Some days when I sit down to write, I know my topic. I have an idea about how to begin and the essence of what I want to say. Yet other days, I know there is something stirring inside me that wants to be expressed, but I don’t know what it is. So, I write to understand myself better. This is one of those days. I’m writing to better understand the intense feelings and emotions rumbling in my belly.
In preparation, I settle into the cozy sofa in front of the fire and become aware of splashes of gentle rain on the deck outside the sliding glass door. Within a few minutes, my breath is getting slower, deeper, quieter. At the same time, the feelings and emotions deep inside are already perking up. It’s like they sense I will listen, and they have an agenda. The rumbling gradually gets more insistent. Soon it sounds like the soft but steady idle of an engine. The more intently I listen, the louder it gets, as if the engine is revving up. Something is going to happen.
A little smile comes on my face as I write those words. Or maybe it’s the engine that’s smiling. As if it’s saying, “Oh good, we’re getting his attention.” There’s a slight smugness in the tone and feeling of those words, which almost makes me chuckle. The muscles in my face start to soften, my jaw loosens a bit, and I notice a sense of relief.
More than I bargained for…
Since I stopped teaching and traveling so much, I have taken on several volunteer leadership positions in local community boards and organizations. Through these positions, I’m meeting new people and building new friendships. I’m also learning a lot—sometimes more than I bargained for! That said, I’m glad to be getting involved—mostly.
The engine hum in my belly is getting quieter again. My insides are getting more relaxed as I give words to feelings that I haven’t spoken out loud or put on paper until now—acknowledgements of how I feel about this volunteer work. Together with the people in these various community boards and organizations, we’ve accomplished a lot. Yet in one organization in particular, there have been challenges. We are a diverse group of people—our wants, opinions, communication skills and styles, and expectations vary greatly. I’ve witnessed the full spectrum of human emotions, from joy, connection, laughter, and even occasional magic, to frustration, loss, grief, and anger. If I’m honest, I’ve experienced all those emotions and more myself, and there have been some awkward and unsettling moments.
Ok, if I’m fully honest, there was a moment last week that was more than unsettling. To put it nicely, I lost my composure. To put it frankly, a volcano of anger erupted within me, catching me off guard. I wasn’t prepared for that.
The engine in my belly has now revved up into a full roar. It’s like my insides are screaming, “YES! We’ve got his full attention now!”
Ok, still not completely honest. I wasn’t totally caught off guard. The fact is that I could feel the anger coming to a boil down deep inside before I “lost my composure.” But even as I felt it, I really did think I was in control. I could manage it. Well, I wasn’t, and I couldn’t. And that’s pretty rare for me. Which made the situation even more unsettling.
In hindsight, that volcano inside me needed to erupt, both for me and for the unfolding situation. And I did manage to keep the eruption contained until a safe and somewhat more appropriate moment to unleash the anger. And then, something broke open in me and in the situation that shifted the energy. It was awkward and intense, yet it did move the situation forward.
Surprisingly, as I write those words—as I fully acknowledge what happened—the engine has gotten quieter again. My insides are getting more spacious; the smug tone I sensed before is getting gentler and more compassionate; my breath is calmer. And with this inner shift in energy and awareness, I have stopped writing and am quietly gazing into the fire.
Looking through the moment
Soon, my thoughts drift to the poet philosopher David Whyte and a “Three Sundays” series of talks I listened to on Zoom more than a year ago. I don’t remember the title of the series, yet one teaching stayed with me. He talked about how we tend to look at what is happening when, in fact, we need to look through it—to sense what is happening through the situation.
At the time, his words registered in my intellect and they felt deeply aligned with Transformational Presence. Yet as I gaze into the fire, I realize his words have been playing inside me more than I was aware. In fact, I realize that this idea of looking through what is happening was floating just under the surface in my last couple of articles here on Substack.
My insides are humming louder again, yet not in the same way as before. Now there’s a gentle excitement bubbling up through my being, as if my insides are whispering, “I think he’s getting it!”
One of my earliest spiritual teachers used to say, “Nothing happens to you; everything happens through you and affects at least six other people.” In his own way, David Whyte is kind of saying the same thing. When we look at what is happening, we tend to see and feel only what is obvious and apparent on the outside, at least from our own perspective. And so, we react to what we see and feel, too often without deeper consideration or awareness.
Yet underneath the surface, there are multiple layers of thoughts, feelings, memories, choices, decisions, anticipations, actions, events, and circumstances playing out all at the same time. There is quite likely more happening through the event than we might perceive at first glance. What is happening has a past and a future. And if we delve even deeper, we find that there is both a close-up past (minutes, hours, or days) and a longer-distance past (weeks, months, maybe even years). At the same time, there is an immediate future at play and a future farther out in time.
The more intense a situation is, the more likely it is that there are layers upon layers of things moving through its unfolding. It’s up to us to look through what is happening instead of only looking at it. Transformational Presence questions can help us with that:
In a bigger picture, what is this situation really about? What different aspects or events of the past are converging on this moment? There are probably several.
What is trying to get your attention? Again, it could be more than one thing.
What is trying to open or shift?
What is this situation asking you to pay attention to?
What is it asking you to learn?
I “lost my composure” when I witnessed a worker being insulted and demoralized when he was simply doing his job. And, in fact, doing his job well. Although technically, I was not the young man’s boss, he was a contracted worker for an organization in which I hold a leadership role. Therefore, I felt not only a moral obligation to stand up for the young man, but also an ethical responsibility. I spoke out against the verbal attack, and with the support of others, we were able to defuse the situation and support the young man.
Realizing the depth of my passion for integrity and respect
My incredible anger made me even more aware of the depth of my passion for treating people with dignity and respect, for creating spaces of safety and trust, and for honesty and integrity in our words and actions. So many feelings, emotions, and values were colliding inside of me. Anger and frustration that one person could speak so disrespectfully to another. Immediate compassion for the young man, and a bit later, compassion for the person who spoke to him so disrespectfully. I recognized that there was probably more to that person’s story than I was aware. Which allowed Love to flow, overtaking the anger and frustration. Fear and uncertainty had unleashed within me with such unbridled passion. I knew that dignity, respect, safety, trust, honest, and integrity were incredibly important to me, yet until that moment, I didn’t realize how deeply ingrained my passions are. (My heart is beating faster now and the engine in my belly is once again getting louder!)
I continue sitting with those questions for my own learning and growth. I saw in that moment how much work remains to be done for justice and dignity for all people, even in environments where I would have hoped for a more generous and respectful approach. I also learned something more about navigating tense situations in which emotions are high and sometimes justified. And I discovered another layer of passion and “activism” in myself that I didn’t know was there.
Having written this article, my insides are getting quieter again. The warmth of the fire helps me rest deeper into the stillness of the moment. The rain has stopped. Writing has indeed helped me understand more clearly all that was stirring inside.
Some days later…
Talking with others in the organization who were close to this situation, it seems that most of us have learned from it. Together, we are sensing different parts of the past and present that converged in that moment—multiple stories, fears, expectations, and attachments. Something is shifting for some of us because of it. Awareness is heightened.
As for myself, I’m more aware of the fire of integrity, dignity, and respect burning deep in the heart of my being. I have a feeling this experience will keep working on me in the days and weeks to come.
Alan. What a blessing you are. Your writing invites us to hold mirrors up to ourselves, and your raw honesty and vulnerability allow us to imagine that we could also have such good within us that, when challenged, can erupt and change the world for the better. Thank you for letting me see myself (the me I WANT to be) in you. Love.
What a gift you have Alan - for finding meaning in what some of us might have chalked off as “lost my s___ at an annoying idiot.” Thanks for the insights - guessing we can all relate!