For a woman deeply committed to partnership, too often I unsheathe my trusty, time-worn sword before I realize I’m in the middle of a fight with a colleague.
In the moment that I grasp that sword’s hilt, the steam that’s been building (unnoticed) inside me jumps into action. An unconscious power is thrown behind my conviction that my fight is for integrity, logic and truth. Instantly, my thinking is sharp and very focused preparing arguments and counter arguments that feel brilliant … but, I realize later, are often off the mark.
History has shown me over and over again that my sword and I too often confuse the issue since, with sword in hand, I almost never access my deeper knowing in the moment. Razor sharp focus narrows my thoughts and shoves my broad thinking, emotions and informative bodily rumblings out of sight.
The problem is that by the time I reach for my sword, my thinking is already calculating … and muddled. Now, instead of trying to change things in the midst of a fight, I am beginning to catch those early moments before I’m off and running—those moments when it is easier to make a different choice.
At the threshold just before I most want to jump into action, I am hearing wisdom call me to stop and notice. To give my feelings time to become clear. To scan my body to see if she is trying to give me messages in her own quiet (or bold) way. To soften and broaden my thinking. I’ve learned that while I’m well skilled at jumping into over-focused analysis, that pathway in an intense moment always leads to a very narrow thinking.
I know I need to stop. Slow down. Let my inner wholeness speak.
As so often happens, life quickly brought me an opportunity to practice this budding skill. This particular “moment” had a few days of buildup. I thought the task my colleague agreed to do would be done in a day or two, but four days later … still nothing. Should I prompt him? Should I trust and wait? I wrote texts and erased them. I got mad at myself because I was “obsessing” about what his to-do list—and labeled it as my over controlling tendency. My anger bubbled at myself. My anger bubbled at him. Two directional anger is never good.
The steam building inside erupted into anger when I got an email from the same colleague proposing that I take care of a certain matter. Frustrated as I was, I knew that his suggestion might be the best plan. I also knew that I would need to calm down and ponder the issue to see if I shared his perspective or had a different one. My right hand twitched for my sword.
This time, though, instead of unsheathing my sword, I picked up the phone and called LaVerne, a friend and colleague in our work centered around how to “risk being different” than old entrenched habits in ourselves and our culture.* She encouraged me to stay with my feeling of being pissed off (my gateway emotion to every fight). To be out loud with her. To stay with the feelings and not slip into problem solving or understanding or analysis. Hard as that was for me to do, I stayed with my anger. Noticed my tightening chest and aching head.
Slowly sadness peeked out. What was that about? As I sat with the sadness, I realized that how often I turn my judgment of others onto myself. In my self-constructed sense of fairness, when I am angry, I automatically begin to scan for what I have done wrong too. Being angry in two directions only clouds my sight more and is exhausting.
On the phone, I sat with these feelings, speaking about what I was experiencing. My emotions began to settle. Surprisingly quickly, I knew the next step I needed to take: Schedule a call with all three of us on the team. Share my own experience of these two incidents with my colleagues. Share what I know about how I was in both situations. And listen. Really listen.
The three of us have worked hard on our partnership. Because of this, I was able to speak what was true for me, and what I needed in our working together. Others did the same. We didn’t reach any bold revelations, but our conversation was one more step in strengthening our partnership.
I am learning to honor my emotions and to be clear what I expect from partners. I witnessed how easily I could envision an alternative action, once I sat with my feelings and began to access all of my knowing. For my own movement, I am continuing to dive deeper into my search to understand why I have such a strong reaction to what feels like pronouncements about how something should be done.
We all have unique sight and insight. The more I’ve begun to honor my own sight, the worse it feels when I barrel over it with my “righteous” battling.
How do I proceed, knowing I’m not naturally a calm easy-
going person? Actually, I am an “Eight-eyed Steam Girl” with a fire that burns deep inside my bones. Whether I like it or not, when that fire touches my watery emotions, steam blasts through me. I feel injustice and inequity deeply, overwhelmed with things other’s may see as trivial.
No wonder I’ve walked through life ready to unsheathe my old sword when my inner steam builds up pressure!
I’m realizing that I’ve been reaching for the wrong sword—the old one at the beck-and-call of my reactive over-focused intellect. I am turning to the spirit sword of discernment that holds clarifying power, that paradox of vulnerability and strength. Its precision of use flows from discernment is only available when I can consciously access all parts of my wisdom and sight. It is becoming my trustworthy new sword of choice.
One of the best things about growing older is that I no longer have the energy to keep doing things the hard and circuitous way. I am learning the limits of my anger-fueled analysis and understanding the depth of my wisdom. In partnership with others.
I am ready to let go of my old, rusty sword, knowing that my sword of discernment is at the ready when I slow down and wait.
*The Vision statement of Be Present, Inc. begins with “We are a diverse network of people willing to risk being different with one another, our families, communities, workplaces and organizations…” It is a risk, and I’m grateful for the risks all three colleagues mentioned in this blog are willing to take together.
Drawing is by Khara Scott-Bey, from Big Topics at Midnight, adapted slightly.