the corporate Bodhisattva
They say that in India you don’t have to walk very far at all to find a guru – someone who claims to have experienced a flash of insight that enables them to see through the veil and perceive things as they actually are.
They are easy to find.
They will be surrounded by other people who will tell you that there are things that the guru knows that you do not. The guru will not tell you that – because it is not so easy to see them.
They are important. And busy.
You are not the only one who comes seeking what they know. But if you are prepared to wait they may be able to see you next Thursday at 4:15 for fifteen minutes. Please prepare your questions and submit them beforehand so they can be sure to provide you with answers.
They will try to explain the complexity of their world as simply as they can.
Then there is the Bodhisattva – a person who is able to reach nirvana but delays doing so out of compassion in order to save suffering beings (those of us who would be left behind.)
They are not so easy to find.
You cannot ask where they are because you will be directed to a guru. But if you listen to enough people you will hear their name mentioned. You will be told that if you really want to understand then they are the person you must find. They will not be surrounded by people, in fact you can only be sure you are on the right track if more than once you are warned that you will not like what they have to say.
They are not busy because not many are prepared to hear what they know. Few are able to see what they are in touch with.
They do not think they are important.
They will be able to see now and will be happy to talk with you for the rest of the day if you think it will help. There is no guarantee you will leave with an answer – only that you will have more questions.
Their simple explanations highlight the complexity of your world.
And so it is in the corporate world.
Corporate gurus are easy to find. Everybody will tell you that they know things. If you can get past their PA you can have fifteen minutes with them next Thursday – but only if you email your agenda and questions by Monday … and you are not upset when you are rescheduled twice because something important has come up.
When they talk to you they seek to explain the complexity of their world as simply as they can so that you might understand the depth of their experience and insight. After all, that is why they have ‘Senior’ or ‘Manager’ in their title and you do not.
You will leave with their answer.
The corporate Bodhisattva are there if you know where to listen for them. They often have no title and no PA because they have made the choice not to climb the corporate ladder in order to help suffering beings (those of us who would be left behind in the open plan offices.) All you have to do is drop by their desk and they are happy to listen to you.
You will be warned not to talk with them because they will say things that make you uncomfortable. Their simple explanations highlight the complexity of your world.
You will leave with your answer and with their questions. Questions that are much juicier than the ones that you came with.
***
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unfolding and refolding
They say that art imitates life. For others there is no life without art.
That is how I started this post back in 2010. For the last few weeks the line between life and art has become almost impossible for me to see. I have been rehearsing a play that, as I write, opens tomorrow night.
It has consumed almost every ounce of creative energy that I have.
It leaves me simultaneously drained and invigorated.
As I read through the original piece I realised that these last few weeks have required me to live on the fold in a way that I have never had to do before. I have had to discover where my character’s folds are and how they might match up with my own.
For George some of them are easy to see. Some are very well hidden and he works very hard to try to erase the evidence of them – you have to treat him with respect and unfold him very carefully and gently to find them.
His life, and how I seek to portray it, is determined by the events that have folded his life. And the events that have folded mine.
But George, and the experience of trying to bring him to life, continues to fold me in entirely new and unexpected ways. We have a three-week season to run so I am going to live with George a little longer before I try to figure out where the creases are that he has left in me. For now, I am going to live on and between the folds and offer you the chance to do the same…
_
The photo below is of a piece from Brisbane artist Linda Phillips. It is a canvas, part of series that explores one part of the space where painting and sculpture become indistinguishable from each other. For me the work is at once both and neither and there is something ethereal about it. Linda says:
“Using the fold as my conceptual underpinning, I am exploring the site in-between interior and exterior which I see as permeable and fluid. During the process of folding I am also questioning what a painting is.”
- “Even that morning she knew it was a mistake.”
It resonates with me for two reasons.
The first is because the apparently simplicity of the piece belies its complexity and the careful thought that went into creating the work. You would be correct if you said it is a piece of canvas that has been painted and then folded, crumpled or scrunched. But if you stop there you are missing out.
If you choose not to engage any further with the artist you lose the opportunity to take a peek inside her mind. (And because you are looking at a photo that I took of a work I like, the opportunity to take a peek inside my mind as well!)
Why does he like her work? Why did she use those colours? It would be a very different object in white, black or red. Why did she do that – paint both sides of the canvas? Why develop (what I assume to be) the back of the canvas with that inky blue and then only show it at the back and that one little corner on the bottom right? Why fold it the way she did? What does she mean by “she knew it was a mistake”? What was she thinking?
I don’t know. I am not sure it matters though. I like that it makes me look at the things around me a little differently. It makes me wonder.
I do know that I made connections between Linda’s work and a documentary I saw a few months ago called “Between the folds”. It looked at the art and practice of paper-folding around the world. Traditional Japanese Origami, New York artists who construct dynamic, responsive pieces out of single pieces of paper and mathematicians who use paper-folding to stretch the boundaries of their work.
One of the artists in the documentary made the observation that once you have put a fold in a piece of paper you cannot remove it. You can try. You might be able to go a long way towards erasing it but it will always be there. The experience of a single fold has forever changed the way the paper looks and the way it will behave.
The more complicated Origami pieces rely on this. Early on the paper will be folded and then unfolded leaving only the crease. Other folds are placed in the paper and slowly the larger form will take shape. It may well be that the very last fold is the one that requires that earlier crease to allow the work to be completed.
I think life is like that.
Every experience we have leaves a crease in us. Like Linda’s work, our life is created by a process of folding. We live on and between the folds.
Sometimes we work very hard to try to erase the evidence. Other times we will proudly show the crease to anyone who will listen.
Sometimes the crease might be visible to all as a line on our face or a scar on our knee. Other times the scar will be invisible and we dare not show it even to those who might ask to see it.
Because we are all works in progress we do not always understand why life has chosen to fold us in a particular way. We can be doubled over by the pain and then left to heal ourselves the best we can.
It makes no sense.
Why does he like her? Why did she start hanging around with those people? It would be very different if they were white, black or red! Why did she do that – develop a relationship with both our business and our competitors and hide it from us so that it was only just visible? Why did he treat me that way? What did he mean when he said “it was a mistake to call you”? What was she thinking?
I don’t know.
I am sure it matters though.
The day will come when life will need that crease to be right where it is. You will need to draw on the strength it developed in you, apply the lesson you learnt or show the compassion to others that was shown to you. Life will try to fold you in a slightly different way that would not be possible if that crease was not there.
It may well be the fold that completes you.
…
If you are in Brisbane in the next three weeks (we run until June 9) and would like to come and spend some time with George and give him the chance to put a crease in your life you can book tickets for “Same Time Next Year” online at www.stg.org.au
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fighting prejudice
“The French do not know they are French. Australian’s do not know they are Australian. But they are!”
Fernando Flores.
I struggle with prejudice every day. Prejudice against women. Prejudice against older people. Prejudice against younger people. Prejudice against people who have skin that is a different colour to mine. Prejudice against Americans. Prejudice against Europeans.
Even prejudice against you because of who you are..
I don’t always see them but when I do I am upset by them.
The trouble is they are my prejudices.
Because I am a man I rarely know I am a man.
But I am a man.
Because I am my age I rarely know I am my age.
But I am that age.
Because I have my skin I rarely know what colour it is.
But I am that colour.
Because I am Australian I rarely know I am Australian.
But I am Australian.
I don’t always see my prejudices but when I do, I am upset by them.
Some days, like today, I am lucky enough to have them put into stark contrast with the world I inhabit.
I find my self in a room full of people who are many of the things that I am not and I am reminded of the truth of life.
I am and we are. There is no difference between us.
Except maybe for our prejudices.
size does not matter
Even when I was little I was tall. 
I was a good couple of inches taller than most of the kids in my class at primary school. At high school I was on the basketball team and I played second row in the rugby team. Even today it is unusual for me to come across someone who is taller than me.
There is one guy I know. He is a good couple of inches taller than me. And a couple of women who tower over me when they wear heels.
Standing beside them changes things. It makes me more aware of my body and the perspective on the world that it gives me. I don’t feel short but I am conscious of their height making me feel smaller.
During a recent Samurai Game I was sharing with the group some of the things George Leonard has incorporated in the experience to help us become more aware of what we do with our bodies. As I was speaking I walked towards a young woman who was significantly shorter than me. The closer I got the smaller she seemed to get. Her physical height wasn’t changing but somehow she was making herself appear smaller.
At work there is a woman who, I would guess, is even shorter. It is hard to know for sure because when you are near her she fills the room.
My PT was a professional dancer (obviously before he discovered how much joy he gets from making other people sweat…). He says the dancers would often be lined up from tallest to shortest. Using a ruler he would be somewhere in the middle but when he took his place he would often be told to stop messing around and go to the end – the tall end. The way he carried himself made him appear larger than he was. As a PT he has worked with more than one ‘tall person’ who seems intent on carrying themselves in a way that makes them appear as small as possible.
Some of us are tall and some of us are short. It makes no difference because what you have always heard is true.
Size does not matter – it is what you do with it that counts!
It is all about how you choose to show up in the world.
***
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how do you show up in the world?
I am sure you can understand why I go there. I can be whoever I want. Do what ever I want.
I hunt, fish and gather herbs. I have improved my first aid skills (admittedly out of necessity) and I can cook a wider range of meals that I would have ever thought possible from the ingredients I gather.
As in life, I have changed ‘career’ a couple of times now. Just to see what it is like really. To learn new things. I have made some mistakes along the way and made some choices that, with the benefit of hindsight, were not the best. But I am learning.
My life is pretty busy. Life is pretty busy. So I have to make a conscious choice to make the time to go. Make a conscious decision about who and how I am going to be when I show up. What it is that I am going to work on developing this time around? Maybe it is time to buy a horse and learn to ride?
This last few weeks I have spent some time there with a couple of other people. I wouldn’t say we are a team yet but we are trying to work together, to help each other get the most out of the time we have chosen to spend there. So there is another choice – to go alone or with others?
Whatever I decide, I know when I am almost there when I see this:
That button is the last thing you click on before you enter the realms contained within World of Warcraft. When you click on that button it is a small but very definite action that says “I am here and I am ready to play.”
More recently it says “I am here and I am ready to learn.”
On those days I take part in a course that aims to develop the effectiveness of small teams. My team members are based in Brazil, Chile and the USA and we are a mix of ages and experiences. It is a virtual team and our learning environment is the virtual world contained within World of Warcraft.
We have all chosen to participate in this course. We all understand that we are expected to put the time aside to allow us to focus on our work each time we meet. We gather in the audio chat room and once we are all there we all have to enter the world to do what we need to do together. We all have to decide how we are going to show up in the world today and then we click on that button.
That is the first practice that I am trying to take back into my real life and to the people who I work with “in the real world”.
- Make a conscious choice to participate.
- Make sure I have the time to focus on our work each time we meet without other distractions.
- Decide how I am going to show up.
- Enter the world.
It seems simple but I am already discovering how powerful it can be.
***
My thanks to one of the other participants of the WEST course for making the comment that prompted this post. If you enjoyed reading this or my other posts you can subscribe and receive them via email simply by putting your email address into the Email Subscription box just on the right of my blog home page. You will receive a confirmation email (which some systems will think is spam so keep an eye on your junk mail) that you need to acknowledge to complete the subscription process.
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don’t confuse the result with passing the test
I have been a student of Aikido since 1993. It has had a huge impact on my life – much of it unexpected. Aikido is what led me to the Samurai Game and my passion for Aikido is what is behind my efforts in recent years to undo a couple of decades of bad habits and get my body working properly again.
There are two things I love most about Aikido – its simplicity and its almost unfathomable complexity. And the way it permeates every aspect of my life if I let it.
Relax. Extend Ki. Harmonize. Enter. Lead.
Simple. Almost unfathomably complex.
Last week my teacher offered the class some simple advice about Ki testing.
Don’t confuse the result with passing the test.
Simple. Almost unfathomably complex.
How many “successful” people do you know who often get “results” but they don’t pass the test?
***
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follow your dreams – even if involves a cheesy tie
For his age, he is on the small side.
If you saw him sitting on the bench in the office kitchen like I did, you probably wouldn’t think much of him. His crooked grin might just make you look at him long enough to wonder why a fifteen year old is wearing a tie. The yellow earth moving machines that make up the pattern on that tie seem like an unusual choice – until you get to know a little of his story. His journey to this day hasn’t been a smooth one. It is true to say however that without the care and persistence of one man, Dr Andrew King (his father in everything except the biological sense), he would not be here today.
When you ask Andrew to tell the story of the last fifteen years a change comes over him. While he will rub the back of his neck and tell you that there were many time he thought they would never see this day, he is clearly pleased and proud of what they have achieved together.
To get this far is a dream come true and they are not stopping there. A trip to Europe is on the cards for the next few months that will include a visit to Bologna. If someone had suggested a year or two back that it might be possible to take him overseas, I know Andrew would have smiled and said “Look, that would be nice but we are just taking it one day at a time. We have a few things to sort out so we’ll see …”.
He was right.
They were supposed to make the trip last year but it took them longer than expected to get the paperwork right.
He got it done.
Now the fifteen year old in the engineers boots and yellow tie is off to the children’s book fair in Bologna. The dreams don’t stop there though. There will be other trips overseas. Andrew plans to talk to a number of schools to see if they can find a place for him.
A long way to come for a bear that was conceived in a sand pit.
Nobody can remember the exact date he came into this world. Andrew’s eldest son was three at the time and, being an Engineer, Andrew started to tell his son stories about a bear who loved creating things.
Although that’s not telling the whole story.
The stories Andrew started to tell his son were about the process of creating things. Of trying and failing. Of trying again and failing again. Again and again and again – ten times over. Of learning from each one of those failures and adapting your design. Of creating something that can solve our problems and make the world a better place. Of not giving up just because the first nine attempts failed to deliver what you had dreamed it would.
Early sketches of Engibear
That first story was the beginning of Engibear* but it contains within it the whole story of Engibear. In the fifteen years since that first day in the sand pit the stories have grown and changed. The early sketches of Engibear are rough but they contain the essence of the bear he has become. The bearbots (you will have to buy the book to find out how they fit into the story) have developed and grown along with their creator through a process of trial and error.
There have been false starts, promising relationship, disappointments and thrilling developments.
Through it all Andrew persisted, treating everything as a chance to learn and to improve but all the while staying true to his dream: To bring a character in the world who will share with kids his passion for the process of creating sustainable engineering solutions for the challenges we face.
It is a big dream and one day last week in an office kitchen in Brisbane I saw Engibear standing on his own two feet. Handmade, complete with the crooked grin, and only four inches high.
If you had seen him you probably wouldn’t have thought much of him. For those who know his story he is a source of inspiration and a wonderful example of how dreams can come true as long as you stay true to them.
There is even talk of him bringing out his own range of ties….
***
* ‘Engibear’ and ‘bearbots’ are the registered trademarks of Andrew King. Images used with permission. If you would like to be one of the first to receive a copy of the first book in the Engibear series then shoot me an email using the Contact Me page and I will put you in contact with Andrew.
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how can you live if you are not connected?
I heard the evening news tonight mention the rescue of two boys from a swollen creek. I wonder aloud if they were wearing shoes when they were rescued.
I had ridden home in the middle of the storms that would create that news item. It had all started well but by the time I decided to stop I wasn’t concerned about getting any wetter, it was more because I can’t see more than a couple of metres in front of me.
So I stop and take shelter as the sound of the falling water engulfs me. On my right the smell of mangroves and mud rises from the falling water. On my left a spontaneous piece of performance art (or perhaps performance poetry?) arises as cyclists braver than I come in out of the rain. The involuntary gasp that arises from their bodies as they ride through the column of water falling from the deck of the freeway above us can be seen so clearly that despite the rain you can hear it in the space behind your eyes.
I did what I am sure you would do next. I check to see that my mobile device was safe and dry and sent a text saying I was wet but OK. (I resist the urge to check Facebook because I know my battery is low. Where ever I am these days I always make sure I am connected. My diary, email, podcasts, books. I occasionally even check to see how many of you are reading my posts! I often wonder how you can live if you are not connected. But I digress…)
Standing there not looking at Facebook reminds me of the Michael Leunig cartoon that someone recently posted. (I hope he does not mind me sharing it here with you). It was nice but I recall it says nothing about thunderstorms – only the sun and clouds.
Later, after I have ridden again (in what turned out not to be a break in the rain) a dry old man standing by the river, clearly wiser than I as he has not left the shelter of the next bridge , laughs out loud as the same gasp arises from me. After riding in the rain it is drawn from me not because the falling water is cold, but because despite its huge volume the water has stolen the heat of the day from the road above and runs warm down my back and into my already sodden shoes.
After sharing in his laughter as we watch others come in from the rain as I had done, I chance my judgement and ride again. This time up from the river and beside the freeway. The steep climb leaves me smiling broadly. Do all those people sitting dry in their cars just metres away know what they are missing? Have they looked up to see the rainbow racing across the sky?
Further along the quiet gurgle of the creek that crawls along the storm water drain has become a swollen monster that consumes footbridges and footpaths alike. I stop and take a photo alongside the children who have crossed the road with their mothers to see the rising waters. Forced on to the road now I am alongside those sitting dry in their cars – heading upstream but following the flow of the traffic. Windows tightly shut I do not need my ears to know every radio is discharging regular road reports to help drivers avoid the inconvenience created by the gathering waters.
Not me. I turn off the road back towards the higher sections of the path and am finally able to cross the creek. On the other side of the bridge I see two pairs of shoes by the side of the road. It is the pair of purple football boots with Bronco’s socks that I can see most clearly. They look to have been discarded, but not lost. Left there in a hurry by boys (almost young men I imagine) headed towards the creek to connect with its rising power. It is a stupid and dangerous thing to do and I hope they will return soon for their shoes.
Beside me now the long grass and reeds still lie flat under the weight of the falling water while branches, previously held high above the path, hang low and threaten to unsaddle me. The dry gullies have become small streams that discharge debris over the well-known path that I feel like I am now riding for the first time. The light of the rainbow has been replaced by that particular shade of “after-the-storm green” that seems to exist only to amplify the sound of the water that creates it.
The water collected in my helmet chooses that moment to draw as it falls a path to the tip of my nose and is driven by the wind into my mouth. I gasp and spray the water back into the air.
In that instant, for the first time in a very long time, I feel recharged. I feel that I am connected.
I wonder how can you live if you are not?
***
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it should scare you what I can do
A small but significant milestone was reached this past week.
You might not think that it even warrants a mention but for me it was an important day – a day on which I did something that I have not been able to do for a very long time. In fact, I can not honestly remember (or even dream of) a time when I could.
That came as a bit of a shock. A double shock really. That I did it and that I can not remember a time when I could.
Which means that (as far as my mind is concerned) I believe I am, and have always been, a person who can not do that.
Except, I am not that any more. I have, and so I can.
Apparently.
And because of that, and because I did, I think it scared me. So much so that I haven’t tried to do it again since.
I think … I have been watching for signs to tell me that doing it has left me somehow newly (re-)incapacitated, caused some damage that means I will not (or should not) be able to do it again.
I think … that I am thinking that way because if I can find enough reasons I will be able to return to being what (as far as my mind is concerned) I have always been – a person who still can not do that. That is a place I know well. A place where I feel safe and protected by my limitations.
What makes it weirder is that I never intended for it to happen. If you looked at the list of things that I wanted to do, the things I wanted to achieve over the coming years you wouldn’t see it there. I suppose I had just assumed that I would always be a person who can not do that and that I would find ways to work around my limitations.
But I am not that person any more. I can and I have. And I made the change without even really trying.
(But even as I write I am aware of the messages coming from my mind… “Feel that ache? That is real! You can not argue with that. If you keep thinking you can do it again you will feel more of that…Believe me, you shouldn’t even try unless you really want to hurt yourself!“)
There is something deeply disturbing about it all and I think it is because it raises obvious questions – what else is there?
- What else is there that I believe I can not do (that is a long, long list) that I use to incorrectly define what I am and what I am not?
- What else is there that I do not even try to do because I believe that I never have means that I never will?
- What else is there that I haven’t even dreamed I am able to do that I am capable of achieving?
What else is there?
A small but significant milestone was reached this past week. I bent down and touched my toes and it has shaken my belief in who I am and what I am capable of. That might not scare you but it sure scares me.
***
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finding my own Way 