that anger is not a judgment or shame-based; an openness to stay engaged and moving forward.

Bottom-line:  anger can be a very constructive emotion.  It’s just time for us to find a new way to be with anger, a way that recognizes its power, and a way that’s rooted in respect overall.

How Do You Feel About Your Heart?

No, I’m not talking about the health of your heart, at least not in the medical sense.  Instead, I’m talking about your heart as a guide, or a compass, when it comes to living your life.  You see, your heart is a vital playing piece in the game of life.  Not only does it have an essential physical role — let’s face it, if your heart ain’t pumpin’, you ain’t livin’ — it also has a somewhat informational role.  In this capacity, your heart can often tell you what choices to make that will serve you and YOUR life well.

The heart differs from the brain in this capacity.  The brain is susceptible to the ideas and thoughts of the world around you.  As a result, when you rely strictly on your brain for guidance, you often find yourself living your life according to other people’s rules and regulations.  The brain absorbs what it’s told, and too often we allow others to do the telling, without screening what is told through our own filter.  The heart, however, only resonates with the things that are true for you.  When you start to pay attention to your heart, you’ll see what I’m talking about.  When you find something that you love, your heart responds with an aliveness, a welling up of excitement.  When you find something that doesn’t fit for you, your heart seems to shrink and resist.  In other words, your heart is in many ways a better guide when it comes to choosing and decision-making as it relates to your life, because it’s not likely to be influenced by the choices of others — the heart wants what the heart wants.

The challenge, of course, is that we live  in a world that has somehow come to value the brain over the heart.  In fact just yesterday I was engaged in a conversation with someone and we were debating the merits of a particular course of action.  She and I were (at least on the surface) on opposite sides of the fence, and I shared that from a really truthful place, my choice was based on where my heart was leading me.  Her response was, “Yeah, well I’m rarely led by my heart.”

What I know from my experience (both this recent one and past exchanges) is that the idea of following one’s heart is often seen as soft, and wishy-washy, when compared with following one’s brain.  Indeed the intellect (i.e., the brain) is often given more value than the emotions (i.e., the heart).  What I also know, however, is that when it comes right down to it, your heart will rarely steer you wrong.  If you’re truly wanting to live your life on your terms, knowing where your heart is at is vital.  Your brain can absolutely have a say. In fact, using your heart and brain simultaneously can be a magical thing.  I guess what I really want is for people to stop ruling out the heart’s opinion altogether.

Bottom-line:  your heart will always lead you to the path that’s right for you.  So, let me ask you, how do you feel about your heart?

Are You Telling Your Story? Or Theirs?

This past week I had the glorious opportunity to just sit back, relax, reflect and reconnect — with myself, my family, my friends.  It was March Break here in Southwestern Ontario, Canada, and the weather was more appropriate to the month of May than mid-March.  Sunny, balmy, fresh — it was absolutely delightful.

The weeks preceding my break were hectic and crazy to say the least.  So much going on in the world of work, plus a whack of personal curve balls that had me getting less sleep than I need, and really expending a lot of energy as I strove to deliberately stay in the place of peace, rather than allowing myself to be propelled into some version of hell.  Needless to say, I welcomed last week with open arms, and a commitment to just allow things to move slowly.

Slowly but surely, as the week unfolded, I reconnected with my inner voice, my higher self.  I could actually hear my own questions and the corresponding answers.  In a rather surreal way, I started to enjoy the juxtaposition of being completely immersed in each and every moment, and standing outside myself and bearing witness to my thoughts and choices — this is what happens for me, when I allow myself to become still, even if only for a while.

As I started to watch and listen, I became more aware of my response to others — the interpretations I make, the stories I assume, the way in which I sometimes take another person’s outlook and internalize it myself, thereby making it my own.  This whole thing fascinated me, because I started to realize that I’ve got a lot of personal stories that really aren’t so personal — they belong to others and I’ve taken them on.  For example, somewhere along the line I internalized a storyline that says failure is bad.  When someone fails, he or she is a bad person.  On closer reflection, however, what I know for sure is that this is not my story.  My story is that failure serves; failure is needed to move forward to a success.  Success is actually born out of failure — at least to some degree.  And knowing that this is my story, not the former, allows me a new perspective on whatever so-called “failures” I’m experiencing in any given moment.  I’m no longer a bad person — I’m a person moving towards success.

This whole exercise of separating my stories from the internalized stories of others is simply about heightening my awareness.  This isn’t about judging myself for taking on another’s story, or about judging another for having a different story.  Instead, it’s about separating my stories from those of others and knowing what stuff belongs to me, and what stuff I can comfortably release.  It’s really about unearthing my own personal truth.

Because what I know for sure is that owning and telling my own story, rather than unconsciously internalizing someone else’s story serves my circumstance better.  Allowing other people to have their stories, and allowing myself to have a different one is part of what allows each of us to have our own process and grow as we’re meant to.  So the next time you find yourself telling a story, ask yourself: is this actually your story?  And if your answer is “no”, give yourself some time to unearth your own story so you can start living more resonantly.  More authentically.  More freely.  This what I learned during my break.

Learning to Make Lemonade

When I think of summer, I often think of lemonade — a nice, thirst-quenching, icy-cold glass of pure yum.  I will confess that I rarely make it from scratch — frozen concentrate works quite well for my children’s lemonade stands.  But I do know that the “from scratch” recipe isn’t that hard; essentially, it’s lemon juice, water and sugar (as well as ice, to give it that essential coolness).

This morning, I was reminded by a colleague that “when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade” — and this old adage got me thinking.  In the context of life, when life provides the lemons what are the life equivalents of water, sugar and ice?  Given that I’ve got a few lemons being handed to me right now, this seems like a good question for me to ponder.  Here’s what I’ve come up with.

Life lemonade is made up of the lemons that life provides, as well as plenty of openness (water), and trust (sugar).  The openness on your part is absolutely required — it makes the pure lemon juice more palatable, even without sugar.  And the openness is about having both an open heart, and an open mind.  When making life’s lemonade, it’s essential for you to be open to the idea that something good can and will get created, or at least emerge, from the lemons.

The sweetness of the beverage is provided by trust.  If you’re going to make life lemonade, you’ve got to trust that the universe isn’t handing you anything you can’t handle, and that you’ve got the  creative genius to end up with something that serves.  When you stand in the place of trust, you willingly let go of the control demons that can make any situation sour, and allow the lemons to be transformed into something that’s more than simply palatable (which is what happens when you add the openness, aka water) — it’s down-right pleasant.

So now, you’ve got a beverage that’s almost perfect. It’s just not cold enough.  And if you want it to be cold — you’ve got to add the element of time.  That’s right, give it time to chill.  It’s funny that in colloquial terms, the word “chill” means to “relax”.  If you’re making life lemonade, you’ve got to relax and allow time for the perfect beverage to brew.

Bottom-line is this:  if life hands you lemons, you can end up with a really good, life-enhancing lemonade.  All you’ve got to do is add the right amount of openness, trust and time, and all will be well.  The metaphor seems to fit for me right now.  Here’s hoping it works for you.

The Point of Power is Right Now

You know, this is something I’ve been aware of for a while now…and yet, it still catches me off guard from time-to-time.  It’s as though I’ve spent so many years either analyzing the past or trying to manipulate the future, that the business of staying right here in the present moment can be more than a little challenging.  Let’s face it; for me it can be down-right paralyzing!

I believe I first read this phrase, “the point of power is right now”, in one of Louise Hay’s books.  But I’ve since been confronted by variations on this theme wherever I turn.  A number of recent “daily affirmations” have pointed to this universal truth; several authors which I’m currently reading have expounded upon this.  And I guess what I’m coming to realize is that there really is no way around it — no matter what I want, no matter what I long for, no matter what I’m trying to change in my life, I’ve got to do it from present-moment energy.  Looking backward keeps me stuck, and fast-forward motion has me spin my wheels.

One of the questions that arises for me out of all of this, however, is how to blend the past and future so that I can truly leverage the power of the present.  I mean, I know that I can learn from past experience.  And I know that to some degree  I have to know what I’m heading towards in the future.  So how do I do these two things, without losing my toehold on the present moment?  These are the questions I’m dancing with now.  And even as I write them, I have an energetic sense that the answer lies in the here and now.  Go figure.

I guess the bottom-line is this:  peace, contentment, happiness, joy — all of this stuff is to be found in this moment.  So, ultimately, if those are the things I’m wanting, then right here right now is where I’ve got to hang out.  I’m gonna give it a try.