The Power of Silence
I’m packing to head off the Reader’s Studio – an annual get-together of tarot professionals, readers, authors, deck creators, artists, and more. I can’t wait to get there. It’s going to be such a fun break from work as it’s been lately – an endless string of controversies, conference calls, angry public comments, conflicts, spreadsheets ad infinitum, document reviews, and, well, yuck. I can’t wait to get on that plane and just curl up with my Kindle and puzzle book :D I really thought about completely leaving my laptop behind this time, but since I’m taking most of next week off too, that just isn’t… in the cards.
One of the neat things about this conference is a pre-conference workshop Thursday evening called The Power of Silence. We have no idea what it’s going to be about, but the title was intriguing enough that I had to sign up for it. I’ve been thinking about what it might mean…
Could be, given the nature of the conference, that it’s all about silencing the noise of everyday life (see above) to be more in touch with your own intuition, the greater Universe, and the people you’re working with.
Could be that it’s about going within oneself with no particular purpose, simply to explore and see what there is to find, to better know oneself and take the time for inner personal reflection and growth. I don’t know how many of us consciously take time out for this in life.
Could be that it’s about observation, being in the now, and being silent so as to better see and experience what is going on around you, and what life has to offer.
Could be that it’s a tool, such as is often used in mediation, to allow one’s client the time to reflect and speak for herself, and for you, as the reader, to not impose your own views. This will be a useful reminder for me in many ways.
Could be that it’s more esoteric than all of these, that it links to the four principles of Western Mysticism – To Know, To Dare, To Will, To Keep Silent. Keeping silent being often associated with the High Priestess and the knowledge behind the veil, the collective unconscious.
Now it’s time for me to Keep Silent and make my way to New York :) See you, my friends, soon!
Life as an adventure, Part II
It all started to really come clear for me when I and some friends went up to Breitenbush for a few days – a wellness community in the mountains of Oregon with hot springs, their own geothermal and hydro energy, vegan food, yoga classes, etc :) This was a long-awaited trip, but difficult in some ways. None of us are great travellers – it was a long drive and right in the middle of a heat wave. It was 102 degrees in the mountains at 5pm when we arrived! It didn’t cool off until after 1am and in the meantime, Kelcey and I both had bad migraines from the heat. I was berating myself about what I had gotten myself into, and how I was ever going to get them home again (since the next day was supposed to be even hotter and they don’t drive much). I felt responsible, and that I had failed my friends (or my body had). Never mind that they weren’t in any better shape.
But we went out after dark and walked the labyrinth, and when I reached the center I prayed to the elemental gods for it to cool off, just a bit. I talked things over with Maureen all night, and sometime late, some part of me just let go. I said, “maybe I’ll just get some rest now and see how it is in the morning.” And in the morning… it was still hot, but just a little bit cooler. And I sat in the shade, and read tarot cards, and dipped in a warm tub then a cold tub, and cooled off. And ate some of the best vegan food I have ever had in my life, and listened to the wooden flute playing somewhere in the forest, and relaxed. And then we went out very late at night and sat in the hot springs, though it was still really too warm.
And then we drove home, and all was well. And Maureen said… “It’s all part of the journey.” Or I did, I can’t remember. Until now, that phrase hasn’t had much meaning for me, seeming like one of those new age things that people say. But if you look at life, it’s so full of difficulties with little moments of grace woven in, and joys with little elements of sadness intertwined, that each moment is a new discovery – and both the good and the bad are equal parts of the journey, each to be experienced on its own, and each only temporary. The next moment may be better, or worse – and there’s only one way to find out…
So, the adventure of life, like walking a trail. The days with migraines are like slogging up a steep trail in the heat of midday, exhausted and wondering why you are doing this and when the misery will end. Then even in the midst of this with aching feet and back – a gorgeous vista, glimpsed around a corner, or a rare bird flitting across one’s path. Like the flocks of orange butterflies at Breitenbush feeding on the sulfur springs. Accomplishments – reaching the summit of a trail – only to find there’s more to do and hills still to climb. The downward part of the trail into a lush, cool valley with springs and streams – the nap in my hammock with a cool breeze and my cat curled up at my side. Days of walking, picking out the plants along the trail and interesting geology along the way – being engaged in one’s life and work and having everything go relatively smoothly. Putting up the tent, rolling out the sleeping bag, packing up in the morning, all the little chores of life that are done, over and over and over again, but bring some measure of satisfaction in doing them well.
These are my philosophies now – living even more in the moment. Sometimes you just have to start up that trail, not knowing if you have the strength to finish, and see what the journey brings. Even if the worst happens there are new experiences to savor and memories you couldn’t have had any other way – and often, it works out great, and you would have sure missed those things if you hadn’t tried at all. And absolutely no point in worrying about how things will go or what will come next, because at least now, for a while, it seems utterly unpredictable.
Every day is an adventure…
Notice I didn’t say what KIND of adventure :D Because every day is different – heck, every hour is different. Life right now is so full of ups and downs, set-backs and challenges, things to look forward to, things to worry about, romance, frustration, technical difficulties, and immense amounts of work and stress, that things never seem to be the same from moment to moment. One minute I am strong, productive and capable, an hour later I am down with a migraine worrying about how I will ever meet all my work responsibilities this summer. Two hours later I am up again, puttering around the house doing chores, which makes me feel better again – to have everything in order and be able to take care of these basic things. The next morning, I may feel better – or worse. Who knows? Sometimes it depends on the weather (literally).
The latest things are a really mixed bag. My eyes have started to see double on the freeway, which sent me to the optometrist (where I haven’t been for more than 10 years, having had perfect eyesight pretty much most of my life). Two small astigmatisms and minor nearsightedness later, she thinks that’s the cause – so I am waiting for driving glasses, and in the meantime not able to see properly – not fun when you’re working on data constantly. That plus migraines is creating a real struggle for getting all my work done.
On the plus side, I’m starting an exciting new business (see below) and all kinds of synchronicities are popping up to support it. I have been asked to moderate a panel of speakers at a public conference in September, where we can publicly launch our business among just about the perfect audience – oddly enough at the same conference I launched my last successful business at 9 years ago. I am getting into the thick of the Hanford natural resource trustee mediation that is coming up in August, and that should be a good challenge.
My love life is looking up – I finally get to have a real relationship instead of a long-distance one. I’m enjoying it so much – and yet the timing couldn’t be worse, since I am busier with work than I have been in 10 years. It’s hard to have a retired friend who wants to take you sailing when you have to stay home and work :( Still, I’m not complaining. And even this is an adventure – having both just come out of long marriages, we’re not ready to define the boundaries of our relationship. But we sure are enjoying it :) And with all the talking and thinking we’ve done about relationships over the last several years (much of which is recorded on these pages), we’re OK with keeping it fluid.
Back on the not-so-great side of the ledger, my elderly grandparents are having a really difficult time health-wise since their move into a retirement home. The place is really nice, we are all happy with it. But their health has really taken a turn for the worse and it’s not clear that they can keep living on the independent side. My mom has been over there every day trying to help with medication, finances, etc., but there may be only so much we can do before they get moved into assisted living, if they can’t take care of themselves on a daily basis. This would be a huge blow for them, but the current situation is hard on my mom, and what limited time I have I am doing my best to give her a break. The good part is they are much closer now so if we can ever get them settled in and healthy, we’ll all get to visit a lot more.
I’ve been upgrading my computer – hardware and software, 10 years of projects moved on to a new machine with a different operating system. The less said about that the better. Except that it cost me a lot of needed time, at a time when I didn’t have it to spare – yet it had to be done to do my current work. And the good side – I solved all the problems myself, even if it did take 5 days to get them all. From what I’ve been reading about Vista online – that’s not bad. And it’s the first time I’ve been able to undertake and complete a project like that without help.
Wow. Is that enough or what? This is all leading to developing some kind of philosophy of life. More on that in Part 2.
How do you decide?
When to jump? When to make some major life decision whose outcome can’t be predicted, and afterwards your whole life will be different? We only get a few chances to make these changes, when all the events in our lives line up in such a way that we’re free to choose, or allow ourselves to be. Changing careers, making a choice to be married or single or married again, moving to another country. All possible, all with unanticipated endings. Sure, we can plan – make it easier or harder on ourselves by getting some idea what we’re in for. But in the end, it’s a leap of faith.
The questions are unanswerable. If I move to Central America, how much will I really need to live on? Can I make that much online? How will it feel when all the friends I know are here and I am there? Can I really learn the language quickly and make new friends? Will some of my friends and family actually visit, or not? Will I like the climate, be fascinated by the birds, love the slower pace of life, find enough to do? Will I really be in better shape and enjoy the walks into town to buy food, or will I hate the inconvenience? Will I die of loneliness, wish I had never left – or love it? How can I possibly know these things ahead of time?
I feel stuck in a cycle of expensive mortgage requiring endless work in a high-paying job. There’s no way to live decently as a single person in the US without spending too much money. But if I leave, I can’t make as much. Will I come out ahead, or will it just even out? Just looking at it from here, it looks like it would work. But if it doesn’t – then what? Start all over back in the US? Am I feeling stuck here for no reason? Lots of people write that it’s easier than it looks – of course, those are the ones for whom it worked out.
So many of my friends are going through similar dilemmas in other areas of their lives. Not the same issues at all – but the same problem of choosing without knowing, when the consequences are so great. What seems most likely is that it will be nothing at all like we expect – maybe much better, maybe worse. Paralyzed with indecision. But at least we’re trying to make a decision – then there are all the people who simply dismiss dreams or plans like this as impossible, not applying to them in any way.
And what about those who are just content? Will I ever be content, or am I one of these people that’s impossible to please? Am I justified in hating all that the US stands for in the world and not wanting my tax dollars to support that, or is that just a convenient justification for making changes, any changes, in my life? Am I missing some big issue that if I could resolve, I wouldn’t need to make all these other changes?
I don’t know. Questions without answers.
Meditations on water levels in a glass
I was at a lecture tonight about women and fatigue that was actually quite interesting. Being taught by a doctor, it was not at all what I expected, but rather about how we think about ourselves and our relationships with others affects what we do, which affects how tired we are. Gist for a later post – but at some point in the talk she used that old cliche about the glass being half empty or half full.
Immediately I could hear my mind objecting – no, it isn’t one or the other, it’s BOTH! I had to laugh – I’m so sick of that quote. A while back I did some internet dating, and you can’t imagine how often it comes up in profiles – guys describing themselves as a glass-half-full kinda guy, or wanting a glass-half-full woman. Why can’t they just say they’re looking for a woman who approaches the world with a consistently positive attitude? It got to be almost as bad as the “long romantic walks on the beach” – something that would make you cringe and quickly move on to the next profile :D
But on the drive home I was pondering why it is that I find this question impossible to answer. I truly can’t think of it one way or the other – it’s neither – or both. In actual fact, the water in the glass is at the exact midway point between the state of being empty and the state of being full. And, the two states aren’t different – they’re exactly the same.
Is this just me? Am I really so middle-of-the-road that I can’t see it one way or the other? Or is it the scientific side of me that insists on an accurate definition and the congruency of the two states? Or is the mediator side of me that can see it both ways simultaneously? Perhaps its that I know that anyone answering this question knows WHY they’re answering it, and I question anyone’s ability to be truly objective. I mean, who wants to be known as a glass-half-empty kind of gal?
What keeps popping into my head is that it’s really a matter of context. If someone’s pouring water into my glass, then it’s half full. If I’m drinking water out of it, it’s half empty. Context matters. Like my bank account these last six months – I’ve had a pretty scary run of contracts not starting up when they were supposed to, and having to deplete my savings well below the halfway point just to live. On the way down, my bank account was definitely half-empty. When I start earning back the money to replenish it again, it will be half-full.
It strikes me that being consistently one way or the other is really neither sensible nor normal. If you’re always optimistic (naively deluded, some might say) you may not protect yourself well enough by buying insurance, saving for retirement, wearing a seat-belt, etc. If you’re consistently pessimistic, you may be depressed enough to need counseling, and have low self-esteem and health problems.
I think I like being in the middle – prepare for the worst and hope for the best :) So I guess I’m a middle-of-the-glass kinda gal!
Reaching the end of life with grace
More photos from Hawaii… this is my friend Rick and his aunt Dorothy, 99 years old and much of the reason we were in Hawaii. Rick is managing her affairs as she approaches the end of her life, and there is a lot to do just now.
Aside from all that paperwork and occasional trips to the beach, maybe one of the most interesting parts of the trip was our talks with Dorothy. She’s in assisted living now, a really nice place on the windward side of Oahu, basically a little house with only eight residents, looks brand-new with live-in care. She’s lost much of her short-term memory and really isn’t sure how she got there, though she can reason it out – she hasn’t lost any of her smarts or personality.
She was really glad to see us, Rick especially, as she always seems to remember who he is. Mostly she was just happy to have someone to ask questions of and get straight answers, even if she couldn’t always remember the answers from one conversation to the next – although it may not be through conventional memory, I had the strong feeling that on some level, she was gaining a sense of calm from the discussion. We spent most of the first visit explaining how she got there and why she was there, what was happening to her condo in Honolulu, what her physical and mental health were like, and where she would be living from then on.
On the second visit, she seemed to have progressed from those issues to end-of-life issues. She told us many times that she didn’t expect to be here long, and she was ready to go. When Rick asked her how she felt about that, she said it felt natural, that she didn’t feel any anxiety or fear about it. Her main concern was being buried on the family farm in Oregon, together with the rest of the family and with her family name displayed. She enjoyed being out in nature and in the sun, as one of the few things now that were really worth spending time doing. Both of us were struck by how important this was, as she lives in the moment now, to make sure that as many of her moments that are left are spent outside enjoying nature and beautiful surroundings.
She knows her life is not what it used to be and doesn’t see much purpose in remaining, but it seems she’s taking that in stride – since it is what it is, she’s ready to accept it. There was a grace and naturalness to her thoughts that I appreciated. I hope very much that I can be of that calm and natural state of mind when I approach the end of my life, with grace and acceptance. I hope it comes easily to her, quietly in her sleep, when she chooses to move on. There’s a lot to admire about this woman’s life, not least exemplified by its ending.
In search of the now
One of the things I have been frequently reminded of over the last few years is the need to live in the now, and how amazingly hard that can be. We all know how much time we spend thinking about the past, and planning for, or worrying about, the future. All of this at the expense of the now, which is of course, all there really is. The past is unchangeable, and the future may look nothing like we imagine.
The other night I was reading a chapter in a book on mediation about how meditation helps prepare one for mediation by teaching you to be fully present in the now. This is critical in a mediation because of the need to keep constant tabs on the ebb and flow of energies in the room, the responses and reactions of all the participants, and all factual and emotional details you are trying to keep track of. If you let your mind wander, you’re sunk, and valuable opportunities could be lost.
So as I’m reading this chapter, the author keeps yanking me back to the present by asking questions like “what were you thinking about as you read that last page?” Over and over I realized I was not in the moment with this book. I was worrying about what a friend was going to do in the future, and I couldn’t seem to stop. I finally put the book down and went to sleep, when it became clear I wasn’t getting full value out of it.
Later, I got to thinking about when I’m good at being in the now, and when I’m not. During mediations I don’t really have a problem with it – they’re so compelling they hold your interest like little else. Other times – watching a movie, reading a book (fiction – which for me is a lot like watching a movie), having an intense conversation with a friend, making love, being in nature and/or traveling to a new place, sitting in the hot tub, cooking and enjoying great food, petting the cat, yoga, playing games with friends… those are all things that keep me firmly in the now.
Sadly, work is not one of those things, unless it’s really difficult. My mind seems to constantly wander. Any kind of chores, exercise, all lead to avoidance by escaping into the past or future. That’s not really good – if I could learn to be present while exercising, maybe I would find a way to like it more. And procrastinate less with work and chores.
Then there’s relationships. Soooo much thinking about the past and future, over the last few years. Perhaps exacerbated by being in a long-distance relationship for so long in which there was way more time to think in between visits than to actually get to enjoy it. I invested so much in that… in spite of all my efforts had really high hopes and expectations, which made the loss so much harder.
Going through that roller-coaster of emotions has left me in an interesting state. I have been noticing lately that I am much more capable of just being present with someone, even someone with romantic possibilities – and even with the person that I hoped for so greatly. Not worrying about what else they’ve been doing, not wondering where we’re going from here, just enjoying being with them or talking with them. It’s really a nice feeling and a place I’d like to be for a while. This is a true gift that I gained from that experience, and its nice to feel I have learned something about how to be present in relationships. I hope it lasts!
The Metaphysics of Mediation
It’s interesting how the further I get into mediation, the more I read about advanced mediation techniques that are very metaphysical. People who are otherwise hard-headed negotiators talk about directing energy flow in the room, extending a space of love to encompass angry people, centering and creating a calm presence that flows to the participants, and other descriptions of what the mediator does that were very unexpected to me when I first started hearing them – especially considering the very businesslike, straight-laced looking people that I was hearing them from.
There are many zen-like discussions of how the mediator creates their own sense of centeredness and shuts out the distracting business and emotions of everyday life before the mediation, so that they can offer this groundedness to the participants from the start. Yet, what is more interesting to me is what happens during the mediation.
So many people come into the room expecting to convince us of one particular reality. Frequently we find ourselves wondering privately what the “truth” of the situation is, even though it’s not our job to identify the truth (unlike a judge or arbitrator), or you might say, to select among the possible truths. Instead, I have come to believe that it is our job to hear and support the two different realities that we know will be present in the room – to hold them in our hands and minds simultaneously as equally valid, equally real to those who hold them – no matter how crazy they sound to us, or how irreconcilable they are. Because it’s been my observation that when the mediators can do this, they are trusted, and the space becomes safer for both participants.
The safe space that is created then provides the opportunity for each person’s reality to shift toward the other’s. Sometimes this doesn’t happen, and then the mediator simply listens very carefully to identify whether there is enough overlap in the realities as they stand to reach an agreement. One might think that one has to first arrive at the truth to agree on what needs to be done, but this isn’t the case at all. As long as the agreement works within each person’s reality, it will survive. Sometimes, this feels like threading a needle or finding the pinpoint of overlap in widely divergent circles.
All the better though, if the comfort level increases to the point where the participants can start to shift their realities toward the other person. When that happens, it just becomes all the easier to craft an agreement – since now there is greater overlap and greater opportunity. This is where transformative mediation occurs – the opportunity to mend relationships and set the stage for healing and progress in the future – so important in cases of child custody, which is a large percentage of what we do.
Recently, I’ve been reading about the trickster archetype (shapeshifter, prankster, reality twister, gift-bringer) in relation to the role of the mediator, a fascinating subject which will have to wait for another post :)
Bringing Peace into the Room
They say that what separates a good mediator from a great one is a quality of self-reflection; an ability to look within and continuously evaluate not only one’s performance, but one’s character. It’s an interesting concept, that after all the training and in addition to all the practice and continuous skill-building, there’s a third element – almost like the “zen” of mediation – that only comes with a great deal of time and thought.
This include qualities like being able to hold two fundamentally incompatible realities in your hands at once and nurture them both, allowing them to co-exist and building bridges between them. Caring for all the participants in the room, even if, or especially if, they are being difficult, uncooperative, angry #*$(#s – after all, something about this situation has caused a perfectly normal person to act this way. Some mediators speak of building metaphysical connections between all the participants through their heart chakras. There’s a wide variation in how each person conceptualizes it, but it really does make a difference. You can feel it in the room and in how people respond to the mediators and each other.
I found this excerpt from a book with the same title as this blog entry, written by Daniel Bowling and David Hoffman, about the personal qualities of the mediator that impact the process of conflict resolution. This is about the nature of conflict and mediation itself:
Conflicts, like dreams, are made of desires and fears, honesty and deceit, passion and surrender, all of which lie beneath the surface and are revealed through a mediator’s questions. Our willingness to answer these same questions ourselves gives us permission to search for the piercing, pivotal, dangerous moments that can change people’s lives, and the courage to seek them out, even in our own lives.
We are privileged observers, intrepid explorers, and in some cases skillful navigators, of the tides and currents, forces and fields, twists and turns that intersect, overflow, and silently meander through the conflicts we mediate. We are better able to hear and help others navigate these tides and currents if we are able to hear and help ourselves.
Just a few thoughts to ponder on this Saturday morning.
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