David Baum — Change Through Delight

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. --Dr. Seuss

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Courage Under Fire

There are certain lessons I sometimes need to re-learn. One big one is this. Once I know someones story it is almost impossible for me to not to hold them in the highest of regard. Such was recently the case.

I was running a leadership program in partnership with the University of Western Ontario. It is a long-term, first-class effort for one of their biggest clients. My job is to teach change theory. And bless their hearts, both the client and UWO allow me to do some very wild and unorthodox programming. In the section on leading with courage, I pull from my circus past. Metaphorically underscoring the leap of faith that is often times the mark of true leadership, I teach participants to eat fire!

It is out there, but the client loves it and it is very, very effective. I might also add that the risk is largely perceived rather than real. Imagine the event. Forty people, one by one, cheered on by their classmates, coming up to the front, lighting a torch and extinguishing it in their mouth. Most, when done are jumping in excitement. All are inspired. It is an unforgettable evening of power, motivation and shared risk taking.

About half way through the evening a woman walks to the front to take her turn. She is very nervous. What strikes me is that I simply don't recognize her. I have been working with the group all day, and yet I can't recall seeing this woman in my class. To me, she has been, until this moment, literally invisible. Also, she is shaking. I am thinking, "I hope she has the courage to go through with this."

She leans over and whispers, "I'm only going to put the flame in my mouth once." This instead of the three-four times that everyone else is doing and then extinguishing the flame by closing their lips around the lit torch. "I'm terrified", she adds, as if it is not evident.

"Don't worry", I try to reassure. "I will keep you totally safe". Then she says something which will forever change my definition of courage.

"When I was a child" she quietly murmurs, "I set myself on fire, including my hair. I don't allow fire of any kind in my home. No candles or gas stove. I have never even lit a match."

Dear lord. How could I have not seen this woman who was about to put the deepest of trust in me? This was an act of monumental proportions.

I instruct her to tell the group what she whispered to me. There are audible gasps from a few, respectful silence from the rest. She steadies herself, focuses on the flame with narrowed eyes and puts the torch in her mouth--slowly, calmly, with no hesitation. She does it cleanly and perfectly. Then she stuns us all and does it again!

The group erupts into wild, spontaneous applause and a standing ovation. The "invisible woman" in a few seconds has turned into the hero of the group. She is unforgettable to us all. Tearfully she returns to her seat, forever re-writing her life and the lives of all who witnessed this remarkable moment. Later she reports that afterwards she immediately called home, to a family in disbelief and joy. She has, in the most public and powerful of ways, put to rest a long and painful demon.

I am not sure what it is about the human condition that makes us leap to conclusions and justify our pre-conceived judgments. I just know that the next time someone appears invisible to me, I will remember this courageous woman and her act of heroism. I will pause, call up the look in her eyes when she fearlessly confronted her terror and try and learn more of the yet untold story.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Our Flaw in National Character

I do not typically post political content. However, I have been so concerned by the leadership gap at all levels since Katrina, I felt moved to write the following.

Like many of you I have been horrified and overwhelmed by the tragedy of Katrina. So many people displaced and poorly treated, matched only by horrendous leadership at all levels. For the past weeks, I have been looking for two words from anyone in government, two words that may help in the national healing and more importantly prevent this from occurring again. Those two words are, "I'm sorry". I won't be holding my breath. Sadly, the spin-doctors have convinced our elected representatives that to admit fault is a sign of weakness, and the only way to handle a mistake is to escalate one's commitment to an already bad decision. "That's my story and I'm stickin' to it" has become the strategy for getting out of trouble, even when thousands of lives and billions of dollars have been lost. We live in an age of limited responsibility and "not playing the blame game" really means "not playing the accountability game". The buck that stopped here was long ago spent on Karl Rove.

This is a national epidemic and failure of our country's character. Ultimately, to say you are sorry takes deep courage. It is the right and just thing to do. It is a flaw of huge proportions not to apologize, especially when the errors in judgment have cost so much. As a parent I would be embarrassed if I raised my kids to exhibit the levels of arrogance and certainty I have recently seen in all levels of our government. But there is something even more insidious in this behavior. It prevents true learning and real change from occurring. As long as our leaders are unwilling to admit mistakes, then the ability to take life's events and translate them into transformation is impossible. If all we do is say "It wasn't me" or "I did nothing wrong", how can fundamental shifts occur. When our commitment to looking good is stronger than our commitment to honest self-reflection and learning, we stay stuck in the justification of our errors.

Learning only happens when an individual understands that there have been real consequences from mistakes of judgment or action. Without this awareness, no hope exists for future difference. Frankly I don't understand why our government has less of a moral backbone than the simple lessons we teach our children. In my experience, even the worst of mistakes can be forgiven if we are willing to do three things.

First, we must apologize, with sincerity and without self-justification. An apology that says, "I'm sorry, but if you hadn't done this, I wouldn't have done that," is no apology at all. What is needed is an expression of true remorse that conveys the impact of our decisions or actions. Second, we should talk about what we’ve learned from the experience. This helps put the situation in a learning context, and even in extreme circumstances, can help create connection and movement. Finally, and most critically, we need to say what we will do differently going forward. During times of national disaster, politics as usual does nothing more than polarize us as a nation into finger pointing and deflected accountability. Were I one of the thousands of Gulf residents displaced, my life destroyed, I would want local, state and federal leaders whose highest commitment was to action and not to politcal spin and saving face.

A favorite saying goes, “Good experience comes from good judgment. And good judgment comes from bad experience.” This only occurs when one admits error. “I am sorry. I made a mistake”, is the first true step to any substantive learning and even healing.

Monday, September 05, 2005

The Disconnection of Metaphor

Mark Nepo, in his lovely book, The Exquisite Risk, writes that the Native American view is held to keep it's people connected to the directness of life.

"One way it does this" Nepo compels, "is to say, We do not believe in metaphor. For metaphor blocks our being touched directly by the many faces of the Great Spirit. As Westerner's, we say the wind is like God's voice. But the Native American says, the wind is God's voice. We say water is like the earth's blood. But the Native American says, the water is the earth's blood. "

This a fascinating point of view.

Metaphor, while a useful device for trying to get a handle on our experiences, can in fact be a subtle process of disconnection from our life and dreams. Every time we say, "I felt like..." or "I experienced God like..." we create a barrier between our own experience and the way it is being integrated. The word itself comes from the Greek word, metaphora, and means "to transfer". The problem is, that as in the child's game "Whisper Down the Lane", this transfer is rarely clean and without loss of meaning. While a useful tool for communication, metaphor dissuades the direct path in.

The advice is simple. Try tracking for one month your use of metaphor. If you are prone to saying, "I felt like..." take the word "like" out and be more direct. See if your use of metaphor is really intended to soften the power of your message and comes from a place of insufficiency or discomfort.

At a larger level, try and see the world in a non-metaphorical way. Watch a sunset, stand at the ocean or listen to the wind. Describe what you see, in relationship to God, but do so without metaphor. Then track what is different. Rather than being like a reed in the wind, moving to a larger grace, you will be that reed, and the grace you feel may take you to a deeper place.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

The Braided Path of Learning

In learning there are two paths that take us to transformation. Both can move us into our preferred futures and each are essential for learning and growth. These two paths are intertwined, and when in balance make our lives easier and more fluid. When braided together these paths become critical allies for personal movement and change. But when out of balance they can hinder our inner development and cause either misery or numbness. Both are ways to process information and seek clarity. And both are essential for making movement in life's struggles. Like dawn and dusk, evenness between these two must be sought to make our journey an effective one. The task is to walk the "both-and" of this learning relationship and to remember (as my grandmother used to say when asked the secret to life), "Everything in moderation."

The first path to learning is called "In and Thru".

"In and Thru" means fully involving ourselves in the experience we are currently in. "In and Thru" is all about being fully present in the moment, and is the path of emotional integrity and the heart. In this way of learning our attention is on "being". That is, we are being whatever we are experiencing, feeling it fully and using our fullness to take us through to a new level of transformation. Like a butterfly struggling to free itself from a cocoon, "In and Thru" is all about calling our creativity and resources forward in the moment, and using everything we have to engage in a new way of being in the present. It is less about understanding and more about our "being" taking us to a different place.

Think of a time when you were so fully in the moment, that the experience itself was transformative. Illness, crisis or love can be such a time--all examples of "In and Thru".

There are questions we can ask to move us along this path. They are:

  1. What am I feeling right now?
  2. Given my feelings, what is the braver, more intimate thing to say or do?"

"In and Thru" resides in the emotional realm, and the present moment is all that matters. This mind set is embodied by the Zen expression, "When chopping wood, chop wood. When washing dishes, wash dishes. There is nothing else."

The goal on this path is to so fully feel what you are experiencing that you are taken in and thru to the other side of learning. Breakthrough is created by the full embodiment of whatever you are currently in. And the way through is to feel the moment and continue to deepen and open to it's gifts. What you feel, you feel deeply, what you experience is full tilt. You do not hold back, but go for it. As Patrick O'Neil says, "Be bold or go home."

However, a life of only "In and Thru" is rarely happy or productive. To fully reside in the emotional moment, without the discernment that comes from experience and understanding, can be one of both misery and indulgence. Without a process of distance this path is a life destined to be lived without either meaning or movement, and like a floored car in neutral, your engine will race but not really go anywhere.

What's required for movement is the integration of the second path, called "Up and Out". This is the way of understanding and detachment, the route of stepping away from our experience to ask, "What does this mean to me at this time?" It is the path that utilizes the mind, and instead of about being is conversely about becoming. Rather than focus on the present, it is about implications, learnings and the future.

"Up and Out" uses the skill of equanimity, defined as the ability to meet any disturbance that comes our way without creating additional internal disturbance. We do not get emotionally involved in the process, but instead take the cool eye of a surgeon and act from clarity and experience.

Questions that can move along this path are:
  1. What am I learning from this experience?
  2. What are the implications of this moment for my life moving forward?

An exclusive "Up and Out" path, however, is not without cost. When out of balance it leads one to numbness and emotional stunting. Brilliant surgeons are not always loving spouses or parents. A dispassionate doctor is one thing...a dispassionate lover another.

The secret is to know that each of us has a predisposition to one form over the other. Some of us take the path of emotion and heart, others the path of detachment and the mind. There is not one better than the other. Both must be used to be truly effective. A quick clue for success is to try and bring balance to your learning style. If you are one who tends to move into emotional indulgence then try bringing the question "What am I learning from this?" continuously forward. If you are prone to denial, then ask, "How can I express my feelings more deeply at this time?"

Robert Frost wrote, "We dance around the circle and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows." Move to the middle in your change and braid your learning path.