Yesterday my friend and I were on a multi-event outing. These outings are usually comprised of a number of events or activities; yesterday a visit to special exhibit at the National Gallery, dinner, a walk, gelato, and a concert on the Mall. More than that, they are an opportunity to talk and explore thoughts.
At one point in the conversation, we were talking about the winning couple in this week's finals on Dancing with the Stars (DWTS). She is not a dancer, and I am, so I attempted to explain what I thought allowed the couple to win. The professional and leader is a long-time DWTS professional. He is an extraordinary dancer, who has made it to the finals or semi-finals several times over the years, but just never quite put together the championship. I felt that what had cost him in the past was his arrogance: the dance had always about him in the past. He was truly obnoxious to everyone--the judges, the audience, and not least, whoever his current partner was.
This time, I said, it seemed to me that he surrendered to the partnership. Rather than being all about him this time, the goal had been what they created together. AND, what they created together was truly remarkable. Granted, he had an extraordinary partner, but I still don't think it would have happened if he hadn't allowed the partnership be the most important.
Today I meditated on opening my heart. I do so frequently, but I seem to do so more often in the spring. This year spring has come late, and this has been one of our first really springy weekends. I long to have someone to share it with, and yet as I pondered on opening my heart today, I questioned whether I even know how. Then it occurred to me that being in partnership with someone was about surrendering to the partnership.
I recalled a country song popular more than a decade ago in which the female vocalist sings that she doesn't know why they call it "falling" in love because she experiences it more like rockets in the sky. Hmmm! Then I felt myself in a meditative free fall. What would it be like to jump off a cliff and be in a free fall, and then suddenly I felt like I was shooting high in the sky. I had almost forgotten that sensation. Yet, I think that is what it is like to surrender to a partnership. Giving myself to something that is greater.
My problem in the past has been that I have given up myself and then found myself struggling to maintain who I am. I've felt like, if I let go of who I thought I was when I was alone, it would be stolen by the other. Rather, I think when it works in love, after the free fall of letting go to the limitations of my ego comes the rockets. Magic is created much as America watched magic on their television screens in the DWTS final this week. Only by letting go of the ego are we able to ascend to something much greater.
.
Romantic partnerships aren't the only places that we must surrender to partnership can make magic happen. I think of a work team on which I serve now, which is full of egos, struggling to dominate. A lot of talent on that team would create an awesome team if we would all decide the partnership was more important than our individual egos, but sadly, I don't see it happening. Another work team that I am on has done the surrender to the partnership. We truly are creating wonderful work with no one's name on it: that work reflects the building of partnership.
Today, as I reflected on surrendering to partnership, I couldn't help but think about the partnership I could have with God, if, as the trite expression goes, I would just let go and let God. The fallacy in that expression is that it implies either God or me are driving; I don't think that is how partnership with God works. Our combined intention to the partnership is what allows magic. I know I have been there, often for long periods--most often when I write. Like my partnerships of love with real human partners that have contracted into my ego, so has my partnership of love with God. I start trying to figure out what I need to do and forget to just listen.
Can I remember how to allow myself to be in free fall, not knowing what is next or what the outcome will be? Could I allow myself to just know that the partnership is what is really important? What would it take for me to know that what is less important than why because the why is fostering love on earth? Why wouldn't I want to surrender myself to that?
I am a dancer who has often written about the relationship with God being like a good dance partnership. God leads, and we follow. But, the follower has to know his/her part. The part I've left out is to surrender to the partnership while doing so.
Showing posts with label partnership. Show all posts
Showing posts with label partnership. Show all posts
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Monday, April 21, 2014
Dance as a Metaphor
I was having lunch recently with someone, who shares my love for dancing. We do different kinds of dance, but each of us enjoy our respective sports. Our conversation had covered many topics but most were spiritual in nature. As we talked about dance, I said to her, "I think that dance is a metaphor for our relationship with God." She was eager to hear more.
To start with, we need to be in agreement with God about what we are creating. When we share the intention to fulfill the purpose for us being in human form with God, it is like dancing with a great dance partner with whom we want to cocreate a wonderful dance experience.
Of course, knowing our respective parts is important. I am sure that God knows His part, just as I trust that most of the better leaders with whom I dance know their parts. But as a follower, I must know how to execute the figures in which I am led. If he leads something I don't know, then I am probably not going to do very well. I have put in lots of hours learning and practicing many figures so that I can respond appropriately to whatever is led.
The same is true with my relationship with God. I've been given certain gifts and talents, and it is my responsibility to develop and practice them so when I get a lead to use them, I have the skill to follow. I think that I have a gift for writing, which I've honed since grade school. I was a high school journalist and studied writing in college. Every job that I've had has required me to do some kind of writing, allowing me more practice. In a meditation in 1993, when I was asked to write a book, I had the developed the talent to execute "the figure that God led."
Similarly, I began speaking before large groups of people, up to 350 at a time, when I was in junior high school because young people at my church were expected to speak to the congregation from time to time. Over the years, I had many opportunities to speak and took them. When Leading from the Heart came out, and I was solicited for keynote addresses, I had developed my talents, so that I could follow the lead.
While it is important for me to know my part, I have periodically had the opportunity to dance with a leader who is so excellent, that he can lead me through a figure I've never done. If I maintain good technique, the leader's skill will carry me. I've had those kind of experiences in my dance with God as well, when I've encountered a situation new to me, but I've been able to flow through it, as long as I kept listening intently.
As important to note, however, is what I shouldn't do in my dance with God. To put it simply, "Don't resist!" There are two ways that I can resist in dance, and I think both apply to my relationship with God as well. On occasion, for some reason I feel like doing a particular step. Often, doing so is the result of a habit: people that I have danced with a lot do a particular sequence of figures, and I don't pay attention to where my leader is going. Off I go in other direction. It isn't pretty.
When I am dancing, I have to remember who is leading and who is following. If I second guess or anticipate my partner, again I go off in another direction. Once again, it isn't pretty.
I think that we often get so caught up in habitual living that we forget to really listen to what God is saying right now. We just autopilot along and miss the lead. Similarly, if we try to figure out where God is going on, and we try to take over the controls, I can almost promise it is not going to be a good experience. The partnership has to be a 1:1 relationship. God leads; we follow. One step at a time. Then God leads again; we follow again.
Years before I moved to Washington, God had been telling me to move here. I thought I'd do it my way and find a job here first. That wasn't what I was supposed to do. I was not only not successful finding a job before I finally moved, but God seemed to need to strip me of most everything I had in North Carolina to get me to move. Finally, and fortunately, I got it.
Like my advice to the homeless man in yesterday's blog, we just have to listen and follow. When we do, we can do a beautiful dance with God.
To start with, we need to be in agreement with God about what we are creating. When we share the intention to fulfill the purpose for us being in human form with God, it is like dancing with a great dance partner with whom we want to cocreate a wonderful dance experience.
Of course, knowing our respective parts is important. I am sure that God knows His part, just as I trust that most of the better leaders with whom I dance know their parts. But as a follower, I must know how to execute the figures in which I am led. If he leads something I don't know, then I am probably not going to do very well. I have put in lots of hours learning and practicing many figures so that I can respond appropriately to whatever is led.
The same is true with my relationship with God. I've been given certain gifts and talents, and it is my responsibility to develop and practice them so when I get a lead to use them, I have the skill to follow. I think that I have a gift for writing, which I've honed since grade school. I was a high school journalist and studied writing in college. Every job that I've had has required me to do some kind of writing, allowing me more practice. In a meditation in 1993, when I was asked to write a book, I had the developed the talent to execute "the figure that God led."
Similarly, I began speaking before large groups of people, up to 350 at a time, when I was in junior high school because young people at my church were expected to speak to the congregation from time to time. Over the years, I had many opportunities to speak and took them. When Leading from the Heart came out, and I was solicited for keynote addresses, I had developed my talents, so that I could follow the lead.
While it is important for me to know my part, I have periodically had the opportunity to dance with a leader who is so excellent, that he can lead me through a figure I've never done. If I maintain good technique, the leader's skill will carry me. I've had those kind of experiences in my dance with God as well, when I've encountered a situation new to me, but I've been able to flow through it, as long as I kept listening intently.
As important to note, however, is what I shouldn't do in my dance with God. To put it simply, "Don't resist!" There are two ways that I can resist in dance, and I think both apply to my relationship with God as well. On occasion, for some reason I feel like doing a particular step. Often, doing so is the result of a habit: people that I have danced with a lot do a particular sequence of figures, and I don't pay attention to where my leader is going. Off I go in other direction. It isn't pretty.
When I am dancing, I have to remember who is leading and who is following. If I second guess or anticipate my partner, again I go off in another direction. Once again, it isn't pretty.
I think that we often get so caught up in habitual living that we forget to really listen to what God is saying right now. We just autopilot along and miss the lead. Similarly, if we try to figure out where God is going on, and we try to take over the controls, I can almost promise it is not going to be a good experience. The partnership has to be a 1:1 relationship. God leads; we follow. One step at a time. Then God leads again; we follow again.
Years before I moved to Washington, God had been telling me to move here. I thought I'd do it my way and find a job here first. That wasn't what I was supposed to do. I was not only not successful finding a job before I finally moved, but God seemed to need to strip me of most everything I had in North Carolina to get me to move. Finally, and fortunately, I got it.
Like my advice to the homeless man in yesterday's blog, we just have to listen and follow. When we do, we can do a beautiful dance with God.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)