Signposts for the Quest

It is the act in which I detach —so that I may be more fully present.

This summer I was on the move,
traveling distances to visit family and long-time friends,
celebrating anniversaries and enjoying reunions.
I had days packed with relaxing activities!
I also had my concerns:
my mother’s knee surgery 
an older friend’s loss of short-term memory. 
And I stayed in touch with work,
revising a paper for publication,
advising graduate students pressing to complete their theses
(done in snatched moments via email en route).

I relish the variation on my usual routine that summer brings
but often feel ungrounded,
like I’m spread across the country,
with undigested reactions to experiences strewn along the jet stream. 
As the summer proceeds,
I feel less and less available
to the moment I’m experiencing,
to the rare face-to-face presence of a cherished person.
Inadvertently, I’ve found helpful
an adaptation of my life-long practice of journaling. 

Usually, journaling is the place I narrate events,
work through thoughts,
jot down dreams and ruminate about their meaning –
where I reflect on the deeper currents
flowing below the daily events of my life. 
However, sitting in an airport terminal waiting for a flight,
I find it difficult to deepen enough to write in these ways. 
I write comments such as,
“Great!  They’ve just announced that
the flight’s been delayed another hour.  ARG!”
or “I just ate this delicious fish taco
from the Mexican restaurant at Midway in Chicago.  Yum!” 
Even though at the back of my mind,
I have a dream I want to document,
or a new spiritual insight into a problematic situation,
what I’m experiencing is this everyday irksome reality.

However, this summer I realized that
such comments actually serve a purpose: 
they help me acknowledge the moment I’m in,
and leave me free to move on from it. 
Noting this, I began paying attention to my reactions to things,
particularly the ones that seemed to be hanging around
in my thoughts, emotions, and body
after I’d moved on from the situation.
I started writing them down,
no matter how mundane. 
I wrote them into my journal
along with my dreams,
the insights,
the recipe to the delicious dessert my friend made me,
the bliss of floating in the icy waters of Puget Sound,
my exclamations over seeing former classmates,
the haiku I wrote with my twelve-year-old nephew
about our family’s summer afternoon activities. 

I didn’t worry about writing any particular way
except to express exactly what was on my mind
and in my heart
onto the smooth inviting white paper of my journal. 
The black ink flowing through my pen
carried what was in me out onto the page
so that when I closed my journal and put it away,
I could move on to the next moment
free and available to whatever was happening next.

A practice I’ve heard attributed to Buddhism
is to be present and non-attached in situations,
particularly with other people. 
Journaling is the act 
by which I am able to digest reactions and responses,
not only those holdovers from the past
I encounter with family members,
friends of thirty years,
and reminders of the self I once was,
but also simply whatever might happen. 
It is the act through which I detach
so that I may be more fully present.

Redirecting Energy—From Fear to Action

Throughout our modern society, fear pervades our lives
– from the fear of terrorism or weapons of mass destruction
to the more basic fears of illness, aging, loneliness, and death.
And over the past few years,
both our government and our media culture
have highlighted those fears with terror alerts,
increased military engagements across the globe,
and advertising that encourages us to buy goods to pacify our insecurities.
But as Frances Moore Lappé and Jeffrey Perkins point out in their book
You Have the Power: Choosing Courage in a Culture of Fear,
the self-insulation that results from these fears
prevents us from becoming our true selves,
nourishing our spirits,
and taking a stand in order to make positive changes in the world.

Lappé and Perkins explore seven myths we hold about fear
and declare that fear itself is simply neutral energy
that can signal one’s step into the unknown.
Instead of allowing fear to paralyze us,
we can instead heed its call
to listen to that inner voice
that may prompt us to take a different path,
to do something different with our lives.
While this may involve taking risks
or engaging in conflict
or losing connection with others,
we may find that the fear dissipates in the face of new possibilities.
The authors present multiple instances from their own lives
and from people they have met
to show how engaging fear
and trying to learn from it
can make us stronger,
more confident,
and able to make a profound difference in others’ lives
by leading by example.

While You Have the Power can be found
in the “self-help” section of the bookstore,
it offers less of a “how to overcome fear” manual
than a collection of inspiring anecdotes and ideas
for rethinking our attitudes toward fear.
Some stories reveal how one person
can set aside the notion of
“I’m only one person – I can’t make a difference”
and motivate others
to advocate for social or political reforms.
Other stories show how redirecting energy
from fear to action
can enrich the spirit in a deeply personal way.
Lappé and Perkins provide discussion questions
and ideas for “courage circles”
for those people who dare
(and instill courage in others)
to say no to the fear-mongerers
and yes to the unknown,
to a brave new world,
and to ourselves.

Labyrinth Walking: Possibilities For Wayfinding

Among the instruments
that aid in the journey of spiritual formation
is the ancient ritual of walking a labyrinth.
As one walks the pattern,
there is no embedded ruse —
no necessary intellectual choice —
regarding which path to take:
There is only one path.

Within this particular spiritual exercise,
the potential for wayfinding God’s call becomes evident.
The simple elegance of the pattern,
the recurring turns of the journey —
sometimes sudden —
challenge one’s cognitive orientation,
bringing the heart into the journey and
relegating the head to follow.
Because there is no dead reckoning for the exit,
a different sort of mindfulness grows,
allowing God to inform the journey
through the pace,
through the opportunity to listen.

Many walkers enter with a personal ritual:
a prayer, a reverent bow,
a single sacred word, or small cross in hand.
Tradition asks one to leave behind
anger, hurt, worldly care
on the first few turns —
and then to stop for reflection at the center.
After this opportunity for inward reflection,
one walks the same path outward,
anticipating a new perspective.

Many walkers use free-form prayer.
Others choose prayers memorized from years of personal tradition.
Some focus on breaths in and out,
others focus on an item that engages the senses.
If one is alone on the labyrinth
(a necessity in this case so as not to disturb others)
some dance or run the path.

This simple, yet elegant, tool
allows the Spirit to calm worldly unease and
allows God to enter in —
gifting insights and new perspectives,
helping one wayfind God’s call.

~~~~~~~~~

We recently walked
two extraordinary outdoor labyrinths.
Both walks reminded us of a friend’s theory
that stress is related
to humanity’s loss of connection with God’s creation.
Walking these particular labyrinths
brought us
back to earth.

After entering the labyrinth
at Crown Point Ecology Center in Bath, Ohio
one walks the circular path
through a meadow of prairie grasses and native growth:
Queen Anne’s Lace, clover, yarrow, thistles. . .
The scents of summer on the cool breeze, and
the sounds of insects living in the moment
supply worship space
for rest, prayer, and reflection.

In Gainesville, Florida
one must follow the parallel tire tracks
behind the parking lot of the Florida School of Massage*
to a tropically lush setting of
Spanish Moss-draped live oaks, palms, cactus, and
gently wild and brilliant yellow and black striped butterflies.
Two joyful statues welcome each sojourner
at the entrance of this stunning path.

If your feet rush ahead of your spirit, as ours do
— pushed by day planner lists,
goals and objectives,
worry, and responsibility —
one can set them aside in places such as these.
Integrating oneself —
mind and spirit —
and discerning an individual call
can (and does) take place when we decelerate enough
to walk humbly with God,
accepting and acting upon our unique experience
as we go into the world.

Resources for Labyrinth Walking:
√ The Cathedral Labyrinths, Grace Cathedral, San Francisco, CA
√ Cathedral of Hope Labyrinth Ministry, Pittsburgh, PA

* 6421 SW 13th Street, Gainesville, FL 32600 — tele: (352)378-7891

Inciting a New Creativity

Since the industrial revolution
we have been taught to focus on individual parts of the whole,
perceiving people in specific roles,
even as cogs in grand machinery.

Margaret Wheatley proposes a major paradigm change in her book Leadership
and the New Science — a change so radical that it may give leaders a con-
ceptual whiplash: She suggests exploring ways that biology and chemistry affect
living systems, noting that nature adapts and self-organizes in response to its
continually changing environment. She also advocates looking at the “new
sciences” of chaos theory and quantum physics to see how these principles and
systemic patterns of interaction might apply positively to human organizational
theory.

For organization leaders highly trained in specialization of functions and central-
ized control, allowing disorder and free interchange of information with an
emphasis on relationships seem reckless. Yet, there are many examples of
decentralized systems in which orderly patterns appear and creativity flourishes.
One of Wheatley’s natural system organization examples:
A cloud is a natural system
that changes its shape continuously,
that responds quickly to powerful, unseen forces,
yet it fulfills its mission to suspend 50 million gallons of water
in virtual mid-air
—and all without a single organizational chart.
Wheatley suggests that it is this systemic flexibility that is needed for organizations to effectively fulfill their mission in a variable world. In Leadership and the New Science, Wheatley demonstrates, through a number of corporate examples, that plans and systems do emerge; however, they are not externally imposed in advance — and the results show a self-renewing spirit within the organization.

For faith-based organizations the leap seems natural:
Facing the world with faith exposed
(and letting go of our wish to command and control)
allows God to enter our lives,
inciting a new creativity.

Resources for the Leader/Hero's Quest:
√ Wheatley, Margaret J. Leadership and the New Science: Discovering Order in a Chaotic World. 2nd ed. San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1999.

√ Leadership and the New Science CRM Films

√ www.margaretwheatley.com