by Heather Plett | Jan 19, 2012 | Creativity, mandala, Uncategorized
Since I began my year long commitment to my mandala practice at the beginning of this year, a number of people have shown curiosity about it, so I thought I’d write a little about why I make them.
The best way to answer that question seemed to be a mandala, so I started with the question “why do I create mandalas?” at the centre of the page. Writing whatever came to mind round and round that circle helped me clarify some of my thoughts on it – and it opened some brand new ideas I hadn’t even considered. And that is the first answer to the question “why do I make mandalas” – because the process helps me get closer to my own truths.
It’s difficult to define the value of a creative process such as mandala-making for one primary reason. The act of creating art of any kind requires me to step out of my analytical meaning-finding left brain into my intuitive, wordless right brain. When I try to analyze and explain what value I’m deriving from it, I have to carry it all back into my left brain. It doesn’t always translate well, which is why I’m often left without words.
But let me give it my best effort…
Here’s the unedited version of what showed up on the page when I made the above mandala. It’s an attempt at integrating my right and left brain thinking. Each ring of the circle represented a unique but intertwined part of the inquiry for me. The lines emerging from the centre represent the way that the three rings are intertwined and support each other (an explanation I only understood after they showed up).
Circle 1 -What do mandalas represent?
It starts with a circle, the shape of our earth, the shape of a tree, the shape of the smallest atom and the largest planet.
It is the shape that nature offers us when a flower blooms or a mother gives birth.
It is a feminine shape, bringing us back to womb and cycles of life.
It is the cycles of the seasons, the returning back to the place we started, bringing with us our baskets full of new stories.
It is the rings of memory we add to our history, like the rings of a tree.
Circle 2 – What is their value for me?
The mandala is my centring practice.
It grounds me in Mother Earth.
It reminds me of where my wisdom comes from.
It gives me a way to access my subconscious and that place too deep for words.
It lets me play and let go of logic and linear thinking.
It shifts me into my right brain, a place where ambiguity and wordless wisdom are welcome.
It brings me closer to Sophia, the feminine nature of the Divine.
It lets me experience Spirit in a kairos space that is outside the order of chronos time.
It is my meditation and my wordless prayer.
It lets me access wisdom I didn’t know was buried in my subconscious.
It asks nothing of me but my presence and my willingness to engage.
It is not based in rules or convention.
I can do it my way.
Circle 3 – What might mandalas represent for community?
Circle is the shape of community.
It is the place where we gather and have meaningful conversations.
Mandala starts with the fire at the centre-point, giving us energy and light.
It ends with us holding the edge of the circle, holding space for each other.
Real change begins when we face each other in community.
Mandala is the shape that brings us back to those essential elements.
It reminds us that there is great capacity for beauty when we are in circle.
Mandala as a community practice has the potential to heal us and to remind us of our birth, our connection with each other, and our grounding in Mother Earth.
Mandala can revive our spirit in community and give us a shared way of accessing those deep stories that our words do not want to touch.
Mandala can be a part of our story circles, giving us a place to paint our journeys to wholeness.
Mandalas can loosen our resistance and can grow our hope.
Mandalas can offer us new ways of framing old stories.
*****
The following quote resonated for me when I heard it yesterday.
I would not give a fig for the simplicity this side of complexity, but I would give my life for the simplicity on the other side of complexity. – Oliver Wendell Holmes
I believe that mandalas serve a purpose in helping us find the “simplicity on the other side of complexity”.
As you can tell, I’m very excited about this process and believe that it can have significant implications for my work, both in helping individuals with their self-discovery work and in helping communities get to the heart of whatever is emerging.
Something new is growing out of this for me. I’ll be doing some one-on-one mandala coaching sessions with people in which I coach them in developing a personal mandala for whatever is emerging in their lives. This offering is in the development stage right now – once it’s ready, I’ll let you all know.
In my one-on-one sessions I will:
– help clients explore something that is present for them right now – a problem, a birthing, an inquiry, a fear, etc.
– based on whatever emerges for them, I will coach them in developing a personal mandala, based on a number of mandala-processes I have designed.
I will also be developing a course or group coaching program based on this work. If you’re interested, I’d love to hear what would appeal to you most.
If you want to book a one-on-one session, please contact me. I anticipate that the price will be approximately $100 for a half hour session, with options for follow-up calls.
by Heather Plett | Dec 15, 2011 | Uncategorized
The past couple of weeks, my energy has been consumed mostly with the two effective written communication classes I’m teaching at the university. That path has taken me through some interesting terrain lately, with a lot of ups and downs.
Discovering plagiarism… DOWN.
Having to create and administer an exam when I’m not convinced exams have value for this kind of learning… DOWN.
Spending nine hours marking that exam… DOWN.
Listening to students make their final presentations about pieces of writing that impacted them… UP.
Witnessing the courage of some of the students when they spoke closer to their hearts than they’re used to speaking in class… UP.
Seeing the looks of disappointment on the faces of international students who struggle in English when their exam marks were lower than they’d hoped… DOWN.
Receiving genuine apologies for the plagiarism… UP.
Hearing several students say “I’m glad you’ll be teaching us another class after Christmas.”… UP.
Yesterday was a particularly interesting day that saw both ups and downs within the span of a few hours.
After lunch (of a full day class), I walked into a classroom full of angry, frustrated students. They’d just received some bad news about their program and the certification many of them hope to apply for after graduation. I’d planned to spend the afternoon playing a lighthearted game that fit with the day’s topic on writing persuasively, but with so much negative energy in the room, I knew there wasn’t much point… DOWN.
I set aside my plans for the afternoon, and offered the students the space and time to work through some of their frustration. Some strong words and a lot of emotion (including some tears) showed up in the room. I let it surface, and then (playing the role of facilitator rather than teacher) I tried to gently guide them in the direction of some positive action. They talked about how they could use the persuasive writing skills we’d talked about just that morning to try to change the situation they were in.
In a little over half an hour, they seemed ready to move on. Knowing it was a risk to move into a game with so much raw emotion in the room, and yet believing that it might be just the right thing to help diffuse the situation, I introduced the game. It was a version of the Dragon’s Den, where teams of 4 were each given a brown paper bag with a random item in it. They had to come up with creative ideas and persuasive language to convince the panel of “dragons” that they should invest in bringing that item to market. (I have my daughter Julie to thank for the idea.)
The game was more successful than I could have imagined. We laughed – a LOT. One group turned a seashell into an all-natural shaver. Another group had a frog business card holder that doubled as a cookie maker. A third group had a bag of incense that could calm your holiday stress and work as an aphrodisiac once the stress was gone. Another group had a small wooden container that worked as a weight loss device called “Fit it and eat it” – whatever you could fit into the container, you could eat. The last group had a toy that worked as a top, a stress reliever, or a hair accessory… UP
By the end of the day, students were leaving the class laughing and full of new resolve and maybe even a little bit of hope. One thanked me publicly for the afternoon, and several thanked me privately as they left the classroom.
It was one of those days that helped me remember what a privilege it is to be in a classroom with people as they learn and grow. I have no doubt that they learned more from the conversation that took place and the game that was played than they could have possibly learned from any lecture I might have done. (And certainly more than any exam they’ll write.) I also have no doubt that the group has become a stronger community than they were before.
The experience helped solidify my core values as a teacher. I value outside-the-box thinking. I value conversation. I value integrity. I value play. I value community. I value wholeheartedness. I value laughter. I value stories. I value transformative learning. I value risk-taking. I value collaboration. I value the unique wisdom and journey of each person in the room.
Though I sometimes resist the program restrictions placed on me, I am grateful that I have the opportunity to create space for the kind of learning and growth I believe in. It is an honour and a privilege to serve as a guide for the students who come to learn in my classroom.
by Heather Plett | Nov 24, 2011 | Uncategorized
1. Take a deep dive into your own heart. Dare to feel the depths of your emotions. Let joy wash over you like a tsunami wave. Let grief ooze out of every pore of your body. Be passionate and don’t apologize for your passion. Don’t be satisfied with life at the surface. Feel it, live it, be it.
2. Forgive more and forget more. You made a blunder and embarrassed yourself at a family dinner party? Forgive yourself. Forget it. Your partner overlooked your last anniversary? Forgive and then forget. Let go of the baggage that’s weighing you down.
3. Find someone you can trust and then lean in and trust them. Share the things that hurt you, whisper the deep and secret wishes of your heart, and let them see glimpses of your shadow and your brightest light. Trust that in their presence, you will not be judged.
4. Dare to be trustworthy. Be honourable for everyone you meet, but for a few select people (just enough not to burn you out with the giving), offer a place of great safety. Serve as a shelter for them, where vulnerability is welcome and weakness is handled tenderly. Be their lighthouse on a stormy ocean.
5. Tell more stories. Sit with your neighbours. Curl up on the couch with your best friend. Hang out in coffee shops. Talk to your taxi driver. Ask people to tell you the stories of their childhood, and then tell them yours. Create openings for storytelling in the most unlikely of places. Listen deeply and let the stories blossom under your care.
6. Live in community. Serve people and let them serve you. Dare to need people and let them know what you need. Be interdependent. Sit in circle and create spaces of trust and sharing.
7. Buy fewer things and give more away. Don’t listen to the advertisers who tell you that you can’t be happy without this year’s model. Make a choice to continue to take great delight in last year’s model. Give away the things you don’t need anymore. Live with less clutter and less attachment to material possessions.
8. Ask more questions. Be curious about the world. Stare in wonder. Let the questions take you down paths you didn’t expect to take. Don’t rush to find the answers. Let the questions lead to more questions and more opportunities to exercise your curiosity.
9. Go for more walks. Experience your neighbourhood. Get lost in the woods. Stare at intricate leaf patterns. Stretch your muscles. Feel your body move down the path. Notice the sun on your face. Be present, be mindful.
10. Find practices that bring you delight and then do them regularly. Paint. Dance. Take photo walks. Run. Swim. Pray. Meditate. Knit. Visit bookstores. Go to the theatre. Travel. Do it, delight in it, and savour every minute.
by Heather Plett | Nov 14, 2011 | Beauty, change, Community, Creativity, fearless, journey, Joy, Leadership, Passion, personality, Spirituality, things I've learned
* I would rather teach people to think beautiful thoughts than to create grammatically correct sentences.
* I believe that beauty and justice are inextricably intertwined and I want to bring more of both into the world.
* I believe that the greatest inventions, discoveries, and solutions emerge when people start asking the right questions.
* I believe that you have to ask a lot of questions in order to get to the right ones.
* I am happy when I can help bold creativity blossom in those around me.
* A little part of me shrivels up inside when I find myself stifling creativity with too many rules and judgements.
* I am easily distracted by colourful markers and clean white paper.
* I believe that personal leadership is more important than positional leadership.
* I choose community over team, circle over hierarchy, and family over corporation.
* I believe that shared stories open doorways to transformation.
* I am less productive when I haven’t had time for deep contemplation and equally deep play. The two go hand in hand.
* I believe that our differences are important but that they should not divide us.
* I delight in making new connections with people whose ways of looking at the world intrigue me. I am open to letting them change me, if it’s for the best.
* I am committed to hosting and being part of more conversations and inquiries that follow spiral patterns (moving inward to deeper wisdom) rather than linear pathways.
* Deep and soulful listening is often the best gift I can give anyone, and so I strive to keep my mouth shut and my ears open more often.
* I believe in walking lightly on this earth, and hope to some day use fewer resources for my own personal gain.
* I want to be open-minded and open-hearted and to live with delight as my constant companion.
* I believe that vulnerability and truth-telling can serve as catalysts for deep relationships and profound change.
* I believe that in order to create one great work of art you have to be prepared to create at least 100 mediocre ones first.
* I believe that time spent in meditation, prayer, and body movement is never time wasted, and I hope to some day live like I believe it.
* I believe that God created each of us to do good work and that we cheat our Creator and our world when we let our self-doubt and fear keep us from doing it.
* I want to bring more colour and light into otherwise dreary spaces.
* I strive to be more courageous tomorrow than I was today.
* I believe in daily transformation, continuous learning, and growth that doesn’t end until the day I exhale my last breath.
* I am committed to doing my best work, which is at the intersection of creativity, leadership, community, and story-telling.
by Heather Plett | Nov 4, 2011 | Beauty
the cloth that covers the table at the centre of our story circle each week
A story has emerged for me lately that has helped me define myself. It is that of a woman carrying a basket and filling it with story threads as she wanders.
Last week I was on a conference call with a circle of women planning a women’s gathering for next summer. We’ve been wrestling with what to name our gathering, and someone mentioned the words “weaving wisdom”. We all liked it. I shared with them the fact that lately I have seen my role in life as “weaving story threads into a tapestry of wisdom”. Each of the women in the circle is also a weaver of some kind.
With weaving on my mind so much lately, it shouldn’t have come as any surprise that last night’s writing prompt was a spool of thread. I’d brought brown bags for each of the people in my creative writing circle and inside each brown bag was an ordinary item that the holder had to write about and possibly use as a metaphor for her/his life. I chose the last bag.
Here’s my story about the thread inside my brown bag…
The Weaver
For years she’d carried her basket, not sure what it was for or why she’d been gifted with it as a child.
Though she didn’t understand its meaning, she knew it was important. She knew she was meant to carry it.
As she went through life, she found herself attracted to colourful story threads everywhere she went. Each story thread that was offered her was lovingly tucked into her basket.
She was a wanderer, this woman. She could barely keep her feet from moving. Europe, California, Kenya, India, Nova Scotia, Ohio, Bangladesh… she went wherever the stories called her to go.
Everywhere she went, she added new threads to her basket. Stories of courageous young women in Ethiopia. Stories of devastated villages in Bangladesh. Stories of justice workers rescuing young girls from sexual slavery in India.
Her basket threatened to overflow with all the threads she carried, and yet it never got heavy. She loved those stories dearly and spent time with them every chance she could.
Still, though, she wondered… what was the purpose of all of this? What was the use of all of these threads? What was she meant to do with them?
She began to ask the wise people in her life. “What do you think I’m meant to do with my basket?”
“Hmmm….” those people would say. “It just looks like a tangled mess to me.” Or “You have to find the answer in your own heart.” Or “Have you talked to God about it?” Nobody could give her an easy answer.
And so she continued to wander and gather more stories. But her heart became heavy, for she knew that all of this was meant for something.
Then one day, there came a distant whisper. “Have you tried weaving those threads together and making meaning out of them?”
Hmmm… really? Was she meant to be a weaver? But these were just tiny snippets – how could she make anything meaningful out of loose threads? And… what if she didn’t have the skill to weave them properly, or even to know which colours to line up together? What if she messed up and damaged the threads that had been entrusted to her?
She picked up a few threads and played with them wistfully. Could she trust the wisdom in her hands to make something out of this tangled heap?
Soon she realized, though, that without much effort at all, she’d lined up those first few threads in a way that made the colours dance. Yes. That looked right. The stories took on new meaning and beauty when she placed them together. She added a few more… and then more. Someone slipped a new thread into her hand. Ooooohh…. that one looked so lovely with the others!
Before she knew it, she was weaving. The threads were slowly being shaped into a beautiful tapestry in her hands.
She worked for hours, lovingly caressing each thread as she added it to her work of art. When she finally looked up from her work, she saw that she was being watched by eager eyes. Several of the people standing nearby were reaching out to her. In their hands were new threads.
“It looks so beautiful,” said the people watching her. “Will you teach us how to weave?”
This shocked her. “You want ME to teach you how to weave? But… I’m just playing with threads…I’m not sure I know what I’m doing!”
“Oh but you do!” they said. “You need to trust the gift in your hands. The world is desperately in need of more tapestries.”
And so she gathered her willing new friends into a circle. Reverently, and in awe of what she had begun, she lit a candle and rang a bell. “Start by telling us a story,” she said, and slowly and tenderly the people in the circle began pulling threads from pockets near their hearts. The threads were beautiful and each one was different from the last. Some were sparkly and bright, others were rough and well-worn. All were rich in colour and texture.
Before the end of the evening, a new tapestry had begun to form. “We’ll come back next week and work on it some more,” said the friends, excitement in their voices.
And so they did, and each week the woman marvelled at what she had helped to shape.
