Moving from “blame” to “responsibility” is one of those shifts that can turn a life upside down.
Yet, it is not an easy one.
In a way, blaming is like taking a painkiller.
When something or someone hurts me, I take my blame pills, and the pain fades. Nothing changes, I know. But the pain is gone, and I can keep going on with my life.
But the cause of the pain is still there. And anytime it comes back, I’ll need a higher dose of blaming to dull the pain.
To take responsibility means to look into the source of that pain and act to solve the cause. Unfortunately, often this can make the suffering even worse at the beginning.
I believe this is why blaming comes so easy. In particular, when we are the ones hurting ourselves.
I’ve always been good at this one.
Years of training in blaming myself for every little mistake, so I could relieve myself from the struggle to change.
Even now that I’ve learned the lesson, it’s easy to slip into the blaming mode.
So, this post is a note to self.
A way to remind me that to blame is to look back, so if I want to move forward, I have to take responsibility and do something.
“Intuition is really a sudden immersion of the soul into the universal current of life, where the histories of all people are connected, and we are able to know everything, because it’s all written there.” — from The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho
Intuition is often described as a spiritual moment. Satori, eureka, illumination, a muse. Whatever you call it, it is a moment of connection when we suddenly know something as if it comes from the outside. For a brief moment, you tune into the frequency of the universe and capture a glimpse of its infinite knowledge.
In my experience, however, the universe whispers.
So, if you want to hear anything at all, you must silence the noise within and without you.
Both the constant stream of information flooding your senses, and the relentless chatting of your mind.
Only in silence, when your inner and outer field is clean, you can hear the universe whispering to your soul.
I am a spiritual seeker.
And my spiritual journey is also at the essence of what I do.
I believe that when we learn to surrender to our bigger who, we can move beyond the boundaries of our mind. We can source from the infinite creative potential of the universe.
And here’s come the challenge.
Bringing words like “spirituality” or “consciousness” in business conversations is not an easy task. Yes, you can try to translate and frame them into the language of the business, but it’s easy to fall into old and tired ideas.
These are challenging times, everything happens at an incredible speed. Everything is connected, and the world is getting smaller and smaller. Individuals and organisations are looking for new and different answers. But that it’s possible only if we ask new and different questions.
It’s not about framing my spiritual essence into the language of the business. It’s about bringing more of it. And to do that, I must raise the quality of my questions.
If I want better answers, more significant ideas, more disruptive breakthrough than I must ask bolder, more courageous and challenging questions.
“Breakthrough questions for unlocking our personal creativity. For creativity rarely begins with an answer. Breakthrough questions should therefore lead us into the unknown.” – The way of nowhere
For months I’ve been seeking the answer to an important personal question. But the answer eludes me. Even worst, the harder I try, the farther I feel from any clarity.
Being entirely honest, it’s not the first time. Many times in the past, I found myself lost in a quest for an answer or a solution. And too often, I got so entrenched in the problem that I couldn’t see any way out.
Ironically, most the time it is when I give up trying that the answer emerges.
With this awareness, at the turn of year, a voice in my head began saying “then why are still looking? Just stop trying and wait for the answer.“
But, I’ve been there before, and there’s a caveat.
A thin line that we must pay attention to.
The thin line separating the passive waiting for something from the active creation of space for something to emerge.
The universe is actively invested in our journey, so it tries to help, giving us signs and hints. But it does so using its own language.
So we must engage in learning the language of the universe. We must open up, expand our senses, actively listen and observe. And then act on the signs we read.
If we cross that thin line and we passively wait for the universe to speak our language, we may dry out in the wait.
Sometimes life is messy. Looking at my experience, I should probably say “most of the time”.
There is natural messiness in the world and in human beings.
And it can be scary. This mess is what makes things unpredictable, and our brain doesn’t like unpredictability.
As an efficient prediction machine, the human brain is continuously ingesting and analyzing information from the surrounding to infer what will happen next.
I realized how much energy I spent trying to figure out things, to find the right place for all the pieces. To create a reasonable order so I can make sense of things and give peace to my rational mind.
Sometimes it’s a fascinating and rewarding process. I love when I can create a frame through which I can read reality and act on my understanding. It’s like finding a map so I can go straight to the treasure.
Other times, however, it is exhausting. It becomes an endless effort to fit everything until I reach a point when I even forget what I was trying o achieve and why. In the meanwhile, I’m not doing any step forward.
So, I’ve decided to embrace the mess. Once we accept that life is messy and we can’t figure out everything in advance, we can move forward and maybe discover treasures that we didn’t know exist.
So, bring on the mess and let’s have fun.
“Randomness is not just inevitable; it is part of the beauty of life.” – Ed Catmull
“The best communicators learn to align their intentions with their impact.“
I found this sentence a few days ago on Conversational Intelligence by Judith E. Glaser. Since then, I’ve been pondering about this alignment between intentions and impact.
Using Judith words; “While intention is what someone wants to make happen or plans to accomplish, the impact involves the quality of the experience from the perspective of the receiver—and that impact may not correspond with what the communicator intended.“
So, I do align these two things? In particular, knowing that the impact of my communication is not something I have control over. Or do I?
My understanding is that to tune intention and impact, I must work on my awareness.
First of all, I must be aware of my true intentions. Often there is a gap between the stated intentions and true ones underlying my words and actions. I don’t know you, but I can be very good at deceiving myself. So, working on awareness and being fully aware of my intention is half of the work.
Then I must also be aware of the other. I must learn to read the signs in the people and the environment I want to connect and communicate with. Only by becoming aware of both of them, intentions and impact, I can create the alignment needed to build trust.
We’re already one week into this new year and, after a short break to refill the batteries, I feel the need to get back to my practices.
But, before I restart my small thing called One Apple A Day, I thought it was a good idea to welcome 2020.
It won’t be a long post like the one I wrote to say goodbye to 2019. With last year there was history.
The new one is like a big blank canvas.
I don’t know what will happen this year. What colours will end up on that canvas and what images will appear at the end.
I don’t know, and it’s a gorgeous feeling. One of anticipation and excitement.
So, this welcome message to the new year is concise. It’s more like a letter of intent. And I’m writing it in my usual 15 minutes morning slot, to be sure I’m not wasting time with clichè or trivialities.
My guiding word for 2020 is Sustainability.
I’ll write more about it in the next days, but in short, it’s a word that speaks about balance and transformation. It’s about small daily steps and consistency. It’s the ingredient connecting identity and discipline.
Welcome, dear 2020.
I’m ready. Let’s begin.
My grandfather knew when it was the right day to prune the vines. He always knew when it was the right night to go out fishing for eels. He couldn’t really explain how he knew it, but he did.
My grandmother knew how to make a perfect traditional cake. Many people from the village used to bring her the ingredients and she never disappointed, no matter how different the flour or the eggs were. Though, she didn’t know the recipe. When we manage to elicit a structured formula from her, the results weren’t as good.
Yesterday evening a dear friend told me about his great grandfather.
He was the man everyone called to get fruitful grafts on the vineyards. Throughout his career, he kept a daily log with all his weather observations. But what made him successful was his ability to retrieve the right information from his yearslong almanack and know the most propitious moment to make a successful graft. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but he did.
They all knew without knowing. Each one of them knew, deep in their own essence, how to read the invisible signs of the universe.
That is wisdom to me.
The subjective knowing beyond the objective knowledge.
Unfortunately, the subjective knowing can’t be modelled or structured, and so it cannot be taught.
You can only acquire it through observation and experience.
It takes time, discipline and awareness.
And the willingness to detach from the outcome.
I love frameworks and schemas. I love finding them and, some times, creating them. And the simpler they are, the better.
I get the chills anytime I find a frame that helps me read the reality at a glance. A useful framework is like a treasure map. It provides me with guidance to move through reality and find what I’m looking for.
Frameworks and structures create also order. They draw lines dividing and connecting things, so I can make sense of what I experience.
At the same time, I cherish chaos and the shapeless space outside and between frames and structures.
Lately, I’ve realised how much energy I spent trying to fit into some frames or boxes while at the same time, I was evading or escaping them. It is as if a side of me wants to belong to something while the other side craves the freedom of nothing.
Not sure what this post is about. There are morning when I wake up with such clarity that my fingers write on their own. Other mornings are foggier. I have glimpses of something, an image, a word or a feeling. Those days, writing is like walking in the dark. My steps are hesitant, not knowing where I will end up. If I ever get somewhere.
This morning is one of them. And weird enough, when it’s too dark to see, maps become useless. So, maybe this what this post is all about. Reminding me that maps are useful, but when it’s dark, my only guidance is my senses and my inner compass.
Can you remember when you were a child, and everything was a discovery? You knew nothing, so you had to be creative and figure out everything on your own.
Before we know.
I woke up with these three words in my mind.
Sometimes I have the feeling that knowledge is narrowing my possibilities. Because I know how to do something, I’m not challenged to search for other ways. Maybe there are no different ways, but I’ll never know because I’ll automatically go with what I know.
“Reality is out there.”
I remember reading this quote in an article about native americans. Still, I may be wrong, and it’s just a false memory.
Anyway, to me, this simple sentence always spoke about wonder and innocence. I am aware that we see the world not as it is, but as we are. We always filter reality through the lens of our beliefs, so the reality as we experience it is, at least in part, an internal construction based on our knowledge.
When we don’t know, we can’t make assumptions, and we experience reality for what it is. Like when we travel to new places, or we meet new people.