Reflection Series: What To Keep and What To Let Go Of

In my Leadership and Personal Development (LPD) class we are assigned weekly reflections. Normally, I respond only to our professor Mary Kay. In the sake of transparency and to provide some personal insights, I’ve decided to share one of those reflections with you.

Here I am sitting in a beautiful condo in downtown Seattle. I look out of the window to my left and see the Seattle Space Needle. I look behind me, and I see the beautiful waters of the Puget Sound. Several of my goals have come to fruition. I’m in a great graduate program. I’m in a beautiful city. And I’m surrounded by wonderful people. I should be feeling great. And for the most part, I do. However, at the same time, I just can’t release this feeling of guilt—this feeling that I don’t deserve the success I’ve achieved up to this point—the feeling that I am sitting on this couch because of pure, undeserved luck.  That’s what I need to let go of.

For the past several weeks, I’ve been trying to fight this feeling. I think, finally, I may be starting to win that fight. I had a conversation with a couple of friends about it and, through that conversation I learned three things. 

1. It’s an obligation to take full advantage of the opportunities that are presented. To not take advantage of those opportunities would be a waste.
2. There are systems and institutions in place that play a major role, many of which I cannot be held responsible for (e.g., family, social, financial, educational, access, etc.)
3. The best place for me to make a difference in those systems is a position of success.

Success with compassion is what they explained to me. It’s great to care, but we can’t let the caring become a debilitating factor in our quest to promote positive, social change.

I want to keep my drive. And I want to keep those positive people in my life. I want to keep making progress.

What would I like to create? I’d like to be part of a community that helps ensure that everybody has the opportunity to dream.

"Peace" - A Short Story

Last week I attended orientation for Bainbridge Graduate Institute as a member of Cohort 10 (C10). On the third day, we were asked to have a “silent morning” and reflect on why we have chosen this path. I found a large rock on the shore of Channel Rock and sat there. The following short story is what came to mind as I reflected and meditated:

My view off the coast of Channel Rock

I didn’t end up where I thought I would. But when I arrived, I knew this was where I needed to be. It wasn’t the view, or the sounds, or the sun that brought me here. In fact, it was slightly cold, slightly murky, and slightly dark. No, it wasn’t those things, but rather it was the feeling that this is where I belonged, here, in this moment—the feeling of peace.

Not long after I arrived did I become acutely aware of the living and non-living beings who welcomed me into their company. “Strangers we are not,” they told me. “For we have been here all along, waiting for your arrival. Welcome.”

Closing my eyes, my consciousness transcended from the acknowledgement of those around me to the connections we share. “We’re not here for you,” they explained. “And you’re not here for us. We’re just here…existing…for each other. For without me there is no you, and without you there is no me. We all come together, and through appreciation, we combine to make this world beautiful. Remember that, as you pursue all of your endeavors. We may appear to be stationary, but we arrived here too, just as you did. We will continue to exist, and the things we do, however inconsequential they may seem, will affect you; just as the things you do, however inconsequential as they may seem, will affect us. Keep that close to your heart, mind, and soul thus we may continue to not only co-exist, but co-appreciate. And please, remember to come visit, for we love you more than you could ever know. If not us, our descendants will be here to welcome back you and yours. Peace.”

So I sat and I thought…and sat…and thought…

The word slight, which I used earlier, suddenly became more significant in my thoughts. Earlier I used slight to describe what I was sensing. Now I realize that it being slightly all of those things helped me reach a higher plane of consciousness. The temperature was just cold enough for me to breathe more shallowly. The wind blew just hard enough for me to feel it. The water flowed just loud enough for me to hear it. The small rocks shifted under my feet just enough to make me feel unsure. The sun was just high enough for me to notice the darkness. They all came together for me to take notice of everything around me. They came together to say, “Hey, we’re here,” and nothing more… “We’re here.”

I guess the word I was looking for was gentle. No, better yet…peace.