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As a young adult living in Western Massachusetts, I had a handful of friends who attended Hampshire College. Hampshire is well known for being highly unconventional. There are no majors, no departments, and no grades. So much of the program is up to the student, including a final yearlong project. I could see why it was appealing, especially to people who didn’t seem to fit into typical academic institutions.
When I first heard these friends talk of the wonderfully freeform nature of their college experience, I was envious. In later years, as they found it increasingly challenging to keep themselves on course, I remember saying, “That kind of program wouldn’t work for me.” I realized, with no shame at all, that I needed way (way) more hand-holding. Only one of my Hampshire friends graduated. I guess they needed more hand-holding too.
There are a number of reasons we avoid getting help or taking direction:
- We’re too proud to admit we need help.
- We’re afraid of opening up, being vulnerable, or appearing weak.
- We think nobody is capable of helping us.
- We don’t want to be controlled or guided in a way we don’t like.
- We don’t want to be told what to do.
- We don’t want to be a burden.
- We don’t want to share the credit.
- We feel it’s less of an accomplishment if we get help.
- We believe we need to do things all by ourselves.
This last one is a common inherited belief, though nearly every impressive historical figure had a team of supporters. Yes, there’s a grain of truth to it: each of us is responsible for ourselves, our choices and actions. Each of us is responsible for how we show up in the world. Nobody can do the internal work for us. But it’s perfectly okay to get tons of help along the way. It doesn’t diminish the outcome. In fact, we connect and improve through the process when we let others in. This is true even when it comes to healing and spirituality. It’s time to let go of the “Lone Ranger complex.”
Guidance and mutual support are an important part of why our program, Sacred Expansion, has been so successful. We created Sacred Expansion as a prerequisite for our life coaching trainees, as we feel it’s important to “clean house” before guiding others. It was designed to help people get to know themselves more deeply, release old unhealthy patterns, and open to a state of greater intuition and trust – all within a group of others on the same journey.
It turned out to be so monumental for our early participants that we decided to make Sacred Expansion available as a stand-alone course. Enrollment is happening NOW! You’ll be lovingly led by my wife, Briana, through an exploration of yourself through the metaphors of the seasons. And you’ll come out of it with greater clarity and self-awareness, less baggage, a deeper connection to Spirit, and the tools to continue the process on your own. I encourage you to do it!
Also, I recommend you look back at that list of reasons we avoid getting help and see if there are any that ring a bell for you. If so, consider the following questions. Is this belief true? (E.g., Is it true that nobody could help me? Is it true that if I asked for help, it would compromise me in some critical way? Is it true that it’s less of an accomplishment if I get help?) And then meditate on what life might be like if you felt completely at ease and unembarrassed about asking for help and graciously receiving it?
Be well,
Peter
P.S. Early Bird pricing for Sacred Expansion is currently in progress. Sign up today and save $200! On August 17th, the price goes up, so if you want to join us, don't miss this opportunity!
Click here to enroll today!
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In my early 20s I had a boss who would ask me every morning, “How goes the battle?” I had never heard that expression before, but recognized that he meant, “How’s it going?” At the time I was learning about neuro-linguistic programming and becoming attuned to people’s word choices, so it struck me as an interesting – and loaded – phrase. Then I began to notice how common it is for people to characterize life as a fight – an ongoing series of conflicts, something we need to slog through, with a risk of imminent danger and an us-versus-them mentality.
Even if we see ourselves as winning the battle, if we hold this perspective, there’s still a chance of getting ambushed, right up to the last minute. So, we must always have our guard up, sleep with one eye open, check our drink for poison, and so on. It causes chronic stress, and we’re never entirely free.
Meanwhile, there are people who see life in a more positive light – as a game, a gift, an opportunity to explore, connect, experience, and be of service. Are they naïve? Are they less successful? Are they blindsided by the unexpected? I don’t believe so. If anything, because their perspective isn’t innately stress-inducing, they have greater resources for adapting to whatever comes.
I encourage you to examine your relationship with the world. How would you sum up your story? What kind of words do you use, both to others and yourself, when you talk and think about your challenges and ambitions? How do you feel about others aiming for the same goals as you? What sorts of bodily feelings go along with this? For extra support in re-wiring yourself, check out our workbook, Freedom, and try doing it for a month.
If you do find that you’re harboring a “battle” mentality, I wonder if it’s possible for you to symbolically wave the white flag, saying to the world (and yourself), “I’m not at war with you.” I know the stakes feel very high sometimes, but what if. . . (1) you could clearly see that being in ongoing conflict is more detrimental than it is beneficial to you, and (2) you had an unwavering link to something you could trust, an assurance that you are fundamentally okay, no matter what.
We often speak of rousing our inner warrior and the term “warrior” comes up a lot in self-help books. The warrior archetype is deep in our collective consciousness. Everyone knows it. And there’s a good side to it. Often, we evoke the warrior archetype when we wish to inspire ourselves to be clear, sharp, and disciplined, to stand up for our values, to protect those in need, to be brave, to have integrity and honor. But the other side of being a warrior is, of course, that you’re at war.
How can we embody these virtues without the sense of perpetual conflict? We live according to archetypes all the time – father, mother, husband, wife, cop, healer, good guy, bad guy, peacekeeper, curmudgeon, artist – mostly without realizing it. The first step is to become aware of the archetypes we’re subconsciously abiding by. Just making it conscious starts the process of releasing us from an archetype’s limitations.
Second, we can begin to forge a picture of something better and freer than any single archetype – our own Highest Self. Who would you be if you were clear, lighthearted, determined, loving, creative, peaceful, spiritual, purposeful, artful, present, honest, forgiving, kind, and brave?
Contrary to what your mind might say, that’s not too many virtues for one person to possess. You’re already somewhere on the spectrum of embodying every one of them. Whatever you dub this most-evolved you – Highest Self, Noble Leader, Queen/King, Divine Being, etc. – know that this is something you can freely choose at any moment.
Spend some time visualizing and feeling into this Highest Self. Imagine that she/he is just waiting for permission to step into the driver’s seat. When your small mind takes over and your habits run you, the Highest Self is nudged into the backseat. It may take some conscious surrender to let go of your default program and allow the better You to be in charge.
Another visualization you might find useful is to see yourself in the center of a circle of many different versions of yourself – all the possible ways you could be. Look around and see if you can spot the one that is the clearest, highest expression of your virtuous essence. Make a choice, and step into that Self. Try doing this every morning for a week and see what changes.
Be well,
Peter
[post_title] => Be Better Than A Warrior
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After two years of studying plant and soil sciences, my favorite professor, Dr. Barker, offered me a job on the University of Massachusetts farm. Whereas my previous jobs had been things like bagging groceries and washing dishes, this was the first time I was getting paid to do something I was interested in, and under the supervision of someone I looked up to.
I was nervous when I showed up at Bowditch Hall on my first day. Dr. Barker, a white-haired man with a country drawl, introduced me to his assistant, Kathy. Then he handed me the keys to a faded old, blue truck and asked me, “Ever driven a three-on-the-tree?” I had never driven any kind of truck before, much less one with the gearshift on the steering column, but I learned quickly as I drove the three of us – with lots of jerking and stalling – out to the farm.
Standing at the edge of a freshly plowed field, Dr. Barker explained that we were going to use stakes and twine to mark out rows for planting seeds. Kathy and I got to work while he watched. The only trouble was, while I had stakes, a mallet, and a ball of twine, I didn’t have anything to cut the twine with. I thought maybe I had spaced out when someone explained where to find a knife or scissors. Or maybe the professor had told me to bring my own knife and I had forgotten. I was too uncomfortable to say anything.
Wondering if there was some way I could proceed with my task without a cutting tool, I pounded the first stake into the ground. I tied one end of the twine around it, walked the length of the field, pounded in another stake, wrapped the twine around that stake, pulled it taut, and then I just squatted there for a few moments. I considered trying to gnaw through it with my teeth, but dismissed the idea as totally unprofessional. Finally, at the risk of appearing unprepared, I called out to Kathy, who was a dozen paces away, “Do you have a knife?”
“Huh?” she turned around and squinted at me in the bright sun. “Oh.” She ambled over, fished around in her pocket, and passed me a pink disposable lighter.
I interpreted this unexpected response to mean, “I don’t have a knife, but I can see what you need there. You’re going to have to burn through the twine with this. At the ends of every row.” She gave me the lighter in such a matter-of-fact way that I thought it would be too weird to ask for a different explanation.
So, feeling like I didn’t have enough hands, I held the twine straight out from the stake, positioned the flame beneath it, and tried to shield it from the wind with my leg. It blew out a couple times, but I eventually managed to burn through it. Meanwhile Dr. Barker had wandered over to observe me and remarked, “That is the strangest way of doing that I have ever seen.”
“Um. I didn’t have a knife,” I said sheepishly.
“Well, I’ve got a knife you can use.”
“Me too,” offered Kathy.
And that’s how, on the first day of my first important job, I believed I must have convinced my boss that I was an absolute idiot. By the way, if you’re wondering why Kathy handed me that lighter, these were the days when smoking was still quite common. She was a smoker and must have thought I said, “Do you have a light?”
The whole thing turned out to be a good lesson for me. By avoiding an uncomfortable conversation, I ended up in even more discomfort.
I resolved to speak up and break through the tension of misunderstanding in the future. I can’t say I’ve always done this, because it takes bravery, and sometimes I chose to stay in my (dis-)comfort zone. But I can say that I’ve never regretted it. Usually there’s an immediate diffusion of tension, and even when there isn’t, at least the truth is out and there’s an opening for resolution. This is especially true when we bring an attitude of curiosity and aim to understand the other person.
Is there anywhere in your life where you’ve left something unsaid because of your resistance to the discomfort of speaking those words and the feelings that may follow? I want to challenge you to make a communication this week that takes you a bit outside your comfort zone. Even if you have to say, “I’m really nervous about saying this” or you have to hold a friend’s hand while doing it, it’s worth it.
Be well,
Peter
[post_title] => Uncomfortable Conversations: Diffuse the Discomfort by Speaking Up
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As a young adult living in Western Massachusetts, I had a handful of friends who attended Hampshire College. Hampshire is well known for being highly unconventional. There are no majors, no departments, and no grades. So much of the program is up to the student, including a final yearlong project. I could see why it was appealing, especially to people who didn’t seem to fit into typical academic institutions.
When I first heard these friends talk of the wonderfully freeform nature of their college experience, I was envious. In later years, as they found it increasingly challenging to keep themselves on course, I remember saying, “That kind of program wouldn’t work for me.” I realized, with no shame at all, that I needed way (way) more hand-holding. Only one of my Hampshire friends graduated. I guess they needed more hand-holding too.
There are a number of reasons we avoid getting help or taking direction:
- We’re too proud to admit we need help.
- We’re afraid of opening up, being vulnerable, or appearing weak.
- We think nobody is capable of helping us.
- We don’t want to be controlled or guided in a way we don’t like.
- We don’t want to be told what to do.
- We don’t want to be a burden.
- We don’t want to share the credit.
- We feel it’s less of an accomplishment if we get help.
- We believe we need to do things all by ourselves.
This last one is a common inherited belief, though nearly every impressive historical figure had a team of supporters. Yes, there’s a grain of truth to it: each of us is responsible for ourselves, our choices and actions. Each of us is responsible for how we show up in the world. Nobody can do the internal work for us. But it’s perfectly okay to get tons of help along the way. It doesn’t diminish the outcome. In fact, we connect and improve through the process when we let others in. This is true even when it comes to healing and spirituality. It’s time to let go of the “Lone Ranger complex.”
Guidance and mutual support are an important part of why our program, Sacred Expansion, has been so successful. We created Sacred Expansion as a prerequisite for our life coaching trainees, as we feel it’s important to “clean house” before guiding others. It was designed to help people get to know themselves more deeply, release old unhealthy patterns, and open to a state of greater intuition and trust – all within a group of others on the same journey.
It turned out to be so monumental for our early participants that we decided to make Sacred Expansion available as a stand-alone course. Enrollment is happening NOW! You’ll be lovingly led by my wife, Briana, through an exploration of yourself through the metaphors of the seasons. And you’ll come out of it with greater clarity and self-awareness, less baggage, a deeper connection to Spirit, and the tools to continue the process on your own. I encourage you to do it!
Also, I recommend you look back at that list of reasons we avoid getting help and see if there are any that ring a bell for you. If so, consider the following questions. Is this belief true? (E.g., Is it true that nobody could help me? Is it true that if I asked for help, it would compromise me in some critical way? Is it true that it’s less of an accomplishment if I get help?) And then meditate on what life might be like if you felt completely at ease and unembarrassed about asking for help and graciously receiving it?
Be well,
Peter
P.S. Early Bird pricing for Sacred Expansion is currently in progress. Sign up today and save $200! On August 17th, the price goes up, so if you want to join us, don't miss this opportunity!
Click here to enroll today!
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