Discovery

A year ago, I enrolled in an art class.   With the exception of participating in Heidi Darr-Hope’s (http://www.darr-hope.com/Home.htm) creative retreat in Mallorca, Spain, in 2009, I have not had a paint brush in my hand since 8^th grade, (St. Mary’s School, Richmond, Indiana).  And, I still haven’t held a paintbrush yet, but I have been doing a lot with pencils.  I am loving the class – learning to draw and shade, learning to see the world differently, and watching 2 dimensional pieces of paper come alive into 3 dimensions.  Yee-Haw!

One of my favorite new items (which just could appear in Christmas stockings) is erasers.  An eraser came standard issue in the art class on the 1^st day (I now have 3, well, okay, 6).  It’s daunting to look at a blank sheet of paper, put a pencil on it, begin to make a mark, and wonder if it will be okay.  And even though it was just the first day, I couldn’t really sit and stare at the paper for a whole 3 hours – claiming that I was waiting for inspiration.  The eraser got me going.

More importantly, the eraser kept me going and increased my confidence and momentum.  I soon learned that there was no pencil mark too great, that I couldn’t fix with an eraser.  It took me awhile to get the hang of it though – I had been well-schooled (in school and in life) that mistakes were bad and clean, clear, concise work products were good.  Now, I jump in – pencil in hand, art exercise in view – and start.  If I do something that doesn’t turn out like I thought or if I totally missed the idea of the exercise, I just say “Oops” and get out the eraser.

Imagine how cool it would be to have erasers for other parts of our lives.   They would not necessarily work in all situations – but think about it.  We all are human, we learn by doing, we live hectic lives and multi-tasking moments are plentiful.  There are the times when we say or do something that is not what we meant; when things don’t turn out like we thought; or when stuff just happens.  Rather creating a big commotion – what if we just say “Oops” and pull out the eraser.  How much fun would that be!!  Even before we began a conversation, we would be more relaxed about it – knowing that all would be fine with our erasers.  We might still do things that are bigger than an eraser could fix, but the small stuff would flow more easily – and with smiles.

Erasers have helped me with other things besides learning to draw.  Take this blog, for example.  I don’t have an eraser, but I do have a “delete” key – it’s much easier to use.   Now, when I’m working on projects, coaching or teaching, I always ask everyone if they have their erasers handy.  I’m just saying – erasers and smiles are wonderful.

Thanks for reading and playing!

Kathleen

Latest Art Class Project

Journal Entry, July, 2009

“Welcome to an ever-expanding world”, I declared to myself this past week, as I got tickled with technology, new and old, same and different,  and how it moves and participates in our lives.

For example, the first group of Sarah and Alex’s wedding pictures came from friends’ cameras and are posted on Facebook.  So, when I’m asked about wedding photos, I go to Facebook and am grateful that it’s easy and accessible.

Interestingly enough, and counter to some of the pervasive messages about social media, a number (larger than what I would have thought) of friends (my generation, young and Sarah’s generation, younger) said that they are not on Facebook.  Others remarked that they are infrequent visitors to Facebook, but they would make a point to check out the photos.

What tickled me most is that the technology is key to accessing the photos – and yet – everyone wanted to hear stories, ask questions, and share in the celebration.    In this instance, technology was the channel and stories were center stage.

The second example is Skype.  Until this week, I had not used Skype, nor was it even downloaded on my computer.  I didn’t have a reason to use it – my mobile phone gave me all the connections I needed.   To some of my friends, particularly those with international connections, I was really “not hip”.

What changed?   I needed to make an international call, not covered in my mobile phone plan.  My friend suggested Skype.   I downloaded it, found I had a reason to use my laptop’s camera, and the result was that my friend and I had a great and quirky time talking.  Amazing. I am tickled when technology, just-in-time, opens channels to connect with others (even when I’m on camera).

My last tickling thought for today emerged on my way home from art class last night (and hence the pictures above).  The background story is that a year ago, I enrolled in an art class.  I had not done art since grade school; and at work, as well as in my journals, I was always drawing pictures when I couldn’t find words or when words didn’t work.

My “geeky” friends told me that there was an “app for that” and pointed me to technology.  But, there was an allure, the Sirens, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siren) were calling me to the traditional route of paper, pencils, charcoal, paint, paper and canvas.

What a great decision.  First, I love being disconnected from the battery/plug.  I enjoy the tactical experiences beyond a keyboard and screen; and I get to trade my delete key for an eraser.  Second, I am thoroughly aware of the intimate relationship between what I see and its translation through my being, out through my fingers and into the mark of the pencil on paper.   Last, but not least, computers, are an important  channel – I can share my art meanderings through this blog; and computers are part of my classes – sitting next to the easels, ready to share their repositories of art and teachers.

Where does this leave us?   On one hand, it’s interesting to see how we bring possibilities into our lives – we do this every day – with and without technology.   There is more.  As I was writing, I saw something new:  our choices, born from our unique perspectives, are the accelerators of the expansion.  Said another way, options are just options  until we create new, expansive realities through our choices and actions.

Whew.  Then, I wondered:  “Is there a quote for this?”  I figured that Albert Einstein would likely have something to say about this.  He did – his words, my funny bone:  “Once you can accept the universe as matter expanding into nothing that is something, wearing stripes with plaid comes easy.”

Happy expanding.  Enjoy your stripes and plaid.  I am.

Thanks for reading!

Kathleen

Celebration.  Joy.  New Beginnings.  On November 12^th, my daughter Sarah married the love of her life, Alex.  They met on a blind date after being introduced through family.  Their 1^st date was a baseball game – Atlanta Braves played the Washington Nationals in Washington D.C.  The first date turned into a second date and they have been together ever since.

In addition to the fun, trials and tribulations of wedding planning, this time has been overflowing with joy and reflection.  It has reminded me of the preciousness of life’s simple moments.  We have shared stories of Sarah and Alex and found ourselves in awe of their adventures and joyful spirits.  We have marveled about their insights into themselves and each other, and their zest navigating life.   And, at the wedding, we celebrated the homecoming of family and friends through time and distance

What touched my heart most is when, in the midst of the activities, I felt the depth and breadth of the gifts that came to myself and Sarah, as mother and daughter.  From the very beginning of Sarah coming into the world and my life, I know what it is like to love and be loved.  Love, fully known, is with us.  Every day since, I know how it feels to see the world through Sarah’s eyes and to share the world with her through my eyes.  Through sharing, our worlds have greatly expanded.   And, when Sarah was young, I held her close to comfort and guide her; and as she grew, I grew to listen as she learned to comfort herself and find and trust her own way into the unknown.   Together, wisdom revealed herself to us.

On November 12^th, Sarah and I got dressed just like we have done many times before.   She zipped my dress.  I zipped hers.   We asked each other how we looked and if our hair was in place.  Then, it was time for me to be seated in the church.  As I walked out the door and turned to Sarah, I saw her beautiful, radiant, strong and ready for her next step.  When our eyes met, we smiled, and at the same time we whispered to each other across the room, “I love you”.

Moments later, in one fell-swoop, or I should say, in the pronouncement of two “I do’s”, life beautifully expanded.  My daughter is now a wife.  I have a son.  I have more family. And, I am still Mom.

Much love to you Sarah and Alex!

Mom

From the moment I knew I was pregnant, Sarah, my daughter has been a gift in my life.  Now, in less than two weeks, she is getting married and beginning a new chapter in her life and in mine.

It’s hard to put the feelings that are running through me into words – one moment, there aren’t enough of the right words and the next, there are so many words, writing is like trying to close an overstuffed suitcase.

It sounds like a clique, but it feels like yesterday when Sarah was born.  Every day since, when I look at her, I am reminded of life’s miracles – love, family, laughter and life itself.   Sarah loves to hear stories about the day she was born and her escapades in her early years.  And, yes, she cringes with photos we think are so cute.

We have volumes of stories we remember together – first days of school, favorite homework projects from building mountains to learning fractions, holidays with family and friends, softball, proms, lullabies, the journey of her favorite foods, and our 18 years of riding horses in the Rocky Mountains.

As her mom, it is wonderful being Sarah’s guide and teacher.  In fact, Sarah is an incredible teacher to me, as she has given me the opportunity to see life in new ways and to know the sacredness of simple moments.

When I look into her eyes, I see her light shining through – the same as the day she was born.  Her big heart and laugh melt my heart.  I can still pick out her “mom” in a crowd and I can tell when there is something bubbling under the surface within her.

Sarah taught me how to love the world.  As her mom, I experienced loving her beyond any love I had known.  I realized that as a mother, I was connected to every mother on the planet – past, present and future – in knowing the love that guides our children and lets them go into their own journey.

Through her adventures, Sarah taught me how to understand the world.  I remember what it took for Sarah to learn to walk – every movement she made from the day she was born went into her first step.  Knowing and doing are not moments in time – they are the accumulation of our inner abilities, our teachers, and practice, including falling down and getting up.

Through Sarah’s experience with fractions and then calculus, I saw the difference between teaching and learning.  Through the nights of homework, I realized that her teachers had “taught” hundreds, thousands of students.  This was different than Sarah “learning”.  Her learning was personal – the math came alive when Sarah translated what was being taught into her ability to do it and make it her own experience.  Only then, did she “learn” fractions and “master” calculus.

I am grateful for the quiet time to sit and write today; and I am excited for the upcoming flow of final planning, activities, and celebration.  Sarah and Alex’s wedding will embrace all of us in feeling the love and life that connects us to each other. It will be a homecoming for families and friends.  And, it will be an invitation to remember that life’s moments are an expanding journey with new, open doorways beckoning us forward into those moments.

For me, all of this and more will be true – I get to be with Sarah and Alex through a lifetime of being mom.

Thanks for reading!

Kathleen

After I wrote the “At Ease” blog, I realized there was more.

The evening when my computer was lost, then found opened the world of life’s Magic.  How could I ever have imagined that 3 students – angels – would appear at the perfect time, be my guides, and lead me to that which I was looking for.  Magic.

That one incident – woke me up.  It got me thinking about all of the magic in my life that I just walk by every day, without a notice, much less a thought.

For example, the morning after the magic appeared, I was making breakfast.  In the mystery of the previous evening, I looked at the piece of bread I was putting in the toaster.   I was amazed to feel the earth that grew the grains (soil, sun, water, winds), the individuals who worked with the earth as they sowed the grains, nurtured them, harvested them and delivered the grains to the market.  For that piece of bread, there were many other ingredients that started the same way –fully their own nature (eggs, salt, yeast) before they were combined with the grains – through the action and knowledge of the people and the equipment that transformed them into a loaf of bread, delivered to the grocery store, put on the shelf – waiting for me to put into my toaster.  This is magic.

Once I stopped to think about all of this, I realized that there was more.  First, this magic is always with me – every single moment – quietly ready to be seen – through everyone I see and hear, through my every breath I share with the world, through the birds singing, through Chipper’s (my cat) meow, through the food I eat and the computer under my fingertips.

Second, since the magic is always with me, I can access it just by remembering to connect to it.  I can look around me, wherever I am, and imagine the mystical threads that connect me to the earth and to people I will never meet.  I can also feel gratitude for all of the physical reminders in my life that are the fruits of someone’s curiosity, imagination, labor, and focus.

Simply, all of this reminded me that in every moment of my life, and in every breath, I am connected with life beyond what I see, what I think or what I have experienced in my immediate surroundings.

This magic makes me smile.  It is my prayer, today.

Happy Magic to you!

Kathleen

Last week, I learned “At Ease”.  For some, “At Ease” is an easy place to be. Historically, I have not been one of those individuals.

I was trained to be a good planner.  It was in my family’s DNA (dad was an engineer).  The high school curriculum included planning wherever possible and certainly within the time management and “How to Succeed” courses.  Planning was a skill taught throughout my years in business and technology.

At each stage, I learned to think about what might happen and to check out possibilities and contingencies.  I created the ability to run scenarios in my head and on excel spreadsheets.  I was adept at developing timetables.

As in most areas of our lives where we pay attention, I got better with experience.  With success, reinforcement appeared through kudos, hugs, promotions and raises.   With failures – when things really went beyond the worse of my wildest imagination – I added more capability to my toolkit.

I must confess that these skills were handy to have and transferred easily between family and work.  For example, when my daughter was small, my purse carried everything imaginable that she might need.  Now that she is grown, we laugh when she asks if I have something in my purse – like chapstick (she uses and I don’t), Cheerios (her favorite snack), or a mirror (to check mascara).  Throughout my business career, at the end of every month, my status report (whether as a systems analyst or a CEO) reported what was going on, what might be happening, and what we were planning on doing as a result.

As we know through experience, irrespective of our best planning and plans, life has its own flow.  What do we do, then?

First, be “At Ease”.  Take a breath.  Take the next step.  Then, see what happens.  Flow between “At Ease” and planning.

This revelation came last week – compliments of my laptop.

On this particular evening, I had been teaching a class at Georgia Tech and had taken my dandy new laptop.  When I returned home, I went to use my computer only to find that I didn’t have it.  My breath stopped as I realized I had been so busy talking to the students, I left it in the classroom.

In that instant, my analytical and planning training kicked-in and I watched a flood of questions roll through my thoughts.   I re-lived the past couple of hours (“how I could have forgotten it?” and positing “only if” scenarios).  I wondered if I would get the computer back and if not, what I would do.  And, I began putting plans in place for the future (“I will pay more attention next time”, “Maybe I will leave my computer home next time”, “Remember backups!”).

Fortunately, a calm, at-ease voice appeared and reminded me that the most likely scenario was that the computer was found by the students and was safe.  In that case, all I needed to do was to go back to the school, find the students and get my computer.

The adrenalin-induced internal planner shifted – calmer now, but not for long.  The inner planner blew up another storm of “what-ifs” and urgency.  So I took a deep breath and created space for the calm, at-ease voice to be heard, once again.

I got in the car and became centered in “At Ease” by focusing on the traffic.  I promised myself to watch my speed and to leave the horn, silent for slower drivers.

As I entered the parking garage, the plan careening in my head, I pulled into the first parking spot I saw.  As I got out of the car, two students walked down the ramp and we immediately recognized each other – they had been in the class.  In a matter-of-fact voice, one of the students asked “Did you leave your computer in the classroom?”  “Yes”, I replied as calmly as I could.

After a few moments of conversation, they offered to accompany me into the school building – they knew who had found the computer. As the three of us came out of the parking garage and walked toward the building, another student approached us.  He saw me and asked “Did you leave your computer in the classroom?”  “Yes”, I replied, this time with joy and relief.  He said he had the computer and it was safe in his locker.  The four of us walked to the school building, in easy conversation, and retrieved my computer.

In this, one evening, in the fall of 2011, the universe, in its wisdom, reminded me of the power of “At Ease”.   I could not have planned for the computer to be forever safe or for the students to so easily walk across my path.  Some aspects of our lives are purely magical – “At Ease” allows the magic to appear.  Planning and action allows us to co-create with the magic.

As I drove home for the second time that evening, the knowing of life’s magic embraced me as I remembered the gifts that come to me easily every day – breath and life,  my daughter, nourishing food, the community and world we all share.  And in that breath, “At Ease” settled into me.

Kathleen

Over the years, I have become well-practiced at planning my day based on moving to a prescribed, predetermined result – a drill familiar to many of us.  One day last week, I was fully into my thoughts, goals, and to-do list which included a quick side trip home to pick up papers I had forgotten earlier.   As is my ritual, I stopped the car at the curb in front of my home, opened the door and stepped out of the car.  I retrieved keys from my purse, approached the front door, put the key in the door – and then I looked down.  At my left foot was a beautiful feather lying on the doormat.  I stood quiet; took a breath and in that moment, I felt part of a life larger than my list.

So, it is no wonder that when I was reading the Sunday paper, an article and quote jumped off the page.  The article highlighted 3 award winning art teachers  and noted that a recent assignment from Kevin Cole, one of the teachers, had the students make collages “showing what they saw on the way to school each morning.”  I loved this.  It reminded me of the feather and of all of the gifts in my life that I walk by every day, without even noticing.

Being in today, for me, is about noticing – being attentive to myself and all that is around me.  I purposefully look for awe.  My breathing is awe-inspiring.  When I watch it, my mind quiets.  When I feel it, I feel the fresh air coming in and I think about all of the cells in my body dancing with that fresh air and I remember how easily they release the old – all they no longer need.

Being in Today is about noticing life – as it’s happening – and allowing it to be awe-inspiring.  Being in Today asks us to see and hear differently.  This is a practiced, alive path.  It is always there – whether we remember it or not.  And it always welcomes us back.  John Lennon captured this well:  “Life is what happens while you are making other plans”

Most days, I’m still living life that I’m planning and seeing what happens.  And often during those days, I’m also remembering to breathe in the gifts of life I easily take for granted.

As you can see, I have many stories.  What are yours?  How was your day, today?  What feather did you find on your doorstep?  What did you see on the way to work, home, or school?  What connected you with you and the world?

As you are awe-inspired, post comments, let us know and we will be awe-inspired with you!

Kathleen

The other day, a friend and I created space for conversation and met at a park – one that had swings – the type that go on a front porch, only are not on a front porch but attached to a metal frame.   It is amazing how sitting in a swing, moving your legs, and feeling the gentle sway opens new space.  We talked about what was going on our lives, our children and families, and our new ideas for life.

I talked about writing – this blog – and my first book.  The ideas are still percolating and going on pages of my journals.  I’m finding a pattern:  the essence that continues to speak to me is to connect concepts to experience.  We have all read the “How to” books and the ones that delineate insights and steps.  What really sings to me is how the steps feel when we are going through them and seeing the new possibilities every step illuminates.

In the midst of this, my friend posed the question about how I might view and write about my experiences while they were still fresh versus when I had more distance and wrote about them at some point in the future.   He posited that one view would be more “honest” than the other.  Kaboom!  This stopped me in my tracks – which meant, that I was speechless.  It was the word “honest”.

Miriam-Webster dictionary defines “honest” as “genuine, real”.  I had not thought about time being the arbiter of whether an insight or conclusion was genuine or real.  Would time have changed the experience or my story of the experience?  Would one story have more truth or honesty as a result?

The questions led me down a path of first understanding perspective and second, discovering how it changes with time, new facts, new feelings, and new understandings.  I realized that new experiences, new perspectives change our interpretations of past experiences.

I wasn’t sure about all of this – whether I was on an imaginary journey of playing in my mind or whether I could come up with examples.

The first example that came to mind is what I wrote about in an earlier blog – that 3 lefts make a right.  That means that I can look my experiences through a number of lens and see how they feel.

Then, it still being summer in Atlanta, I thought “Ice Cream”.  Every time I get ice cream, I think I know what flavor I want until I see all of the choices.  I never say to myself that I have to go with my 1st choice – I always reserve the opening to change my mind.  We don’t often think about the “more serious” aspects of life in this way, but what if we did and then felt the freedom of choice and experience?

Going onto to more serious situations, my third example was how some of my past relationships worked (or didn’t).  The story is familiar – we met, we hung out and had fun, we started not having fun, we broke up and went our separate ways.  Each phase had its perspective and feelings as I was going through it.  Later, I could see the patterns and what I learned.  This reminded me that I am happy to be writing as things happen so I capture what the experience feels like in that moment and then I can also create the perspective of time and distance.   Each story and perspective would have its own truth of experience.

Where has this led, other than a few more paragraphs of writing?  For me, it is simple, really.  All roads lead to awareness.  Perspectives change.  Our truths may or may not change.  The awareness brings an edge to our lives – where what was once certain, feels different.   Awareness brings an intimacy to life.   As it David Whyte suggests in his book, Crossing the Unknown Sea, with this intimacy “we necessarily put our very identities to hazard”.

How would I have known an afternoon with a friend, in the soft, gentle swing, with a seemingly simple question held such deepness.  Here I go.  Intimacy beckons.

There has been a lot of change in my life over the past 45 days.

Even as the changes are still new, I have been pondering some questions – three, in fact.

When does change happen and things are different, yet part of our cycles?  The example that comes to mind is the changing between day and night – night and day.  It is part of our rhythm.  Change – the ebb and flow – is part of life’s nature that we naturally integrate.

The second question is when does change happen and when  you look at it later, you realize, by golly that nothing really changed.  Hmmm. I’ve been in relationships like that.  I have also seen this happen in organizations that go through changes and voila, months later, things are operating much like they did before.

The third question is when does change happen and it is a turning point – when life isn’t the same as it was the day before? This is the change that gets our attention.  Does it matter if the change feels good or not?  If the change is one of our conscious choosing or not?  If we knew it would be coming?  I guess my pondering through my life’s course is that throughout the major changes that got my attention, not all have been turning points for me.   Those that were caused me to stop, to be, and to integrate.

That is where I am today.  At the turning point.

“Man/Woman is partly of the future, and the future s/he possesses a power to shape… Perhaps there may come to us… a ghostly sense that an invisible doorway has been opened – a doorway which, widening out, will take us beyond the nature we know.”  Loren Eiseley, an American anthropologist.

Thank you for being.

Kathleen

Over the years, I have become more and more aware of the world around me and my relationship to it.  More specifically, often, when I am in a conversation or situation, I pay attention to my reaction to the person or what is going on.  I  notice if it feels good or not.  

Certainly, there is an aspect of me that remarks “I like this” when all is going well or “I don’t like this” when the situation doesn’t feel good.  I have discovered that both situations, irrespective of my judgment or interpretation, are wisdom teachers when I am curious about my reaction.

I had a situation this week that caught my attention.  It was a business setting.  I was in a telephone conversation, with a group of people.  They described how they thought their organization was “wronged” and their intended actions as a result.  I listened and understood their perspective.  I figured we would work all of this out.   And, as they were finishing, the ending words were:  “This is just business, it is not personal”.  KaBOOM!  It felt as if they shot an arrow in my heart.

The statement was true for them.  Business was business.  They could separate their worlds.  I understood this too.  I grew up in a generation where there were boundaries and separation of roles – each with their own code.  I grew up in a family that was structured – dinner was at 6PM, we didn’t open the paper before dad read it, we called if we were going to be late (this was before cell phones), we knew the consequeneces for “good” or “bad” grades in school, and for me, the emotional one, I was often reminded to do the work and to “not wear my emotions on my sleeve”.  In organizations, we are good, or shall I say, well-practiced at developing codes, unwritten and written, as to what is  expected, what to do, and how to act.  

Over the years, I got good at playing with the rules.  And, yet, I also always kept a part of me, the rebel, hidden – or so I thought.  The people in my life who knew me well and loved me were always clued in.  So, my discovery was to recognize – to become aware of – the roles I was playing, the rules I had created for myself, and my innermost voices.  As a result, the world around me slowly transformed from being a world to “react to” to a world that was a mirror, and a co-creator of new understanding of myself. 

So, why was this comment such a sharp arrow for me, now?  What was this feeling within me that wanted to be heard, recognized, honored?  Frankly, it took time to figure this out – to see clearly.  The process was interesting, itself as I watched myself play the conversation around in my mind many times – replete with interpretations and judgments about the situation, the people and the conversations.  It was amazing – seeing all of the “he said, she said” acrobatics. 

The simple truth for me is that all of my life is personal – and the work that I do in a business organization is personal too.  It always has been this way for me (even when I was not fully aware of it) and it always will be.  The only way, I know now, to be in life and contribute to an organization is to show up every day with my mind, body, emotions and spirit engaged.   This is the often challenging part, the fully spirited human part.  This is the part of life that is intense, where my energy flows – as I am willing and able to be within the seeming paradox of all that I am and find the next step, the next word in my life.

The arrow was sharp because the time was right to be fully aware of my truth. 

I had the opportunity to share my truth with the group on the other end of the phone.  I told them that this all was personal, at least to me, because I am the one doing the work.  I also know it is personal to the people that are on our team, because I see them every day bring their essence to the work they do.  

Later, as the conversations played out in my mind, I discovered 3 things. 

First, my truth. 

Second, once I found my truth, I wanted the other group to join me in my truth, which they did not.   This second point was the catalyst for much of my angst.  I wanted reconciliation with the group – what I found was reconciliation with my truth. 

Peace in knowing and being in my truth.