Welcome to our Hō‘ike‘ike 2006 —A Collection of Bloggers’ Bests on Management and Leadership in the spirit of Managing with Aloha. This is a forum in which I ask for contributions that are a blogger’s best from the past year….

Then today, it is a wonderful deepening to read (and listen to you read) this again when the value of the month we now celebrate within the Ho‘ohana Community is nānā i ke kumu, one I think of as self-respect and dignity of spirit. The illumination of Radiance is so self-affirming, as is trusting that we do have it, and simply need to release it.
With much aloha,
Rosa

“It presents a paradox, at least for me, in that “actionless action” where waiting and watching in the “stillness” for the right action to come (and it can come in a nano-second) works and striving, which is what I am used to and comfortable with, often does not.”

There’s a story that the Buddha once said, “the hardest thing is waiting.” I like the way you hightlight this in your comment, Dean, and contrast it to striving.

Many years ago, on a late night flight back to Seattle — after an especially bad consulting day — I found myself writing a poem called “Trust the Angel.” It was my version, I guess, of the release from striving. The poem became a mantra to me, a private prayer of opening, a source of energy that has carried me through many challenges, as if the sequence of moments in which I have genuinely trusted the angel is the real biography of my life. It helps me to remember (and this is reminiscent of Nick’s comment, above) that what comes through the portal is not just ideas or insights, but the most authentic affirmation possible for the person who is willing to just open and “receive.” Call it light or love or Intuition, in the moment of real receiving, there can be a remarkable sense of wholeness. I can no longer tell: is it me seeing into my True Self or is it my True Self seeing into me?

I may have experienced some of what you write about. Since last May’s BTE, I have had several occasions where I have had to make my way through some significant and challenging work problems that no matter how strategically I approached them, I could not find an answer or way to face them that made any sense. Essentially I gave up trying to find “the” answer and sent the problem out to the universe (much like the beach ball guy in Jory’s blog) and simply asked for whatever answer there might be. And by some experimenting with this sort of letting go I had built up confidence in the process enough to have faith that the right thing would be provided … if I were alert enough to see the answer. Paying attention and being unattached to any particular kind of answer became a crucial factor too.

I remember dealing with a particularly difficult personnel problem that I could not find a suitable answer for and it did not come until just before I had to address the problems in a face to face meeting … but it did come. I could say that I just made it up, but it came from somewhere and I have the feeling it was not “me” that provided the solution. I was the medium that allowed the solution to manifest in my “real” world. Throughout this situation the feeling that I was not up to the task would often wash over me but I knew I had to deal with it directly and decisively but I never really could solve things by just thinking through the problem and deducing the best, correct answer on my own. I had to let go of it, let things happen, and then respond as best I could from the heart. That is, I wanted to be fair, honest and as direct as I could be in the situation considering the multitude of masters I was serving.

I had thought that the “practice” you speak of was something that you did because it was following some way that had been laid out. That way might be from something I was taught, had experienced, how I perceive the world as working, how I perceive myself as being. However, I am coming to think that what may be more true to reality is that a person make’s the path or the practice by walking (doing) every day, by letting things happen but being in action. The path appears because I am interacting with things and it takes me to interesting sights. It mirrors your blog’s new name: life unfolds from what was there all along and what we have to do is interact with what is there. The trouble is that many times I fear letting go enough to walk on and let life unfold and then be response-able to what is presented. Sometimes I don’t want to deal with what is there; I want it to be something else, something nice. It presents a paradox, at least for me, in that “actionless action” where waiting and watching in the “stillness” for the right action to come (and it can come in a nano-second) works and striving, which is what I am used to and comfortable with, often does not. To get there I have to be open and unattached, not always an easy thing to do. The other part, and this can be uncomfortable too, is to be ok with not being the answer guy, but just being the guy who had the ability to let things happen in a natural way, which seems too simple and not enough hard work.

Dean F.

Joe McCarthy sent me a great montage of the diagrams in this post. You can see it here.

(If you couldn’t find the individual diagrams, click on the names of the three “stages” in the post. Sorry this wasn’t clearer.)

Joe

Thanks so much for your insightful comments and links, and thanks again for the cool montage. You are true friend.

Many other aspects of your post resonate deeply with me, weaving together several threads I’ve been following lately, consciously and unconsciously. I’ll just note three of these threads here.

The stages of radiance you so wonderfully outline are reminiscent of the stages of grief, but I like the enhanced simplicity and positivity that you express here (not to mention the mandalas — I’d love to see them compiled into an animated GIF).

I was also reminded of the Prayer of Saint Francis, especially its reference to where there is darkness, [let me sow] light.

Finally, as so regularly happens with your writing, I got in touch with the poetic dimension of life. In this case, your reference to the “music [that] plays me” reminded me of a Rumi poem, Each Note:

…
God picks up the reed-flute world and blows.
Each note is a need coming through one of us,
a passion, a longing-pain.
Remember the lips
where the wind-breath originated,
and let your note be clear.
Don’t try to end it.
Be your note.
I’ll show you how it’s enough.

Let everyone climb on their roofs
and sing their notes!

Sing loud!