Reflections

Outside my window, a ray of sunshine amidst the winter gray reminds me of the warmth and light always present, the spring waiting to reemerge.  My despondency about our current economic climate reminds me of this cloudy day.  I joined friends and family over the holiday season venting our frustrations about the financial atrocities carried out by captains of industry.  We were amazed at their depth of piracy and condemned their actions.  Our worries and fears for our own future overshadowed the days.

Last week, though, a figurative ray of light burst through the gray haze.  I was on my way to lunch, just pulling out of my parking space, when I noticed a ball of fur next to the dumpster.  I stopped to investigate, gingerly approached the moving fur, and saw a lop-eared rabbit, someone's pet.  But I did not see anyone searching for it.

"What to do?" was my first reaction.  I decided to get lunch and, should the bunny still be there when I returned, start looking for its owner.  I anticipated knocking on neighbor's doors and putting water out for the rabbit.  

Twenty minutes passed and, pulling back into the parking area, I noticed a flyer stuck to a nearby utility pole.

LOST BUNNY

"PIRATE"

tan, lop-eared

If found, call: ...

I checked.  The rabbit was now hiding under the abandoned Christmas tree behind the dumpster.  I called the number on the flyer and soon the owner and her son appeared to rescue their pet.  But the story did not end there.

When I'd stepped outside my front door to meet the owners, giving them direction by cell phone, I inadvertently locked the door and walked out without my keys.  Fortunately, I discovered this mistake before they drove off. There was no contingency plan, no key stashed under a pot.  But the mother and son insisted on "breaking in" to my home, saving me a call to a locksmith.  She ventured back and forth between our homes, returning with various tools.  Other neighbors also stopped to offer help.  Our pooled resources finally solved the dilemmas of the lost pet and the locked door.

Gratitude exchanged, I went inside.  Despite shivering from standing in the winter cold without a coat, I was filled with warmth from the experience.

Later in the day I shared the inspirational story with friends at my yoga class.  I noticed the growth of an emotional glow each time I described Pirate's and my rescue--the power of simple acts of kindness.

I returned home hours later and received a call from the mother.  She'd left a Thank You gift on my front doorstep.  I found a pound cake, still warm and fresh from her oven wrapped in plastic.  Again my heart filled with the warmth of her generosity and gratitude.

Times of crisis can breed deep feelings of fear and anxiety.  Pirate's owners searched for hours and gave up hope of finding him.  But a series of serendipitous events restored him to his home and generated a momentary bond of community between strangers.

I believe those warm rays of humanity are the true foundation of wealth.  I don't know about you, but I am resolving today, and in the coming year, to pass on this lesson of generosity.

The spirit of community is a powerful force, the constant sun behind the changing cycles of life.  We cannot ignore the reality of our current economy any more than I could ignore the reality of getting caught without a coat in the winter cold.  But the clouds of winter and the sun's warmth are interrelated just as community and our economic climate are connected.

When the financial crisis began, I was angry along with everyone else.  I participated in community by sowing seeds of fear and rage.  Discovering a community centered on kindness and jointly solving a crisis led to a new awareness and choice.  Did I want to focus on the greed of others, generating feelings of helplessness, distrust, and tension in my body?  Or, did I want to open the door to the spirit of kindness and limitless generosity available within my own heart?

Like a ray of sunlight, one Pirate opened the hearts of strangers and fueled the resolution of a crisis.  The rapid expansion of emotional connection, trust, and generosity multiplied (like the economic dollar) throughout the day. Genuine wealth can never be stolen.

I'm ending this entry with the desire to explore this foundation of community on a deeper, personal level.  I want to apply my training in systems theories to this experience and see how I can build this wealth into all areas of my life.  In addition, I think it important to live in the reality of our current climate and explore how to respond from a centered position.  I'll share more in the coming weeks.

The economic crisis in our country has stirred much anxiety and distress among communities.  I notice my own concerns rise and fall like waves in my mind, usually stimulated by memories of past economic failures.  However, I maintain an overall calm as I listen to clients deal with their uncertainty or watch the national/international news--present moment involvement in events of my life.

My calm is centered in a trust I've found; trust in my ability to navigate environmental conditions.  Over the years, I've worked to build the ability to learn from present moment circumstances.  Accuracy in my perception is a result of listening to wise teachers, applying the teachings to my own experience, and fine-tuning my responses to others and the environment.  Perception is key to effective action and is essential to survival in rapid changing environments.

The Outward Bound program teaches survival in rugged wilderness.  The two guides on my Outward Bound journey helped shape my understanding of the importance of perception when interpreting environmental cues. The conditions of the moment could be dangerous or supportive depending on one's familiarity with Nature's cycles and moods.  They often used moments in our adventure as a metaphor to teach us about life.

One such moment was a volleyball-like game they'd arranged.  It was our groups' first day out and we were all dressed in our best outdoor gear.  The first stop on our canoe journey was a mud bog.  We gingerly stepped out of the canoes and walked on the plants that grew on the surface of the bog.  Then our leaders instructed us in bog ball.  Hitting the beach ball across the artificial court quickly dissolved into a mudfest.  The leaders' knew how to break through our inhibitions about getting down and dirty.  We lost our trepidation, laughing and playing as we jumped after the ball and fell full-bodied into the mud's embrace.  Freedom from fear was intoxicating.

The teaching followed.  Dave compared athletics to our outdoor experience.  He asked us, "Do you want to be a weekend basketball player, an intramural basketball player, or a professional basketball player when it comes to the outdoors?  Are you a weekend camper, an outdoor sports enthusiast, or a person committed to developing environmental skills and abilities?  The later requires you to lose your fear and develop intimacy with the environment.

The economic bog facing us today is another tremendous wilderness challenge for our country and our world.  We are forging a new path and, like the mud bog, there is the possibility of drowning.  But I discovered that solid ground lay about two feet beneath the water's surface.  And the plant growing in the mud created a matted surface to safely walk on.

Fear would have kept us stuck on the surface of the water.  Courage and curiosity emerged with the guidance of wise leaders.  Confidence in our ability to explore and find new ways of experiencing the environment resulted. Our community of wilderness survivors became environmental enthusiasts.  Getting our hands dirty and learning about our surroundings transformed our perception of reality from an environment full of hazards--like a pending lightning storm or the rocky water rapids--to a rich land of resources--like the water as a source of transportation or the rapid growth of teamwork needed to face challenges and complete the journey.

Fun and joy accompanied our hard work.  But the gift I walked away with was an understanding of community learning.  Each person's voice was important to our team reaching our destination.  Each person was a learning system and as our voices came together our group became a learning team.

I see the possibility for survival in our current economic crisis.  Beyond that, I see the opportunity for development of a learning nation.  My experience of calm is centered in diving into the economic mud of my own life and discovering the solid ground underneath.  As we walk through this collective crisis, we have important lessons to share.  I teach the value of embracing the moment, opening to reality, and trusting our ability to learn.  Fear is just one reaction to the "unknown" and "uncertainty."  I choose freedom. 

August, 1993, I signed up for a canoe expedition with Outward Bound, a survival training.  At the end of the week of challenges, I felt more powerful than ever before--as if I could accomplish anything I wanted.  I discovered strength through overcoming the obstacles of the landscape.

Prior to the trip, I was often anxious about my daily survival--living from paycheck to paycheck, worrying about reaching my goals, and building relationships.  But after the trip, lessons of the expedition became life lessons. 

Trusting an inner resource of strength was the most important lesson.  The greater the adverse conditions, the more energy I exerted to meet the challenge, and the inner pool of resources opened.  I committed to building my awareness of this inner resource for all experiences of life and to develop the ability to maintain this connection.