Polishing our Edges

Many of us are lone rangers longing for community, yet wary of being swallowed up by a group. I enjoy my solo time and working one-on-one with people. Yet a deep longing for belonging keeps me joining circles just to learn how to be in community.

My teaching partner Dan has concluded that every group, no matter what the stated common goal, is really about learning how to be oneself in a group. Spiritual teacher and right livelihood guide Rick Jarow goes on to say that work itself may be just an elaborate excuse for us to mend our common karma. My biodynamic craniosacral therapy teacher Gary names our group identity plainly: we as a training group are tending to traumas big and small held in our individual 'social nervous systems' and that of the group as a whole.

In other words, we need each other and we need practice. How else can we learn to communicate, cooperate, and resolve conflict?

People drawn to monastic life have their edges 'polished' by living and working in close, communal quarters. It's easy to be spiritual with your own practice and nobody around to ruffle your feathers. But we serve each other best as mirrors and teachers. What a gift when I become aware of my reaction to X's behavior. Now we're in spiritual practice! My noticing wakes me to what must be my own area of next growth and healing. I bow to X for being a perfect reflection for me.

Any well-facilitated group can be a strong, fluid container that gives breathing room for each individual and encourages cross-pollination. That's how I like to lead and hold space, and how I like to participate. I feel safe to be open and purely myself, excited to learn with the group. I get over my shyness and play well with others.

Our human frailties arise quickly in groups. Alliances are bound to happen as we are drawn to and repelled by certain others. But how do we form bonds, not cliques? Do we understand that everyone is here in this particular group for a reason? Can we enlarge our compassion, inclusion and our willingness to be with someone different? Especially if we don't like him/her? What do we do when we feel exiled? Do we hold leadership or sit back? What do we do with our judgments?

All these questions apply to our inner relationships as well. The more self-compassion we have, the easier it is to meet another openly. And the more we allow our edges to be polished in community, without losing ourselves in group think and group speak, the more we can be truly present with ourselves just as we are.

At Play At Work

Two weeks ago I met one of those great flight attendants who make travel worth it. What Kenny radiated most was an authentic sense of caring and playfulness. His safety spiel was a rapid-fire riff.

"Don't be unfastening your seat belts before the sign goes off. I know who you are. Don't do it," he teased. With this human touch, I felt his genuine concern for us, his charges.

Kenny was a natural performer and clearly loved making us smile. He chatted easily as he poured the ginger ale. When he came to my row, I told him I was happy he was having fun.

"I always have fun. I don't like mean, grumpy people," he shook his head with a furrowed brow. Clearly he'd made a choice getting up that morning, or walking into this life, just as we all can.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. said, It's faith in something and enthusiasm for something that makes a life worth living.

I didn't get to ask Kenny, but my guess is his faith is in people. What about you?

A is for Absorption

Jumping back on the runaway horse of my blog, I want to write about absorption.

I recently had the chance to play with my one-year old friend Kaia. She's just finding her legs, enjoying her rootedness in standing and walking/falling with first steps. The moments of being with her while she crawled, sat, climbed, clambered, and stood in a little rocking chair totally absorbed me. It took my full awareness and responsiveness to prevent her from taking a dive, and yet I gave her lots of room to explore.

In describing this to other friends, they reflected back that I am that way with clients and with friends in deep discussion. I'm a 'spotter,' one said. It's like a dance. I move with, providing contact and/or supportive space for what wants to happen next.

In this absorption I can easily lose track of time and sense of separation. Being in that creative, responsive flow, being in the zone, is being one with another. In those moments I'm fully alive and bring that aliveness and trust in the process to another.

How do you experience absorption?

Next entry starts with a 'B'