photo credit: freeparking

Thanks to Jo Carson for reminding me of Gregg Braden’s story about the true nature of intentions: While traveling with a Native American rainmaker in a drought-stricken part of the desert of the American Southwest, he witnessed the rainmaker at work. Once he was done, Gregg asked the man if he had prayed for rain. To which the man said “No.” When asked why, the main responded, “You pray for rain, you don’t get anything. You have to feel the rain, and smell it, see what it does for the land. You have to be the rain. You have to pray rain.

Where is my faith?

It seems like a timely story as we wrestle in the U.S.—and now globally—with significant economic challenges. Why, you might ask?! Because in some ways it is a crisis of faith. Not just faith in our money and our banks and our leaders, but ultimately  faith in ourselves. While many of us have seen this coming, it has been unnerving to say the least as it has spiraled down so quickly. We doubt ourselves and worry for our future. Many people have been left gasping on the cusp of a momentous election, wondering when the rain will come to quench the fires of our anxieties. Enter the story . . .

The “bail-out” merely postpones the inevitable hard choices in front of us regarding reconstructing our lives and our identity to be more sustainable and equitable. As the man said, if you pray for rain—by standing outside the system and hoping to be rescued—you get nothing. It is like clients who want their lives to be different but they don’t want to change.

What is mine to do?

One thing I am taking from this time is to look at my own willingness to pray rain. I can’t wish it all away. How do I need to change my habits, my attachments, my willingness to sacrifice for my daughter and those who will come after me in order to create a healthier life? It is a time for courage, compassion and imagination in seizing this moment instead of being seized by fear.

The old stories about consumption as salvation, celebrities as heroes, greed as virtue, and war as a solution have run dry. It is time we create and live new stories with our lives. It is time to be the rain! And so, I will add my drops to help bring about that new story. . .

I had the good fortune recently of speaking at the inaugural meeting for a new ICF Chapter in Hamilton, an hour’s drive south of Auckland. Present in the group photo from left to right are Jan Canton, Janet Young, yours truly, Sally Webb, and Dorothy Oliver—the team who organized the first International Coach Week celebration for the Waikato/Bay of Plenty Region. Missing from the photo is Corene Walker, Director of Events, ICFA. It was a wonderful opportunity to help them kick off their chapter with this special event for coaches, potential coaches and organizational leaders who use coaching. We spent 90 minutes talking about “What Are Your Clients Trying to Tell You? . . . And How to Listen to their Stories to Find Out!” The drive down together was filled with delightful humor, an engaging conversation about the state of coaching, and confirmation that there are indeed sheep in New Zealand!

While in the area, I got a tour of the beautiful “whop whops” (rainforest/mountain range) by Leslie Hamilton, Chair of the marvelous 2007 ICFA Conference in Melbourne. On the same trip I spent an evening speaking on the same topic for the inaugural meeting of the ICFA sub-chapter in the delightful city of Hobart, Tasmania and for Coach Week in Perth. I always enjoy introducing people to a new approach to coaching that is driven by a mindful and compassionate attention to the narrative material from clients’ stories. I finished off this part of the trip with a two-day workshop on narrative coaching with 16 people. What I love about working Down Under is the genuine openness to learning. More workshops are being scheduled as I wrote this.

Leave me a note on the blog if you’d like to talk about hosting a workshop in your area.