SPF 365 Experiment

Tonight we watched a documentary about the similarities between an orphanage for orangutans in Borneo and an orphanage for elephants in Kenya. The film, entitled Born to Be Wild, showed in intimate detail how similar the needs and behaviors of the young of these two species of mammals are to our own young. They need loving attention and play. Baby elephants will die if they are not happy and they are more comfortable sleeping with others than sleeping alone. They love to play, as do orangutans, and they learn through play.

I remember seeing an exhibit on genetics with my daughters at the Pacific Science Center a few years ago and learning what a tiny percentage of DNA differentiates one species of mammal from another. It’s no wonder that elephants experience empathy as much as we do. We have so much in common with our mammalian cousins and yet these orphanages were for young animals who lost their mothers through human actions: poaching elephant tusks and cutting down rainforests. What will it take for us to understand our connectedness to these “planetmates” of ours?

Unfortunately, there will be nobody to take in our children if we make our own habitat unlivable. If we are to avoid that fate, I think a good, first step, would be to begin rebuilding with the empathy, not just for our own species, but for all of our planetmates and the common habitat which we all share.

No matter how much we have separated ourselves from nature with our cars and asphalt roads, our homes and creature comforts, and our electronic entertainment, we cannot escape the truth that the air we breathe, the water we drink and the food we eat all come from our shared planet Earth and our health is inextricably tied to the health of our planet and indeed, of our planetmates as well.

Watch Born to Be Wild if you can, but please, at least take a step to rebuild. Our entire race and planet depends on all of us.

Although what I want is perfection, what I need is progress through persistent practice.

Charles went to a camping equipment store to replace a missing clip on his backpack. He lost one of the clips on one of the straps he had on the bottom of the pack, and we wanted J to use the backpack on her week-long school trip to the Cascade Mountains. The idea was to attach her sleeping bag to the bottom of the backpack using the straps — thus the need to replace the missing clip.

I suggested to Charles that he bring the backpack to the store to try the replacement clip on the backpack before buying it. However, neither Charles nor I thought to check that the straps were long enough to reach around J’s sleeping bag. Charles simply assumed they would be, and our minds were entirely fixed on replacing the missing clip. Unbeknownst to us, our thinking was limited: we only focused on making sure the new clip fit the strap, and we overlooked the need for making sure the strap worked with the sleeping bag, although the latter was the real impetus behind Charles’ shopping trip.

Charles triumphantly came back from the store with the new clip. I say “triumphantly” because he was sure that the clip he purchased would work with the strap, and that therefore we could use the straps to hold the sleeping bag. However, to our dismay, when we tried appending J’s sleeping bag to the backpack using the completed straps, the straps were too short. It was not a big deal because the store is only a 10 minute drive away, and it was open. But in that very moment of discovery, it felt idiotic (for not having tried the straps with the sleeping bag at the store), inconvenient (for having to go back to the store), and irritating (for both of the foregoing reasons).

When Charles went back to the store to get longer straps, this time with the sleeping bag in tow, I tried my hand at making pound cake. It was a dessert night — our daughters have dessert after dinner every other night — and I wanted to slip some pound cake in J’s snack bag for the three-hour bus ride to her school trip destination.

I looked at the recipe and took the ingredients out of the refrigerator and pantry to get going. I honestly do not remember how I assumed I would need one pound of butter to make a pound cake, but I did. Yes, it is a lot of butter, and that was the reason why I haven’t tried making a pound cake. I didn’t think that much butter would be healthy for anyone! However, I wanted to make something special before J’s week-long absence, and her road trip, so I got brave enough to bake what I thought was extremely unhealthy dessert. (In hindsight I think it was quite irrational for me to bake something unhealthy for a special occasion!)

I double-checked the ingredients and quantities required, and even caught that I needed one more egg to put in the batter than I had originally thought. Notwithstanding my effort to be accurate, I completely missed seeing “12 TBS of butter” in the recipe. Because my mind was fixed in the false assumption I had maintained for years that a pound cake required a pound of butter, I completely overlooked the actual amount called for in the recipe — even though it was right there, in my sight! I looked at how much butter was written in the recipe, but I failed to see that the stated 12 TBS of butter did not equal the 1 pound of butter that was etched in my false assumption! (Looking back at the one pound of butter in that batter, it makes me sick to my stomach to just think about that much butter in any recipe!)

Even as I poured the batter into the baking pan, I wondered out loud, “How could the batter fill up this pan with no room to rise at all!” I sensed that something wasn’t quite right, yet I was still ignorant of my oversight. I was blinded by my unchecked assumption. Sure enough, soon after I put the pan filled with batter into the oven, I smelled something weird. When I peered into the oven, I saw butter bubbling up and dripping over the edge. It was the butter pooling on the bottom of the oven making that funny smell!

S smelled the burning butter, too, and she came into the kitchen to announce her displeasure. When I told her that butter was dripping out of the baking pan, she asked, “Whatcha bakin’?” in her cutesy way, mimicking Isabella — a character in Disney’s animated series “Phineas & Ferb” whose trademark line for greeting her friends is “Whatcha doin’?” I told her that a pound cake with a pound of butter was in the oven. She immediately said, “Mom, pound cake does not take a pound of butter.” Even then, it did not occur to me that I might have overlooked something in the recipe!

Charles came back from the store, happy with the new pair of straps because this time he tried them around J’s sleeping bag at the store. Then he asked about the funny smell. I told him the same thing I told S: a pound cake with a pound of butter was in the oven. Charles looked puzzled. “A pound of butter? I thought it called for 12 TBS in the recipe. That is 6 oz. of butter, not a pound!” I wanted to disbelieve what he just said, but another part of me knew all along that a pound of butter was a lot for a 9”x5” loaf of pound cake! I controlled my urge to scream. How idiotic (for not checking my false assumption about a pound of butter in pound cake!), inconvenient (for not having the cake I wanted to serve for dessert and snack for J’s field trip!), and irritating (for both of the foregoing reasons)!

My outburst at this disappointing result did not last long, though. Charles remarked later that I have gotten much better at handling mistakes, and that it did not take me long to get over it. Not only that, more importantly, he noticed that I no longer beat myself up when I make a mistake. This time my outcry was limited to saying something along the lines of: I would not bake again, and Charles must do all baking going forward because he, unlike me, knows how to read measurements correctly!

Both Charles and I learned our lessons through our bumbling experiences. Even with all of our daily meditations, conscious living with awareness, and focus on present moments, our assumptions can still make us blind, and we are prone to slip and fall nonetheless. But the important thing is to keep showing up notwithstanding the slipping and falling. Picking ourselves up again to take another step in our practice and continue the journey onward is what it’s all about. We have learned that it’s progress, not perfection, that we are after in our perfect imperfections.

In the meantime, on our kitchen countertop the ill-fated pound cake silently awaits its destiny.

Doubled the butter
In the pound cake recipe.
Won’t do that again.

Jung accidentally put a full pound of butter into the pound cake when the recipe called for half of that. However, the verdict from Charles, S and J is that it is still good! S & J especially loved the taste, but Jung was afraid they would get sick, so each of us only ate a thin slice. What shall we do with the rest? Oof!

Playing with my kids,
They love to be my teacher,
And I love to learn.

For many years Jung and I have been guiding and helping our daughters. Now, when we game together, they are often the ones guiding me, helping me, and giving me advice. I can tell that they love the role-reversal, and frankly, so do I!

It hit me all of a sudden today that I have never once felt bored since I left corporate employment more than six months ago!

I am finally learning the meaning of what it means to live fully. I often wondered in the past, “What does it mean to ‘live fully’?” whenever I came across these words in Hallmark cards, or the numerous self-help books I read.

Doing things just because I am told I have to, or because I’ve told others that I would, whether I want to or not, creates boredom and/or resistance. I think the only explanation for my ability to do so much of what felt to me like “make work” for so long (twenty plus years) was because I was trained to be super responsible, reasonable, and reliable for nearly twenty years in school: twelve years before college, four years of college and three years of law school. So there, I did my time and now I am free!

It is not a coincidence that I notice my daughters being bored at their school. I can truly relate to their complaint. I am also convinced that it does not have to be that way. There has to be another way for children to learn and grow up to be competent, happy, and independent individuals, just as there has to be a way for adults to work and live as competent, happy, and independent individuals.

I realize that I am free at last for the first time in my life since MyCrownShift. Free in a sense that I feel truly unencumbered by any external expectations, demands, or construct imposed on me by a person or institution. As a child, I had to live up to my parents’ and teachers’ expectations and demands. In college and law school, I continued to try to fit in within the social and institutional boundaries of the educational environment although I did not feel at home. Afterwards, as a professional, I got more deeply engrafted in workplace culture to learn and play the game of charades that did not make much sense to me.

Unlike my own life story, there are many people who broke out of the mould imposed on them when they were a child (like one of my brothers) or in college or later in their profession, and followed their bliss earlier in their lives to live fully as they know how. I also suspect that there are as many people who succeeded and exceeded in living up to external expectations, demands, or constructs imposed on them (like my other brother), and followed their ambition to live fully as they thrive in their chosen vocation. I fully recognize that each of us has his or her own path of discovery, learning, and expansion into fully becoming who we are meant to be in life.

There is no right or wrong path. We each have our own path to walk as faithfully as we can.

Speaking of “our own path,” this year to me feels akin to a pilgrimage. Although I am not physically on the road, I do feel that I am on a metaphorical road, away from the familiar, social and economic culture and structure in which I was a member for so long.

John Fancis, in his book Planet Walker, references the Belgian ethnographer Arnold Van Gennep who defined three distinct phases through which every pilgrim must pass:

“The first is that of separation or detachment from the familiar; the second he referred to as liminal, a sort of ambiguous state during which the pilgrim is part of no fixed social structure; and the third is the reaggregation, which occurs when the pilgrimage is completed and the pilgrim returns to society.”

I find myself reflected in this description; at least in the first and second phases for now, and I sense that I will complete this pilgrimage year with the third phase of returning to society when I have found or created work that will feed both my soul and my family.

This description of the pilgrim’s phases provides me with comfort and support in knowing that I am part of a timeless tradition. Although I did not know consciously that I needed to get on the road as a pilgrim to reconfigure, reconstitute, and reinvent myself, I did know subconsciously that I needed separation or detachment from the familiar. Now I know why I was not interested in finding a new career or job, or in launching a business venture when I arrived at my decision to leave Microsoft: I had go on my pilgrimage first.

In addition, a temporary leave of absence to take time off and “sort things out” did not make sense to me either. In hindsight, I can be certain that it would not have worked for me because what I needed was the first phase of pilgrimage: separation — complete detachment from who I had become, what I was doing for work, and whom I was trying to please.

I suspect that I am currently in the second phase of liminal or ambiguous state since I do not feel part of any fixed social structure at this time. Again, it is exactly what I need to: freely explore, experiment with, and experience, in order to expand my horizon, perspective, and wingspan. I am loving this freedom to learn what I want to learn, when I want to learn, who I want to learn with, how I want to learn, and where I want to learn!

Simultaneously, I am discovering that free range learning and free range living are intimately connected. We cannot have one without the other. Both learning and living require our effort no matter how we learn and live. It is up to each individual to choose wisely though when it comes to “how:” are you investing your effort in ways to harvest joy, vitality, and abundance; or drudgery, apathy, and scarcity? How we go about achieving our end goal matters in learning and living. The end ought not be used to justify the means, because each step toward the finish line matters: integrity and authenticity in the process are necessary to safeguard the integrity and authenticity of the results. As Charles wrote previously, “Today begets Tomorrow” and “Like begets Like”.

As a late bloomer, I have only begun to taste the true freedom of being faithful to myself, listening to my inner authority, and seeing with balanced clarity. I will say “Better late than never!” because life is a journey in which everyone participates, and the journey is the reward.

Today the bulk of my creative energy went towards finishing my themes for the film I’m scoring. If you’re familiar with the Pareto Principle, you know that completing the last 20% of a project takes 80% of the effort. That was today. I spent a lot of time fiddling and fine-tuning melodies, harmonic structures and accompaniment figures. I spent a quarter of that time also fiddling with my notation software, trying to get the music to look right on the page.

It was a lot of work, and each time I thought I was done, I would find “one more thing” that could improve the music until… I didn’t. It was strange. I had become so used to repeatedly finding something else that didn’t look right or didn’t sound right that I almost doubted myself when I couldn’t find anything to change.

It’s not that it was “perfect” per se; it just felt finished.

It’s such a blessing to be able to feel that point of “enough” when I know that putting in more effort, time, money, attention, consumption, etc. isn’t going to create any further significant results. It’s a blessing to know when one thing is finished and it’s time to move on.

“Perhaps it is a beginning, but now I see that I am going to have to change not just on the outside but on the inside too, in more ways than I can now imagine. I think that maybe I have already begun this inner change. It seems that all change begins unseen or at least unnoticed in the journey that we call life.” ~ John Francis, Planet Walker

The above passage resonated with me as I re-read my post from yesterday entitled, “Journey with Anam Cara.” Most of the significant changes in our lives start from inside ourselves whether we saw or noticed them coming, occurring, or passing; or not.

I never felt quite myself throughout most of my legal career and corporate life, no matter how much I tried to like, be satisfied with, or believe in, the work I was doing. All those years, I thought it was my career, job or workplace that needed to be fixed. I truly did. I thought if I could only figure out my perfect career, most interesting job, and exciting workplace, then I would be all set to enjoy my life. I was looking for a clear, crisp and correct answer once and for all.

Now I laugh at myself for thinking that I could figure out all these things over a weekend, a workshop, or a retreat. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised at myself. I was taught in school that anything can be achieved with intelligence and diligence, and that if I do not achieve it is because I wasn’t smart enough and/or driven enough.

As absurd as it may sound, for a long time, it didn’t occur to me that my happiness ought to be part of the success equation. Now I would say that my happiness is the best indicator of my success. If I am not happy, would anything matter in the end? What is the point of hard work for achievement, accomplishment and acquisition if none of the above brings me happiness?

If I had been awake enough to know this earlier, I would have looked within, not without, for clues because I ought to know best how to make myself happy, joyful, and fulfilled in life.

Ah, there lies the clue. It’s not our parents, spouse, best friend, teacher, mentor, or a best-selling self-help book author or a world-renowned happiness expert who knows. It is us. Not just in work, but in life, for we cannot be partially happy in work when we are not happy in life, or vice versa. Each of us is the expert we need to guide us in making ourselves happy, joyful, and fulfilled in life; each of us has a different definition of happiness and success that would work for us, but may not be someone else’s cup of tea.

From the time when I was not even conscious of taking my own happiness into account, to when I became aware of my birthright to find joy and fulfillment in life, whether I noticed them or not, countless undercurrents were shifting and swirling beneath the surface before they culminated in some significant milestone event or realization. All of a sudden, for instance, things would click and I would gain some new insight which propelled me to leap forward; or, I would make a decision with clarity and conviction on something which I had been mulling over for some time; or, to my own surprise, I would say something that is undoubtedly too true and timeless for me to not act on it.

When we make a significant change, or experience true transformation, there is no one point in time we can put our finger on and say, “That was the moment!” My experience is that change and transformation happen more like waves, ripples, and spirals. It is not clear when or where it began or ended, or how many different iterations passed before it manifested externally.

I have learned to cultivate faith with any change or transformation I desire for myself. Even if I do not see visible signs, or reach external recognition, to show that I am making progress, I now trust that the process works. My job is to show up every day, the best way I know how that day, by remembering to focus on what I desire to create, make, and build to bring joy and fulfillment to myself first and foremost!

If I am unable make myself happy, how can I bring peace and prosperity to the world?

Today is the sixth monthiversary since the beginning of our Soul Play Family 365 Experiment. I feel so blessed to have had this time with Jung when we could become re-acquainted with our true selves and to be able to grow together as true partners in marriage. We are much clearer now than we were six months ago regarding who we are about as individuals, how we want to live as a couple, and what kind of family we want to be.

Back when I was trying to “figure out what to do with my life,” I spent a lot of time trying to “figure out” what I “should do” and to build business plans and/or prepare for all sorts of different careers. Today, I realized that I no longer need all that. I have finally reached a point where I am beginning to know in a deeper sense, who I am and what I want to create in life. There is nothing for me to “figure out” anymore. When I am presented with ideas and opportunities, or when I have ideas of my own, I quickly know whether they will support who I am or not. I know where to put my energy, and just as importantly, when to say, “No.”

I also see the folly in my previous approach of “figuring things out.” It came to me today when Jung and I were talking as we walked up to S and J’s school to bring them home:

Before, I was building things based on what I already knew. The results were uninspired and disconnected from my true self.
Now I am building in a way that allows space for what I don’t know. This keeps me in touch with my inspiration and allows me to create something that is a unique expression of who I am.

When I look back at our goal to “create work which feeds both our souls and our family,” I feel that we are right on track! I can’t wait to see what the next six months have in store for us and what we create!

A misty rain accompanied Charles and my trail walk this morning. These days, whenever we go for walks in light rain or under a cloudy sky that threatens a rain shower, we remember to thank Saint of Travellers, whoever that may be, after we complete our walk. The idea is to give gratitude for not getting completely rained on, in acknowledgment of our benefactor.

We have found this practice useful because it nudges us to be aware of the bountiful treasures that exist all around us, and to express our heartfelt gratitude to a particular recipient. It also engages us to dance with Life. In lieu of receiving Life’s blessings passively, we choose to acknowledge such blessings bestowed upon us with a bow of gratitude. And gratitude begets abundance!

I noticed that the leaves looked greener and fresh in the misty rain. Perhaps that explains why the supermarkets use timed mist-sprinklers over the vegetable section! I kept marveling at how much the trails look different, not only from a week or two ago, but also each day as the spring greens seem to grow bigger, darker, and more numerous. It is not unlike little babies. For the first year or so, babies grow so fast that they look bigger and taller every day.

A maple tree behind our house only had bare branches in the beginning of this month. I spotted tiny red “eyes” on the branches a couple weeks ago, and I was delighted to see teeny tiny pointy bundles sometime last week. But this morning I noticed how large the leaves have grown! They are already large enough to cover our living room windows, and I can see them peeking around the corner from our kitchen window. This kind of magic is all around us every day because nature does not stop nor stand still.

Nor do we. I feel that the vibrant spring waking up from the sleepy winter is especially poignant for me this year. This external landscape reflects my internal journey, and it firmly reminds me to stay in the flow of Life’s mystery. Changes are happening all the time. Constant change is one of the Laws of Nature. Nothing stays the same. We can see the changes in nature more prominently in the springtime, and the changes in human growth are more pronounced when we are infants and little children. However, all of us, change and age every day as does nature.

Some changes are visible, and some are invisible at any given moment. Invisible changes may happen consciously or unconsciously, but they often surface as visible changes. When changes are made with our consciousness and creativity, they can transform us and those around us.

Eight years ago today, on April 26, 2004, I joined Microsoft as one of their corporate in-house attorneys.

Six months ago today, on October 26, 2011, I left Microsoft as Director of Global Diversity and Inclusion, a position I had held from May 16, 2011.

Today, on April 26, 2012, I am neither an attorney or a corporate employee, but I know, love, and enjoy myself, my life, and what I am about, far better than I did eight years ago, or six months ago. I have found my anam cara, soul friend, in me, and my journey ahead beckons me with joy, adventure, and vitality. Most of all, I am blessed and grateful to know that I will not travel solo ever again.

“As you walk, look around, assess where you are, reflect on where you have been, and dream of where you are going. Every moment of the present contains the seeds of opportunity for change. Your life is an adventure. Live it fully.” ~ John Francis, author of Planet Walker

A friend of mine posted a link on Facebook to an article celebrating a recent Open Town Meeting in her town in Connecticut. It reminded me of my hometown in Massachusetts where my father moderated the Open Town Meetings for years and I grew up first watching the process in action (including the preparation for the meeting), and later participated myself when I became voting age. In high school I worked at the meetings, running around with a wireless microphone on a long pole, so that anyone who wanted to speak could be heard without having to walk all the way up to the stationary microphone at the front of the hall.

When I moved away from home and took up residence in other cities, I realized what a blessing to the town those meetings were. They provided a public forum where any resident could voice their opinion before the vote and the issue at hand could be discussed. They were also social events where townspeople could catch up with each other outside the hall while getting coffee or lunch. Town meetings made the town governance remarkably transparent. If anything had been overlooked in an item being voted on, somebody would call it out in the discussion. There was no guarantee that the majority of the town would vote your way, but at least you would have a chance to persuade your neighbors and maybe even to be persuaded yourself. At the very least, you would hear the opposing viewpoints and hopefully understand them, even if you didn’t agree.

Finally, town meetings underscored the fact that everyone’s vote had equal weight in our town and everyone had an equal responsibility for making sure that the town was being managed for the good of all. Only small decisions were abdicated to our elected officials (the “Board of Selectmen”). The larger decisions that effected our destiny as a town were voted on directly by We the People.

There are some schools which are run in a similar way. The Waring School where I spent my last two years of High School began each day, as I recall, with a school meeting where there would be announcements, letters read from recent alumni or students traveling abroad, and where concerns could be raised and discussed. So-called “democratic schools” go one step further and adopt meeting systems similar to the Open Town Meeting where each member of the school (whether they be an adult or a child) is allowed to voice their opinion of items of school governance and then vote, with each member getting one vote regardless of “position.”

Schools modeled after the Sudbury Valley School, which was established nearly 44 years ago in Massachusetts, even have a “Judicial Committee” which enforces the school rules. The committee is made up of a diverse selection of school members, both adults and children, and they hear both sides of a complaint, pass judgement, and determine the consequences, if necessary. One of the many benefits of the School Meeting and the Judicial Committee is that students and staff alike learn that they are responsible for themselves and the impact of their behavior on the community. On the other hand, in Jung’s and my experience, when there is a “Head of School” who holds the reigns, the other community members seem to abdicate much of their responsibility for the health of the community to him or her. Students, parents and even teachers wait to be told what to do, rather than engage their own awareness and initiative.

As a final, related story, yesterday I read about the “Handbook for New Employees” for Valve Software as well as a blog post entitled, “Valve: How I Got Here, What It’s Like, and What I’m Doing.” I learned about a 300-employee, 16-year-old growing and thriving company where there is no organizational chart. There are the founders, and there is everyone else. There are teams who collaborate, but there is no requirement to join or remain with any given team. Employees work on whatever projects they want to. It also appears that instead of having a few managers choosing which projects move forward and which don’t, the projects select themselves by which ones have garnered the most support among the employees. The employees “vote with their desks” as for which projects receive the most attention, and ultimately go to market.

In addition, employees are expected to pay attention to their physical and mental health as well as their work/life balance. Working overtime is discouraged. As is written in the manual:

“While people occasionally choose to push themselves to work some extra hours at times when something big is going out the door, for the most part working overtime for extended periods indicates a fundamental failure in planning or communication. If this happens at Valve, it’s a sign that something needs to be reevaluated and corrected.”

This also means that each employee is much more responsible for their own success and happiness and can’t point fingers at their boss or “the management” for getting in the way of their project or their career. For Jung and me, this is exactly the kind of life we’re trying to live: one where we take responsibility for our own choices.

To me, one thing that these three institutions of town, school, and work have in common is that they are all flat. There is the barest minimum of official hierarchy, if any at all. Responsibility for oneself and one’s community is put squarely on the individuals and I believe this helps everybody to live with more integrity. What I love even more about “living flat,” however, is the way in which it naturally pulls communities together. Yes, when I was growing up in my hometown I heard plenty of stories of fights and feuds which began at, or were inflamed by what happened at, Town Meeting. That said, I prefer that over the indifference which I have felt more strongly everywhere else I have lived.

There seems to be something about electing a Representative, or having a Head of School, or working under a chain of Managers, that isolates us from our community. In particular, we don’t feel the problems that may arise in our community as keenly if they don’t affect our child, our job, or our street. We become blind to the ways in which what we do affects our entire community, and to how we are being impacted by what is going on in another part of the town, school, or company.

If you think living flat is impractical, I would point to how long New England Town Meetings, the Sudbury Valley School and even Valve Software have been successfully utilizing their flat structures and how the communities thrive in all three. None of these are perfect solutions, but I believe they are a huge improvement over the more prevalent hierarchical structures.

Besides, Jung and I don’t believe in “perfection,” but we certainly believe that living in community with responsibility and integrity creates more joy! And for us, joy is what it’s all about!

I finished reading the book Making Good today.

As I wrote previously, I am inspired by the authors and many others whose stories are included in the book, described as “Rebuilders:”

“Empathy is different from sympathy or pity, feelings that preserve an uninvolved distance. Empathy connects us to the realities of others, makes us feel their emotions and experiences as we feel our own, and it’s what makes us as humans feel that desire to do something, to not just passively stand by when there is injustice, or join in when there is hope. We are actually hardwired to feel this way, to feel compassion and togetherness when someone else is in trouble, to feel implicated in their well-being.

“All across the world, people are waking up to this feeling. It’s almost as if a global alarm has gone off, calling us collectively into action in a way that feels brand new. And with the added urgency we all feel to find paying work, many people are driving positive change through business, converting possibility into reality, and discovering lives that are more fun, more prosperous, and more meaningful. The people channeling these feelings into lifelong careers are the architects of our future. We’ve come to think of them as Rebuilders.”

As I read Charles’ post for today entitled, “Living Flat,” I wondered about a certain common thread weaving all three examples of institutions: New England Town Meetings, the Sudbury Valley School, and Valve Software. In addition to what Charles characterized as “flat” in the sense that there exists “the barest minimum of official hierarchy,” could another alchemical glue that transforms these institutions into thriving communities be empathy?

Empathy comes from caring, and genuine caring comes from the heart. I suspect that the citizens participating in New England Town Meetings, the Sudbury Valley School students, staff, and parents, and the employees of Valve Software, all have a high empathy quotient for caring about where they live, learn, and work.

And I get the sense that, for them, living, learning, and working all happen dynamically through community dialogues; and that such dialogues (unlike hierarchical commands) help them strengthen their sense of belonging, ownership, and responsibility for not only individual well-being, but also for the community’s prosperity. I can see that each individual in such communities believe that their happiness is tied to their community’s well-being.

As Charles points out, these may not be perfect communities, but they seem to have better odds at “discovering lives that are more fun, more prosperous, and more meaningful.”

Most of us would not object to “discovering lives that are more fun, more prosperous, and more meaningful.” Some may be already enjoying fun, prosperous and meaningful lives while making the money they need to live well. Others may be looking for ways to join the Rebuilders, but have not found their way into answering the three touchstone questions that the authors of Making Good ask:

• How will I make money? 
• What does doing good mean to me? 
• How do I want to spend my time?

These are all personal questions to be considered by each individual. As such, the book does not give one-size-fits-all answers to these questions; however, the authors’ perspective, insight, and wisdom gained from their own experiences and other Rebuilders whom they interviewed for this book provide rich resources for anyone who is seeking a path to have comfort and control over their time without compromising their values — to explore, experiment with, and experience the path of a Rebuilder.

Among many memorable quotes and passages, the following excerpt from the section on, “What does doing good mean to you?” resonated most brilliantly with me and served as steadfast encouragement for me to keep moving forward on my path:

“Doing good doesn’t have to be about working for a non-profit, it doesn’t have to be about feeding hungry people in the Third World — it can be about finding purpose in helping people each day live their life better. Everyone has to make a unique contribution, a passion that fits with the life you want, the family and friends you have, and the world that you want to create. It also doesn’t usually mean you need to start up your own thing. We need Rebuilders in every level of the transformation of our society.”

May the Force be with all Rebuilders!

“One thing [Jung and I] talked about on the walk was how I needed to re-integrate meditation into my daily routine as a way to be more conscious about where I am spending my energy each day.”

I laughed to myself when I read these words today. I wrote them over 140 days ago and yet I still don’t meditate regularly. Today, however, I was reminded that I would be much happier if I did.

Over the weekend when I was struggling with some decisions, Jung pointed me to a particular chapter in Making Good, the book she’s been reading lately. The chapter is titled, “Reflect,” and it has some advice on meditating, and in particular, meditating on questions we have about our lives. I finally made time to read the chapter today, and it inspired me to spend some time meditating on a number of questions and I was surprised by how many answers I received! My priorities came into much sharper focus very quickly with just a short meditation!

Another thing which came clear to me was that I need to be meditating more regularly. I almost felt a voice coming from somewhere within me that was like a concerned parent. It was saying, “You know, you could have saved yourself a lot of time and consternation if you had come to me sooner.” Those answers had been waiting for me for quite a long time, and I had been looking for them everywhere except where they were — within me.

I forget all too often, that I have the answers I need within me, but I need to stop, be quiet, and listen if I am to hear them.

One of the questions I asked myself today was, “What is the best way I can spend my energy this week?” The answer was loud and clear: “Take the time to listen and get back in touch with who you really are.” I think I’ll do just that.

During our morning walk today, I raised a question to my thought-partner and most trusted advisor, Charles:

“Wouldn’t it make all the more sense to allow ‘gifted’ children to direct their own learning?”

After all, most people agree without much dissention that Albert Einstein was a genius yet he didn’t like school and by some accounts his teachers were not too impressed with his learning abilities. But my question arose because of something more direct and immediate in my life: S and J’s school and our family’s experiences there.

As I wrote in a previous post, I had my own reservations about a school for gifted children to begin with, but Charles and I chose the school because of its putative educational philosophy: “children first, gifted second.” However, after having experienced this school for gifted children where S and J spent their first seven years of schooling, I have gained a much better understanding of not only S and J’s school in particular, but also of gifted children and private school education in general.

My question this morning was sparked by what I read about S and J’s new Head of School. When I researched him in Google, I found his welcome letter of sorts to visitors of his current school’s web site. When I read it, the following passage jumped out at me:

“Some may question why gifted students need their own distinct academic program. My own experience in working with high ability learners over the past three decades has clearly led me to understand that gifted students need a faster pace, deeper and richer content, and a peer group that shares their passion for learning. Without this, many gifted students will never reach their true potential.”

How interesting! This was what Charles and I suspected when we were looking into what kind of education would best suit our daughters as they reached pre-Kindergarten age, and what their school told us as well. We believed them. However, this statement by an educational expert based on his own experience does not match my own observation and learning of my children’s progress in their experience at a school for gifted children.

For one thing, although S and J, as well as their classmates have gone through the school application process to be identified as “gifted children,” at least by the admission standards used by their school, I did not find that they learn at the same rate, that they are interested in the same content or subject matter, or that they all share the same passion for learning.

Quite the contrary, I saw the same bullies and bullied at this school that may be found in any other public or private schools, and I saw children who were pressured to learn but did not love learning. S and J have frequently met opposition and ridicule from fellow students for using sophisticated words and the rich vocabulary which they have accumulated over the years from exercising their passion of reading and learning new words. Even at the beginning of the year they witnessed two boys being teased by bullies because they got 100% on their Spanish test.

I was fascinated when Charles responded to my outloud musing by saying, “It’s funny you ask that question.” And then he told me about a snippet of Billy Moyer’s interview in 1988 with Isaac Asimov, which he spotted when it came to his attention through Free Range Learning’s Facebook page:

Isaac Asimov: “Once we have computer outlets in every home, each of them hooked up to enormous libraries where anyone can ask any question and be given answers, be given reference materials, be something you’re interested in knowing, from an early age, however silly it might seem to someone else… that’s what YOU are interested in, and you can ask, and you can find out, and you… can do it in your own home, at your own speed, in your own direction, in your own time… Then, everyone would enjoy learning. Nowadays, what people call learning is forced on you, and everyone is forced to learn the same thing on the same day at the same speed in class, and everyone is different.”

Bill Moyers: “But what about the argument that machines, computers, dehumanize learning?”

Isaac Asimov: “As a matter of fact, it’s just the reverse. It seems to me that, through this machine, for the first time we’ll be able to have a one-to-one relationship between information source and information consumer.”

First of all, I was amazed that Isaac Asimov foresaw the Information Age almost a quarter century ago and told Bill Moyers what would actually happen just as it is happening today. These days anyone, including children, can use Internet search engines such as Google and Bing to ask any question and find answers. In fact, without being concerned about what others (including teachers, students, co-workers, family, etc.) may think of me if I asked a certain question, I can look up and get answers to anything, anytime, anywhere I want, literally at my fingertips.

But what fascinates me the most is what Isaac Asimov said about learning what YOU are interested in, in your own home (or wherever you are for that matter as long as there is a computer connected to the Internet), at your own speed, in your own direction, in your own time! What he envisioned is absolutely possible today. In fact, more than possible, it is happening today. For instance, when S and J do not understand a new word they come across in reading any material they choose, they look it up via an embedded software tool without the interruption that used to occur when Charles and I were learning at their age: we had to stop and look up new words in a paper dictionary!

S and J have been telling us, especially this year, that they are bored at school. Charles and I have noticed that they are not being challenged academically. Now I can clearly understand why they are bored. As Issac Asimov diagnosed and articulated nearly twenty-five years ago when he told Bill Moyers: “Nowadays, what people call learning is forced on you, and everyone is forced to learn the same thing on the same day at the same speed in class, and everyone is different.” I wouldn’t doubt that he was speaking from his own teaching experience as professor of biochemistry at Boston University.

That’s right. Gifted or not, every child is different, just as every adult is. We are all different, which means we all learn differently, too. We are interested in different things at different times in our lives. Yet, we force learning on our children to learn the same thing on the same day at the same speed in class. No wonder S and J tell us they are bored in school. Especially nowadays when we, as a society, have the abundant technical ability to allow learning to be enjoyable by all children.

What excuses do I or Charles have for not allowing our daughters to learn what they are interested in, where they want to learn, at their own speed, in their own direction, in their own time?

What would Issac Asimov say about our outdated mode of education if he were alive today?

Why should education be so expensive, competitive, and ineffective with such low rate of return (considering the number of years and financial resources we invest in education) in our post-industrial, Information Age?

Here I go again, and I remind myself of Rilke’s admonition:

“I beg you … to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms … Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

Today I started sketching out some themes for my first film score. Jung heard me working at the piano and later asked me about my process. After I described it for a little while she asked me, “Did you use your intuition?” I was surprised by the question and told her that of course I used my intuition. I always use my intuition when I compose. She told me that she asked me because, although I didn’t realize it, when I was describing my process I didn’t mention anything about my intuition — all I talked about was my reasoning.

I realized a couple things when I thought about her comment. First, it’s very difficult for me to discuss my intuitive process. By its very nature it just, sort of, happens. My reasoning mind says I want a melody that has this or that kind of feel and has these or those characteristics and then hands the work order to my intuition which spools out a melody. Or, my intuition might get stuck; in which case, it calls the reasoning mind over to analyze the problem. My reasoning mind then hands its conclusions back to my intuition, which then gets back to work.

That’s the best I can describe the process, but in practice it’s much more fluid. My reasoning mind and my intuition work together seamlessly, communicating in the language of music theory.

Music theory usually scares the pants off of music students — I never liked it before — but now I see it in a different light. Music theory is to music like science is to nature. Music and nature can both be appreciated without understanding how they work, but somehow knowing how they work makes them all the more miraculous to me. Music theory and science are also tools which can help people to understand good, proven methods for creating what they envision, as well as to understand why they may be having trouble creating what they envision.

Before I studied music theory, composition was much more like taking shots in the dark. Eventually I would come up with something I liked, or close enough (if I had run out of patience), but it was a tedious trial-and-error process — with more error than I was happy with. Now composition has become much more fun with the help of my reasoning mind to guide the process. Music theory enables me to learn and grow as an artist by studying other compositions as well as (in partnership with my intuition) to discover new expressions in music. Music theory, which was once such an albatross around my neck, is now my laboratory and playground!

All that said, like I told Jung this morning, my intuition is still as indispensable to me as ever. Sometimes when I am composing, I have allowed my reasoning mind to take the lead. But on its own, my reasoning mind creates boring, formulaic music. It is my intuition which allows me to push beyond what I have learned from others and create that which has not existed before.

So for me, much like what I wrote about yesterday, neither my reasoning mind, nor my intuition can be more important than the other — I require them both to create my music, and composing is easiest and most joyful when my reason and my intuition work together in a synergistic, creative partnership.

“It’s not enough for a school to have a bullying policy and enforce it. The bottom line is that every child must feel welcome at school, and every adult has to work to make school a safe place for every child.” ~ Teaching Tolerance

S and J’s new Head of School, who will start this fall for the academic year 2012-2013, was visiting the school today. As Charles and I were dropping off our daughters, we spotted him in the school parking lot where parents drop off their children in the morning. We saw a man dressed in a suit and tie standing in the spot which the outgoing Head of School frequently occupies. He had one hand in his trouser pocket and the other on the car door to help children get out of their parents’ vehicles as a long line of cars pulled up to the drop-off spot.

I guessed (correctly) who he was because we received an email from the school last week, announcing that new Head of school would be visiting today. The school requested that every student dress in his/her favorite Pacific Northwest attire to give him a warm welcome.

Notwithstanding the beautiful, warm spring weather, bright blue sky and sun shining down this morning, S and J both decided to wear rain jackets as their “favorite” Pacific Northwest attire.

Coincidentally, the above quote came through my Facebook news feed today from “Teaching Tolerance” — a non-profit organization founded in 1991 by the Southern Poverty Law Center with a mission “[t]o promote an appreciation for diversity in schools by reducing prejudice, improving intergroup relations and supporting equitable experiences for our nation’s children.”

The message in Teaching Tolerance’s statement today is exactly what Charles and I tried to convey to S and J’s school administration this school year as our daughters were targeted by the bullies in their class. To my and Charles’ consternation, some parents at the time even expressed that children who were being bullied needed to toughen up because they would encounter bullies in the “real” world; therefore, they might as well learn how to be bullied in school!

It pains me to know that as a civil society, we are not sufficiently protecting vulnerable children in our schools from bullies. Children need both nurturing and protection just as any other young creatures do. Bullies as well as the bullied need help from adults. Every adult can do something, at least one thing, to make school a safe place. We may not be able to end hunger and poverty, global warming, senseless wars, and the myriad other complex problems that plague our world today which are so widespread and complex that remedies and resolutions are often out of our control — e.g. international organizations’ outreach, governmental aid, foreign sovereignty, financial resources, national security, etc.

But what stops us from creating a safe and welcome environment for every child in school?

Is it truly too much to ask every adult (e.g., parent, teacher, school administrator, staff, etc.) to work to make school a safe place for every child?

If it is a dream, it is a dream well worth everyone’s effort to make it come true. I cannot think of anything more precious to protect than every child’s safety and anything more cruel to forbear than any child’s death — be it physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual. We live in the 21st century. We may not be able to do much to save children from war, hunger, or poverty halfway across the globe, but what stops us from making school a safe place for every child?

The new Head of School at our daughters’ school would benefit greatly by heeding Teaching Tolerance’s counsel above. Although we will not return to this school community in the fall, we hope that every adult at the school will voluntarily take on his/her responsibility to work to make the school a safe place for every child there. Charles and I will certainly take on our responsibilities with our girls’ new school.

Even after everything I’ve learned and written about listening to my own heart, I am still often swayed by many things, such as:

• others’ suggestions,
• what I think someone else might do, and
• advice I read.

It’s not that I think shutting myself off from the world is what I need to do, but I still need to remind myself daily that when it comes time to answer a question I have, first make whatever consultations I want to make, and then sit, be quiet, and let the answer arise.

For most of my life, I tried to “reason it out,” but it usually fails me. I think myself into knots.

Whether the decision is as small as deciding between having a garage sale versus donating our old things to Goodwill, or as large as considering business opportunities, I’ve learned the hard way that when I feel myself thinking this way and that, I need to stop, meditate on the question, and then move on, allowing my reason and intuition to work together in the background. The answer will come in its time.

Beautiful Sunday
Reading Pride and Prejudice
Blessed with Jane Austen!

Today felt like the beginning of summer here in Seattle. Mind you, that’s a “Seattle summer” meaning it was still only around 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but with the sun shining, we couldn’t not go out for a walk and have a picnic lunch in the park!

These days when we walk “as a family” we actually walk in pairs: one daughter with one parent. When S and J were younger they were very fastidious about making sure that they switched evenly between parents each time we had a “date” together, but these days, the alternating is more fluid. It feels even, but nobody is “keeping score.” When S and J were younger, the “dates” also tended to be either at an establishment of some kind: a bookstore or craft store, or it would be at home centered around a crafting activity. These were great opportunities to have quality one-on-one time, and lots of fun, but they had to be planned and scheduled in.

These days, our dates are more spontaneous, and they’re almost always walks — either walking home from school in pairs, or a weekend walk like today. There’s so much to talk about that we don’t need any external activity or place to go.

I remember how happy I was when our daughters first learned to talk — when I no longer needed to guess what they wanted like I had to do when all they could do was cry. I was so grateful that they could express their needs to me in words! Then, I remember when they began to express opinions and we could discuss things together. That was another watershed in our conversations together.

I am so grateful that our daughters love to talk with us. It doesn’t matter what the topic is — I feel blessed by their attention and I hope they know how much I love being with them. They still hold my hand sometimes when we walk, and I know that may not last, but I hope they will always talk with me and know that no matter what it is, I am not only willing, but eager to listen.

I am eagerly continuing with the book, Making Good which I only recently started reading, as I wrote yesterday. The more I read, the more I am amazed! The authors, Billy Parish and Dev Aujla, who I think are in their 30s, are wise beyond their years, and the book is filled with timeless truth, useful insight, and practical guidance, for any reader seeking work that combines meaning, money and community, no matter how old the reader is!

Above all, what I find most incredible is that the stories and voices of these authors track my own journey so closely. It is as if they know me and my life experiences that led me to where I am today, and that continue to lead me forward. For instance, the following passage seems to be lifted directly out of my own life:

“The comforts of familiarity aren’t always the best indication of whether we are doing the right thing. Often, they prevent us from opening up to good change. The comfort we find in familiarity can make it difficult to make space in our routines, to take that leap into a new career or a trip abroad. The familiarity of a steady paycheck can make it difficult to take the risk necessary to start a new venture.”

It is so true that “[t]he familiarity of a steady paycheck” made it difficult for me for so many years to take the risk necessary to course-correct in mid-stream. Such difficulty was, in my case, compounded by the fact that I was the sole provider for my family. However, all my effort to ignore or deny my longing to open up to good change by hiding in “the familiarity of a steady paycheck” was proven futile in the end. As if they knew my own story, the authors call this out in the book:

“But what are we giving up when we prioritize comfort in our decision making? Baby Boomers have given us thousands of examples of what happens when we settle for the safety of stasis rather than risking change. In fact, most of us probably don’t have to look farther than our homes or schools to find stories from parents or mentors who have hit a crisis point where they wish they’d chosen a path that inspired them from the beginning.”

Ain’t that the truth! I am one of those “thousands of examples … who have hit a crisis point where they wish they’d chosen a path that inspired them from the beginning.”

Ironically enough, the book also includes the following passage:

“It has become something of a joke with a number of our high-achieving friends that whenever they go home to speak with their parents, they will be asked: “Have you given any thought to law school?” No matter how successful they are, the classic career narrative is something our parents’ generation understands well.”

I wish I could tell my story to the college graduates and their parents who ask their high-achieving, successful children: “Have you given any thought to law school?” I would tell the parents that “the classic career narrative” does not work any longer in our world, unless it truly happens to coincide with one’s passion.

Look at the facts and data: in a recent ABA [(American Bar Association)]Journal cover story entitled, “The Law School Bubble: How Long Will It Last if Law Grads Can’t Pay Bills?,” it is reported that:

“The influx of so many law school graduates—44,258 in 2010 alone, according to the ABA—into a declining job market creates serious repercussions that will reverberate for decades to come.”

Unless law is one’s passion and/or it can be used to serve one’s purpose in life, there is no point in going to law school. If it is motivated by anything else, such as social status, money, or prestige, law school will not be a “good bet” (although I would hate to imagine anyone gambling with her life in choosing a career in this crude manner). The ABAJournal article I referenced above contains many details in support of my career advice. For that matter, I think the same advice would work for medical profession as well.

I am not a career counselor; however, I feel I am qualified to give my perspective because I have learned and earned my qualification from the best school on earth: The School of Life. As I mentioned above, I am one of the examples of people who have hit a crisis point where they wish they’d chosen a path that inspired them from the beginning.

More than 25 years ago, I wish I had honored and listened to my own inner voice to choose a path that inspired me. I wanted to go to Teachers College, Columbia University; however, my mother did not think it was a good idea. She was a teacher herself, and she did not think the teaching profession was for me. My mother was the voice of the over-culture, but I did not recognize it at the time. She wanted me to marry a professional, and I wanted to prove that I did not have to marry a professional for social status, money or prestige, if she thought any of those things could or would make me happy. I could be a professional myself. So I chose law school.

This is not a blame game. I do not blame my mother because ultimately it was I who chose the path to law school although I lacked a burning passion for law or a clear purpose for entering the legal profession. I did not have the courage of conviction that the authors of Making Good seem to have cultivated in their youth. Most of all, by the time I graduated from college, I had traveled so far from my own soul’s dwelling that I was estranged from my passion and purpose. My life shrank drastically to the level of finding the answer to “How will I make money?” when I did not have the courage to claim my birthright to love, serve, enjoy and prosper in life. I did not have the courage because I was so detached from my heart.

Notwithstanding everything though, I do not view my choice a mistake or failure. It is not because I want to justify or rationalize my career choice — justifying or rationalizing would not serve me in any genuine way in any event — but because I believe that we are all born to explore, experiment, experience and expand throughout our life journey. I believe that my primary purpose in life is to learn and understand, and as such there is no wrong choice or failure. Any path I take works — only in different ways from other paths which I did not choose.

So, although I did not receive a graduate degree from Teachers College, Columbia University, or the relevant professional experiences in education, I have learned through my own custom made courses and programs in The School of Life what I could not and would not have learned in any university in the world!

I have written a number of times, including yesterday, that it took me quite a while to rediscover my soul. Looking back, I see that it wasn’t the rediscovery itself which took me so much time. What took me so much time was my letting go of enough external expectations so that I could hear and see my soul clearly again.

It was as if I had to turn down the volume on all those voices around me — real and imagined — that were telling me who I should be, before I could find the knob which would turn up the volume on my soul. I wandered in an empty space for many years when I floated freely without external or internal guidance. It wasn’t easy. Having the new role of “dad” helped me a little — it gave some direction to my life — but I knew that there was a big part of me which was still lying dormant.

As unsettling and unfamiliar as that empty space was, I feel that the free-floating time was necessary. I needed to become comfortable with not relying on anyone’s guidance before I could begin to rely on my own. I lost a ton of weight — then gained it all back plus some. I dabbled in programming, gardening, photography and fiction writing. Eventually, I began to hear my soul respond to each of these things and I began to hear my soul’s guidance again as I once did, decades ago. My soul led me back to two passions of my youth: music and play, but this time I took up the creation of music and play not as others would have me do, but as I would do, as an expression of who I am.

If you are on a similar road, do not despair the long, desert stretch. Cherish the silence and the horizon that circles you from miles away. It may be that, like me, you must first learn to not hear and not see anything, before you can hear and see your soul more clearly than ever before.