Rebirth

Spring officially began last weekend.  I delight in seeing my spring bulbs stick their bright green sprouts through the soil in search of the sun promised by longer days. The trees in the national park behind my apartment are generously showing their own bright green with a few almost leafed out. Here in Washington blooming trees, including the famous Japanese cherry blossoms which are in peak bloom this very day, abound.  How fortunate I feel to be able to work from work to the Metro every day by this display that others travel from all over the world to experience.

While there are things that I love about each of the four seasons, spring holds promise.  Whatever magical process that has been occurring in the ground during the dark months now moves boldly into the next stage of life's cycle.

We should not be surprised at this time of natural inspiration that many religions mark holidays, such as Easter and Passover, when we gather with friends and family to eat and drink and be joyous after having gone through a period of darkness, threat, and even death or imminent death. Even the Easter Bunny grew out of a pagan celebration of fertility, and Easter eggs are associated with what will be born, indicating that such spring celebrations have long been with us.

I have been called a heretic, so this is a spoiler alert that if you don't want anyone messing with your literal reading of the Easter story, this is a good time to hit the little "X" in the corner and come back another day.

My spiritual roots developed in the Christian tradition, so I observe Easter this weekend.  Although Christianity formed my basic spiritual concepts, I have found learning and guidance in many religious traditions, and now I look at my own stories with a more universal lens of myth and metaphor than with a literal one.

Looking at it in that way, the story of Jesus' death, three days' burial, and his resurrection from the dead mean that it is time for me to sort through my life, find what needs to die, and then commit to how I want to be reborn for the year ahead. The season of Lent, the 40 days before Easter, intends to be a time of coming close to God in contemplation, fasting, deprivation of things that separate us from God, and prayer and meditation.  At this time, we take a hard look at what we have been and what we want to be, and then we determine what new behaviors we want for the future to carry us toward the life we intentionally create.

I believe (more heresy coming) that God is not an anthropomorphic old man with a beard but is instead a force of Love and Good...of caring...that connects all of us. Jesus has been called the great teacher about Love.  Even as he was being tortured in death, he did not anger. I believe his role in the evolution of the world was not to give birth to a religion but instead was to demonstrate what miracles all of us can make happen if we act totally in Love.  Being Love as a noun, something that we are, rather than "love" as a verb, something that we do...or don't do.

The Easter lesson forces me say to myself, "What behaviors, habits, attitudes, or values stand in the way of me being Love?" Those are the things this holiday tells me to put to death, so that I can be reborn in this season of newness as a force for what is good in the world. My work is to be that day in and day out.

Years ago I recall hearing someone reflect on the shadow nature of all of us.  The source is forgotten, but I remember hearing that in all of us, even the worst of us, there is a Mother Teresa who is kind, loving and compassionate. And in all of us, even the best of us, there is an ax murderer, who is driven by hate, fear, and anger and is capable of unmentionable evil.  Our job is to choose who we will be.

That is the work of rebirth: taking a hard look at any speck within us that is driven by anything other than Love and plucking it out.  Then consciously choosing how we become Love in the world.

Working empty

Last week I did good work with a leadership team.  They learned a lot, both about material I presented and about themselves, individually and as a team.  It was "good" work--not "great" work.  Certainly not "inspired" work. 

I used to do a lot of "inspired" work.  I showed up.  Before others arrived, I meditated and prayed to "empty" myself.  I asked to be an instrument of God's love.  When people arrived, I worked with them.  What they brought up was the agenda.  They inevitably led me to questions which took us to where the work needed to occur.  Oh, I'd done work before the event.  Usually, I'd interviewed participants and often attended a few of their meetings, but the most important thing I brought to the session was my emptiness.

That was all when I was self-employed.  I was free to be empty, and I was free to be "inspired."
Then I went to work for other employers.  First it was for consulting firms, and then I became a federal government civil servant.  Deliverables and expectations about what those demanded drove my work.  A PowerPoint deck was mandatory, and planned activities were essential.  Workbooks were necessary.  Every minute needed to be planned for and scripted.  Soon the charade started feeling like training and very little like OD.  Every inch of the emptiness was full, and I went from doing "inspired" work to orchestrating "good" work.

The proscription in medicine is to "do no harm."  "Do no harm" is implicit in organization development as well.  I don't think I've ever harmed any person or group. As the world of delivering to expectations drove me though, "doing no harm" became the necessity rather than "healing."

Lyricist and philosopher John Lennon wrote, "Love is all there is."  When I did "inspired" work, knowing that love was all there is was my compass--my true north.  If I emptied myself and held a room in love, the truth of all the things that separated them from love just bubbled up.

At last it is spring.  For Christians, Easter marks a time of rebirth.  Jews remember the passage from slavery to freedom and a new life under God's guidance.  Everywhere people see new birth of animals and plants as the days grow longer.  Amidst all that clutters our lives over the months during which nature passes through its cycles is love.

Now at the time of rebirth, we have time to blow it all away and remember that whatever we do and wherever we go "love is all there is."  If we will let it, all the other stuff will fill us with illusions of what is.  Our job is to empty ourselves and allow love to drive whatever we do.

Passover

Just after dusk tonight, the commemoration of Passover began, and it will continue until dusk tomorrow. The story behind Passover is familiar to all three Abrahamic traditions--Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

To refresh for those who may have forgotten and to share for those who may not know, God led the Israelites, who had been held in slavery in Egypt, to freedom.  It is said that God sent 10 plagues to Egypt, and the last and worst was the death of first-born children.  "The Israelites were instructed to mark the doorposts of their homes with the blood of a slaughtered spring lamb and, upon seeing this, the spirit of the Lord knew to pass over the first-born in these homes, hence the English name of the holiday."*

I remember being fascinated by this story as a child, and I am almost as moved by it today.  Besides being the most important Jewish holiday and foundational in Christianity, this story is one of the most beloved in Islam, as well.

Just think about it: these people were slaves, and they just trusted that God would lead them from slavery. All they needed to do was slaughter a lamb and mark their homes.  While Passover is primarily observed as a celebration of freedom, for me it is also a story of complete trust and obedience.  I find Passover a reminder--a reminder that we can find freedom every day by trusting and obeying wherever God leads us. 

Remember, trust, obey...freedom!









*Wikipedia