Faith, trust, hope

I found myself encouraging a client this week not to give up on her dream. She is a talented and dedicated teacher in an educational system that is outside the mainstream system. She and I agreed that the original intention of the founder of this particular educational philosophy was that the schools be small, and rooted in the communities in which the students and the families live. Unfortunately, this is not the norm. Most of these small schools have a hard time surviving and, operating as close to the knuckle as they do, they are constantly searching for resources, volunteer help and enough money to give the teachers a living wage. It's an uncertain and stressful life but so worthwhile as a living alternative to an increasingly stressed public school system.

Once she had gone home, I found myself thinking of all the change-makers whom I know and how challenging it is for them to ride in the visionary section of the bus of life. It takes a unique sort of person to hang in there long enough to see the changes of which they dream. Such a person must be dedicated to their vision, stubborn as hell, self-motivated and and almost hardwired not to let go. Even with these qualities, it's often a lonely ride and they eventually get tired. And frequently they run out of resources.

Our communities desperately need these individuals for our long-term survival; not in the present so much as in a future, around the bend where we cannot yet see. Some of these people will be recognized and maybe even rewarded within their lifetimes, but most of them plug away doing their small but essential bit, with no acknowledgment and little desire for it. At the most, one day in the far off future, someone might say of them, "Oh yes, odd duck; she was ahead of her time."

This client and friend is one of those people. She honestly doesn't see herself as anyone exceptional. She just wants to make enough money to earn a living, and for there to be enough support for the school so that it can stay afloat and allow her to continue teaching, doing what she is so talented at. Right now, she is feeling close to the end of her rope - financially, emotionally, energetically and creatively.

She isn't alone. Some of us obviously live an alternative life. You can point us out and wonder how we do it. But some of us are closet 'alternative-ists'. We secretly root for the people who are brave enough, silly enough, or perhaps free enough, to be able to take the risk it requires to go against the norms of our society, but we don't broadcast our sympathies. Collectively, I think there are far more of us in this world than we know about - both the obvious variety and the closet ones.

I've heard it said that these odd-balls who live or work on the fringe are disparaging of the people who aren't doing what they are, but I don't think this is true - at least not unless they are feeling at the end off their rope. Some vocal activists might come out with strong messages urging people to change, (or else there will be dire consequences) but there are many more people who just want to keep quietly experimenting in the hope of one day reaching their ideal. The projects might not all succeed, but remember that Edison had far more 'failures' than successes. You have to break a few eggs to make an omelet (sorry to be trite).

So I was encouraging my client to keep the faith, simultaneously realizing that I could have been giving myself the same message. Faith, trust, hope, call it what you may, we need it or we'll give up. Our mad social scientists won't be able to keep plugging away and in so doing, keep the light burning to show the path for those who will be trying to find a better way in the future. So if you come across one of these odd ducks - these change-makers - help them out if you can, but spare some encouragement for them at the least. They're ahead of the curve and those of us who notice them are their safety net. For those of you who already do this, you have my heart-felt appreciation.

Maybe I'm not 'just lazy'

I've been party to more than half a dozen conversations in the last six months about laziness - most of them where people have referred to themselves as, "I guess I'm just lazy". I was talking about it with a friend the other day and it got me thinking about how it works with me. When this comes up with clients, my standard response is that I don't think that labeling ourselves as lazy is entirely accurate.

I can't honestly say that I've met many people in my life, if any, who are lazy by nature. In fact, I believe that we are only what we refer to as 'lazy' when we aren't motivated to do what we, or society , says should be done. If we're avoiding something, then I suspect we're avoiding it because there's an aspect to it that scares us or at least doesn't feel right.

Sometimes, instead of saying we're lazy, we say we can't be bothered. I wonder what that phrase, 'can't be bothered', really means. If something 'bothers' me, then it makes me feel badly; it's irritating to me. Maybe I really mean that I don't want to be bothered by the task. Furthermore, I might not consciously know why. It's semantics, I know, but defining what it means to me may be revealing of what's going on subconsciously.

When I have been labeled lazy in my life, I could, and still can, immediately conjure up the heavy feeling in my body. My limbs feel like they're weighted down with lead. My stomach almost feels full. I feel tired and my brain goes fuzzy. In fact, it feels like my brain just won't work, like when the bushing went on the gear shift in my car and I just couldn't get it into first gear.

This doesn't feel lazy to me. What it actually feels like is resistance. And looking at why I'm resisting is probably more productive than feeling guilty for being 'lazy' or feeling resentful about being pushed. I'm a person who is naturally interested in the world. If someone comes to fix the furnace, I want to watch the process and ask questions. I want to know who was on the phone and where you're going. I've been called nosy for just these reasons. How can someone who is that nosy be lazy - about anything?

No, I think that what we call 'laziness' could be a passive form of resistance. The body and the psyche say, "Nope. We're not doing this. It isn't right. Can't talk about it. End of story." I think it indicates some form of internal conflict. If I really felt, inside myself, that not doing whatever I believed I was supposed to, was acceptable, I would just go on and do something else. But if I felt that I should do it and I'm not comfortable with my reasons for not doing it, or I felt that I would end up in a fight that I couldn't win, then I might shut down and seem what is easy to label in myself as lazy.

I think it's worth our while as individuals to take a look at what it could be about the task that might not feel right to us and why. I think this is especially important for parents, spouses and bosses as well. Getting irritated with the employee, disciplining them, or even shaming them, isn't likely to move the impasse and will likely give you heart burn. Equally, self-criticism won't make me want to do what I'm avoiding and will just make me feel worse.

If I can get underneath why I don't want to do a particular task such as looking for a job, challenging someone who is bothering me, learning something new, or changing a habit, then I might be able to challenge my own assumptions and change how I see the task. It may turn out that I don't need to do it in the first place, or maybe I can do something to combat the fear or discomfort. I might need another skill. It's possible that my reluctance could have to do with what I feel capable of, or a fear of failure. Once I can see it for what it really is, instead of putting it down to 'laziness', I open up more options for dealing with it.

So here's my closing metaphor: If I'm trying to untangle a great, big snarl of yarn so that I can knit with it, yanking at it isn't going to get the snarl unknotted. What may be more effective is to gently tease it apart, loosening the knots - and then to take care not to put it back where it was, thus preventing it from becoming snarled again.

The next time you find yourself tempted to say 'just lazy' about yourself, be kind and take a second look. Ask yourself what's really going on and see if you can find what's undermining your motivation. You might be surprised!

Being the most 'you'

I've said this many, many times but I think it bears repeating:

Your job on this planet is to be the most authentic 'you' that you can possibly be. Sound easy? Not a chance! I think we have to spend a life-time figuring out who we are.

We do it in a whole bunch of ways, as different as we are all unique. Some of us make mistakes - tons of them. You can imagine that if we learn from our mistakes, the more you make, the more you learn. Do it in bulk. Many of us are pros at this. The downside is if you don't learn and keep making the same mistakes. But if you do learn: wow, a Ph.D in wisdom!

And then there are those of us at the opposite end of the continuum who are afraid to put a foot wrong. Maybe we won't learn from 'out there' mistakes but, we might learn something else. Staying out of the line of fire might give us opportunities to learn on the inside instead of the outside.

But I suspect that most of us don't make any resolutions. We're just trying to live our lives as best we can, and get on with the demands of the day. And then, BOOM, splat, there arrives an opportunity to be the most 'us' - to choose to be true to ourselves or betray ourselves by trying to be someone else, or please someone else. Most of the time, we might not even know what we've done.

How could that happen? I've thought about it. For me, I think it happens when I forget who I am. Funnily enough, I find it's easier to remember who other people are than who I am. Perhaps we're taught to be externally focused and to define ourselves through the reactions we get from the people around us. It's the 'how am I doing?' reflex. 'Do they like me?', 'Will I get the promotion?', 'Will I get the what-a-dufus look behind my back?'. We learn early that kids can be cruel and some adults not much better. The lessons can be hard and reach far into adulthood.

Some of us spend time and energy seeing a therapist, for months or years, figuring out how to re-frame what happened to us in our childhoods and then deciding whether or not reacting to our current world from our unconscious childhood world-view, still works for us. It would be ideal if we grew more self-confident as we grew older, and some of us do, but some of us still have those pesky fears that sing in our ears, trying to keep us safe and comfortable.

There's nothing wrong with safety and comfort, as far as it goes. A few years ago, I was feeling at a loss and having a hard time making a decision. I caught myself trying to decide how I 'should' react. Nothing felt right, no matter how I justified each possible choice to myself. As often happens when I feel blocked and stuck, I turned to sitting quietly with a candle lit and endeavouring to find my 'inner' voice. I wasn't bargaining for what I heard. I paraphrase here in the interest of brevity:

"You aren't on this planet to behave as other people would, nor to have their talents. You are here to be the most 'you' that you can possibly be. It's the only thing that no one else can hold a candle to. The world would be meaningless if we were all cast from the same mold. You act in your best interests when you follow your own blueprint and not someone else's."

It was an answer but it still required some work on my part. I had to be really honest with myself about what I wanted, needed and had to offer - popular or unpopular. I'm still working on defining the essence of who I am but I think I'm clearer than I was those years ago. It's a work in progress but I know it's worthwhile.

A little communi-tea

I have a wonderful friend who, years ago, sent me a vine wreath for Christmas. It hung horizontally from a red ribbon, like a frizbee. From the bottom of the wreath hung twelve small, felt stockings, about three inches long, each a different colour. There was one for each of the twelve days of Christmas, beginning on Christmas Day and going until January 5th. She filled each little stocking with a small gift, all with an overall theme. I was absolutely delighted with this gift, more because of the thoughtfulness than because of the gifts. My friend had one of her own which gave her the idea to make one for me.

The next year, she suggested that I return the wreath to her so that she could fill it again. I suggested instead that I send her gifts for her stockings and she could send me new ones for mine. And so began our own little tradition of filling tiny stockings according to a theme. It has become quite a creative challenge to find a theme, with twelve parts to it, and get it in the mail in time for Christmas. The pay-off isn't just in opening the interesting little packages; it's in the giving.

This year my theme for her was tea. I found twelve different teas, wrapped them in 1-ounce packages and sent them off. Next I started researching about tea. I thought I would put a 'factoid' about tea in an email each day and send it off to her, so that she could enjoy a little information with her cups of tea. My research project grew and grew and became an education for me, never-mind her!

What I expected was to find out where tea is grown, how it is harvested, how to make the perfect cup of tea, even about tea pots and cups and saucers. What I didn't expect was to find out about how tea has affected world economics and politics. It is the single most consumed beverage in the world. It helped prevent water-born diseases from spreading because the water had to be boiled. It contributed to the Opium Wars in China and the "Boston Tea Party" in the US. In some parts of the world, it has even been used as currency, being more valuable than little disks of metal. Tea is light, it travels well, keeps for a long time, quenches thirst, imparts a physical and mental pick-me-up, doesn't have bad side effects, and the leaves can be used more than once.

But what I wanted to highlight today is how drinking tea is a ritual that fosters community. Because we need to boil the water, prepare the pot, pour the milk or cut the lemon, we have to take time. Whether we are communing with ourselves or with others, we take a little time - something that I mentioned in my Christmas blog. For me, tea is more than just a drink, it is a pause.

I suppose everyone does something different in their 'pause' but for me I can associate tea with most of the daily and momentous events of my life. I guess you could say that it's a gentle addiction. I have gone without it for periods of time in my life and, although I miss it, it's physically not bad to get over. What I miss more than the substance of the leaves is the ritual. And the ritual can take place almost anywhere. Although tea houses are on the rise, or re-rise, as they were the places to see and be seen in England in the 1800's, we can practice the tea ritual, in any of its forms, at home or in public.

The Japanese have made it an art form. To really do the Japanese tea ceremony 'right' you would have to take classes, which are offered in just about any major urban centre, to those who are interested. What's really sacred here is not so much the tea as the relationship between the person who makes and offers the tea and the person, or people, who drink it. To my mind, it's about the sacred act of nurturing relationship and therefore, community.

In my life I have solved problems over a cup of tea, brain-stormed, deepened friendships, shared sorrows, waited, celebrated, met people for the first time, done deals, nursed sick tummies and head colds, and just plain old quenched my thirst. It gives 'put the kettle on, would you?' a richer meaning!