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“Leadership is an act of the heart as much as it is an application of the mind. Great leaders, in my opinion, inspire as much through their spirit as through their vision. I attended Living Leadership because it provided me the opportunity to leave behind the day-to-day demands of running a company to explore the deeper and more subtle aspects of leadership: heart, spirit and trust. The program is ...read more

Jim Roche,
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Tundra Semiconductor Corporation, Ottawa

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“Cindy Speaks”

The Constellation Learning Newsletter
May 2006

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
-- From the song "Closing Time" by Semisonic

There is something about May, at least in Canada: a kind of newness, a brief moment in Mother Nature’s busy schedule where the world sort of sighs and stops and looks around after shaking off the after-effects of winter hibernating; a month of warmer days with a hint of the longer summer evenings soon to follow; a month of putting away all traces of the cold, replacing snow shovels for garden hoes and bags of salt for bags of mulch. It’s a merry month for sure, full of flowers and graduations and celebrations, endings in the middle of new beginnings, the paradox of every graduating senior and the nature of evolution itself: life springing from death.

Last year I took a walk along a deserted country road. As I went I noticed many of the magnificent signs of full summer: corn high in the field, the deep green of summer leaves, the yellow and orange wild flowers growing up through the patches of pavement and gravel collecting at the sides of this single lane road. I listened to the wind awaken the marsh grasses near where I stood. Crickets and frogs seem to speak in response. Suddenly butterflies appeared. They congregated, hundreds of them, from seemingly nowhere, all fluttering around the flowers in front of me. Where had they come from? I felt full up with gratitude. Surprisingly – since I’m not a poet – a verse sprang to my mind:

Butterflies begin
Cat-tails start in
All the field’s awash with wind;
Let nature’s dance of life begin.

As I said, I’m not a poet. But the sentiment is pretty.

A few minutes later, wandering away, I happened to notice a flattened field mouse in the middle of the road, curled up in a fetal position, obviously run over by something much larger and heavier than itself. I stopped and stared down at this empty shell which had once housed life. Perhaps it was the full-up-ness of the previous moments with the butterflies, perhaps it was my compromised emotional system still healing from the effects of carbon monoxide – whatever the reason, I stood there and acknowledged that small life and its passing. And even as the tears formed in my eyes and I felt somewhat foolish for such a display for so small a reason, there was something of the juxtaposition of life and death on that walk on that particular day that struck me to the core. Another verse came to my mind – how strange! – fully formed:

No one save I shall stop to cry
  lament the passing of one so small
   flattened now into a ball
    no bigger than my palm.

A little mouse far from its house
  by chance I stop and with grace sweet
   through grief, divinity meet
    a moment of holy calm.

It’s been my experience that people want to avoid the difficulties inherent to life, especially the passing of it from one form to another. (Does anybody really embrace downsizing or pink slips?) Buddhists have a saying: lean into the sharp points. Our human inclination is to run from the dead mice even as we are drawn to the butterflies. We revel in spring, but shrink from winter, though the former would be impossible without the latter. Yet, the grandest paradox of all is that by actually embracing both – life and death, good and bad, joy and sorrow – we find what it is we’ve wanted more than words can convey or poems predict: a place of holy calm.

Remember that you can not rush the natural progression of seasons any more than you can rush your life. As you charge into summer and cottages and children on vacation and commitments to your colleagues, take time to notice the newness around you, even as you clear out the reminders of last year’s now decayed garden helping to fertilize the one yet to be planted. Take time for a few moments of holy calm. They can be the connective tissue in your sanity system.

Application Tips:

  • Pay Attention – give your energy to the good stuff
    It’s hard to appreciate what doesn’t even register. You must train yourself to notice. Notice the little things, the things you take for granted: waking up in the morning, breathing, walking, talking. Start noticing all the ways your world is pretty darn great. The old adage, “count your blessings” applies here. The more you notice – every single day! – the little things, the more big things will start to happen for you.

  • Acknowledge – look for ways to appreciate
    You may not always appreciate the apparent set-backs or struggles or what ever pops up in your busy day. After all, you may be saying to yourself, a country lane walk is one thing, but in the real world? Come on…who has time to acknowledge every little thing? Well, we’re not talking about every little thing we’re talking about a couple of things, every day. Just like going to the gym or walking, it’s the discipline, the consistency that matters. Take time to acknowledge the little things once you notice them. A simple silent internal nod is all it takes to boost the internal experience of your day.


 

* See this month’s Recommended Reading

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