Writing is the foundational force that changed my life from one of isolation and silence into a life of well-being and connection. Today I use poetry and other forms of writing as awareness tools in my coaching practice, as I have personally experienced writing’s transformational, life-affirming power, its priceless ability to surprise, and its comforting presence.

I’m not a disciplined writer, though I’m training myself to be more consistent, not because I think there’s a right or wrong way to be a writer, but because it’s so satisfying after working for hours and doing it the next day, and the day after, and…

Now I scribble thoughts and sentence fragments in my small Moleskine notebook that I carry in my purse, or on Stickies and scraps of paper that I collage on the corkboards above my desk. The actual writing comes when a door of inspiration opens and some word, image or event compels me to sit down and do the work. This haphazard and flexible creativity, though hopefully getting less haphazard, what Julia Cameron calls “writing in the cracks and crevices of one’s life,” has resulted in a partially completed manuscript titled The Roar of the Lotus: Rethinking Our Stories, Unleashing Our Power. 

Its pages are back on my desk (after many months in a drawer) since I gathered the courage to read the first chapter at a local Works in Progress event. I’m sharing the introduction on this site as an intentional impetus for myself — you can read The Invitation below.

I’ll occasionally post excerpts from the book; if you’d like to be contacted when this happens, let me know. I appreciate your interest and your visit to these pages.

12.14.11—Click here to read new posting of Thread I: Inevitable Change, Chapter I: Ah! Chaos

 

The Invitation

“I observe myself and I come to know others.”

—Lao Tzu

The roar of the lotus. These were the words that came to me during a meditation long ago. I’d lost track of time in the meditative calm, yet the words pulled me back to write down this unexpected message, full of a compelling energy unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

The phrase has come to me often and without warning through the years. Its recurring message stretches me beyond whatever habits I’ve fallen into, for always it sings of a place where a lotus does indeed roar. It’s a place within me where the contradictions of life, the paradoxical thoughts and events that exist in so many situations, struggle to co-exist.

One of my first conscious experiences with paradox was when two very familiar yet conflicting parts of me “roared” at the same time.

Six years after that memorable meditation, I was sitting at my desk in my little cube of an office. I was the office manager, accounts manager, and whatever-else-needed-doing-manager in our family business at the time. I was grumpy and moody; there was an invisible “Do Not Enter” sign stretched across my open doorway. Never one to let my moods stop him, my husband appeared and leaned against the doorjamb.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“I want to go back to school. Finish college. I’m so tired of all this,” I muttered, waving my hand disdainfully over the files and papers stacked on my desk.

“So what’s stopping you?”

Then he turned and walked away.

I sat with my mouth open. My reaction was instantaneous. I can’t do that! Yet his words activated something else, a quieter though just as powerful thought that existed alongside the “no.” I can do that.

Yes, I can.

 

Two months later I booked a flight to Vermont and drove to Goddard College, the school I’d dreamed about attending for several years. I walked around the lush green grounds and felt a sense of belonging. After over thirty years of feeling the ghostly tug of not having finished school in my early twenties, I returned at age fifty-three, and simultaneously enrolled in a life-coaching accreditation program.

With poetry and writing as the focus of my studies, I delved into the metaphorical beginnings of language, the startling contrasts between mindful and mindless behavior, and illuminating breakthroughs in the neurobiological sciences. The art and skill of listening, and the liberating impact of shifting one’s perspective were among the highlights of my coaching instruction. Both programs provided the opportunity to experience and witness our inherent human tendency to stretch toward wellness and wholeness. A “knowledge gap” I’d been sensing for years began to fill with fascinating concepts, and more importantly, infinitely more questions.

This influx of awareness tools, information, and questioning initiated an expansive rethinking of my life stories, the thoughts, tales, beliefs and habits that I’d accumulated over fifty-plus years.  I was in conscious conversation with all of my interconnected parts, actively engaged with my intellect, intuitive gut feelings and a heart-and-body sense of knowing.

This way of integrated thinking and conversation, with its spirited, freeing energy, led me beyond the confines of the humdrum and habitual, and toward the smallest of details, the forgotten and hidden places of the specific, common threads that ran through my stories.  One of those threads was silence, not the soothing silence of a meditative walk in the woods, rather the uneasy rumblings of thoughts, feelings and stories suppressed for generations. To follow this thread required curiosity. How would my life change if I disengaged from the restraints and secrecy of this type of silence?  A newfound willingness and courage came to my aid when eye-opening patterns began to emerge, including my intractable silence in the face of conflict, using the “silent treatment” to keep others at a distance, and the healthy necessity of quiet time alone. Self-compassion was invaluable as I listened for the insights within my stories to emerge.

I’ve come to know that all the seemingly disparate threads of a person’s life story relate to each other. Each individual life is linked to the lives of others. These lives make up the human community. The human community is in intricate kinship with the innumerable organisms and systems of the natural world. Pull one thread, and the entire woven fabric of experience shimmers and shakes.

A life of such awareness—one that embraces all aspects of self and others—is a wisdom of wholeness. I speak of wholeness here from a place of deep observation; no part of our selves can go missing without experiencing a dissonance, an emptiness, a pull of the heart or mind, or both. Within this wholeness is the transformative power of being rooted in our identities, committed to being in conscious conversation with all of our interconnected parts. It’s not “either/or” thinking (I can’t go back to college), rather the perspective of “yes, and…” (yes, going back to college seems impossible, and I can do it).

The “yes, and . . . ” viewpoint opens up a mindfulness of possibility, unleashing reserves of energy, creativity and compassion that fuels clearer action and choices. Once we adopt this perspective in our day-to-day lives, we can let go of being unconsciously defined by what is not ours. We are, instead, consciously informed by all that has and will continue to come our way, an adaptable, lively knowing that connects us to our truest selves. The entirety of our experience and the innate wisdom birthed from those experiences brings us face to face with a power that comes from our very core. The word core comes from the Latin “cor,” which means heart. Once seen, acknowledged, and embraced, this power is one of our greatest assets, for it comes from the stories we ourselves have lived, nurtured, and made whole from our myriad, intricately interwoven parts.

My studies were like a maze, each turn taking me into unknown territory. More open, more curious, and more disciplined than my younger self, I came across quantum physics, chaos theory, and the paradox factor. Amazed and surprised when the surface of things—the familiar and the habitual—turned upside down and inside out, newly emerging patterns stretched my perceptions, and then stretched it some more. What factors lead to health and wholeness in a person’s life? Why does change and upheaval often lead to vitality and happiness? How do we continue to be resilient and compassionate in the face of chaos?

Spoken and written language and the ability of the human brain to physically change, called neuroplasticity, became crucial pieces of understanding as the questions flowed. Why does one word or phrase cause divisive anger, and other language create connecting conversation? How does becoming familiar with the workings of the human brain bring about clarity? Is it possible to re-write the stories of one’s life?

Always present then as now, the radiant thread of spirit provides a constant, unifying presence, connecting love, faith, responsibility, gratefulness, and authenticity.  What nourishes and sustains us as human beings? Who defines what is “right” and “normal”? Where lies our purpose as embodied souls?

The Roar of the Lotus is about life as it is, an everyday life lived and transformed in grocery aisles and traffic jams, in the midst of disappointments and triumphs, in the company of families and strangers. Common life that, in reality, is extraordinary. There is a line in a William Stafford poem that reads,  “ . . . the darkness around us is deep.” This book challenges you to see the ways in which our brilliance and desire for wholeness is stronger than any perceived darkness; that our human abilities to persevere, adapt, create, and love are profoundly regenerative in the face of chaos, paradox, and change. Personal stories and information from various fields of knowledge and tradition illustrate and ground each chapter of this book. Provocative questions and accessible, relevant tools to help integrate various concepts are shared throughout.

The roots of a lotus are anchored in the mud beneath dark waters, yet it is within that darkness where nutrients for its journey to air and light are gathered. Bursting from the depths, there are no physical traces of the lotus’s origins, yet the silty darkness fuels its beauty and magnificence. Its leaves glisten, the buds burst with vitality, the flowers inspire beyond earthly limits. The lotus is a symbol that sings of an immutable loving wholeness. Heard across cultures and centuries, sometimes it is heard softly, other times as an indomitable roar. It is this song that has sustained and nurtured this book. It is a song I invite you to sing.

As with most things that expand and enrich our lives, the singing of this song takes practice. To rethink our stories, follow the threads, and live from our rooted power reveals the life-giving connections to one’s self, to family, to community, to the entire living organism called Earth. Out of this knowing comes a potent vitality that inspires and invigorates whatever it touches.

It is like music that resonates in every cell. Everyone who hears it is moved.

“There’s a thread you follow. It goes among things that change.

 But it doesn’t change.”

—William Stafford