One of the skills that Marshall Rosenberg discusses in Nonviolent Communication : A Language of Life is expressing our needs. He states that, in an ideal world, other people should be sensitive to my needs. But, by the same token, I have a responsibility to tell them what my needs are.
In my former life, I was poor at this. Since I have been involved with my cohousing community, I have been practicing it.
At our weekly shareholders' meeting last night, I asked if we could change the meeting from a Thursday night once a month. This was to accommodate my desire to participate in Sacred Circle Dancing at the Unitarian Fellowship.
Even as I was asking my fellow owners of Pacific Gardens Cohousing Community to consider rescheduling, there was a part of me that felt embarrassed. I thought it was a frivolous request. But, to my delight, everyone else treated it like a perfectly valid desire.
It is gratifying to deal with people who are alive and who support my journey. You guys mean more to me than you can imagine.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Everybody Sings
Since my December 9, 2008 blog post elicited a question, I will provide an update.
Everybody Sings took a recess over Christmas and New Year. We will start up again on Thursday morning, January 15th, 2009.
The weekly session starts at 10.00 a.m. and goes till 12.00 noon, with a short break for tea about half way.
It's held in St Andrew's United Church Hall, at the corner of Fitzwilliam and Wesley Streets, in downtown Nanaimo.
The fee is $7.00 if you drop in. You also have the option of paying $25.00 for four weeks. The fee is reduced to $3.50 for the underwaged.
Another group, in which I have not participated, meets at St Philip's Church, 7113 Lantzville Road, from 7.00 p.m. - 9.00 p.m. on Tuesdays.
You are welcome to e-mail me via my Blogger Profile. If you do so, I can tell you how to get onto the e-mail notification list for Everybody Sings.
I sure am looking forward to singing those toe-tapping songs once again. Everybody Sings operates on the principles of Ubuntu Choirs, and is very informal. You don't have to be able to sing or believe that you can sing in order to join in the fun.
Everybody Sings took a recess over Christmas and New Year. We will start up again on Thursday morning, January 15th, 2009.
The weekly session starts at 10.00 a.m. and goes till 12.00 noon, with a short break for tea about half way.
It's held in St Andrew's United Church Hall, at the corner of Fitzwilliam and Wesley Streets, in downtown Nanaimo.
The fee is $7.00 if you drop in. You also have the option of paying $25.00 for four weeks. The fee is reduced to $3.50 for the underwaged.
Another group, in which I have not participated, meets at St Philip's Church, 7113 Lantzville Road, from 7.00 p.m. - 9.00 p.m. on Tuesdays.
You are welcome to e-mail me via my Blogger Profile. If you do so, I can tell you how to get onto the e-mail notification list for Everybody Sings.
I sure am looking forward to singing those toe-tapping songs once again. Everybody Sings operates on the principles of Ubuntu Choirs, and is very informal. You don't have to be able to sing or believe that you can sing in order to join in the fun.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Could you bear to be happy?
Ever since I moved to Nanaimo, British Columbia in the middle of September 2008, I have been happy -- delectably, deliciously, deliriously happy.
Sure, I've had the occasional test, like the time my vehicle got stuck in the snow on a country road. But even those challenges have turned into blessings. They have brought me into contact with kind people, angels in disguise, whom I otherwise would not have met.
When I first got here, I thought I was going through a honeymoon phase and that it might wear off. Now admittedly, it's still relatively early days for me in Nanaimo. But it is coming up for four months, and -- if anything -- I'm feeling even happier than I did when I arrived.
Some days -- and this has been one of them -- my joy has been so intense that I have found it almost unbearable. I am not accustomed to serving as the container for so much delight.
This has caused me to reflect on my past, when I rarely was as ecstatic as I am now. If sustained happiness could have been handed to me on a platter back then, would I have been receptive to it? Maybe, but then again maybe not.
You may be puzzled by my assertion that I previously could not have tolerated being too happy for too long and the implied extrapolation that many people are the same way. You may be thinking, "Of course I want to be happy. Who wouldn't?"
But just stop and think about it. Could you stand to live in a state of bliss for four months? Never mind that. Could you stand it for four days?
Based on my past performance, I would say I would not have been able to take it. I suspect I was too attached to sadness and fear. They were familiar. I was comfortable being uncomfortable, paradoxical as that may sound.
Having very few breaks from my current state of cheer has been a stretching exercise for me. But, wow, it feels to me like a nice challenge to have.
Sure, I've had the occasional test, like the time my vehicle got stuck in the snow on a country road. But even those challenges have turned into blessings. They have brought me into contact with kind people, angels in disguise, whom I otherwise would not have met.
When I first got here, I thought I was going through a honeymoon phase and that it might wear off. Now admittedly, it's still relatively early days for me in Nanaimo. But it is coming up for four months, and -- if anything -- I'm feeling even happier than I did when I arrived.
Some days -- and this has been one of them -- my joy has been so intense that I have found it almost unbearable. I am not accustomed to serving as the container for so much delight.
This has caused me to reflect on my past, when I rarely was as ecstatic as I am now. If sustained happiness could have been handed to me on a platter back then, would I have been receptive to it? Maybe, but then again maybe not.
You may be puzzled by my assertion that I previously could not have tolerated being too happy for too long and the implied extrapolation that many people are the same way. You may be thinking, "Of course I want to be happy. Who wouldn't?"
But just stop and think about it. Could you stand to live in a state of bliss for four months? Never mind that. Could you stand it for four days?
Based on my past performance, I would say I would not have been able to take it. I suspect I was too attached to sadness and fear. They were familiar. I was comfortable being uncomfortable, paradoxical as that may sound.
Having very few breaks from my current state of cheer has been a stretching exercise for me. But, wow, it feels to me like a nice challenge to have.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Listen for the Truth
This is a follow up to my previous post about people's unmet needs.
When Pacific Gardens Cohousing Community participated in a consensus decision making workshop with Tree Bressen in September 2008, she told us something related to this.
She said that, whenever someone else was talking, it was important to listen for the truth in what they were saying. Again, this was in the context of someone behaving "badly," expressing themselves poorly, being too strident, etc.
Tree said that, in these circumstances, the person often had a gift to offer, even if they were failing to package it attractively. It was our job to find the tiny kernel of truth that was buried deep in the middle of what they shared with us, regardless of how inarticulate they were.
I have found that this has been a valuable practice when someone has been venting. Some of my ranting friends have gifted me with pearls of great wisdom. :-)
When Pacific Gardens Cohousing Community participated in a consensus decision making workshop with Tree Bressen in September 2008, she told us something related to this.
She said that, whenever someone else was talking, it was important to listen for the truth in what they were saying. Again, this was in the context of someone behaving "badly," expressing themselves poorly, being too strident, etc.
Tree said that, in these circumstances, the person often had a gift to offer, even if they were failing to package it attractively. It was our job to find the tiny kernel of truth that was buried deep in the middle of what they shared with us, regardless of how inarticulate they were.
I have found that this has been a valuable practice when someone has been venting. Some of my ranting friends have gifted me with pearls of great wisdom. :-)
Monday, January 5, 2009
Unmet Needs
One of the nuggets of wisdom I learned from Marshall Rosenberg's book, Nonviolent Communication, is that a person who is behaving badly has a need that is not being met.
When I say a person is behaving "badly," this could mean mildly negative behaviour, like pouting or rolling their eyes at what you're saying. At the other end of the spectrum, it could mean they're holding a knife to your throat.
But, wherever their behaviour is on that continuum, they have an unmet need.
Since I have become aware of this, I have found that it has taken a lot of discipline for me to remember it when someone has been ranting at me. But, wow, it sure improves the outcome of the conversation!
When I have been able to listen to someone and let them finish venting, they eventually have calmed down, and we have gone on to have a rewarding interaction.
Recently my son asked me about the main insights I'd gained from the consensus decision making workshop I'd participated in and my reading of the book on nonviolent communication. I cited the recognition of unmet needs as one of them.
My son then asked, "Well, what has that enabled you to do? Have you recognized what the other person's unmet need is, and what have you been able to do with that information?"
I responded that I had not always been able to recognize what the other person's unmet need was. Sometimes all I had been able to do was say to myself, "S/he is ranting. Therefore s/he has an unmet need."
I told my son that, if nothing else, this helped me to avoid getting caught up in the other person's drama. At a minimum, I was able to stay calm, and listen. This bought me time. I felt that that alone was valuable.
But, later in a conversation, when my initial feeling of defensiveness has quietened down, I often have been able to detect what the other person's unmet need has been. Then I have been able to acknowledge it and, together, we have been able to discuss how the need could be addressed.
My point, though, is that this insight has been valuable to me even when I have failed to recognize exactly what the unmet need has been. Just reminding myself of the existence of the unmet need in itself has been useful.
With that having been said, I do not want to sound as if I am discounting the amount of commitment and self control that are required to implement this strategy. At times, the effort needed to do this is huge.
When I say a person is behaving "badly," this could mean mildly negative behaviour, like pouting or rolling their eyes at what you're saying. At the other end of the spectrum, it could mean they're holding a knife to your throat.
But, wherever their behaviour is on that continuum, they have an unmet need.
Since I have become aware of this, I have found that it has taken a lot of discipline for me to remember it when someone has been ranting at me. But, wow, it sure improves the outcome of the conversation!
When I have been able to listen to someone and let them finish venting, they eventually have calmed down, and we have gone on to have a rewarding interaction.
Recently my son asked me about the main insights I'd gained from the consensus decision making workshop I'd participated in and my reading of the book on nonviolent communication. I cited the recognition of unmet needs as one of them.
My son then asked, "Well, what has that enabled you to do? Have you recognized what the other person's unmet need is, and what have you been able to do with that information?"
I responded that I had not always been able to recognize what the other person's unmet need was. Sometimes all I had been able to do was say to myself, "S/he is ranting. Therefore s/he has an unmet need."
I told my son that, if nothing else, this helped me to avoid getting caught up in the other person's drama. At a minimum, I was able to stay calm, and listen. This bought me time. I felt that that alone was valuable.
But, later in a conversation, when my initial feeling of defensiveness has quietened down, I often have been able to detect what the other person's unmet need has been. Then I have been able to acknowledge it and, together, we have been able to discuss how the need could be addressed.
My point, though, is that this insight has been valuable to me even when I have failed to recognize exactly what the unmet need has been. Just reminding myself of the existence of the unmet need in itself has been useful.
With that having been said, I do not want to sound as if I am discounting the amount of commitment and self control that are required to implement this strategy. At times, the effort needed to do this is huge.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Touching the Void
A while ago a friend recommended the above mentioned documentary to me. Somehow I had managed to miss Joe Simpson's popular book of the same title that had been translated into sixteen languages.
My friend said that, while the documentary was faithful to the book, the book's first person account had a different quality to it, and it was worthwhile taking in both of them. Having watched the documentary, I now am half way through the book. I agree that they both are excellent. However, if you have time for only one of them, the movie certainly is a quicker (and still very compelling) way of accessing the information.
In 1985 two young British mountaineers were the first (and so far only) people to summit the west face of Siula Grande in the Peruvian Andes. Soon after starting their descent, Joe Simpson broke his leg. This was a virtual death sentence. Nonetheless, his climbing companion, Simon Yates, made the choice not to abandon him but to lower him in stages with the use of a 300-foot rope.
But there came a point at which Joe dropped over an overhang and was dangling in the air. Simon had no choice but to cut the rope and consign Joe to a certain death. The only other option would have been to let gravity pluck them both off the mountain.
Miraculously, Joe's fall did not kill him. His lone struggle to reach help is one of the most gripping accounts in the history of alpine mountaineering.
It just happened that I watched the documentary at a time when I was scared out of my senses by developments in my own life (my financial situation, etc.). The documentary helped me to put my problems into perspective. Frightening as they seemed to me, my challenges were by no means life threatening.
There seemed to be another parallel between Joe's situation and mine. There was no safe way out of his bind. If he was to have the remotest chance of survival, Joe had to embrace even greater danger.
Although my position was nothing like as precarious as Joe's, it sure felt terrifying to me. I felt as if I was plunging into an abyss. Consequently, my friend's recommendation of Touching the Void was very timely.
I am glad I chose to follow my bliss. I don't feel as if I am out of the woods yet. But there is no comparison between the quality of life I am enjoying now and that which I was experiencing while I supposedly was "safe." I am living in such a profoundly different mental and emotional space that I may as well be on another planet.
I used to be such a wuss but, in following my heart, I now have displayed courage. Interestingly enough, the English word, courage, comes from the Old French word, cuer, which means heart.
My friend said that, while the documentary was faithful to the book, the book's first person account had a different quality to it, and it was worthwhile taking in both of them. Having watched the documentary, I now am half way through the book. I agree that they both are excellent. However, if you have time for only one of them, the movie certainly is a quicker (and still very compelling) way of accessing the information.
In 1985 two young British mountaineers were the first (and so far only) people to summit the west face of Siula Grande in the Peruvian Andes. Soon after starting their descent, Joe Simpson broke his leg. This was a virtual death sentence. Nonetheless, his climbing companion, Simon Yates, made the choice not to abandon him but to lower him in stages with the use of a 300-foot rope.
But there came a point at which Joe dropped over an overhang and was dangling in the air. Simon had no choice but to cut the rope and consign Joe to a certain death. The only other option would have been to let gravity pluck them both off the mountain.
Miraculously, Joe's fall did not kill him. His lone struggle to reach help is one of the most gripping accounts in the history of alpine mountaineering.
It just happened that I watched the documentary at a time when I was scared out of my senses by developments in my own life (my financial situation, etc.). The documentary helped me to put my problems into perspective. Frightening as they seemed to me, my challenges were by no means life threatening.
There seemed to be another parallel between Joe's situation and mine. There was no safe way out of his bind. If he was to have the remotest chance of survival, Joe had to embrace even greater danger.
Although my position was nothing like as precarious as Joe's, it sure felt terrifying to me. I felt as if I was plunging into an abyss. Consequently, my friend's recommendation of Touching the Void was very timely.
I am glad I chose to follow my bliss. I don't feel as if I am out of the woods yet. But there is no comparison between the quality of life I am enjoying now and that which I was experiencing while I supposedly was "safe." I am living in such a profoundly different mental and emotional space that I may as well be on another planet.
I used to be such a wuss but, in following my heart, I now have displayed courage. Interestingly enough, the English word, courage, comes from the Old French word, cuer, which means heart.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
A poignant New Year's Eve
Last night I did another volunteer shift at the Emergency Weather Shelter at the First Unitarian Fellowship of Nanaimo.
It felt challenging to me. The behaviour of some of our guests was difficult.
Yet, with that having been said, our guests showed great caring and empathy towards each other. My volunteer stints at the Emergency Weather Shelter have demonstrated to me that homeless people form communities.
Although being homeless seems to be incredibly harsh (I'm sure more than I can begin to imagine), the level of concern and kindness within those communities is humbling.
My fellow volunteers also were inspiring examples of compassion and authenticity.
There is a silver lining to every cloud. The three-week (and counting) spell of severe weather we've experienced in Nanaimo has enriched my life by providing me with unexpected encounters with remarkable people.
It felt challenging to me. The behaviour of some of our guests was difficult.
Yet, with that having been said, our guests showed great caring and empathy towards each other. My volunteer stints at the Emergency Weather Shelter have demonstrated to me that homeless people form communities.
Although being homeless seems to be incredibly harsh (I'm sure more than I can begin to imagine), the level of concern and kindness within those communities is humbling.
My fellow volunteers also were inspiring examples of compassion and authenticity.
There is a silver lining to every cloud. The three-week (and counting) spell of severe weather we've experienced in Nanaimo has enriched my life by providing me with unexpected encounters with remarkable people.
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