Engaged Spirituality & Mystic Activism

'Culture of Urgency' is an Empathy Killer

Most of us have heard it, probably more than once. And we've surely felt it, and been caught up in it at some point. Or perhaps we're still caught up.

I remember that, when I first became aware of the 'Culture of Urgency' that I'd been entranced by, I was consulting on several change-management communication projects, to several different large-sized organizations.

One was a healthcare system; all had corporate or organizational cultures that emphasized, or perhaps idolized, 'urgency'.

As I conducted a wide variety of conversations with people throughout the organizations, it also became clear that the organizations of 'urgency' had something else in common: a culture with norms of rudeness, curtness, brusqueness, and high levels of stress and problematic communication.

We might also notice this in urban areas, in which a fast-paced culture seems inevitably paired with incidences of 'road rage', rudeness, disconnection, coldness, or observations such as people stepping over persons slumped against buildings, without a so much as a glance.

In San Francisco during the dot-com invasion of the late-90s and early 2000s, longer-term residents of the City noticed that, as the culture was permeated by people flocking in for the 'get rich quick' technology boom, those less-civil observances became more and more the norm.

For example, San Francisco was awarded the distinction of having one of the highest levels of pedestrian injuries, because people were more routinely rolling through stop signs or red lights and hitting pedestrians.

These observations, as it turns out, are not unusual.

Research by people such as Daniel Goleman, author of the book Emotional Intelligence, indicates a connection between empathy and compassion and our ability to be present and aware enough to choose them.

The faster the pace, the more distracted or in a hurry we are, the less we're aware in the moment, and the less we choose our innate capacity to empathize or be compassionat, or to even be more skillful.

Perhaps this is why civilizations, as they became more industrialized, urbanized, automated, and high-tech, may also seem to be, upon study, more brutal or less compassionate.

It would be interesting to delve further, but from the information available, it's at the very least a fair question. Goleman, in a TED talk, emphasizes that all individuals have the capacity for empathy and compassionate.

We are innately 'wired' or created to connect with and empathize, and from that sense of connection and empathy choose a compassionate, altruistic action or response.

When we do things that help us to slow down, center ourselves, be more present, pay closer attention, we are more likely to act from this innate capacity for connection, empathy, compassion, and loving kindness.

Spiritual traditions have historically emphasized practices such as contemplation, presence, attention, prayer, and meditation. There are some philosophical traditions that have emphasized the same, though in a non-spiritual context.

Each of those helps us to disengage from our culture-induced (and well-ingrained and reinforced) addiction to urgency, to speed, and perhaps the adrenalin addiction that accompanies with it.

Practices that help us to slow down also help us to detox, and by doing so, re-engage with our innately 'Divine' qualities, or, as Abraham Lincoln put it, the better angels of our nature. More recent research shows that such practices strengthen our intuition, creativity, inspiration, and other highly valuable 'right-brain' or Feminine capacities.

Given the current state of things, where the costs of our speed addictions and cultural idolatry of 'urgency' are horribly evident, what used to be 'a luxury' or 'a waste of time' -- through the lens of our addiction to urgency -- has now become essential not only to the better angels of our nature, but to the wellbeing of Mother Earth, Gaia, and all of us who are supported by her.

Giving our attention to those practices and ways of being that help us to slow down, and approach our 'doings' in this way, is a great way to allot our energy, time, and attention.

So don't just do something, sit there. Go slowly, and notice.

Blessings,

Jamie

 

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To listen in and watch Daniel Goleman's TED talk, follow the link.

Image Credits: Image # 1 by Robert S. Donovan and 'Bright Atlanta' by Nrbelex, both from Spiral Gallery Creative Commons; a personal photo from Aqua Sulis in Bath, England; Kwan Yin by an unknown artist (the search continues!).

How can you tell?

This blog entry is an updated version of a post from early February 2008, and I thought of it again this morning . The Hafiz quote & the wisdom it conveys? Timeless.

Often, I'll hear from people who have a deep yearning for a way of being and doing and living that feels more heart-centered and soul-aligned.

All of us, at some point or another -- and perhaps more often than that -- feel separated from our inner-guidance, or guiding star.

And even if we think we 'know the answer' intellectually, sometimes (maybe even 'often'), what we think we know leads us away from our joy and 'heart-soul' path.

What we 'think' is often an inheritance from a culture in which the intellect has for too long presided without connection to (and thus the deeper wisdom of) body, spirit, soul, or wisdom.

I remember seeing a greeting card -- and later had it on a magnet on my fridge -- that said, "Don't trust anything you think."

So if we can't always (or even often) trust our mind's 'old knowing' -- that ingrained, habitual pattern of judging and deciding -- how can we know what choice, direction, action, or inaction is truly right for us?

This is different than knowing what will conform to the cultural status quo. Big difference, particularly as the energies of transformation bathe our Earth (and our minds and hearts, too).

In early 2008, while visiting Ithaca (N.Y.), I saw a quote from the Sufi poet and mystic, Hafiz.

It has, in the days and now several years since, proved a reliable guide and practice for discerning the path or option that is in alignment with my heart and wisdom, versus that of 'old mind'.

When I remember it, that is. And even then, I appreciate the reminder.

"What is real, what is unreal?

That which turns up the corners

of your mouth, trust that.

~ Hafiz

That which turns up the corners of your mouth, trust that.

Nothing else -- whether we have been taught to perceive it as 'real' or as 'unreal' -- can be truly reliable without a confirming sense from our own intuition and wisdom, which often sends us signals from (in!) our body.

If the corners of our mouths are truly and spontaneously 'turning up', and if we practice following this spontaneous response into our bodies and feel it deeply, we'll feel that the 'smile' reaches outward from our core, our hearts, and it feels that every cell in our body is smiling.

And so the corners of our mouths turn up.

This 'turning up', smiling inwardly and outwardly, may feel gentle, passionate, energetic, or quiet, but at its source, there is joy and that joy guides us.

[Take a look at other ways to connect more deeply to your Inner Wisdom and knowing through the Feminine Mojo Mystery School and upcoming telecourses and programs.]

Lots of love,
Jamie

Jamie Walters is an energy whisperer and transformation doula, and founder & creatrix of Ivy Sea and The Feminine Mojo Projects. A respected horizon-walker, she is a guide for humane business, right livelihood, and engaged or embodied spirituality -- including the embodiment and expression of the Divine Feminine, and a 'reconnection' to your Divine Spark.

Image Credits: Smiling kitten from Last.fm; Smiling girl from Association of Catholic Women Bloggers post.

Stillness

In contemporary times, the pace of daily life is frenetic, magnified by constant 'doing' and never-ending influx of noise from cars, televisions, radios, iPods, cell phones, and the various other machines that are part of our lives.

This 'noise' doesn't just make its way into our hearing, but also our sensing and feeling -- 'noise' is vibration.

As bodies and souls show the increasing fatigue of perpetual motion, noise, and agitation -- with increased rates of illness, depression, fatigue, and so on -- many people feel a deep, unheard and unanswered yearning for quiet, ease, grace, and joy; they feel a deep need to slow down and soothe battered nervous systems.

Stillness is the only pathway to what we seek, both in terms of what our bodies, minds and souls crave, and also the creative perceptions and approaches needed to resolve modern-day problems that threaten to overwhelm us. Stillness is the doorway.

Yet for many, the ability to settle into stillness seems impossible, so acclimated are they to constant sensory stimulation and mental chatter, and so out-of-touch with the age-old Wisdom and practice of how to find the harmony and restful oasis that is always at our center.

To restore our familiarity with the pathway to stillness becomes a discipline requiring daily practice, and though one can feel the benefit almost instantly, it is not a case of instant gratification or 'quick pill' to stillness.

For the first time in many years, I find myself in New York at the Winter Solstice, and for the first snows of the season.

In San Francisco, where I've lived for many years, the incoming familiarity of thick fog brings with it a quietness and a sense of stillness. Here in New York, the snow brings a similar and even deeper stillness. Watching it fall gently and almost silently -- it does make sound for those who listen carefully -- becomes a meditation in and of itself, quieting and slowing and soothing the system, and clearing the way for connection with Higher Guidance and the soul's voice.

When the snow falls heavily, even those who most resist slowing down must bow to Nature or pay more immediate consequences. The roads become slick, and drivers must become more mindful and cautious; visibility decreases, so one's field of vision becomes by necessity shortened. Upon arriving to one's destination, one is more grateful for having arrived safely.

And in the New York Winter, one's body acclimates more readily to circadian rhythms, our bodies and minds moving with the arriving or receding light into wakefulness or a drawing inward. We want to slow down; we want to go inward, though this inclination often collides with and deeply challenges our programmed addiction to stimulation.

A spiritual mentor and wise woman I interviewed for a Feminine Wisdom project I'm researching said to me, "I've learned that if I don't make room for stillness, it will come looking for me."

Many of us have experienced this: We ignore the voice of our soul calling us inward, inviting us to slow down and get still and listen, and we find ourselves ill, or clumsily injuring ourselves, and stillness finds us.

Of course, many of us protest, citing the necessity of our very busy, frenzied lives.

Yet even in the speaking of it, we know it's not true. We know that it's our 'busyddiction' talking, and what's really showing itself is a lack of discernment, of mindfulness, and of real freedom from the voices of culture. We could clear the clutter, prune the to-do's, slow down and get more still.

To find the inner stillness we seek, we have to break our addictions to speed, stuff, stimulation, and gadgets, and own up to our responsibility for our wellness and the quality of our lives first.

Ultimately, as has been the case for millennia, it is in and through stillness that we find Wisdom and a calm center from which to more mindfully, joyfully, and skillfully move along with the comings and goings, doings and beings of our lives.

In stillness, a new wealth and richness becomes apparent in our lives. We hear our own song, and sense the songs of others, attuning to One great song.

In Joy,

Jamie

 

* For additional musings on Stillness, read my blog entry and review of Into Great Silence, the wonderful documentary.

Making Silk Purses From Sow's Ears

Earlier this week, one of my anam cara (soul friends) and I were enjoying a telephone catch-up, as we often do, and Carmina said, "Well, Jamie, if anyone can make a silk purse from a sow's ear, it's you." We both had a good laugh over that one.

I appreciated the good-humored reminder, though, that it's a practice -- a form of 'engaged spirituality', perhaps -- to look for the silk purse in the sow's ear, or to be open to the alchemy that transforms something that is seemingly tough or undesirable into something fine, meaningful, and rewarding.

As the proverbial wisdom goes, we don't always (or even often) have a choice in some of the circumstances and events that come into our experience, but we can choose what we ultimately make of them.

Wishing you a magical day of finding silk purses.

With Joy,
Jamie

p.s. - For those of you who enjoyed knowing the derivation of such sayings -- like 'making a silk purse from a sow's ear' -- the phrase 'sow's ear' derived from the French word, sousier, which meant 'purse', and for peasants, a sousier would be made of rough, humble cloth, made with what was available to serve a practical purpose. Combining (or finding) beauty in something 'practical' is a worthy art!

Into Great Silence

At the suggestion of a spiritual mentor, I placed an advance-order for the U.S. release of the DVD of Into Great Silence, a stunning and affecting documentary Philip Groning, about a Carthusian Grande Chartreuse monastery located in the French Alps.

It's an amazing film, and a revealing experience.

According to the summary provided by Zeitgeist FIlms, it was Groning's intention to 'embody a monastery, rather than simply depict one' and to provide viewers with a 'total immersion into the hush of monastic life'.

The film succeeds fantastically on both accounts. The film's 'soundtrack' features only the sounds of Nature, the weather, the chanting of the monks, and the sounds of a more hushed, slowed daily life.

Only on rare occasions is conversation heard, and rarely if ever -- based on the film -- do the sounds of modern technology intrude.

To allow filming with minimal disruption, filmmaker Groning was invited to do the documentary without a crew and using only the natural lightning and candle light of the monastery, which ends up being its own special effect.

While watching the film, which is 160 minutes or so long (and worth every second), I noticed first a curiosity that only increased.

What sort of person is not only drawn to, but also suited for, this life of utter simplicity, mindfulness, and silence? What sort of person is of a constitution where deep listening, stillness, and sensing the Presence of God is of greater allure than all of the modern temptations, or even just the genuine pleasure of connecting through a dialogue with other people?

I watched with heart-felt interest in learning more about this unusual group of men.

And as I watched, I noticed another sensation rising into my awareness -- my own impatience and preference for motion. I noticed how much I genuinely resist stillness, not only because I tend to be kinesthetic -- where movement helps one think and can be meditation in and of itself -- but because the Presence that seeks me can often be found most abundantly and clearly in stillness.

I notice that I resist what I'm most called to, particularly when it runs so counter the way of the dominant culture. A

nd I also noticed that, as I stayed with the film, despite my near-overwhelming desire to fidget, move about, and distract myself, I found myself feeling increasingly still within, seduced by the Presence found only through that sort of stillness, listening, and mindfulness.

The effects of immersing through the documentary into a Carthusian silence and simplicity stayed with me -- indeed, grew -- well after the film ended.

Into Great Silence offered a powerful reminder of the vital and essential nature of stillness, simplicity, and devotion for the wellbeing of mind, body, and soul, and just how much most of us have become separated from that, with often unhealthy or even tragic consequences.

Along with many others, I highly recommend Into Great Silence, both as a genuinely beautiful documentary and as a meditation and prayer in itself.

Learn more about Into Great Silence at Zeitgeist Films.

Love,

Jamie

Everyday perspective shifters

Sometime last year, as I was walking in my neighborhood here in San Francisco, a crowded tour bus passed by on its way to Land's End, where the City meets the Pacific Ocean. San Francisco is a popular tourist destination, so the sight of tour buses is a common one. What was less common about this particular 'sighting' was the thought that occurred to me as it passed.

I stood to cross the street, and the individual men and women on the tour bus were clearly visible through the windows. I was suddenly reminded of similar buses that carry people through safaris or animal theme parks, with those on the buses observing (from a safe distance) the native animal populations in their natural environments. And here I and my neighbors were, 'native species' being observed going about our business in our natural environment, just like other animals in 'safari zones'!

I could almost hear the conversations on the bus. "Oh, look at its coat! What's it eating? What do they do, these San Franciscans?"

It was both a humbling and a hilarious thought, and I still smile when the tour buses pass by. But it's also a reminder that observation from 'safe distances' is very different from experiencing a place by being on one's feet, immersed it in, so that you can really get the energy, feel, sounds and smells of a place -- so that you can marinate in and be transformed a bit by the newness.

So much of what we do in our culture is 'observe from a distance,' live vicariously through something or someone else, or close ourselves off from real interaction and experience, so that we are, as Earl Shorris has written, "a nation of lonely molecules." And yet we yearn for connection; we yearn to transcend or move through the fears of diving in and swimming in the great sea of place, space, experience, and relationships.

Some do, and some don the earbuds or head phones, or anesthetize with the television and other delivery vehicles for the mass hallucination -- what Indigenous cultures call 'the dream of the North.' But awaken we must, and we will, individually and collectively, as the old dream falls to pieces and a new dream awaits our creation.

Perhaps then, in the new dream, with the hypnotic spell of separation broken, we'll pass by the bus, and experience the places along the way on foot, with hearts open. The nation of lonely molecules realized that it is One.

Until later...
Jamie

Engaging in the Great Work

I was first introduced to the concept of "the Great Work" when reading an obituary for Kathleen Raine in 2003. The obit was authored by H.R.H. Charles, Prince of Wales, and published in Resurgence Magazine.

Deeply moved by the eloquent words of Prince Charles, I followed my interest in both Raine and "the Great Work," which led me to Thomas Berry, and others who are committed to some form of Great Work.

The Great Work refers to taking proactive and intentional right action to foster the transformation from the old/current world view into a new one that is more fully honoring of the earth and all beings.

There are many aspects that contribute to this Great Work, and to seeding and ushering in the new paradigm.

Perhaps most challenging of all is the inner work required if we're to 'be the change we wish to see in the world,' because what we see around us reflects what's going on within us.

Here are several links if you want to follow the thread into some inspiring and soul- and thought-stirring reading:

• Awakening to our Role in the Great Work

• Thomas Berry's "earth spirituality" and "the Great Work", an article by Andrew Angyal

• The Temenos Academy (founded by IKathleen Raine)

• Celebrating the Life of Kathleen Raine (from Resurgence Magazine)

There are other perspectives on how the Great Work might be defined, and how one's commitment to it might be shaped or expressed. But always, like all that is rooted in the Universal principles of Love and Wisdom, there are common threads woven through any seeming differences.

As many of us know, it's a work in progress, as is our part in it.

Until next time ...

Jamie