Going with the flow

It was a feeling I couldn’t quite identify.  Unnoticeable at first, its presence gradually become undeniable.   I asked myself if the unease was because my time was invested in one too many activities.  If this was the case I should identify which one; the decision to let it go from my schedule might be relatively straightforward.  I mentally rummaged through the items on my agenda.   No.  I couldn’t blame  these. They each had meaning and brought me something valuable. 

Eventually I looked at the me on the inside, and realised I had got caught up with a certain way of thinking.  Out of harmony with myself,  I was going with the flow that belonged to someone else.  I was caught up in their intent for themselves.  Being with those whose focus was different to mine had influenced me to think like them, thus I had become a pastiche of other people’s thought processes.   So what could and should I do about it?  I reminded myself why I had started this journey, why I had gleaned empowering knowledge from various sources.  I decided to go with my own flow, not other’s and be me.

Adequate for purpose?

Some time ago my house was restructured.  Before each room could be worked on I cleared it out.  As I negotiated each area I found forgotten items that were used only a handful of times, or had proved inadequate for the purpose I originally intended.  I told myself to be ruthless; if it had not been useful within the previous six months, then bin it.  However, each time I picked up an article, I went through the process of remembering when and for what it had last been used.  Finally I decide if I could or should use it again.  Sometimes protectively, I saved an item, just in case it could be made use of later.

The same thing happens when we decide to improve some aspect of the person we are.  We question whether we should become more or less of this or that.  It seems scary to let go of behaviour that protected and/or gave us identity. We remember characteristics that have become hidden by life, and wonder if they should be reintroduced to our self now.   The question to ask is ‘Will that aspect be adequate for who I intend me to be?’.

When I leave, what’s left?

I’ve been thinking about the impact people have on each other.  Recently I observed a team which appeared unable to perform as a cohesive unit.  Some members engaged in disruptive behaviour, and this affected those attempting to work well.  The negative performance of the unofficial leader was overwhelming .  The team’s focus disintegrated and on the surface seemed determined to destroy itself and not achieve its goal.  What was the root problem?

Reflecting on the team’s performance I realised that the members had not started out with the intention to fail.  They appeared to have looked forward to the opportunity presented.  It was the team director’s contribution which had been divisive.  He expressed negative concerns about their abilities and the motivations of particular individuals.  These concerns expressed in the presence of the team had been like a bomb.  It was dropped, he left and the team had to deal with the fallout.  They sat in the mire of individual anger and resentment, rather than focussed on giving an effective contribution.  

So, I ask myself, what’s my  impact on other people?  Are their tools blunted or sharpened by my contribution?  What’s my input’s  influence on their performance?  When I leave what’s left?

Pass the Parcel

The children, under their teacher’s guidance, play pass the parcel.  As it goes round, anticipation and excitement shine in their eyes. They’re totally connected with and committed to the possibility within it.  Someone is going to get the reward and ‘Me’ is the person in each mind.  Several decide to slow down the process, hoping their moment for glory has arrived.  It hasn’t.   As the music stops for the final time someone prizes the last layer from the seductive bundle.  A sense of unfairness rises within those who have touched the package, but ultimately not the reward.  Tears witness one child’s sense of loss while the teacher demonstrates celebration of another’s success.   The key thing is that none have withdraw from the activity.  They’ve  remained in the hope of being the one to hold the trophy.  

We can do everything we know how to be present for ‘that’ chance, and yet it may bypass us, it's evasion seeming unfair.   The resultant bitterness steeped in disappointment beckons our withdrawal.  But consider the possibility that the parcel’s contents might not have been quite right for you.  How are you dealing with the frustration?  How are you preparing for the right opening? 

Time to say “Goodbye”

Everything, whether frail or robust, new or deep-rooted, good or bad ends at some point.  The moments leading to and coming from the finish hold the opportunity to say goodbye.  Goodbyes are generally said with sorrow, as we mourn the passing of who and what was.  We come away determined in our mind to cherish the times shared with them.  We remember events that positively impacted us, and wonder if we can ever enjoy such sweetness again.  We recall with longing those seasons and relationships  which, through separation and departure, are no longer a source of pleasure. 

Yet goodbyes can also be joyful.  When we think of release, new freedoms, new openings, new beginnings, and new discoveries hope is ignited.  Goodbye signals what is final, yet it’s also a clarion calling our attention to what could and might be – if we’re prepared to allow it.  Goodbye must be said if you want to navigate and delight in new adventures. 

Each of us knows where and to what our  goodbye is directed.  Whatever the circumstance in which you’re saying it, look forward with renewed optimism.  Your better will, and has to come.  Goodbye heralds its beginning.

Stop, Look, Listen

Watching a television programme recently, one of the articles was about the green cross code.  Invented and intended to help reduce and stop untimely deaths, it’s saved many lives.  The message, “Stop, Look, Listen” remains the same, no matter which characters or the medium used; from a puppet squirrel, to lately, posters of young models in death poses.  The mantra reminds children and adults to be careful about their navigation of what were relatively empty, but are now very busy roads. 

The “Stop, Look, Listen” concept can be applied to all aspects of life.  We become busy with meeting looming deadlines, managing pressurised relationships, pushing against tired bodies and minds.   We barely take the time to stop what we’re doing for a while, to look at where we’re heading, or listen to what is happening around and inside us.  We’re often going somewhere but not where we intended; admitting it feels like failure.  It might be, but it's also an opportunity.   An opening to take stock, decide if “this” is really what you want to be doing, to raise antennas to gain new and better direction.  It will pay off in the long run. 

A bridge over troubled water

Recently in the London/Tower Bridge area I saw a type of fountain I’d never seen before.  It was a narrow conduit running I guess 100mtrs.  Metal paving crossed it every few metres so people could walk over rather than hop across the open channel.  The flow of water was not the same along each section of the fountain.  Seeing the paving I thought of the Simon and Garfunkel song ‘Like a bridge over troubled waters’, and began to think about what it means to be a bridge.  

A bridge is defined as a structure that carries a road or path across an obstacle; an access point.  As a metaphor it speaks of support being given to others who, dealing with the flow of life, feel ill-equipped to face challenges.   As a bridge you help them to reach the options they feel unable to negotiate on their own.   You take some of the burden, lending them the strength and ability needed to reach a resolution.   You’re needed for a limited time; how long is hard to determine.  But having crossed their obstacle, the confidence you’ve helped them to grow will take them forward without you.