My therapist once introduced me to the Wheel of Emotions. I think it will also serve as an intelligent starting point for any design project.
The wound, the gift, the light. Part one.
Rumi said “The wound is where the light enters”. I’ve heard it also said the wound is where the light comes from. Perhaps this has something to do with why we want to share our pain. Why are our life stories feel important, and has something to do with what we are actually doing when we open-up about the people, places and things that have shaped us. Could it be that these wounds, these secrets, these moment of shame, brokenness and disappointment become our precious pearls, our gifts to those around us? What if they are pointing to the deep and meaningful connections, I believe, we all crave? What if I’m not the only one who carries the painful lessons only mistakes can teach. Moments when I hurt or / and was hurt by someone. What if I’m not the only one who says “I wish that would have been different, I wish I had handled it better. I wish I’d listened to that small voice in my gut”. What if these internal dialogues are keys to healthy, meaningful relationships. Everyone says have no regrets, but the fact is we regret things. To feel and extend grace toward my past … Read more…
Take the weather from your heart
It’s cold outside. Rain is falling. It smells fresh but weighs heavy on the window glass. The world is spinning and I have hunch I’m not the only one feeling like this whole human operation is out of control. Party lines are growing thicker and despair is setting in. All eyes I can see are nervously shifting- scanning the skyline, holding their breath, hoping praying, murmuring something about day light. Whispers ruffle through human souls “I remember there is a sun, there is light and it will come again”. Limp cold, heavy hands slowly make their way from gripping my chest across a chasm of unknown air and land on the shoulder of my fellow man. They land. I can feel a pulse. It’s slow, it’s so slow, it’s barley there. But it’s there. That fellow man is a live. He is damp with fear and anxiety. His eyes are shifting but soon they land on mine. I don’t know his language. But in this moment, it doesn’t matter. The thick lines of religion, sexual orientation, race, gender, political views, status or income fade to black. In this moment, he is human. I am human. We are flesh and blood. We meet in the land of our humanity. We are spirt- we are soul, we are thought, we are blood, we are dust and we are connected by the fibers that give us form and being. He is my brother; he is my friend. And we are here standing in the cold rain under and enormous billowing cloud of despair. But the warmth of touch and the power of sight begin to revive us. Without the right words, or any words, our souls do the talking. “I see you, therefor I hear you. I hear you therefor I love you. I love you therefor I carry you. You are not different from me. Your pains are my pains. Your fears are my fears, and while I can’t tell you how this story will end- I can tell you I will be right here, by your side”. And in this moment of raw fundamental acceptance the breath of heaven blows between us. Hope finds soil and begins to take root.Fear subsides – all I feel is deep love. Every fiber of my being wants to pull him in and hold him. Comfort him, whisper over and over. We are ok. WE are ok…… We are ok. This is not the time for lines that divide us. It is time for soil that unites us, nourishes us, and creates space for hope and light amid a treacherous rain storm. Viva La Resistance.