Personal Growth Archives - Page 29 of 33

In Identity, Personal Growth, Relationships, Speaking

Ground Rules

Julianne HarveyDecember 15, 2015December 7, 2015Leave a comment

I did my first literary salons in grade eleven and twelve English classes a few weeks ago. I approached it as an experiment, hoping that seventeen and eighteen-year-old students would be interested in the art of open-ended conversation on meaningful topics such as loss, hope, pain, regret and letting go.

I began by laying out three key ground rules for the salon:

Only say what you are comfortable sharing
What is said here remains confidential
This is not a debate

I spent the most time elaborating on number 3. I said, “You are not trying to prove a point, or change someone’s mind, or be right. The salon is not about ideas. It’s about experience; we are trying to connect with each other by finding those ‘me too’ moments of identification.”

What happened in both classes was astonishing. After a brief warm-up round of questions drawn from a bright blue bag, the small groups of six teens each moved on to deeper subjects. Everyone participated by sharing and listening. The very air in the classroom warmed up as we all focused on each person’s story. The braver someone got with their individual answer, the more intense the connection became from person to person in that group.

I floated around, as did the teacher, and we both shared from our lives where appropriate. I was amazed by how different the experience was from regular conversation because of the ground rules, particularly the reminder that we were all there to listen and share, not to convince anyone of anything.

I’m still mulling over the power of this experience, because an idea is germinating somewhere in my soul about how healing and important this type of authentic connection is with one another. Ground rules for the process of willingly engaging with another person’s experience, with no judgement or criticism, seems to be a key piece of this interaction puzzle. But how do I take this concept from the relative safety of a high school English class and bring it to the rest of the world?

I’m still working on that. I hope an answer begins to materialize to this worthwhile question. I know that something significant shifted and changed in me as we were talking. When a student inevitably said something I disagreed with, I took a deep breath and steered the group conversation back to the specific question at hand because the ground rules said I couldn’t debate an idea or philosophy.

Instead, I tried to connect with the person’s unique experience, and search for places to identify with him or her on a human level. This strategy increased the level of vulnerability and connection we all felt, instead of adding more angry voices into a discussion on who was right and who was wrong. Every one of us gets plenty of that already on the Internet.

This experience was gentler, softer, more real and insightful. I want endlessly more of that, and it’s up to me to grow it in my own soul and then give it away when it blooms.

At the end of the salon, students said that they saw each other in a new way as a result of the group conversations. They realized that no person is any one thing. We are more alike than we are different. We all hurt, worry, hope, dream and fear.

When we agree to hold another person’s dignity in a safe relationship space, we find freedom to be honest, open and genuine. Observing the ground rules changes us, allowing for compassion to grow, and this in turn has the power to change the whole world.

In Personal Growth, Speaking

Don’t Wait

Julianne HarveyDecember 8, 2015December 7, 2015Leave a comment

I ran a literary salon in a grade eleven English class, and one seventeen-year-old student said, “I’m just waiting for my life to start.” This struck me as a sad statement, so I asked him, “Aren’t you alive now?”

He responded with a list of the many ways his life was going to improve when he got out of school and into the real world. He would get a good job, be free to make his own choices, live wherever he wanted, and answer to no one. I tried to tell him that the problems only get bigger when you get older.

It’s dangerous to long for your life to start, because most of that is only conjecture. It’s like throwing darts while blindfolded, hoping to hit your target. How will you know when you’ve arrived at this magical place where now your life is finally what you want it to be?

I think it bothered me because I saw myself in this young, discontented teen. Most of the things that irritate us hit uncomfortably close to our own experience. I don’t think I convinced him to stop living in the future and start embracing the messy, beautiful imperfection of his current grade eleven experience, but that wasn’t the point. Instead, I convinced myself.

I spent many years waiting for that elusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I told myself, “My life will be amazing when I get married, have kids, sell a screenplay, buy a house, go on a book tour, win an Oscar…(fill in the blank).” Some of these things have happened and some have not, but waiting to be happy and fulfilled is a losing game.

It’s all here, right now, each and every day. The responsibility, the fun, the pain, the bottomless joy, the wonder, the crouching fear, the uncertainty. All of it belongs to each of us, muddling our way through this strange, beautiful and terrible experience called life. We can’t wait. We must be brave enough to live it now, today, this very hour.

Happiness and hurt exist together, side by side. We don’t get creativity without fear. We only succeed when we are willing to fail. It’s all mixed up together, in an unpredictable and sloppy brew. If we are alive, we shouldn’t wait for our life to start. It’s been going since the moment you drew your first breath.

Own it, for exactly what it is. If it sucks, improve it. If you hate it, make changes. Life is not happening someplace else, in some future location. This is it.

Don’t blame your parents or circumstances or politics. If you want something, pursue it with your whole heart. Don’t quit until you get it, but by all means, enjoy each and every step on the path that takes you there. We only have so much time to be alive. We all have lessons to learn. Everything counts.

Don’t wait. Today is the day to live your best life.

In Personal Growth, Relationships, Spiritual Life

The Ashes of Peace

Julianne HarveyDecember 1, 2015November 30, 2015Leave a comment

I’d love for this world to make sense. For people to take responsibility when they mess up. To own it by naming it out loud and saying, “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better in the future.”

So many things are out of our direct control. We can’t make anyone do anything. Not one of us can stop people’s rage and fear on the Internet right now over the refugee crisis. I long for kindness and weep at the vitriol I read and see. It’s agonizing to live in such a knee-jerk world; so hostile, fearful and rejecting.

I know that real change only comes from the inside. You can’t legislate it, mandate it or manipulate your way to it. Transformation blooms in the heart, watered by pain and loss. It’s always an inside job. Looking to the Internet for solace and compassion is a dead-end game. We must go inside for these valuable commodities, growing them like a garden, and drawing those we know, trust and love near to share them.

Writing these things is calming for me. It’s isolating to be sensitive at this time and place, with the world such a cruel mess. We are all capable of wounding each other. I must take responsibility for the awful things I say and do, extending mercy to myself as much as to others.

I crave certainty, honesty and beauty. Those qualities are in short supply right now, but when they are scarce we must breathe them to life in ourselves. We can make space for love, forgiveness and generosity, even if others are calling publicly for the opposite.

It’s time to slow down. To inhale and exhale. To stare out the window and pet the cat. To indulge in a chocolate bar. To feel reassured that tomorrow the sun will rise and we will all get another chance to do a little bit better.

It won’t be dark forever. We can learn to let go of what is not ours to own. We can blow on the ashes of peace in our soul and try to ignite them back into flame. We can do only what we can do to lighten up the darkness and bring hope to those who feel hopeless.

In Identity, Personal Growth, Relationships

The Gift of Uncertainty

Julianne HarveyNovember 24, 2015November 16, 2015Leave a comment

Walking the thin line between uncertainty and planning is a killer. For those aggressive Type A personalities out there, like myself, you just want to KNOW, dammit, so you can confidently head in a specific direction.

Places of uncertainty stretch us, like Gumby (for those of you too young for this reference, Gumby was a green 80s figure pliable enough to bend into various poses). It’s uncomfortable. It’s awkward. It can really, really blow, because it asks us to live in the now; to give our undivided attention to this moment.

Uncertainty reminds us that we are not in control of everything. It invites us to trust: in timing, in goodness, in an invisible safety net that we hope is there even if we can’t prove it.

On the plus side, not knowing what the outcome will be sharpens our senses. It’s like going to the optometrist and marvelling at how crisp those letters can be with the right prescription. We suddenly notice what we’ve long taken for granted, because something has shifted in us and we know that nothing in this life stays the same forever. We change, and so do the people around us. Circumstances shift, children grow up, the snow comes to end the autumn.

Once again, this comes down to surrender. As the brilliant Cheryl Strayed writes, “Acceptance is a small, quiet room.” When we choose to give up our right to know what will happen, we turn our soul loose on this present moment and space, believing that we are enough for whatever challenges and triumphs are coming.

We can’t see them, and we must come to terms with that. We all have limits. Twenty-four hour days, three-hundred and sixty-five day years, one mortal body we cannot exchange or upgrade, an enormous world that we can only make our home in one minuscule part of.

But our spirit is limitless. It can soar, dream, expand, transform. We have external limits, but no internal ones – except for what we impose on ourselves. Every so often we discover a fresh perspective, renewed gratitude, a surge of optimism. We stretch. We feel pulled by what we cannot anticipate, manipulate, or control. But when we get through that, we are different.

The key is not to break faith with the process. To believe that something wonderful might be around the corner, slightly beyond what we can see, instead of fearing a dark and scary experience. Staying anchored to the now helps us believe in a better future, because we are fully alive. Equally surrendering our fierce grip on the past and the future offers us peace for today. And that equips us for whatever is coming.

In Personal Growth, Relationships, Spiritual Life

Peace and Safety

Julianne HarveyNovember 17, 2015November 16, 2015Leave a comment

Like the rest of the world, I was shocked and outraged by the terrorist attacks in Paris on November 13th. I felt lost, sad, fearful; helpless against the type of violence so unexpected and impossible to predict or control.

For my own sanity, I had to shut off the TV coverage and try to avoid Twitter and Facebook. I can’t process grief when I’m distracted by endless arguments over who’s to blame. My heart squeezes in fear when I read speculation about this being the start of World War III. I feel anguish when people say that more violence is the answer to this crisis.

I understand this response. It offers a tiny bit of control to imagine taking up a weapon and hunting down those who are trying to kill you. But hasn’t history proven that escalating bloodshed to bring about peace rarely succeeds?

Terrorism is complicated and I sure as hell don’t have the answers. I just bawled most of the way through the Remembrance Day ceremony at my daughter’s school because talking about soldiers sacrificing their lives so I could live in freedom pierces something sharp in my soul. Where would we be without the courage and commitment of those who fought through two world wars so I could exist in peace and safety?

I don’t know why I got to be born in Canada in the late twentieth century. I’ve known nothing but freedom and democracy. Many, many others have not been so fortunate. We all want the same thing, no matter where we live or the time period we are born into: safety for ourselves and for those we love.

Not one of us is guaranteed safety. Not from bombs, guns, poverty, illness, drunk drivers or random accidents that can wound or kill us. Terrorist acts threaten everyone, the whole world over, and make for a challenging enemy to identify and defeat.

I don’t have solutions to these global problems, but I believe I must first deal with the violence in my own heart before I can move beyond myself. Peace is not achieved through more violence. Something has to shift and change in every human heart for our world to look different. I feel despair that this may never happen, at least not in my lifetime, but as the recovery movement says, “Let it begin with me.”

Hope is a powerful force. So is solidarity. Standing with another who is in pain matters. So does saying “Me too” when fear and panic crouch at our door. We don’t have to let them in to live with us. We can choose to keep our hearts soft and warm instead of brittle and angry.

We can love each other. We can help by carrying one another when required. We can feel the sadness and make space for it in our soul. One day, we will find healing. We will get through the darkest days with those we love, and refuse to stop hoping for a better, safer, more peaceful future.