Learn from nature’s patterns: torus


Learn from nature’s patterns: torus

A tree.

A human body.

An earthworm.

The Everything Bagel. (Anyone?)

Perhaps the universe itself.

What do these have in common? 

They’re all examples of the torus, a rotating, regenerative, self-perpetuating… doughnut.

A tree grows up from the ground; as it grows through seasons and cycles, it sheds leaves and disperses rain off its leaves, both of which nourish the roots and soil it needs to continue to grow.

A regenerative, self-nourishing cycle. Its own decay + shed serve its continued growth.

Human bodies, even earthworms do the same thing.

We ingest nutrients, they nourish and sustain us, then we release that sh*t back into the soil to fertilize what we need to grow to continue nourishing us—so the cycle continues. 

So beautifully symbolic. Such rich, earthy wisdom.

How can the pattern of the torus be useful? Ask yourself, in both a literal + metaphorical sense:

  • What nourishes you? Are you proactively growing that?

  • What do you need to shed in order to continue to grow?

  • What healthy, regenerative systems + cycles can you create that continue to supply the nutrients you need without depleting the source?

  • What systems and cycles do you see that are NOT self-sustaining?

As we continue to examine nature, nature feeds us back: with foods, beauty, wisdom. 

Regenerative cycles have an innate balance.

How can you find balance in relationship with yourself and the world?

Be the doughnut you wish to see in the world. 

Dare to meet life intimately


Dare to meet life intimately.

Life will only be as fulfilling as the depth with which we’re willing to meet it.

Surface-level connections will fulfill us… at the surface.

But our depths crave intimacy and sharing. Intimacy craves depth, not masks and walls.

What if we stopped holding life at arm’s length?

What if we entered into an intimate relationship with all that is?

What if we were willing to walk through life…

… holding everything with care and protection

… seeing fully

… being seen fully

… open

… being opened

… sharing

… embracing what is, not what we think should be

… releasing masks and performance

… touching and being touched

… loving wholeheartedly

… being moved by life?

The tragedy is that we’ve narrowed down the idea of “intimacy” to something that only happens behind closed doors. (Another tragedy is that sex does not necessarily include intimacy—sometimes, it’s anything but.)

But why not be intimate in every realm of our lives? 

Why not share deeply during lunchtime?

Why not be willing to be moved by a random conversation in line at the drugstore?

Why not hold with care what you see on your walk?

Intimacy is everywhere, if we have the courage to meet it: a type of quantum entanglement that thrills in knowing us—as we know ourselves—more and more fully.

An intimate life is a gift to humanity.

Why not live life as if it were a love letter to the planet?

The importance of showing up messy


The importance of showing up messy

I’m someone who, for the most part, has been able to show up well in my life. I’m pretty presentable. I know how to play well with others. I can get the job done. Not always perfectly, not always the best, but good enough.

One May day in 2020, I woke up and everything changed. I had a cerebrospinal fluid leak, which caused by brain to sag, which prompted a cascade of neurological and physical degeneration over the next 13 months. It was awful, and terrifying. It screwed up my life, and my nervous system. I was conscious, but my brain would fade in and out constantly. I cried and catastrophized frequently, methods my body and brain used to try to find regulation. I was a complete mess. I felt like I was losing my tether to my body and this planet.

Interestingly, I could still show up, albeit in a diminished way. I could still have conversations. I could still garden or make art, some days. I could smile and laugh, sometimes. I grieved with some friends who were also going through difficult challenges. I even navigated the sh!tshow that is health insurance. I was just a complete mess while I did it all.

And this was an important lesson for me:

I’ve learned that showing up messy doesn’t diminish my intelligence.

I’ve learned that showing up in grief doesn’t lessen my impact.

I’ve learned that showing up in tears doesn’t mean I can’t get things done.

I’ve learned that showing up even though I’m a mess doesn’t mean I care any less.

I’ve learned that showing up inconsistently is sometimes me giving 100%.

I’ve learned that showing up scared is actually pretty courageous.

If anything, these messy, inconvenient states remind me of why I’m showing up in the first place: to help and to care, and to normalize helping, caring, grieving, healing—in all realms of our lives. Even when we’re a mess.

This doesn’t mean I don’t need days of respite and solitude—I do.

This doesn’t mean I should push through everything, no matter what—it doesn’t.

This doesn’t mean it’s always a great idea to show up messy—it isn’t.

But there are a lot of stories floating around about how we should “never let them see you sweat,” that emotions are unprofessional, that grief is something to be dealt with… somewhere else, some other time, if at all: we don’t really make time or space for grief—or people experiencing it—in our culture. (And look into the origins of “professionalism” and ask yourself if just maybe we need to update the concept.)

At times, these ideas held me back from showing up, because I didn’t feel I measured up—that my mess, emotional state, ill health, inconsistency was a burden, one to be borne alone, by myself.

But really, these stories are just telling us to turn off our humanity.

To keep us alone, isolated, or shamed by our humanness when we most need to connect with others in it.

To keep the machine running.

I’m not at all interested in performing like a machine. I just can’t live down to that expectation.

I’m bringing human back—to all the places we’ve been told it’s too imperfect to work.

These might just be the spaces we need it most.

And in return…

We need to get comfortable with others showing up messy.

There is a lot going on on the planet. Too much.

If we’re going to move through these times with our humanity intact, we have to create compassionate space for falling apart—for ourselves, and for others.

This can’t be relegated solely to the realm of therapy, counseling, or self-development.

Grief, illness—they don’t care about our timelines. Q4 is irrelevant.

Grief and illness are the disruptive technologies meant to jolt us back into our humanness, and they will show up when and where they please. Maybe in the middle of a Tuesday.

And—if our systems can’t accommodate our humanness… remind me, what is the point of them?

We need leaders in every arena to learn and model how to hold grief, illness, and nervous system dysregulation humanely.

We all need to learn how to do this. There is a lot of grieving and caregiving to be done; this will be anything but convenient.

I truly believe that in some not-so-distant future, organizations will be evaluated by how well they are willing and able to embrace this.

We can’t turn a blind eye to the magnitude of change occurring. I’m not the only one who had a rough few years. Many went through worse than I did, or have been dealing with it for far longer.

It’s an invitation for us all to lean into our humanity, re-learn how to be fully human, and recalibrate our systems so they are in alignment with our full humanness—together.

This is the heart of humanful leadership: our capacity to hold one another in the full spectrum of our humanity—not just the sanitized parts.

It’s a mess. Hold on. Embrace it. And each other.

What it means to be humanful

Fill yourself up until you are overflowing with your own humanity. Be humanFUL.

When we are satiated by the fullness of our own humanity—when we are “humanful”—we then get the pleasure of pursuing not just what we lack, but what we truly desire.

Can you feel that tipping point where acting to fill a void tips over into sharing excitement and desire from a place of fullness? That’s our sweet spot.

But… how do we fill ourselves up?

By being fully human:

Filling our senses with healthy pleasures.

Spending our energy on what feeds us back: healthy food, water, movement, authentic connection, beauty, awe.

Healing.

Resting.

Playing.

Co-creating.

Fueling our passions, core values, and deep desires.

Fostering healthy relationships, ones in which we all get to be exactly who we are and who we aren’t.

Expanding our definition of “human” to include the environment that supports us, grows us, and nourishes us, to include all the other earthlings, flora and fauna alike, in our interconnected web of life.

Nourishing them back, so they can continue to nourish us.

Wondering.

Sharing.

Giving and receiving. 

To know ourselves and to honor ourselves is to fill ourselves up.

When you are full of yourself in the healthiest way possible, then please—GIVE the gift of yourself.

You—yes, you—are the gift you are meant to give.

Be an earthling. Love earth. Act accordingly.

In a universe where everything is interdependent, we are made human by our connection to all that is.

We’re not human perched on top of all that is. We did not evolve in some hermetically sealed capsule.

We evolved WITH all the other earthlings—saltwater, cicadas, orchids, worms, hawks, gazillions of bugs, maples, giraffes, amethyst, groundhogs, fire, dust, dew, whale sharks, waterfalls.

All of it.

We take in tiny remnants of it all every single time we breathe, eat, see, hear, touch.

The word “human” has its roots in the Latin “humus,” which means earth. We are of the earth.

When the earth changes, we change. When we change, the earth changes. We all have our place, and when one thing changes, all things do.

The only way to truly be happy and healthy is to love and respect ourselves, others, and everything.

If we are made human by all that is, we must love earth and all the other beings who share this planet (and universe, and multiverse, and…) in order to be fully human. Humanful.

I’ve started using the word “humanful,” because to me, it feels like filling ourselves up with our own humanity—in the largest sense of our human earthlingness, connected in a reciprocal relationship to all that is—not the small, arbitrarily separate sense.

When we are full to overflowing with ourselves—not in some unhealthy, ego-based narcissism, but in knowing and feeding our own generative, divine fire because it is also earth’s fire—it’s so much easier to find balance, generativity, and generosity, and spill that over into loving everything else.

It’s so much easier to find our purpose.

I think the purpose of humans is to be fully healthy, happy humans, because I happen to think that that works out well for everything else.

To me, this is how we define our humanity: by remembering and loving our true nature and our place here as earthlings—entangled with everyone and everything else.

Humanful.

How to practice partnership


How to practice partnership

The first step to practicing partnership is realizing that you are already in partnership—with everyone and everything.

Everything in the universe is interdependent.

You are in a partnership with yourself: your body, your mind, your spirit.

You are in a partnership with other humans, and with their bodies, minds, and spirits.

You are in partnership with communities, institutions, ecosystems.

You are in partnership with the planet.

We all are. What would it look like if we all acted like good, conscious partners to elevate and nourish each other and the planet, rather than individuals jockeying for rank and position perched on top of a randomly spinning sphere?

Sometimes, we forget that every possible thing in the entire multiverse is connected.

That WE are connected to everything.

That every act and thought has ripple effects in the immediate and over billions of years. (Or, that perhaps there is no time and it’s all just happening NOW.) That every possibility is right here, right now. 

That every action has a reciprocal reaction.

What we do for ourselves, we do for others. What we do for others, we do for ourselves. I think the Golden Rule must have danced with the laws of thermodynamics.

We can’t know all the arcs of every story we’re connected to.

But we can make sure that the fundamental pattern of reciprocity is the basis of our relationships: with ourselves, our loved ones, our communities, our systems, our planet.

This isn’t just stuff for the meditation mat, this is our blueprint for taking action in alignment with all that is.

We are living in a sorely divided world; forgetting that we are all connected, and fearing that connection, are taking a massive toll.

What if connection felt amazing, not unsafe?

What if sharing what we love wasn’t used as a way to manipulate us, but as a way to see where we’re the same, AND where we’re different—and celebrating all of those perspectives?

What if re/membering connection helps us realize that we are IN THIS with every other thing, and that we better take care of ourselves and our world, because it’s all US?

If this sounds like a lot, start with yourself. Love yourself. Hold yourself accountable to what you love. Hold yourself accountable for your nincompoopery.

Hold humanity accountable to its humanness—to its great capacity to love, and to eff things up—and to the idea that maybe if we loved outrageously all the freakin’ time instead of rationing it, there’d be less nincompoopery to deal with.

And if you’re ready for next-level partnership?

Invite others to elevate their game along with you.

Steel sharpens steel.

Vibrant, joyful, creative humans love playing with other vibrant, joyful, creative humans.

It’s how we evolve past our own edges and see new possibilities.

How we potentiate ourselves and each other.

How we feel the fullness of our humanity.

How we create a new paradigm by embodying the power of being fully human WITH others, FOR others.

Daring to be fully human with others—and with the planet, not just on it—is how we evolve.

If you’re a visionary who wants to co-create a more beautiful world, not leave it behind—let’s elevate.