Human beings are strange creatures, often waiting until we are forced to change rather than choosing to change before we "hit the wall." We see signs--irregular sleep, discord with others, regular illness, excessive drama, acting outside of our values--but we ignore them. We don’t act or we don't act consistently. Each time we ignore a sign we place a brick in the wall we eventually hit when all those signs add up to crisis. Sine qua non is Latin for indispensable element or condition. I call it "readiness." This blog seeks to connect those who are searching for or have found the sine qua non of change. What makes you or keeps you from taking off? What keeps you from flying or helps you soar? What do you know about change that can help others?

Friday, November 20, 2009

It's hard to change your tennis shoes while you're running the race

Come up for air and breathe.

Feel free to pass by this blog if you already do any of the following:

  • Practice putting on your own oxygen mask first and always take time to care for yourself no matter what else is going on.
  • Spend at least some time every day alone in silence.
  • Set time aside regularly to plan, meditate, pray or practice other centering activities that help you find clarity in the world of confusion and interference.
  • Work to find clarity on what is causing angst in your life and are working to change it.

If, on the other hand, you find yourself in a life that isn't exactly what you hoped for, or you have a sadness below the surface because something just isn't right, then this entry might be for you.

It seems to be a badge of courage to move quickly, pack a lot in and have so many distractions that really important things are optional. The work, social and extra-curricular schedule of most families, where eating dinner at the same time and table is a rarity, has become the norm even when we believe we highly value our family connection. Quiet time where one can think is impossible if we are always on the run, or plugged in to music or the whim of the next text message. We are so encumbered we don't have time to slow down and examine how we're living to see if it's what we really want. Maybe that's the point. If we stay busy we can run faster than the dissatisfaction that haunts us.

Anyone who wishes to exercise more, eat healthier, spend more time with family and friends, paint, read a book, or anything they want to do but aren't MUST slow down the velocity of their life. It is impossible to get clarity about what's bugging us, let alone find a new direction if our time is so full we don't have space for new thoughts.

Because I work for myself I am fortunate to have the discretion to create some "time to change" by merely refusing work, or scheduling in a way that leaves pockets of time to explore. This down time I systematically put in my days has been pivotal in clarifying things that were out of balance, things that were unnecessary, and things that were more appealing. It took me time to take an early morning walk and really hear the birds to remind me how necessary it is to my being. It took me time to follow my bliss to acquaint me with what makes me happy.

Even if you don't work for yourself, and have lots of responsibilities, you still have control over your own time with choice points. You have the power to choose what you put in and what you leave out of your schedule. You have the right to say no to auto pilot and status quo.

Artist Kathleen Powers has a beautiful illustration to inspire your quest for down time in "The Blue Sleep" and it depicts artistically what I fall short with words to say. Note that the bird is alone in the distance, away from the maddening crowd (this can be the park or a room in your house). Note too that the creature is protected by an entanglement of branches that keeps others at a distance (a simple request for uninterrupted time behind a closed door can serve as protection). But best of all, respite is guaranteed by blocking out external interruption with the lovely blue cloth, "if I can't see you then you can't see me." What a great reminder of the permission we blindly give when we make ourselves forever available to the whims of others.

Go ahead, come up for air and breathe. Find some time and make some change.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Change requires the support of a certain kind of friend

Brain research tells us that people are more likely to learn and change behavior in a community where they can hear themselves and others talk about their experiences and feel safe to try out new skills. There's a reason counselors conduct group work, right?

Not everyone has the luxury of having a group of people at the flip of a switch, but even two people can make a community. Which got me thinking about who we have to help us when we are trying to make change. Many times people in our immediate circle are invested in us just the way we are and making change is threatening to them. Which brought me to speculate about what I see as our potential support, one of two very different kinds of friends.

Friend number one is our "kiss ass" friend. They laugh with us and cry with us and mostly just think we're adorable. They love us unconditionally, go along with every stupid decision we make and always approve. Picture the love of a Golden Retriever.

Friend number two is our "kick ass" friend, the in-your-face one who always has an opinion about what we should do, is brutally honest and loves to give us advice. My experience is that this is usually a life-time friend you've stuck with even though your family wonders why, and because they've been around so long they most resemble your older brother or sister, always questioning your sanity, judgment and hair style.

I don't think either kind of friend is much help when we need support to make change. The first will put up with us when we procrastinate, "You'll make that change when you're ready, don't worry." The second will make us defensive with sarcasm or the envitable, "You know what you need to do is . . ." Now I'm not a boxing fan, but I can see the benefit of that trainer guy in the corner, waiting until the sweaty boxer stumbles to sit down, comforting him with water and an ice pack, maybe some smelling salts, then giving a few words of encouragement and pushing him back out into the ring. Yes, we all need a kiss/kick-ass friend, one who unconditionally regards us and the change we believe we need to make in our lives, supports us when we're down without rescuing us or giving advice, and asks good questions to help us learn our lessons and have the will to keep on fighting. Oh, and did I say patient for all the times we fall short of our goal? Making change is a battlefield. Don't go it alone. But choose your friends wisely.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Two parts fun to one part change

It's not a new concept (remember pedal-powered TVs that required you to exercise in order to watch your favorite show), but there are innovators who have resurrected the concept of fun as the stimulus to get people to make change (believe it or not VW is behind the idea The site itself is "dedicated to the thought that something as simple as fun is the easiest way to change people’s behaviour for the better. Be it for yourself, for the environment, or for something entirely different, the only thing that matters is that it’s change for the better."

YouTube is the perfect venue to show the results of experiments where fun was added to some mundane task to get people to change in spite of themselves. Piano stairs is an experiment to simulate a piano keyboard next to an escalator in attempt to get people to climb instead of ride. World's deepest garbage bin tries to get passersby to use a bin that makes a plunging sound when they toss their trash. Bottle bank arcade adds a video gamesque identity to a returnable bottle receptacle to increase recycling. In all instances these masterminds increased the use of their target by adding an element of fun.

What fun can you add to the change you are trying to make? Of course, fun is in the eye of the beholder, but just think of the possibilities that might meet your fun quotient.
  • Can you have that tough conversation you've been putting off for years with your significant other by conducting it on a swing set? Can you both dress up in clown costumes before you talk?

  • Can you encourage yourself to exercise by adding a buddy to your routine, commit to dancing or laughter yoga to get the endorphins moving and establish a habit?

  • Can you coax yourself to work on your creative projects by decorating the space with balloons and crepe paper? Can you have your children paint the walls to add an element of fun?

  • Can you get yourself to eat healthier by setting up your meals in rainbow colors?

Go ahead, be silly, make some change.

The Journey

by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

I mourn for you

I cry because someone important once degraded you, carved a mark on your soul that colors your lens, distorts your thinking. I ache because your head has built a wall around your heart that protects you from people you long to know. I grieve because you serve others, settle for less than you want, sit with that lump in your throat and ache in your heart that leaks tears when you speak. I mourn for the signs you saw and ignored, parasites sucking you dry of money and emotions, of goodwill and compassion until you cannot put a sentence together any more than you can repair your life because you are clueless about where to start.

Awareness before change

Awareness November 2008

“I was hoping to come back and join you in bed,” my sweetie said clearly disappointed as he walked past me on his way to the bedroom after spending the night in the guest room where his back finds respite. “Too late,” I retorted, fully clothed, brewing a cup of coffee and unfolding my buttermilk pancake recipe. He continued to our bed, surely hoping I would change my mind. Standing my ground meant we missed out on the irreplaceable morning “spoon”—a defiance way beyond the occasion and very much out of character.

I had nothing to say on this Pancake Sunday--a ritual we started to bring the family back to the fold once a week, even after Mom arrived; even when my sweetie tried to get me to leave my post at the grill to come see the critters converged on the deck enjoying the morning’s banquet of seeds and suet. I ignored him. “I’ve got pancakes to turn,” I growled under my breath.

I could feel myself slipping over the edge as Mom poured syrup and detailed the lives of her neighbors and their little girl whom she cannot forgive for going without underpants, and the impending birth of twins, and the small house they live in, and the Mom’s favorite coffee and their latest conversation encased in a “Then I said,” and “Then she said,” recalling every word. “I don’t care,” I thought, through my blank stare.

That was the first time I realized my heart hurt. Not the “I’m-having-a-heart-attack” kind of hurt, but an ache in the anterior. I breathed deep into the pain and sighed.

Luckily only Mom had joined us on this Sunday after Thanksgiving. Instead of the usual group of friends and optimistic chit-chat, we ate with an uncomfortable quiet. It didn’t take long for her to pack up and go home after breakfast, leaving me alone to dwell on the status of my relationship, the recent and untimely death of a friend, my floundering career. My heart hurt. I breathed deep and sighed and relieved it for a moment more.

Awareness October 2009

Darkness had not yet dissolved on the Saturday morning I awoke anxious and sad and inconsolable. The contrast was stark to the usual song in my head. The frenzy prevented me from turning and breathing and willing myself back to sleep. What? I wondered.

The channels flipped on my internal tube, exposing trailers of unfinished business, the chasm I feared growing between me and my daughter, the class the previous day that produced two negative evaluations, conversation with the neighbors at dinner the night before where we talked about elders and our turn, Thanksgiving plans upended again in a phone call.

I paused and hit replay. Decades of chaotic Thanksgiving scenes montaged through; my Dad’s death on the holiday when I was 5, yelling and swats with the hair brush over dresses and curls, a major riff in the family where half split off to celebrate elsewhere, Mom insisting on celebrating one place or another creating the necessity to “pick sides,” my daughter throwing up to avoid choosing, the ache in my heart the year before. Years of chaos and drama created by ancient sadness and suffering disguised itself as current reality and visited me there in my bed to me to remind me to move on.