The Yin-Yang of Life

There’s nothing like a meltdown, especially a public one, to give pause for reflection. Prior to the veil of tears, I had told the closing circle of fellow participants at the 2012 Social Change Institute (SCI) this was the first safe space in a group I had experienced in more than ten years, since training in spiritual psychology.

What I mean in reference to `safe space,’ as I indicated in July 9th and July 21st blog posts, is to spend time among kindred souls who appreciate and support each others’ respective pursuits focused on creating a better world for the human family and planetary well-being. Such group understanding and compassion is rare to experience in everyday life for many of us, dedicated to the pursuits of social justice and environmental healing.

Meltdown and breakdown are two different phenomena. Fortunately my `full round’ descent some years ago, to come home to my soul, has been the glue to hold me together through further challenges, such as repeated job rejections that diminished self-confidence. Lunching with an SCI fellow participant, I even joked about feeling like a piece of Swiss cheese, given the many dents to my self-confidence that I have withstood in recent years. Yes, I feel wobbly; but, my spiritual groundedness is intact.

Many folks who have lost jobs, and/or find themselves under-employed, or who cannot even get their foot in the door to prove their worth in gainful employment, are often not so lucky in how they negotiate life’s disappointments and losses. Nothing can be more heartbreaking than feeling unwanted, not needed and not valued.

For individuals in transition or who feel as if they are standing at an abyss, I can be a guide, in facilitating personal and professional development that deepens and expands various levels of awareness so that individuals can reframe their circumstances and move forward. To do so I have a range of modalities, based upon academic study, professional practice and experiential learning, all grounded in approaches in transformative learning. These include cross-cultural healing, global education, media literacy, spiritual psychology and expressive arts modalities, both to understand our inner life as well as enhance interactions among fellow human beings.

The distinction between my second and third metamorphoses is that the second was a personally chosen life transition, while the impetus of the third descended from the economic realities of the surrounding world, an experience shared with thousands of other human beings these days. Unpleasant realities are no longer limited to the so-called `developing world.’ They also alter the terrain of available work in the developed world and environmental health issues now are more visible here too.

Each metamorphosis of my professional life has brought a new level of understanding about the human condition an the tenacity of the human spirit. Each transition has forced me to ask, once again: who am I, what is my purpose on earth, how do I confront whatever is obstructing my desires, what must I retain and what must I let go to pursue the journey that I have chosen? And, last but not least, is it my perceived purpose that needs to change? Alternatively, is it the ways in which I manifest my purpose and towards what new and different types of work not previously considered?

Many people seeking not just work but, moreover, a life purpose, need to ask the same questions. As for me, I prefer the latter choice. In other words, I retain my values and identity as a helper to serve humanity. However, I am willing to see the necessity to change how, and where, I offer my knowledge, experience and skills. Regardless, it is easier said than done.

Marketing, I confess, is my Achilles heel. In previous metamorphoses, I worked diligently, without fanfare, steadily employed. I did not seek the limelight, nor need my ego massaged. The joy came from the soulful intentionality of helping others.

Establishing boundaries, however, was one of the most important lessons for me to learn in the journey from the first professional metamorphosis to the second, in the continuing work of activism and advocacy for social justice and environmental awareness.

Through that journey, I let go several subpersonalities or `identifications,’ such as playing the `rescuer’ in trying to save the world and alleviate human suffering. In the process of `disidentification,’ one of the concepts and practices in psychosynthesis, I developed the fuller awareness that I am more than the medley of personae or roles that I had assumed. I acquired the wisdom to deal with my own woundedness, tapped into several layers of the unconscious, and learned to function more from my Higher Self.

Upon completing a doctorate, I had full clarity about the next phase of professional work. Projects included: producing a documentary life story about Roberto Assagioli; adapting my thesis into a trade book; doing workshops; and giving public lectures on why and how psychosynthesis (a spiritual psychology) is so pertinent today – used internationally in therapy, education, conflict resolution and more – in the project of our time, namely, the evolution of consciousness.

My game plan was to get semi-regular sessional teaching positions at universities, to pay the bills, and have blocks of time to do field research, direct, shoot and edit a film – maybe a couple of films, and write a few books – through the coming years. For my other ace card was based on many years of cross-cultural work and researching 500 years of cultural racism, the topic of my course taught one semester at an Ontario university.

But then the sky fell. I have yet to find co-producers who can appreciate the inspirational value of Assagioli’s life and contributions in today’s troubled world, despite several field research trips to Italy and the United States, gaining access to key interview subjects and insightful documents, writing proposals and pitching at various documentary festivals.

Worse, part-time university positions diminished. The person who had hired me at the one university later quit his position. I am considered too old for tenure university jobs. Meanwhile, since the economic downturn, universities in North American increasingly seem to give part-time teaching jobs to doctoral candidates rather than individuals with more years of field experience and the knowledge/wisdom that develops through time. Economic security dissolved with those lost job prospects.

However, I am tenacious. If I could package and sell the persistence and creative ingenuity with which I have sought out more different types of jobs in recent years than in a lifetime, I would be doing a jig in my country garden, instead of putting all of my energy into keeping the wolf from the farmhouse door.

What really frosts me though is when anyone tells me that I need to lie about my education and other credentials. I am supposed to shrink wrap my intelligence, diminish my accomplishments, and a lifetime of gathered knowledge and experience, into a tiny `no-name’ box in order to get any work at all.

Ever since finishing art college (with honours) fresh out of high school, I have been told that I am over-qualified. When hired as a female graphic artist, I faced regular humiliation from engineering and advertising employers, who discouraged initiatives from a mere woman artist. Metaphorically and literally, I was allowed only to draw within the lines prescribed – by them. I put such patriarchal mistreatment behind me.

That is why I chose to be self-employed through the next 30 years. Indeed, after getting the first of three university degrees where I could use my brain, I felt as if I had found the Holy Grail in embarking on a vocation of freelance writing. I sought to make a difference in the world, and within a society that suffers sorely from a resistance to employing creative, independent thinkers and practitioners.

Moreover, I made it my life purpose to facilitate other individuals’ respective journeys to self-esteem and social/political awareness, in helping them identify, and move through, whatever barriers, inner and outer, that blocked the road to their potential. That holds true today, more than ever.

For the world today – more than ever – needs brave, creatively intelligent independent thinkers and practitioners to collaborate, and challenge, whatever reduces our humanity, and whatever undermines and threatens the life support system of this planet.

Here I revisit my meltdown in the closing SCI circle. There I said that I ran away to someone else’s culture to find a different story about how to live on this planet. Here I add, my return home was not limited to the very important inner journey to come home to my soul – what I had characterized to fellow participants as the `descent to the goddess.’

`Coming home’ also meant refocusing my work, wiser and with a more compassionate heart, to heal a culture that I long ago had concluded was systemically dysfunctional.

Important to my second professional metamorphosis was the recognition that my work no longer was meant to focus on the soul woundedness of Indigenous people, to try endlessly to make amends for Western culture’s misguided, and unconscionable, deeds.

I felt the time had come to deal with my own culture’s soul woundedness, to which it systemically is blind. The continuing task is to find those people who genuinely are seeking a new story, regardless, and also who want to know the backstory to how Western culture arrived at this moment.

The hope resides, always, in each and every human being, across generations, who similarly recognizes the Western world’s broken covenant with Nature and Spirit, and who is willing to collaborate across cultures to mend it. Please read my previous blogs written on May 3rd about ancient environmental wisdom and May 14th about unearthing the feminine, for a few insights about why and how mending that covenant is possible.

So the meltdown in the sacred closing circle at SCI was a healing moment. Grief that had been welling up in me, that I had not permitted myself to feel in the wake of a number of unexpected losses – work prospects and certain lifelong friendships formerly cherished – spilled over.

I wept for what I had perceived as the wider world’s refusal of my boon, that is, service to humanity and wisdom that I have wanted to impart. Nevertheless, I never will give up on myself, nor my love and compassion to care about fellow human beings and to challenge the stupidity that threatens planetary life.

SCI was a pivotal moment for me. I took ownership of my grief, and expressed it, dramatically imploring Spirit to send me a sign about why I am here on this earth.

Grief is an honourable emotion, too often repressed in Western culture. Releasing it opens the chakras and calms the spirit, freeing the energy to go forth, once again, into the light.

To make meaning of our circumstances requires us, at interludes, to look back in order to understand how we got to the present, why we are here, and what we need to consider in walking into the future. That truth speaks both to human individuals and also to the global human condition through history.

In writing organically, I find myself producing a `backstory’ to my present circumstances. I recommend it as a useful exercise, particularly for folks who find themselves in transition. These days, who isn’t?

The reason is, in this historic moment of accelerated change at multiple levels, it is important to find and identify the threads of life that provide continuity. Even so, new colours and types of threads inevitably need to be added, while some older ones either get cut away or rewoven into new patterns of being.

When the lens of life’s journey can span a number of decades, the long view can be both revelatory and troubling. This wide lens gazes upon unsettling human truths. Foremost is the human resistance to change, as well as the perennial need for caring individuals to continue fighting on behalf of social and environmental justice, and human rights.

The lived experience of learning someone else’s culture can be a superb way to unveil the workings of one’s own culture – Euro-western in mainstream North America – and it is not a flattering picture. Prior to engaging so intensely with Indigenous people, I already had a jaundiced view about Western materialism, and the utter selfishness of industrial capitalism. Furthermore, I was not impressed by schooling where study of Native peoples was absent, as if contemporary Indigenous nations no longer existed.

The full yin-yang of life was presented to me poignantly throughout my years working full time as a freelance journalist, visiting among North American Native peoples coast-to-coast. My first metamorphosis professionally, in fact, was the radical change from boring, unsatisfying work as a graphic artist to walk into a world of constant learning that transformed me, forever, at several levels of awareness, from political to spiritual.

Newspapers and magazines published hundreds of my articles, in my role as one of the few non-Native journalists to be committed to the pursuit of cross-cultural understanding. Those stories relate Canadian cultural history. I still want to write books based on unpublished interviews and documents now out of print, if  and when I can receive the financial assistance to do so.

Life during those years as a journalist was an adventure, because I had a profound sense of purpose as a messenger. My professional life, moreover, continually evolved. For example, I became very active in media literacy, to challenge stereotypes and cultural racism. Also, I taught Native Studies for eight years at the senior School of Experiential Education (SEE), in Toronto. There I brought in Native guest speakers, organized field trips for students, and introduced them to books and films that foregrounded Native voices.

But, in the early 1990s, three factors brought that stage of my professional life to a close. First of all, stagnant freelance writing fees no longer could sustain even a subsistence income. I chose to do graduate studies, to open up other doors to earn a living. Secondly, repeated burnout from overwork also gave evidence I needed to change my way of life. Third, the issues of `cultural appropriation’ and `identity politics’ by the mid-90s, although originating in justifiable grievances, regrettably went overboard (in my opinion) in fueling reverse discrimination that obstructed cross-cultural healing.

In my heart, I am a storyteller. The above factors, however, pushed me into a new direction, along a road to recovering my health while expanding and deepening my bit of wisdom. I had come to recognize two important realities. Why I mention them here is because these insights could be helpful to other helping professionals and activists.

One reality is that passion, sacrifice, altruism, and commitment to relentlessly fight against what is wrong in the world makes a very limited difference, if and when it is done through activism based on the pillars of anger, judgment, righteousness and prejudice, all with a focus only on tearing down what exists. Negative energy attracts negative energy.

The second reality speaks to the individual activist or social change agent, albeit well-intentioned, who focuses on human suffering to the degree of shutting out entry of any light, joy, love, beauty, and everything that nurtures, into one’s life. If that door to your life force remains shut, your own focus on suffering will simply devour you.

In reference to the first reality I use the example of `racism,’ one of my own major areas of activity. I distanced myself from the forms of `anti-racism’ that were reactive, in other words, grounded in guilt trips that tend to alienate and be counter-productive. In contrast, my approach to challenge racism has been grounded in the proactive combination of media literacy and transformative learning.

Prejudice is learned, and manifests out of fear and limited awareness. In groups, people can engage in critical thinking and experiential exercises to awaken the unconscious seeds of discriminatory behaviours. Exploring historic sources of longstanding misrepresentations also can be a creative, productive process to expose and analyze formerly unknown origins. These processes, ultimately, transform consciousness to be more open-minded to different perspectives, at least to understand how and why they were formulated.

As for “tearing down what exists,” certainly whatever obstructs the evolution of the human family to experience more equitable, environmentally sustainable and joyful living needs to be changed. Doing so speaks – philosophically and bureaucratically – to political, economic, social and religious infrastructures. The essential transformation, however, begins in the beliefs and values within the human mind, deeply rooted in unconscious levels, when they are oppressive, invoking fear instead of love.

I say “tearing down” is not enough, to emphasize the other essential task for authentic and lasting change. The much more challenging work is to create new ways of being, thinking and doing, in order to build new infrastructures. New ways of interacting need to be based upon peace-making, collaboration across differences, and experientially learning why and how the whole web of life, human and nonhuman, is interconnected.

The second reality I mentioned above speaks to individuals – helping professionals, social change agents and activists. A fact that needs to be much more effectively addressed is the widespread phenomenon of burnout. I did extensive research on this phenomenon documented among helping professionals, while at the same time embarking on my own seven-year journey of healing and renewal.

Helpers, in other words, even while offering love and compassion, unconsciously can give it all away, and deplete their own life force to the degree of serious illness. Any server to humanity, from healers to activists, particularly needs to be vigilant about self-care in order to regenerate energy. Yet, in exploring the lives of accomplished spiritual teachers and healers, it appears that acquiring such wisdom often happens after the type of descent that I outlined in my previous blog.

What I describe above brought me to a second metamorphosis in my professional life, a shift to focus on healing rather than suffering. For I, similar to many people working in social justice, ceaselessly challenged what was wrong. Even though I did so proactively rather than reactively, the end result was the same. Inadvertently, I erased a personal life for many years in which I otherwise could have experienced joy, beauty and nurturing.

This metamorphosis was very different from the first. That had been an easy step, walking away from boredom and creative frustration into a profession of writing in which I felt that my life had purpose. The second metamorphosis was not a simple step, or even several steps towards a clearly seen horizon. The first metamorphosis was linear.

The second metamorphosis was holistic, taking me down into the bowels of my being. The initial steps took me to an abyss, and a journey through an inner landscape, sometimes in darkness and other times by candle light, tumbling down and climbing up again through rough terrain, with fleeting glimpses of light before the next tumble.

Through the journey, old emotional and relational patterns fell away. For a while, I even lost the meaning of my very existence, in a sort of transitional limbo. The impetus for that twilight zone partly came from inner transformation. Outer losses also happened, such as certain lifelong friends yet, most significantly, the passing of my mother.

Spiritual psychology, specifically, psychosynthesis, in which I trained and studied, was the path of illumination that guided me through the whole harrowing journey of loss and grief. Its concepts and processes, henceforth, would influence how I lived and why I worked.

The trajectory of my work now unfolded from a place much closer to wholeness rather than a place of woundedness. I felt much better equipped, psychologically and spiritually, to offer more effective service in the wider world – namely, the `boon’ from hard-won knowledge. As a life long learner, however, my own journey to fuller understanding continues to evolve.

For we never become immune to what happens around us. Indeed, life’s purpose is not grounded merely in work. The fundamental questions of existence include: Why are we here? What really matters? The ground of our being resides in human love and compassion, and how we treat each other.

The first priority in expressing new found joy, accomplishment and inner peace, was to extend it to my father during his final year. We always had been close. Being a witness to his stories, however, and receiving his trust at deeper levels as he bravely embarked on a quest to make meaning of life’s events, was a sacred gift.

Upon his passing once again the earth moved, and everything that had made sense shifted. While trying to move forward and do meaningful work, the outer world also had changed.

The digital world had inserted its fibrous threads into every aspect of human interaction. Then, the 2008 global economic downturn arrived with a thud, and its ripple effect continues to alter human society, cultures and nation states globally and, accompanied by climate change and increasing natural disasters, the planetary environment.

Another metamorphosis in professional life, once again, has become the imperative. Once again, it is not linear yet involves multiple levels of reality. This  time, moreover, my reality is interwoven with transitions happening in the lives of thousands of people internationally.

The changes upon us affect all generations. How can we be more supportive to each other? What is it that I can best offer in this moment, based upon the medicine bundle of skills, knowledge and experiences that I have gathered?

My next blog examines the journey from the second metamorphosis to the third, confronting my own resistance, what led to a meltdown and, since then, the recovery of my self confidence.

The discovery of our human potential requires the courage to take risks and travel into our unconscious, the places of darkness within us where – paraphrasing the late Irish philosopher John O’Donohue – treasures await us. Using the language of mythology, this human quest is referred to as either the `hero’s journey’ or the `descent to the goddess’. It is the same journey.

This journey takes us through inner landscapes initially unknown and unfamiliar to us. In order to access the treasures we assume we will find, we confront dragons. These dragons, however, are our own fears and other repressed emotions. We must slay them, magically. In other words, we must not try to avoid or destroy such emotions but, instead, make peace with and understand such feelings in order to transform and release them. We also need to develop the grace to receive the gifts of awareness that we had not anticipated.

This universal, timeless myth is not merely a fantasy story yet, instead, embodies what has been possible for human beings since the beginning of time or, at least, since humans developed the consciousness to make meaning of life’s formidable trials and manifest more fully who we can be.

This quest, to be authentic, is not pursued from the shallows of our ego or personality, for self-edification. Indeed, to go through all of the stages, authentically, who we might have thought we were gets totally shredded. We then are compelled to refigure who we are, how to connect our head and heart to our soul, and for what purpose. In other words, in doing what is called the `full round’ of the quest, what is the boon that we now can offer for the benefit of humanity?

Indeed, we are life long learners at more levels than most people recognize. This historic moment calls upon individuals, workplaces, organizations and governments not just to figure out new infrastructures and skills about how to function differently, as our political, economic and social structures go into descent. But, more profoundly, changing the outer world calls upon a deeper understanding and awakening of our inner world, namely, human consciousness and the need for transformation in our very perceptions about what is happening, economically and environmentally.

That recognition is what compelled me to attend the Social Change Institute (SCI) at Hollyhock, in British Columbia. Stated a bit differently than in my previous blog post, I wanted to be among fellow professionals who understand the importance of doing both the outer and inner work among fellow human beings in this time of radical change.

Change is happening around us, constantly and at an accelerated rate, locally and globally. This reality can look, for some people, as if it is beyond our control and render us powerless if we allow fear to prevail. For other people, they continue to function in the mode of `business as usual’, whether from indifference or in complete denial based, again, on unconscious, paralyzing fear that obstructs any vision to do things differently.

What I brought to SCI included many years of professional and volunteer work in social justice, accompanied by the experience of my own seven-year quest of healing and renewal as a formerly burned-out helping professional. Since the 2008 economic downturn, I have felt like a bride-in-waiting to bequeath my boon to the world, a world that systemically is in descent yet does not understand the soul, nor its multiple, interrelational levels.

But I did not realize at SCI that I personally was in another descent. For coming home to the soul, which is the gift of the `full round,’ does not spare us from making further descents at later interludes in life. Doing so, thank goodness, is not as fully shattering. Regardless, the life journey continues to present us with challenging material that calls upon further inner growth, namely, through further descents.

Again, what is so vital to understand is that our human responsibility foremost is to accept life’s challenges – losses, disappointments, perceived setbacks – as part of the overall experience of being alive. Such material calls us to focus on what are the lessons to learn, psychologically and spiritually, not just to be stronger yet, moreover, to become more compassionate.

All of the above is my way to characterize why particular serendipitous moments at SCI had significance different from the other types of organized experiences. Also, in writing about these moments, I hope that they illustrate material for reflection among readers, to awaken you to pay attention to the less visible reasons why personal unsettling events happen. View such events as transformative moments, rather than as negative experiences, and make meaning of them to grow closer to your soul.

Resilience is not a quality that I had identified in applying to be an SCI participant, yet it unexpectedly surfaced. Sitting in the audience at the first morning forum, my response to a specific process brought a blunt request to reframe my question – and I did so, a few minutes later. Not a big deal at the time, until afterwards. Tom, a child care worker, privately complimented me, saying that some folks would have folded up and remained silent. He was impressed by my bravery, in a new and strange setting, to bounce back and respond again. I was deeply touched by his compassionate observation about a human quality that, indeed, is a life skill and survival tool.

Tom’s compassion was mirrored among a number of SCI folks, and illustrated one of the key qualities welcomed in the collaborative style of leadership fostered by diverse types of SCI sessions. Another session, for example, offered the opportunity to pitch our own special projects and possibly find interested supporters and collaborators.

But, what happened next was the first clue of my condition of descent. Despite twenty years of public speaking – in workshops, classrooms and full auditoriums – I was almost overcome with stage fright. There I stood, in a lodge filled with the perfect audience, receptive to wonderful projects to heal and transform a troubled world, and I quivered like a trembling aspen, barely able to speak. Indeed, I wanted to disappear into one of the cracks in the beautiful cedar wood wall-boards.

Somehow I sputtered out words to describe my filmmaking work to give voice to those people who feel marginalized, even silenced. I referred to my first documentary about Everett Soop, a Blackfoot political cartoonist afflicted with muscular dystrophy. Next, I outlined a film project in development to focus on showing successful examples of under-recognized healing modalities for people afflicted with PTSD in the armed forces.

A woman afterwards kindly offered affirmation by referring to my pitch as “ridiculously endearing.” Regardless, I still felt as if I had blown an opportunity to solicit support. Then, to my delight, two younger men – Christian and Silas, respectively – approached me to arrange a special time for longer conversations. What impressed them was what motivates me as a storyteller – recognizing the beauty and power of the human soul.

Christian was very passionate and animated about the growing phenomenon of trauma, across sectors of society. He envisioned a widespread, and diverse, audience for such a documentary about treatments for PTSD. Such a film story, albeit focused on the armed forces, also could resonate with other types of warriors, from front-line trauma helpers to the everyday warriors such as single moms, many of whom, wrongly and unfairly, get stigmatized as losers or failures despite their daily acts of unsung heroism.

Silas and I enjoyed brief chats en route between the main lodge and dining room, until one evening we sat for a long time together. Our encounters were a double gift. First of all, Silas explicitly acknowledged that the fact I was twice his age was the very reason he wanted to listen to and learn what I had to say. The mothers and grandmothers are deeply respected in the Ugandan culture, unlike how middle-aged and elderly women tend to be valued in mainstream North America. (On that note, dear readers, let us explore ways, across generations, how to transform that unfortunate mainstream scenario.)

What also was joyful, beautiful, and regrettably so rare in a conversation, was our topic – the soul and the purpose of life’s journey to develop and express the soul. The focus on the essence of who we are, healing woundedness, and empowering people to believe in themselves is what Silas heard in my two-minute pitch. Indeed, what I love to do most of all is to help people discover who they can be, as does Silas through his project in Africa with the children (which I mentioned in my previous blog).

Such heartfelt conversational exchanges, combined with formal sessions that focused on the inner life, achieved something that sadly is not common in daily life, either within families or at workplaces. SCI participants experientially opened themselves to be more fully present with each other. The soul felt welcomed in the world, rather than treated with disdain and ridicule, hence, stifled.

Perhaps, therefore, the peeling off of layers of stoic bravery, the unveiling of hidden fear how to survive financially, persevering relentlessly against adversity in the larger world where I constantly feel like a salmon swimming upstream, is why – on the final morning in a circle of SCI participants – I had a meltdown.

Shape-shifting into a human waterfall, I flowed outdoors. More than anything, I wanted to lay down on the earth and weep like a baby until there were no more tears. But, a boat and two planes had their real world schedules, and the clock was ticking. Consequently, I had to pour myself into a bucket and get me and my luggage to the shuttle van.

How I propose to apply the inner, and outer, experiences at SCI in professional work will be the subject of upcoming blogs. And, yes, a meltdown is a beneficial teaching as well.

What attracted me to attend Social Change Institute (SCI) 2012 at Hollyhock, British Columbia, was the opportunity to be within a circle of like-minded professionals, business people, organizations, as well as visual and performing artists, who share the same intentionality in our respective pursuits – co-creating a better world that inclusively benefits the human family and planetary well-being.

The first aspect of SCI’s uniqueness is the phenomenon of such a gathering of multi-faceted knowledge, experience and talent – across sectors – to learn together and collaborate.

For different sectors seldom come together to exchange knowledge and make the effort to understand each other’s contributions more fully, particularly to address the bigger picture of improving the quality of life for all. Even within a single sector or, indeed, single organization – individuals’ conflicting priorities and a focus on short term needs, can short circuit larger long term possibilities.

Regardless, I believe the imperative question of this historic moment, for each and every human being is: “Which story are you caught in?” Here I repeat a quote by visionary philosopher Jean Houston, whom I cited in my previous blog.

In other words, are we holding on for dear life to the story that is familiar to us, namely, practicing the same professional and personal practices and habits in the illusion of security, even as the natural environment and climate exhibit radical changes, and the economic base is crumbling under us, evident most obviously in increasing job losses and growing nation state crises?

The significance of Hollyhock’s SCI, and its affiliated institutes, is that the participants pro-actively want to write a new story. This story is not linear, yet instead circular, to take humanity on a life-affirming, spiral journey of page-turning planetary possibilities.

Some folks already have become the characters of the beginning chapters of this new story, experientially living and manifesting it, modelling what is possible in this moment’s planetary project. These folks are from all generations.

In fact, an SCI `intergenerational’ dialogue one evening offered a safe space for everyone to voice the widespread problem in getting jobs and their mixed experiences with other generations. The dialogue circles were healing and unifying. For everyone had a story of feeling discriminated against because of age, regardless of how young or how old each of us happens to be.

Participants also challenged the negativity of mainstream news stories which tend to pit different generations against each other. One future task became self-evident, the need to encourage or initiate group and community dialogues wherever we live, to discuss ways to value and apply the skills and wisdom of all generations.

Judy Rebick, veteran activist, and host of the `intergenerational’ opening presentation titled The Art of Social Change Leadership, introduced a wonderful example of working across generations, documented in her latest book Occupy This!

Tzeporah Berman also numbered among the several inspiring keynote speakers. In a morning presentation, she regaled the SCI participants with tales from the days of the  Clayoquot Sound protest and being imprisoned, among other anecdotes from her recent book This Crazy Time, Living Our Environmental Challenge.

Silas Balabyekkubo is a hip hop artist and co-founder of Luba Flow, a positive form of hip hop in Uganda. He brought tears to our eyes through the gentle love that he expressed, singing about why and how the lives of the children of Uganda can be transformed. He is dedicated to that pursuit. I will speak more about Silas in my next blog.

What impressed me overall at SCI was the emphasis on what is possible. In that engagement, we rose above the common human tendency to spin our wheels in repeating what is wrong with the world, and getting stuck deeper in the mud of self-induced powerlessness.

In the yin-yang of life, however, we cannot ignore the perceived obstacles, but instead need to recognize and name them clearly. Next, the more difficult work essential for making change requires us to shore up courage, integrity and our other higher qualities, to help us move past the inevitable resistance of human nature to change.

The second aspect of the SCI’s uniqueness, in that spirit, was its holistic approach to professional, and more specifically, leadership development. For five days, change makers in social justice and environmental advocacy and activism came together to shore up each other, and also be nurtured and reinforced by advisors and supporters who recognize the mental, emotional, physical and spiritual toll of doing this work.

Too often – and I know from life long experience – choosing to work towards a bigger vision can be lonely and disheartening, even crushing, when surrounded by so many people either indifferent in the cocoon of their own comfort or shut down from fear, despair, bereft of vision, feeling overwhelmed just to get from one day to the next.

At the opening morning focus forum, guest speaker Gibran Rivera set the holistic tone for the SCI experience by inviting the inclusion of the soul. True to an authentic spiritual way of offering something to reflect upon, in his follow up role to begin the evening sessions, he raised heartfelt questions for us to explore, such as: What brings you joy? What are you seeking?

The range of SCI participatory interactions, from serious to playful, addressed the strengthening of both outer and inner capabilities of each respective participant, whether an emerging or veteran change maker. In this way, the SCI demonstrated the mandate of Hollyhock, as `Canada’s Lifelong Learning Centre’: “to inspire, nourish and support people making the world better.”

The SCI program, first of all, included a diversity of skill-building workshops, focus forums, and one-on-one sessions, in which participants received hard-nosed, practical advice about effective strategies, financial accountability, and how to achieve clearly identifiable goals.

As an example of a `focus forum,’ on each of three mornings, a case study of a nonprofit organization was examined (after a presentation by its founder), based on its good work to date and how to move it forward. Selected 2012 organizations included Shark Truth, 350.org, and the British Columbia Civil Liberties Association.

Also integral to the SCI’s holistic approach were: the inclusion of pre-breakfast very early morning meditation and yoga; free choice to take time out through the day for private moments in the Sanctuary and/or going for walks on the beach or in the woods; and evening sessions that included dialogue circles and experiential exercises to explore our inner emotional and spiritual condition in a respectful atmosphere. Later evening music and dancing was optional for anyone who still had the energy.

Something extraordinary happens when people choose to bring all of who they are to be present in a compassionate circle of fellow human beings. I believe it was the photographer Andre Kertesz who once said: “The eyes are the windows to the soul.”

In safe spaces of intimate conversation, when people make eye contact and totally pay attention to another human being, it is a beautiful gift. For the sad reality felt by many people in our troubled world is that the soul very often is not welcomed. Indeed, we witness the consequences of a neglected soul so painfully evident in mental health problems, addictions and other misguided acts of destruction.

The third aspect of SCI’s uniqueness speaks to the present moment of technological obsession in the larger society. A growing number of people are so attached to their communication gadgets that these inanimate objects become 24/7 virtual appendages.

How refreshing, throughout the SCI, to experience a non-beeping environment, and instead immerse oneself in the joy and power of personal encounters in which our innate skills such as `active listening’ could be awakened.

A computer lab was available at SCI and participants could use their own gadgets, privately. But, in the sessions, mobile technologies were blessedly absent, in order to give full attention and respect to the processes. Discussion about the creative and valuable strategies in applying social media to support social and environmental change happened, appropriately, in some sessions.

A fourth, yet not necessarily final, aspect of SCI’s uniqueness was the authenticity in which the natural beauty, peace and sacredness of Cortes Island is enhanced by the conscientious development of the physical operating systems at Hollyhock. Moreover, residents, workers and guests all are requested to abide by environmentally sustainable practices.

The implicit message, in regard to all our activities, was to acknowledge our co-existence with all forms of life, upon which we depend. Therefore, in living quarters particularly, the plumbing system ensured that we would be frugal in our use of water. Minimizing any waste was proactively encouraged. We removed our outdoor footwear whenever we entered buildings.

Our meals mostly came out of the gorgeous garden next to the dining hall and the ocean, to offer a pesco-vegetarian diet. After each nutritious meal, each person was responsible to bring all dishes, utensils and leftovers to the appropriate bins for cleaning and compost disposal.

To sum up, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, every participant would depart the SCI fortified personally, and also enriched by new insights and tools to bestow in their respective services to humanity and planetary healing.

The next blog will outline personal SCI highlights and why they had special meaning related to the trajectory of my own work.

A two-day workshop on “Documentary Storytelling and Film Structure” with Tom Schlesinger was an extraordinary experience for several reasons. At the time, a month ago, I felt as if I were in a liminal space – an in between space out of time – between giving palliative care to a departing mentor/friend and heading off across the country in the hope to open a new door into my future.

What deeply impresses me is not just the content of Tom’s seminar yet, moreover, the manner in which he presents himself as a teacher – spiritually centred – although he focuses on the very practical business of screenwriting. His Zen mode is so relaxed that at first I wondered how we would get through the material. Yet, we did.

Tom suggests to seminar participants how the best screenwriting requires a vertical journey of storytelling as well as a strong horizontal storyline. The willingness to take that vertical journey, he emphasizes, is what separates a powerful documentary story from the “reality TV treatment of such a story… TV would flatten the storyline.”

How refreshing to hear a veteran screenwriter, story consultant and trainer, express so clearly how to distinguish a strong documentary narrative from reality TV programs, without needing to be at all judgmental – again, as I would characterize it, speaking from a place of spiritual groundedness.

In fact, he advises all of us not to waste energy blaming and criticizing the challenges in, and threats to, doc filmmaking today. But, instead, we need to focus on how we still can craft a powerful screenwritten story – working together as writers, directors and editors, and in regard to deepening the appreciation of producers about what it takes to create a more marketable film.

Given the outer world focus on marketability of everything these days, Tom himself raises the question pertaining to a major challenge today for documentary filmmakers: “How do you find the confluence of your creative passion and commercialism?” His answer: “The stronger you create your horizontal storyline, the deeper you can go vertically.”

In the current economic climate, Tom recommends “starting with distribution and working backwards.” Given his seminar refrain that the creation of a strong film will require major changes from the original story concept, I asked how does a filmmaker present a story idea on a website, for example, to appeal to funders, but then change it without losing support?

Tom’s answer: “Be diplomatically tutorial.” In other words, “be direct and honest from the beginning, and take the website audience (and the producers) on the journey with you. Inform the audience when your film story requires new and added components, emphasizing how these elements will strengthen the final, more important story.”

The foremost challenge for the documentary filmmaker, however – and a crucial theme of Tom’s seminar – is how we confront, and let go, our own inner obstacles throughout the screenwriting process, such as habits of perfectionism and too much control of the story. “As earthlings we like to control things,” he remarks.

What I consider to be significant in the process that he presents to us, as filmmaking participants, is the following. Essential to the journey for the storyteller is a process that mirrors what is essential for any person in real life in order to journey closer to his or her human potential. In short, the power of a good story is how deeply it resonates with human truth at deep emotional, yet unconscious levels.

Tom’s presentation, therefore, is fascinating for me. The reason is, I personally had taken this inner transformative journey in a real life seven-year spiritual quest, mapping it as a narrative that I hope to publish and use as a template for my own future workshops. The quest is known as either the `hero’s journey’ or `descent to the goddess.’

As well, in the midst of my own experiential journey I also wrote, directed and produced a documentary film Soop on Wheels, in which I mapped my film subject Everett Soop’s life as a `hero’s journey’ – intuitively and unconsciously at the time.

In Tom’s seminar process, he punctuates it by acknowledging the various mentors through his life who imparted their wisdom to him and who influence his work profoundly. Among such mentors is the late, award-winning screenwriter Waldo Salt (Midnight Cowboy, Serpico, Coming Home). Also included are the late renown mythologist Joseph Campbell and visionary philosopher Jean Houston.

The vertical journey described by Tom pertains to the more intriguing aspects about what makes us human and, in turn, what creates the powerful stories that have engaged human beings through millennia. The reason is, we as audiences project ourselves onto the characters in the story. In doing so, we get hooked and want to stay with the story despite our resistances as per human nature.

The challenge for the screenwriter, director and editor, as Tom spells out, is to get past our own resistances as well as projections of our own biases. These inevitably will come up during the development of the story, through interviews with film subjects and even the choice of film subjects, plus surprises both in the field research and the shooting.

Tom points out another challenge related to the current marketplace for documentary films. Our own serious issues are competing with numerous other serious issues in films, that is, those films critiquing what is wrong with the world. But, he cautions: “If you are trying to make the other side wrong, it is not a story anymore.” The result becomes merely propaganda.

Provocatively, Tom suggests: “It helps to shape shift to the other side and it is not condoning what they are doing; but instead you are on a journey to find out why they are doing it.

“Create opposition and understand both sides of the opposition. The role of the doc filmmaker is not about being right, but rather about telling a good story.”

That bit of wisdom is profound. For I suggest, the human imperative today is to develop the capacity to participate in a dialogue that contains opposing views, to be in alignment with the path way to conflict resolution, understanding each other, and healing as fellow human beings in the larger world.

As Tom points out, in his speaking style of exquisite clarity: “It is not a news bulletin that we are moving into a new world right now… We cannot revise old systems… New systems need to be created.” Therefore, important to reflect on, as Jean Houston asks in a video on her website: “Which story are you caught in?”

Indeed, Tom tells us that storytellers need to get beyond the struggling artist complex. We instead must own our choice to find new ways of expression, because that is a role much-needed and meaningful. “The imaginal realm is far more vast… to express this inner vision… This is what is creating our new way, our new world.”

To find out more about the content and approach of Tom Schesinger’s screenwriting seminars and story consultancy, I recommend taking one or more of his seminars, whether you are an aspiring, emerging, mid-career or veteran filmmaker.

Tom provides an excellent map of a film’s story structure, and models the benefit for filmmakers to develop their own psychological awareness, in order both to plumb the depths of a film’s characters and also to engage the audience. His two-fold gift is, first of all, inspire you to rise above obstacles to what is possible, and then ground you with practical advice to get there.

To see his outstanding credentials and read other testimonials, go to Tom’s website.