photo credit: xoque

Do you ever get to the place in your work where you feel like there is too much to do, to remember, to track? I used to pride myself in being able to hold a lot at once — in my mind, for my clients, and about my work. As the complexity of our world increases almost geometrically and I find myself affected by the simple arithmetic progression of aging, I find that harder and harder to do.

I thought about this the other day in the context of launching a narrative coaching center with a team in Toronto and the first narrative design lab in Sydney. Add that to my full-time practice, research and writing projects, and a personal life — and it started to feel a bit much.  I had the chance to talk with my  friend and colleague Andrea J. Lee about my plans. In the course of doing so, she suggested that I might need to release my need to understand it all — and just do the next thing that needs doing. It was a wonderful insight that really hit home for me.

Enjoy the vista, but watch your feet

As I put this approach into practice the next day on a planning call with Toronto, there was a much greater sense of ease and grace in our conversation. What had become long lists of tasks quickly distilled into some immediate actions to take. It felt liberating. This is not about ticking lots of ‘to do’ boxes like a mouse running in a wheel; it’s about building toward something meaningful one step at a time. The era of seeing the whole picture, knowing everything about something, and planning the entire journey is over. Now, it is about doing what needs to be done next — and from there seeing what the world looks like and acting accordingly.

It’s like a good story. The magic is in the suspense of wondering what will happen next, and long arc of the plot often only becomes apparent in the end. I think our work is more and more like that. How about you? We take the steps we need to take in order to respond to and create what is emerging . . . and soon marvel at how far we have come and where we have arrived! Like stories, understanding is in retrospect, not a requirement for getting started.

If you feel stuck or daunted by all that needs to be done, ask yourself right now, “What’s the next thing that needs doing?”

photo credit: a hundred visions and revisions

I wrote yesterday about the importance of Faith right now. Today I want to turn my attention to Hope.

It is understandable in these times to look for the easy wins, the reshuffling of the proverbial ‘deck’ that will help us find a new winning hand. However, in doing so, we may be avoiding asking ourselves what ‘game” we want to actually be playing. Now is not the time for soft questions or banal answers. Now is the time to dig deep, to find that bedrock of hope that are the foundation for the work that is ours to do. Sometimes the most important step is to first one: to stand still, re-member ourselves, and pay attention. While at the check-out stand yesterday, I glanced over and saw this comment from champion surfer Kelly Slater, “Motivation is temporary. Inspiration is permanent.”

I have found across my life that an essential element in navigating difficult choices and difficult times is to to ensure that I have a strong personal foundation in terms of my mental, emotional, physical and spiritual well-being. I find in working with clients that they struggle most when they gauge their level of hope by what transpires in the external world around them. Most all of us have known despair at one time or another in our life. Hope does not dispense with despair, but rather enables us to stand in whatever is present but guided by a fundamental inspiration that is not attached to the vagaries of circumstance. Hope is about deepening our roots so we can draw the sustenance that the branches—our life—need in order to reach to the sky.

Unfortunately, some clients have become root-bound, unable to change with the times, while others are restless and unrooted, unable to ever quite fulfill their mission. As I thought about my work with them, I was reminded of an ancient African proverb that if people walk too far or too fast, their story will not catch up. Narrative coaching is about helping people ‘catch up’ with their stories so they have the foundation for the life or the organization they desire. We embody hope when we can stand in our stories, individually and collectively, and draw power from the powerful myths of the earth and tell the healing stories of the sky. Cut off for either of these, we are far less sustainable. Now is the time to rekindle our sense and sources of intrinsic hope so we can step consciously and courageously into the challenges of our time.

Where do you need to put down deeper roots? What sustenance do you need to dwell in Hope more often?

Have you ever noticed that certain stories or story lines keep returning in your life? Sometimes these returns are developmental, e.g., as with the notion of karma and the integration of shadow elements we’ve discarded along the way. Sometimes these returns are intentional, e.g., the final stage of the heroic journey as we return ‘home’ with the gains from our passage. I see this all the time with clients who keep circling back through a series of stories—all revolving around a similar theme that slowly crystallizes and the heart of it becomes clear. It is from this clarity that the deepest sense of their calling becomes apparent . . . and they now know what must be done.

Finding our way

The goal as narrative-based coaches is to be patient and present enough to let clients’ stories flow, gently guiding them along the path as it emerges.

Do you have the patience to wait
till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
till the right action arises by itself?
(Lao-Tzu)

In the busyness of our lives, it is so easy to overlook these often subtle rhythms and patterns. As part of my own discernment process these past few weeks, I’ve been slowing down to think about the purpose of money in my life. One outcome of this process led me to Frederick Marx, a documentary film maker most well-known for his role in Hoop Dreams. In doing so, I realized that I had lost touch with the importance of place, of home, of sanctuary to me. Is not that in some ways what the innate drive for “return” all about?

Making new choices

As a result, I’ve decided to make a serious donation to help him finish his next film about Zanskar, the last remaining Tibetan Buddhist society with a continuous lineage (dating back thousands of years). The story is about two monks who are instructed by the Dalai Lama to do everything in their power to insure that Zanskar’s culture, language, and religion survive. This is a movie about their journey back to Zanskar. You can read about the 17 paths here.

What stories are cycling back into your life these days, carrying with them messages for you? What “mud” needs to settle in your life settle so you can more clearly see the next right action on your journey?