Working Meditation

Observations from a life in motion

#6: What function might a human have?

“Where a muscle is located and what joints it crosses determines the function that the muscle will have” – Chiara Guerrieri, my yoga anatomy teacher

My biggest takeaway from Chiara’s anatomy teachings is that the human body is an astounding example of a well-run system. The opening sentence above is just one of the many practical reflections from Chiara. Even after several weeks, I continue to turn this straightforward yet complex sentence in my head for insights. While doing so, I replace the word “muscle” for the word “person”.

Where a person is located: in time, geography, culture, norms, identity, opportunity, access, skills, restrictions

And the joints they cross: exposure, experiences, intersections, knowledge, interests

Will determine the function they will have: their what and how

In other words, our geography often determines our biography. It is sometimes hard for me to zoom out and see my own geography and when I do, it is hard to view it with compassion. I didn’t get to choose a big chunk of my geography but I have the power to change some of it. Thinking this way also allows me to objectively understand why others may think and act in fiercely contrasting ways. The permutations are endless!

“Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!”
– Langston Hughes

#5: The Dennis Rodman within

I watched The Last Dance, the Michael Jordan and Chicago Bulls documentary, on Netflix. One of the things that struck me was Dennis Rodman’s psychological makeup and his contrast to Jordan. Knowing Rodman’s history now, I can see the through line and understand what created the powerful need in him to escape into the wild and release pressure periodically. If it happened to be in ways that were optically unfavorable to him, he didn’t care. He needed to shut out the demands to perform so he could recapture a part of him.

Lately I’ve been noticing the Jordan and Rodman inside me. The striver, methodical planner, relentless doer, unquenchable attainer. The one who creates structure and pushes me to keep going. Then there is the independent and stubborn – almost Husky dog like creature – that feels claustrophobic after too many days of heavy structure. It wants to play without agenda. The type of play that doesn’t have a secret goal of coaxing out productivity. It doesn’t want endless sleep or Netflix, it craves exploration; random travel, conversations, art, play, laughter. When it doesn’t get what it needs, it becomes lackluster, glassy eyed, lethargic, and less of who it naturally is. I never let my Rodman-Husky play because the striving Jordan needed to build stability and it feared that the wild and independent one might venture too far from home and never come back to do the work. Probably for the first time in my life, I’m giving the Husky a chance and it’s sniffing the trails to uncover long buried gems. My life feels richer for it.

“Then you will see gardens with secluded rose bowers, and they will all be inside you.” – Rumi

#4: Where’s my gold star?

I was patient and helpful, very patient and moderately helpful, with two people in the span of 30 minutes on a day that I was tired and in physical pain myself. They didn’t know about or tune-in to my fatigue because they were both fighting with their stressor of the moment. I quietly helped them navigate their emotional compression to more ease and – That. Was. It.

A few hours later, a mild case of “what about me?” appeared to which I asked back, “what about me?”. What was lacking? The fact that they don’t know I helped them despite my problems? If they had known and gushed over my being a good person, would that have felt good? For how long would it have felt good? Why did I need them to acknowledge my meager contribution and if no one saw or acknowledged it, was I less because of it? What I did so effortlessly in the moment took over a longing not so long after. Please love me, tell me I’m good. Not once but all the time and in as many ways as possible, because this pit of need is deep.

I do what I do because when I don’t act from the most well-constituted way available to me in the moment, I let wholesome parts of me atrophy and – That. Is. It.

“What you have despised in yourself as a thorn opens into a rose”. – Rumi

#3: Reclaiming ambition, without fear or bravado

When did ambition start meaning ruthless self-centeredness? The dictionary meaning of ambition is: “a strong desire to do or achieve something“. That something can mean many things, and maybe that something started leaning more towards power and wealth to the detriment of all other kinds of goals. Those that had big ambitions but not necessarily (or not only) for power and wealth might have found words to minimize or apologize for their ambition. But, what other English word succinctly carries the intent of purpose?

Ambition is the fertile threshold where initiative meets intention as they walk hand-in-hand on an unknown but profoundly satisfying path; to use my experiences as compost to fertilize my contribution. In my perspective, this is what life asks us to do over and over again. A well-lived life is made up of many such interconnected pathways of intention, initiative and contribution. We are asked to look inward to get an honest sense of our unique internal landscape – the experiences, skills and passions – and then show up in their service without fear or bravado.

“Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.”
– John O’Donohue

#2: Escape the ordinary

I have a wonderfully fragrant soy candle on my desk that implores me to “escape the ordinary”. I never really paused on this phrase until now. Perhaps because grief often brings with it a microscope for the mundane, I paused and then hopped on my thought train – “Escape to what? Escape from what? Won’t I still be there, in that extraordinary place, with all my demons?”.  I’ve mastered the art of escape. Escaping grief, evading pain, exiting my body and hiding from the emotionally difficult task of doing the work that matters to me.

We inhabit the ordinary for 99% of our lives. Connection, learning, and impact happen in the ordinary. Life’s meaning and juices flow through the ordinary moments which, when cultivated with joy and moment-to-moment presence, become the stuff of magical reveries. The ordinary is what powers that extraordinary 1%. I often don’t need help escaping. I need support in fully taking the seat at the center of my life and work.

“We come from the earth, we return to the earth, and in between we garden.” – Alfred Austin

#1: A box of crayons

A friend recently asked me impromptu questions about innovation and creativity. As I spoke, previously unthought ideas appeared from hidden caves in my mind to form an unexpectedly clear picture. I said that it seems like each of us are given a box of crayons that are uniquely us. Some crayons are available from early on in life and others become available – as if getting unlocked – over time as we gather experiences and perspectives. Sometimes the crayons are the same color as before, but get more vibrant and saturated with pigment over time. Other times, we may get entirely new and unexpected colors as we progress through life, and these colors may challenge and change who we think we are. Examples started popping up on the fly too –  Chimamanda Adichie, one of my favorite writers, and Schitt’s Creek’s, Dan Levy surfaced as examples of pigments that became more saturated over time and John Krasinski as an example of progression, from acting to writing, directing and producing.
 
The question isn’t who is innovative and who isn’t. It might be more useful to ask who isn’t holding back on experimenting with all their crayons and who is, for reasons within and outside their control. Will I tune-in to my unique box of crayons? Will I play with the sometimes unexpected and often evolving color palette that is uniquely mine?

“We are notes in this beautiful concert of existence. If we don’t play ourselves, nobody will.” – Rodrigo De Souza, Mozart in the Jungle