After the Numbness

I missed posting last week, and what’s more, I feel like I have lost my voice.

Not in a permanent sense, more like I caught a bug and my voice went out.

I feel like I have been whispering for a few weeks, equally disturbed and intrigued by the husky quiet in my mind.

The usual murmurs and side stories and worries seem to have faded as I find myself entranced by the early spring here in the Bay Area. The plum blossoms and the magnolias are bursting with vibrance and riotous color, yet when I stare at them I feel inarticulate.

What can I possibly say to top this?

One of my biggest cases recently settled mid-trial, and as usual for a public defender, it didn’t feel like a victory.

The nature of a plea bargain in a criminal case is compromise, which means no one gets what they want, especially the person who is going to prison.

It all ended very quickly. I had been intense trial prep mode for months, and then a few weeks into the actual trial process suddenly it was over.

As I've reported, I have been struggling, experiencing intense anxiety along with sadness and a fearsome upwelling of imposter syndrome.

All of it has been in a spin cycle along with some objectively challenging life circumstances. (For example, we have medical issues in our extended family, and it's been very hard.)

So I expected, or at least hoped, I would feel some relief when the case was over.

Instead, I could feel nothing.

The truth is I was kind of a mess, which meant it was perfect timing to go to an Outside Circle Intensive.

Outside Circle is an all-gender emotional work weekend, facilitated by the the men of the Inside Circle, men who were formerly incarcerated in the state prison system, where they began doing emotional and personal work, as well as men and women from Women Within and Next Step, with a diverse group of participants from many other walks.

It was an impressive and powerful circle, crackling with energy right from the start.

I love these kinds of circles, and in many ways, I believe I am most alive at these times and places, most clear and open, most attentive and flexible.

And yet, the first day I felt disconnected and antsy.

To be honest, I had questioned if I should have even come at all, and had thought of bailing out more than once.

Still I knew it would help and that this was a place to reboot my system in mind, body, and spirit.

Yet here I was and all I wanted to do was leave.

I felt judgments arising about what was happening, even as I my mind chewed the bitter cud of the month I had just experienced.

Thanks to the work I have done with MKP and other modalities, I have gotten pretty good at knowing what I am feeling, but this was the absence of feelings.

This was numbness.

I had became like a ghost: present in the world, and yet disconnected. People would ask how I was doing, and it was hard to answer. I felt frozen like a statue. Inarticulate, vacant.

At the end of the day I told the circle I might not be back the next day for the conclusion, that I was feeling really really tired from the last few months of work, and that I needed a day off, a day at the beach, or on my bike.

They were so kind and understanding and supportive, inviting me to take care of myself even as they said they hoped I came back.

Later that night as I was making dinner, I suddenly began to sob.

The repressed sadness of the last months fell on me like a sudden rain shower, and the shell, or maybe it was a shield, of numbness that had accreted the last months softened and fell away.

My heart hurt with grief and loss and a feeling that it was all somehow my fault, my imposter syndrome springing into action to remind me of my alleged imitations and burdens.

As I stirred red tomato sauce, tears rolled down my face, and I knew that no matter what I would be heading back into the circle the next morning to do my work.

to be continued in two weeks...

Bee well friends, and thank you for your patience as my voice returns.

(February 25, 2019 - On Purpose Newsletter)

I is for Imposter Part Three (conclusion)

When I first learned about my shadow on my weekend in 2010, I was determined to rid myself of it forever.

If the shadow represents those aspects of myself that hide and repress, and that I sometimes project onto others, then it was clear to me that my shadow was a problem, and a problem that needed fixing.

If you have read my last few newsletters, you’ll appreciate the irony of this situation, as Ego and Shadow attempt to muscle each other out.

Shadow is whispering to me “you’re not good enough, you’re an imposter, and nothing you do will ever make any difference in this messed up world.”

And then the great fixer Ego flies in to save the day and rescue poor Dave from his bullying interior!

Talk about an internal conflict! Now one part of my mind is attacking another, and pretending it all for my own good.

Luckily I have learned over time to de-escalate this conflict, to do some interior restorative justice process, maybe even some internal community building.

I understand now that rather than try to destroy or banish my Shadow, instead I want to befriend and include it. And the same goes for my Ego.

I imagine a conversation between Ego and Shadow that looks like a dialogue between fierce political rivals, each bandying insults and lies and overstatements with emotionally manipulative language.

Ego insists there is a big problem here: Shadow is picking on Dave and messing up the program, telling me I am not measuring up, that the wheels are coming off the wagon, and that at any moment I will be exposed as the fraud I am. The spear of the attack is poison-dipped in fear and worry.

Shadow responds with a sneer: oh yeah Big Man Ego is here to fix everything and tell us all what to do, thank you for your toxic masculinity Bro! Well you can’t fix me! I am broken and unfixable, and I am the only one who can keep Dave safe from pain by keeping him small and contained: it’s for his own good!!

Enough already!

All this internal back and forth is exhausting, and only results in paralysis and rumination.

We need some unity here, some team work: it takes a village to raise a Dave, all voices are welcome and valued, but this is a collaborative process.

The big learning for me has been that there is no “I” that will figure this out, my consciousness is instead comprised of many voices, many perspectives.

Shadow has much to offer. He’s the one who encourages me to be careful and diligent. Even Imposter fear may provide motivation when I am slogging through transcript after transcript in preparing for my big trial. Of course there are positive motivations too, the desire to do a good job, to shine, to be of best service, but there is no doubt a bit of fear helps to keep the edge sharp.

Similarly, Ego is an essential voice: he is the one who provides structure and organization, who takes care of business. He’s the one who knows how to drive for goodness sake!

The problem arises when I get confused and suddenly I think I AM the shadow, or that I AM my ego. I lose perspective, as if my face is pressed up against the mirror.

When this happens, emotions take over, and I may become overwhelmed by the shadow’s fear or the ego’s self-righteous anger.

One thing I have learned from staffing on New Warrior Training Adventures is the power of teamwork. On the weekend, every man is critically important to the endeavor, and each has something brilliant to offer.

Where I have gotten into trouble on weekends is when I feel overwhelmed, like I am going to screw up, and the old Imposter syndrome emerges. I become afraid. I fear that I will mess up and it will be seen and I will be humiliated and maybe even kicked out. I try to figure it all out by myself, and fear telling anyone. This is a miserable way to spend a weekend!

What I have learned is that when this fear hits, it’s time to tell the truth and ask for help, and trust that the group can and will handle anything that comes up.

As I noted last time, it turns out that “I” really is for Imposter, and when I drop the I and embrace the We, so much of the fear and paralysis drops away.

Is there a place in your life where you can trade in some I for some We and get some relief?

(January 23, 2020 - On Purpose Newsletter)

I is for Imposter, Part Two

Part Two has been brewing for a while.

As I first wrote in early December, I have been preoccupied, if not actually Occupied, by Imposter Syndrome for about 6 weeks now. I wrote part one near the beginning of the descent, and I had planned to do part two in the next post.

Instead, the limiting belief about myself got even worse.

And, it seems I just hadn’t fermented enough in the stew of suffering and self-doubt.

Fermentation is the fifth stage of Alchemical transformational work, and there’s no blustering through it, no way to speed it up. Some things just take time.

Things got really intense during the holidays back home with family in Ohio. I experienced severe anxiety at times, sadness, and even some despair.

Thank goodness there were some really sweet moments in there too. Even, and perhaps especially, in the midst of crisis, it's good to be with family.

Our extended family is going through some stuff right now and we have all been challenged.

Then again, as best I can tell, Everybody on Earth is going through some stuff right now.

It seems like we‘re all at about Defcon 4 on the Freak Out Meter on a day to day basis, and then, Life Happens on top of it, and boom, it’s a full on nuclear reaction!

Of course, part of my own little Chernobyl is built on the pernicious shadow story that I am an Imposter and the fact that I am having a really hard time right now just seems to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt

My shadow whispers to me, “dAVE, dude, you are supposed to be such a grounded wise guy! You’re supposed to be the solid one! Everyone is depending on you. But look at you you’re a mess! Just look at you! You are a Fraud!”

What helps me in these hard times, which my beloved Jun Po Denis Kelly Roshi affectionately refers to as a “cranial-rectal inversion,” is to do my practices.

I meditate, I do yoga, I walk many miles a week, I read poetry, I get enough sleep, I tell people that I love them, and I remember my mission:

I heal the world by listening with my whole body, telling the truth, and asking for help.

I am really digging my mission these days. It’s changed many times since my weekend in 2010, but this one is really working.

Listening with my whole body means using more than my ears. It means listening with my heart, with my gut, and with my skin. It means listening beyond words and sounds and ideas. It means giving my attention all the way, and for a moment, letting go of the tasks and the doings and even the time of day.

Telling the truth means pulling back the curtain on my imposter and exposing him. It means writing this post. It means when my friend asks me how I am doing I don’t just say “Great” or “OK” when that’s just not accurate. Telling the truth means saying “I am having a hard time” which then opens the door to a conversation of depth and connection, or at least the potential of that.

Asking for help means reaching out for support. It means calling my mentors and asking if we can talk today. It means admitting that I am overwhelmed and I really need someone to take on some of the load. It means taking the I out of the Imposter, and remembering that this isn’t all on me, or even about me.

When I tell myself the story of “I”, it feels like I am alone and there is no one who can help and no one who will understand, or that there is no one whom I want to burden with my struggle. I feel alone, and then the shame and embarrassment of feeling shitty just heightens the feeling.

When I tell myself the story of “I”, it feels like I can’t handle this, this world, this life, this This.

What I am learning is that the story of “I” is at the very foundation of the Imposter syndrome. Which means the healing medicine is to inhabit the story of We. We are in this together. We can handle this. We can support each other. We is the opposite of alone.

Next time, I’ll dig a little deeper into We and the way in which staffing NWTAs has helped me to learn to let go of the I in Imposter, and jump on the We team.

I admit this post feels unfinished, and I am letting that go too. It’s the best I can do for now, and that’s enough.

(January 8, 2020 - On Purpose Newsletter) 

I is for Imposter

In my last post I wrote about the many forms that my Ego can take, but the one that’s getting a lot of air-time in my head lately is the Imposter, as in Imposter Syndrome.

I get this one a lot actually.

For example, I am preparing for a big piece of litigation this winter. It’s heavy, with many people’s fate in the balance, and it could go in many directions.

The truth is that I have a great deal of experience in this arena, having served as a Public Defender trial lawyer for nearly 25 years. I am very well prepared, I know this case intimately, I have a theory and strategy that I believe can be successful, and I have support from a great clerk and the rest of my office. I am very good at this.

And yet.

I also have this very intense sense that I don’t actually know what I am doing; that I am going to screw the whole thing up; and that it will be clear to everyone in the aftermath what a fraud and imposter I have been all these years. Lives will be ruined. Injustice will be done. And it will all be my fault.

Ouch. It actually hurt to write that out. As in, I literally winced. Ouch.

I don’t like to see these thoughts set free in the world!

Indeed, the Imposter, greatly prefers, and even demands, that I never tell anyone my fears, that I keep them all to myself in the dark and shadowy recesses of my mind, and that I put up the very convincing and confidence-inspiring front of which I am so very capable.

How unfair is that! My Imposter is convinced that he is no imposter at all when it comes to putting up a good front! That’s one of his favorite tools!

The Imposter whispers to me the oldest stories: don’t admit you are afraid. Don’t tell them you are waking up anxious in the middle of the night. Don’t tell them about the procrastination and the distraction, about the very strong desire you have to numb out and not feel anything at all rather than this painful discomfort of fear and lack of confidence.

The truth is I have experienced this Ego manifestation throughout my life.

Whether it was swimming in the state championships, or playing the lead in a play, or appearing before the Court of Appeals, or bringing home a brand new baby daughter with my wife from the hospital 18 years ago.

(Flashback to August 2001: I am outside the hospital at the car installing the baby seat, thinking the whole time, You Can NOT BE Serious! You’re just going to let us take this baby HOME??? WTF!!! We seriously have NO IDEA what we are doing! HELP!!!)

In the sweetest of ironies, it turns out that for me the Imposter persona is itself an Imposter.

Imposter Dave pretends to be real, to be a manifestation of my human limitations, an expression of my humility, and even an adversary of my narcissist tendencies.

Yet, Imposter Dave is really just my Shadow in disguise, which is to say my most deeply held belief, the one I hide away and pretend is not there.

My shadow belief tells me that I am not good enough, that I Don’t Have What It Takes, and that nothing I do will ever make any difference in the world.

In the public defender world this shadow belief often manifests in the form of Burnout, when I start to believe the story that all of my hard work is not making any difference, that I may in fact be a part of the problem, instead of a part of the solution.

Ouch. There it is again. It hurts to write that out, even though I have a lot of practice in identifying my shadow after 9 years of sitting in ManKind Project circles.

And yet perhaps the most important thing I have learned in doing Men’s Work with The ManKind Project is that I am Not Alone.

Indeed, I would estimate that about 80% of the men I talk to in various circles have this very same belief. It’s ubiquitous!

(For those wondering, the other 20% seem to have the narcissist shadow, that they are The One Who Can Solve Everything, so Get Out of the Way. We could debate, but IMHO it’s hard to say which one is harder to deal with.)

The very good news is that both of these shadows are simply beliefs, not data. They not True in any real sense. They are stories we tell ourselves, that I have told myself, for a very long time.

In my next post I will dig deeper into Imposter Syndrome and some ways to address it. In the meantime if you have some ideas on this juicy topic, please write me and I will include them (with permission) in the next newsletter.

(December 3, 2019 - On Purpose Newsletter)

From the Department of Ego

A few weeks ago, we went to the beach for four days of vacation. The sun was shining and warm and we didn’t do much and it was heavenly.

In truth, I was actually a little worried about taking the time off. I seem to have developed a story that it’s hard for me to sit still. I tell myself that I am naturally antsy and energetic and happiest when I am busy, like a field dog, delighted while herding but skittish and distracted the rest of the time.

Of course, this story is sheer hogwash. It is one part Protestant work ethic, one part a persistent idea that Doing is in itself an act of virtue, and one part the idea that Scarcity reigns. Like a bad scientist I have cherry-picked evidence to support the theory. Mix these delusions with some liberal-privileged-upbringing guilt, top them with an earnest and heartfelt desire to save-the-world and relieve-all-suffering, and you have a basic blueprint for my Ego.

Let’s call him Ego-Dave.

My ego is the part of me that gets stuff done. He’s the one that executes plans, keeps track of details, sends lots of emails, and generally holds it all together. He thrives on tasks, and he is an extremely capable entity.

As a result folks ask Ego-Dave to do all kinds of things. This makes him feel important and real, and encourages him to want to run everything, particularly Me.

The problem is that Dave the Ego is not really Me: he is in fact a construct, a piece of software, or a figment of divine imagination. As Eckart Tolle and Mohammed and others have wisely noted, the ego is a wonderful servant, but a terrible master.

So how do I put my Ego in his place?

This is a delicate bit of business, as I certainly don’t want to destroy him. After all I need him to take care of things. He is very useful!

I also don’t want to disable him artificially. I used to do that with intoxicants, giving my ego involuntary and occasionally violent vacations, with a hangover as a bonus round of sitting around inert and really slacking off. As a strategy this worked, but as a practice it turned out to be damaging and unsustainable.

The trick is to keep my Ego on as a willing, able and enthusiastic helper, while also keeping him firmly in his place. This means giving him a specific and delineated role: a job with parameters and boundaries. I need to fence him in.

I have tried several strategies.

For example, I have tried hiring him on as a Contractor. He’s the one who executes plans, and fits all the pieces together. He is the boots on the ground guy, who’s not afraid to get dirty or work hard and late.

This turned out to be a bust, and the trouble is in the title. If the real Me is a timeless boundless awareness that is embodied in this world, then the Contractor is the one who contracts, or shrinks the world to make it manageable.

The Contractor must adhere to linear time. Indeed he may even create it: if time is an illusory construct then calendars, dates, alarm clocks are his tools. He creates duties and obligations and agreements. He does logistics, and collaborates with others to manifest intention into matter, and brings things into existence through attention. There is a magical quality to the Contractor archetype, but from a modern sensibility it seems more technological.

The problem is that Ego-Dave the Contractor is always jockeying for control. He wants to be the Boss! Ironically, Ego-Dave has a huge ego!! He is convinced that he should make the decisions on all the contracts, but he never wants to say no. It’s like the more he does, the more he wants to do! He oversteps his duties.

He’s the one who loves to answer the question “How are you?” with a hearty grinning “Busy!!!” He’s the one who earnestly believes his entire value as an entity is based on how many things he can do at once.

I have tried that archtetype too: The Juggler.

Ego-Dave the juggler masterfully keeps everything in the air with a touch here, a touch there, tossing and multitasking through life.

The juggler likes to think that he isn’t working that hard (after all, it’s FUN!), and he’s a big show-off too. He loves the attention of others, and he adores praise and applause.

The trouble with Ego-Dave the Juggler is that he always wants to add another ball. He wants to be the best juggler ever: the one who can keep the entire universe in the air.

When I let the juggler run the show, things get out of control in a hurry. He pretends to be easy breezy, but he hates dropping a ball, and the fear of letting them all go at once is agonizing.

The juggler archetype was a great improvement from Atlas though.

Not so long ago, before I even realized that my Ego was a story, I used to see myself as that primordial Titan who held the universe on his shoulders. Atlas is incredibly strong and powerful, and ripped and sexy in a bodybuilder kind of way. He takes so much pride in his ability to hold it all.

It was a huge relief when I finally realized that it wasn’t my job to hold everything all the time: that it wasn't all my fault.

The big problem is that fundamentally my Ego is a workaholic. He never wants to stop, and when he gets excited about something, watch out, because he is going deep. He gets very focused, and he gets off on the adrenaline and the excitement and the pressure.

Which all leads back to my latest Ego-Dave story that I am a field dog and my purpose is to run around and chase stuff and tend the herd. Of course, this story has a lot in common with the other archetypes, in the common theme of busyness and taking care of others.

Thankfully, I am getting better and better at seeing through the stories of my Ego. And yet, still sometimes I fall in so deep that I think it’s all really true. I believe that I am in the movie, rather than watching it. And this movie is all action all the time, like one of those dreams where you never stop running from some mysterious threat.

When I am lost like this, I am no longer a spirit having a human existence, or a boundless awareness peering out from a human form. Instead I am a Contractor, a Juggler, an Atlas, or a Field Dog, and I experience fear and sadness and overwhelm.

When I fail to put Ego in his place, then I am indeed his humble servant, and I find that to be very challenging.

Thank goodness for vacation. When we went to the beach and lounged around the pool and played games it was absolutely delicious. Once I got a refreshing taste of it, I wanted to sit still forever. I saw right through my Ego-story, and remembered again how good it feels to be free.

Seeking out this space is the reason I meditate. When I sit and follow my breath, I drink in the experience of boundless awareness. It is fleeting to be sure, but even a sip of that spacious expanse is a tremendous blessing.

Meditation is a way of seeing through the stories of the Ego. By making space for the “real me”, the part of me that is full of wonder and amusement and gratitude to simply sit still and breathe, I am setting boundaries for my Ego-stories.

What an irony: by letting go of thoughts and stories, I actually create a container for my ego. By sitting still and doing nothing, I establish parameters for my Ego-archetypes. By rebooting my computer I remind the Ego that he is indeed simply a useful piece of software, and not my operating system.

What a relief to be back in charge! Take that Ego-Dave, You’re not the boss of Me!!!

(November 19, 2019 - On Purpose Newsletter)

From the Department of Wobble

I have been on such a roll the last few months.

I have experienced big personal growth with lots of juicy insights; I have been taking care of my body and it feels good; we got our daughter Anya all set up at college and she is doing great; our son Enzo is thriving and just turned 16; and my wife Alycia and I are in a sweet groove.

If you had talked to me in person, you'd have likely heard me say I have been feeling a flow state, a sense of ease and spaciousness, a trust and faith in myself and our community and our ability to handle all sorts of challenges.

And then I started to feel the wobble.

It started very slightly: a morning when I woke up and felt so tired I could barely get out of bed. Immediately, my internal alarm went off: Uh oh... this feels like depression, this feels like danger.

And, I stayed awake, noticed the sensation, got some extra rest, did my practices and felt much more energetic the next day.

Then I had another morning like that.

Hmmmmm. Something is definitely happening.

Last Monday I could feel fear coming up, specifically the sort I call anxiety, which is where I have this general feeling that something is wrong, that everything is going wrong, that the wheels are coming off the wagon and there is going to be a spectacular crash ANY MOMENT!!!

Yes, I know this flavor of fear very well.

This morning I woke up too early, worrying about work, worrying about money, worrying about Syria, worrying about some people very close to me who are struggling, worrying about going to yoga for goodness sake.

This is Fear.

The good news is that I have been working with this for a long time, and I know this Fear.

I know that it's a body sensation, where my shoulders get tight, and I scrunch my neck like I am looking at my phone but I am not, and my breathing gets shallow, and even my vision seems affected. I see danger everywhere.

Thankfully, I have learned over the years that there is a wisdom in the wobble.

For example, I am reminded that it's important to pay attention to what's arising in front of me, but not too closely.

It's like skiing in the trees, or mountain biking on single track, or like walking on a curb.

It's essential that focus my gaze on the place I want to go, not on the place I fear.

I have learned that the wobble is not inevitable and relentless, and not a story with only one ending. In fact, many times I can right myself with self-care and self-love and a gentle coming back to my body, as I discussed in my last post about meditation and failure resilience.

So here I am.

I am feeling afraid, wishing I was still in flow, wishing I could go to Hawaii for a few months and check out, wishing it was all somehow different. I wish so much it was different, that I wouldn't have to feel this discomfort.

And yet...

Here I am.

My mission: I heal the world by listening with my whole body, telling the truth, and asking for help.

I am living my mission, and I am feeling fear. In fact, the fear is supporting my mission and giving me a chance to live it fully.

I am working with the wobble, and the wobble is not me, it is an experience I am having at the moment, and there is a wisdom in the wobble, if I choose to listen.

Here I am.

(October 22, 2019 - On Purpose Newsletter)

From the Department of Abundance

On Labor Day, I got back home from an 11 day trip to Black Rock City, home of Burning Man, and though we Burners like to Welcome each other Home, in truth, my home is in San Francisco with my sweetie Alycia and Enzo and Trixy the Dog, and Anya when she is back in town from college.

And, I do truly feel at home out there too. There is a way in which a part of my heart does live in BRC, and yet, for me home is a state of mind, not a place.

It was a week of miraculous wonder, and laughter that made my belly sore, and everlasting hugs, and deliciously deep conversations, and magical connections and moments of synchronicity that in my younger and smaller days I would have thought were just coincidence.

It's very easy for me to get stuck in a narrow and limiting view of reality.

I was raised a scientific materialist, and then hardened in the numbing crucible of law school. There is a part of me that is so scared of being a chump and a dupe, the old part of me that is suspicious of kindness and good fortune, the part of me that doubts and thinks that cynicism and skepticism and worrying will keep me safe, the part that is always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Thankfully, I have learned to love that part of me, along with the other parts that I wish were different, like the part that tells me I am not good enough and that I need to please everyone and say yes even when I know I don't have the time and space, and the part of me that tells me I am alone and a freak and that nothing I do really can ever make a difference in this vast world.

That part of me I will call Scarcity, because it lives in a reality tunnel that assumes that there is not enough, not enough food, or love, or room for trust and compassion.

Scarcity is that part of me that rests on a belief that life is a zero-sum game and I need to be ever-vigilant.

The biggest and best reason that I keep returning to Burning Man is because of the people, the ones who burn so bright and so beautifully, and who love me and accept me even when I crash the truck or lose a ticket or forget the super important thing I was supposed to bring. They accept me and hold me when I am ready to give up, and when I feel lonely in a crowd and just want to hide.

I love our family of Bees and Burners and Artists and Radiant Souls so much. I am profoundly grateful and I never ever take this community for granted.

And, the second big reason I put so much effort into my 21st trip to the playa is that out there I can pierce my shadow of Scarcity.

Out there I am able to see, again, that the truth of life is that there is more than enough for all of us, that the only thing that holds us back is our fear and our programming that there is not enough to go around, our patterned story that struggle and strife and war and hate are what will keep us safe.

Yet the truth is there is no safety.

This life is profoundly unsafe and temporary.

Just as Black Rock City arises from the dust and within a few weeks disappears again without a trace, just as the Man stands so tall and proud and regally as an Axis Mundi for the world of imagination and love that is BRC and then burns to ashes in a moments, and just as the beautiful circle of our camp and our city will never ever exist again in the same way, I am reminded and inspired, again, to celebrate this moment, this breath, this opening again and again to the truth of Abundance.

My heart is blown open, again, and I am raw and tender, and I have tears in my eyes as I write this because I am so happy and so grateful and so sad this years's manifestation is complete.

And I am above all filled with hope and optimism.

Despite all the evidence out there, we are indeed Good Monkeys.

We humans can build and create and connect and share and love and support each other in the most challenging of situations. We can be here for each other through it all, and we can celebrate and we can rejoice and give thanks.

This is our gift, this is our opportunity, and above all this is our birthright.

I love you all so much, my friends, my family, my bees, my brothers and sisters.

Please find the place where you too can feel the abundance of life, where you can be held and caressed and loved, where you can share the miraculous Gift that is YOU!

You ARE the Gift! We ARE the Gift!

And We are Infinite and We are Eternal and We are Powerful Beyond Measure.

Burn Every Day my dear ones.

Burn Bright and Hot and with as much Love and Hope as you can muster.

There is not a moment to waste.

(September 24, 2019 - On Purpose Newsletter)

From the Department of Accountability

Well it happened. I blew it and missed a posting. Ugh.

On Tuesday August 27, I was far away from my computer at Burning Man making my annual pilgrimage. The truth is I realized it even before it happened, as I was madly packing all the things four days earlier.

And, I decided to just skip it.

I could have at least posted a note acknowledging that I was not going to post that day, but I had a story I was too busy and too excited and too distracted even for that.

Out on the playa, I had an amazing day.

I volunteered most of the day at the Media Mecca reception center for journalists, and then at 4 PM got into a pink and jeweled outfit for our camp’s now annual Flablngle Roving Dance Party.

Sometime during the day I had a moment of sadness and shame when I realized I was out of integrity with my commitment to post every two weeks, and I admit I beat myself up for a couple minutes. What arose was that old tired story that I am not good enough, and I am a fraud and a fake, an imposter who pretends to write about purpose and mission when in fact, I am actually a screw-up.

Happily, I caught myself and went to my training and my tools. I quikcly decided that this was the perfect opportunity for Accountability.

Among the myriad amazing gifts of The ManKind Project, accountability is for me the biggest one.

Before I learned about this process, I used to screw up and then punish myself for a long time, indulging and even wallowing in my shadow beliefs, making the case like the good lawyer that I am, for my own sucky-ness.

Then I learned that Accountability and Integrity are not about being perfect.

Indeed, it’s the opposite.

Accountability is about recognizing that when I blow it and make a mistake, the most important next step is to own it, clean it up, learn from it, and tell about it.

In this way, every mistake becomes an opportunity for growth and evolution and even leadership by modeling for others.

Imagine if more leaders in our society showed up in this way, rather than the opposite. We see our leaders shy away from ownership, shun accountability and truth, and instead strain to blame others or cover it up.

So here goes my Accountability Process:

What was the Agreement or Commitment: That I would post a purpose newsletter post every two weeks on Tuesday.

What did I do instead? I went to Burning Man, and blew off the post completely

What is the possible Impact on others? loss of trust in me, disappointment, concern that MKP is not an organization of integrity and follow-through, loss of interest in the Purpose Newsletter, confusion

What was the impact on me? shame, regret, self-criticism, writing this post now about accountability, exposure, and also freedom to do what I want, setting down a burden, writing this post now

What was the Shadow underlying my choice? the belief that led to this choice was, partly, that nothing I do really matters, that it doesn’t make any difference if I kept my agreement, because no one cares or will notice. AND, a separate competing belief that I am above the rules, I am special, and I can do what I want

Is this the man I want to be? No. I want to be a man who keeps his agreements and commitments, and who holds and understands that what he does matters and makes a difference, and who understands that though I am indeed special, this does not exempt me from keeping my agreements and commitments.

To be clear, this is a process which is best done in a dyad or group, with a facilitator asking the questions, while listening deeply and inviting the man doing the work to dig deeper.

I invite you, readers, what other questions do you have for me? What am I missing? What other opportunity is there for me in this process?

Often this process ends with an act of service, which might allow me to make a new agreement and then keep it, or to do something which pierces the shadow which led to the choice.

Today I offer a poem I wrote a ways back as an act of service, and a photo of the Flablingle. I am the one with the pibk parasol at center right.

Thank you for being here and for hearing my effort to get back in integrity.

Have a wonderful day brothers and sisters!

Angel within

Michelangelo

saw

the angel

in the marble

and did

not stop

carving until

he

was

free.

Winged

and gossamer,

lithe and strong,

love itself.

is it hubris

or humility

to believe

such art

lives

inside

of me?

Certainly I

have been

the block,

so hard,

silent,

and alone.

As I have

been

a sculptor

straining to

uncover

from stone’s

cold embrace

the space

inside of

a breath.

And I have

been the

angel

on a sunny

afternoon,

or in a

long-anticipated hug.

Must it be

one or the other

or is it the question

itself

which

binds

the angel within.

(September 9, 2019 - On Purpose Newsletter)