November | 2013 | Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray)

While at 27 Powers this past week, I was lucky enough to get to sit in on one of Laurie’s Wild Writing classes. How the class works is Laurie gives a prompt, reads a poem and then gives a line or two to spark the writing, which is 15 minutes of never letting your pen leave the page, seeing where it might take you, and she offers three rounds of the practice per class session. On this day of rest, I’d like to share a bit of what I wrote.

At the start of the second session Laurie read us Maya Stein’s poem, this is how you do it, and gave us the lines “this is how you do it” and “you were trying to save the world, that’s all.” I wrote,

This is how you do it, tender imperfection and fierce compassion and the dirty dishes and the bills and the way he looks at you and the burs and slivers and stickers that need to be carefully removed, the broken bits to be swept up and tossed or glued together depending on how precious the piece or how much it feels on this particular day like you need it, even if it is only a shadow of whole.

This is how you do it, you get on the plane, rent the car, show up in space, come in from Colorado or Monday or a dream, you show up, you are present, and when it’s over, you go back home. You kiss the boy, then the other boy, you leave the bag packed in the corner, eat dinner, go to bed, get back to work the next morning, digging in the bag for what you need right now, but still not unpacking.

This is how you do it, you get back to practice — you pull a card, write the words, sit and follow your breath, walk the dog, move your body into the poses. You show up, return, let go and come back, again and again.

This is how you do it, you write the content, edit the pieces, code and publish, answer the questions, troubleshoot the issues, get paid.

This is how you do it, even though you know the deal, impermanence, death is real, you’ve lived with it, been there, let it in, let it go, even thought it’s like stripping naked and handing them the sharpest knife, this is how you do it, allow it all in, to touch you, beautiful and brutal, tender and terrible, the mess, the dirt, the stink, the blood, the light, the laughter, you let it warm you, burn you, destroy you.

This is how you do it, bird by bird, every day, every moment, showing up for when it’s brilliant, for when it’s sharp, for when it’s the same old shit again, you show up, you stay with it, even when it makes you want to poke your eye out with a pencil, to run away screaming, to smash something, anything, to be anywhere but here, you show up, you stay, you keep coming back, letting go. You are trying to save the world, that’s all, and this is how you do it.

In the last round, Laurie read Maya Stein’s poem trash mandala, and the prompts were, “let your pain become a trash mandala” and “what’s torn away can steer you.” This round, we were running short on time, so we only wrote for 10 minutes. I wrote,

Let your pain become a trash mandala. So, unlike some who build a shrine, a dwelling, or worse yet a home or a fortress from what’s been lost, what hurts, who move in and live there, nail “no trespassing” signs to a fence made from bones and knives and broken liquor bottles — not like that, not that way, but rather pick up the pieces, what’s torn, the bits of what is lost, what is left, what you’ve found, and arrange it, shape it into something that heals, the kind of thing that wouldn’t have been possible without the broken bits, the left behind, the lost. Make what only you are able to see, looking in the cracked mirror of your grief.

Let your grieving meet the shoreline, walk into the water and let the waves knock you down, then get back up. If you keep practicing, it will get easier, you’ll get stronger. Pick the pieces the waves offer you, what calls to you, sparkles when the light touches it, pick them up and put them in your pocket, keep walking, keep collecting.

What’s torn away can steer you. Your life, all the struggles, what you see as obstacles, this is the path, this is the stuff to work with, this is your material, this is the trash, the treasure.

Let your pain become a trash mandala. Maya will make a bike, you could string together a trash ukelele, someone else might grind it all up and make paint, or medicine. See what you see, offer it and let it go — don’t move in and live there.

I hope you go to Maya Stein’s website and read more of her poetry, kind and gentle reader. She’s amazing.

I first encountered Cigdem Kobu’s work by way of an amazing project she created in 2012, A Year With Myself. That fall, I did Reset. Revive. Restart., a collaboration between Cigdem and Sandi Amorim. I am excited in the years to come to take advantage of the support she offers women solopreneurs — she describes that work this way,

I help quiet-loving women solopreneurs build a unique online business with more ease and less stress so that they do their greatest work and earn a lot more doing what fulfills their hearts. I write, I teach, I design e-programs, build websites, connect people, and create peacefully supportive communities. And I teach other creative people (in plain English) how to do the same. I believe business is fun when it nourishes your heart first and that building a business is the best way for deep personal growth.

Everything Cigdem creates is infused with a particular tenderness and strength that is unique to her. She creates safe and supportive spaces where women are able to discover their own power, a fierce love energy that is so essentially feminine. So often, culture attempts to strip women of this power, to bind and restrict them, and Cigdem offers a way out, a “cease-fire,” freedom.

Cigdem is a writer, business advisor and teacher who pursues peaceful triumphs in life, work and art. She also runs the Progress Lounge, a peaceful business haven where she helps introverted women solopreneurs build a sustainable and joy-filled business that fits them like a glove. I am so happy to offer her perspective on self-compassion with you.

1. What does self-compassion mean, what is it? How would you describe or define it?

For me, self-compassion is keeping a caring, gentle eye on my most important needs and desires – big or small and inner or outer – and giving myself the permission to do more of what brings me ease and energy, and less of what drains me.

2. How did you learn self-compassion? Did you have a teacher, a guide, a path, a resource, a book, a moment of clarity or specific experience?

It’s been a long process. And it’s a work in progress. Along the way, my guides were people, books, experiences, journeys, and the lessons that come from recalling, untangling and understanding the past. My past, my family’s past and the past of the world we live in.

Other guides?

Perhaps, rediscovering and remembering over and over again that we’re all deeply connected and that compassion and self-compassion, and loving yourself and another or the Earth cannot be separated… Also, finding out that this nugget of truth is one that I must remind myself of day in day out.

3. How do you practice self-compassion, what does that experience look like for you?

(i) I focus on noticing.

I watch, I observe, and I lean into myself. Self-compassion cannot be thought apart from self-discovery and self-understanding. Everything I do whether related to personal or business growth is deeply connected with self-discovery and the deeper alignment that it makes possible. And for that, the first step for me has always been noticing.

(ii) I allow myself to spend as much quiet and alone time as I need to feel energized.

I’m a hard-core introvert, and if I don’t get my daily quiet and me-time, I can get really cranky – toward myself and others. So quiet solitude is what I MUST HAVE for self-compassion – first and foremost.

For me, and many introverted people, white space incites creativity, quiet is a source of energy, and solitude is rich with possibilities. I’ve learned to appreciate and safeguard all three and summon those qualities in every environment I craft for myself and my kind.

(iii) I encourage myself to say “no” when “yes” is not what my heart desires.

Saying “no” has always been one of the most difficult things for me. It took me very long time to learn to say “no” when I really don’t want to say “yes.” It’s still something I’m learning to get better at.

By nature and because of my upbringing, I hate conflicts and making people upset. Isn’t that true for so many of us women? So in my life, I’ve ended up saying “yes” to so many things even though my right answer was, in fact, a big “no.”

Now I’m a little better at saying no. But just a bit better 🙂

What I still have to learn is to say “no” the way my dear friend Tara Rodden Robinson says in The Reliability Manifesto: “When I speak my ‘no,’ I do so with love and courage. Therefore, I say ‘no,’ plainly, without squirming, apologizing, or making superfluous explanations.”

4. What do you still need to learn, to know, to understand? What is missing from your practice of self-compassion, what do you still struggle with?

I think today I’m a little better at self-compassion for my inner self. But I still have space to grow in the way I give my compassion to my body and care for my physical being. Honestly, I suck at it these days.

I used to be better at it in the past. I love my business so much that it doesn’t feel like work at all. But this also causes me to forget to take enough breaks, and I sometimes get caught up in doing more, more, more.

I do a lot of writing and creating in front of the computer. And when I don’t take enough time to rest and move, this quickly starts affecting my physical health.

So I have to keep reminding myself that it’s OK to slow down, and that it’s OK to take slower and smaller steps toward my destination. My natural rhythm rocks. All I have to do is notice and remember. And also, stand up and move.

Like you always say, this is also about “practice, which means showing up again and again with an open heart.” 🙂

I am so grateful to Cigdem, for these responses, but also for her honesty about her own experience and her support of women as they make their offering to the world. To find out more about Cigdem, to connect with her: