I’m reflecting on the differences between meaning and purpose. We all create meaning through the stories that we tell ourselves. I’m doing this right now. The word “meaning” has roots in an older word related to mind. So the meaning of life only exists in our minds.

Purpose isn’t something that we think. It’s something that we feel into.

My purpose can’t be captured in a single story—it’s whatever brings me most alive. I’m “on purpose” when I’m feeling fulfilled. I express my purpose through how I am being, and how this shapes my actions and relationships.

There are many stories that I could tell about myself and what I do. A decade ago I was very clear about the meaning of my life. I was committed to making a positive difference in the world, particularly in the environmental area. I still have this commitment (although my focus of concern has gone beyond the environmental field). But these days I don’t have a grand narrative that guides my life or work.

Today I’m more attentive to how my presence shapes the world, and how I can serve this world well, rather than trying to be the person that I tell myself I am.

In a nutshell: I follow my heart/feelings much more closely. I hope to make a positive impact through clarity, compassion, freedom of thought and well-intentioned actions. Some days that might mean working on a social project. Sometimes it could simply involve listening attentively to a friend. And it always involves giving close attention to myself so that I can stay focused and full of energy.

The work that I do has shifted too. I used to strive to do “meaningful work”. This gave me a sense of purpose, but it didn’t reach the core of who I am. Pursuing something meaningful helped me to feel better about myself because I believed that I was doing something worthy. I had plenty of good intentions behind this. But I often strayed into doing work that I just thought was important. Now I understand that “purposeful work” is simply work that feels good doing, because it’s fulfilling and fit for who I am.

So, life has less meaning for me now… but it will still be rich with meaning.

As a story-crafter, I love to create meaning through words. I can create meaning out of anything. Words and stories are essential for communication. Stories can help us to connect and understand ourselves better. But they can only represent what we feel and know.

I was reminded of this last week when I was co-facilitating a workshop in Sydney for Off the Mat, Into the World. In a conversation about purpose, somebody commented that: “We know we’re living on purpose when we stop asking the question ‘am I leading a purposeful life?’.” In other words, we’re leading from the heart and making peace with the stories in our minds.

I was also reminded of these wise words from Julia Butterfly Hill during the workshop:

Imagine you and your life as a compass. In a production driven society, we have been tricked into believing that we are the arrow—always looking around for our magnetic true north. We have chatter in our minds and our lives that goes something like, “Maybe that’s the right job,” or “Maybe that’s the right person,” or “Maybe that’s the right education,” and the list goes on of all the ways we constantly look outside of ourselves for fulfilment, meaning, and purpose. Just like the arrow seeking to find “true north.” And we get really excited when we feel we have found something that feels as close to “right” as we know how to find.

Now imagine living your life “ON PURPOSE,” realising that your true power does not come from outside sources, but rather from who you are BEING and what you are choosing…”

When we get clear on our purpose, we get in touch with the magnetic true north that has always been inside of us, waiting for us to discover it. We realize that our happiness, power, and dreams do not rely on outside forces to manifest (as we constantly search for them trying to align with them), but rather are hiding inside the miracle that we are—waiting for us to call them forth.”

Now I understand much more deeply how this feels, and not just what it means.

Image credit—adapted from Hashmil on Flickr

Related posts:

1. Being lively (aka a purpose in life)
2. Sticking to life
3. The simple art of sitting in a tree

A few weeks ago I was sitting on a Gisborne beach. It was a calm summer evening. The sea breeze had ceased exhaling. Sunlight skimmed the surf. My toes explored the lingering warmth in the sand. I had just farewelled some friends so I was feeling slightly lonely.

Then a shaggy little fellow with flapping jowls and mischief in his eyes decided to break the peace.

Dogs and I often befriend one another. This one was a bit too salty for my liking though. His coat was rough and frothy from playing in the surf. He carried an air of decomposing seaweed. He was very much one with the beach.

Shaggy smiled (some might say panted) and sat before me. Eye to eye, he seemed to check me out. Then Shaggy turned to face the waves. We sat together for a while. It really was very shanti. Then something else got Shaggy’s attention. He sprung up and bounded down the beach.

The thing in Shaggy’s attention was a stick. Or more accurately—it was the idea of a stick.

He roamed the beach for a while, looking for his ideal piece of wood. Occasionally he’d pick one up between his teeth and give it an exploratory chew. Eventually he found a stick that met his dogged standards.

Shaggy brought me his Ideal Stick. He placed it at my feet. He knew what he wanted. And he knew that I knew what he wanted me to do. And so I lingered. I watched the stick patiently, playing a game of my own. I was unsure if I really wanted to go down this road with an old salty sea dog.

Then Shaggy barked. He really barked. It was part howl, part growl, and full force. He didn’t need to make his intentions any clearer.

We were playing. And I better hurry up and realise it.

So I picked up the stick and threw it. Shaggy whirled around. He ran off to retrieve it, trotting with delight. He collected his stick in his big mouth… and then ran around in circles. He looked totally mad. He dragged the stick around the sand. He buried it. He showed off how good he was at finding it again. Then he returned and placed the stick by my feet.

I paused. We faced off once again. If dogs could roll their eyes, Shaggy would have done it. Then he barked his awful bark and I picked up the damn stick and threw it. He chased it. Repeat cycle many times.

I soon gave in to Shaggy. His joy was infectious.

Looking at all the froth around his mouth, I hoped that he wasn’t infectious with anything else (I was glad that dogs don’t have rabies in New Zealand).

Shaggy and I played together for half an hour. His owner was nowhere in site. I probably looked a little mad myself as I tried to trick him with different sticks and buried his Ideal piece of wood.

Eventually we went our separate ways. He had left me with an air of joy (and a little bit of seaweed). This set the tone for the rest of my evening… and my week…and I’m still feeling joyful a month later. I’m not suggesting that Shaggy did this. But the Joy Factor is definitely riding high right now.

This encounter also reminds me of a time when I was not so joyful.

When I experienced depression many years ago, dogs were often in my dreams. Two days before I had a crash, a dog would appear in a dream. The dog would bite me. I’ve never had a bad experience with dogs in waking-life, so this really freaked me out. But I began to recognise the pattern. The ‘black dog’ of depression was making me take note.

At some point I realised that the dog attacking me in my dream was really just part of myself.

I was hurting myself. I needed to take better care of myself. And after I realised this—and made changes in my life—I had another dream about a dog. It ran towards me. I felt a rush of terror, fearing the old cycle. Then the dog stopped and licked my hand. I relaxed. I woke up, relieved. And I knew that something had totally shifted.

Playing fetch with Shaggy reminded me of how much I enjoy life now.

And I’m curious that the word “fetch” comes from the old English word “fetian”, which means to touch or grasp. Shaggy wasn’t the only one who’s good at fetching. I’ve grasped how good life can feel when we really open ourselves to different ways of being.

Related posts:

1. Being lively (aka a purpose in life)
2. Reviving the Kiwi Bloke
3. Releasing the grip of anger

This was one flash of anger on a quiet street in Wellington. There’s much more brewing beneath the surface in New Zealand.

Most of this anger seems to be held by men, or at least inflicted by men.

A lot of it comes out behind closed doors. One in three women in our country are subjected to physical or psychological abuse by men at some point. And plenty of men experience the anger held by other men too.

Here are some of my experiences:

I remember being attacked by a gang of adolescent boys when I was playing with a friend at my primary school during the weekend.

I remember lots of anger and aggression among guys at my high school, particularly a friend who lost his father in an accident.

I remember a friend pinning me to the ground at a party and yelling into my face with rage because he misheard something I said (which triggered the anger he was holding on to).

I remember a cousin holding my head under water until I almost blacked out—and the terror I felt because I couldn’t breathe.

And in my travels I’ve been pinned against a fence by two men with a knife who tried to mug me.

These experiences pale in comparison to what many people experience, but they’re encounters with anger that I found very difficult to respond to.

I’ve often found it difficult to relate to angry guys.

That’s not because I don’t feel anger. Sometimes I feel very fired up (particularly when I see an injustice). But I don’t take these feelings out on others. The only time I’ve ever hit anyone (apart from sharing dead arms at high school) was when I was five. One of my cousins (who is now one of the gentlest people I know) used to hit me all the time. I never hit back… until one day I gave him one mighty thump out of frustration. Hi cried. That was the end of the punches.

As a youngster I would sometimes play fight with other boys, mirroring the wrestlers we saw on TV. If I did something that started to hurt the other person I would know right away and back off. But I remember feeling terrified when I played with some boys because they didn’t seem to recognise when they were really hurting me (or maybe they did and they kept doing harm anyway).

Where does all this anger come from?

I don’t know why that man in the kebab shop felt so much anger. I could see how much it was harming him though. It was strangling him. It had burned a hole in his life. And because he didn’t know how to deal with this anger he was taking it out on other people.

Do men and women process trauma and difficult life experiences differently? I’ve been talking with a friend about how men often react to trauma with feelings of anger, and women often feel sorrow. This is a generalisation (as every individual is unique and we all experience anger and sorrow to different degrees) but I’ve noticed this tendency in myself and many people around me.

Although I don’t take anger out on other people, I’ve still had to learn how to deal with the fiery energy that I feel when something threatens this world that I love. I used to internalise this fire (e.g. in the form of frustration) because I didn’t know how to respond well without causing harm. One of my big lessons is how to redirect this fire to let it fuel my actions peacefully.

How can we release all this anger? 

Feeling anger, at least in its raw form of fiery energy, can be a powerful and valid emotional response to a threatening situation. But becoming angry (i.e. embodying this anger rather than transforming it) and taking it out on other people is always harmful.

I don’t know how we can release or transform all this anger in our society. Many approaches are needed.

Events like White Ribbon Day are helping to shift a culture of violence by making it clear that aggressive actions are always unacceptable. We also need to create a kinder and fairer society to remove the conditions that provoke anger. We need to foster more empathy. And we need to equip more people, particularly boys and men, with the capabilities to process strong emotions in a healthy way.

The roots of anger, like any emotion, also need to be physically expressed in some way to be released. Otherwise they will stay stuck in our bodies. Learning to talk about things can open people up, but the energy beneath the anger needs to come out safely. When anger starts to arise, physical pursuits like running, biking, swimming and going to the gym can all be effective for discharging energy. The practice that I find most powerful for transforming it is yoga. Team sports may also play a more important emotional role in society than I’ve usually realised (although it’s a fine line between letting something out and aggravating it further).

Right now I feel very grateful for all my emotionally intelligent friends who aren’t an angry presence in this world. I hope that anyone who has been subjected to violence can heal and recover from pain. And I feel compassion towards people who are in the grip of anger, like the man I met in that kebab shop. I hope he finds a way to be free from this anger and that we’ll all be free from the harm that it’s inflicting.

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Image credit:
Photo from Flickr.

Related posts:

1. The art of peaceful anger
2. Reviving men for social & environmental change
3. Reviving the Kiwi Bloke

And… I’ve been bird watching.

Last week I went to a great event on Emergence. To get a taste of what emergence means, we watched this video that’s gone viral on social media recently of swallows swarming:

Watching these birds swirl in seemingly chaotic patterns, we discussed how each bird might be influencing the behaviour of the flock as a whole. Imagining myself as a bird, this is what I saw:

• birds on the edges of the flock seem to have the most influence on where the flock is heading
• that’s because birds on the edges have more space to be attentive to the landscape—they can look for food to more towards / predators and obstacles to move away from
• birds in the middle of the flock are focusing most of their attention on the other birds around them—otherwise they will bump into one another
• the flock gets pulled in various directions by birds on the edges, but the flock moves as a whole in dramatic patterns as each bird co-ordinates its movement with the birds around it
• no single bird is ever influencing this pattern on its own, as the edges and centres are constantly shifting—the birds keep shifting roles.

This led me to reflect on how changes emerge in human social systems.

People who have space for attention see things differently to most people and play a pivotal role in change.

At a social level, movements are usually instigated by people on the edges of society who can see opportunities to shift in a fresh direction. This year we’ve also seen many groups harnessing the power of social media to co-ordinate their movements (imagine lots of birds on the edges now moving in a similar direction).

Innovation also emerges on the edges of established ways of thinking and doing. Einstein alluded to this when he said “imagination is more important than knowledge.” Knowledge is what is already known. Imagination involves the creative use of our senses to grasp new realities that can emerge through us.

At a personal level, I’ve noticed that significant changes often happen in my life when I have lots of space for free thinking/noticing. Many creative people share this experience (e.g. this talk by designer Stefan Sagmeister is a great example: every 7 years he takes 1 year off to refresh his creative outlook and creates new work for the next 6 years).

When my mind is swirling around (with thoughts spinning like birds in the middle of a swarm) I don’t have much capacity to see things differently. When my mind is clear (i.e. there’s lots of space around the thoughts) I’m very receptive to new experiences and opportunities. I notice patterns of thinking/behaviour and how to initiate changes.

When I’m being attentive it contributes to changes beyond myself.

When I have the peace of mind to notice things, I often share what I see. Sometimes I draw people’s attention to possibilities and different ways of seeing things. Sometimes I offer questions or observations. Sometimes I just act differently because I’ve seen a pattern that was limiting potential.

Now I’ve come to see that when something enters my attention, it can lead more than just me in a different direction. And I’m very grateful when people share their attention with me.

This is another reason why I try not to be busy (as my friend Tink wrote). I’m very active and my life is often full, but I have daily practices to free my mind from swirling in busy directions. Sometimes I still find myself in the middle of the flock, but slowing down can be a great way to shift direction and accelerate change.

As I become more aware of what my mind is doing, I’m also becoming more effective at intentionally shaping my attention. I’m more selective about what I give energy to. And I’m realising how precious every moment really is. This feels very liberating and delicious. I don’t want to waste a single second in this flight of life.

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Image credit:
Adapted from cactusbeetroot

Related posts:

1. Stillness to make a difference

Imagine a work space where you can really be yourself: a place to slip your shoes off at the door as you enter a bright, warm and inviting room. You’re inspired by the people around you. There’s a hearty mix of laughter and silence. People are humming with creative ideas. Even the plants are happy in the fresh air and sunlight. If you need to clear your mind, you’re welcome to meditate or put your feet up the wall. Need a siesta after lunch? Go ahead. If it helps you to work Full Powa for the rest of the day just do what you need to.

This co-working hub is a place for freelance workers (and people from really progressive organisations) to work in a creative, lively setting. It’s a great example of sharing and collaboration. The Powa Centre is used for yoga classes and well-being workshops during the early morning and evening. Turning the space into a co-working space during the day brings more resources to the centre and makes it more affordable for people to use.

I also love to be here. This is where I work several days per week.

You can find about more about the Powa Co-Working Hub here.

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Last evening I wandered up my local hill in the still golden light of a windless night. Evenings like this need to be savoured in the capital of breezes. I have a favourite spot to sit by an abandoned gun emplacement from a previous era. Wild plants patiently burrow through the concrete. There’s a grassy patch to sit in the retreating sunbeams. I enjoy being immersed in the landscape here. In the distance, the Kaikoura mountains peek over the water, framed by Wellington’s hills rippling into the sea.

I didn’t arrive at my usual spot last night. Another couple had already settled there and I didn’t want to disturb them. Standing nearby, slightly disappointed that my cherished spot was taken, I wondered where to wander. Then I noticed a nobbly pine tree bathed in light on the other side of the hill. I liked the look of its gangly limbs. Curious, I headed in that direction. 

En route I met an old man with a dog who’d been chasing rabbits (the dog, that is). He sat there with great contentment (the man and the dog). We swapped some words. The man said with a twinkle that “life’s really amazing sometimes.” I smiled and said “it sure is.” Then I continued on my way.

There wasn’t a clear path to the tree so I started to make one. I bush-bashed through thorny gorse, enjoying the simple delight of darting and weaving through weeds. Then I stumbled on a trodden path. Following its curves around the hill, I soon met a small handmade sign with “Pine Tree” and an arrow painted on it. A few minutes later I reached the tree.

I smiled. This pine had received some special attention. There was a tree house hiding in his limbs. Some of his relatives had been fashioned into planks and nailed into place. Without further ado I pulled myself up and manoeuvred through a series of small platforms.

As I perched near the top of the tree, looking at the sea through the flickering light, I felt incredibly grateful. Life’s been really challenging recently. This magical moment was a welcome gift.

Making metaphors

A story came to me as I sat in this tree. This short walk represented a lot about life for me over the last few months. I’m in a liminal space (i.e. a period of transition). All my paid work has dried up. My savings are draining. I’ve tried heading in familiar directions. I’m not meeting with success. I’ve been standing on a threshold—letting my gaze wander over the horizon for more places to explore.

I’m trying to stay as open as possible during this challenging phase. I’m looking at lots of options. I’m keeping my attention on where I really want to go. I’m not getting distracted or feeling limited by where I’ve been before.

In the landscapes of my mind I’m already moving in a different direction. There’s an image growing like that tree. I don’t know how to get there, or even if I can. I’m just making a path one step at a time.

It feels like I’m bush-bashing right now. I’m travelling through some rough spots, going up and down. I’m following my curiosity and making lots of changes.

I’m starting to find some openings too. I’d really love to find a little sign with an arrow on it soon. I wish that life had more clear pointers like this (or at least that I could see them). In the meantime I’m staying active and attentive. I’m accepting the uncertainty—knowing that not-knowing is needed to learn something new. And I’m remembering that life’s really amazing. Sometimes it’s just not what we thought it would be.

Related posts:

1. Befriending our genius
2. Being lively (aka a purpose in life)
3. Relearning to replace the pieces

I’m often asked by friends and workmates why I use Twitter and how to use it for good effect. I usually refer them to other resources. But we all use technologies in different ways. So here’s how I use this tool (with lots of tips for newbies).

Why twitter?

I use Twitter to grow well-being. It’s beneficial if it improves my life and the world that I’m part of. I don’t let it become another annoying electronic distraction. I’m not a Twitter Power User. I keep it simple. I use it when I want to. I use it for learning and growing connections with people.

I started using Twitter a few weeks before the Iranian uprising in 2009. It quickly showed its great potential power for good, enabling people to share their stories with one another and the world—unmediated and uncensored by oppressive authorities.

Since then I’ve been inspired, informed and introduced to many incredible people and groups via Twitter. It lets me hear the voices of people who speak with great honesty, integrity, courage and compassion. I’ve used it to organise events and grow consumer/citizen campaigns. It led me to an amazing gathering in Melbourne. It’s my first port of call for keeping track of major changes in the world, well before mainstream media gets involved. You can find more good Twitter stories here.

How I use Twitter

What I give and get through Twitter each day depends on what I’m giving my attention to and what I’m noticing.

• I have a Hit List of people I follow regularly. When I access Twitter I just see their tweets. These people are precious to me because they share great content, tweet sparingly and I’ve grown to know them. I follow about 70 people on this list (I explain lists below).
• I treat my tweets as gifts that can shape attention. I don’t want to waste people’s energy/time (or my own). If I’m moved/inspired/amazed by something I tweet about it for more people to see. If there’s a cause I support I will tweet about it to give it more attention. This is mindful tweeting.
• Most days I use Twitter a few times. I dip my toes in the social media stream for 5-10 minutes to see what’s happening. I scan tweets (just like scanning media headlines) and click on links that interest me. Sometimes I see something amazing that gets more of my attention.
• Some days I use Twitter a lot. If something big is emerging this is where I often learn about it first.
• Some weeks I don’t tweet at all. Twitter is great, but I don’t let it invade my life. I often prefer to just sit in the sun, appreciate the world, contemplate the universe or laugh with friends face to face—and I don’t need to share that via Twitter.

Twitter Basics

If you’re new to Twitter, this is what I needed to know when I first started:

Starting up

• Create a short Twitter name when you sign up—because every tweet is limited to 140 characters. Long names eat up letters if people mention your name in a tweet.
• Describe your interests/passions on your profile.
• Download a good Twitter Client—which is the interface you use to read/filter/send tweets. I use Echofon and Tweetdeck on my Mac.
• Have a play—Tweet something to give people a flavour of what you’re interested in. Just remember that everything you tweet becomes public. It will enter the stream of anyone who follows you.

Growing your community 

• Find people to connect with—follow people you know on Twitter and check out who they are following (e.g. this is who I follow). If someone gets your attention, follow them (and treat it like a date… you can always end the relationship later on!).
• Don’t worry about how many people follow you—this isn’t a popularity contest, so don’t listen to your ego. Use Twitter to find what you are inspired by and interested in. Share and share alike. You’ll find the right people to connect with as you go.
• Be selective—if someone starts following you, check what they’re tweeting about. I only follow people if I am genuinely interested in what they are talking about.
• Send tweets to people—if you are impressed by what they are doing and want them to know this. Twitter is an incredibly easy way to make an introduction.
• Grow connections by retweeting and responding to people. If you like what someone says, tweet about it (and mention their Twitter name). You can also “RT” (retweet”) their words to share with others. You can find tips on retweeting here.
• The more you see who’s tweeting what, the more amazing people you’ll meet along the way.

Panning for gold

• Create lists for people you follow—this will make it much easier to filter out who/what you’re looking for. Lists filter conversations. E.g. here are some of my lists, including social innovators, young leaders, conscious change-makers and people who tweet about purposeful work. My Hit-List includes people I follow most (but I haven’t shared that list publicly). Here’s one way to create lists.
• Use Hashtags—to help you find and share what you’re looking for. These are crucial. Here’s an intro to using hashtags.

Tweetiquette

I follow someone if they:

• tweet interesting/inspiring/wise/creative/quirky/worldy things and
• tweet selectively.

This is no different from an ordinary conversation. If someone keeps being a loud mouth (filling my Twitter stream to get attention or with their one-on-one conversations) I stop following them or filter them out.

And remember: Tweet Unto Others as you would have them Tweet Unto You.

To make it more personal:

• if someone retweets one of my reflections I thank them (sometimes in groups)
• if someone starts following me who I find very interesting I’ll send them a personal tweet (e.g. related to something on their website or what they’ve tweeted about).

If I share something that I found through someone else, I also make sure I acknowledge those people in a RT (ReTweet: see above).

Growing your voice

Many people and organisations use Twitter to grow their cause/initiative. If you want to grow your voice via Twitter, you’ll need to:

• grow authentic relationships—by interacting with people in conversations. Who follows you, and how they feel about you, is more important than how many people follow you. If some people with large/influential networks get interested in you they will amplify your voice.
• attract attention—by sharing things that people feel moved to read, watch, share or comment on. Keep it interesting with a mix of gravity and lightness.

If you really want to grow your voice, be authentic with who you are and what you have to say. People will warm to this. And if you want to use Twitter for good effect, consider why you’re trying to attract attention and how you can shape this. As a wise man once observed: “Better than a thousand hollow words is one word that brings peace.”

Work out the rest as you go

The best way to learn how to use social media tools is by playing with them. So make your own way. Make sure Twitter works well for you. And let me know if you’ve got any more questions or tips to share.

Related posts:

1. Redirecting consumerism: 5 tips for my former self
2. Reviving men for social & environmental change

I’ve noticed this quote popping up in many networks recently: “Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” It’s attributed to Einstein. There’s a good chance that he never really said this though. Out of curiosity I did some digging on the web to find out when/where he said these words. I couldn’t find a single reference. Some people even suggest that this quote comes from a Christian self-help book (although I can’t find any proof of that either).

Have these words just been attributed to Einstein to give them greater power? This might be another story like the fake Martin Luther King quote that rapidly spread though social networks after Bin Laden’s execution.

Does it really matter who gave us the analogy of the fish though? This quote has power in itself. Many people, including me, love what is being expressed. That’s why it’s being shared so widely.

Many of us have experienced being a fish out of water. This is the same conversation as being in our element and embodying our purpose. All of us are seeking ways to express our full potential. We need a supportive environment to let that happen. We also need to make friends with our own inner genius.

Letting the genius out of the bottle 

The word genius originally referred to our “guiding spirit.” As George Lynn and Joanne Barrie Lynn explain:

“The modern meaning of the term “genius,” that it defines a person who scores in the upper 1 percent of the population on certain tests of intelligence, has not been the meaning ascribed to the word for the past two millennia. The Greek philosopher Plato said that a person’s genius is the spirit that guides expression of what he called the “seed self” or “daemon”—the “guiding force” of the child. Plato said that we come into life like an acorn, a tiny complete package of everything we have the potential to become. From this seed, our spirits may grow huge, full, and beautiful, as does an oak tree.” 

This understanding is also picked up in Elizabeth Gilbert’s beautiful talk on creativity. Instead of rare individuals “being” a genius, all of us “have” a genius. We can all access our genius if we are open and attentive.

Genius is also linked with the word “genie”. This seems beautifully connected with the stories of Aladdin and a genie in bottle. In these stories a genie is summoned by polishing a vessel. The polishing removes the layers of dust that prevent light from entering. When the dust is cleared, the genie escapes from its confinement and reveals itself like a breath of fresh air. It then bestows great benefits. This suggests that our genie/genius will reveal itself simply by brightening our “vessel”. Our genius can guide us to freedom, even when we feel trapped in a cave. We just need to remove the dust of our self-limiting beliefs and polish our powers of perception.

Reconnecting with our genius

“The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of childhood into adulthood.” ~ Thomas Huxley 

“Genius is nothing more than childhood recovered by will—a childhood now equipped for self-expression with the capacities of an adult.” ~ Baudelaire

Most of us are more in touch with our creative genius as children than when we are adults. According to one study, 98% of children are geniuses in divergent thinking (which is what we do when we are not forced to conform) compared to 2% of adults.

No wonder we tend to think that there are so few geniuses in our society. Our genius often becomes trapped through our schooling and workplaces. It takes great determination to let the genie out again.

There are some individuals who seem to have a particularly powerful genius. Einstein was definitely one of them. But his genius also revealed itself because he didn’t feel limited by other people’s limiting beliefs and expectations. He performed poorly at school—he probably would have been diagnosed with a learning disorder by many educational authorities today—but that didn’t hold him back. He followed his curiosity, imagination and interests. He experienced his genius through his intuition.

It’s a mystery to me who really crafted the quote about the fish up a tree. Maybe these words did flow from Einstein while he was swimming in his imagination. It’s a far greater mystery where our creative genius really comes through. All I know is that we are all born with enormous potential. Few of us ever recognise it. And our genius is always whispering to us. If we learn to listen, in the spaces of great silence and appreciation, our genius will lead us to understand who we are—and what we can become.

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I’m putting men in the spotlight for a couple of reasons. Firstly, men are often held responsible for most of the harm being done in the world (e.g. Naomi Klein links the recklessness of men with oil spills and climate change). Secondly, there’s a risk that blaming men for these harms is just going to make matters worse.

Are men doing more harm than women in this world? Yes. Just look at the gender of most violent offenders, power-hungry politicians and business executives (although there are plenty of good leaders too), militants and rapists. But there’s nothing in men’s nature that makes this inevitable.

Many men are also harming ourselves. Suicide is the leading cause of death among young Australians and 75% of these people are men. In New Zealand 3 times more men die from suicide than women. There are similar statistics in many countries (e.g. 70% of people who commit suicide in Japan are male).

This is a huge amount of suffering. 

There are many factors that lead to violence and self-harm. One important factor is the difficulty that many men have in experiencing/expressing our feelings and emotions. I’ve written about this before. Many of us have become disconnected from our feelings.

We’ve hardened up when we’ve been hurt, because our culture teaches us that’s what men do. We’re also encouraged to live in our heads more than our hearts. Men are celebrated for being rational more than emotional. We need to make better use of all our capabilities.

If we’re not feeling well-connected with ourselves, we’ll find it incredibly difficult to connect with other people and the world that we’re part of.

Many of us have become detached from our innate capabilities for empathy—the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

The awful damage that we’re doing to our world right now is a stark sign of how disconnected we’ve become (although we’re never really disconnected).

No-one in their right mind would want to destroy the foundations of life on this planet. But that’s what we are doing. If all of us—men and women—could feel the full depths of the destruction that we’re part of, and the enormous poverty and suffering that exists in our world, we wouldn’t tolerate so much harm. If all of us could feel the full depths of our incredible connectedness and humanity, we’d do everything in our power to help life grow.

Achieving real progress for social and environmental change therefore requires reviving the hearts (i.e. feeling abilities) of men.

This is an enormous challenge. Men’s hearts have hardened up through centuries of violence, pain, warfare and abusing our power. Many women have also hardened up by holding on to anger, bitterness and resentment towards men. Both men and women have some serious work to do for heart to heart resuscitation.

Achieving real change won’t happen if we blame men for all the big problems in the world. We do need to hold people responsible when any of us do harm. But meaningful change needs to come through compassion—we need to genuinely want the best for all people, while realising that our personal well-being is totally tied up with the well-being of everyone.

If we really want to resolve social and environmental harms, we need to mend the root causes of these symptoms in our hearts.

Note: This post emerged out of Gathering 11. The threads of diverse discussions came together serendipitously and helped me to see the world a little differently.   

Related posts:

1. Reviving the Kiwi Bloke
2. Releasing the grip of anger
3. Waging peace on climate change

I’m in my element. 

I’ve been feeling this more and more recently. It feels extraordinary, but it need not be out of the ordinary. Being in our element is core to who we are.

This is a reflection on the challenges and joys of finding/expressing our gifts in the world.

It’s elementary

Ken Robinson describes our element as “the place where the things we love to do and things we are good at come together.” 

We’re in our element when we’re doing something that feels natural to us. The word “element” can be traced to Greek and Latin words that mean the primary / principle components. All of us are born with unique gifts and talents. Being in our element involves using and refining these talents to great effect.

When I see people in their element they have a special look about them. They show an ease that comes from inner-confidence. Their eyes sparkle. Their attention is fully absorbed in what they’re doing.

It’s taken me a long time to feel strongly in my element. I’ve developed many skills and abilities during my life, but it’s been a huge challenge to find and refine talents that are core to my well-being. I’m still learning.

An area where I really feel at home in myself right now is teaching/sharing yoga. This is very new for me. I only started teaching a few months ago (but I’ve been giving this lots of attention, which is why I haven’t been writing). I’m even hesitant to describe myself as teacher. I’m simply sharing what I learn through practice while being fully attentive with people.

This is what it feels like when I’m in the flow of teaching:

I’m immersed in the experience
I’m receptive and attentive
My mind is totally still and alert
I’m calm and focused
I’m rapidly responsive without feeling rushed
I’m doing but not doing
I use all my senses
I’m feeling energised and full of life.

I have much, much more to learn to be a good teacher—and teaching yoga is only one part of what I love to do. But so much about this already feels right.

Weathering the elements

All of us are born with enormous potential, but few of us fully develop the talents that deeply enrich life.

It shouldn’t be difficult for any of us to find our element—but often we don’t experience ideal opportunities to do so.

Ideally our education draws out our gifts from a young age. But we’re often just taught what other people think we should learn. We’re lucky if we’re encouraged to follow our curiosity and enthusiasm to do the things that we love.

Ideally our work develops our talents and strengths. We work hard because it expands our life. But too many of us do work that sucks the life out of us. Too many organisations try to control people rather than developing our full human and organisational potential.

Our society would thrive if everyone reached their potential. But we’re often limited by other people’s judgements and by our own internal critics. And too many people are stunted by poverty.

Few (if any) of us grow up in completely ideal circumstances. We often have more opportunities than we realise though. If we have some financial security (or we’re willing to simplify our lives to achieve this) we can always invest in ourselves. Our gifts are seldom eroded by circumstance. They’re just lurking below the surface, waiting to be expressed.

(Re)discovering our elements 

So may we, in this life
trust
to those elements
we have yet to see
or imagine,
and look for the true
shape of our own self,
by forming it well
to the great
intangibles about us.

~ David Whyte (Excerpt from “Working Together”)

What do we do if we find ourselves being constantly exhausted by life/work, or if we have no idea what our element really is?

The best antidote I know for this is to learn by doing and by not doing. We need to experiment. We also need to create some space away from our usual patterns of doing (e.g. by making time for ourself regularly, or by taking a break from work) to understand ourself well and to grow a larger perspective. This learning never ends.

Coming into our element involves:

• learning what our innate talents/abilities are
• developing the abilities that give us most joy
• finding/creating a setting to express and share our talents.

We also need to stay open to possibilities and surprises.

Ten years ago I would have laughed if someone suggested that I would teach yoga. I didn’t even practice yoga then. I only stumbled into yoga seven years ago when I was trying to recover from burnout (a time when I was clearly out of my element). So how did this happen?

The funny thing is that I’ve hardly ever felt in my element practicing yoga. It’s always been enormously challenging. But it’s always captivated my attention too. I could clearly see the benefits from practice. I trusted where it’s been taking me. I also found huge determination to keep practicing. Over time this determination has evolved into an ever-growing love for the practice. It now feels much more natural and enjoyable.

I don’t think that I was born to be a yoga teacher. But teaching yoga seems to be well-aligned with who I am. Practicing yoga—learning by doing and being—is also helping me to uncover and refine abilities that are well-suited to this role. It’s my growing experience of yoga, mixed with the whole-hearted attentiveness that I give to people, that are leading me to feel in my element.

Being in our element involves an active imagination too. I imagined teaching yoga many years before I started apprenticing to be a teacher. It kept popping up in my imagination even though it was far removed from who I was. Eventually the time arrived when it felt right to take a leap into my imagination: turning image into action.

(Re)discovering our elements will always be a unique experience. Some of us may make radical changes in our life or work. Sometimes we just need to find/create a more supportive setting for the abilities that we’re developing. We can also explore different elements of ourself at different times in life. I have no doubts that being in our element will always come naturally to us—if we’re willing to play with possibilities and to develop a supportive context for change to happen.

Enjoying the elements 

We’re all composed of many elements, so it’s really a mystery what my life could become.

I’m beginning to be in my element teaching yoga, but I really enjoy many other aspects of my life and work too. I happily imagine teaching yoga part-time (while my own practice develops) and being involved in many more social and environmental projects. Over the last few years I’ve invested a lot of energy in finding the work that I love to do and building connections with people that I want to work with. This has been hard work but the investments are starting to reap rewards.

Being in our element isn’t just about work. There may be things that we love to do that aren’t connected with employment. The important thing is to explore interests and activities that enhance our energy rather than depleting us. The joy that we get in return can infuse and enhance the rest of our lives/work.

Being in the elements (i.e. wild natural settings) can also be very energising. I often feel restored when I’m by the sea or amongst the trees. But we don’t need to go outside to tap into the raw natural beauty of this world. It’s always inside us. We’re in our element when we’re living in sync with our own incredible inner nature.

Related posts:

1. Reconnecting for regeneration
2. Being lively (aka a purpose in life)
3. Stillness to make a difference