“If you find
yourself struggling,” as she so
astutely observes we are, “ask yourself
two questions: 1) Am I breathing? 2) Am
I listening?” I find it ironic that I choose to crawl out
from beneath the covers on this, the first crisp, fall-feeling morning of the
season, in hopes of forgetting current challenges only to find words I used just
yesterday echoed in the voice of my yoga instructor.
The work week ended with a resounding
thud, in some serious frustration, having been approached with not one, but two
problems that leave me stumped. It’s not the first time in my life I’ve been faced with a confounding situation, but the
first time in a long time I’ve felt so
completely devoid of options with no time to stew, under a deadline to solve.
He calls it “the magic,” what
happens when a leader opens up her mind, imagining what her piece of the
business will look like in three, five, even ten years, and shares her thoughts
out loud. It’s my job to supply the journal that casts a spell
on (160) ordinary businesspeople, with just enough but not too many prompts, enabling
them to channel their inner creativity and imagine the possibilities of a
future full of growth they can’t yet see.
As the small group of
decision-makers on the phone furiously debates the tradeoffs of pausing today’s activity to plan the path to tomorrow, I absorb
the discord, and take deep breaths to quell my panic, furiously taking notes in
hopes that in this listening I’m able to
see.
On another front, I ask for
thirty minutes of time late in the day. “She’s wearing me
down,” I tell him in my meeting
invitation, “I need some
more ammunition.” As we talk, I explain how baffled I am, how
lost I feel at my inability to put my finger on what she wants. I’m
questioning whether my preconceived notions are getting in the way. Am I listening? Because I sure can’t see the way forward.
Do people truly ask the
impossible of us, or is there something within ourselves preventing us from
making anything possible?
A yoga instructor will tell you
full expression of the postures is entirely possible; with an open mind, a
dedicated practice, endless patience and a bias for self-love we can all get to
our own personal edge. The answer is in the cues: Breathe to calm down and listen to the words
in the dialogue; they will never fail you.
Rumi says, “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to
seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” Isn’t this our task with everything in life? Doesn’t the voice within cloak the answers to our
toughest questions? What would happen if we were truly open to listening and
not afraid of the inspired and extraordinary answers that magically appear?
My conversation with him leads to
an unconventional service model and the necessary empowerment to offer it. And in this dialogue he finally sees a
barrier he is uniquely positioned to remove for me, clearing one more obstacle in the
path to my full potential.
Helping others imagine and
articulate possibilities is the essence of my writing. It’s about
asking the right questions. Unlocking “the magic” of
strategic thinking in business leaders doesn’t feel a whole lot different. If I can cast aside my fears around putting
my creativity out there, the solution just might reveal itself.
And so I breathe, and listen to
the dialogue in yoga. For the first time in a 1-1/2 year practice, I hear the
part about pressing my shoulders down, and as I do, my legs magically
rise. I’ve hit my personal edge in this, the most
challenging of the 26 postures for me, and surprisingly it’s not a struggle.
We can fight ourselves, or we can
accept the fact that every day, every minute, we are recklessly exposed, and
just go with it. That's the magic.
“Let the
darling finish this who turns listening into seeing.” -- Rumi, These
Exhaling Sounds
