Connecting Without Words

I was reminded last weekend of the inherent wisdom, innocence and beauty of children, and how I have received so much from watching my son Alex and how he impacts the people around him.

We were invited over for dinner and connection over to Bryan-Julie's home, where they have a 2-year old daughter named Sierra who is just beginning to communicate with words. Once we arrived, Alex almost immediately went over to her and started to talk to her in his own way. He introduced himself and proceeded to teach her how to give "high-fives" where he would raise his hand, and he would pull her hand toward his. They must have played at that for at least 5 minutes. After a while, Alex went to show off his new skateboard tricks and play catch with her dad Bryan.

After dinner and after some time of connecting, it was Sierra's turn to get ready for bed, so Julie took her away to the bathroom. Around this time, I told Alex that it was time for us to go to our gaming fun night at Dave & Busters. After saying goodbye to everyone in the living room, and while working our way toward the door, Julie brought Sierra out to say goodbye because Sierra was crying and calling out for Alex by saying his name. When the two got together, Sierra raised her hand, and when Alex raised his, she proceeded to give Alex a series of "high-fives" one right after the other. She did this with a large beautiful smile on her face, which said "joy" all over it.

All of the adults standing around the children were mesmerized by the purity and innocence of the moment. Alex was touched by her gesture, and returned the high-fives with a kiss on the cheek. Nathan was quick on the draw of his IPhone, which has a camera on it, and happened to catch it in the moment.

We all felt a deep joy in celebrating Sierra's connection with Alex, our connection as a community, and the beauty that these children were showing us -- just by being themselves. This incident reminded me of something I read long ago:

"We must become like little children in order to enter the kingdom of heaven."

A New Chapter

Last week was filled with quality time with my son Alex. So, taking him to the airport for his flight back to Houston brought some sadness for me on Sunday. Though I got temporary relief from it as my sister, who lives in Seattle happened to have a layover in LAX on route to Maui. I was able to meet her for lunch in Hermosa Beach with a couple of her friends. We had fun chatting, celebrating Easter, the weather, and playing a bit in the sand and getting our feet wet before she had to catch her flight. Afterwards, I went roller-blading on the Strand North to Manhattan Beach and then South to Redondo Beach and then back to 15th Street, where I had parked. I felt a quiet sense of awe at all of the beauty around me; it was a gorgeous day as the sun was out, there weren't too many clouds, the ocean was a deep blue, and I enjoyed watching all of the different people around me.

After I was done roller-blading, I got back to my car and started driving South on the Pacific Coast Highway, or PCH. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I knew that general direction felt right. I ended up driving through my old neighborhood -- my old hang-out spots, and had my own little trip through "memory lane". I ended up parking my car in a section with a panoramic view of the ocean that I had not been to in 10 years. I found a bench near my car and sat there quietly, looking out on the ocean, noticing all of the details, and generally just taking it all in.

There were quite a few surfers catching waves when they could, children playing in the sand and running away from the waves, people walking and bike riding on the Strand below, pelicans flying about and diving for fish, and occasionally I'd see schools of dolphins jumping out of the water here and there. I was stirred and felt serene as I soaked in my surroundings. And yet I also felt some sadness, which went deeper than saying goodbye to my son. I was able to just sit with the feeling for a while in the hopes of getting some clarity on what was taking place inside.

I realized that the last time I had been at that particular place had been the day 10 years ago that I signed my final divorce papers. I remember overlooking the ocean and seeing a deep purplish-blue that seemed to take on a life of its own. I remembered thinking that the ocean whispered a quiet reminder of the divine being which created me and everything in sight, and that the water could envelop and cleanse all of the "dirt" and pain off my soul. This time, I was again reminded of the whisper, but I felt joy at being in a very different place, where I am experiencing more authenticity, freedom, much more integrity in my life (where my outside matches my inside), and a clarity to appreciate more of the meaning behind it all. And yet, I also felt the sadness at looking at all of the struggles and challenges that it took to get here. I experienced the closing of a chapter, and the beginning of a new one. I was feeling grateful for where I am now, and hopeful that I will find purpose, something unique to contribute, and intimacy in my future. And I was grateful for the abundance and grace around and within me, that was available to me at no cost; I just had to be open to receive it. That gift is worth celebrating!

Left and Right Hemispheres - Story of a Brain Scientist's Stroke Experience

A friend of mine shared a link to this 18 minute video clip of brain scientist Jill Bolte Taylor, in which she describes her experience of a stroke that allowed her to study her own brain from the inside out. As I watched this video, I felt joy and hope, as my needs for meaning, understanding, inspiration, authenticity, and connection were met.

She describes her experience as her Left brain went dormant due to the stroke, and how her experience of reality changed as she lived solely in her Right brain.

She describes the Right brain as a "Parallel Processor", which builds a collage of pictures of the present moment, and how she experienced herself and everything around her as energy. (I find it helpful to call this side of the brain the symbolic "heart").

She describes the Left brain as a "Serial Processor" in which linear thought takes place, worrying about the past and the future. The Left brain picks out details and details and details about the world, then categorizes, organizes, and associates them with each other. The Left brain thinks through language, and thinks of itself as separate from others and the world. (I find it helpful to call this side of the brain the "mind". This is the place where judgment, criticism, evaluations, and "jackal thoughts" come from).

I was excited to hear her confirm that I have the ability to choose the hemisphere, and that we all have this freedom to choose the side of the brain that will dominate our experience of life and how we relate to each other. She challenges us to discern which hemisphere we choose to live by.

I encourage you to view the video and to comment on your experience or any insights that were stimulated by it.

Snow and Surf Adventure Celebration

The purpose of this post is to celebrate the beauty and freedom of California, the special connection I have with my son Alex, and the fun that we shared over the weekend.

We had been talking about this for a couple of years. It took lots of planning, lots of self-empathy, and careful execution. My son Alex and I snowboarded and surfed on the same day on Sunday, March 16, 2008. We were expecting snow and rain all weekend. We got both, but were pleasantly surprised…

Everything started with Alex’s Friday arrival at LAX for his spring break vacation with me. His flight arrived a little late ~ 10 PM, after which we were on our way to Big Bear Lakes. Alex slept on the way there, as he was still on central time; we got to our hotel a little before 12:30 AM.

The next morning, Alex noticed a snowboard rental shop across the street from our hotel, so we walked over there for his gear. We got to the mountain shortly after, and realized that the snow was packed and crusty. It can provide some fun, but there’s a high risk of wipe-out (when edges catch on bumps or the board slips out from underneath you). So, on that kind of snow, the safest thing is to go non-stop from start to finish – unless of course you wipe out.

Luckily, a snow storm moved in the area in the afternoon, and dumped enough snow to make it more fun. We woke up to 4 to 6 inches of fresh powder the next morning, along with a clear sunny sky and no wind. It was perfectly beautiful. We were both “stoked” (i.e. feeling joyous, energetic and fulfilled), and celebrated frequently with wild yells and high-fives as we flew past each other on our boards.

Alex was getting his adventurous-play need met by catching air off some jumps. Alex tells me that he was listening to “Cool The Engines” by Boston on his IPod during his first big jump. He was approaching the jump just as the “engines” were warming up at the beginning of the song, and blasted off at the same time that he exploded into the air.

I chose to join in on a few, but also contributed to the memories by taking pictures. It was really fun to follow Alex as he and I took six jumps in a row and nailed the landings on all of them. This is the first time that we’ve been able to jump together one right after another. I had some sad thoughts about my future when I won’t be quite able to keep up with him, but quick self-empathy allowed me to stay in the moments as they presented themselves.

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of fresh snow on a board; it’s almost like gliding on early-morning well-formed right-breaking glassy waves. The sound below the board is like a slowly modulating deep wind blowing through a pine forest, and the experience is almost like flying. When I visualize the feeling, it’s like being high above the clouds and playing on that hilly puffy terrain.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh” gets much closer to describing it; the plain-old-thoughts of the experience are boring in comparison.

So, it was a little painful that we chose to leave the mountain before noon to head to the beach. Alex and I openly talked about our feelings in leaving the mountain. We were sad to leave, but remembered that the bigger adventure had surfing in it. I found myself needing and giving myself empathy as I struggled with the snow chains, both to put them on and take them off (I was feeling anxious because I was wanting safety for us as my Mustang isn’t designed for snow, and feeling some frustration because I was wanting more ease in getting the chains on and off the tires).

On the way out, we stopped by a fast-food restaurant for a “quick” bite, except it wasn’t quick. At first, I found myself thinking of the “workers” as “incompetent, lazy and not-so-bright”. Then, I realized what I was doing to myself, looked inside feeling that I was uptight because I was wanting nourishment, and feeling agitated as I wanted to use my time more efficiently. The food tasted really good after it arrived.

We made it down the mountain as we listened to Pat Metheny’s “Letter From Home” and Yanni Live. As we made it to I-10 West, I put in “Moving Pictures” by Rush, and “Tom Sawyer” invited us to speed up into the fast lane…

We made it home, and managed to unload the car into the garage, and re-load it with the surfing gear in less than 20 minutes. We made it to Doheny State Beach in another 20.

It was sunny when we got to the beach. We put on our wet suits right outside the car, and started walking towards the water. On the way, we saw a police woman writing up a parking ticket. We asked her if she’d be willing to take our picture, which ended up being our first picture at the beach.

The waves were not very big; maybe 2 to 3 feet on the face, but most weren’t breaking until pretty close to shore. Our goal was to catch a few waves before the dark ominous clouds that were behind us would catch up to us (waves are pretty hard to catch with those conditions). Alex was telling me how disappointed he was feeling at the wave conditions, and that he didn’t think that we were going to be able to catch any waves. I told him: “I bet you $5 that I’ll catch a wave”. He looked at me and smiled as he thought of the $5 he had lost to me at Black Jack the night before. (Alex had dealt me an Ace and a Queen unannounced as I was trying to read a book. I had seized the moment to “teach” him something about gambling; sort of a “Kairos” moment. He mentioned that $5 he lost several times the following day).

Then, just a few seconds later, a bit of a swell appeared a couple hundred feet away – it looked good to me, so I encouraged Alex to start paddling and so did I. And, surprise! We both caught the wave, and I managed to take a picture of Alex as he was standing up on his board. I was ecstatic, elated and giddy -> feeling “stoked” as our adventure was complete.

Cowabunga!

We stayed out a little longer. We were drifting south towards some rocks near shore, so I suggested that we paddle in for a little rest. We were both pretty tired from all of the effort; we rested a bit and decided to head home just as the sky began to turn dark. By the time that we got to the car, droplets of water were falling on us.

Alex set up a towel covering for the backseat of my convertible as the rain started to come down. On the way home, we listened to the “Spirit of Radio”, “Free Will” and “Jacob’s Ladder” by Rush. The “freedom of music” matched our current mood. Our journey was complete. I am alive!

On the Hearts of Men

I recently was reminded of how "intellectual" my dialogs with men tend to be as I was reading blog entries in a site that I discovered recently. I was also reminded of how disconnected from my heart I was a few years back, and how this is a trend that I experience with other men as well. I can remember when I first participated in an introduction to NVC practice group in the Spring of 2002, how difficult the concepts were for me to grasp (i.e. how to give empathy and honesty) and how small a vocabulary of feelings and needs I had at the time. I really struggled to actively participate in the group; I was embarrassed and anxious because I was wanting more ease and clarity in how I communicated. I was so clueless at the time, that it wasn't until the Spring of 2007 that it all made sense (i.e. the light bulbs came "on"). My strategy for expanding my vocabulary of feelings was to put my feeling charts on my refrigerator and stare and study them a couple of times a day. The concept of needs came more naturally for me as I practiced NVC in groups.

~~~~So, why does the "Heart" matter? Why should men care about their hearts? ~~~~

From where I sit now, I feel awkward to have to motivate a desire for living from the heart, but I remember quite clearly how foreign the "heart stuff" was to me as I lived in a mind filled with analysis, judgment, comparison, evaluation. I received really good training at school, especially while getting my degrees in electrical engineering specializing in communication systems (ironic, isn't it?). At least from my own standpoint, I can safely say that I experience a lot of joy as I actively pursue strategies to meet my needs for authenticity, meaning, contribution and connection as I integrate this other part of me. This blog contains samples of what it looks like for me now. It's a lot more fun than just living in my head! I enjoy life more fully as I have learned to live connected to the heart, while my mind is still functioning (Using the mind never really goes away, but I am now using both hemispheres, not just one).

A few externally-sourced motivators:

* St. Iraneus, one of the main contributors to selecting which books of the Holy Bible were "inspired" and which were not once said, "The glory of God is man fully alive."

* "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." (Proverbs 4:23)

* "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." (Matthew 5:9)

* One of the books which has brought me great joy and inspiration, as it met my needs for authenticity, meaning and learning about the heart is "The Journey of Desire - Searching for the Life We've Only Dreamed Of" by John Eldredge. It is filled with inspirational quotes motivating a life lived from the desires of the heart. It is written from the perspective of a Christ follower, but I think would translate well to other NVC practicing giraffes. (Desire is similar to a need in the NVC world, though desire seems to go deeper into longing).

* I ran into a very interesting blog posting by Dan Tochinni titled "God as Conversation", partly based on a translation of John 1 which uses Erasmus' concept of the Greek "Logos" as "conversation". I find some truth and meaning in the experience that the "heart of Christ" comes alive and present when two or more people are engaged in a heartfelt dialog in which they are connecting deeply; this is what I call it when it happens to me. The translation ends with "To be invited to share in a Conversation about the nature of life, was for them, a glorious opportunity not to be missed."

~~~~ Hypothesis: Men have a difficult time connecting to their hearts, and engaging in conversation from this place ~~~~

Conversely, that women generally have an easier time connecting from the heart than men.

To support this point, I offer a few observations. In this blog, which is about communicating through the heart and mind, around 10% of the comments come from men, 90% from women. At an NVC intensive training I attended last December, only 30% were men to 70% of women.

John Eldredge mentions in his book "Wild At Heart" how the hearts of men have been under attack for many thousands of years. The theologian Walter Wink in his book "The Powers That Be" talks about our culture of domination, which contributes to people living disconnected from their hearts, and become easier to manipulate. Marshall Rosenberg talks frequently how violence is more likely from people disconnected from their feelings and needs, and who are educated to create static "enemy images" of people who are somehow different from themselves (i.e. people disconnected from their own hearts and the hearts of others).

Not caring for now about the real source of the issue for men, can we at least agree that there is something for men to consider here? Would any men care to comment on their experiences in matters of the heart? (still ok for women to comment). Or is this issue about the same for women? Is this generalization helpful or not?

Another Evening of Connecting - Wells of Joy and Sorrow

A few friends got together again on Friday night with the purpose of connecting. Some of us started off by making a few requests for the evening, as to what we would like to have happen (i.e. what strategies we'd like to employ to meet some of our needs). So, we danced around the living room, rotating in a circle in the spirit of the Jewish tradition as we listened to children's music. (This dancing bit spontaneously started last time that we met, and some of us wanted it to continue -- so we did). Our youngest participant (only 2 years old) danced in place with a couple of shakers in hand. The rest of us picked up tambourines, drums, triangles and other percussion like instruments, and shook-rattled-drummed as we danced, each one of us behind one another.

After a couple of songs, with our hearts pounding, we sat down scattered around floor pillows and couches for some connecting time. For us, that means having everyone in the group share about how their week unfolded while the rest of us offer empathy (i.e. listening for their feelings and needs) and occasionally honesty (i.e. expressing what we are feeling and what needs are being met by what we heard the other person say). We expressed a desire to have everyone share before 10 PM (when some of us start getting sleepy), and asked people to limit their sharing to 5-10 minutes? We haven't quite figured out how to put limits on sharing, but we were able to get to everyone this time.

Before the sharing began, one of our music enthusiasts played a couple of classical pieces and asked us to draw and/or express what came up for us. I immediately interpreted the music as sad (I experienced sadness), and I drew a cloud passing over a valley with tears falling from it into a vast and deep well, which looked more like a lake (see picture). To the right of the well were the "Green Rolling Hills" from my prior poem.

After the musical part, we went around the room and everyone chose what they wanted to talk about (i.e. the art, their week). The sharing of one particular person resonated with me as she spoke of her pain and how in her experience it had given her a capacity for joy that she wouldn't have otherwise. I was touched by what she shared as it met my needs for authenticity, connection, and shared experience. -- particularly, since my drawing and the start of my poem coincided so powerfully with what I was hearing. And then she read a poem by Kahlil Gibran's "The Prophet" called "On Joy and Sorrow". Her sharing and poem coincided in spirit with the drawing and poem that I had started earlier. The start of my poem -- the words that I wrote under my picture that evening are the following:

"Sweet hopeful sadness which feeds the well
which runs deep inside
energized sadness gives me life
as I feel the pain inside me"

"Remembering the times which are no more
I am glad that I am here, and yet I am drawn to what was"

This is all that I wrote that evening; and like last time, I woke up the next morning and finished the poem and sent it out to my friends. I am willing to send a copy by request, provided that you agree to keep it to yourself.

Has this moved anything in you?