Studio art class. Smith College. 1998.
The light pours in from a wall of windows, concentrates in this room. The floors dance with ink-splotches and paint stains. It smells of turpentine, oils, wood frames and sweat. It feels a bit like a greenhouse in here. Only artists are growing instead of plants.
Our easels form a loose arc around the still life of the day.
At one point during the session, our professor asks us to put down our palates and our brushes, and stand up.
He invites us to take a stroll around the classroom, and study each others’ works in progress.
He wanted us to observe how our classmates had each chosen to use brush and pigment, the space of the canvas, tone and light and shape and shadow to represent that particular arrangement of objects on the table before us.
This moment has always stuck with me.
I loved this exercise of walking slowly around the room, taking in the beautiful range of markings others had laid down on their canvases, in response to the same view, the same essential information, the same objects on the same table.
I love the invitation to do things in new ways, to step our of our own way a little more often.
The costume we wear becomes us, and all too often turns into a cliché. Who wants to be a caricature of themselves? If we want a different experience of our lives, we can shift from the fixed mindset to one of growth (Thank you, Carol Dweck). We can try doing things in new ways.
Ultimately, it’s about seeing ourselves on a path of evolution. And letting go of the idea that that path is linear. Nature gives us all the perspective we need on this one. Stagnation doesn’t support life. Cycles, transformation, and a constant exchange of information between life forms is the name of the game.
I learned recently from an interview with Eddy Robinson that the traditional greeting of the Ojibwe People is the word boozhoo. He explained that one of the translations of this term is ~ are you ready for this? “I am going to learn from you, and you can learn from me. I’m going to respect you, and you can respect me.” This resonates with the sentiment of many traditional greetings around the world, which acknowledge the divinity, the aliveness, the inherent value in everyone whose path we cross.
Learning this greeting immediately evoked that experience in studio art class, this permission to adopt another style, to try on a different hat for a few minutes now and then. To invite something new into our repertoire.
To be open to seeing what else is possible. Essentially, to challenge the notion that your identity is fixed.
Through willingness to try another’s approach, I have fundamentally transformed who I am. I have evolved my capacities. I can show up for myself and others in new ways. And, I assure you, the learning continues.
I used to be painfully averse to conflict. I pretty much shut down emotionally every time the potential for conflict arose. I had a very wise friend who actually observed this pattern, reading my body’s cues in real time. He called me out on it. Don’t shut down now. His voice cut directly through the haze of my automatic retreat. Stay with it. Stay here.
I slowly started learning the power of being present with discomfort.
And I started receiving the gifts of staying with reality more and more, being willing to have the uncomfortable conversations when they were called for. I discovered the relief, opportunity, and expanded potential that was inevitably waiting on the other side.
I had never felt particularly strong or brave, but this new approach was fortifying. Over time, I realized that the courage that my friend seemed to exude from every pore of his being was available to me as well.
I gave myself permission to borrow his fearlessness when it was needed for me to stay balanced and strong and present and true to myself in the face of the situations that challenged me the most.
Over time, that courage became a part of me. I felt more and more in touch with it. I borrowed my friend’s for a spell ~ he had plenty to spare. And eventually, I no longer needed to ascribe that quality to someone else. I integrated it, learned to express it in my own way. Eventually I even found myself naturally able to share it with others who needed to borrow a bit themselves.
The truth is, we are wired for this. We are designed to learn from one another. From the cellular level on up. The electromagnetic fields of our hearts are in fact constantly exchanging information. We perceive ~ and influence ~ each other through the very fabric of our being.
This is one of the reasons that I use the principles of Dynamic Groups in the courses I teach. Having meaningful space to connect while we walk the sometimes tender path of evolving our habits and our identities goes a long way. It does wonders for progress and accountability. Aligned through shared vision and values, we have the safety to explore and learn from our differences, and uncover unexpected connections. In this setting, we can create something far greater than the sum of our parts.
I know first-hand how sticky that trap of “I’ll just do it on my own” can be. I spent many years insisting on struggling through everything by myself. Getting so stuck in my habitual ways. Considering it more virtuous to do it all single-handedly. To “do it all,” period. This never ends well, my friends. Resentment creeps in. Patience wears thin. We feel unsupported while isolating ourselves from the support that’s all around us. We reach a breaking point. It’s a hole we dig for ourselves.
Einstein famously said: “The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
The idea that, once we’ve reached our adult height, we stop growing and learning is one that really rubs me the wrong way. “When I have no more to learn, I’ll be dead,” a former boss used to pronounce, gruffly. But the statement always brought a smile to my face. I couldn’t agree more.
School may lend itself more easily, perhaps, to an attitude of willingness to learn. But as far as I’m concerned, I’m forever a student in the school of life. No walls on this classroom. Tests every day. New material never in short supply. I’m ready to learn every day. From nature. From my past. From the people I talk to. From my own patterns.
This is a pretty central theme in the course I run. Together, we learn, practice and integrate the daily habits that restore our biorhythms, our vitality and our health. We expand our capacity for healing and new, positive growth. An essential piece of this process is that each time we meet, we also learn from one other. We honor the value in one another’s experience. The value in sharing our own.
In some ways, the ability to make changes all comes down to a willingness to see yourself as someone who can learn, and try new things.
And if we can all start there, I think we’re in really great shape.
Willingness is such a marvelous quality. To see things in a different light. To come at situations with curiosity. To practice compassion with oneself and to put aside the heavy voice of self-criticism, judgement and guilt. Willingness to take actions, deceptively small ones, and to return to them, one day after the next.
And willingness to take ourselves less seriously and try on different costumes, for goodness sakes. To notice when the one we’ve been wearing is becoming a bit ill-fitting, outdated perhaps. To realize how much we actually can choose in our thinking and our perspectives and our behavior, in any given moment.
As far as I’m concerned, the tiniest little shred of willingness is the secret ingredient to untold potential and transformation.
Here’s my approach: Become less and less tolerant of the perspective that our issues or challenges are character flaws, and become more and more willing to see them as opportunities for growth, learning and transformation. Add compassion, and curiosity. Connect with others. Listen carefully. Listen more. Give and receive support.
We also have to be willing to not judge ourselves for having lots to learn. Why is there anything wrong with this? Can we just let that notion go please?
Where do you need to learn something new? What valuable set of skills is missing from your repertoire? Where do you want to grow and transform? Whose approach do you admire? Who seems to embody the characteristics you want to develop?
Take a walk around the proverbial art studio. Where do you need a fresh way of looking at things? Whose style could be useful to adopt for a while?
I’ve been thinking of this post for months now. But today in the car, my son mentioned that there was a phrase he’d just learned from a book, one that he really enjoyed, and had never heard of before. What’s that, I asked? “Taking a leaf from someone else’s book,” he replied. It took me a minute for this to sink in.
But then, of course, I lit up with delight. Such a wonderful concept!!! We agreed. And of course, after that, I couldn’t deny the invitation to get this written straightaway.
What leaf will you take from someone else’s book today? What kind of world can we create by greeting one another with this profound invitation: “Boozhoo”?
Here’s to the spirit of learning, from all of our encounters.
***
Ready to make a change? To replace some of the judgement and criticism with compassion and curiosity? Willing to take action, in small ways, and share in the process of learning with others on the path of growth and healing?
Join my habit course to embrace the gifts of willingness and learning.
Learn, practice, and become the version of yourself that is not limited by past stories, outdated beliefs, or a worn-out costume. Learn to see through new eyes. And evolve your habits to fit the person you are becoming.
We start a new round on May 13th! Hop on a call with me today to see if this course is right for you!
