MINDFUL

Oranges and Other Everyday Wonders

On a Thanksgiving weekend 30 years ago, I drove home to Southern California from a holiday gathering in another state. I was traveling with my niece April (then almost 3 years old), her baby brother and her parents. About an hour from home, we decided to take a quick break. The baby was cranky and needed a diaper change, and we wanted to stretch our legs before completing the last part of our trip. We left the freeway and stopped on a little road next to an orange grove.

April and I, walking down one aisle in this forest of orange trees, saw trees on both sides of us filled with brilliant green leaves and golden fruit. This was the first time that April, in her young life, had ever seen oranges growing on trees. She'd seen them in the supermarket. She'd seen them in a grocery bag and then in a ceramic bowl on the kitchen counter, but she'd never seen them attached to trees.

Her delight was endless. As we walked from one tree to the next, she exclaimed in her child vocabulary at the wonder of oranges on trees! And the last one in the row was just as marvelous as the first had been for her.

My list of thanks for this holiday season includes children. They remind us of the wonders that we adults take for granted. They teach us new ways to see.

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True stories of wonder and awakening are at connectingstories.com

WATER WINGS FOR SUCCESS - ISSUE 2004-12 - ISSN: 1534-178X
(c) copyright Jane Allen 2004. All rights reserved.

Can We Talk?

Last week, the San Francisco Chronicle ran an article about a book club. Members meet with their chairs in a circle, books on their laps, and have thoughtful discussions about stories, characters, authors. Lead-in statements like "I agree with you and I want to build on that" or "I partly agree...." facilitate the exchange of ideas.

Nothing unusual, right? Well, here's the kicker: this is a book club for third-graders!

So if 8-year-olds can learn to have intelligent, thoughtful, respectful conversations about topics on which they may disagree, why can't adults? As I recall, we adults used to be able to do that. Can we relearn it and bring adult conversations UP to an 8-year-old level?

Election politics have brought the art of conversation to a new low. It's not just the screaming heads on TV and radio, and it's not just political discussions. I see it on email lists and elsewhere. People express their opinions, but don't listen. With minds closed to different opinions and new information dismissed instead of assessed, the level of anger is long past a boiling point. That pot has been boiling for months.

After November 2, will we try to return to civil conversation? Here are some conversation guidelines to keep in mind:

1. Enthusiasm is great. Always combine it with respect and courtesy.
2. Try to listen more than you talk (when you are talking, you are not learning anything).
3. Ask more "Help me to understand" questions.
4. Skip the "You always" and "You never" and "I don't understand how you" statements. Those are preemptive put-downs that just rachet up the anger.
5. Ask "meta" questions like "How could we change this conversation so we can understand each other better?"
6. Don't interrupt.
7. Don't raise your voice.
8. Think before you speak.
9. Walk away when the other person is determined to fight.

HINT: You can use these rules for any conversation. They work even with adults.

Read the article

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True stories of connecting are at connectingstories.com
WATER WINGS FOR SUCCESS - Issue 2004-11 - ISSN: 1534-178X
(c) copyright Jane Allen 2005. All rights reserved.

Who's Winning The Human Race?

What does YOUR human race look like? Are you on a treadmill? Sprinting up a mountain? On a flat track running in circles and jumping hurdles?

• Who organized that race?

• How long will it last?

• Who is keeping score?

• What might be better?

Our hearts are longing to be heard, yet we may be more disconnected than ever. Opening to that place of hearing requires finding stillness. Being in the stillness (even briefly) as silent, watching, listening humans opens us to our own voices and to the voices of others. And this is how we connect with others.

Will the ultimate winners of the human race be those who stop racing? Here are two stories about people who dropped out of the race for a while. 

THE VOW OF SILENCE - While in the ninth grade, Shaheen Shidfar, stopped talking for three days. Believing that people don't listen enough and talk too much, he prepared pieces of paper to hand out. They explained that he wanted to listen instead of talk.

One teacher believed he was insane and called a counselor, but most people respected and went along with his decision. He found that friends talked more to him during his silent time, and he says, "They really wanted someone to listen to them."

His report: "I learned more about the people around me in those three days than in the three years I have known them since then. I'd recommend that everyone take a step back once in a while and get to know their friends, family and the world around them on a deeper level."

(from Parade Magazine 7/18/04)

LIVING WITHOUT - Eric and Mary Brende left Boston ten years ago to spend a year in an Amish-style community. No electricity. Nothing motorized. The less they had, the more they relied on neighbors. Instead of watching TV or surfing the Internet, they connected with people. They now live in St. Louis, but still without a computer or TV. Eric offers a pedal-powered taxi/tour service, and they make soap to earn a living.

Eric has written a book about their experience, "Better Off: Flipping the Switch on Technology."

See Eric's rickshaw. For more about the book click on "About"

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True stories of connecting, awakening, seeing and knowing are at connectingstories.com

WATER WINGS FOR SUCCESS - ISSUE 2004-10- - ISSN: 1534-178X
(c) copyright Jane Allen 2004. All rights reserved.

Pottery Barn Choices

The good news is that my husband doesn't think kitchen cleanup is woman's work. He likes to cook and probably spends more time in the kitchen than I do.

The bad news: He has a knack for breaking glassware.   

When John has dispatched enough glasses to the trash, we head to Pottery Barn for a new supply of inexpensive victims. We live in San Francisco where street parking is usually difficult, so we have a routine. John stops at the curb. My job is to jump out of the car and race into the store. John circles the block. I quickly find some OK glasses, gather up a quantity and tote them to the cash register (while hoping to get out of there ASAP).

On this day the place is nearly empty. It's just me and a young guy behind the counter and some people way in the back of the store. I'm thinking, "Lucky me. I'll be out of here in five minutes."

Wrong.

Just as I set my glasses on the counter, the phone rings. He answers. As he's talking to Caller #1, another line rings. Caller #1 goes on hold, #2 gets answered and put on hold. Back to #1. It doesn't look good. I'm wondering how many lines he has on that phone (three? four?) and why he's the only one taking calls. My 5-minute timeline just got kicked into fantasyland. John's outside making circuits around the block. I'm starting to get a little ticked off.

Moment of choice: Do I allow the cranky feelings to gather steam in my stomach and be sullen and curt OR do I let them loose on this poor guy (who's just doing his job) as soon as he's off the phone? Neither of these is a good choice. I know that. I take several deep breaths, calm down and consider a third option.

The right choice: Not only do I choose to let go of the anger -- not even let it be there -- but I decide to have a conversation with the young man once he finishes the phone calls. Here's my favorite opener. Instead of the usual "How are you?" I like to ask, "How's your day going so far?" (I don't get so many automatic, meaningless "fine" answers with that question.) 

Instead of blasting him with my impatient, self-important "I'm in a hurry, blah, blah, blah ..." I ask that question, and something quite wonderful happens. We have a chat while he wraps up the doomed glasses.

He's from Delaware. He tells me how different San Francisco is from the little place that he knows so well. We talk about how great it is to live in San Francisco. When I listen for the message in between the words, I hear him telling me that he misses home even though he's happy to be in the middle of his adventure in the city. A little homesick, but living his dream. A really nice kid. 

There's more. When he hands me my package, he says softly, "Thank you for talking to me." Those six words of gratitude (and loneliness) are so heartfelt that I stumble over my "you're welcome." It is so inadequate. My eyes fill with tears as I walk toward the door. They are tears of bliss and shame -- bliss because of the connection we'd made and shame because I, in a moment of petty self-centeredness, had considered being angry with him.

I wish I'd said something profoundly comforting or something to let him know how important our meeting was to me, too. Or perhaps that moment of connection was perfect just as it was?

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True stories of connecting, awakening, seeing and knowing are at connectingstories.com

WATER WINGS FOR SUCCESS - ISSUE 2004-10- - ISSN: 1534-178X
(c) copyright Jane Allen 2004. All rights reserved.

Stories That Connect Us

The subject of connections has been a central theme of my life and my work. That interest intensified on September 11, 2001. In the days following the day we'll never forget, we were present and connected to each other. We were struggling together trying to cope. We shared the same thoughts and grief. We hugged friends and had conversations with strangers. We slowed down and were courteous and patient with each other.

I hoped that feeling of connection would endure even after we began to heal, but I suspected it would not. I wondered how we could maintain it. Nearly three years later, I have begun a project which aims to increase the connections among us, and I would like to ask for your help. I am looking for stories that connect us and hoping that you will help me to spread the word. Would you pass this request on to others? (Even if you don't have a story to submit, I'll bet you know someone who does.)

A description of what I’m looking for and two stories are on the web site www.connectingstories.com. And here is a brief explanation:

The world is filled with divisions, anger and fear. But we also have an abundance of love and hope and reaching out. We need something that persuades us to focus on the light within each of us. I want to spread that light around the world by collecting and publishing true stories of connection.

Can you recall an experience that pulled you beyond your everyday level of awareness? An encounter that stayed in your memory and maybe even changed your life? A time when you experienced inclusion instead of exclusion, bridges instead of walls, open instead of closed? These encounters transform us. They are gifts that we give to each other. Why not share them with the world?

Please...tell me your story.

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True stories of connecting, awakening, seeing and knowing are at connectingstories.com

WATER WINGS FOR SUCCESS - ISSUE 2004-9 - - ISSN: 1534-178X
(c) copyright Jane Allen 2004. All rights reserved.

The Eighth Deadly Sin?

Graffiti seen on a building in San Francisco:

Worry – The 8th deadly sin

When I saw that message, it seemed as though it was meant for me. My little dog, Clementine, was ailing, and I was immersed in worrying about her. Were we doing our best for her and taking her to the right doctors? Would the pain continue and get worse? Would she need surgery? And the biggest fear – the one that made my stomach lurch just to think of it for an instant - was would her life eventually become so painful that we'd have to make the awful decision to release her from misery?

I had thrown myself into a pool of worry water, and I wasn't able to get out of it. The pool was getting bigger, and there I was floating in it drinking that poisoned water.

The graffiti made me stop and remember one of my favorite quotes about worry:

If you can solve your problem then what is the need of worrying?  If you cannot solve it, then what is the use of worrying? - Shantideva

It's profound advice, but oh-so-hard to practice. We humans may be better at worrying than we are at anything else. We worry about getting what we want and about holding onto what we already have. We worry about change. Will my love relationship last? Will I be happy? Will I have enough money? Will my child do well in high school? Will I get that big contract/raise/promotion/job?

In The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times, author Pema Chodron reminds us that every moment of every day is unpredictable and that clinging to – grasping for - security is futile. We will never find it. Instead we must examine how we relate to the discomfort of not knowing and use that as a teaching tool for ourselves.

The examination process starts with sitting with the fear, letting it be and not trying to shut it down and at the same time keeping an open heart and mind.  She writes:

"Instead of falling prey to a chain reaction of [emotions], we gradually learn to catch the emotional reaction and drop the story lines.... One way of doing this is to breathe it into our heart. By acknowledging the emotion, dropping whatever story we are telling ourselves about it, and feeling the energy of the moment, we cultivate compassion for ourselves."

For me, finding compassion for myself meant giving myself a break from worry. When I could relax into the fear, I remembered that worry does not help me or Clementine or others in my life. Releasing the fear (even for a few minutes) made me feel grounded and patient. The fear soon stopped leaking into other parts of my life (usually in the form of impatience or anger). I felt less tired and distracted. Progress!

And then this occurred to me: if I can relieve myself from worry (heal myself) could I somehow pass on a bit of that healing energy to Clem?

I know. That may sound crazy to some – pretty far out there – but that's what came into my mind. I had given her some massages when her problems first started months ago. It hadn't helped. Now desperate for any solution, I decided to try it again. Since I was working on releasing my fear, maybe something would be different this time?

That night when it was quiet and my husband had gone to bed, I sat on the floor in the dark and gave her a massage with the specific intention of helping her to heal. The next day for the first time in a month, she walked without limping for a good part of the day. So she got another massage that night. On the second day, again the limping was minimal; she was more alert, perky and wanted to play!

The massage is an evening ritual now. It has done more for her than the doctors and the drugs.  If we can heal ourselves emotionally, is it such a big stretch to imagine that healing energy can be passed on to others? Perhaps to the whole world?

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True stories of connecting, awakening, seeing and knowing are at connectingstories.com

WATER WINGS FOR SUCCESS - ISSUE 2004-5 - - ISSN: 1534-178X
(c) copyright Jane Allen 2004. All rights reserved.