IN THE NAME OF LOVE: Let The Bees Be

In the name of love, we need to find better ways.

The other day, with sweltering heat engulfing me (which is my favorite), I sat for just a bit in the sun at the local pool. I was ready to dive into my book, Beyond Innocence, Autobiography In Letters by Jane Goodall.

Instead, a neighbor greeted me. Our conversation led one thing into the other. One of my neighbor’s friends hurried down the steps to plunge in. I was standing on the other steps, readying myself to enter the cool waters.  In that moment, a bee stung me. Not just “ouch”, but time out for reflection.

When I had Lyme disease, I was highly allergic to bee stings. After a few words with the women at the pool, I went back home. While I have been stung only a few times, it was my first sting in a while. I had the meds, anyway, and I used them. Safety first. Epinephrine or homeopathic high dose remedies? I chose the latter. I was breathing easily, no headache, and the swelling on my arm, while near my heart, was not a balloon. Great! I am truly no longer allergic. Yippee!

While dashing about, I recalled my conversation with the three women before I left the pool. It was about African bees. In “Trip To Chimfunshi,” I describe the outbreak of bees into what was to be a notable relocation of baby chimpanzees. And notable, it became. http://namasteglobalvision.s3-website-us-east 1.amazonaws.com/NamasteTriptoChimfunshi%20copy.pdf 

What most disheartened me about the sting started at the pool. Even in the face of my calm demeanor, one woman wanted to drown the bees. Wow, how quickly the conversation turned to ’killing as the first solution'.  http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/05/choosing-to-live-and-let-live.html

In the name of love, if we are going to put an end to the killing paradigm, we must find better ways. [1] 

I did not start out to write about bees but about other loving solutions. Because of that day, and the communications since, the bees leave Jane Goodall and her contribution in wait. http://www.janegoodall.org/study-corner-biography   So, bees it is.

The loss of bees was so important in 2011 that the keynote speaker, Ariana Stozzi, introduced the bees into our International Big Sky Horse Conference. By 2011, bees were a global concern. http://www.earthaction.org/2012/02/ccd.html 

So how is the world responding?  PBS Nature is offering a positive way. http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episodes/silence-of-the-bees/how-can-you-help-the-bees/36/ 

Another way comes from: “We Save Bees”. What a loving solution.Visit groups like: http://honeylove.org/rescuebees/ and  http://www.wesavebees.com/.

One year, I did find a local beekeeper who removed bees and a nest from my home. Neither the beekeeper nor I were stung.  The bees were happy and continued to live.

Dear Reader, are you willing to explore? What is one practice you will engage in that sustains life in our precious ecosystem?

As for me, I close with an old favorite of mine from the intrepid “Sixties”:

Happiness runs in a circular motion.

Everyone is a part of everything anyway.

You can have everything if you let yourself be.

                                                     Donovan

[1] When I went to Africa, I did not realize how Apis Mellifica was made. Bees are killed in its preparation. Two homeopathic remedies for bee stings (vegetarian, not vegan), are Sulfur and Histaminum. Epi, of course, involves animal experimentation that both harms and kills animals.

TRANSITING SPIRIT

Gismo:

I am a sound sleeper when I am nine years old. Yet when our beloved dog, a beautiful brown Cocker Spaniel, Gismo, comes into my room, late one night, I open my eyes. He gently eases his body down onto the rug. Liquid brown eyes gaze into mine. The look of pure love is there. His eyes then take me into deeper shores. Soon after, he exhales and is gone.

I lie there watching him. His big old brown eyes are now forever closed. I watch for a few moments careful to make sure his furry body is unmoving. Where once was breath, now there is none.

I lie there in witness to quiet interlude. I am too young to know those words then. Yet, Gismo’s peaceful dying remains in my heart and being.

Muriel:

I am one day away from boarding a plane for Hawaii. I’m eager for my osteopathic treatment that will help me release the sciatic pain, preparing me for travels. I have been seeing the celebrated Dr. Muriel Morgan Chapman for a few years. I know fully her miracle touch.

Arriving there, I have no time to sit under her sprawling oak tree. The door to her office is uncharacteristically wide open. Slowly, I walk over to it. I find Muriel lying face up on one of her treatment tables. Quietly she says, “I have fallen. I cannot get up.”

She requests me to help her get into her house. While her house is only yards away, momentarily I wonder how I will accomplish this, given my injury. As if on cue, another car pulls up the long driveway and parks. Together we help Muriel into her house.

It becomes clear speaking first with Muriel, and then her daughter, that no one is in place to care for Muriel during this stage of her life. She has cancer and the treatments are no longer working. Muriel is well into her eighties.

My first planned vacation in years is mysteriously rearranged. Overnight, I become a hospice caregiver. My trip to Hawaii is cancelled. I am privileged that Muriel calls on me to stay with her.

What I learn is more than I can convey. After all these years, nothing expresses the level of intimacy, stripped-down core encounter, that we shared. My life is redefined.

There is a quiet hush in the home that governs interactions. My years of meditation barely prepare me for this depth of connection. After all the communication, healing and death and dying training, I am invited to be wholly present. This is practicum. This is raw intimacy. The daily conversations are centered on real life and death concerns.

Every day I watch life around and in me move away from the mundane and into the subtle, still, sacred space. To be sure, there are conversations, dialogues, some easy, some not, risks taken, discoveries made. People daily come and go. We are also down to basics. But another aspect of life ushers itself into view as Muriel lies dying.

Daily, I take leave to drive across a bridge to work midday; it is shaping our letting go. These are not easy moments. One day, just as I am getting ready to leave Muriel’s bedroom, she shifts our dialogue from tentative leave-taking to true engagement.

“Good-bye,” she sings out in that singsong, lilting voice of hers. She is weak, yet her sparkling brown eyes twinkle as I start for the door.

“Good-bye,” I smile at her, singing our new song back to her, my hand slowly waving.

“Good-bye,” she sings out again, as I move into the living room.

“Good-bye,” I intone, voice quivering.

Over and over, our voices are singing out, one to the other, as I walk across the living room. There is no holding back this moment.

Our good-byes continue until her voice fades. I open the front door to the outside. My heart is wet with tears.

These experiences helped me be unafraid of death. They opened my heart. They opened me to deeper love. I know many people are fearful of natural dying experiences. I’ve been witness to traumatic deaths and their impact on families, friends and culture. I wrote this blog to start a new conversation, exploring a comfortable relationship with positive dying experiences.

Dear reader, do you remember when someone you loved died in a natural way and it opened your heart?

A MOST PRECIOUS GIFT

When I am with Amba, I am in the presence of a huge heart, beating in rhythm with authentic life. In 1981, Amba introduced me to leadership development magic. Almost twenty years later, to evolve my non-profit, Namaste Global Vision (http://namasteglobalvision.org/), I took Amba Gale's Heart of Leadership course. I was trained originally in ontological leadership work that inspires cultures of love, honor and respect. It is a timeless field and Amba and I met again in that culture.

In another soul stirring “conversation course”, I received a most precious gift. Amba was letting go of chotchkies and venerated gems, making room for simplicity. LUCKY us who received these gifts. We sat in a circle at Harmony Hill Retreat Center. The view of Hood Canal was soothing, the work transformational. The LOVE, palpable. Tears come, remembering.

My box was carefully wrapped, with lavender and blue ribbons. Inside was a little ARK: NOAH was there on the ship with the animals. Around the ship Amba had carefully placed blue yarn attached to a little laminated card with these words inscribed:

Karla

Ushering forth the animals into safety

Loving them

Into safe haven

Knowing their magical powers, their healing, their spirit

Their loving presence that graces our world

You, like Noah, create such a space of belonging

Where wild and tame are the same

And there are no boundaries between humans and animals

And you touch and give of this ancient knowledge.

Being seen for who I am remains a most treasured gift. Being gifted Noah’s Ark is an honor. It is also a request of my heart and soul. I seek guidance from Ganesha, Hanuman and Buddha. I have changed; loving relations for planet, animals and humans seek me often.

What is the Noah path? Robert Ellsberg says that Noah was given a covenant that he and the animals were now protected in their journey.

Noah represented an ethic and spirituality concerned with the preservation of earth and the survival of endangered species and cultures; he might well serve as a patron of ecological stewardship. For the earth itself, as we know it, is a fragile ark. 

[The] covenant with Noah extends to his descendants ‘and with every living creature, the birds, the cattle, and every beast of the earth with you.’[1]

Emmet Fox, a metaphysical teacher, encourages that the Universe is a loving Being. He communicates that the Universe is a refuge and we are all supplied with an infinite power of wisdom and love.[2] There is a line in The Chandogya Upanishad that reads: “All creatures have their source in him. He is their home; he is their strength.”[3]

Was it essential being seen by Amba and others as I set voyage? YES. It inspires me still. It holds me steady during choppy waters. Being gifted that REFLECTION of who I am is a core element in my development. It keeps me faithful and honest.

What about you, dear Reader? When were you last seen for who you are? How does that support you when sailing into uncharted waters?

---

[1] Used with permission from All Saints. Daily Reflections on Saints, Prophets, and Witnesses for Our Time, by Robert Ellsberg (Crossroad, 1997) www.crossroadpublishing.com http://www.crossroadpublishing.com/crossroad/title/all-saints

[2] Power Through Constructive Thinking, by Emmett Fox, (Harper Collins, 1968) http://www.harpercollins.com

[3] Timeless Wisdom: passages for meditation from the world’s saints and sages, by Eknath Easwaran (Nilgiri Press, 2008) www.easwaran.org

WE ARE NOT YET DONE WITH THE SIXTIES

In 1969, Pennsylvania Avenue was coated with muddy slush as marchers from all walks of life streamed down, mostly single file, in the March Against Death. We marched past the White House to our destination. As we walked we saw others returning from dropping their placards in the caskets at the Capitol building. Some looked relieved; some eyes were wet with tears.  We were all tired. There was a searing question that many shared: “Are we making a difference?” This march brought out our best...and our cynicism.  Yet our hands were held high, hoping somehow that our fingers, separated for peace, could stop the war.

In the last block, we drew up close beside an old monument. Each of us, cold and depleted, wore a placard around our neck with the name of a dead American soldier. The wind whimpered against the caskets now heavily laden in tribute to those dead. I dropped my placard into the pine casket. Some turned away. I could see them vacantly staring. I imagined them looking into that blank space that lies somewhere between life and death.  

Barb nudged me. Her eyes fastened on a large black Pontiac that slowly pulled up behind the caskets. A man in a servant’s uniform got out and went to open the back door. His arm held fast the elbow of a wrinkled old woman. Her gray-veiled hat was ready to topple into a mud puddle. Her worn back was crippled over. Her tiny black glove clutched tightly to a white name card and her eyes met the caskets in resignation.

The man had one arm around the old woman’s arched back, holding firmly to her left shoulder. The old woman took tiny solid steps toward the caskets. She was as old as wars were old. She was as tired-looking as the time of killing is tired. Her face was as worn as the flag. Her eyes filled with tears and a look of pity that the dead now could never know. Her steps remained as slow as the movements for peace remain slow.

She took one final step to the casket. She quivered as she stretched out her hand, gently easing the name placard from her fingers into the overflowing casket. She didn’t waste time for goodbyes. Yet she glanced out into the crowd of people and nodded slowly, then turned quietly and walked back to her car.

Suddenly I knew why I was there, why we all came, why we were fiery, angry and sad, trying to make sense of a war that had no meaning. This one woman, solemn and bent over, shared her love for life that was no more.

“Karla, how did you feel in that moment?” Barb asked. “Well, somewhere in our aching uncertainty, there’s some hushed meaning in what we’re doing.” Put this on your resumes, America. We were there. That moment lives in us. It will lead us home. We are not yet done with "The Sixties".

"And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee."
                                                                              John Donne

“ALL WE ARE SAYING”

"This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who inhabit it. Whenever they shall grow weary of the existing government, they can exercise their constitutional right of amending it, or their revolutionary right to dismember or overthrow it."
                                                                                             Abraham Lincoln

In 1979, along with two close friends, I staggered out of the movie theater. We had just watched “The Deer Hunter”. No one spoke. We proceeded to a café. Gently, we found words. “At least this is an anti-war movie.” My friend Robert had been to war. “No, it isn’t. This movie stirs up young men.”

John Simon, film critic, agreed: "For all its pretentions to something newer and better, this film is only an extension of the old Hollywood war-movie lie.” Robert shared a personal war story and then lamented: “These films fuel men to blindly accept military commands.“

Only fifteen years before “The Deer Hunter,” Americans were on their knees in prayer. Across America, the response was instantaneous: “NO” to war. By 1970 some 4 million students protested the National Guard’s killing of Kent State students. Over 900 American universities and colleges closed during the subsequent student strikes. 40 per cent of the American population participated in the anti-war movement.

Chants rang out: “Hell no! We won’t go! We don’t want your stupid war!” “All we are saying is give peace a chance.” When we marched, we KNEW we had a VOICE. We knew that America needed one: “All we are saying is give peace a chance.” 

In 1974, Holly Near belted out “It Could Have Been Me” to a packed auditorium. The audience was stunned, hushed. Teardrops fell. We sat remembering. We sat in hope, a trembling hope, but hope enduring. Peace was still the answer.  http://youtu.be/CadP4dRemYk 

It was a long moment in America’s history, but it came down to simple equations.

There are Americans who believed in going to war. They believed in Government calling the shots. Overnight, a flowering force of Americans sprung up saying, “We WILL NOT go.” WE do not believe in governments who send their children to die in war.

It was a time of voting with your conscience. It was being a part of something noble that did not hang back. It was a moment of taking a stand...standing for something bigger than our personal lives. It was being at risk for a better world. It was the quintessential ORGANIZATIONAL DEVELOPMENT OPPORTUNITY.

This organization was made up of The Civil Rights Movement: universities and colleges, parents, those sickened by war, flower children, The Women’s Movement, doctors, lawyers, clergy, Quakers, Mennonites, Amish, administrators, meditators, Yogis, journalists, artists and musicians.

The media broadcasted the war AND America’s discontent. Everyone was on stage. Protesters were being graded. A force drove those seeking peace. It was more powerful than any division. We stood as ONE FORCE. WE made a difference.

This moment took root. New life grew. Where were you, dear Reader? How did this TRANSFORMATION impact YOUR life?

CHOOSING TO LIVE AND LET LIVE

Killing, as a solution, comes easy to this culture. We seem to reach for it first.

Is there a problem we haven't tried to solve by wiping it off the face of the earth? Pesticides, herbicides, war, antibiotics [suicide, homicide, genocide, euthanasia]-other options considered only if eradication doesn't work, which it usually doesn't, at least not in the long run.

                                                                            Priscilla Stuckey, Kissed By A Fox

When I read Priscilla’s book, I came to a sentence that rocked my soul. “Killing, as a solution, comes easy to this culture.” As a systems thinker, I’ve been in reflection. Many actions are shaped by cultural beliefs and myths handled down that we unwittingly perpetuate. Waking up to this reality startled me. It’s amazing to uncover systems contributing to a collective anesthetization that defends killing as solution.

We will never find positive solutions when aligned with myths and practices that ennoble killing, or unnatural dying and suffering. Albert Einstein is right: “We can’t solve problems by using the same mind that created them.” Consider two beliefs conditioning us in matters of killing, from two people who went beyond tradition.

Death or Life 1:

·       The first people canonized as saints were done so because they were martyrs. By being a martyr they were proving their faith. To die for one’s religious beliefs was considered noble.

What does this canonization criteria mean for aspirants wanting to make a difference? Do we need to be killed, die unnaturally or suffer? Is this tacit validation for “holy” wars?

·       Saint Hildegard lived a long life, dying of natural causes. She denounced the practice of self-flagellation and was a composer, Prioress and holistic practitioner.

Rev. Amy Freedman celebrated her life in saying: “Even Naturalists can appreciate her mystical insight long before atoms were discovered, that there is a divine energy animating every person, creature, and plant.” Does Hildegard’s life inspire you in making a difference?

Death or Life 2:

·       One slow dying belief: “animal experiments are vital to the advancement of medicine and science.”

What does this belief suggest? That life is expendable? When we believe we are saving life by the taking of life, what do we lose? Do we lose our integrity and faith in “no harm” solutions?

·       Jane Goodall, Scientist and “Messenger of Peace” thinks so: "By and large students are taught that it is ethically acceptable to perpetrate, in the name of science, what from the point of view of the animals would certainly qualify as torture. By the time [the students] arrive in the labs they have been programmed to accept the suffering around them."

Jane Goodall named the chimpanzees that she studied. She upended long-conditioned beliefs about efficacious research. She changed science. She shines her light for the pathway of “no harm” solutions. Does she motivate you?

What choices did you make reaching for wrong solutions? What solutions have you discovered that honor ALL life?

DO WE EVER TIRE OF THE SIXTIES?

A final SNCC legacy is the destruction of the psychological shackles which had kept black southerners in physical and mental peonage; SNCC helped break those chains forever. It demonstrated that ordinary women and men, young and old, could perform extraordinary tasks.

                                                                                             Julian Bond

In my last blog, I mentioned the all-intrepid “sixties”.
http://consultingforpassion.blogspot.com/2014/04/its-time-for-what-to-do-it-all-or-to_25.html The sixties are a good marker for what’s possible. It was a fundamental moment when life mattered and investment in a future counted for something. It shaped a global “conversation”. In organizational development, we call that shaping a new organizational culture.

Folks were tired of inequality, injustice, dogma; the US going to war, and promises made but not kept. Universities were hotbeds of change. Students were through with hypocrisy. They wanted values built on living out noble truths.

I asked a friend, a high profile University administrator, what was her best career accomplishment? “I left my job to travel down south in support of Martin Luther King’s initiatives.” I was inspired. Such are the affirmations that change cultures.

“The Sixties” was a meeting point of collaborative ventures. It was a time of great integrity. Rosa Parks refused to move to the back of the bus. Other Afro-Americans sat down in what once were “white people only” diners and requested to purchase a cup of coffee. Martin Luther King studied Gandhi’s ahimsa model and implemented an American non-violent protest movement.

“I have a dream” is at the heart of any good organizational development work.  Finding that dream, laying down the values, and creating the culture that supports that dream being realized is how change occurs. Martin Luther King inspired a nation and generated an organizational design for a hopeful future. Ask anyone who was active during that time and they will tell you: it changed their lives.

Well, guess what? It’s still “The Sixties.” We’re still working for equality for all women, children, races, cultures and economic groups. And then there’s Mother Earth and ALL her children. Alice Walker was asked about the future she wanted. “I want a world of peace and happiness and joy and plenty of food and water for everyone. That’s what I want for everyone, men and women, animals and trees.” Today, I received an email from a friend who is working on an initiative to save the wolves.  My heart lightened. Every shift in our shared culture initiatives empowers us all.

Every organization I know needs organizational development. In the sixties, we were on fire to develop our leadership, that of institutions, and of a nation. We asked ourselves the hard questions. We sought mentors. We became teachers. We evolved equitable partnerships. We set the bar high.

What would thrill me? I want all organizations to step up and request organizational development, inclusive of stakeholders, CEO’s to frontlines. People and animals deserve it. The environment needs it. So do the organizations!

Our world is waiting. What organizational change will you initiate, dear reader?