The space in between

Recently I was at a Wisdom School, a hiatus between two chapters of my life.

….Now you’re probably wondering what a Wisdom School is.

It’s a new space where meditation, conscious work, and teaching come together. You’ll find Christian contemplatives, Integralists, Sufis, and other fine interspiritual folk coming together for quiet, mindfulness, and community.  Each person comes to create some distance between life on autopilot and more conscientious living. (Ironically, we come to let go of an unhelpful habit or attachment and then find 6 more by the end.)

But at the core, Wisdom Schools help something new to emerge.

The retreat marked my ‘retirement’ from the public service and the beginning of a new venture.  I was self-aware enough to know I needed to counter my habit of running in 18 different directions, once I was in exciting, new territory. So choosing quiet over mayham was a good move for me. 

In my case, the quiet also included wet camping- reminding me that wisdom doesn’t come easy.

The chapter I’d left was a great one. It had given me a steady paycheck, passionate team, sunny office and fulfilling work.

This new opportunity held the unknown: a business focused on advancing social and environmental leadership in Canada and around the globe. It meant office nomadism, untested partnerships, and more time working alone alongside with my old dog. I wasn’t sure how solo-entrerpreneurship would go as an extrovert.

 

Doubt: Ms. Soggy Boots

 

Now, I’m a month in. As with any transition, there are days I’m feeling inspired, creative, connected. Other days I am questioning “what have I done?”! This is traversing the unsettling space of ‘what next’?

The soggy field and the pelting rain at Wisdom School didn’t help. My tent fly was tighter than my IT band after a long run. The feathers of my sleeping bag banded together, protesting any kind of loft. Deer droppings were everywhere, including the spot where I lay down my face towel.

I had forgotten my rain jacket, so wore a cut out garbage bag that the kitchen staff had kindly loaned. There I was: an emotional vagabond, watching myself in a stark and unflattering documentary.

Jumping ship. Leaving the harbour. Whatever the metaphor (be aware, I mix mine all the time), shifting from certainty and comfort was terrifying. 

What if I can’t deliver what people need?

What if I suck at putting myself out there?

What if I can’t create the partnerships, projects, and creative collaborations that I want.

Just my friend, Doubt (fondly known as Ms. Soggy Boots) visiting. She loves stomping in the puddles of uncertainty.

 

The fear of the unknown

 

While I’ve got the outlines of what I want to create, I don’t have the full picture.

I know I’ll be feeding a global movement of community builders who believe personal transformation and social innovation are inseparable.

But what I’ll do or make, for sure, is unknown.

And when I can’t see the next steps I impulsively acquire information and tools. Like a squirrel anticipating a cold swing of the jet stream, I frantically skim websites, social media, old journals and notes to be well prepared and helpful. 

It’s one of my top coping skills to manage the fear of not knowing.

 

How much space can you give yourself?

 

But then I remembered what one of my new Wisdom School friends asked:

“Jennifer, how much space will you allow yourself, to see what takes shape?”

 “You mean, OUTSIDE, the retreat?” I said, skeptically.

I am taking his words in now.

As I explore the contours of my new transition, I take time to listen to the laboured breaths of Mr. Old Dog Ulu. I heat up my Americano four times and spend more time on the sunny, weathered porch. I observe the habits of my mind and body, paying attention to what serves me (or not) in this generative space of beginning anew.

Wisdom School created a place to settle in, listen, and receive. It helped me remember to that I need to create space, not just in retreats, but outside of them as well.

 

Practice

In your own leadership journey what do you need to give space to, so that something new can emerge?

This week, I invite you to consider:

• In your own habits of thinking or feeling- what do you need to let go of?
• With your professional and personal relationships- what’s needed to enliven them?
• For the system or organization you are working in- could more spaciousness deliver better results?

If any part of this resonates, leave a comment below! Let me know what you are inviting this week?

 Jennifer

 

P.S.  If you want to create some time and space for yourself, I’d love to talk about how one of my coaching programs could support you. Book now to see how I can help!

P.P.S I’ll post a photo of my favorite 16 year old canine, Mr. Old Dog Ulu, over on Instagram. These days, he keeps trying to jump into the car even though his legs collapse. It’s an old habit he’s trying to let go of.