Going Off Trail
We invest a lot of time and money developing skills to stay relevant and competitive in the work we do – learning new technologies, broadening our knowledge base, and staying connected in an increasingly virtual world.
As an executive coach and consultant, I’ve facilitated countless programs on leadership, facilitation, conflict resolution, learning styles, and creativity in many forms. I’ve learned from some of the best in the business. All of these experiences have deepened my technical skill base and been of great value to my practice.
Yet some of my most useful learning has come when I went “off trail.” Off trail are what I call the subjects and fields that capture our interest and attention that may not make sense. Logically, they seem like a distraction, a crazy idea, a questionable use of time and money without a clear, practical link to our business or goals. Yet we are inexplicably attracted to them as if drawn by a tractor beam.
Building the case for the off trail of wellness programs is a no brainer. They have a direct effect on our health without which we can’t be of service in the way we want to be. It’s more of a stretch to justify the time and expense of artistic curiosity, contemplative time, and the exploration of our inner landscape.
It is the investment in my inner life that has provided the greatest return.
Improv classes taught me how to be more spontaneous and present when facilitating groups. Gardening taught me about interdependence and the cyclical nature of change. Collage provided endless opportunities to notice themes and patterns. Painting was the portal into deeply rooted feelings of which I wasn’t yet aware. Building birdhouses for a year gave me a kinesthetic experience of the creative process and led to writing a blog which lead to connecting with people I might not have otherwise known.
Meditation continues to teach me to trust. Stillness is where I go for counsel. Regardless of whether I’m actually successful at meditating or not – when I’m still and quiet, the guidance I am seeking appears, if I’m patient and don’t judge what comes. The title of a program, the topic for a blog, or the answer to a design problem I’ve been wrestling with, often come to me in stillness. It’s where new connections between ideas come together. It even works to find things I’ve misplaced. Instead of racing around looking for my keys, I stand quietly and ask them to come to me. More often than not the item (and its location) appears in my mind.
The investment in our inner life is immeasurable.
What’s the Return on Investment in developing our inner life?
Trust in our own wisdom
Values based decisions
Courageous action
New and fresh ideas
Increased creativity
Expanded awareness
Greater contentment
So…what if business planning began with stillness? What if your strategic plan is a collage? What if the vision for your life were written as a haiku? What if you quietly sat for a minute before every meeting or challenging exchange?
How would your life and interactions be different?