UNTIL THE COWS COME HOME

I am humming along these days, things unfolding in beautiful and harmonious ways. I also have this little voice that intrudes, “Are we there yet?”

This past Saturday, I was delighted when I emptied half my clothes closet onto my bed. This spontaneous impulse, formerly stifled, was set free. “Clothes are on the bed; organization’s in the house! Yippee!” I was happy, just BEING, sorting clothes by colors, creating order and space.

In the last phase of organizing, appreciating color coordination, this little voice said, “Yes, but what about Linked In? What about organizing the dresser drawers? What about that call you need to make?”

While it sounded like a dentist drilling inside my mouth, it was not an inner critic but a child’s whine.

I explored deeper. This impulse sabotages my happiness sometimes. She speaks to me of TO DO LISTS. She mistrusts “being in the now”.

I started WORKING early in life, putting out family fires. My poor amygdala! http://drbenkim.com/overcome-chronic-fear-anxiety.html  It’s Horse Sentinel Syndrome, scanning horizons for danger. 

In equine-guided leadership, we teach that horses are herd and prey animals. As a herd they move together, promising greater safety from predators. Often in herd dynamics there is a lead mare who will let the others know when to stay and when to move. 

There is also a horse who stays outside this herd cluster. This sentinel is in the role of scanning the horizons, noting if things are safe. It's the sentinel's job to also notice if a coyote is on a hill. The sentinel then communicates this danger with the lead mare and the other horses so that the herd can move to safety.

On a recent walk, I interviewed my inner child using a Psychosynthesis educational model that helps one have detachment to view various concerns and conflicts. http://www.aliharrison.com/psychosynthesis/Subpersonalities.html Turns out, this aspect of my identity needs my help to STOP working all the time! She’s perpetually on duty. She needs to trust “the moment, this now.” And know that it’s okay to be happy.

As I contact her, cows come into view.

From afar, one cow looks deeply into my eyes. I look back into hers. My heart quiets; my breath slows down. She is showing me what BEING looks like. This cow contentedly is, well, chewing on her cud. I hear her message.

“Do you understand? What I’m doing is as important as you working with animal stewards, or cleaning out your desk. I’m lying down, chewing. I’m fulfilling my destiny.”

I listen. I walk slowly toward her. I feel this inner child soothed and grow quiet. Two cows further out walk over to the fence. I meet them. I don’t need to hand them grass or do anything. I just “be”. Curious, four other cows join us at the fence line. I am reminded of Carolyn Resnick’s blog about SHARING TERRITORY.  http://www.carolynresnickblog.com/good-vibrations-sharing-territory™/ It’s about being present, connected, not doing, Zen-like, "letting come".  http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/03/wu-wei.html

In inaction, I’m connected.  Another cow looks earnestly into my eyes. We stand close. I look into her large brown eyes. It’s the first time I’ve seen a cow. A veil drops; karla/soul meets cow/soul. I experience a profound peace. We are standing together in a field of love.

Later, I tell a friend about my Saturday interruption and what the cows just shared with me.

No slouch to inner development, Beth responds: “Karla, I believe all of us, as women, have these eternal lists that keep us from nurturing ourselves. We’re compulsive and keep working, scanning for others’ unmet needs. Our lists don’t let us rest. It’s why we don’t easily take care of what we need. Or take time to just be.”

Well, I’m no longer waiting until the cows come home. This moment, this blog, sharing territory with you and the cows is enough.

Do you have a never-ending list, Reader, or are you content to just be?

                                 

HOW TO BECOME A LEADER

As a child, I felt called to the Southwest. As a teen, I was selected to attend the Sangre de Cristo Mountains Girl Scout Roundup.

I was privileged to visit Bandelier Mountain beauty, Puye Cliff and Mesa Dwellings, the Santa Clara Pueblo, known as the Kha’p’oo Owinge of the Santa Clara people. In the first days, my heart heals.

We climb among ruins, mesas and kivas. Every pore of my being is satisfied. My eyes wide with vistas, mountain friendship, and ancestral whispers. It is the highlight of my journey.

Our time of beauty goes quickly; thick red rock colors enter my soul. I keep a pottery fragment on my Puja table. I carry a shard in my medicine pouch.

On the last night of our gathering, Girl Scout Executive officers arrive. That day we’re divided into groups of four, with little instruction, to trek the mountain and then return to base camp, sharing our leadership experience.

Nancy and I emerge as group leaders. We watch each other out of the corners of our eyes. Later, we whisper: “Do you know where we’re going?” “Nope, not a clue.” The other girls follow us, oblivious.

Nancy and I provide confidence through humor and encouragement. Five hours later, it’s clear we’re lost. Nancy sees a paved road. We laugh as we hop the fence to reach our destination. Until I spy the bull.

A shrill gasp catches the bull’s attention. Head down, he moves fast. We help each other over the barbed wired fencing, mere seconds from being gored.

In “never say never” leadership, Nancy and I wipe away sweat and blood and stick out our thumbs. We need directions. Ignored, we form a human chain across the road.

Instead of looping back to camp, we discover we’ve missed our trailhead. We came down on the wrong side of the mountain, miles from camp. It’s too late to double back. We ride in our rescuer’s truck bed, heaped with unmentionables. It’s another reason I became vegetarian. http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/07/confessions-of-vegetarian-day-i-heard.html

We arrive at camp, bloodied and hungry, our blouses ripped. Worried adults meet us. Realizing we’re not seriously injured, terse voices inform us we have fifteen minutes to put on clean dress attire. Adult leaders cast meaningful glances to Executive Officers; they glower at us.

Dauntless, we hatch a plan. In a huddle, we commit to the outrageous, hoping to not be kicked out. We quickly gather props and costumes. I pull my scout cap over my eyes. My shirt hangs out. Cindy wears her badge sash backwards over pajamas. We pull pockets inside out. We hold bug spray. Girls move away from us as we sit down for vespers.

After witnessing other girls’ somber portrayals, our foursome stands, heads held high, bumbling our way to the head of the campfire. With perfect authority, we parody our story, mocking our leadership. Nancy throws a shoe at a bug. Linda sits, arms crossed, back turned from the audience, refusing to move. We spray her with bug spray, yanking her up. We misquote Girl Scout slogans.

“A Girl Scout never prepares. She makes stuff up as she goes.”

Transformed as actors, we command amusement from girls and officials alike. Nancy and I act out our sham, leading the way, as more laughter erupts. With the “bull” onstage, we push and shove one another, climbing over imaginary barbed wire fencing. We bring the house down.

It’s my best leadership lesson: Situations pending disaster can shift through humor, honesty and engagement. I’m reminded of my last Equine Lesson, only days ago: There are no mistakes. Only learning.

So, Reader, what experience led you to greater authenticity and connection?

THIS IS THE BIGGEST ONE ON RECORD, FOLKS

Girl Scouts woke up early one morning in the Sangre De Cristo Mountains, giggling. We peeked out from collapsed tents, swept together in a heap from the flash flood. Rain drenched and breathless with laughter, we crawled out into thick mud.

On our travels to the Rio Grande, college friends and I encounter lightning ripping open the sky. Thunder crashed...lightshow and rumblings.

Later, we wended our way around a mountain bend in Mexico as donkeys grazed, our eyes meeting massive red rock vistas; until the snow came, stopping us in our tracks. We hovered outside, with no plan, just laughter. Later, someone says it was the first snow in 100 years!

In Gila, New Mexico, a flash flood pounded the road. We forded the stream. A gentleman later sits with us drinking coffee. “This is the worst storm we’ve had in fifty years. Glad you got across. You could have sunk, hydroplaned or blown out your carburetors. All the roads are down. Stay put!” Laughing, we found an abandoned shack. We holed up for about a week, hiking in between showers, waiting on the road to be dug out.

Stormy weather warnings came as we neared Death Valley. We’re treated, instead, to the first wildflowers in over 100 years.

Before I boarded my plane for Phoenix days ago, I drew angel cards: Creativity, Willingness, Play and Humor. Hmmm, good ones.

But I did not wake up laughing this past Monday at 3:00 am.

Thunder exploded. Lightning snatched my dreams. Puppy dog is plastered against my leg. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay, doggers,” I say to the dogs outside my bedroom door. But my thoughts aren’t quiet.

They said the storms are quick. Something isn’t right. Any doors blown open? How are the dogs? Horses? Friends? I can’t let the dogs out; the roof is metal. Might get struck by lightning.

I sat in my friends’ home, quieting my mind. Electric sky kept falling, thunder cracked. Sitting in their Great Room behind a solid wall of glass with no separation between the outside and inside. Nature invited herself in and she planned to stay.  

My thoughts return to horses. I can’t see them from here. I consider dashing to the barn. But what if I fall, or lightning strikes. Or the lights go out? What good am I, then?

I calm the dogs. I sense the horses are okay. I say mantrams and send love to each horse. I send love to the dogs. I send love to the storm, to Arizona, to all animals and people. I send love to my friends who are fast asleep, hearing only ocean waves as they drift. I let myself feel successful, having kept everyone safe.

I calm down. With lightning flashing and thunder bursting, I meditate and send out more love.

I confirm my intuition: flash flood warning in effect all day. I cuddle the dogs, sending out more love. I send love to the horse handlers, family and friends. Please keep everyone safe. In a momentary storm lull, I let the dogs out and visit the horses.

I remember what a mentor said about recent earthquakes and storms:

“If more people don't do the loving shift within themselves, the earth will move even more.

I visit the horses again, send love, give dog cookies and soon, I’m inundated with phone calls, emails, texts and Facebook messages.

Roads are down. Can you feed the horses? Special blends. Drat the phone went dead. Which bin?

Muddy dog walks, horsey visits, communications, a friend stops over. I finally breathe easy about 4:00 pm.

I had it right earlier: LAUGH. Let the tents fall; stay stuck in Gila. EVERYONE IS SAFE AND FED. Happy, I take all three dogs to swim and chase each other around the pool. Later, we do dog walks and a few more visits to the horses.

Good ol’ Southwest, never lets me down.

So, Reader, what adventure helped you weather the storms? And what loving shifts will you make for the good of all?

MONKS, MONKEYS AND REFUGE-THE JOURNEY BEGINS

It’s a longer distance from monks to monkeys than you think.

                                                                                      Karla Boyd

[The Buddha] tried to persuade [the monks] to live in peace, speaking out against
 disharmony again and again, but when he saw that there who were not responding,
 he decided to go to the forest.

                                                                                         Eknath Easwaran

Some of us are in a global renaissance of positive communication cultures aligned with harmonious actions.  AND more organizations need to “up” their commitment to providing leadership development to stakeholders. Individuals need to be groomed in good vibrations and how to let go of the muck. (http://namasteglobalvision.s3-website-us-east-1.amazonaws.com/NamasteDeclaringNewFuture-3%20copy.pdf)

Recently, I learned about organizations brewing trouble. The common theme was personal conflicts; some veiled and others, blatant and ambushing. Both styles were causing breakdown, one organization destroying its best leadership. It boiled down to a few things: unhealthy communication, team member disrespect and little personal leadership development.

In a recent blog post, FIRST, DO NO HARM: THE QUALITY OF CARE, (http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/08/first-do-no-harm-quality-of-care.html), I write about the Hippocratic oath. What would happen if OUR first order of business is “first, do no harm?” What if organizations invested in ALL stakeholders having leadership development? What if we became positive alignment organizations?

Meditation teacher Eknath Easwaran chronicles a story about the Buddha.[1] The Buddha goes into exile because the monks would not stop their bickering. I’m sure some of you can relate. The monks were miserable when the Buddha left.

The Buddha, however, has a marvelous time. An elephant, delighted to be with the Buddha, bows down in respect. After a bit, the elephant goes off in search of his friend, the monkey. They return with bananas, juicy mangos and leaves for the Buddha. In the evening, the elephant makes a bed of leaves for the Buddha and keeps watch over him.

Isn’t it wonderful when team members are aligned in harmony and flow? When that happens, ease and friendship show up. In our story, the monkey, elephant and the Buddha go to the river and play together for days, joyously happy. The monks however, lagging behind, are stuck in negativity and gloom.  

In Naked Liberty, Carolyn Resnick writes that wild horses taught her the value of leadership training:

Leadership behavior is a good thing when it supports the well-being of each individual and keeps the peace. I could see the dominant horses wanting to be led when Mustano led them back to their kinder ways and checked them for their bad behavior. Such leadership gives dominant horses security.[2] 

Completing our Buddha story, the monks realized that their disputes and negative minds drove away noble leadership. Ready to make a change, they asked the Buddha to return.

As the monks met the monkey and elephant, they discovered the meaning of respect. The monkey and elephant embodied love and honor for the Buddha. The monks saw the personal work they needed to do to align as a harmonious team–like the team that the elephant and monkey were.

People and organizations need coaching in order to manifest core values and visions. All need support and empowerment. Many require recovery from toxic cultures. The key ingredient to succeed? WILLINGNESS TO CHANGE.

Reader, what commitment will you make to personal leadership development? And has a horse, childhood dog or encounter with wildlife helped you become more loving?

[1] Essence of the Dhammapada: The Buddhist’s Call to Nirvana by Eknath Easwaran; Nilgiri Press, 2013

[2] Naked Liberty by Carolyn Resnick, Amigo Publications, Inc., 2005