Letting Things Sink In

Let Ideas Sink In

Perhaps the point of a football huddle isn’t just to set up the next strategy. What if the 20 minute period break during hockey isn’t just so the team can rest. Maybe taking a month or two off after college graduation is better than running straight into a job. Science tells us we retain, understand and think about information better by getting a good night’s sleep. I see rest as effective on a smaller scale too.

Having a brain storm session then forcing employees to get working on an idea right away isn’t as effective as letting them sit on it for a bit or congregate around the water cooler to chat about it outside the Thunderdome Of Ideas.

Too often we invest in the belief that being and staying busy is being productive, is creating value. Wrong.

A remarkable friend of mine schedules time to get away each week, not because he’s unhappy or that work is too much for him, but because he knows to give himself time for things to sink in.

When you react to a medication, that’s a bad thing. When you respond to treatment, that’s a plus. – Seth Godin

The best feedback on meetings comes the day after. When you ask for feedback right at the end of the meeting, you have a room full of people reacting, not responding. Yet, so many managers ask for feedback right away or schedule tasks one after the other, no break.

By regularly placing ourselves in an environment that isn’t pulling us this way and that, we can process situations on a deeper level of understanding, we can invest time to truly think why X happened instead of Y or maybe realize why X was a good thing to happen in the first place.

If you think all this is hard to believe, then you’re thinking right. Take however much time you need to mull it over.

 

Stay Positive & Wine Tastes Better After You Let It Breathe

Photo credit

The Four Elements

Something I wrote you might enjoy.

 

Stay Positive & Read On

 

Elements Of Life

Lessons Learned From The Four Elements

The elements

People die standing still. The earth moves underneath them and they don’t even notice it. The wind carries the wishes they’ve made on dandelion seeds, but they never thank the wind. Water pours on them from the sky or at least tries to, but umbrellas prevent them from feeling the element. People seek shelter, comfort, safety, and in doing so, lose themselves, their connection with others and especially their connection to nature. Empedocles’, a Greek pre-Socratic philosopher was the first to write that everything is composed of four material elements or “roots” as he called them at the time: water, fire, earth and air/wind.[1]

Telling a 10-year-old he’s a “water element” can really confuse a kid. For me, at the same time as my mother confused me she also sparked my interest. I’ve always loved water. Loved swimming in it, fishing in it, snorkeling in it. Once at the beach of our local lake a friend and I used a butterfly net to catch fish underwater. The mystery of what lies underwater and our success at catching so many fish in a non-traditional way made me really believe I was a water element. I followed up with my mom and asked why I wasn’t a different element. (At the time I knew water wasn’t the only one, but I didn’t know there were only four.) She pulled out an astrology book and described to me how we all have certain signs and elements attributed to us based on the time of year we were born. Fascinated, I asked her to read to me about the other elements.

Since that day I’ve paid attention to the elements and discovered although we may have a single element attributed to us, we can all relate to the four elements of water, fire, earth, and wind. The elements teach and describe our behaviors (some more than others). We learn from each other just as we learn from the elements themselves. The lessons we learn from one person are no better or no worse than the lessons we learn from someone else. The same goes for the elements. However, we must start somewhere. Since I’m a water element, why don’t we start there?

Water

I’ve never owned an umbrella. I never will. On the signs of rain ensuing, I don’t rush for cover, search for a newspaper to place over my head or “stay in because it’s raining.” I glide through it feeling as though I’m more rain than human. Every time it rains I feel overwhelmed with emotion. Feeling the first drop I am reassured in my way of living contently. I never rush my life just as the clouds never rush themselves to fill with water.

At the same time the rain patters on my head and I am reassured, I also feel as blue and gloomy as the sky. I see people with umbrellas missing the opportunity to feel what life is. I see the water pellets trying to tap them on their shoulder and say, “Child of mine, you can enjoy this moment. You have the choice.” People say they love rain, yet use an umbrella to walk under it. I don’t fully understand. What I do know is we have much to learn from the water element.

While humans love to categorize their life and put things in boxes, water can teach us to live outside the box, to expand our horizon, and to take on new shapes and forms. Bruce Lee said in an interview, “You must be shapeless, formless, like water. When you pour water in a cup, it becomes the cup. When you pour water in a bottle, it becomes the bottle. When you pour water in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Water can drip and it can crash. Become like water, my friend.”

With water, as with the other three elements, I’ve learned what makes something beautiful; it is movement. When a cup of water is tipped over by drunkenness or one’s own carelessness, spilling on a table or floor, it has your attention. When you walk near a creek, you search for swirls or bubbles arising from the water as if the creek is a page in an I Spy book and your searching for the moving item. When you find yourself at the side of a steady flowing river, you begin to connect with the water; noticing the power of it, your mind starts to open. And when you stand before a waterfall, your jaw drops like the water. The beauty of the element impacts you the more it moves.

Fire

The fire element, by nature, is always moving, too, though different from water. The movement explains why it attracts our attention so easily and holds it there. We are a lot like fire even though many view fire as dangerously powerful and not themselves. Like fire, we can take things to the extreme, eventually to be put out. Similarly, only when we stop moving are we extinguished. We even use fire as a metaphor for certain events in our lives. “His idea spread like wildfire,” implying the idea was loved by so many they couldn’t help but share it. Fire is a sharable element and, much like water, is a teacher of beauty and movement.

For a flame to remain, fuel of some sort must be provided. What nature may call dry dead plants or brush, we call passion. When something touches us and ignites us, we say we were moved by it or it put fire in our bellies. Fire represents accomplishments, celebrations, ceremonies, and growth. That is why fire walking is a rite of passage, an expression of individual courage and transformation.[2]

Anytime a forest fire is on the news, I’m reminded the “death and destruction” it causes brings new life. Plants don’t flee from the fire; they prosper from it. Fire represents regeneration as much as destruction. When life seems to beat us down as if we were trees in the middle of a forest fire, we can use the debris around us to grow again, stronger and with more energy than before. Some may dub this concept as “learning from one’s mistakes” or being given “a fresh start.”

Fire can be scary, but fire can be beautiful. Fire can be reckless, but fire can be controlled. If the element of water is simply a lesson, fire is the test. The test of self-control, of accuracy, of passion. If there isn’t fire in my belly, I know I’m not doing what I love. Fire speaks to me, echoing the words of Nora Ephron, “I hope you will find some way to break the rules and make a little trouble out there.” Fire reminds me to play, to dance, and to always be moving. Fire isn’t fire unless it’s waving. Ought we to wave back?

Earth

When I was a kid camping with my dad, uncle and brother, we would sing and dance around the campfire. It wasn’t until recently I realized we danced around the fire in a circular motion just as the earth rotates. The actions we take that so coherently connect to that of the earth are countless like pebbles in the sand.

The sand, a more specific part of the earth element points to our fascination with movement. When one takes the time to think about sand, they think about the processes it has gone through and where it has been to be where it’s at now. One picks a handful of sand up with bare hands to watch it fall through the crevices of their fingers. We notice earth when it moves and we’re mesmerized by it.

Earth’s weary words carry weight. Earth says life is both a gift and a burden. It is our elemental duty to take care of the planet at the same time as we receive the gift of living in it. Every movement of the earth is a response to us living on it. Rockslides occur when we’ve removed all the roots holding the structure together, weeds grow when we’ve cut space in the earth for them, soil starves our vegetation of essential nutrients when we have not cared for the land. Natural disasters are earth’s way of signaling to us when we are in the wrong in how we are interacting with it. In every aspect of the earth, care is necessary.

By default, the world truly is in our hands and we have a lot to learn from the way we interact with it. When one is referred to as being “grounded” or “down to earth,” they are implying one has ruminated on the events of their life, they distribute equal weight to all areas of their being and understand their own environmental seasons (not just Mother Nature’s). Earth reminds us with its movements what happens when we do not take care of ourselves like a mother would her newborn. Under certain pressures and disregard, earth cracks, it shakes, it hollers at our negligence. Only when we get down to the roots of our carelessness will we be in harmony with the earth element. All the while we move with earth we are taught an incredible lesson about networking and resilience.

Earth has conditioned us to carry on and keep moving forward after disaster. Earth connects us with each other for support and growth. Just like a set of roots, there’s not one straight connection from the plant to the earth; there are multiple connections often times twisting with the lives of those whom we never thought we could connect with. Through earthy elemental events, we are connected to the people of Haiti, to the miners in Turkey and to the climbers of Mt. Everest. We are connected to our neighbors, our friends, our family and each other, the writer and reader. Through these connections, we keep moving forward, we continue making progress, we pacefully increase the quality of life all around the globe.

Wind

Anytime I go driving, I love sticking my hand out the window, feeling the wind on my face, and seeing the underside of leaves. Not all trees reveal that side of themselves. The wind has shown me the importance of detail. The wind shifts without warning, but only those who are aware notice it. The wind reveals the underside of leaves, which represent the different shades of green you see as you pass tree after tree while on the road. Look next time you’re driving or biking down a path. Look at all the ways wind communicates with you. Shamans believe air to be the road conversations travel on.[3] I have to agree. It’s wind that carries our voice to one another: the voice of the songbird to us, the voice of the male toad to all the females, letting them know they are prepared to mate, the voice of our ancestors.

Wind reminds us to be steady and reflective; to go with the gusts and be silent with the stillness. The wind reminds us to not take anything personally and to be as objective as can be. Air carries a story we could all do better in life by listening to.

Have you ever noticed the air around someone was brighter and stronger than others around them; a sort of unique energy coming off them? That’s not the person. That’s the air speaking, letting you know they are attentive, reflective and trustworthy.

Air speaks more with its movement. It says to let things go at the same time it says keep moving forward. Air isn’t just energy for the windmills, it’s our energy. The wind reminds me of the Greek mythological story of Icarus, whose father built him wings from feathers and wax to escape Crete. Icarus’ father warned him not to fly too close to the sun, as it would melt the wax that held his wings together. It was less a warning than it was foreshadowing. Icarus plunged to his doom and through this story we are reminded to not fly too high in our own lives. What the wind presses upon me about this story is Icarus’ father also warned him not to fly too low because the dampness of the ocean would ruin his wings as well. We forget “laying low” and “flying under the radar” have their consequences too. Standing still has the same consequence as staying a safe distance from the sun. If wind stopped moving, wind wouldn’t exist.

Fortunately wind is always moving and always changing, something we can take note of too. Wind moves in ways that not one crevice of an object remains untouched by it. The beauty of it is the lightness of its touch, almost like the wind caresses the tree, the car, the people. Wind is thorough, but gentle, strong, but often silent and so full of wishes and dreams. How can we not feel alive with each breath we take?

The elements of life

From the four elements we learn happiness and beauty come from movement. It’s through the movements of each element we find ourselves interested in the world, inspired to live and reassured whether the way we are living is right or wrong.

The object of any teacher is to simplify something complicated so all may understand. Water, fire, earth and wind do just that. Through their movement we learn happiness comes from making progress at meaningful work. That it’s never about an end goal, but it’s the pleasure of moving toward one, expanding our experiences and truly taking the time to reflect on the love and attention of all around us.

Consider every unexpected event in nature, think of the streams that have popped up in areas you would never imagine or the geysers going off as you read this. You don’t have to see the movement to know it’s happening. The tree really did fall down in the forest when no one was around to hear it because the elements, by nature, that comprise and encircle the tree are always moving. There are trees falling, branches breaking, fires starting, streams flowing, earth growling and grass buzzing from the wind. When we take the lessons the elements offer to teach us, only then can we be fully, naturally alive.

 

 

Empedocles never used the term “element.” Research has shown Plato to be the first to label them as “elements.” http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/empedocles/[1]

[2] http://www.spiritweavers.com/firewalking.html

[3] http://www.llewellyn.com/journal/article/1863