people like us, dear

It is often hard to be a person on the planet Earth. It can be scary, overwhelming, fraught with obstacles, and most of all, inescapably lonely. We are, after all, alone in our minds, our bodies, and our selves. I think most all of the stuff we do as people - creating, building, loving, consuming and communicating is meant, at the most basic level, to help us forget or at least put a band aid on the ache of that loneliness.

That is one reason we band together in tribes of similarity and often poke fun (or worse) at those who are other. Race, nationality, politics, religion, non religion, gay, straight, gender, geography. We work so hard to escape the singularity and loneliness of existence by being a part of something bigger. Today this country is as divided as I ever thought I’d see it. After 2000, 2001, and then 2004 I didn’t think it could get worse, but it feels like it is. Do you remember the horror, the rage, the fear? I think back on it a lot these days. I saw grown men on all sides of the political spectrum weep and rage. I watched people of all flavors do both beautiful and horrible things. Just like now.

I am as sad as I am hopeful. We are faced with terrific challenges today. Yet we cling so tightly to the myths that separate us instead of reaching for the meanings that could unite us. I, like everyone, often take refuge in the ability to reach out to those who think as I think, or who recognize me as part of their team. “Lifelines in the midst of the madness”, I say to myself, so thankful I have the opportunity. It might be friends, family, colleagues, or acquaintances I meet online, might be a chance encounter and conversation that makes my day. These days we have tools to help us seek out other people like us, whatever us might mean. It can be easy to find someone to answer our need to not be alone, our need to be understood.

One danger is that all this connectivity within easy reach can reinforce the tribes of sameness we cling to so tightly. It often makes us more rigid instead of less, and less tolerant instead of more. I think we need so much to belong, to understand and be understood, to find connection and meaning that takes away the ache of loneliness, that in our searching and our finding we forget that everyone else is doing it too. Thus, those who are not part of our tribe become less human. It reduces us, collectively, as people, and it is dangerous.

It is so common, and it scares me. I’m trying to fight it within myself, trying to see the humanity within the folks that frighten and enrage me. Its not easy. I have to leave the comfort zone of my tribe, and work to see something that humanizes the other. It is hard to fight the “us vs. them” mentality that seems so central to any discussion today. It becomes easier when one practices seeing it as an artificial divide, a human construction.

That practice requires fearlessness. If one accepts the premise that what divides us is not a given, but our own creation forged from our own fears and vulnerabilities, then so are the group identities that give us comfort and meaning. Thus, we find our selves truly alone, which is the uncomfortable position that contributed to the mess in the first place. Hopefully, though, the practice and effort will yield a healthier and more realistic perspective, and most importantly, the ability to reach out with compassion and strength, instead of lashing out and manufacturing distance from fear.

Are you out there, can you hear this,
Jimmy Olsen, Johnny Memphis
I was out here listening all the time,
And though the static walls surround me
You were out there, and you found me,
I was out here listening all the time

......Are You Out There, Dar Williams

Walls Fall Down

The world seems to have gone mad. Not really of course, but it there are times it feels that way, what with the financial meltdown, an incredibly bizarre VP choice, and the finality of no more WAMU commercials, ever. Crazy times. Scary times. Periodically I look out my window to see if the Mississippi has reversed course like it did in 1812 from an earthquake here in Missouri. Some real activity on the New Madrid fault would be the icing on the cake, especially after waking up to a bed shaking appetizer earlier this year.

All this crazy stuff happening out in the world fits so well with my own business related lessons. In the wee hours of sleepless mornings I sometimes agonize about that fact that, in essence, I gamble for a living. All my careful research, preparations, and process only serve to remind me of all the things I do not control. I may have the ideal candidate, perfectly prepped, and poised to solve real problems at a receptive client. After a lovefest interview and an out of this world offer, my candidate might get an even more out of this world offer and turn my client down, or end up having faked an MBA, or lose the job because the client discovers his ultra-kinky porn site complete with rubber sheets, war paint and golden showers. In perfect situations I am not in control, and I so rarely have the best situations to manage.

It is a great for me to earn a living at the same time as it is crazy making. Every day I come face to face with the fact that no matter how hard I work, or how good I am at what I do, life happens and I am not in charge, even though I want to pretend I am.

Life happens. Sometimes good stuff, sometimes terrible stuff. Walls fall down. We don't decide what will happen to us, to strangers on the street, or to those for whom we care. We can only control our reactions, and that control is often as much an illusion as any other. I can try to be mindful of how I react to the person that cuts me off in traffic, but, more often than not, my determination to look with eyes of compassion is forgotten when the big truck almost runs me off the road. I'm working on that, but I have a long way to go.

I think wrestling with expectations and illusions of control on a personal and business level have helped me keep some perspective about the direction the world is going, economically, politically, and socially. I can only do what I can do, and mostly that is keeping my head on straight when things go pear shaped. Seeing and accepting circumstances as they really are instead of how I think they ought to be is the only way to have forward motion in an uncertain world. Focusing on that helps me to remember that while I am most certainly not in charge, I do have choices, even when the walls are falling down around me.