I've been writing for a while about the necessity, for each of us, of turning towards our shadow - all those parts of ourselves we started to push away and deny from the first moment we encountered disapproval from others.We each acquired a shadow for good reason. It's part of the necessary development from the wild everythingness of a new-born towards social acceptability - surviving as part of a clan or tribe, a family or society. We acquire a shadow in the name of appropriateness, approval and acceptability.Beyond a certain point, though, the shadow is troublesome because it blinds us to ourselves. Whole aspects of ourselves become invisible to us, and we deny they are part of us. Often we'll see them in others who become the target of our scorn, derision and judgment. "I could never be that way", we say when, more truthfully, we are precisely that way but cannot see it.If we are going to create lives in which we can respond fully, compassionately and creatively - families, organisations, societies too - it seems to me that we have a responsibility to turn towards our own shadows and learn about them, so we can fully understand and draw from what's there.
And, as I've been reminded today by the wonderful Hollie Holden, one of the very best books on this subject is, in fact, a beautiful novel from 1973, A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K Le Guin. How this book became labelled only as 'children's literature' mystifies me - it's deep, generous, rich in narrative and characterisation, and spot on about what it takes to meet our own shadow and grow up through the experience. I couldn't recommend it more highly.
Learn with me
So much of what I've been writing about here over these past nine months has arisen from the work I do supporting people in their development in both their professional and personal lives.If you'd like to come and learn with me and my colleagues, and can be in London on Monday 3rd and Tuesday 4th February, we will be running our next session of Coaching to Excellence, a two-day introduction to coaching others in a pragmatic, compassionate and profoundly developmental way.It's also the foundation for a bigger programme that's a work of enormous love for us, our year-long Professional Coaching Course.You can find all the details here.We'd love for you to join us.
Speak to me from the darkness
Compassion is knowing our own darkness well enough that we can sit in the darkness with others.
And it is a relationship between equals, never a relationship between the wounded and the healed.
-- Pema Chödrön
When I'm feeling ashamed at what I've done - an ordinary, human course of events in which I've made a choice I regret - the last thing I need you to do is to tell me what I could have done differently.The judgement inherent in your advice prolongs my shame, and increases the distance between us.Speak to me instead from that part of you that knows you could find yourself in a similar situation.And, please, show me you see my humanity, and that you share it too.
Sympathy and Empathy
When someone is in difficulty, in a dark hole in their lives:Sympathy:
standing on the edge, calling "I'm so sorry for you" down into the darknessand quietly thinking "How awful, I'd never get myself in that situation"
Empathy:
climbing down into the darkness with them, to let them know you're thereknowing that the other person is just like you - in another time, another place, it could so easily be you who finds yourself in this darkness
Sympathy: a judgement of the other, a standing apart.Empathy: seeing their humanity, yours, and the fragile existence you both share.Sympathy tries to fix or rescue, always from a distance.Empathy comes in close, knowing that there's often nothing to be fixed, and that it's relationship that matters the most.This distinction, so clear and powerful, is from Brené Brown, and beautifully illustrated in this short video inspired by one of her talks at London's RSA.[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Evwgu369Jw]
The mind's stream
If you are still - really still - for a while, you might start to notice the stream of thought that runs below the surface of everything, a stream that seems to flow on and on even when you're not consciously thinking at all.Like most of us, perhaps you're so caught up in this stream that you hardly notice it. But all the time it's affecting you - ushering in particular moods, comparing you with others, making plans and undoing them again, judging, blaming, hoping, longing, musing, playing, working things out.This stream of thought is an expression of your relationship with yourself, with time, with life. Watching it attentively, so you can see what is really there, can be startling and liberating, because it's shaping so much of what you do and don't do, and what it feels like to be you.If you practice being still and watching this regularly enough and for long enough, you can gradually develop the capacity to see through your habitual patterns of thinking instead of being caught up in them. And when you're no longer bound so tightly by the horizons of an otherwise invisible current, the world gets just a little bigger.Such mindfulness is an important skill for each of us to cultivate, because often we put all our attention downstream, on our actions and their consequences, rather than upstream on what gives rise to them.And it's an important leadership skill, because if you don't know yourself well enough to see through what's shaping you, how can you expect to take responsibility for your actions, or understand others?
Not pretty
Life calls on us to be whole, which in turn calls on us to embrace the parts of ourselves that we've hidden away or denied - all the parts of being human that we're sure are nothing to do with us.
The alternative is one-sidedness, in which we are gripped by a single end of each of life's great polarities. We come to strongly prefer - or perhaps demand - perfection over mess, control over uncertainty, doubt over trust, going it alone over requesting help, peace over disagreement, success over sincerity, and so on.We become convinced that the side we've chosen is the truth. And we come to see ourselves in a similarly one-sided way - perfect, or broken.Being whole requires us to choose the middle path that includes both sides. Not easy, and probably not pretty either, because it calls on us to take responsibility for the darkness within us as well as the light.But if we're going to find a way to lead, teach and inspire others - and seize the chance for a fulfilling life while we're at it - it's vital and urgent work for each of us.
So fast
Why are we committed to going so fast, to doing so much without end?We, the people who have watches and clocks, but have apparently forgotten what it is to have time.
Photo Credit: JD Hancock via Compfight cc
A year of discernment
Perhaps this could be a year of unusual discernment for you.Instead of your usual habits, pay close attention to what you read, who and what you listen to, and particularly to what you say.Notice what dulls you. What twists you out of shape. What sends you asleep to yourself and to the world. You can be sure if you're diminishing yourself, you're also diminishing the people around you.Notice what brings you vibrantly to life.Does this sound like an irrelevant question? I can assure you, it's of the greatest and most practical importance.Because if we're going to address the challenges ahead of us, we urgently need you to be wide awake, and we need you to shine... so that we can all shine too.
Gifts from the you of yesterday
If you're going to take up one new practice in 2014, I'd strongly recommend keeping a daily journal.Use it as a place to record questions, thoughts, feelings, experiences, and insights, rather than simply an account of what you did. Treat it as a space in which to muse, doodle, wonder and wander; in which to discover what you didn't know you knew; and in which to tap into the deep undercurrents of creativity and insight that are often just out of sight.As a regular journal writer myself, I can think of few more powerful and enriching ways of discovering the hidden threads that run through a life. Maria Popova over at Brain Pickings has been writing about this topic too. I love the way she describes journalling as an 'existential upgrade'.Here's what to do:
- Buy the most gorgeous journal you can find - with high quality paper that's satisfying to look at and to touch. Good quality, inviting materials make a huge difference to the experience.
- Choose a pen that's equally satisfying to write with. A good fountain pen is unbeatable for this.
- Set aside a fixed amount of time every day, say ten or fifteen minutes, ideally at a regular time of day.
- And then, just write. Some hints on this from an earlier post, are here.
Reading back over a journal as it unfolds can be an illuminating experience. You'll see patterns you weren't aware were there, recurrent themes and 'new' discoveries that you seem to forget and re-discover time and again. And perhaps you'll receive the gift of deep and practical wisdom given to the reader you are today by the writer you were yesterday.Please share with me your experience of taking on this practice.I'd love to hear how you're getting on.
Photo Credit: angela7dreams via Compfight cc
A year of days
To remember for the new year:
Days are like scrolls. Write on them what you want to be remembered.Bachya Ibn Pakuda
and
How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.
Annie Dillard
Photo Credit: another.point.in.time via Compfight cc