Beginner's mind, awkward turtle mind
Over the past three months, I've been thinking a lot about awkward turtle moments. I've become a much more introverted person. I remember when people used to think of me as the "life of the party." I laugh about that one, now.
While being at Starbucks, I developed some work-specific ways to open conversation. I had some amazing moments of connection with people when I opened myself to it, though the interactions were usually 1-2 minutes long. Now, here I am, years later, going into a field where I will have to talk with people, daily, for an hour at a time. I will be working on creating open space that allows people to share what's going on. Not always easy. Yet, the thought scares me, but doesn't stop me from still wanting to do this work.
It just makes me a bit anxious, sometimes.
So, today, in my inbox, as part of the Open Heart Project with Susan Piver, the title of the email was "Dorkiness and the Path to Mastery." The following is from that email:
Think about it. When you do something (whether it’s painting, hiking, HTML coding, or kissing), if you feel like you’ve already got it down, you miss the actual experience. Uncertainty creates receptivity. Awkwardness implies a kind of freshness, rather than doing it by rote. Beginner’s Mind has got to include some dorkiness, otherwise it’s not Beginner’s Mind.
So remember: when you feel those little (or big) cringes of embarrassment or fear of failure or whatever it is that prevents you from going deeper with what you love, be grateful. This is the gateway to mastery. Take your clumsiness as a sign that you’ve reached a new frontier and if you can go forward with both the love and the gawkiness intact, you’re in great shape. It’s the perfect combo.
Awkward turtle moments. That we don't have to be perfect, or have the answers. That we go forward with love, with attention, that we keep trying.
I keep getting tiny, constant reminders that fearlessness is not the absence of fear - it's standing up in the face of that fear and moving forward. It's standing, not shutting down. It's trying to remain open, soft, vulnerable, even when all I want to do is shut down, run away, or lash out. That this is the warrior's practice.
This entry was originally posted at http://dancingwaves.dreamwidth.org/851657.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
While being at Starbucks, I developed some work-specific ways to open conversation. I had some amazing moments of connection with people when I opened myself to it, though the interactions were usually 1-2 minutes long. Now, here I am, years later, going into a field where I will have to talk with people, daily, for an hour at a time. I will be working on creating open space that allows people to share what's going on. Not always easy. Yet, the thought scares me, but doesn't stop me from still wanting to do this work.
It just makes me a bit anxious, sometimes.
So, today, in my inbox, as part of the Open Heart Project with Susan Piver, the title of the email was "Dorkiness and the Path to Mastery." The following is from that email:
Think about it. When you do something (whether it’s painting, hiking, HTML coding, or kissing), if you feel like you’ve already got it down, you miss the actual experience. Uncertainty creates receptivity. Awkwardness implies a kind of freshness, rather than doing it by rote. Beginner’s Mind has got to include some dorkiness, otherwise it’s not Beginner’s Mind.
So remember: when you feel those little (or big) cringes of embarrassment or fear of failure or whatever it is that prevents you from going deeper with what you love, be grateful. This is the gateway to mastery. Take your clumsiness as a sign that you’ve reached a new frontier and if you can go forward with both the love and the gawkiness intact, you’re in great shape. It’s the perfect combo.
Awkward turtle moments. That we don't have to be perfect, or have the answers. That we go forward with love, with attention, that we keep trying.
I keep getting tiny, constant reminders that fearlessness is not the absence of fear - it's standing up in the face of that fear and moving forward. It's standing, not shutting down. It's trying to remain open, soft, vulnerable, even when all I want to do is shut down, run away, or lash out. That this is the warrior's practice.
This entry was originally posted at http://dancingwaves.dreamwidth.org/851657.html. Please comment there using OpenID.