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?

GETTING TO YES AND STAYING THERE!

How many of you have gone down a road so long that you think it’s your contribution?

As early as five years old, people asked if I could help with their problems. It wasn’t just children; it was adults, too. Later, I found careers that put this skill to use. One of my bosses once asked me if my being successful in resolving problems was because I wanted her job. Huh?

Yes, but, if you keep on doing the same thing, what do you get? In my case: More problems!

Luckily, what also came naturally was seeing the good in everyone. I see positive futures and how to get there. Mid-careers, I found my true calling as a leadership consultant.

Being asked to help others solve problems did not disappear overnight, and it kept negative world views operational. Leadership development sees what’s working in people and organizations. Helping others to solve problems keeps you seeing what’s wrong.

It took integrity, transformation, and the support of mentors and friends for me to quit this habit. I was like a worn out dog who had given birth to too many litters.

Appreciative Inquiry, a leadership model, has this saying: “What you appreciate, appreciates.” If you’re constantly available to help others solve problems, you’re calling in more problems. If you want peace, then appreciate the peace in the world. You need to "see" what you want and that allows you to build that on that foundation and move into that pathway.

If want more wild horses, elephants and chimpanzees roaming free, appreciate the ones that are. If you want people happy and well, see them happy and well. “What you appreciate, appreciates.”

I’m no longer available for problems. I work with colleagues and clients who say “yes” to living and building on their strengths. It’s a myth that negative images inspire people to fix stuff; it brings people down. Seeing what works inspires action.

Today, someone on Facebook posted a video of Ellen talking with Gladys from Austin, Texas. I laughed and laughed! http://youtu.be/-jeCL9f2NNI. We’re all Gladys; we want it both ways. We want the good stuff while we dabble in the dark and negative. And we lose out on free trips to the Ellen show. 

In my life and work, I’ve joined a myriad of Facebook positive voices that post positive media communications. We’re creating a vortex of good energy to dip into.

There are many doing this; https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=486122528080113 and https://www.facebook.com/iamlivingpositive/info are two. Namaste Global Vision also shares inspiration: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Namaste-Global-Vision/212980952072457

This past weekend, I heard some difficult and sad news. When I shared it with a mentor, she encouraged me to offer my joy in the next days and months. Intelligent lady. She knew I couldn’t dwell on this sadness and be able to shift into my joy.

Monday, I posted this on Facebook:

JOIN ME IN WRITING THIS FUN-LOVING "BLOG" ABOUT JOY AND HAPPINESS.

Two Words. I’ll start.

The next person adds two words.

It posted for three days with twelve contributors:

Me:   I Delight

Tamara:  In Animal’s

Wendy: Loving Expressions

Words: Begin Within

 Debbie: Sharing Gratitude

 Me: For Unseen

Castagne: Bubbles of Joy

Kim:  I Can't Imagine

 Sharon: Universal Peace

 Me: And Yet

Sabia: Love Reigns

  Ambika: Inviting You

Kim: To Feel

Sandy:  The Warmth

Kim: And Power

Merrilee: Of Kindness

Me: That Gives

Kim: Us EVERYTHING!!!! 

Reader, what are your two words? What shift did you make to a positive path?

CAMEL RIDE-“I’d Walk A Mile For A Camel”

Adam (aka Poncho later): Photo courtesy of Deb Mc Murray, Photographer

If you want to keep camels, have a big enough door. 

                                                       Afghan Proverb

The camel and his driver -- each has his own plan. 

                                                        African Proverb

I think compassion is all important. I carry a piece of rose quartz in my pocket 

that reminds me to take in everything, and give out everything, with compassion.

                                                     Tamara Nesbit

Destiny was calling. Namaste Global Vision’s mission is to enable animal stewards through our leadership coaching. I was off course in considering our non-profit directly assisting in an animal rescue. I called our other two founding members so we could consider the request.

“Here I am standing in the community kitchen,” I tell Art and Myron, “and one of the women asks if I will find Adam a home. I think about it. And then right after meditation, an ‘Aha’ comes. I do know someone to ask for help if we decide to take this on!”

Adam was in a midlife crisis during an economic slump. One of his humps was sagging. His current health and home were unstable. He used to be a photo celebrity; humans drove by singing, others sent wishes. Some offered connection and carrots at the fence. Eventually, even his goat friends could not cheer him.

After receiving the green light, I swallow hard. I call Adam’s owner and we talk for a very long time. Tentatively, I call Charley.

What happens next is camel magic, and phone calls that go flying.

“Mystic Moon passed away,” Charley tells me. “Many people wanted his stall. But I hung up a cross and prayed on it many times. I kept leaving it open for someone. I now know who! Thanks for calling.”

Charley knows about gentling. Gentling isn’t just for camels and horses; it’s for people too. Falling on hard times is hard. It’s not easy to let go of family, regardless of what wisdom says.

I’m reminded of “Heartland”, a thoughtful television show. “Second Chances” tells the story about Mr. Hanley’s neglecting his horses as he falls on hard times. Because of Amy’s dedication to helping the horses she ends up helping Mr. Hanley too. (http://www.amazon.com/Second-Chances/dp/B00F91RV0C)

Like with Mr. Hanley's horses, Adam's ranch life was precarious. His people were trying to make ends meet for hearth and ranch life. Sometimes, there were not enough resources for the animal's care. Adam was underweight. The authorities were coming around and that did not bode well for Adam. Negative thinking and despair don’t help. Destabilization invites a delicate situation. When breakdowns happen, it’s time for a change. (http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/02/crying-uncle-wayto-breakthrough-things.html) 

A delicate situation it was: “Yes, Adam can go. No, he can’t. Take the goats, too. No, it can’t work. Well, let’s try. Need more time.”

Charley, Myron and I chose peaceful negotiations and positive communication. Luckily, we had help. Adam received affection, support, treats and mantrams from a local spiritual community. Well-wishers had watched his growth from childhood, on. Deb, a photographer, sang to Adam every day on her way to work. We had all that good energy going for us.

Hours and hours of phone calls later, loading day came. Today was Adam’s turn for a camel ride. (http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/07/camel-ride-part-one.html) And Myron and Scotty will tell you they walked more than a mile for their camel as they loaded him into the trailer. Adam and his owners said a teary goodbye. Adam then rode off, away from northern California, down south to his new home.

Adam arrived at dawn on Charley’s birthday. Charley’s brother surprised everyone with a three-man Mariachi band who followed the trailer. Adam’s regal head nodded approval as the band played on. In that moment, Adam became Poncho as his resolution to mid-life crisis was underway.

I hope you enjoyed the ride. He did. And, reader, what’s your transformational story that saved a life?

By the by: Everyone likes a happy ending. Here’s Poncho’s happy ending with his forever family. http://charleymayer.me/my-furry-family/#contentBox  

Poncho( aka Adam earlier) with his new friend, Corona; Photo by Charley Mayer;

https://www.facebook.com/PonchoTheCamel/photos_stream

                             "He's Doing Better Than Ever" Photo by Cassandra Ogier

  

CONFESSIONS OF A VEGETARIAN: The Day I Heard A Fish Cry

Born into an American home with a pre-set diet, I had trouble eating what people call “meat.” Something did not agree with me. I preferred cooked spinach.

Sunday food with my beloved grandparents was a mixed blessing: corn on the cob, tomatoes, potato salad or mashed potatoes, green beans, watermelon, custard pies and peach cobbler. That, and being with my grandparents, was delightful. How the chicken became part of Sunday best, I don’t really want to know. I was in conflict. I wanted to eat what my grandparents had prepared. Another part of me recoiled from the fried stuff. I struggled with eating all through college.

Friends and I canoed while in college and after. One of my friends fished and one afternoon invited us to learn. Reluctantly, I agreed. What I was seeking in our time away was peaceful meanderings around the lake, “gunnelling,” (a favorite childhood activity), great campfires and conversations. The fact that we were going fishing for a weekend did not register.

At the end of the first day, my friend was happy to have caught a lot of fish. I experienced regret. I remember little except having a wiggling fish placed into my hands from the pail. I felt its pain and then its life leaving its body. I recall little else. Did I do as instructed? Did I cook, eat? I don’t know.

I did run far into the woods and burst into tears. I felt again this life hurting and dying; I cried and cried and cried.  Hours later, my friends kept calling me as dusk became dark.

Something in the woods spoke to me of connection, of our time upon earth carrying our footsteps. I walked back, dazed. I wish I could say I never ate of another being’s life again. But process isn’t like that. Nor are inner conflicts. At least, not mine.

Eventually, I was guided by wisdom. These same friends and I embarked on a six-month road trip together starting at the Rio Grande and working our way west and then north.  We ate sparingly. What we ate went underground in my consciousness. I do remember the joy of berry picking in Oregon, boiling and canning them.

Eventually two of us left the road to live in a San Francisco communal home with an old college friend. There were fresh community veggie food co-ops. Eating flesh was passé. Peaches, strawberries, fresh greens, salads, rice, beans and chocolate were the norm.

I wish I had completed my conflict there. I didn’t. But that year was an interlude into living my core values, really deepening what had I had learned in college. That education is of value when woven into and instructed by the world in which we live, its times, and its call for change. Give it tribute, connect with it, and you will be taught what you are here to learn. Ignore it and you succumb to the blind numbness of habits and values not yours...old torn hand-me-downs in need of revival. In my next blog, I continue CONFESSIONS OF A VEGETARIAN. One big fish story is enough for today.

So dear reader, when did you have a defining moment that led to transformation out of conflict?

LOVE’S SWEET BREATH

"White Mane" by Donna Bernstein, (Used with Permission; www.donnabernstein.com)

I’ve been in development. The chaff is shaken from my life. What mattered was engagement and being there: for others, animals, world; and yes, for me.

Okay, maybe that’s the crux. Despite efforts to the contrary, my needs were put on the “back burner.” I’ve been in a shift for years.

When my body first got sick, this lesson came: “Be she who is Sacrificed, Martyred or be the Server.” With early life training in the first two, I thought I had transformed.

As samskaras go, this complex was formidable. (Samskaras: Sanskrit word meaning inherited previous-life tendencies that are the psyche’s impressions.) It was quite a storm.

This past year has found me receiving. Receiving love, grace, gifts, generosities, acknowledgement, wisdom and encouragement.

A week ago, I found a gift of desert-colored socks in my mailbox...along with a beautiful card with a horse on the front. My friend wrote: "Let this gift be a symbol of a universal law; 'Ask and you shall receive.'”

Dan Fogelberg wrote this in a song: “Changing horses in the middle of a stream gets you old.” That’s true. It gets you worn and hungry, too. And through others’ love and faith in me, it's getting me free. Old, it turns out, is a temporary condition.

I once saw my life five to fifteen years out and was given road maps. Now I sense opaque openings of light and hope that guide me into new moments.

Before, my practice was breathe in and breathe out. Notice. Be aware. Imbue uplifting passages into my mind and heart. Discover my place of belonging. Relish relationship harmony.

Now it is different. Breathe in and breathe out is not mine to do. It does. I allow. My highest calling is love. Love to me. Love to you. Love to our world. Love to the cranky neighbor who complains. Love to the Navaho Nation, the trees, animals and their people:

http://www.naztoday.com/news/assayii-lake-fire-update----june-p-m/article9987e6d4-f697-11e3-b0a9-0017a43b2370.html

Love to people who curse life. Love to those who don't. Love to family. Love to birthdays. Love to animal stewards. Love to those who kill. Love to the peacemakers. Love to organizations hoarding money. Love to new work honored. Love to wading into new pools together.

I wrote this poem in praise of this fresh air that is blowing through me:

Winds Countenance

Winds countenance

Deliberate, swaying,

Gentle in freshness

Of airs

Wiser than I it seems

Who lies best

Happily always

Fully embraced

By penetrating heat

Of Mother Sun

The wind awakens me

This hour

To freshness of day

Hints of dewdrops

An invitation to climb

Wind calls me from my place of rest,

Covered as though I am

In spiritual words that drink me

I know their cup of

Freshness needed

Reawakening vast souls,

In modern light

Hopkins, Chief Seattle, Jane

Goodall, Thoreau, Emmett Fox

Twelve steps, twenty and eight

No wonder I need breeze

Welcomed stirrings

To pull me out

From my den

My old life passed on to where all incarnations go when complete. So did the personality structure that housed it. Chunks of me disappeared. I do not need to divorce or harm my ego to gain new ground. That is not the way.

LOVE is the STRONGEST of all POWERS...ego, fully embraced, gives way as rivers merge into the SEA. Love is bigger than all negative conversations, images and events.

We need a renaissance. That is what I learned, stripped down. We don’t need to fight for the animals, the world or ourselves. We all do need infusions of love.  

How about you, Reader? When has your life been stripped down, transformed? When you were infused with the sweet breath of fresh air?