Fostering An Integral Vision For The World

Wherever You Go, There You Are

This week, someone asked me how meditation ties in with the Enneagram. Great question! So, I decided to devote this column to answering that question.

Meditation ties in so well with self-awareness and Enneagram because of its focus is on mindfulness. Welcome to your life! Time to wake up, we learn. If we live with some awareness, we are not doomed to bumble around making the same mistakes again and again (or at least if we do, we know what the heck our underlying motivation is so we can pick ourselves up, brush ourselves off and learn something!).

If we learn our Enneagram trance-the habitual type-specific reactions we repeat with regularity-imagine being able to use the power of the mindful awareness we learn in meditation as we function in our daily lives. We can actually watch ourselves when we shift on autopilot and catch ourselves “doing it again!”

That lovely breath, which calms and relaxes, can be the grounding force that reminds us to slow down and choose our response. So, if you are a:

Perfectionist, One, you can catch your comparing mind habitually comparing things against how perfect they should be against those pesky internal standards of correctness.

Giver, Two, you can catch your outwardly focused mind tuning into the emotional fluctuations of chosen others, wishing for their approval while altering yourself to please them.

Performer, Three, you can catch your mind instantly moving to your habitual identification with achievement and performance, suspending feelings until the job is done, while believing that you and your image are one in the same.

Romantic, Four, you can catch your mind amplifying the missing positives in your life and idealizing the distant and unavailable, while becoming impatient with “ordinary” feelings.

Observer, Five, you can catch your mind withdrawing from the outside world and detaching from feelings in order to maintain privacy and predictability in order to avoid emotional pain.

Loyal Skeptic, Six, you can catch your doubting mind scanning the environment for ulterior motives, untrustworthy people and worst case scenarios.

Epicure, Seven, you can catch your monkey mind jumping from one pleasant option to another, talking, planning and intellectualizing while avoiding a single course of action, in order to avoid boredom and pain.

Protector, Eight, you can catch your all-or nothing style mind focusing on intense experience and control of people, space, possessions while denying your own vulnerability.

Mediator, Nine, you can catch your mind “falling asleep” to your own position, paying attention to others’ positions, getting caught in comfortable, familiar habits, while containing your own physical energy, anger, and life force.

Jon Kabat-Zinn writes in, “Wherever You Go, There You Are,”

“To allow ourselves to be truly in touch with where we already are, no matter where that is, we have got to pause in our experience long enough to let the present moment sink in; long enough to actually feel the present moment, to see it in its fullness, to hold it in awareness and thereby come to know and understand it better. Only then can we accept the truth of this moment of our life, learn from it, and move on. Instead, it often seems as if we are preoccupied with the past, with what has already happened, or with a future that hasn’t arrived yet.

We look for someplace else to stand, where we hope things will be better, happier, more the way we want them to be, or the way they used to be. Most of the time we are only partially aware of this inner attention, if we are aware of it at all.

What is more, we are also partially aware at best of exactly what we are doing in and with our lives, and the effect our actions and, more subtly, our thoughts have on what we see and don’t see, what we do and don’t do.

Meditation may help us see that this path we call our life has direction; that it is always unfolding, moment by moment; and that what happens now, in this moment, influences what happens next.”

So, welcome to the strikingly simple path back to yourself. You are the only one who can authentically walk it. No longer will you let your days, months and years go by unnoticed, unused and unappreciated because you know that what is unconscious will just color the next moment. Open your eyes. As Kabat-Zinn writes “It’s your life that is unfolding. Wherever you go, there you are.”

Just beginning to learn the Enneagram and meditation? Here are some easy starter steps:

1. Watch your habit of mind. When you walk into an unfamiliar situation, what is your instinctive mindset? Check the above Enneastyles and see if any resonate for you. If you are unsure, try one that seems like you for a few days and see if it “fits you.”
2. Try NOT doing your habitual reactions. If you are a One, for example, try not to compare yourself or anyone else to a perfect (and impossible) standard. If you are a Nine, try to talk for a moment about yourself in a conversation. Then do it a little longer. What feelings, thoughts and sensations surface?
3. Sit for 5-10 minutes and go limp. Inhale deeply, tense, then relax your muscles. Let your mind roam freely. Watch where it goes and listen to what it say, patiently, non-judgmentally. If nothing else, you may feel relaxed and renewed afterwards. Or, you may find that you would rather have a root canal then sit silently for ANY amount of time! You’re not alone.

   This powerful source of liberation from stress is one that many initially avoid. It just takes a little practice. Yet, this discomfort with quiet time can also be a clue to understanding your type preoccupations. Computer solitaire is a lot more desirable than sitting with a lot of unprocessed emotional gunk-who needs it, you may ask? You.

I promise-with a little time, some discipline and some focused attention, you will find yourself living the life you are called to live.

Watching the Monkey Mind

Six years I’ve been meditating and I have mornings like this: I sit in my chair. I squirm. I notice that my feet are cold and I go grab a blanket. There. That’s better. Breathe deeply. Aaah, that feels so good. So relaxing. I’m kind of hungry. Should I go grab a bowl of cereal first? I don’t want to get the shakes. I hate the shakes. But if I go downstairs, I will get distracted.

Okay, I can get through the meditation without eating first. Okay. Breathe. Pay attention to the body as it is always in the present. My sinuses feel kind of clogged this morning. Usually a good meditation helps. I wish Chris would meditate-it would really help with her chronic sinus infections. I wonder how she is doing these days. Maybe I should call her for a get together. Should we invite the kids or just spend time alone? Did Laura thank her for the Valentine she sent? I wonder if Laura got my Valentine package. Maybe she didn’t go to her mailbox because she had a bunch of tests. I wonder how she did on her test. I’ll e-mail her today.

In that brief ten seconds, my mind bounces like a monkey swinging from branch to branch. I come back to the breath and watch it on the inhale as it moves like a wave comes to the shore. I exhale and watch it move out into the endless expanse just like a wave that returns to the sea. Calm. Still. Timeless.

These days, I rarely attempt to explain my reasons for meditating. When I first began, I wanted to tell everyone about this miracle cure for that which ales you. I feel better, I would say. My visits to the doctor are almost nil, I would insist. I am less stressed. My family likes me better! The dog likes me better! Yet, in that telling, I was selling, and meditation is all about letting go and letting it be. The more I meditated, the less I felt the old need to control and push.

Why is meditation so compelling? Because it is not about squashing or extinguishing unpleasant thoughts. It is about sitting still long enough to know that you are even having them. They are no longer wild, unmanageable runaways. And right there, when you really acknowledge them, you have a choice. You can let them take over, becoming bigger and more powerful while you become more anxiety ridden and reactive.

OR, you can pay close attention to the nature of them and then consciously let them go and return to your breath. After all, the breath is the only thing that is now. You can’t breathe yesterday’s breath or tomorrow’s breath. This is it. This is real. You’ll be surprised.

Just as thoughts come and go, stress comes and goes, laughter comes and goes, anger comes and goes, and pleasure comes and goes. Yet, with meditation/mindful awareness, they come and go with a deeper level of awareness so they don’t possess such a tenacious hold on us. They are transitory! With that awareness, we act less on autopilot and more with clear and focused intention. Do you really remember what ticked you off in that moment last fall? It’s over. Now that you know this, you can mindfully choose your actions. They no longer choose you. This is meditation.

Michelle Burford, an initially reluctant meditator writes in Oprah, “You don’t have to Windex your big mess the minute you splatter it. Just get up and step to the right. Stand there. Notice how your feet feel on the ground. Notice that you’re still above ground. Take that news in. Or resist it and settle into your misery, then notice that’s what you’re doing. Decide you won’t judge yourself for judging yourself. Judge yourself some more, then cut it out again. Breathe in, breathe out.” When stressful thoughts come in, watch them, thank them for their opinion, and then let them go.

After meditating for awhile, I noticed something else. I actually began to taste my dinner before the whole thing was gone. I started to notice that the moon on my morning and evening walks moves across the sky on a very predictable path. The house that I pass on my daily drive has a purple door. Honest. I had never noticed. Too busy getting from Point A to Point B. And, there are two morning doves who live on my porch arbor. I wonder how long they have lived there.

Now, for those who say, “I can’t do it,” I say three things. One, no meditation is a bad meditation. Just doing it each day begins to open you up to new insights. It might be as simple as whenever you sit still, you notice that your neck is always stiff. Or that your breath is short and shallow.

Second, if you play tennis for the very first time, you know you aren’t going to be Martina the first time out. Be patient with yourself. It just takes some practice.

Third, if the sitting is killing you, start with a walking meditation. Begin to notice your legs. Can you feel them? How are the feet? Notice your breath when you walk. See if it has its own kind of rhythm. Take in the crisp air and notice the birds who are returning to their northern homes.

You can do this. I promise. They are teaching it to preschoolers these days because they notice the kids pay better attention. A lovely idea.

I still eat fast. I still snap at my kids and get mad at the dog. And, I still am frustrated by people who bellow into their cell phones at Starbucks when I am drinking a latte. The difference is this: I notice my judgments and patterns of thought. I catch myself jamming in a cookie and actually try to slow down and taste it. I am faster on the uptake. It’s empowering and humbling all at the same time. There is so much to take in. There is so much I missed as I rushed through my life.

I can actually fully live this life that I am living. The monkey in my mind moves a bit more slowly these days. I breathe the same air as those who I love and those whom I have never met. As the breath comes and goes, I am reminded of the ever changing nature of things. And right in between those breaths, I discover time and space for a lovely moment of gratitude.

Tell Me Your Story

I sit in an ethics class and we examine an ethical dilemma in the daily newspaper. We discuss the shooting of an African American male by a New York City police officer. I am vocal in my defense of the police officer, citing the challenges of facing fearful, frightening situations day after day. I put myself in his shoes and share my views from his perspective.

After I finish, an African American student turns around and speaks in a soft spoken voice. I listen, as he shares his story. It is a story not unlike the teens who come through my door daily… sports, activities, school, and friends. Yet, his story veers dramatically when he speaks the words his mother tells him. “When you get pulled over by the police, be respectful and don’t give him any reason at all to arrest you.”

“When.” Not “if.” The matter of fact way she uses the word, “when” moves me to the core. I don’t raise my son with the expectation that he WILL be pulled over. It’s an “if.” This young man continues to state the countless times he has been detained and questioned by the police. His tone is matter of fact, yet resigned. A middle aged African American woman begins to share her story of a businessman husband who is regularly pulled from the security line at the airport for questioning (these were pre 9/11 days). She says he is often embarrassed as he travels with white co-workers who witness this recurrent act.

I do some research and learn this: Just as I have a list of life lessons I teach my children, African American mothers have their own list. At the top of this list is the imperative of learning how to act when talking to a police officer. They know it will happen again and again. And again.

Your reactions to the above story will be shaped by your own story. It will be shaped by your life experience, the friends in your inner circle, your neighborhood, your income, your profession, the people whom you have met, the ideology of your parents and friends, the newspapers and books you read, your personality type, and your religious and/or spiritual faith. The gifts and the wounds you carry flavor your reactions. Your ability to touch the most heartfelt place of your own story, add another dimension.

I cannot speak of the African American experience because I am a white woman. I cannot speak of the journey of cancer for I have never sat in a chair and heard a doctor give me a diagnosis that would profoundly alter my life. Neither can I understand the experience of an Afghan woman living under the burkah nor that of the Iraqi mother who lives in fear for her childrens’ lives and future. I have not lived the life of a soldier nor have I had to shoot a gun to save my life or the lives of others. I have not lived a life scarred by war, poverty and hopelessness nor have I endured the pain of abuse or addiction. These are not my stories. I have my own.

I do have a sort of fellowship with those who have loved and lost someone to cancer. I know the grief of losing a family member too young and the abounding gratefulness for friends who help heal an aching heart. I have watched a husband care for a father with Parkinson’s disease so my attention heightens whenever I hear of someone walking that journey. I understand the fear of a radical life change and embarking on a new career path. I know the risk and loneliness of taking an unpopular stance and holding ground when my foundations begin to shake and respected leaders reveal their human flaws.

These are just some of my stories. What are yours? For whom do you feel an uncommon empathy? Chances are, the compassion is rooted in your story. Have you noticed how your judgments soften when you or someone you love has walked the walk of anything from depression to addiction to homosexuality to financial loss to weight gain to divorce?

In my coaching practice and the classes I teach, I notice that those who face the truth of their own story are remarkably open to others. Their judgments soften and they listen more deeply. They know that just as our lives are full of moments infused with joy and grace, there are also moments of disappointment and sorrow.

Our capacity for compassion is in direct proportion to our ability to own our story, touch our own truth and forgive ourselves and those who have hurt us. It is rooted in the awareness that I can never fully understand your story for I have not walked in your shoes. Yet, I can listen with an open mind and an open heart.

Compassion is not pity nor is it a call to “victimhood.” It simply says, “If I were born in another time or another place with a different face from a different mother, my story might be more like yours.” We walk together in compassion because your story is ultimately my story. We connect in the desire for love, appreciation, and simple kindness.

Compassion is not a call to moral relativism-challenging decisions must be made. My ethics professor encouraged us to hold opposing views and contradictions in a tenuous balance. Then, he taught us to present a coherent position and a workable solution. Yet, the most valuable insight he gave us was the moral imperative to never cease listening to others. He taught us to have the courage to change our minds when necessary. He led by example when he resisted demonizing those whose worldview was unlike his.

He taught me to listen in a whole new way. Resist assuming a righteous, superior stance. Maintain a willingness to hear another perspective especially when it conflicts with one I defend. Pay close attention the marginalized in the community, the workplace and the world-those with less power have a particularly difficult time getting their story to be heard.

The power of the story is unparalleled. The power of compassion lies at the core of every religious and wisdom tradition. We live in a time of war, uncertainty and political and cultural divisiveness. The times call us to understand our own story-its gifts and limitations and surrender to the realization that others have an equally compelling story to tell. Listen and know you are the mustard seed who can transform the world.

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Books and movies have the power to tell unheard stories that move us deeply. I share some of my recent favorites-perhaps you can spend an afternoon during the holiday season and step into an unknown world:

Books that Widened My Perspective:

Fiction:

Reading Lolita in Teheran by Azar Nafisi
Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien
The Life of Pi by Yann Martel
Falling Leaves by Adeline Yen Mah
My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult
Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
Traveling Mercies Anne Lamott
Ishmael by Daniel Quinn
The Old Turtle by Douglas Wood (Children’s book)
The Old Turtle and the Broken Truth by Douglas Wood (Children’s book)

Non-Fiction:

Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd
Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser
The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris
The Power of Personal Storytelling: Spinning Tales to Connect with Others by Jack Maguire
Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankel
Night by Elie Wiesel

Go to www.amazon.com for synopses and reviews

Films That Enlighten and Share Another Perspective. (These are the recent films I can’t get out of my mind)

The Insider
Hotel Rwanda (documentary)
Super Size Me (documentary)
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy
Dead Man Walking
The Mission
Finding Neverland (grownups will love this reminder to never lose a sense of wonder)

If you have any books or films to recommend, I would love to hear-I am always on the look out for good reads and good films.

Soulful Response

Have you ever caught yourself playing spiritual arithmetic? You observe the Sabbath by going to church/synagogue/mosque, you obey the fasts, follow the rituals, memorize the scriptures, you play by the rules of the community. Or maybe you shoot a prayer out every once in awhile when things get stressful. You buy a cute angel, an inspirational plaque, stick it on the shelf and pepper your language with God or Jesus every once in awhile in order to add weight to your statement.

If you’re not the church going kind, maybe you have an inner spiritual practice. You meditate or pray, read spiritual books, walk in nature and experience the sacred. You are on a journey of self-awareness and have been waking up to the gifts and the shadow that you previously denied. You are comfortable exploring your “inner terrain.” Perhaps you work with a spiritual director, counselor, coach or pastor as you deepen your spiritual path. You feel more grounded and centered.

Perhaps you are engaging in some self-care for the first time in a long time. You are discovering your passion, identifying your inner calling. Perhaps this includes shifting careers or shifting relationships that are draining your soul. It may mean discovering a new talent that you do as a profession or hobby. I have seen friends and clients who begin to hunger for some sort of creative outlet to nourish the soul. When they find it, they feel a surge in their life force.

These measuring sticks of our life journey are vital gauges of spiritual and personal development, but they are partial. The full measure of wholeness lies inside the terrain of human community. When we sit in a pew, a quiet meditation chair or beside a rushing stream, we allow ourselves vital moments of stillness and repose. We recharge our batteries. But, a truly contemplative life always calls us back to others. We carry our insights and wisdom and embody them as we live, work and play with those around us.

This does not mean we bring a sort of faith based bullying into the workplace or into our personal relationships. We have seen plenty of that in the past decade and we know that simply serves to divide us from one another. Francis of Assissi, a man whose life was rooted in the Christian tradition, said, “Preach the gospel and if you must, use words.” In other words, the wisdom you gain in solitude or worship must always translate into compassionate action. Gandhi wrote, “BE the change you want to see in the world.

So, what is a soulful response? It unfolds in every moment and tests your mettle in the most surprising of ways. It leads you to confront your demons. When you are challenged by someone who is inflexible and stubborn, you will have to confront your own intransgiency. You meet someone who seems cold and uncaring and you face the parts inside of you who want to close the shades to others’ pain. You hear a call from someone who is sick or dying and you face your own fears of your physical limitations and loss.

Soulful response happens in personal and professional relationships amongst the people we love the most and the least. Joan Chittister writes that “Our response to the human race becomes the measuring stick of the quality of our souls.” How are we responding?

In the past six months, we have witnessed an election divide our country, so we are called to respond with reconciliation and healing even if it is in the smallest of ways.

In my local community, we experienced the loss of a young mother and community volunteer and had to face our own sense of helplessness, loss and vulnerability. We are called to respond to the family in the lonely months that follow long after the shock has dissipated.

Recently, a new movie was released that details the holocaust of our time in Rwanda. It shares the story of the region’s own Oscar Schindler who saved countless souls when the world was silent. We all bear this burden-the challenge is not to wallow in guilt, nor become defensive or accusatory.

Soulful response demands that we reflect once again, open our hearts once again, and allow life to be our greatest teacher. What can I learn about myself from the stories in the newspaper?

We are called to ask ourselves, how can I be a voice for justice when a piece of me wants to close my eyes because I cannot take on the world’s suffering. It’s just too much. My kid is fretting over exams, my family has the flu, my work is sucking the lifeblood out of me and I’m worried about my Mom.

Soulful response never demands you backburner the needs of your family. Nor does it require you to neglect self-care. When we are weary from compassion fatigue, it is time to rejuvenate our own souls. Real love grows from a foundation of self-love and self-care.

Yet, care is not limited to just me (egocentric care) or People Like Me (ethnocentric care). Yes, care for oneself is foundational for human wholeness. Care for People Like Us, generates strong families and communities. The spiritual circle is truly complete when we care for all regardless of race, class, creed, culture or gender. This worldcentric care is the greatest calling because it summons us outside our comfortable insularity.

My butcher understood this when he said to me as his eyes filled, “Y’know what I was thinking when I watched the news last night? Those people in the tsunami were parents, just like me. All they want to do is love their kids and they had to helplessly watch them be swept out to sea, screaming their name.” This single father, raising a young son by himself, allowed his heart to be cracked wide open-such courage heals a wounded world.

The greatest courage is when we respond with action. My friend, Joyce, reaffirmed this to me one night last week. She left on my doorstep a gift. She had quilted me a beautiful handbag as a gesture of gratitude. Tucked in the bag was a note. She wrote that she was enclosing a Wall Street Journal article to respond to last month’s e-column request for stories that opened your heart and mind to others. The article, written by Suketa Mehta, was a poignant cry for help for victims of the tsunami. It closed with these lines:

“There is only one way to bring back some faith, some hope, some belief to those people who have lost it all. God wasn’t there when the tsunami struck; but God lives in us, better late than never. We must let Subhani and Seenu and Mahalingam keep their sanity, their sense of moral order in the universe, by reaching out to them. Even more important than the scale of the help is the simple gesture, of a human hand reaching out across the giant ocean, with money, with medicine, with technical expertise; in its own way as powerful, as majestic, as unstoppable as the tsunami itself.”

Joyce’s soulful response engendered my family’s soulful response to the tsunami victims. You see, it begins in the simplest of ways when the light in one soul strikes the match and lights the soul of the other.

Some Day is Now

As many of you know, I am a certified teacher of the Enneagram, an outstanding system for self-understanding based on nine personality types. Rather than put you in a box, awareness of your Enneatype breaks you out of your box by helping you overcome barriers to well-being. It identifies gifts and challenges of each type, communication style, leadership style, parenting style, and stressors. Awareness of your type and others’ type improves personal and professional relationships.

Geoff, a client of mine, recently said, “When we first started our coaching, I was pretty skeptical when you told me to watch my thoughts, habits and feelings. I mean, I asked you to help me grow my business, and you were talking about watching my thought patterns! Now, I see that awareness is everything!

A Six on the Enneagram, he began to notice the subtle ways he held himself back from achieving his goals. He watched his doubting mind and was surprised by what he observed. When we would develop an action plan for building his business in a coaching session, he noticed the ways he began to doubt it before he got back in his car. His habit of mind focuses on worst case scenarios and he comes up with a litany of reasons why the plan won’t work. In the past, he would have procrastinated, cancelled an appointment (withdrawal, common when a Six feels stress), or he may have conveyed his anxiety to his clients as he moved forward.

With a little awareness and some simple strategies, he has been able to see through these thought patterns. When he begins to doubt an action, he now checks in with himself. Is this a legitimate concern? Does he have corroborating evidence to back up this worst case scenario? More often than not, he has discovered that actual evidence is in short supply. What are some positive outcomes, he asks himself. Positive scenarios are a challenge for him to envision, so we have done some relaxation exercises in order to loosen his resistance.

His change in a short time has been remarkable. His willingness to roll up his sleeves and work hard serves him well. If Sixes support an action, they are dedicated hard workers. I have to occasionally remind him of his progress as he tends to have amnesia when it comes to the goals he has achieved.

I recently listened to the story of a Three, the Performer on the Enneagram, who spent a week in silent retreat. This woman, whose entire worldview insists that one must be constantly busy, task and goal-oriented, and productive to have any inherent value, spent a week alone. She noticed things she had never noticed before. Simple things like the rushing of a creek, the soulful song of a mourning dove, and the blue of a winter sky moved her to tears.

She had missed the serenity of a day spent in nature as she ran from goal to goal. She expressed surprise that people seem to enjoy this more authentic version of herself. She still works hard in her job, but she makes her way through the world with a heart that has opened.

These stories illustrate the power of self-awareness. Daniel Goleman insists that self-awareness is THE critical Emotional Intelligence competency. Social and personal competence begins with self-confidence, emotional awareness and an ability to accurately self-assess. The Enneagram is unsurpassed in assisting us in making some honest assessments of our strengths and weaknesses.

The key is cultivating a strong Inner Observer. What is an Inner Observer, you may ask. Try this: Take three deep, slow breaths, close your eyes and count your thoughts for one minute. Who is doing the counting? The Inner Observer. The Inner Observer, a neutral, observing self, can witness the patterns that keep you stuck. It shoots holes in your limited worldview.

It “outs” your debilitating patterns that keeps you stuck in repetitive conflicts, self-defeating behaviors, and in fear of change.

If you are a One, it busts your assumption that you, your co-workers, your children and your spouse must constantly strive toward perfection to find a measure of serenity.

If you are a Two, it “outs” your insistence that you have no needs of your own and that self-care is selfish. It knows that you do not have to give until you are drained in order to get the love and care you need.

If you are a Three, your observer knows that you are NOT only as good as your last accomplishment. You are a human being, not a “human doing.” Love can come even when you are not the star. Those who truly love you, love you-not your role

If you are a Four, your observer shoots a hole in your belief that you will be rejected or slighted by others. Intensity of feelings is the juice that revs your engines, but with some self-awareness, you find a measure of peace in balance and equanimity.

If you are a Five, your observer notices how you detach from others and hide behind a world of intellect and ideas, covering your warmth and compassion. The observer knows you will not be swallowed up when you allow yourself to experience your feelings.

If you are a Six, your observer knows that underneath your fear and doubt in yourself and others, lies extraordinary courage and loyalty. The observer will help you shift your attention from worst case thinking to realistic assessment of situations as they arise.

If you are a Seven, your observer reveals your fear of boredom, pain and limitations. When you allow yourself to slow down, and pay attention to the present moment rather than escaping to the next exciting plan, you discover the joy, depth and fulfillment that comes with commitment.

If you are an Eight, your observer busts your need for power and control and your insistence that this world is unjust and unfair-it allows you to soften to your own vulnerability knowing that you will always be a strong presence who is grounded in what is true.

If you are a Nine, your observer sees the subtle ways you forget yourself by caring for everyone’s agenda but your own. It begins to notice the way you passively-aggressively express your anger with stubbornness and quiet resistance. It calls you home to your own position-those who care will support you as you maintain your boundaries and express your own ideas.

Below are some suggested books and web pages to help you determine your type. Work with the suggestions and do the practices. Reading a book is just a beginning. A well done workshop is even better. Yet, if you stop there, the insights will fade. Change comes with daily action.

www.authenticenneagram.com
www.internationalenneagram.org

The Enneagram by Helen Palmer
The Essential Enneagram by David Daniels
Bringing Out the Best in Yourself at Work by Ginger Lapid Bogda
The Wisdom of the Enneagram by Don Richard Riso and Russ Hudson

Do the suggested awareness practices given to you by the book, web page or your executive/personal coach. Notice your resistance. (I worked with a client who was not sure she was a One. I asked her to make a deliberate mistake once a day for a week. She came in to the next session laughing-”Okay, okay I’m a perfectionist. I had so much anxiety, it was unbelievable. I think I am finally making a connection with my colitis and my perfectionism. My husband said I was uptight and I thought something was wrong with him!”) Her next assignment consisted of enjoying a day without any self-improvement agenda-enjoyment for enjoyment’s sake. Even as she enjoyed her day, her observer noticed the guilt that crept into her awareness).

If you feel like you need a partner to help you get “unstuck,” work with a trained, competent coach who will help you notice what you cannot see because of your limited filter. A coach is a partner who can help you stay focused and on track, make desired changes, and hold you accountable to an action plan. A coach observes patterns that keep you stuck and assists you in developing self -awareness so you act with intention instead of reacting on autopilot.

Take time for a retreat. I receive countless notices about retreats in our area that are geared towards personal and/or spiritual renewal and transformation. I know many of the teachers and they are competent, dedicated professionals.

Develop a relaxation, meditation and/or contemplative prayer practice. Can we cultivate self-awareness if we can’t take a moment to slow down and reflect? There are a number of books, tapes and teachers to assist you. Stress is the number reason for doctor visits-your mind, body and spirit are wonderful teachers reminding us that we are human BEINGS, not human DOINGS. Whoever thought of the idea of Sabbath was onto something.

If you are interested in learning more about the Enneagram, attend an introductory workshop, or a more advance one if you have been working with the Enneagram. Cincinnati has one of the highest per capita of Enneagram teachers in the world! We have a supportive and collaborative community. There are a number of executive/personal coaches, teachers, spiritual directors, counselors and ministers who are trained in this system.

Some day is now. We spend endless time and money on activities and things-computers, TV, new clothes, better bodies, better hair, better houses. We run ourselves, our children ragged and we feel restless when we stop for a moment to experience the sacred life that lies right in the moment. Richard Rohr says, “We are a circumference people with little access to the center. We live on the boundaries of our lives, confusing edges with essence, too quickly claiming the superficial as substance.” We usually wait until suffering, loss, depression, or grief to pay attention to the essence of our lives. Life calls us today and every day. Some day is now.

Simple Stories

Have you ever noticed how you repeat your same patterns again and again? Have you ever said to yourself, “Why did I say that?” or “Why did I do that-again?”

The patterns that get me in trouble usually have something to do with over-planning my schedule, forgetting that over-commitment leads to scattered behavior and weak follow through. Or, it might have something to do with controlling my children with my so-called wise advice that they never asked me to give.

You know your own. Think about it – what habits keep you stuck? Do you fail to speak up and express your own agenda and needs and then resent when you are overlooked? Do you make assumptions about people without checking to see if they are true or if they are something conjured in your creative mind?

Are you overly critical of yourself or others? Or is procrastination something that zings you again and again? Do you express anger in such a way that you alienate the ones you love the most? Do you over-give and then find yourself resenting those who benefit from your giving? Perhaps you are so goal oriented that you disregard your feelings and the feelings of others who try to communicate with you.

What if you had a tool that allowed you to self-observe in such an impactful way, that you could understand why you do what you do? What if you could begin to let go of patterns that no longer serve you and those around you?

The wisdom of the Enneagram allows us to uncover our motivations so we can stop repeating timeworn habits. I marvel when I interview panelists in my classes. They tell their stories and they laugh as they realize how similar their patterns are to those who share their type! Each story is unique and compelling, but those habits are remarkably similar.

I had a client tell me she had read all about the Enneagram, but it really began to sink in when she witnessed her first panel. That’s the beauty of the oral tradition. Our stories connect us to one another.

Once we get beyond the initial “aha,” the real transformation begins. We begin to self-observe-we learn our triggers, we become aware of our autopilot responses and begin to pause, and then convert our energy so they can engage in conscious conduct and healthier courses of action. Interestingly, the offshoot of such self-observation is a considerable amount of compassion for oneself and others. It is elegant to watch it unfold.

Let me share a couple stories that illuminate type reactions. If you are familiar with the Enneagram, see if you can guess the type as I share the story. (Thanks to Mary Bast, PhD., coach and friend, for the first story). If you are unfamiliar with the Enneagram, see if you can recognize patterns similar to your own or others in your life.

Mary Bast’s story:

Sue ‘was able to see everyone’s perspective and rarely got angry.’ She had been having tension headaches and gastrointestinal symptoms, and came for therapy at her roommate’s suggestion. Oh, and by the way, Sue had broken up with Clay, her boyfriend of three years, after she surprised him at his office having sex with his secretary.

Admittedly hurt and feeling betrayed, Sue ‘was able to rationalize his infidelity by citing his difficult childhood and that the secretary was pretty… she genuinely felt sad for him because she thought he would never be able to have a monogamous relationship.’ OK, readers, are you beginning to see an Enneagram trance?

Here’s one more hint: Sue’s father habitually raged out of control while her mother screamed and cried in response. Sue decided at an early age she would never rage like her father.

Yes, she is probably a Nine, the “Mediator.” Her explanation of why she wasn’t angry with her boyfriend is a prime example of how Nines minimize. We can guess that Sue maintained her Nine worldview by polarizing between raging and feeling no anger at all. Unconsciously, she believed if she didn’t tamp down her anger she would fly into a rage.

Her coach’s response was simple and elegant. He got Sue to agree to buy a clay plate of a pleasing color, wear goggles to protect her eyes, and break the plate in half with a rock, noticing how far into the clay the pleasant color permeated. Bit by bit, she was to break and grind the clay into dust, scoop the dust into a plastic bag, and bring it to her next session. By the time she returned, not only was Sue feeling exhilarated, she had phoned her ex-boyfriend and told him off. Within a few sessions her physical symptoms began responding to medical treatment.

Nines, who rarely get overtly angry, contain a good bit of anger underneath the peaceful exterior. When they begin to express their anger healthily, Nines begin to identify their own agenda instead of merging with others’ and acting out their anger passive aggressively. They learn to define their own priorities, despite the discomfort or conflict that may arise when they begin to “step into their own lives.”

Leslie’s coaching story:

Dick was warm and engaging and even had a small gift for me as we began our coaching relationship. He was a young, small business owner who was struggling with an employee whose personal unhappiness was creeping into the office and creating a toxic environment. Dick came to me for some coaching because his business felt stalled and he was stressed out, angry, and resentful.

He had talked to the employee repeatedly, expressing empathy for her situation, but explained her attitude was becoming a concern. At one point, he even gave the employee a small raise thinking it might help her home situation so she would be less difficult at work. When this did not work, he found himself dropping hints and making veiled accusations.

I asked him what he really needed. He deflected my question. Rather, he talked about what was best for the employees and what the company needed. He felt the difficult employee wanted to stay home to care for her ailing mother and young children. He shared stories of all the relationships within the office. I mentioned to him that he had not yet shared what HE needed.

When I asked this, his eyes and his voice dropped. He said he wanted to fire her because she was hurting his struggling business. If you are familiar with the Enneagram, do you recognize Dick’s style?

Dick is a Two who has a difficult time expressing his own needs. His focus on caring for everyone else was a “back door” way to meet his own needs AND gain approval and acceptance.

I asked what was holding him back. He said he didn’t want to be a tyrant. I reminded him that there is something between being a tyrant and allowing a toxic employee to poison an entire office.

When stuck in our type, we tend to think in polarities. Either I act upon my compulsions or everything will fall apart. In this case, Dick was sure he would be viewed as a heartless tyrant if he took care of his own need for a healthy business environment and satisfied employees.

Dick and I worked to reframe the situation and discovered that sometimes, letting someone go is a compassionate act for everyone involved. With clear resolve, Dick had a final discussion with the employee and let her go. He came to the next session elated. The mood of the entire office changed. He had been so concerned about being “nice,” that he hadn’t realized how damaging this employee was to office morale.

When Twos begin to “wake up,” they begin to discover that true self-worth comes from within-not from the approval of others. They develop an internal compass in which giving is no longer prideful and manipulative. Rather giving is grounded in a discerning heart that is naturally compassionate.

What is your story? Take a step back and observe your patterns. Avoid judgment and self-criticism. Just observe as a curious witness. Begin to widen your lens and ask if there are other ways of acting, thinking and feeling. Be aware of either/or thinking. How can you reframe a situation in order to discover a creative solution? What pieces of the story are you missing? What are you afraid to see? You can begin to open your eyes so that you can see reality with a fresh perspective, free of egoic compulsions.

The astonishing thing about “waking up” is not that everyone in the world becomes kinder and gentler. YOU become more open to life experiences just as they are. People and situations become opportunities for deeper insight and awareness. Wisdom deepens as you live closer to the essence of who are you were always meant to be. That is truly a story worth sharing.

Power vs. Force

We sit in a circle and begin the exercise in which we are invited to reflect on a question that happens to expose a touch of vulnerability. Some engage in quiet reflection, others choose to share aloud. Self-disclosure can be an act of courage. Then she speaks. “That NEVER happens to me,” she says. With a smug smile and a superior manner, she announces her wins, omits the setbacks, and lets the group know-she has arrived and is completely empowered-the mistress of her universe.

The tone of the group shifts. People begin apologizing and rationalizing their challenges. As the group disperses at the end of the meeting, she offers her business card. It says something about “Diva” and empowerment.

Empowerment, I wonder, or is this an ego carefully defended by any notion of vulnerability? When is power authentic and when is power forceful and domineering?

I recall teachers and mentors who exemplify authentic power. They are unlike “The Donald” (as in Trump), nor are they like the Diva at my meeting. They rarely beat their chests or proclaim their self-worth and greatness. They can laugh at their humanness and listen to others’ stories with openness and compassion. They don’t feel compelled to force others to comply with their ideas.

Their power is grounded in a confidence that springs from within. They have mined their inner depths-even as they are acutely aware of their ego defenses, they are also aware of an inner core which embodies wisdom, compassion, and truth. They inspire and encourage rather than force, dominate and boast.

How do we know the difference between Power and Force?

Force controls and coerces. My way or the highway, it insists.

Power teaches, points the way to internal wisdom and then steps back and yields. It knows that life lessons can’t be forced and controlled. They are learned one mistake at a time. Power gently pushes up against our defenses so we are challenged to grow.

Force competes while Power collaborates. Force insists on one winner and one way of thinking, acting and being in the world. It defends its turf, forbidding or minimizing dissent and input.

Power thrives on openness and diversity. Power invites participation while Force excludes other voices. Force clings to “I” while Power knows that “I” is deeply connected to “We.” Each story is the story of all of us.

Force is indifferent while Power is compassionate. Force is afraid to open the heart because emotions seem chaotic and weak. So, it refuses to listen to the experience of others.

Power knows that empathic listening is a doorway to transformation. Have you ever felt truly heard? Afterwards, did you find yourself more willing to listen?

Force is manipulative while Power is truthful. Force misleads and exploits people’s fears in order to control outcome and maintain superiority, dominance and the status quo.

Power names the truth in the face of discomfort, ridicule and dissent. Think of the great social movements of our time-prophets and leaders of revolutions rarely won popularity contests in their lifetimes. Or, think of parents and partners!

Force is impulsive and reactive while Power is thoughtful and reflective. Force reacts to external events with fear and condemnation. It seeks to point the finger of blame “out there.”

Power takes time to reflect and discern, aware that each action may be self-serving or harmful to others. It willingly points the finger within and examines its motives again and again. When power acts, it acts with intention. It acts with awareness of short term pain and long term gain. Think of the civil right movements in America, South Africa and Poland.

Force is rooted in rigidity and fear of change while Power is creative, generative and open to new ways of thinking. Force clings tightly to definitive answers because change calls for surrender and uncertainty. Tighten control and assert authority, insists Force anxiously.

Power empowers individuals to make decisions and delegates authority. It lives in the questions. It trusts that solutions may be hidden in the most surprising places. It steps outside the box unafraid. It finds exhilaration in innovation. It remains calm in the face of uncertainty, trusting that reality shifts, changes and evolves.

The tension between Force and Power exists in intimate relationships with family and friends. It exists in our schools, our work and our communities. We see it in living color in our political and religious structures. When conflicting ideologies are at stake, Power often gives way to Force particularly if we are afraid.

The key, as always, is awareness. When making a decision, ask:

• Am I defensive, arrogant and controlling or am I open to others’ perspectives?
• Do I invite collaboration and empower others or is my ego clinging to my own agenda?
• Have I been honest with myself and others?
• Did I take time for reflection and listen intuitively to my gut feeling?
• Am I reacting out of fear or faith?

Perhaps I was triggered by the Diva because I am aware of the “Diva” and the “Donald” inside of me who wants to control with Force. When my buttons are pushed, chances are someone is mirroring the shadow self I hide so carefully. Yet, I am also aware that inside of me is one whose power is empowering.

Inside of each of us, the potential for Power or Force exists. Moment by moment, we stand at a fork in the road.

Peace

I am on the treadmill early in the morning at the local gym and I see an older gentleman on the exercise bike. He has an affable smile and greets passersby. I hear him joking with an acquaintance and they mention the latest news from Iraq. “Nuke ‘em,” he says. “Those people are animals.” I wince. The listener mumbles something and walks away.

My mind wanders to recent memories and conversations. I think of my friend, who just moved back to the U.S. from Saudi Arabia. Her worldview was irrevocably altered when she saw the depth and complex nature of that culture. She and her husband, a businessman, lived and worked with Saudis. She loves being back home, but she knows she and her children are somehow different, shaped by new experiences that most can never understand.

 I think of a colleague who counsels vets contending daily with the effects of post traumatic stress disorder. She has worked in Vietnam, Ethiopia, and El Salvador and has worked with refugees in places as far away as Sierra Leone, Armenia and Thailand. She tells stories that move me to tears.

I recall a fellow student who lived in Iraq before the war, ministering to Iraqi families and young children, terrified by the prospect of war. Their lives are shaped by fear as they have lived under a regime of domination and oppression.

 I remember the story my friend shared of her nephew, 23 years old, who shot and killed an Iraqi insurgent in an abandoned building outside Kuwait. He is four years older than my daughter and his mind fills with images of war even as he awaits the birth of his first child.

My safe, insular world feels shallow and superfluous as I remember these stories. I am on a treadmill in a bright, cheerful gym half a world away, unaware of the luxury of knowing that my family is fairly safe from harm, my garden is bursting with color, and I have these precious moments to carve out for self-care. Making sense of the discrepancy is a daily challenge and my mind searches for answers.

What do we know for sure?

The world has changed and we no longer come from similar religious and cultural backgrounds. With a globalized economy, the internet, and rapid transit, our world is smaller and more complex. This century will be remembered for its radical departure from an old worldview.

We can learn from history’s lessons, but we cannot be slaves to the solutions that worked when the world looked very different. It makes little sense to long for the days of tight knit communities when people from similar backgrounds and religions lived and worked together. We can create community in our own towns, but we are also called to be cognizant and responsive to a wounded world outside our insular world.

Will we cling tenaciously to our comfortable past, or will we courageously envision a new worldview that is open to deep, long lasting change?

Think of our own American history-courageous people had the determination and vision to imagine a country without monarchy, rooted in the notion of democracy. Revolutionary stuff! How can we be pioneers in envisioning a world that integrates the remarkable changes of this past century?

We are now challenged to break out of old patterns of thinking and depart radically from existing frames of response. The only way to break a pattern is to be outside of the pattern. Just as our Enneagram personality type keeps us blind to our automatic behaviors, there are systemic patterns that keep us blind to cultural automatic responses.

The question remains, what does this mean for YOU? How can you begin to envision hope in a world wounded by war, economic disparity, and religious fundamentalism?

1. The first thing is feel your feelings and notice your reactions. Anger, wrath, sadness, helplessness, apathy, condemnation. These events elicit strong emotions. Feel them. Then, notice how you channel your feelings.

• Do you avoid the papers and the TV?
• Do you stay glued to the TV and read every article and listen to the pundits who share your opinion?
• Do you immerse yourself in daily activities, convinced that there is nothing you can do?
• Do write a letters to the newspaper or join a group?
• Do you vent, and judge and argue with anyone who does not share your view?
• Do you cry?
• Do you pray?

2. Do nothing. Sit quietly and refrain from acting. Practice what monks call metanoia, the discipline of looking inside with a critical eye. Remember the adage, “truth is the first casualty of war”. Notice the very human desire to demonize and dehumanize the other. I notice that people who experience other cultures, tend to avoid black and white thinking for they have lived among those whose lives are colored by the complexity of poverty, oppression and despair. They also know that the America portrayed in some foreign papers is very different from the America they call home. Notice your own biases and the biases of others without judgement.

3. Stop and listen. Really listen. Take a moment each day and listen to or read another point of view. Imagine you are a filmmaker researching a subject for a movie or book. Ask questions. Learn one thing that surprises you or moves you. Inhabit another world in order to truly feel another perspective so well that you could convey it to a friend.

4. Pray for compassion and peace or do what Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron calls a tonglen (compassion) meditation. Begin with a deep prayer for yourself. Next, engage all your senses and visualize your close friends and family. Then, include your neighbors and your community. Expand the circle to include those in other towns, states, countries. Next, visualize/pray for those who you have not forgiven and those who cause you to hate. Imagine those you love who have died and meditate on their power of forgiveness at the time of death. I have witnessed the powerful effects of this meditation.

5. Finally, now that you have resisted the impulse to react, think about how to respond creatively. Change is birthed in small increments. New worldviews rarely happen overnight. Consider:

• The Berlin Wall fell in a few days, but the power to support that fall happened long before the event.
• In 1776, Abigail Adams entreated her husband to “remember the women” in the new code of laws he was writing, yet the 19th amendment, guaranteeing full voting rights for women was not passed until 1920!

The key lies in opening our minds to divergent perspectives. Transformation is not an event-it’s a process.

Perhaps, just for today we can work on being peace to the people we encounter in our home, our work and communities. We may not be completely free of self-interest, but if we are present to the interests and concerns of others, that is a beginning.

Gratefulness in the Midst of Poverty

The asphalt is bumpy and the road is narrow as we are driven through the forgotten neighborhood of San Ramon in El Salvador. This place, like many impoverished places throughout the world, has not seen the fruits of the post-war economic boom. Homes held together by a thread, walls of corrugated steel and floors of dirt are a stark contrast to the lovely hotel I share with my husband and son in Antigua Cuscatlan. I stare out the window as my daughter, Laura, chats excitedly about her Salvadoran friends, who we will soon meet. I see mothers holding a baby in one arm and a child’s hand in another. I wonder what their eyes have seen in this place that has suffered death squads and brutal beatings.

We round the corner and I know we are getting closer to the community where my daughter works for I see a brilliant yellow building covered with paintings of working people, colorful crosses and Oscar Romero, the beloved archbishop of the people who was murdered while saying Mass in 1980.

We pay the cab driver and walk inside. I can’t tell you what I expected. Perhaps, dour faces in this place that has endured sufrimes (suffering) beyond my comprehension. Perhaps, I would see poor, cheerless people with dirty hands and torn clothes. Maybe I would feel their sadness and their loneliness and my heart would open in compassion on this Holy Saturday as they practiced for the Easter Vigil. Yet, as we walk slowly down the hallway, we are first greeted by Marita, a wide eyed four year old who shrieks with laughter as she hides from Emilio, her friend. My daughter tells us that Marita’s mother sings in the choir-”Marita is a buster,” she says, “who loves nothing better than pulling one over on a hapless, gullible volunteer.”

As we move closer to the sanctuary where the group practices, we hear guitars and joyful singing (there must be at least 100 voices, I guess). We walk into the room and Anita, the community director, greets my daughter with a great hug-Laulita, she says with smile and then she hugs my husband and son who tower over her. She comes over to me and says, like “Laulita”, we are familia to her and we are welcome to sit and enjoy the singing.

Rather than 100 people, I see less than 25, but they sing with such passion, they raise the roof. Gustavo, one of the few men in the room, plays the guitar and glances at our gringo family with a smile. Laura tells me that Gustavo is an artist who crafts beautiful crosses that he sells for $6 to delegations who visit their tiny community. As he plays, I notice my husband and son watch his deft hands strum the chords.

The atmosphere is full of joyful celebration. The room is covered with home made decorations-crosses are painted in bold colors and Romero’s face is painted on many of the crosses. In El Salvador, he right up there with Jesus as one who understands the plight of the forgotten poor. When they sing of “Christos,” I am struck by the intimacy and solidaridad they feel towards this man who has endured suffering like theirs. As they sing, they have no sense of self consciousness. Their eyes close in reverence and their mouths open and move like well-trained choirboys. Their hands wave with expression.

Every song I have ever sung feels hollow when I hear them sing-they have become the song-their gratitude is palpable. They dream fragile dreams, but they still dream. They are full of hope-their fathers have been stolen by war, their sons, as young as 12, have not come home from school for they were taken by the army, the women have been raped, their homes have been bombed and their cousin’s homes have been buried by volcanoes-and they still sing. In a strange sort of way, I was reminded of the townspeople of Whoville who sang that memorable song after the Grinch had taken all their cool Christmas stuff. My God, how do these people still sing?

When they finish their practice, I ask Laura to translate a message to one of the women, a 70 something woman who has stopped to greet “Laulita’s” family. I tell her that her singing is louder and more beautiful than one thousand voices at my home parish. She points to her chest and to the others and responds in English, “We happy.” My eyes fill with tears.

I suddenly realize she is feeling badly for me, the poor gringo who comes from a faraway parish where the singing is weak. I, who expected to feel compassion for the sad and lonely, found myself the recipient of compassion from a woman who has known deep joy that springs from I know not where. I don’t want to leave-I want to stay with these people for days and days as they have shared something with me and my family that feels trite every time I try to describe it. There are no words.

When I wrote theology papers in grad school, I wrote that wise sages and mystics could never articulate an experience of God. They just knew they had encountered the great mystery-they used words like “unitive awareness” and “ineffable.” They used poetry, metaphor and song to convey their experience-either way, they knew something had happened. In that tiny cathedral in El Salvador, something happened that I can’t explain. I stood on sacred ground. I just knew.

I thought gratefulness was easier when one had good health, money in the bank and material comforts. I questioned whether gratefulness could happen in a country wounded by the ravages of senseless violence. I wondered if gratefulness was easier in my country of abundance that suffers few wars on its shores in these modern times. Perhaps easier, but maybe the deep profundity of amazing gratefulness comes a bit slower when we become complacent in our abundance.

Many who face death will tell you stories of gratitude for the sheer miracle of a new day. Those who have lost someone say they wish they had appreciated their beloved more deeply. Those who have been hungry know that bread and milk and rice are sacred manna. The eyes of those we love, a bite of food and a safe home take on new meaning when it is elusive.

Yet, when we find happiness and gratitude in forgotten towns like San Ramon, we know that gratefulness has little to do with affluence and good health.

Perhaps, gratitude is more about finding hope in the face of hopelessness. Perhaps it is imagining that if everything were stripped away from us like it was for the people in New Orleans or in Iraq or in the tsunami ravaged countries of Thailand, Indonesia and India, and we were standing alone before Life itself, where would we find gratitude? Would we remember that “we have always belonged to something infinitely greater than our small selves” as Brother David Steindl-Rast writes?

Gratefulness has the courage to trust and so it overcomes fear, says Steindl-Rast. He says “Each joy and each sorrow gratefully accepted opens our hearts further until we come to know we are fully loved at all times in all places even beyond time and space.”

When I stand before the Easter choir in El Salvador, I remember that gratefulness springs from a deep insight: something good has been freely given. These people knew only my daughter, but they welcomed my whole family with open hearts and a song. My daughter is an hija (daughter) of theirs. Somos familia (we are family), they say to us. We are connected in this web of our lives. I have found another familia in the most surprising of places.

In my country, where we value independence and individualism, we can also remember that our forebears’ survival depended on their small communities of connection and relationship. They knew they were intricately connected to the natives of the New World and through this profound insight, they created a day of thanksgiving.

This week, we celebrate this national holiday of Thanksgiving. In this year of war and natural disaster and global poverty, the choir of San Ramon reminds me that prayers of hope and gratitude stretch beyond these shores and into a place, time and space that knows no bounds.

A grateful heart is an open heart and just for today and just for tomorrow and just for the day after that, we can choose gratefulness over alienation when we look in the eyes of a stranger and realize there are no strangers. Simple acts of kindness and gratitude, I know from San Ramon, shed light in these dark times.

May we live gratitude from the inside out this Thanksgiving week and every week. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.

I See From Where I Stand

I usually limit my exposure to television news. Yet this week, I find myself unable to turn my back on the suffering in the South. And as images flash across the screen and we all try to make sense of it, the Haitian proverb rings in my ears: “I see from where I stand.”

I talked to a man this week who told me, “Whoever didn’t get out of harm’s way, deserves to be stuck in the water.” He sees from where he stands: comfortable home, three cars in the garage, a supportive family to take him in and a stint in Vietnam in which he coped by hardening himself to human suffering.

I read a news story in which a young mother, who has never stolen anything, walks into an empty grocery to gather supplies for her family. The poor feel abandoned in this country of plenty. Leaders wonder why blame is being dumped at their doorstep, insisting they could never have predicted such mass destruction. The scientist shakes her head as she remembers unheeded warnings.

I see from where I stand.

I am discouraged by the defensive tone I hear on television. I am tempted to abandon my optimism.

Yesterday, at the local Red Cross, the phones ring with offers of help. A group of seventh grade girls from Evanston offer to donate $700 from their weekend car wash. Yvonne, from a local clown troupe, offers to entertain the children at the hurricane shelter. Marty, the weary Red Cross volunteer rolls his eyes, “Who needs clowns,” he says. “Just send money.” Sue, the student nurse, shrugs her shoulders, “Bless their hearts-they all want to help. Bring in the clowns.”

I see from where I stand. It is hard to see where you stand because your world is not mine. I have not seen what you have seen. The truth is, I am often blind. Blind to you and blind to me.

Wake up, every religious and wisdom tradition teaches. Wake up. To what? To yourself. To your assumptions, your biases, your limited perceptions. To your deepest center that is often hidden even from yourself. The spiritual path is always in invitation within. It is an invitation to mystery-assume nothing about anyone or anything… especially yourself. Wake up.

Richard Rohr says we are a “circumference people, with little access to the center. We live on the boundaries of our lives, confusing edges with essence, too quickly claiming the superficial as substance.”

So how do we move from edges to essence, from superficial to substance? How do we reconcile the incongruence of good and evil of human experience without becoming cynical or naive? How do we discern between ignorance and innocence and openness?

Awareness. Consciousness. Know that our reality is always limited. Know that we always may be wrong. Know that we see from where we stand.

Where do you stand? What is your reality? How does your life experience shape the way you receive and respond to the world? These questions are an invitation to respond to our lives with conscious intention. The good news is that a conscious response is a moral response. The bad news is that you could be wrong-limited by your lack of awareness of the whole.

Confusing stuff and it is precisely the reason that groupthink has such appeal. Tell me what to think, Ms. Newscaster. Tell me what to believe political pundit. Tell me how to dress, fashionista. Tell me who I am dear partner. Define my life wise teacher. Tell me who God is Preacher Man. Shape my reality because I am tired of grey. I long for certainty.

Perhaps we can admit this longing for black and white even as we choose the road less traveled in which we ask deeper questions that help us open our eyes about ourselves and others. Consciousness is simply an inward attentiveness. We awaken from this unconscious sleep state by turning inward.

I think this is why I am so taken by the Enneagram system of personality types because it nails our anger, pride and sloth. It outs our envy, gluttony and greed and unmasks our lust and deceit. It is startlingly true. The wisdom of every spiritual tradition is hidden between every line.

When I read the description of my personality style, my face grows hot. “Who knows this about me?” I wonder. How did she know about my chronic overscheduling, my intellectualizing to avoid painful emotions, my fear when my ideas about my self worth are challenged?

Face to face with my own shadow self, I am less likely to hide. There is a sort of freedom in this. I have seen the enemy and it is me. A little less “holier than thou” and a lot more, “I know where you stand.”

The move from circumference to center takes us beyond what is comfortable. It’s disconcerting at times, illuminating at others. Yet, it engenders humility and compassion-I’m a bit less likely to nail you for that speck in your eye as I have this plank in my own. We’re in this together. We can even laugh at ourselves. We can look into each face and look in the mirror know there is an untold story that we can’t even begin to fathom. Wake up, wake up, wake up so we can see where we stand.

Where I stand is in a place where I am sometimes afraid of this unpredictable world. I long to make meaning out of it all and wrap words around painful events so I can avoid the hurt of sadness and loss.

I stand in a place of privilege where I never go hungry, or wonder whether my children will have a home, and where I face minimal discrimination for the religion I practice, the color of my skin, or the language I speak. I stand in a place that has been touched by loss.

I stand in a place that is mine alone. My deepest hope is that more consciousness can come to our wounded world so that your place and their places and my place can, for even a brief moment, connect in a way so that allows enough closeness to hold one another’s heart in compassion and enough space to allow the freedom to be who we are called to be.

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