The Slippery Assent
It was a sunny day, the snow cover was light, and taking a hike seemed like a great idea. After all, I had my waterproof trail shoes with ample tread. I got off to an easy start, but as the trail climbed, I realized that there were significant portions where it was quite icy under the snow. My shoe’s tread wasn’t so ample after all. Too often my step up became a net downward slide. About the time the uncertain steps were outnumbering the certain, and visions of a cracked skull danced in my mind, a group of young men went rambling by me in full stride with trekking poles and crampons. (Think of crampons as spiky tire chains for your shoes.) After they passed, I heard one of them lean over to another and say something about “idiots without proper gear.” I imagined smug looks on their faces. They were right, of course: given my current resources, that slippery ascent was not feasible. And since going back down an icy path can be even more treacherous, I’ll leave it to you to imagine my pathetic baby-stepping retreat.
Over the past several weeks as I have blogged about the pandemic, my hope that it will serve as an opportunity for change has been a central theme. Recapping a few thoughts from previous blogs:
From Using social distancing as an invitation:
“Perhaps there’s an invitation in the pandemic for us to remember that we’re all human beings and have much more in common than that which divides us.”
From I just can’t take as much any more:
“Somewhat paradoxically, the pandemic offers us an opportunity to reset. Most of us are social distancing by ourselves or with a very few people, and relying on virtual means of maintaining broader connections. It’s a perfect laboratory for us to work on being more attentive to each other, more kind to each other. But to do that requires us to be more attentive and kind to ourselves as well.”
“If we can use this time to better love and care for each other while quarantined, then maybe, just maybe, we’ll be able to carry that forward into our way of being with others post-quarantine. And maybe, just maybe, the ground-level change will be enough to soften our culture as a whole, including even our politics and media.”
From The Great Grief:
“It would be wonderful if our leaders would move [toward change] — but we don’t have to wait for them. We won’t get from our largest systems what we aren’t willing to do in our own neighborhoods. Let’s use this opportunity to individually grieve our own previous self-serving and uncaring ways, and set out in a new way to understand and enjoy the uniqueness of every person we encounter each day, to see and help those who are unnoticed and under-resourced around us, to voice and address the concerns of the marginalized, and to invite one another to stay that course — even when it costs us something.”
Perhaps if you read these words previously, or perhaps even now as you read them, you find yourself thinking something like, “Yep. I agree with that. That’s really good.”
I have similarly found myself firmly nodding in agreement with artists and influencers who have offered inspirational calls to the good during appearances in online concerts, telethons and the like in recent months. It can feel very motivational.
And yet, it has been my experience that such a “Yep” can be a slippery assent. When I find myself captured by inspirational words, I somehow convince myself that my agreement denotes a change in me when in actuality, it doesn’t. Perhaps it’s a vestige of years of “learning” through lectures and reading. Mental assent and the ability to restate something is too often unaccompanied by actual behavioral change.
Inspiration does have its place. I like to say that it moves an idea from my head to my heart. And that’s a very important start. I’ll say it again that I’m grateful for all those who are trying to inspire us during these trying times.
But what is really needed is to move that idea from my heart to the rest of my body — my eyes and ears and hands and feet. If it doesn’t change my behavior, then I haven’t changed. And if the change isn’t lasting, then it won’t have much impact on me or on the world around me.
This is precisely why, at Living FORward, we focus our energies on methodologies that are designed to move us past inspiration and into transformation. Typically, our courses run for eight weeks, because that’s roughly the minimum amount of time it takes to actuate lasting change.
We focus on life “rhythms” — repeating behaviors that when practiced can become an ongoing, natural part of who we are. We do it in Zoom groups of 3-5 people, because the shared storytelling around the rhythms enlivens the process, creates camaraderie, and encourages us to keep going. (We were using Zoom for these courses even before the pandemic. It works great.)
We offer our courses for free, because we know that when they are received as a gift, it increases the likelihood of lasting change that will, in fact, make a difference in our relationships and inspire others to join in.
We are planning to launch new sections of our “Stepping In to the Story” course in the coming weeks.
This is your invitation to give an assent the traction it needs to become an ascent.
To sign up or ask questions, you can email us HERE.