Kelly Newsome Georges
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Haha, love this Dominic! And yes, I believe the happy and sad is captured best by the term “bittersweet” (or “poignant” as highlighted in a book, Bittersweet, that I just finished by Susan Cain). I’ve had this experience too where you’re in a sad state, then somehow you sort of pull it together to be of service – authentically – and it shifts your energy so much that you find yourself flowing through the upsetting issue, much more easily than if you tried to fight or force it. Well played!
Dominic, I find that usually a line or two really stands out to me when I’m reading essays. Yours “I tend to see the basic goodness in everyone I encounter” literally started to bring tears. (I mean, like, embarrassing, right?, but really.) That truly is a gift, and this world sure needs it. And yes, Imposter Syndrome is a real thing — but I’ve seen it a bit differently after this training. I’m starting to see “not knowing” not as a challenge, but a gift, understanding evermore what wisdom truly is. Maybe this is that beginner’s mind that the greats are always jabbering on about? If so, I’d say you’re on the right track. 😉
Hi Kate, I appreciate greatly your simple, powerful phrase “I know I stand on the shoulders of giants.” It is all at once humbling and empowering, isn’t it, to be on this path with all of these brilliant writers, teachers, ancestors?
That said, I do acknowledge your challenges as a teacher, as you describe them here. It seems to me that we all have our own ways of instructing. I don’t know anything about your personal circumstances other than what you’ve shared here; it does seem particularly challenging. I wonder, also: might this be a gift in another way, a way in which you say less than other teachers — and it reaches the very students who prefer it? Less distraction, less words, less less less. The simplicity and spaciousness of less that, honestly, many of us might have trouble settling into?
Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps our challenges are just that, and we can let things “be as they are.” But I personally am quite inspired by your story on the surface of this thing, your presence with obvious physical challenges that, in your simply showing up to teach, give others permission to come as they are, to be here even if they might feel different, to be welcomed in as is, challenges and all.
There is something noteworthy — humbling and empowering, again! — about having us all together in this common goal, with our many differences and difficulties. Thank you for sharing yours and being part of it all.
Gifts:
– Heightened, humble awareness of (and comfort with) what I don’t know.
– Endless desire to learn.
– Open-mindedness, with integrity.
– Intuitively connecting with a student/client energy, spirit, sense.
– Being comfortable with silence.
– Cultivating an energy that is calm and clear, firm and loving, gentle and strong, patient and motivating.
– Assisting others through transformative times and challenge (like the birth transition, infertility, illness, death), with compassion and spaciousness for the others’ experience without it becoming my own.Challenges:
Generally as a teacher..
– I want to do everything at once; it can lead to a scattered state that requires a lot of energy to reign in.
– Also, I made a conscious choice to focus on my family instead of my teaching (this isn’t an obvious challenge with teaching, per se, and I’m completely committed to it — but it is often hard for me and can cut into my self-confidence and respect for my work)For meditation specifically…
– I can be too flowery when I’m inspired. 🙂
– I want to give lots of cues (there are so many good ones!!) and it’s tough to choose.
– I always start wondering if I look weird to the student while I’m meditating.
– I don’t know how I’ll possibly feel trained enough in the Buddhist realm; it can feel like so much, so big, so great. It is deeply humbling.
– I want everyone else to try meditating, too. I have to remind myself to model it mostly, instead of hit people over the head with Start Here Now.I’ll also end this, like my earlier colleagues, with a huge namaste and words of appreciation for your presence and brilliance over the last few months. I’m honored to have been on this journey with each of you.
This is such a cool perspective, Gwen. I hadn’t thought of it in the leadership context but, duh, of course it’s something leaders have to navigate constantly! 🙂 The more I think about this concept, the more I become aware of our daily practice of creating space as we interact with others in this way, aware of their experience and of our own, without letting our own be visible or obvious, but still being conscious of it.
So I had a tough time with this essay in particular – I read it a few times and feel like it just keeps going over my head. (I admit that my “container” at the moment has a few small people running around, asking for water bottle refills and, ironically, arguing over how to make the best friendship bracelets.) All of that said, I decided to spend more time in the comments here and, honestly, all of the things that you (Sangha) said are such a wonderful translation – it has helped me start to grasp the concepts more than when I was reading it alone.
In particular, something Anne said stands out to me: the idea that caregivers are expected, taught, conditioned to be compassionate – and therefore we often do it to “check the box.” That kind of idiot compassion is a wake-up call for so many women (and caregiving men, of course) who want to cultivate the true quality, because compassion nourishes us when it’s real and empties us out when it isn’t. I see idiot compassion as acting “as if” without the authenticity to sustain it; it’s almost a self-sacrificing lesson that teaches us from the inside out what’s true and what isn’t.
In short, though this essay was a bit obtuse for me at first, I think idiot compassion is going to be part of my normal lingo from here on out – as a check-in for others but especially myself.
Your sentence here – essentially, true compassion is quieter – is like a golden thread tying this whole essay together for me (I found it really tough to understand, honestly). Thank you Anne!
This really helped me too, Betsy – idiot compassion is one of those ideas that (and this happens A LOT in my studies here) feels so amorphous and hard to grasp. Your summary helped me settle into the mystery of it a bit more.
There are so many things I wanted to highlight in this essay.
“Step back while also stepping deeply in.”
“It has nothing to do with superior/inferior or enlightened/unenlightened….I am absolutely no different than any of them. However, for various reasons (and because I had prepared for it due to karma and other mysteries), at this moment and for these people, I happened to hold the role of teacher.”
“I am right here with you and also completely alone…”
The first experience that it reminds me of, with striking clarity, is parenting. In the style that I have adopted as my own, I do my best to act as a team with my children, while still being their guide and teacher. I avoid authoritarian styles which assume superiority and dominance (although they clearly predominate widely around our world in homes, schools and more), but I believe in a child’s rights, equality and brilliance – with an emphasis on respect, a balance of firmness/framework and love. It requires an undeniable giving of presence, with a sense of withholding my own experience, because (to paraphrase a source I cannot remember), children are excellent observers but terrible interpreters.
That said, while I seek to share age-and stage-appropriate information with my littles, one difference though is that I discuss and model a wide range of human emotions, even hard ones like annoyance and anger (which I never do when working with clients). But even when I step a bit outside of the teaching model described in the essay and show some feelings, I often hold back a lot. I know that unfiltered disclosure could alter their experience too greatly. It could interfere with my ability to teach, to be “the pilot” of our plane, and offer the trust and confident space that they (as students) need to learn. And honestly, I know that the full experience of it is MY path; it does not have to be part of there’s. It doesn’t have to be something I share.
The second experience, for many of the same reasons, is my former work as a birth and postpartum doula. Particularly during labor and delivery, in the birthing rooms in which I worked, there was no room for my own emotions (or personal opinions, or life situations, or fatigue). There is just you, and the client, and this new life waiting to emerge earthside. Every moment and detail is delicate, and there is no room for the doula’s “feelings.” Usually I could wait until after a birth was over but – as with the process Susan mentioned here – every now and then something would be so difficult I’d have to excuse myself for a few minutes and have a mini-breakdown on another hospital floor, outside, or in my car. There simply was not room to be present with them, to create and cradle that cocoon for them, otherwise.
In both experiences, though, my own emotions always created a depth and resilience that allow me to expand into these roles. It has helped dig a “well” within me to accommodate all of those difficult feelings and experiences of the others. And in this way, it has informed and supported my work — in hospitals and at home!
I find your essay very reflective and insightful, Betsy – it helps to highlight the inherent difficulty (and pressure) in always being able to identify trauma sensitivities. I believe that the truth is, while we can try, we cannot always know. (This is the case for me, too, despite my practice as we discussed above in my essay.)
Honestly, there is so much trauma all over. We all have been touched by it in different ways and, of course, it’s part of what does truly help us connect. By nature, I find this stuff to be so personal and nuanced and complex. You just never know 100% how people will react – and I’m not sure that knowing is our job. Our work, as I understand it so far, is to be informed without that information shrinking us down or diminishing our offering to the world.
So, in your example, I can see you noticing his reaction quickly (which, to me, seems in line with the 4 Rs, and I assume that the school you volunteer with doesn’t have any special situations where teachers are forbidden to have any physical contact). While it’s something to be aware of, it also sounds quite normal to me. My perspective is quite influenced by my environment, though: at our school here in my village, most of the teachers are so affectionate with the kids, and they really thrive. (That said, it’s also the norm for adults to greet each other with 3 kisses on the cheeks, something I’m far too American for. 🙂
I say all of that to posit that perhaps the tendency to touch shouldn’t necessarily be demonized due to our awareness of trauma sensitivity, but practiced, communicated, corrected as needed (even if in the moment). I would encourage gentleness, and curiosity around whatever learning curve you believe you need.
Your openness and willingness to understand, to me at least, seem to be the best places for any of us to begin.
What a thoughtful and gracious response, Betsy – I appreciate it very much. And you hit the nail on the head: my experience working with so many different kinds of clients – from my lawyer work to yoga teaching to doula/maternal support to self-care teaching – has given me quite a playground to hone these skills. We all have our own way, our own path, our own gifts and perspectives – it’s one of the things I love most about being a member of teaching circles like our group. Being a witness to everyone’s experience (and expansion!) is such an adventure and honor. Good luck creating your own application of this concept.
Thank you for including this information and distinction for us, Susan.
Though I still do private client sessions advising on transition, ritual and self-care principles, much of my work at this point is transmitted through writing (books, guides, content). I find the 4 Rs a bit more difficult here, but still possible.
Though my target audience is not in a “trauma niche” I still have to keep this in mind when I create. This might look like identifying that, while “true” self-care rituals are incredible tools, they aren’t a substitute for medical/medicinal or therapeutic support, which are also forms of self-care in my book (realize). In writing, I also pay attention to certain words that I use which could be triggering (recognizing), replacing them with words that convey a similar sentiment (respond) in order to avoid further injury (re-traumatization).
All of that said, like many of us, I probably use the 4 Rs intuitively every day, dealing with other humans. I have a solid awareness of the prevalence of trauma – believing that we all have something, even if it’s not front-page news (realize). I pay attention to cues, whether I mean to or not, from others that always give me an indication of their state (recognizing). I respond with words or nonverbal behavior – maybe mirroring, maybe space, maybe language – accordingly (respond), in order to avoid the (re-trauma).
I believe that for those of us on this path, it may not be completely intuitive but the concepts are far easier to grasp. And I really like how he said they are like a “chord” that can be played all at the same time – it does feel this instant for me.
Hi David, I agree completely with the assemblies idea and wish every class did them. I know from working with my children’s school that when the kids have even 5 minutes to speak freely and openly in class, the teachers see a difference in their behavior. Having others “feel our Rs” is healing.
Hey Katie, I”m with you on this one – when you ask people a question (like for hugging) but you can sense their discomfort, it’s can be really insightful. I think the challenge for me is making sure that I”m not superimposing my own stuff onto someone else, but erring on the side of sensitivity feels really right in my world – especially with potential trauma. It’s a good real-world example of how intuitively the 4 Rs can become with awareness.
