cummings on the unimaginable

i thank You God for most this amazing

By e.e. cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any—lifted from the no
of all nothing—human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

**********

There is something in this cummings sonnet that makes me want to go all Sound of Music, running with arms outstretched on a hilltop, singing at the top of my lungs.  He just piles descriptor on descriptor, verb on verb, and upon and, until you are babbling white water. 

The combination of reading this poem of great thanksgiving alongside one thousand gifts (Ann Voskamp), that I recently received in the mail from a dear friend, has me just about bursting with gratitude.  I feel amazed and curious about everything lately. The year is new, and so am I.

The cut holly in this glass bottle on my desk – it points up while it pulls down, into the water, beckoning. The late afternoon sunlight pierces the glass starfish. I finger a small pile of old photographs, newly found.

Discovery. Life – this life, my life – is remarkable.

Of course, cummings was not always so vital.  Another reason to love this poem – it is honest.  He tells us “i who have died am alive again today.” He was not unfamiliar with that heavy blanket of despair that feels like a death of sorts. And he wants us to know it. The last couplet assures us: “now”… but not before. Now I finally can hear properly. Now I can see clearly. But it has not always been this way.

That journey from “the no of all nothing” to being awake and open is what makes it all so leaping and greenly and most amazing. Cummings was no Gnostic. He did not separate spirit and flesh. To experience the infinite one has to endure and enjoy the illimitably earth. Such are the gifts of the unimaginable God.

Reference

100 Selected Poems by e. e. cummings (Grove Press, New York, 1959)

Unauthorized art: Rilke’s ambiguous dare

My whole life the only thing I've always wanted to do is write; and more particularly, to write poetry. It is what makes me feel alive. I am much less patient and earnest with the poems of other writers, even (or perhaps especially) those that are considered "Great."  As a corrective, in 2012 my blog posts will be an attempt to engage with the Greats, those "others" who I have sadly neglected – or simply peripherally enjoyed. This will not be an academic response, but just what I feel and think immediately after reading one of their works of poetry.  What follows is my first such attempt, a response to one gem from my favorite Great and constant poetic companion of the past two decades, Rainer Maria Rilke.

**********

#3 from A Book for the Hours of Prayer (Das Studenbuch)

By Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Robert Bly)

We don’t dare to do paintings of you as we want to:

you are the early dawn, from whom the whole morning rose.
We haul out the ancient color boxes
the same strokes and the same brilliant light
with which the Great Saint kept you secret.

We construct paintings all around you like walls,

so that thousands of walls are standing around you now.
Our pious hands lay a cover over you
whenever we feel that you are open toward us. 

********** 

A New Years Day walk up to the neighborhood above us, a few loops around the cul de sac, then my boys and I are back home.  After the “great race” (my five-year-old makes even an ordinary walk into an adventure), we happy three are like reverse polarized magnets, rebounding to our separate corners of the house.  My husband back into his office, working on the next book project; my son playing with Legos; me, lying on the bed, listening to the ringing in my ears while writing on the inside of my eyelids. 

I am not much for napping in the middle of the day anymore, but just to lie there and feel the blood moving through my skin reacting to the temperature shift from outside cool-sunshine to inside warm-shade; it makes me feel strangely alive.  I notice things that move me: the cold numbness of my right pointer finger and my big toes, the tingling of my cheek apples, the smells of sunblock and furniture polish.

I cannot be still another moment.  My fingers must pick up a pen or pick away at the keyboard.  I choose the keyboard this time.

I wonder if Rilke felt this way when his first group of poems in Das Studenbuch came pouring out of him like a flood.  The third in this “Book of Monkish Life” feels that way, like he had something secret he wanted to blurt out quickly before he lost his nerve.  I read this poem as a prayer, as though Rilke was speaking to God, the “you” being the One we try to cover with color and light, paint and hands – whatever will keep him safely distant and Other.

I love this English translation – thank you, Robert Bly – but (and? because?) it makes me long for the ability to read the German.  I see those crisp interesting words on the left page, just across from the more accessible English on the right, and the German blood in me wants to say them and hear them. 

Wir dürfen dirch nicht eigenmächtig malen | We don’t dare to do paintings of you as we want to

I plug “eigenmächtig malen” into an online translation tool and come up with “arbitrarily paint.” How very interesting, and different from the Bly translation.  We don’t dare arbitrarily paint you, God. 

Wir holen aus den alten Farbenschalen | We haul out of the ancient color boxes

No, we need to use the authorized Farbenschalen (“color bowls” says one robo-translator, “color shells” another).  Bowls, shells, or boxes, I picture a worn and formidable thing, sturdy, powerful in its plain way of carrying the light of tradition.

Denn dich verhüllen unsre frommen Hande | Our pious hands lay a cover over you

How ludicrous, this idea that our own tiny dirty hands could cover over (or veil, “verhüllen”) untamable Holiness with our own safe sense of piety.  I believe Rilke was toying with us, daring us to make unauthorized art.  But carefully.

The New Year opens up such dares in the quiet of our minds and the movement of the blood beneath our skin.  We think it is up to us how to respond.  But maybe it is not.   Maybe we need to stick to the ancient Farbenschalen.  Rilke leaves the question unasked and unanswered.

For my part, I am satisfied with this tension and ringing in my ears that proves me living.

Reference

Selected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, ed. and trans. Robert Bly (Harper & Row, New York, 1981)

Restoring the balance

Today I am 45. Today I am the same as I was yesterday when I was 44.  Except that today I am a little bit older. I dreamed only last night that I was my child self being held in the arms of my self as a much older woman with wrinkles and wisdom.

Today I find myself seeking balance. Balance in work and art and rest. Balance between child self and wise woman self. Balance in relationships.

I feel that I have stolen but a small and precious piece of the world’s enormous heart. I hold it shakily, tenderly, in grateful and greedy hands. The world would run off with my entire soul. (Not even a ransom note.) In this, too, I feel the need to restore balance.

The shadows may be lengthening, but soon the balance will be tipped by Nature, and again the sun will be ascendant. Whether I seek it or not, this balance also will be restored.

Still the clock ticks. Still the trees strip and the frost spreads across the pane. And still we wait for God to speak in the most unexpected ways.

Happy birthday to me.

The Change Agent’s Toolkit: Seven Components of Positive & Sustainable Change

How strange to be pondering a theory of change upon the eve of Advent, a season more generally reserved (in theory, if not in practice) for contemplation, reflection, and silence.  At least it seems strange on the surface.  But just below that smooth meditative surface is the churn, the anticipation, the “hurry-up-I-can’t-take-all-this-waiting” desire for THE change that Advent points us to.  There is no change as remarkable as new life – and for most believers I know who choose to celebrate the season, that new life means transformational change on a global scale.  Really paradigm-shifting, earth-shattering stuff.

And so I am here thinking about such things and what it means practically for people wanting to make a significant positive difference in some small or large way on this planet (or simply in their own little corner of it).  The thoughts that follow are my best practical attempt at this time to articulate my own theory of change.  I include at the end of this post, as my holiday gift to readers, a list of books that have influenced my thinking on this subject and that I recommend heartily for the Change Agents on your gift lists.

Change can and does occur for individuals and organizations all the time without the application of any forethought or intentionality.  Sometimes it makes life better for us, and other times… not so much.  Most of the time, the change acts upon us without any significant impact.  The weather changes constantly (especially if you live in New England!), technology changes frequently, fashions change, and none of the agents responsible for those changes ask us for permission or if we believe in or embrace the changes.  (Well, they didn’t ask me.)  We simply choose to react or not react.

And that is the key: We choose to be active or passive in the context of change in our lives.  Many times the change is in response to an external adjustment to the status quo (such as weather, technology, or fashion trends), and other times it is mission driven.  Either way, the key difference is the decision to be the “Change Agent,” to no longer be a passive recipient but to be an active influencer.  Once an individual or organization has taken on the mantel of Change Agent, it becomes critical to approach the change with tools appropriate for the endeavor.

There are seven basic components that work together toward the goal of positive and sustainable change.  These tools are critically important for individuals or organizations that have chosen to be active agents of change.  They are not linear, and they are not always equal.  In some situations, one component will have far more weight than any other, while in different circumstances, there will be a fluctuation across all components, a give and take throughout a change process.  Yet in every serious change effort, each one of these components will need consideration and application.

Figure 1 shows how these components work together to move the change forward.

Figure 1: Seven Components of Change

Here is what I mean by each of these components:

1.       Specificity.  Identify the area of change in such a way that allows for clear goal-setting.  At a very basic level, defining the goal will let you know when you have met it.  It provides you with the ability to measure your level of attainment and to set new goals.  There is also an aspect of dissatisfaction in this component.  While the most effective Change Agents I know are joyful, they also tend to be constantly dissatisfied.  They see specific things (not vague angst) that can and should be improved, and they set personal goals to improve, constantly raising the bar for themselves and their organizations. 

2.       Belief.  Create and/or check for internal buy-in (within the individuals or groups that are the targeted beneficiaries of the change) that the specified change is necessary and worth the effort.  This includes individuals’ internal belief that they are capable of adjusting their behavior to accommodate the change.  Belief is not always necessary at the beginning of a change effort, but to sustain the change, it is absolutely required. 

3.       Expectation.  Create a sense of positive inevitability and momentum through external sources of encouragement and accountability (community, mentor, teacher, family, and/or friends).  This frequently comes in the form of someone (or some persons or institutions) that have an assumption of attainment, an external belief in the ability to make positive change that supports the internal belief. 

4.       Exposure.  Be open to and seek out opportunities for newness. Change occurs when something new is introduced into the status quo.  Specific changes require targeted exposure, which frequently comes through education, training, and review of leading resources in the topic.  Such exposure can (and frequently will) lead to unexpected opportunities for further goal setting in the specified area of positive change.  It is simply the “Oh, what a great idea, I must try that” effect. It is what incents large organizations to invest heavily in things like benchmarking, research and development, and competitive intelligence.  It is what causes individuals to try a new form of exercise, or a new recipe, or an iPad.  Exposure leads to innovation.

5.       Will.  Fuel the internal fortitude and energy to start something new and see it through.  Will is different from belief – you can believe that something is necessary without possessing the will to make it happen (e.g. most people agree that exercise, a balanced diet, and a smoke-free lifestyle is better than the alternatives, but that belief by itself will not make someone alter behavior).  You can also have the will to make a change without fully buying into its necessity, if external forces and other incentives are strong enough to support it.

6.       Practice.  Create a habit through repetition, ritual, and mindfulness that leads to sustainable lifestyle change.  Take action that will get you closer to your goals. Putting plans into action and celebrating early successes can feed will, belief, and expectation in very positive ways.  But practice is more than taking those important first steps.  Repeatable habits have to be practical, usable, and meaningful. 

7.       Integration.  Engage holistically, integrating mind, body, emotions, and spirit toward the specific positive change.  Achievable and sustainable change is not done in siloes.  In the context of organizational change, integration of the change (particularly if it impacts multiple stakeholders) must occur across teams, departments, and levels.  In this way, all seven change components work together for meaningful, sustainable change.

These components are infinitely applicable, yet may not incorporate all aspects of change that occurs at the micro or macro level.  What have I missed?  Which components ring true for your situation?  How are you preparing for the next big change in your life?  Do share your story of change and expose others to new ways of being a force for positive and sustainable impact. 

My Change Agent Book List
These are just a handful of my muses, those major Change Agents who have inspired, strengthened, and sharpened my thinking on this subject.  I am sure to add to this list over time.  Let me know what books have influenced you in your positive change initiatives and I will add to this list with a credit for the recommendation to you.

Change or Die: The Three Keys to Change at Work and in Life by Alan Deutschman

First, Break All the Rules: What the World's Greatest Managers Do Differently by Marcus Buckingham

Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap... and Others Don't by Jim Collins

Love Is the Killer App: How to Win Business and Influence Friends by Tim Sanders

The Power of Pull: How Small Moves, Smartly Made, Can Set Big Things in Motion by John Hagel III

Where Good Ideas Come From: The Natural History of Innovation by Steven Johnson

Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within (Shambhala Library) by Natalie Goldberg

How a weekend in the woods changed my life

“We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.” – C.S. Lewis

It was a dark and stormy night. Or perhaps I should say “morning” that turned into a gray and drizzly day.  That was the night/morning that my husband and I crawled out of bed at 3:00 a.m., loaded our luggage into the Land Rover, drove to the airport to get on a commuter plane to switch at another airport to fly half a country away to then drive an hour and a half further to get to the middle of nowhere in the piny woods of Texas. 

Not being a morning person or much of one for travel, the entire relentless time in transport from Maine to Houston, I was thinking, “This better be worth it.”

It was.  The C.S. Lewis Southwest Regional Retreat & Writers Workshop at Camp Allen in Navasota, Texas (October 27 to 30, 2011) was the beginning of something remarkable in my life: friendship.  

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’”  - C.S. Lewis

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have many dear, close friends who have been “knit to my soul” through years of shared joy, pain, and sheer hilarity.  What is remarkable about the friendships forged through this past week is what is remarkable about all friendship – that moment of recognition, of “You too?” 

What makes the CSL workshop so worthy of remark is the sheer pace and rapidity of those “You too” moments.  I suppose it was to be expected.  The conference drew folks who were there for their love of Jack Lewis and gang (Tolkien, Barfield, other Inklings), and writers who wanted to develop their craft.  How could I not find kindred spirits among such a crowd?

Friendship is always worth a grueling trip.

“You can make anything by writing.” – C.S. Lewis

I am still a bit too close to this event to tell you what it looked like.  It’s sort of like that old fable of five blindfolded people asked to describe an elephant by touch, and they come up with five very different animals.  Sort of like that, but not really.  I can tell you a few specific things I walked away with, ways my life will change as a result.  And that is not nothing.

MiniWriMo. Five hundred words a day for the next thirty days. That is what I have committed to, with accountability, feedback, and support from two other like-minded friends I found lurking among the Texas pines.  It is my version of the vaunted NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month in which writers from around the globe attempt to pour out 50,000 words each toward a draft novel), but I am not going to write a novel and I’m not going to aim for 50,000 words.  Always doing it my way.  I want to use this focused energy and accountability over the next thirty days to flesh out my vision, mission, goals, and values that make up All Nine, my consulting business.

I have sculptor/author/speaker Bridgette Mongeon to thank for this gem.  I attended her session on “Getting Past the Voices in My Head” with expectations of a nice pep talk and walked away with this very practical challenge.  

The whole conference was like that; expecting one thing, getting something altogether different, much more necessary, and terribly practical.

Servant Authorship.  Several speakers spoke on the importance of writing for your reader, but nobody provided a more clear, consistent, and (again) practical message on the matter than Thomas Umstattd, Jr.  Umstattd, owner of Umstattd Media and author of Author Tech Tips, provided a clarion call to view your writing platform as a servant leadership role.  More importantly, he showed how to do this by example.  Over the next month, I intend to reread all my notes from his sessions, imbibe everything he has written on website and e-newsletter design, and do everything he says.  Watch for changes to the All Nine web presence!

Spontaneous bursts of creativity.   One of my favorite moments of the workshop/retreat was the “Villanelle Throw Down” at Bag End (the informal fellowship and sharing of artistic gifts at the end of each night, hosted by Andrew Lazo) on Saturday night.  Earlier in the day, I was chatting with my friend Dr. Holly Ordway about how writing is both a communal and a solitary act, how all writers are responding, reacting, and building upon other writers both past and present.  We talked about how John Keats and Leigh Hunt, two English poets of the Romantic era, would set up little competitions between the two of them for fun. And then it was, “Hey, we can do that! Let’s each write a villanelle and read it at Bag End!” 

And so it was on, and that is what we did between sessions throughout the day, in spite of the fact that I have not rhymed in years (my main focus as a poet lately has been haiku) and Holly has been steeped in sonnets.   The funniest memory is catching us both simultaneously counting our iambic pentameter on our fingers as we were attempting to meet the challenge.

We stood together that night, Holly and I, and as we each read our offerings, I was filled with deep joy.  It was truly a splendid moment of realized spontaneity, and indeed, we both won that throw down.  I intend to throw down more challenges in the not too distant future to unsuspecting friends, for the sheer pleasure of creative spontaneity.

If I had to sum up the whole experience, I would say that I was reminded that anything that matters in life – like friendship, service, leadership, and really solid writing – is worth a bit of trouble, even getting up in the middle of a dark and stormy night.

Taking Stock

If you are in the business of comparing yourself to others to gain a sense of your own worth, I have good news and bad news for you.  There will always be someone else in the world – and even in your relatively small corner of the world – who is prettier (or uglier), smarter (or dumber), wittier (or duller), stronger (or weaker), richer (or poorer), better and more passionate than what you are best and most passionate about, less fashionable, more tactful, less concise, more influential, less popular, more educated, less experienced, nicer, and so on.

Comparison with others is a zero sum game.  May I suggest an alternative?

If you simply cannot shake off the need to compare, then compare yourself with the only other person that you can legitimately compare to:  You. 

I’m not talking about identifying the very best you that you hope to someday become, the “Ideal You,” the UberYou, and then comparing your current self to that hoped for future you.  That can be worse than benchmarking yourself against Super Mom down the street; you know, the one with the two gorgeous well-behaved children, perfect body, awesome job, always clean Volvo, and who still finds time to volunteer for three charities.  [Not that I ever noticed…]  UberYou is such a nag – that shadow self out there in the distance who actually has no purpose in your life except to make you regret all the things you have not yet achieved. 

I am talking about taking stock.  Look back at who you were at 13, 25, 33, 40, … last week.  Give thanks for all you have been through all those seasons, and for what past versions of you have brought to you today.  Recognize the compassion you have learned to show to others by living through natural disasters like teenage insecurities or the arrogance of early management responsibility.  Now, can you show as much compassion to yourself?  Can you give yourself an “Atta boy” or “Atta girl” for the courage it took to get where you are today?

When you are grateful for who you are, for all that your genetic material and happy accidents and miseries and achievements have made you (all of which, I believe, are great gifts from a generous Creator who just cannot stop creating in our lives), you can be generous.  It takes courage to be generous, to take stock in this way, and say, “I am rich.  I have surplus.  I have something to give.”

Thankful stock-taking supercharges personal growth.  It allows you to look forward – with compassionate acceptance of the past – to who you are becoming. Not to UberYou (that boob!), but generous, courageous, grateful you.

What I love about Kindergarten

The other day, my son Sam was in the process of losing a wrestling match with his dad, when he shouted out, “Dad, that’s not letting your light shine!”

Huh? Where’d that come from? Oh, right. Kindergarten.

We started on this new adventure in education just a few short weeks ago, and already it has made a big impact on Sam and the rest of our family. Here are the top five reasons why I LOVE kindergarten:

1. My son wakes up in the morning doing math. “Mom, did you know that five cows times two is ten cows?” Seriously? “Yup, seriously, Mom.” Well, now I know.

2. Kindergarten is tiring. By 8:00 p.m., my little muffin man is out, and I get the rest of the evening to … fill in the blank.

3. My husband and I are not the only ones challenging our son to try harder. His teachers don’t let him give up on himself. I adore them.

4. There are now other adults in Sam’s life who like doing crafts and are teaching him how to draw. This is awesome for me, because I am not crazy about crafts or very good at drawing.

5. My days are focused with minimized “multi-tasking” schizophrenia. I work primarily out of my home office, so the routine and scheduling structure of the school schedule is a huge favor to my sanity.

For the most part, Sam loves kindergarten, too, in spite of the question he asked on the way to school last week: “Mom, how long do I have to do this?” This was a teachable moment for both of us. Rather than say what came to mind (“For the rest of your life…”), I adjusted quickly to the positive and reminded him that he was really looking forward to karate at school the following Monday.

I realize the book has already been written (All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, Robert Fulghum), but I would be remiss to ignore the obvious. My reasons for loving kindergarten should apply to the rest of my life.

Am I learning something new every day that makes me excited to get out of bed? Does my work tire me out in a good way? Are people challenging me to try harder in areas that are hard for me? Do I tap into my network to complement and shore up areas where I am weak? Am I focusing on one thing at a time? Does my work schedule balance out well with our family’s schedule? When work gets to be a bit of a drag and I find myself asking how long I have to do this, do I look for new activities to keep myself motivated?

And most importantly, am I letting my light shine?