It was the author Ursula Le Guin's birthday this week.In her novel A Wizard of Earthsea, the young wizard Ged, eager to become powerful and knowledgable, begins his apprenticeship with his first true teacher, the elderly Ogion.For the first few months, they mostly accompany one another in silence. Ged sweeps the floor, tends to the goats, prepares food. They take long walks through the tall trees and groves of the nearby forest. It's an immersion into the everyday. No talk of magic, no talk of spells, no talk of knowledge.One afternoon, with growing frustration, Ged turns to his master. "When are you going to start teaching me?". And Ogion, with great patience, turns to his student. "The lesson began long ago and all around you", he tells him, "but you did not discover yet where to look for it."So many of us wear our cynicism and our world-weariness as a badge of sophistication, as if it's a mark of our intelligence that nothing can touch us, no idea or possibility or hope move us, no idea illuminate our lives. We've seen it all, we tell ourselves. We know what's what. And in doing so we separate ourselves from our lives.But, like Ged, it might be possible even then to find out that everything and everyone can be our teacher, if we'll only drop our defences and rigidity long enough to let the world in. We might discover, as Ged does, that genuine wisdom is cultivated by never setting oneself apart from life and from other living things.And, as the years unfold, perhaps we get to learn as Ged does, "what can be learned, in silence, from the eyes of animals, the flight of birds, the great slow gestures of trees."
Photo Credit: Emma Lucia Gregory

You say goodbye to her, perhaps at the doorway, perhaps with a hug, and you both say to one another 'see you soon'.But, as with every parting, you cannot know if that's true.So many possibilities. So many reasons why 'see you again' might not come to pass.Does remembering that, occasionally, help to bring you back in touch with the living, breathing wonder that she is, and that you are too?
It's easy to relate to life as if you're separate from it. As if life is something that happens to you or as if it's possible to reach out and manage life from a distance.Isn't that mostly how we experience ourselves?But if you look for a while, you may discover that there's no separation at all. That you are life, and life is you.How could it be otherwise? The body we each take to be our own is made up of trillions of cells, each bequeathed to us by a history that stretches back through millennia to the first single-celled creatures. Its structure, from the microscopic to the organisation of bones, muscles, organs is shared with billions of others living alongside us, and tens of billions more share aspects of it - eyes, hearts, blood, nerves, brains, cellular processes, hormones, enzymes. And all of that arises from the elements available on the planet we all inhabit and from the energetic processes made possible by the light and warmth of the sun.Where we each take ourselves to end - at the surface of our skin, perhaps - is not where life ends, at all.Given all of this, how could you possibly be separate from life?You are life or, put another way, the way that life is expressing itself right now.Or, you're the way life lives itself.And, given this, perhaps you can give up fighting for a while, and instead wonder at a world in which we get to be all of this, without having to ask or do anything to earn it.
If you're tired of the ways fitting in has you bending yourself out of shape - particularly if you're in one of those many environments in the world that talk about change while maintaining a dogged insistence on speaking, working, observing and practicing in long-standing, familiar ways - some words of support adapted from
The fifth post in a series exploring
The third post in a series exploring
The second post in a series exploring
The foundational conversation is a conversation for relationship, in which we're understanding one another and finding out together whether we have any basis for action. Miss this and it's extraordinarily hard for us to agree why we're working together. It's difficult to dive in wholeheartedly. And equally difficult to understand what is being asked of us by others.On the shoulders of the conversation for relationship stands a conversation for possibility. Given the shared concerns, commitments and understanding from the conversation for relationship, what possibilities can we see? Are there any we care enough about on which to take action? And what are we ready to commit to, together? This is where hopes, aspirations, and creative responses take wing.Just watch how the energy for a project can dissipate if you don't explore possibilities fully. And if you haven't had a full and frank conversation for possibility, you run the risk of launching into action that nobody feels committed to taking. See
One of the great contributions of the philosophers
If you want to bring about change in any system - from your inner world to a whole organisation - one skill you can work on is naming.When we have a name for something - table, chair, thought, mood, conversation, relationship, inner critic - we give ourselves a way of pointing to it, observing it, and talking about it in the world we share with others. We bring it into the light so that it can be seen, greatly increasing our capacity to observe, make choices, and act.What's important to see here is that our patterns of conversation tend to repeatedly draw attention to some things while leaving others unobserved. We keep this going by insisting on speaking in the same way, with the same language, and with the same people over and over. In this way our speaking becomes habitual, and loses its much of its power to reveal things to us. And what's unobserved remains in the background, where whatever effect it is having remains silent and invisible.We mostly have hardly a clue how much of human life is in the background at any moment, how much it is shaping us, and how little attention we're paying to it.So skilful naming has power. It's no wonder that in ancient mythology names are understood to give great influence over people and situations and that the simple act of naming daemons, the silent shadowy forces of the underworld, immediately robs them of much of their potency.And this is why you can open many possibilities by paying attention to patterns in your private, inner conversation and in your conversation with others, and by introducing names for what is currently unnamed. The more precise the naming, and the more you use it to bring forward those aspects of the background that are shaping things, the more powerful the possibilities.And if you're interested, you can do much to learn new words - distinctions - that you don't yet have in order to do this. Study books, talks, people, poems, songs, movies. Attend courses.And instead of staying in your own familiar world with its patterns and habits of language, spend time with people who live and work in very different situations to you. The distinctions that are central in their world, and that are right on the margins of your own, can be among the most powerful ones to discover.