My Best Friends

NaBloPoMo 2020 – Today’s Lesson

What draws you to your favorite people? 

For me it’s presence, openness, conviction, kindness, honesty, constancy, and most importantly, curiosity.  My best friends hold me up and hold me accountable.  They ask open, honest questions, and they really listen.  They see, hear, understand, accept, and love me.  They make joyful effort to meet me in my struggles to observe, understand, and integrate my experiences—to learn.  They keep me honest, never letting me get away with small-minded BS.  And they are all master learners themselves.

Lately I notice people, mostly men, who speak in declaration, refutation, and rhetoric.  They rarely ask questions that aren’t leading, dismissing, or prelude to soliloquy.  They interrupt incessantly.  I used to suffer greatly from encounters with such haute-pedants, from the utter unilaterality of conversation.   If they listened at all, it was to argue rather than to understand or broaden perspective.  Exhausting.  Today I moderate my expectations in such exchanges.  I accept what is, let go my wishes to be understood.  I focus instead on understanding, and my learning burgeons—often as much about myself as anything or anyone else.  My best friends point me to this higher plain of attention.

Tonight I see my tribe as a small, über-productive beehive.  Every day we sisters (and some brothers) survey our vast and diverse environment for new nectar.  It can be dangerous out there, but we’re tough and make it home.  As one dances out the journey, others attend and minister with love.  Together, we take everybody’s learning and make the sweetest honey, the insights and wisdom that nourish and sustain us—that drive us onward, seeking ever farther, wider, and higher meaning and purpose. 

How does your hive make you better?

Two Drops from the Firehose

NaBloPoMo 2020 – Today’s Lesson

Friends, my firehose of learning gushed forcefully all week, and I’m exhausted in that really satisfied, saturated way.  Rather than trying to gulp directly in the path of deluge tonight, I looked for the drops that fell lightly, right from the nozzle.  Of all the things I read, heard, discussed, applied, and discerned, what stood out most?  Here’s what I found:

First, an article my friend posted and quoted tonight, which resonated deeply:

I believe the entire Jewish enterprise, with Talmud as its core spiritual practice, was designed to create…a person who is profoundly empathic, deeply connected to others, and radically loving; challenging rather than compliant, more disposed to resistance than obedience, active rather than passive; bold, courageous, and risk-taking when necessary; who can not only tolerate but appreciate and navigate uncertainty, paradox, and contradiction—because life is that way; who can appreciate and deal with complexity—because life is complex—rather than retreat into the need for and illusion of simplicity; who is resilient and can hold their truths lightly; and who walks through the world bringing the insights from their lived life experience to bear as a critique on a world which needs to be repaired precisely in those ways.

… It was designed to and must be utilized again to create people courageous enough to bring their svara, their moral intuition—refined and shaped by their learning—to bear on the world around them in such a way as to create a liberatory world in which all people can thrive in freedom and dignity, without barriers to being able to live out their fully human selves. And I believe that becoming that kind of person is a radical act of resistance. 

Hallelujah.

Second, Brené Brown’s podcast grounds and graces me lately.  This weekend, treat yourself to the profound and empowering message of Elizabeth Lesser, author of Cassandra Speaks, the next book in my Audible queue.  In addition to explaining the Tend and Befriend stress response and the real meaning of power, Lesser points to the necessary inner work required to really change the world:

It’s Friday the 13th.  COVID spreads like wildfire across the country, two weeks before Thanksgiving.

Let us take care of each other.  Judge less.  Listen more.  And MASK UP.

Onward.

Keeping In Touch

NaBloPoMo 2020 – Today’s Lesson

How have you maintained and nurtured your ties this year? 

As the days get shorter and colder, I feel the annual personal regression set in.  In 2020, this carries new and important implications.  The busier I get, the more I value quiet and solitude.  But my soul sings in connection—broad, frequent, and deep.

Since March I count at least six new, recurring engagements with friends and family, occurring over phone, Zoom, and snail mail.  They have all held me up and calmed me down through tumult.  And they all occurred organically—all of us seeking comfort, connection, and meaning through the chaos and morass.  All signs point to these as my social and emotional beacons through the coming winter.  What will your beacons be?

At work, this year has tested our teams.  Even the most resilient ones have strained under the stress of complex and prolonged uncertainty.  Though we returned to work in June, we are still not together like before.  We’ve had to find new ways to stay connected, including weekly video calls and now the possibility of daily, one-song, video dance parties.  I see more clearly now where I can connect more regularly one on one, and how individuals may need me to show up in different ways.  I would have told you for many years now that I understand this concept; today I feel at least one step closer to living it for real.

Relationships are already hard.  Cultivating and sustaining healthy ones in the midst of crisis, in an increasingly Volatile, Uncertain, Complex and Ambiguous (VUCA) world, takes extra attention and effort.  I must constantly attune and retune. 

Every encounter is an opportunity to try; it makes me better, and I’m grateful.