Naming Our Voices

A friend and I were in a conversation recently and she told me that she was working with a career coach. One of the things that the coach had suggested was to identify, and name, the different voices that regularly speak to her.

Now you might be resistant to the idea that you hear voices, but if you are anything like me, in your head is an almost constant silent conversation. In the past, I have labeled some of the thoughts that I have heard, like  "blaming" or "jealousy."

But my friend's coach did not suggest that. Insteand, she suggested naming them like acquaintances. "Betty" or "Melissa," for example. I did not say anything at the time but that seemed rather silly to me.

After sitting with it for a few days, though, I think I'm beginning to see wisdom there. Many of us have acquaintances who are incredibly upbeat and supportive. And we have others who nag or put down or are simply always negative. It is that way with our voices, too. When I call something "judgment," it seems heavy, like something I should resist. But "Henry" is just annoying. Henry is no more part of me than any of my "in the flesh" companions are.

If I notice Henry going off again, eventually I will get sick of him, and he will move on. Henry may show up for awhile (after all, I've known him for quite some time), but he will eventually tire of me, just like I am tired of him.

Jeff

Shared Stories

Much of this blog has been devoted to pointing to a place beyond stories, to what Peter Fenner calls "unconditioned awareness." When we are in that space, we don't know where we are. We are aware of that which is aware, which has no boundaries or characteristics, which cannot even be said to exist or not exist.

We have also talked about personal stories, those assumptions that we bring into our lives, which in fact create much of what we view as the world. That people are inherently good, or bad. That the world is inherently just, or cruel. That life is easy, or hard.

There might be a third category. I'm not sure. But it seems to me that some stories are deeply personal, and some are shared. When we look at books, or our storytelling traditions, or even back to the original stories that have since become myth, we see the same plots over and over again.

Boy gets girl. David beats Goliath. Man faces temptation (or temptress). Ambition leads to a "deal with the Devil."

These myths shape our lives as well. When viewed backwards, we often reform our experiences into one of these myths. We can come to view our lives as a heroic quest, whether that quest is a search for honor or wisdom or treasure.

But to know ourselves, it seems that we have to step beyond these stories, too. What are we that is beyond our childhoods, our relationships, our mythical quests? Who is it behind our eyes?

In our quests, we are saying that what we are looking for is not this, is not here, is not now. And there is joy in experiencing that journey.

But wherever we go, we are still right here. We can travel the world over and never leave our front doorstep. We can see our stories, and see beyond them, too.

Jeff

Having Courage

The poet David Whyte has written a couple of great books about corporate life. His first book on this topic is The Heart Aroused, which is a contemplation on the role of the soul in corporate America. Lately, I've been rereading it. It's powerful stuff.

A theme that comes up over and over again is one of career as an exercise in personal courage.

That resonates for me. It feels like one of the key themes of our exploration here, too. As we develop in our careers, we can face difficult choices--

Do I speak up, or do I stay silent?

Do I take on the new assignment, or do I stay with the tried and true?

Do I take a new job, or make a career change, or go back to school? Or do I do what I have always done?

Each of these decisions is about courage. The courage to say or do something new. The courage to find and express our authentic selves in a world that can seem to discourage (which means "to deprive of courage") expression.

We can feel that doing what we have always done is the safe option, but in today's turbulent times, nothing could be further from the truth. Staying the same can be the biggest risk of all.

The question isn't if we need to change, it is how. And how to get the courage, or encouragement, to do so.

Jeff

Hidden Wounds

We all have wounds from where we have been hurt. Sometimes, we don't even want to acknowledge them. Like a cornered dog, we snap at anyone who tries to get close.

We can be so good at hiding these wounds that we are not even conscious of them. Instead, we just start snapping. Recently, I found myself attacking someone, insisting that I was right and that this person (to whom I happen to be married) was out of line, that she was being disrespectful.

When we find ourselves defending something, or fuming that someone else is doing something inappropriate, there is generally something worth investigating. It could be that at the center of our blaming is a deep wound, one that we have carefully protected even from ourselves.

It took awhile for me to see that. I went unconscious for awhile--the defenses took over and I focused all my energies on the terrible ways my wife was behaving. But then, as rational thought returned, I started noticing my urge to protect, and wondering "what is it that I am not seeing? What is it that I am protecting?"

In this case, I found a deep insecurity about my abilities as a parent. And I am grateful to my wife for helping me see it. Of course, it could be anything. The blessing is in the seeing. When we become aware of our wounds, they often begin to heal on their own.

Jeff

Accept and Achieve

Most of what is written about the spiritual path is about acceptance--whether it is acceptance of our circumstance, or of the parts of ourselves (the shadow) that we do not like to think about. There is great value in this view. When we accept (and stop resisting), we can see things for what they are, rather than what we would like them to be. We stop thinking that things should be different than they are. The level of frustration that we feel goes down.

But there is another side to this. Sometimes, when accept, we also free up energy to do other things. We might stop thinking as much about what others might think, or the bad things that might happen if we pursue a certain course.

Instead, we might find ourselves trying things that we would not have tried before. This could mean going after a promotion in our company, volunteering for a special project, or just voicing our opinion in a way that we have not before.

This kind of courage can be part of the spiritual path, too. In fact, courage can be the spiritual path itself.

To do something new without knowing why might be the most spiritual of all acts. By doing so, we show faith in life itself. Faith in the glorious not knowing of simple action.

Jeff

Busy Busy

It can seem like we are busier than ever. But I wonder.

How busy would we be if we were not looking at our Blackberries or email every five minutes?

How busy would we be if we quit multitasking?

How busy would we be if we did not feel the need to be busy?

How busy would we be if we were not spending any effort, energy, or time, on avoiding things?

It can seem like there is not nearly enough time to do all the things that we need to. But when we observe how we actually spend our time, we can get a different picture.

My practice for today will be to observe when I am doing things, when I am just thinking about the things that I need to do, and when I am checking screens (Blackberry, email) to see if there is something new to do, or something to distract me from what I should be doing.

How much times each day are we actually adding value? And what are we doing with the rest of our time?

Jeff

Highs and Lows

Last week I did a big presentation for a prospect in Boston. The meeting involved a lot of preparation, and I was presenting with people who are very senior, who have been at my company a long time, and who are tough critics.

It wasn't perfect, but I did very well. And I got good feedback from people both internally and at the prospect.

This meeting had taken weeks to put together. It had involved lots of conversations to design and get feedback on an agenda, and coordination across several people to help pull together and edit the Powerpoint slides. There was frustration in getting everyone on the same page, but there was a lot of teamwork, too.

And the meeting came off, about as well as we could have hoped.

It is always good to hear that things went well. But I was noticing that while hearing those things felt good, that was not what I was reacting to. In the afterglow of the presentation, as I was talking with someone about how things had gone, I realized that I was reacting to adrenaline. Pure and simple. It was the adrenaline rush that felt best of all--not the things that were said.

I love learning new things and taking on new challenges. I love roller coasters and other scary rides. And while I used to be scared to death of speaking in public, I now love that, too. Doing a big presentation has become my equivalent of skydiving or bungee jumping or walking a tightrope. Getting across without falling feels very, very good.

Is this an addiction? Is this a bad thing? I don't know. But that day was the first time that it hit me with such utter obviousness.

Jeff