Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Hope, Faith, Love




“Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope. Nothing true or beautiful makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we are saved by love.”

- Reinhold Niebuhr -

I am wrestling with the idea of creation. I am wrestling with the truth that any act of creation requires far more than the actual doing of the thing; far more than a "Eureka!" moment that galvanizes action. I am wrestling with the fact that creation, as a choice, requires letting go of what I think it should be to create the space for what it may become.

If I choose to be among the creators, I choose to start something that cannot be finished; something that may not be understood; something that will demand an unmatched level of connection to and relationship with others. I choose to walk a new path rather than one well-worn by the cavalry of what's been done. 

Niebuhr provides us with the framework against which to apply our creative aspirations. I can almost hear him urging us to let go of completion, sense-making and the trap of "I must do it myself or it doesn't really count." He is urging us to trust that beginning is enough. If it is of deepest meaning to us, begin it. And, once begun, follow where it leads, nurture it to strength and call on the help of all who will help it grow.

Is it worth doing? Is it true and beautiful? Is it possible only in relationship with others?

Yes? 

Then, with hope, faith and love in your heart, begin it.


© 2010 David Berry

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Pursuing Greatness

I am wondering if it is a cruel joke of the universe that at exactly the time I have discovered a reservoir of clarity, energy and purpose in my professional life - at the time I have found my vocation - that there should exist an exactly proportionate array of preexisting realities with equal rights to my attention, focus and care.

In fairness, these "preexisting realities," less coldly described as marriage, children, family, faith, friends and community, laid claim to my attentiveness long ago. Perhaps this "vocation" is the impostor, the one whose intentions must be questioned as it relates to integration and harmony. As it relates to keeping the peace.

The question is this: how do I incorporate my vocation into the structures of my life - relationships and commitments - in a way that preserves, extends and expands all? Yes, I am asking, how do I have it all?

I don't want to be a good dad and a great speaker. I'm not interested in being a great husband and a good leader. I don't want validation from my professional community and a dearth of real friends. I want the both/and. I want greatness.

And the difference between good and great is very, very small. One choice in one moment at a time. It is a constancy of awareness; a level of attentiveness that is unsurpassed. And it is a generosity and kindness with myself. A reminder to be about the journey and not the destination. To keep negotiating balance and integration. To stay in conversation with my life.

Yes, to stay in conversation with my life.


© 2010 David Berry

Monday, September 20, 2010

The Other Side of Silence

"That element of tragedy which lies in the very fact of its frequency has not yet wrought itself into the coarse emotion of mankind, and perhaps our frames could hardly bear much of it. If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heartbeat, and we should die of that roar which lives on the other side of silence. As it is, the quickest of us walk around well wadded with stupidity."

GEORGE ELIOT - Middlemarch

I am overwhelmed by this quote. It appears in the front pages of a biography of the author, Richard Yates. If you've read Revolutionary Road or anything else by him you know him to be a master of exploring "the other side of silence." His work conveys the deep pain of the unnoticed and the unexpressed.

I am overwhelmed by Eliot's quote and drawn to it in the same way I was overwhelmed by and drawn to David Foster Wallace's commencement speech at Kenyon College in 2005 (read it here: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122178211966454607.html).

In the same way I was overwhelmed by and drawn to Oprah Winfrey's declared purpose; that her show existed to help people be "seen, heard and understood."

So much unmet need. So much fear of loss. So much pain. All of it swirling around us; in us. All of it waiting to be noticed and tended to. I am overwhelmed and drawn to these words because they represent an immovable, impossible standard which, in my imperfection I am failing, utterly failing, to meet.

It is beyond humbling to be reminded that I am walking around "well wadded with stupidity." That I choose to display a version of ignorance that matches what my ego can tolerate at that moment. I have so much to do, say, be and become. Please don't derail me with your needs, wants and desires. Please don't ask me to be about you, for you, for even five minutes, unless you want my resentment and frustration.

Please don't act out a script which I have not written and cast for this occasion. Just play your part. I will play mine.

Places, everyone.


© 2010 David Berry

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

See. Hear. Understand.

I don't watch Oprah. I'm not saying I wouldn't or would rather not, it's just that I'm at work on most weekday afternoons. That said, this Oprah has something special going on and now that's she's in the last year of her show I'm starting to pay attention. What caught my ear the other day was a commercial promoting her final season in which she talked about the moment when she realized what her show was really all about; the moment she understood at a visceral level why she was doing what she was doing...why her work mattered.

She said that what she had come to learn is that all people (ALL PEOPLE) want three things:

1. To be seen.
2. To be heard.
3. To be understood.

And that her show existed to help the unseen be seen, the unheard be heard and the misunderstood to be understood. Simple. Powerful. Obvious. 

Oprah's work facilitates the inspiration of millions by sharing the stories of other human beings who are trying to overcome, trying to survive, trying to move forward. And those stories compel us to act. Or do they?

What I wonder is if we have become so anesthetized by the proliferation of Oprah-style media that these "real" stories have become a substitute for our own experience. A way to spend a few minutes feeling virtually-authentic emotions before re-engaging the real challenges - the real messy challenges - of our own lives. It seems to me that a lot of empathy is spent on people we will never meet when the neighbor, family member, and teacher at our kid's school goes unseen, unheard and misunderstood.

I'd like to believe that Oprah would be happy with a lot less viewers and a lot more people experiencing real emotion and real inspiration in the face-to-face interactions of everyday life. I'd like to believe that.

© 2010 David Berry

Monday, September 13, 2010

Sweet Darkness

I am tired tonight. Tired. My head is heavy...pulsing with the days events...things accomplished, things left undone. Intensity at work. Intensity at home. Always on. Going, going, going.

These are the days I know to expect. Small kids at home. Big opportunities at work. Limits are pushed. Patience is tested. Life is full. And there's not much left for the "want to" when it is all spent on the "have to."

Celebrated fifteen years of marriage this week. If not for that; if not for her: no way.

And so, in the darkness of this night, I am thankful. And I will rest in anticipation of a new day.

Sweet Darkness
by David Whyte

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

You must learn one thing.
The world was meant to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it take darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness

to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.


© 2010 David Berry

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Women Living Fully

Molly Davis, Kristine Van Raden

"I could not, at any age, be content to take my place by the fireside and simply look on. Life was meant to be lived. Curiosity must be kept alive. One must never, for whatever reason, turn his back on life."

- Eleanor Roosevelt -

Today, I am honored to dedicate this space to the work of a friend and her colleague. Molly Davis and Kristine Van Raden have been invited to lead the opening session of the upcoming conference, Women Living Fully. The goal of the conference is to "offer women the opportunity to reconnect with that which is most important to them and find new ways to live that are reflective of who they are and what they value."

To kick off this 3-day conference, Molly and Kristine will be facilitating conversations on Courage, Contentment and Grace and it is my pure pleasure to bring this opportunity to as many people as I can.

The more I got to thinking about "Women Living Fully" I began to consider all of the women who have "lived fully" in contributing to my life; women who have sacrificed, labored, loved, expressed, engaged, befriended, listened, laughed and patiently tolerated so that I might be something more; someone better. In appreciation and gratitude, I honor some of them here. It is a privilege to say thank you and to assure them of my commitment to "living fully" for them, however they may need me.

Theresa, my wife - beautiful believer, quiet strength
Avery, my daughter - gorgeous, creative, powerful
Davis, my daughter - lovely, curious, wicked smart
Nancy, my mom - ageless, the spirit of youth
Marcia, my sister - energy, courage, laughter
Kristina, my sister - fiercely loyal friend and mother
Jennifer, my sister - magnetic, joyful
Sheila, my counselor - present, always
Lia, my friend - always faithful
Stephanie, my friend - supremely competent, super silly
Lisa, my friend and colleague - deeply caring listener
Laura, my friend and colleague - really funny, really smart
Marlene, my friend and colleague - wisdom, kindness, freely given
Marcie, my friend and colleague - passionate, soulful
Amber, my friend and colleague - courageous, all-in
Lisa, my friend - ambitious, generous

© 2010 David Berry

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Labor Day

"Work isn't to make money. You work to justify life"
~ Marc Chagall ~

When I was 17 years old I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I just didn't know that it was possible to apply what came naturally to me to a formal educational and professional pursuit. And so began a 14 year journey to find what it was I was supposed to do with my life. When I finally landed on my vocation I was shocked to find that I had known the answer so many years before; that the answer had always been in me, just waiting to be unlocked and reintroduced to the world in a new and more profound way.

Of course, had I not wandered in the desert, searching in vain for the perfect fit; had I not been tested and molded by so many "roads to nowhere" I never would have found the road to somewhere. It was because of the work that was not my work that I was able to find the work that is.

James Michener wrote, and I'm paraphrasing heavily, that until we find our "thing" everything else we do along the way is creative. It's all part of the process of learning who and what we are and how we are meant to use it in and for the world. Another sage, David Whyte, is fond of reciting the following quote, attributed to Joseph Campbell:

"If the path ahead of you is clear, you are on someone else's path."

In other words, your path - the work of your life - is the one with all the obstacles. You have to fight for it, up and over, through and around; clawing, scraping, racing, pushing, pulling. This is how you know it is yours. And, in my experience, while all of that is happening you are deeply gratified by knowing that this fight is your fight. This labor is your labor; the work meant for you and you alone.

And what a joy it is to find that work. Truly, it is an exceptional thing to realize that this is my offering, my contribution. And with it comes a deep and significant responsibility to fully explore, fully realize and fully practice that which I am meant to do.

I am grateful on Labor Day to have found my work. More than that, I am grateful to have the permission, support, trust and expectation to fully express it.

"Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present."
~ Albert Camus ~


© 2010 David Berry