Be Myself, Change Myself, Be the Change

Vail, Colorado, 2019

We are who we are from a very early age, maybe even before we are born. AND, we also constantly evolve throughout our lives. 

This is one of my favorite paradoxes.

Image shared on Instagram–one of my favorite quotes

I’m thinking a lot lately about Outer Peace. Our world swirls and bubbles with chaos and toxicity, so many psyches apparently living on the knife edge between tolerance and breakage, between breathing and screaming. How often are we tempted to yell, kick, throw things, or simply stop whatever we’re doing and just cry a while? How do we hold it together and simply function ourselves, much less help anybody else, and/or make any positive difference in the universe?

The longer I live the more I (re)learn that it’s about core values, goals, and trade offs, and not ego. Change is not about fighting. It’s Inner Peace in service of Outer Peace.

“Yesterday I was clever,” I knew better than everybody else. I was smart, and I wanted to show it. I came at rather than coming alongside, made simple and superficial assumptions, jumped to (often wrong) conclusions. This part of the quote expresses the necessary adolescence that we all go through in life–personal, social, and professional–the ‘know it all’ phase that our elders tolerate knowingly because their own elders did the same for them. Impetuous and defiant confidence, disregarding boundaries, testing and finding limits and resonances, if only subconsciously and often painfully. It is the organic growth and pruning of youth to early adulthood. If we’re lucky, we have mentors to guide us, helping us navigate the morass with fewer mental, emotional, and spiritual nicks, bruises, and fractures.

“…so I wanted to change the world.” Because it *should* all be a certain way, the way I think, because I know what’s right. Those who agree with me are my friends; those who don’t are not. I’m oversimplifying. But this is not far from a persistent mindset reality in our social groups well past physiologic adolescence, and not least among those who determine and enforce policy. Change the world how? According to my own world view and life philosophy, however rigid, narrow, and closed. I wonder about the (inverse?) correlation between how tightly we hold onto our rigidities and how far we have traveled, how diverse our experience, how many different cultures and realities we truly understand and empathize with? I submit that if we are honestly paying attention, if we open our eyes, minds, and hearts to the depth and breadth of any given human’s life experience, it instantly puts our all-knowing and arrogant ego in its place, which is at the back of the ‘world change’ bus.

“Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” I am still clever–perhaps ever more so with age. With wisdom, however, I apply my cleverness in a different, more mindful, relationally intelligent way. I realize that power to change is not power over, it is power to. Strong arming (which includes coercing and shaming) rarely creates lasting, meaningful change, at least not without deep human cost. When I look inward first, seeing how I myself relate to and connect with that which I wish to change, therein lies my strength. I approach any problem from an ultimately human and humane perspective, which makes me more credible, more creative, more holistic in my problem solving. This is a big ask, requiring vulnerability and a willingness to step ‘way outside of my comfort zones. How does this give me any kind of peace? Don’t I risk losing myself, my identity entirely, when I make such daring attempts at real inclusiveness?

Who am I, that I can withstand this broadening, this profound stretching of perspective?

I am clear. I am centered. I am grounded, focused, and engaged–in my Why, in my Just Cause, in my commitment to playing the infinite game of human relationship and connection as long as I possibly can. To be me, my Best Self, means constantly evolving through lived experience, while hewing closely to my core values of honesty, integrity, curiosity, humility, generosity, and kindness. My inner peace comes from knowing, at the end of each day, that I did my best to show up this way, even when it was hard. 

It’s hard when I’m attacked, dismissed, or rejected for asking open, honest questions, for challenging social norms and ‘the way we do things,’ for facing and abutting over and over the rigid, the narrow, the closed. It’s hard when I discover my own rigidity, narrowness, and closures–oh man, that is tough to take. And the practices bring me back; they de-escalate, defuse, disarm, and rejuvenate: Breath. Mindfulness. Writing. Talking. Connection.

Inner Peace may not come immediately or even for a while after a disruption. But it does come, and each training episode strengthens my skills. The peace I eventually feel, then, grows and deepens; it integrates synergistically. It cannot help but then exude, at least while it lasts, until the next trial. Intervals between trials lengthen because what disrupted my peace last year rolls off of my consciousness today. Episodes shorten as I am able to breathe and regulate through them more effectively and efficiently. I become elastic, supple–strong and soft. My peace grows, and I grow with it, as does my capacity to share it.

I am me this whole time, learning, practicing, training, ad infinitum. I am me, rooted while growing. I am me, the change I wish to see in the world.

Time, Books, Bread, and Love

What is/are your love language/s?

According to Gary Chapman’s popular book The Five Love Languages, mine are, in order: quality time, words of affirmation, receiving gifts, physical touch, and acts of service. Since learning the framework, I have observed for Husband’s and Kids’ languages, and become more fluent in a few of their respective dialects. Some are easier to pick up than others! It’s humbling to think how friends and family may feel rejected by me when I respond sideways to their bids for love, because I don’t understand their intent. “Rats!” as friend Eileen would say. I can do better!

On the other hand, how wonderful when I can converse in love speech with someone in appreciation and joy? Words are definitely my currency–quality time for me means being together talking, and not just about pop culture and current events. I consider any thoughtful or personal verbal expression a gift, and especially anything via snail mail. I get positively giddy when I open the mailbox and see colored envelopes, interesting stamps, and omg stickers–it all just makes my heart sing.

Friend and fellow writer Nicole recently recommended the book Write For Your Life by Anna Quindlen. It’s a fast, easy, and heartwarming read by the veteran journalist and novelist. It validates my insatiable need to write–for myself and for sharing–and inspires me to do it with ever more abandon and joy. Quindlen reflects on the timeless relevance of Anne Frank’s diary, and our collective delight in finding old letters between lovers from the past. She wishes her parents left more words on paper, in their own hand, now that she can no longer connect with them in a tangible, tactile way. Even if you’ve never thought writing could stimulate, soothe, inspire, or connect you, this short work may convince you otherwise. Spending quality time with yourself and your thoughts, processing through pen on paper, may yield ideas, insights, and epiphanies that come no other way; and those who read them subsequently may benefit and connect to you in ways you cannot yet not imagine. So inspired was I after reading, that I bought multiple copies of WFYL and gifted them to friends. With each volume I selected a specific journal to go along. Pleather- and cloth-bound, blank, lined books invite original composition with artfully embossed covers: windblown trees; “Be the Change”; “ZEN AS F*CK”.

For my friend who took on a big new hairy leadership role, I included 6 additional works: The Art of Possibility, Benjamin and Rozamund Stone Zander; Switch, Chip and Dan Heath; Big Magic, Elizabeth Gilbert; Rising Strong, Brene Brown; Drive, Daniel Pink; and The Infinite Game, Simon Sinek. To the one who stands together with his wife at their respective professional crossroads, I accompanied Quindlen with John O’Donohue’s wisdom in To Bless the Space Between Us. His poems soothe, uplift, warm, and reassure, promoting reflection and also whispering, coaxing our own wisdom to emerge from within. Sharing others’ words, wiser and more eloquent than my own, is another way I love my friends.

When I can get the timing right, of course I also include some sourdough in the gift bag. Sven continues to thrive, leavening my loaves reliably for a over a year now. His heirloom flour descendant, whose products my gluten-intolerant friends can eat without consequence, has finally also developed that fruity aroma that I recognize as my starter. There is something special about giving and receiving gifts we make (or write) by hand, with our time, talent, and treasure. It’s just another level of love, expressed concretely and tangibly.

Nobody questions the value of sharing and expressing love between friends and family.

But what about between colleagues? Leaders and those they lead? Systems and their contingent members? What does it take to learn and attempt to speak anybody’s ‘love’ language? When we do personality tests at the office and find out who’s an introvert or extravert, who thinks versus feels their way to a decision, can we as leaders and coworkers make the effort to communicate–to relate–on another’s terms in addition to our own? I fail at this day after day; rats! I can do better!

In the end it’s about how we each feel seen, heard, understood, accepted and loved–why limit this essential and life-sustaining human reciprocity to ‘loved ones’? Better yet, why not include all with whom we are in any relationship among those we consider ‘loved‘? It may require quite a brave and committed redefinition of and reorientation to ‘love’, no? But how might this inspired shift in perspective, even by only a fraction of one degree, profoundly alter the course of business, healthcare, education, government–everything?