What does it mean to "speak our own
truth" in a circle of trust? Of
course, the question cannot be answered in terms
of the common, which will vary vastly depending
on who is speaking and when.
But no matter what the content may be, speaking
our truth always takes the same form: we
speak from our own center to the
center of the circle--to the receptive heart of
the communal space--where what we say will be
held attentively and respectfully. This
way of speaking differs markedly from everyday
conversations in which we speak from our
own intellect or ego directly to the
intellect or ego of someone on whom we hope to
have an impact.
Everyday speech is "instrumental"
rather than "expressive," intended to
achieve a goal rather than simply to tell one's
own truth. When we speak instrumentally,
we try to influence the listener by informing or
affirming or rebuking or making common
cause. But when we speak expressively, we
speak to express the truth within us, honoring
the inner teacher by letting it know that we are
attending to its voice. Our purpose is not
to teach anyone anything but to give the inner
teacher a chance to teach us.
Of course, knowing when we are speaking from the
soul rather than the intellect or ego is
difficult, since the intellect and ego insist
that they are the center of our lives and
they speak the voice of truth!
It
takes time to learn to distinguish between the
various voices within us and even more time to
get regular access to the voice of the
soul. The signs that we are speaking from
that inward center are subtle, as subtle as the
stillness of a pond; the capacity to recognize
them grows slowly as we speak in a space where
no one is making ripples.
Though it is hard to know when we are speaking from
our own center, it is not so hard to know when
we are speaking to the center of the
circle: expressive speaking is less
stressful than its instrumental
counterpart. When we speak directly to
others in order to achieve a goal, we feel the
anxiety that comes from trying to exercise
influence. But when we speak to the center
of the circle--free of the need to achieve a
result--we feel energized and at peace.
Now we speak with no other motive than to tell
the truth, and the self-affirming feelings that
accompany such speech reinforce the practice.
How we listen in a circle of trust is as
important as how we speak. When someone
speaks from his or her center to the center of
the circle, the rest of us may not respond the
way we normally do--with affirmations or
rebuttals or some other way of trying to
influence the speaker. So we learn to take
in what is said with as much simple receptivity
as we can muster.
Receptive listening is an inward and invisible
act. But in a circle of trust, it has at
least three outward and visible signs:
* Allowing brief, reflective silences to
fall between speakers, rather than rushing to
respond--silences that honor those who speak,
give everyone time to absorb what has been said,
and slow things down enough so that anyone who
wishes to speak can do so.
* Responding to the speaker not with
commentary but with honest, open questions that
have no other intent than to help the speaker
hear more deeply whatever he or she is saying--a
demanding art.
* Honoring whatever truth-telling has been
done by speaking one's own truth openly in the
center of the circle--placing it alongside prior
expressions as simple personal testimony, with
no intent of affirming or negating other
speakers.
When people speak instrumentally, trying to get
leverage on each other, it is nearly impossible
to listen receptively to what another
says. We listen with half a mind, at best,
busily filtering what we hear so that we can
embrace what we agree with and reject the
rest. We listen, that is, with our
egos. But when people speak expressively,
we listen openly, with our souls. Now we
can attend fully to what is being said, knowing
that people are not trying to comment on us and
our truths but are making an honest effort to
express truths of their own.
As we grow in our ability to listen this way, we
give the gift of "hearing each other into
speech." As our listening
becomes more open--and speakers start to trust
that they are being heard by people whose only
desire is to make it safe for everyone to tell
the truth--their speaking becomes more
open as well.
Like every gift given, this one returns as a
gift to the giver: when we learn how to
listen more deeply to others, we can listen more
deeply to ourselves. This may be the most
important result of the unconventional speaking
and listening that go on in a circle of trust.
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Is it the ambition of your life to accumulate great
wealth, and thus to acquire a great name and along with it
happiness and satisfaction?Then remember that whether these will come to you
will depend entirely upon the use and disposition you make
of your wealth. If
you regard it as a private trust to be used for the
highest good of mankind, then well and good, these will
come to you. If
your object, however, is to pile it up, to hoard it, then
neither will come; and you will find it a life as
unsatisfactory as one can live. There
is, there can be, no greatness in things, in material
things, of themselves. The
greatness is determined entirely by the use and
disposition made of them. The
greatest greatness and the only true greatness in the
world is unselfish love and service and self-devotion to
one's fellow-man.
Look at the matter carefully, and tell me candidly if
there can be anything more foolish than a man spending all
the days of his life piling up and hoarding money, too
mean and too stingy to use any but what is absolutely
necessary, accumulating many times more than he can
possibly ever use, always eager for more, growing still
more eager and grasping the nearer he comes to life's end,
then lying down, dying, and leaving it. It
seems to me about as sensible for a man to have as the
great aim and ambition of life the piling up of an immense
pile of old iron in the middle of a large field, and
sitting on it day after day because he is so wedded to it
that it has become a part of his life and lest a fragment
disappear, denying himself and those around him many of
the things that go to make life valuable and pleasant, and
finally dying there, himself, the soul, so dwarfed and so
stunted that he has really a hard time to make his way out
of the miserable old body. There
is not such a great difference, if you will think of it
carefully, one a pile of old iron, the other a pile of
gold or silver, but all belonging to the same general
class.
It is a great law of our being that we become like those
things we contemplate. If
we contemplate those that are true and noble and
elevating, we grow in the likeness of these. If
we contemplate merely material things, as gold or silver
or copper or iron, our souls, our natures, and even our
faces become like them, hard and flinty, robbed of their
finer and better and grander qualities. Call
to mind the person or picture of the miser, and you will
quickly see that this is true. Merely
nature's great law. He
thought he was going to be a master: he
finds himself the slave. Instead
of possessing his wealth, his wealth possesses him. How
often have I seen persons of nearly or quite this kind! Some
can be found almost anywhere. You
can call to mind a few, perhaps many.
During the past two or three years, two well-known
millionaires in the United States, millionaires many times
over, have died. The
one started into life with the idea of acquiring a great
name by accumulating great wealth. These
two things he had in mind—self and great wealth. And,
as he went on, he gradually became so that he could see
nothing but these. The
greed for gain soon made him more and more the slave; and
he, knowing nothing other than obedience to his master,
piled and accumulated and hoarded, and after spending all
his days thus, he then lay down and died, taking not so
much as one little, little penny with him, only a soul
dwarfed compared to what it otherwise might have been. For
it might have been the soul of a royal master instead of
that of an abject slave.
The papers noted his death with seldom even a single word
of praise. It
was regretted by few, and he was mourned by still fewer. And
even at his death he was spoken of by thousands in words
far from complimentary, all uniting in saying what he
might have been and done, what a tremendous power for
good, how he might have been loved and honoured during his
life, and at death mourned and blessed by the entire
nation, the entire world. A
pitiable sight, indeed, to see a human mind, a human soul,
thus voluntarily enslave itself for a few temporary pieces
of metal.
The other started into life with the principle that a
man's success is to be measured by his direct usefulness
to his fellow-men, to the world in which he lives, and by
this alone; that private wealth is merely a private trust
to be used for the highest good of mankind. Under
the benign influences of this mighty principle of service,
we see him great, influential, wealthy; his whole nature
expanding, himself growing large-hearted, generous,
magnanimous, serving his State, his country, his
fellow-man, writing his name on the hearts of all he comes
in contact with, so that his name is never thought of by
them without feelings of gratitude and praise.
Then as the chief service to his fellow-man, next to his
own personal influence and example, he uses his vast
fortune, this vast private trust, for the founding and
endowing of a great institution of learning, using his
splendid business capacities in its organization, having
uppermost in mind in its building that young men and young
women may there have every advantage at the least possible
expense, to fit themselves in turn for the greatest direct
usefulness to their fellow-man while they live in the
world.
In the midst of these activities the news comes of his
death. Many
hearts now are sad. The
true, large-hearted, sympathizing friend, the servant of
rich and poor alike, has gone away. Countless
numbers whom he had befriended encouraged, helped, and
served bless his name, and give thanks that such a life
has been lived. His
own great State rises up as his pall-bearers, while the
entire nation acts as honorary pall-bearers. Who
can estimate the influence of a life such as this? But
it cannot be estimated; for it will flow from the ones
personally influenced to others, and through them to
others throughout eternity. He
alone who in His righteous balance weighs each human act
can estimate it. And
his final munificent gift to mankind will make his name
remembered and honoured and blessed long after the
accumulations of mere plutocrats are scattered and mankind
forgets that they have ever lived.
Then have as your object the accumulation of great wealth
if you choose; but bear in mind that, unless you are able
to see beyond self, it will make you not great, but small,
and you will rob life of the finer and better things in
it. If, on the
other hand, you are guided by the principle that private
wealth is but a private trust, and that direct usefulness
or service to mankind is the only real measure of true
greatness, and bring your life into harmony with it, then
you will become, and will be counted, great; and with it
will come that rich joy and happiness and satisfaction
that always accompanies a life of true service, and
therefore the best and truest life.
One can never afford to forget that personality, life, and
character, that there may be the greatest service, are the
chief things, and wealth merely the incident. Nor
can one afford to be among those who are too mean, too
small, or too stingy to invest in anything that will grow
and increase these.
Living
Life Fully, the e-zine
exists to try to provide for visitors of the world wide web a
place
of growth, peace, inspiration, and encouragement. Our
articles
are presented as thoughts of the authors--by no means do
we
mean to present them as ways that anyone has to live
life. Take
from them what you will, and disagree with
whatever you disagree
with--just know that they'll be here for you
each week.
From quiet
homes and first beginning,
Out to the undiscovered ends,
There's nothing worth the wear of winning,
But laughter and the love of friends.
Hillaire Belloc
Letting Go of
Holding On
I hold on to lots of stupid
things. Sometimes it's resentment, sometimes it's a CD that
I never listen to, sometimes it's the hope of something that I
think may happen, but that I know won't. I have some
theories about why I do this, but there are times when theories
about why really aren't important, and it's more important to look
at the behavior itself and think about what I can or should do to
let go of my behavior of holding on to things. It's an
interesting concept: I want to let go of my tendency to not
let go. It sounds like quite a challenge, doesn't it?
Why do we not let go of things? I've done a lot of reading
on the topic, and one of the common ideas is that the things that
we hold on to help us to feel safe, help us to feel a sense of
security and consistency. What we know is comfortable, and
what we don't know is scary. Even if what we know is
damaging or destructive, it's somehow preferable to something
that's unsure and possibly negative. How many people hold on
to destructive relationships because they're afraid of being
alone? For some reason, they see being alone as the only
possible outcome of ending the relationship--not getting involved
in a much more positive and fulfilling relationship. So they
hold on to what they have, refusing to let it go.
And they don't even consider for a second that being alone for a
certain amount of time might be the best thing to happen to them.
There
are things that we never want to let go
of, people we
never want to leave behind.
But keep in mind that
letting go isn’t the end
of the world; it’s the
beginning of a new life.
unattributed
One of the most
fascinating things that we tend to not want to let
go of is a belief. Once we start to believe
something, it seems to get so completely ingrained
in our psyches that we think that letting it go will
permanently damage us somehow. We may believe
that a certain person is dishonest, and even when
we're faced with evidence that the person is,
indeed, very honest, we can hold on to our lack of
trust in that person for a very long time. How
many people believe that the people in their choice
of political party are the only people who can and
should be trusted, the only people who actually tell
the truth? And no matter what evidence they
see that their beliefs are inaccurate, they still
cling to their loyalty because they simply don't
know how to go about changing their beliefs without
damaging themselves or their view of reality.
And one of the questions that we must ask ourselves
and answer very clearly is this: Where did our
beliefs come from? Because many of our beliefs
were passed on to us from other people, especially
our parents and other relatives. Are these
beliefs authentic? How many people in the past
went through life as racists because they learned
from their parents that people of other races were
inferior? How many of us go through life
thinking of ourselves as inferior because someone
convinced us when we were young that we weren't
"good enough"? And how many of us
have simply adopted the same religious and spiritual
beliefs as our parents because we've never really
taken the time to consider them and decide whether
or not we believe the same things?
Who you are now is a result to a great extent of
your beliefs. If I believe that I'm meant to
live in poverty, then guess what? If I believe
that I deserve the very best and I'm not willing to
settle for less, then guess what? It's
important that we examine our beliefs and make sure
that they serve us and that they're authentically
ours, and not just beliefs that we've borrowed from
someone else. And if they have been borrowed,
then perhaps it's time we let them go.
We must learn to let go, to give up,
to make room for the
things we have prayed for and
desired.
Charles Fillmore
There are many
other things that we need to let go of if we're
going to find our potential in life. One of
the most important things for me, and something that
I still have great problems with, is letting go of
expectations of others. This is particularly
difficult for me because I'm a teacher, and one of
the basic elements of our job is that we have
expectations of students. In fact, it's a
legally required set of expectations that students
have to meet on their standardized tests. But
there's a lot to be said for meeting students at
their own level, and trying to help them to grow
from there rather than trying to immediately make
them able to reach the state's expectations.
Sometimes we also need to let go of some of our
material things, especially if they're holding us
back. I've known people who are so wrapped up
in certain things that they spend most of their
families' money on cars, on guns, on sports
paraphernalia--you name it, and there's some sort of
want or need that most of us could start to let go
of in our lives. In my case, for example, I
think I could let go of my need to stockpile food in
the pantry. The need seems to come from my
younger years, when we often didn't have anything to
eat for a few days before the paycheck came because
the money was spent on drinking. But there is
no drinking as a part of my life now, and there
never has been, so if I let go of my need to
stockpile food, I think I'd be okay.
Just try convincing my brain of that, though.
There have been times in my life when I've had to
let go of certain friendships, for they've been
destructive rather than helpful. One recurring
theme among people who write about letting go seems
to be that when we let go of one thing, we make room
for something else. Letting go of a
destructive relationship frees up time for us to
pursue positive relationships, or even to simply do
more things that we love doing without necessarily
looking to replace the relationship itself. If
we let go of an expensive fixation, we can free up
money for more positive things, such as saving it
for retirement or using it to serve our communities.
Every
time you let go of something limiting,
you create space for something better.
In his novel A
Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens portrays
Marley's ghost as being attached to a large chain to
which also were attached cash boxes and padlocks and
deeds and other such things--the things that
enslaved him while he was alive, the things to which
he was completely attached and which he was never
willing to let go of. And now in the
afterlife, Marley is doomed to roam the world to try
to do the things he never was willing to do while
alive--because he was never willing to let go of his
love and his need for more and more money.
Let go. I can't even write these words and
read them without feeling a sense of relaxation, a
sense of peace. Let go of your fears.
Let go of your inauthentic needs and beliefs.
Allow your life to move forward without the chains
that currently shackle you. Let go of hatred
and resentment and judgment. Let go of the
words "I can't," for they hold you
back. Let go of the expectations of how things
should be--life turns out how it's meant to turn
out, and people do things that they do, and our
peace of mind should not depend on them turning out
any other way.
Let go. Relax. Do your best in all you
do, but attach yourself to very, very few things,
and you'll find that your life is simpler and
happier.
What if
we--just you and me--made a commitment to mindfully
integrate kindness into each and every day of our lives? We
would start a kindness revolution. Let's do it. Let's become
the proverbial pebbles in the pond and send out ripples of
kindness into the world each day. Those whose hearts are touched
by our kindness will, hopefully, be encouraged to pass it on,
and a revolution of much-needed kindness will have begun.
The average American sees just about as much of real life, of the things worth while, as
we see of the beautiful scenery through which we pass, driving
our cars at high speeds. Of course now and then we
divert our eyes long enough to get a hasty glimpse of a mountain peak or a beautiful valley or a gorgeous sunset, but the beautiful scenery, the details of the glorious flowers, are all lost upon
us.
All the wonderful details of little experiences, the fine courtesies, the exquisite things of life, the things that are worth while, are lost to us because we live at such a terrific pace.
We cannot take time to see things, to appreciate them, to enjoy them.
We do not take time to enjoy our friends. Our whole mind is anxiously focused upon the machine and the road in front of us.
We are like the men who carried the mails on the pony express.
We are borne along at a terrific speed, and we only dismount to mount again.
And so we go tearing through life forever changing from a tired to a fresh pony.
Bent forms, premature gray hair, heavy steps, and feverish haste are indicative of American life. Restlessness and discontent have become chronic, and are characteristic of our age and nation.
This straining, struggling, and striving is not life; it is a fever, a disease, well named
Americanitis. It bears no relation to happiness.
Our
inner child is still in there somewhere, aching to be let loose from
all the layers we’ve piled on over the years. Why not break
him or her out
for the day or even a moment? Be playful. Blow some
bubbles. Skip
around the block. Feel the freedom. Take fearlessness
out
for a test run. Let yourself have some fun.
Lynn Hasselberger
Yes, life
can be mysterious and confusing--but there's much of life that's
actually rather dependable and reliable. Some principles apply
to life in so many different contexts that they can truly be called
universal--and learning what they are and how to approach them and use
them can teach us some of the most important lessons that we've ever
learned.
My doctorate is in Teaching and Learning. I use it a lot when I
teach at school, but I also do my best to apply what I've learned to
the life I'm living, and to observe how others live their lives.
What makes them happy or unhappy, stressed or peaceful, selfish or
generous, compassionate or arrogant? In this book, I've done my
best to pass on to you what I've learned from people in my life,
writers whose works I've read, and stories that I've heard.
Perhaps these principles can be a positive part of your life, too! Universal Principles of Living Life Fully. Awareness of
these principles can explain a lot and take much of the frustration
out of the lives we lead.
™
