I’m glad you’re here. Welcome.
A 2 x monthly newsletter that contains - 3 things to consider. 2 thoughts from me. 1 invitation to act.
Life in your eyes
A woman who rescues horses was asked to save a pony found walking the streets. His plight was likely death in the coming days, and the vet recommended euthanasia. The woman asked the vet ‘does he have the will to live in his eyes?’ and the vet replied, ‘yes.’
A woman who rescues horses was asked to save a pony found walking the streets. His plight was likely death in the coming days, and the vet recommended euthanasia. The woman asked the vet ‘does he have the will to live in his eyes?’ and the vet replied, ‘yes.’
This question struck me immediately. Because, you know those people who have shining eyes. The ones whose environment may be lacking, or their circumstances found wanting. And yet they, themselves are there. Fully there. Ready to face. Showing up.
In this clip, the farm dog takes the pony on as his friend, and the pony starts to recover.
Empathy is the key to our future as humans. We could learn a lot from this dog. And also, the woman who asks incredible questions.
Look for the will in others eyes. We all need someone else at some time or another to look closely and see what we can’t.
Expecting too much
We expect too much.
If the leading cause of death is coronary heart disease, then the leading cause of sadness is surely too many expectations… (I know, I know a morbid start).
We expect too much.
If the leading cause of death is coronary heart disease, then the leading cause of sadness is surely too many expectations… (I know, I know a morbid start).
Michael Singer says we need to ‘trade expectations for appreciation’ and I like this. A lot.
Expectations are somewhat tricky. They are a fixation into the future that may or may not happen. I’m not saying we shouldn’t place a directional intention into our future. Not at all. Dream the dream and dream big. But, if we HANG ON to expectations we can end up very disappointed. It’s the fixing rigidity that renders us deflated when it all goes to hell in a handbasket.
The witty dowager from Downton Abbey said to her granddaughter ‘Dear, don’t confuse a wish for a certainty.’
The alternative? Being present. Alert to the surrounds. Being in the strength of your intention and free to move flowingly through it.
As Matt Church says, hold on tight with an open palm.
(ps: I just knew Netflix was educational)
You are doing the best you can.
When look at others I often think ‘that person is doing the best they can with what they know and with what they’ve got’. My friend questioned this thinking the other day. He commented, surely some people could be better?
When look at others I often think ‘that person is doing the best they can with what they know and with what they’ve got’. My friend questioned this thinking the other day. He commented, surely some people could be better?
We are always changing and learning. For sure. But, think of a time when you did something like shout at a fellow car driver for being slow… in that micro-moment you weren’t for some reason able to access the calmer part of yourself. Could you have been better? Thing is, both you AND the slow driver are doing the best you can at that moment.
Does this mean we shouldn’t try harder? Of course not. My point is with every momentary situation, we do the best we can with what we’ve got. Emotionally, intellectually and environmentally.
Next time you see someone behaving in a way that you compare to your own standards. Think to yourself. They are doing the best they can with what they’ve got. You’ll probably notice it’s better for you to be in compassion than judgement too.
I have no…
I have no parents: I make the heavens and earth my parents.
I have no home: I make awareness my home.
I have no divine power: I make honesty my divine power.
I have no parents: I make the heavens and earth my parents.
I have no home: I make awareness my home.
I have no divine power: I make honesty my divine power.
I have no means: I make understanding my means.
I have no magic secrets: I make character my magic secret.
I have no miracles: I make right action my miracles.
I have no friends: I make my mind my friend.
I have no enemy: I make carelessness my enemy.
I have no armour: I make benevolence and righteousness my armour.
~ Samurai Warrior 14th century Japan
Perseverance by Margaret J. Wheatley.
Don’t be annoying
I was watching a very busy event producer work hard this week. Hundreds of people required her attention at the miniscule level across many facets of the day.
I was watching a very busy event producer work hard this week. Hundreds of people required her attention at the miniscule level across many facets of the day.
It was astonishing to see how many people would take her precious time talking about themselves and telling her stories that were entirely self-serving, and not necessary for that moment or helpful to her at all.
As leaders we need to realise that a massive part of our job is to serve and to instil certainty. Crapping on at someone about yourself in the inappropriate moments sub-consciously turns people off. If you’re really unlucky then it’ll cross their conscious mind too.
Serve. Serve. Serve.
Riding fear
My friend asked me if I was afraid of heights. No! I said. Whilst somewhere in the back of my mind I was recalling a teeny weeny fear last time I stood near the window of a very tall building.
My friend asked me if I was afraid of heights. No! I said. Whilst somewhere in the back of my mind I was recalling a teeny weeny fear last time I stood near the window of a very tall building.
Next thing I know I’m sitting on the chair lift high above the crowds at the Royal Show breathing like I’m in labour, holding onto the pole for dear life...
At the very moment I was about to give birth (metaphorically) I remembered I work in behavioural change. The timing was fabulous.
I took deep breaths, told myself I was safe. I asked my friend to tell me a story and focused on him. Then allowed my gaze to softly look out at the other rides at the same height as we were gliding at. Other people were swirling around up here in a much more dangerous fashion than I was.
Next time you feel that fear, remember to find something else to look at that’s parallel to you. It helps you remember you are leveling up and others are up there too.
Next time you feel that fear, ask someone else to help take some of the load.
Next time you feel that fear, don’t look down.
Next time you feel it, know you are stretching yourself.
Next time, still get on the ride.
Freedom can kill ideas
Freedom can freak us out. Sometimes the vastness of possibility can be overwhelming. When there is so much choice it seems like never-ending pathways. So it’s easy to do nothing.
Freedom can freak us out. Sometimes the vastness of possibility can be overwhelming. When there is so much choice it seems like never-ending pathways. So it’s easy to do nothing.
Much the same as perfection, the never-ending pursuit. And as procrastination, the never-ending non-starter.
So, fancy-free sits in the very same buckets as far as I’m concerned. A place where either too much or never gets off the ground prevents progress.
Think of a house being built. It gets drawn up by the architect and builders put scaffolding in place to ensure it stays within its spec. Narrowing down is helpful in choosing one thing, or deciding so that you can make the next step.
Keep it simple.
Draw a box and write inside the box (what is in) and outside the box (what is out). That box represents your boundaries. Write both inside and outside the box on that piece of paper.
Freedom. Too much can kill good ideas.
Freedom. Too much can mean a blank stare.
Even freedom needs to be reined in.
We know more than we think.
We have more instinct than we realise. Whilst painting in a coffee shop I found curiosity pulling many people in my direction, asking me what I was painting. Instead of directly answering, I’d ask them what colour did they think I should use next?
We have more instinct than we realise. Whilst painting in a coffee shop I found curiosity pulling many people in my direction, asking me what I was painting. Instead of directly answering, I’d ask them what colour did they think I should use next?
The common response was, oh I wouldn’t know… I enquired a little further. Even so, what would you choose if you did know? Purple! Red! Orange! The suggestions came flooding out. Uncertainty, with a little smile following.
After helping me choose the next colour and then adding it to the painting together, they saw how easy it was to decide and take part without ‘knowing’.
It seems we know more than we realise. It’s not a cognitive, learned, rigid knowing. It’s a body, heart, intuitive awareness.
Creativity doesn’t need to know. It just needs to act.
Next time you don’t know. Have a guess. Start there and see where you land.
Play your way
Playing the heart.
A piano player - a good one – doesn’t limit herself in playing only the keys she can reach. If she knows the pain and presence of perseverance, the beauty of creating magical sound, she will have learned to reach the furthest keys of the instrument even though her limbs can only just stretch.
Playing the heart.
A piano player - a good one – doesn’t limit herself in playing only the keys she can reach. If she knows the pain and presence of perseverance, the beauty of creating magical sound, she will have learned to reach the furthest keys of the instrument even though her limbs can only just stretch.
Because the music deserves it.
Michael Singer says that we too are supposed to play all the octaves of the heart. Not just the ones that feel the easiest, or most familiar.
Playing the heart takes courage. No matter what you’re playing for. Play it. Be with it. Listen to its rhythm.
Chances are, like the piano player, you’ll create a sound that others want to hear too.