My Sister’s Bold Vision

“Most people are not really free. They are confined by the niche in the world they carve out for themselves. They limit themselves to fewer possibilities by the narrowness of their vision,” writes V.S. Naipaul, Nobel Laureate.

But not my sister. Not now anyway. For years, she felt confined in a place that no longer fulfilled her despite the healthy income that helped ease her day-to-day grind.  Real estate had been her niche, and she was a master at her craft. Yet still, meaning was missing, so when the market crashed she decided it was time to carve out a new life for herself. Acting courageously, she let go of the stuff that once defined her existence, a beautiful home in the suburbs and all the trappings that went along with it.

It was time for journey, but to where, she wasn’t certain. The one thing she knew for sure was that travel had a place in her plan. Like all good creators, my sister began with a single idea—a road trip across the U.S.A.—a dream in itself that opened her to new people and places, vistas unseen. After 3 months of traveling, she landed in a California, temporarily settling into a casita in a place called Shell Beach. There, her body relaxed and her mind opened to new possibilities. But there too, her pocket change dwindled after months without income. She could have let fear stop her from enrolling in travel school. But she knew what she wanted now. She felt compelled to invest in her dream, to feed it with time, money, and action, so it could manifest into reality.

Energized, she started the New Year with her first travel assignment, directing a few tours for the Tournament of Roses. She was jazzed! A few weeks later, she flew back to Atlanta to attend a travel conference to meet potential employers, and then afterward, flew to NYC to sit for a tour guide exam. She was on her way to creating what she wanted–a tour director job with a reputable travel company.

Her vision was clear. That was the good news. The bad news, however, was that her money was running out. Fear was creeping in; doubt taking hold. After sixteen months of envisioning her dream, my sister was questioning her choices. No one was replying to her emails or resume blasts, not even the world-renowned travel group who she had interviewed with several times. Was her dream about to die? Would she have to return to a real estate, a career she no longer wanted, or worse yet, drain her retirement savings and end up living in her car?

I prayed she’d hang in there. I knew in my heart she had done what was necessary, feeding her dream with concrete action. She was so close to the precipice, it made no sense to turn back. As I reflected on her sojourn, I recalled a famous quotation from The Scottish Himalayan Expedition, written by W.H. Murray in the year of my sister’s birth. It exemplified her commitment…

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sort of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred.  A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man [or woman] could have dreamed would have come his [or her] way. I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets: whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.

Something magical was about to happen. I got a call from my sister the first week in March. “I got it!” she cheered. “I’m heading to Alaska to start my new job as a Tour Director for Holland America. “Of course you are,” I acknowledged her with pride. “You know how to create what you want,” I affirmed. “You did it!”

Like all masterful creators, my sister started with a concept, and idea of what she wanted. She experimented and explored until a vision came to mind. She never forced an end result, but instead, kept moving in the direction of her dream, allowing it to unfold and become clearer each day. She took steady action, consistently seizing opportunities and gaining knowledge as she went along. Each step led to greater insight; every insight led to a more certain plan. In the midst of it all, she never buckled under pressure. She didn’t allow fear to stop her. At the same time, she didn’t ignore reality either. She tightened her budget and relinquished a life style that had once been comfortable, yet incomplete.

My sister, whom I deeply admire, is no longer confined by a “niche” that doesn’t fulfill her.  She’s heading to Alaska next week to begin a new career in the “Land of Promise.” Free and unencumbered, her bold vision has come alive. Bon Voyage, dear sister. I love you!

Roots of Resilience

I just returned from a long, luxurious walk. The sky was crystal blue, the air crisp and clean, the landscape speckled with fresh green buds sprouting from the limbs of young and old trees. No matter the age of the maple, oak, or birch, all were springing amazing new life. They had weathered the cold winter, bare naked, together. And today, their remarkable resilience was bringing them back to a state of glorious renewal. I was in awe.

Yesterday I witnessed a different sort of mother nature–the natural beautiful of a young mother, a former drug addict, who was clean and sober for 126 days. She was beaming, proud of her progress in treatment and enthralled with the reunification with her child. She was ready to create a vision of renewed life, for in her mind, spring had sprung. But had it, really? Could the resilience she mustered in one blush of spring ensure that she would never use drugs again?

Unlike seedlings that take root in solid ground, many addicts grow up in family systems where the ground is not secure. Emotional growth is hindered by the lack of a secure attachment to a primary caregiver. Research has shown that this lack can lead to maladaptive patterns of social and emotional regulation, and in certain individuals, to the use of drugs and alcohol as a buffer for psychological distress.

I share this information, not to discount this young woman’s progress or motivation for fulfilling her dreams, but as a commentary to the importance of diving deep beneath the surface of our addictions to the roots of our emotional disconnections.  Despite the thousands of people who participate in alcohol and drug treatment programs annually, success rates continue to be low. Research is still unclear about the reason for this, but based on my knowledge and experience in the field, I believe that there isn’t enough time, or more importantly, enough trust, to delve deeper into our roots and heal them.

This beautiful young mother had the courage to face winter’s harsh reality with people who truly cared for her, and as a result, she grew resilient–at least for one season. But there is much more growth to come for her, that is, if she chooses it. Winters will come and winters will go, unless of course you live in Tahiti:-) There are people on the planet who had the good fortune to grow up in parental paradise, individuals who are emotionally secure. But for many of us, addicts and non-addicts alike, we need to continually cycle through seasons of growth to strengthen the ground of our being.

Growth is hard, and growing alone is unnatural. We need to be nurtured, again and again, over the course of many seasons, especially if our emotional growth was stilted in childhood. Courageously, we’ll need to plant ourselves in relationships with others who know how to care for us in winter. When we do, spring will come, and in time, it will do so with greater ease. Our roots will deepen, our relationships will flourish, and just like the budding trees in spring, our resilience will strengthen and give way to renewed life.

Between Two Worlds

Something within me has shifted. I sit quietly today, grateful for the time I have to contemplate my future. I am living between two worlds, a yesterday filled with an established identity and a tomorrow filled with unknown possibilities. At times the tension between the two is maddening, but today, the mystery intrigues me.

Could it be that the world is offering me hope? I watch in amazement, profoundly moved by resolute citizens demanding change in the Middle East. They know what they want. They stand steadfast in their quest to transform a society. Their courage is unparalleled. Fear will not stop them.

My last entry conveyed the importance of holding the tension between our current reality and new possibilities for our future. Most of us realize what it is we’d like to change —meaningless work, unhealthy relationships, stressful days, lonely nights. We know what we don’t want–the unhappiness, the frustration, the discomfort, the fear–so we jump in head first, determined to replace the old with the new. We find a new job, get into a new relationship, take a vacation to wind us down or a new volunteer assignment to wind us up. Problem is, we often end up in the same old place, making superficial changes to the exterior of our lives, while our interior dimensions remain the same.

Einstein said, “Problems cannot be solved at the same level of awareness that created them.” It’s an amazing time in human history. Evolutionary change is happening right before our eyes. One man’s unwillingness to sell out to a corrupt regime set a nation on course to create a hopeful new vision. The tension we’ve witnessed in high-definition offers a profound example of how transformational change occurs. It happens not by replacing the old with the new, but instead, standing strong between the polarities of what has been and what we hope will be.

My life and my desire at this moment may seem inconsequential to the story playing out on the world stage. But my life is consequential, and my desire to transform it is very real to me. Robert Fritz, the author I mentioned in my previous blog entry, defines a framework for creating what he defines as structural tension. He writes,

“To change the structure there must be another structure in play, and this structure must take precedence over the old structure, so that the path of least resistance will change and the energy may move easily along that new path.”

The people of the Middle East have set a new structure in play–a vision of democracy fueled by civil resistance. They’re no longer willing to accept an old reality based on corruption, economic turmoil, and lack of free speech. The momentum they’ve created is unprecedented in their history. As creators of change, they’ve harnessed the tension between the two and engaged the forces at play.

I’m in awe of these people, for their courageous actions are unfathomable. Despite the odds against them, they are masterfully creating change as defined by Robert Fritz: 1) establishing a clear vision of their future, 2) confronting the truth of their current reality, 3) taking courageous action, assessing what works and what actions need modified in the present, 4) using the seeds of their movement to take root at a deeper level, and finally, 5) building on the momentum to strengthen a new structure.

The people of the Middle East are modeling the way to creative change, holding the tension between what is and what they hope will be. Between the two poles lies a sea of possibilities, but the only possibilities that make sense in pursuing, are those that align with their vision–a free society.

Determining the result we want is paramount. Before doing anything, we must first create a concrete picture in our mind. I’m pleased to report that my picture keeps getting clearer after experimenting and exploring several possibilities. I’ll tell you more in my next entry, when we focus solely on the first few steps of the creative process as defined by Fritz, conceptualizing and visioning.

You Don’t Need Determination

My mind wonders back to a luminous image, “Yes, we can!” shouts a determined Barack Obama to a sea of hopeful followers. Before sitting down to blog yesterday, I jotted “I’m determined to create a new reality for myself in 2011, ‘cause God knows, 2010 sucked!”

My intention was to write an entry that inspired me (and maybe you) to get on with the business of recreating life, the subtitle of this blog. Determination seemed like a logical place to start. In my quest to identify meaningful quotes to add to my writing, I pulled an old book off the shelf appropriately titled “Creating”, by Robert Fritz. I flipped opened a page, discovering a section heading which ironically challenged my premise…You Don’t Need Determination. “I should have known better,” I smirked. The words rang true…

Determination is a short-term motivational manipulation that is designed to overcome inertia, procrastination, and ineptitude. The power of determination runs out awfully fast….You cannot build momentum based on determination or through other forms of willpower manipulations.

Obama’s determination may have helped him get elected to the presidency, but sadly, it hasn’t lifted people out of difficult times. Motivational rhetoric is a useless tool in building momentum for change. Sure, it might pump us up for a day or two, and even help someone get off his or her butt to vote. But in reality, taking action without taking time to determine what you really want and where you really are will get you nowhere really fast.

Taking time – time to explore, to dream and to describe, not just where we’re headed, but where we are in the present moment – is essential to our creative process. Most folks realize the importance of envisioning what they want, but few, according to Fritz, describe what they currently have in relationship to the result they want. With determination, we drive toward change, focusing on what’s yet to take form without consideration of what currently exists. In this place, there’s nothing to ground us and no tension to resolve between where we are and where we’d like to be. Movement becomes arbitrary without a beginning and an end.

Over the next few months I will be blogging about the creative process as defined by Robert Fritz. I know without a doubt that this framework works amazingly well, so it’s time to apply it to my life once again. If you’d like to create new realities for yourself in 2011, please join me here to apply the process to your life. I’d love the company!

Christmas in My Heart

My heart is alive in Christmas, but a few weeks ago it wasn’t so. My first entry, Winter Solstice, recounts the darkness I struggled with this past year. I hope this won’t discourage you from reading it, for it ends in a hopeful place.

The following excerpt from “A Child’s Christmas in Wales” by Dylan Thomas, captures the beauty in the darkness…

Looking through my bedroom window, out into the moonlight and the unending smoke-colored snow, I could see the lights in the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear the music rising from them up the long, steadily falling night. I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept.

For many weeks I was asleep in the darkness, afraid the night would never end. But it did. It ended when I looked out into the world and saw light in the windows of people who loved me, people who were able to hold me “close and holy” while I slept. Their light rekindled my faith and reminded me that I’m never alone in this world.

As 2010 comes to an end, and a New Year dawns, I’m imagining brilliant light streamingthrough my windows and back out into yours, so that together, wewill honor Christmas inour hearts the whole year long.

Winter Solstice

Depression. I was a walking Cymbalta commercial. Tired, achy, unfocused, despairing, crying until my once sparking eyes receded into their sockets, puffy and red. My compassionate heart-felt hollow and aching. My once joyful self exorcised from my body, whereabouts unknown. “Who is this person that has taken over my existence? I don’t know her,” I screamed out. “I don’t want to know her.” I hated who I was. I hated the diagnosis that defined my current reality, a label coined in the name of mental health. No clinical diagnosis had been given me, but having just completed my masters in counseling, it was evident that I met the criteria for a mood disorder, major depressive episode.

Disorder. I had learned a great deal about disordered thinking and feeling in graduate school. Research-based findings and immersion in theoretical frameworks had defined my journey for three long years. It was hell letting go of an enlivening coaching practice to build competence in a field built on diagnosis and disorder. Creativity was limited; experiential learning rare. Despite my disappointment with the methods used to teach me, I was determined to achieve my lifelong goal to become a professional counselor. I believed that earning licensure would add value to my work and secure my future in a way coaching alone never could.

Death. All the while I was in graduate school my 12-year old business was dying a slow, steady death. My receipts had dwindled with the economic downturn; my website became infected with malicious code. Still, I held onto my pride and my pleasure, facilitating a few retreats and tele-forums and squeezing in a few coaching clients between research papers and tests. I loved (and still love) what I created with HumanArts, a coaching and consulting practice designed to help people and organizations become creative, resourceful, and whole. But I knew it was time to let go of my creation. The universe was beckoning me to move forward again. Despite my resistance and fear of the unknown, I shut down my website, disconnected the phone line, canceled the P.O. Box, and scrapped my artistic letterhead. My heart grieved. I felt lost, a woman alone in search of a new identity.

Departure. This ending wasn’t the only cause for my depression. It was also fueled by the departure of my only sibling, Sandy, who moved to Los Angeles in July of this year. I wallowed in self-pity, convincing myself that she was the only person I could truly lean on, and now after 30 years of togetherness in Atlanta, she was gone. Her timing sucked! She left me when I really needed her. I had just taken a part-time job with a dysfunctional county agency, a treatment center for substance use disorder. I was frustrated with red tape and hierarchical controls, discouraged about my choice to enter the mental health field after years of entrepreneurial freedom. I had finally earned the right to counsel individuals with “disorders,” and here I was, struggling with a disorder of my own.

Disconnection. “Help me, please!” I screamed out loud to no one and everyone. Numb with pain one day, anguished the next, no matter what surfaced I knew I couldn’t suffer alone anymore. “Haven’t I already been down this path?” I bemoaned. “Didn’t I write a saga of loneliness in A Journey of My Choosing?” Despite my resistance and fear of the unknown, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

Reconnection. I picked up the phone and called my friend Kathy. Again and again, she was faithfully there. I asked my friend Mardeene to come over and comfort me. I needed to be held and cry in her arms. I let it all out on the phone with my sister, purging my emotions until I felt limp. To salve my tired soul, I took hot baths and played soothing music. I cooked healthy meals and drank hot tea before going to bed. I walked in the park, practiced yoga, and meditated at sunrise. I got out of the house even when I didn’t feel like it. I asked for help, over and over, despite the shame I was feeling inside. I stopped giving so much and started taking much more. Then finally one night after six months of darkness, I caught a glimmer of light during a Winter Solstice celebration.

I always return to Mary & Martha’s Place at Solstice, a spiritual center that fills me with peace and a renewed sense of hope. Mardeene agreed to join me and I was thankful that she did. Sitting in the pew of a dimly lit sanctuary, my soul sank into “Sweet Darkness,” a poem by David Whyte…

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

You must learn one thing:
the world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.

A surge of grief caused me to shutter. Mardeene took my hand and squeezed it tightly, there once again, tending to my needs. Together, we meditated in sweet darkness and sang softly with a community of gentle voices. Near the end of the service, we stepped out of our pew to join a procession, moving toward an altar filled with unlit votive candles. I hadn’t noticed that I was the last in line until I arrived at the table. I lit my candle prayerfully before attempting to hand my light stick back to the women guiding us along. Instead of taking my light stick, she handed me another votive. There were many more candles left to light, and miraculously, I was the one who was invited to repeat this ritual over and over again.

Over the last few years I lost much of my light spending time in places “too small” for me. My creative spirit withered in the halls of academia, and it’s currently suppressed by government bureaucracy. I trust these experiences are serving a purpose, but I also know it’s time to break free once again. My mind isn’t clear of exactly where I’m headed, but my heart knows for sure that I can’t go it alone.  I’ve been there and done that on a solo journey of my choosing. Today I choose to connect to an enlivening community.

Connection is key in the journey of self-development. The research proves that growth-fostering relationships enhance creativity, clarity, and vitality. So there, theories do serve a purpose and education is useful (I smile as I write), but what’s most valuable to me right now are the people who bring me alive.

My intention for 2011 is to expand my connections, “Alone, Together,” writing and reading my way into re-creation, overcoming the darkness as I step more fully into the light. If you’re seeking more light, more love, and more connections, join me.