No One Is An Island
by Margaret Wolff
The following article is an interview with MARGARET J. WHEATLEY who is
recognized on five continents as one of the foremost management consultants
in the world today. When she talks about unraveling organizational
complexity, leaders from institutions as diverse as the U.S. Army and the
Girl Scouts, Fortune 100 corporations and monasteries, listen with rapt
attention. There is intelligence and power in her words; they make sense in
today's market economy. There is also compassion, for she deeply understands
the apprehension and helplessness many of today's leaders feel as they
battle the fiscal gods that gnaw at the soul of twenty-first century
industry. With unwavering devotion to nothing less than transforming the
archaic practices that govern modern commerce, she gently urges us to
actively engage in conversations that restore our sense of hope, to both
look within and collaborate with others to heal our professional lives.
As President of Berkana Institute, a charitable scientific, educational
and research foundation, Meg currently travels the globe sharing her ideas
on how organizations can successfully grow and sustain themselves. She began
her career as a teacher and administrator in the public schools, served in
the Peace Corps in Korea, then went on to earn an M.A. in Communications and
Systems Thinking from New York University and a doctorate in Administrations
Planning and Social Policy from Harvard. She has been on the faculty at the
Marriott School of Management at Brigham Young University and at Cambridge
College, Massachusetts, served as a fellow of the World Business Academy,
and been an advisor to the Fetzer Institute's Fellows Program. She is also
the mother of two teenage sons and five stepchildren, and grandmother of
thirteen grandchildren.
Meg's current work is actually the outgrowth of her life-long fascination
with science and history. In 1992, her award-winning book, Leadership and
the New Science was published. The book outlined a groundbreaking
approach to healing organizational chaos, one that evolved out of her study
of quantum physics, evolutionary biology, organic chemistry, and chaos
theory. Anchored in the fundamental universal principles that govern the
development of all life, she sees organizations as dynamic, living systems
that can be nurtured by meaning and connection. Her ideas have won her the
praise and respect of colleagues, leading-edge executives and entrepreneurs
in every field of professional endeavor.
Meg's study of the new science has also led her into a deeper
understanding of Spirit, an understanding that animates every aspect of her
life and work. She is an ardent spiritual seeker with a profound reverence
for life. Though she now practices Tibetan Buddhism, her exposure to a
variety of spiritual traditions has, she feels, led her to an appreciation
of the unity and order that lies just beneath the complexities of the modern
world.
I first heard about Margaret J. Wheatley through a friend who praised her
work with near religious fervor and urged me to read her book. I was knee-deep
in my research for this book at the time, so I passed on his recommendation. A
few weeks later, over the course of one weekend, he and two other friends spoke
so earnestly about Meg's ideas that, this time, I decided to pay attention. It
was then that I realized that what the Powers That Be were telling me through my
friends was that Meg would he a wonderful person to talk with for this book.
I began dialoguing with Sarah Eames, Meg's devoted assistant, the next day.
As it turned out, Meg Wheatley, world traveler, would "coincidentally" be in San
Diego -- in my own backyard -- at an international management conference in three
months. Sarah set up a meeting for the end of the conference and graciously
arranged for me to attend Meg's keynote address so I could, in her words, "see
Meg in action." This emotional generosity characterized every contact I had with
Meg and her organization.
Three months fly by. I read Meg's books and prepare a list of questions to
seed our upcoming conversation. On the morning of the keynote address, I have
the thought to bring my taping gear with me on the off chance she is free to
meet me that day. I stow my equipment in the trunk of my car, drive to the hotel
where the conference is being held, and make my way through its tony corridors
to a large meeting room teeming with executives. I slide into an empty seat in
the back of the room just as the opening speaker begins his remarks. An artist
stands with her back to the audience on a corner of the stage making "pictorial
notes," drawing her impressions of the speaker's message. Music plays as we take
part in "games" specifically designed to demonstrate the efficacy of managing
complexity with our whole brain. Everyone sits in near child-like wonder when
all these creative elements are masterfully tied to the hard core realities of
modern business.
A tall woman with esteemed credentials steps up to the platform and
introduces Meg. She speaks of her not just as an international management
consultant but as a poet and a spiritual force. A thunderous round of applause
precedes her as she takes the stage, a woman of middle years who, in stature,
reminds me of an oak tree; in mind and heart, a mountain stream. She walks back
and forth across the stage as she talks, the hem of her long earth-colored skirt
flowing behind her -- running, actually, to keep up with her. She speaks slowly,
deliberately, with no notes. Her words move from behind her mind as effortlessly
as her breath flows in and out of her body. She talks about how, in the midst of
chaos, our greatest challenge is to believe in our own goodness; how we are all
afraid of change; how, when fear augers in, leaders must demonstrate patience,
forgiveness and compassion; how we must approach chaos with humility rather than
blame and negation. "Would it not be helpful to know that everyone in the room
here today is as confused and anxious as you are?" she asks. "Could we not ease
our individual pain if we entered into the darkness of organizational life
together?"
Meg recites a Gary Snyder poem that urges us to "go light," then presents an
exercise which demonstrates the healing power of listening -- really listening --
to others. She closes her keynote with another poem by Mary Oliver. For a
moment, I forget that I'm at a management conference. The room is still, almost
meditative.
After a few minutes, I weave my way through the tables of serene executives
to the speakers platform and introduce myself to Meg. She smiles as I extend my
hand, then tells me how she tried to reach me earlier that morning to see if we
could change our meeting to that afternoon. Her smile deepens as I tell her how
I followed a last-minute intuition to bring along my recording gear. Our mutual
surprise and gratitude at how well things work out is the entree into what
becomes an easy connection. We arrange to meet later that day.
I grab some lunch, review my notes, then ride the elevator to the designated
hotel suite and set up my recording gear. A flurry of meetings and several phone
calls later, Meg joins me for our conversation -- for what, unbeknownst to either
of us, will become our first conversation. Half-way through the taping, I notice
a problem with my recording equipment. I replay a section of the tape; it seems
fine, so we continue on. I plan to listen to the tape on my way home. If
something is wrong, I think to myself, perhaps Meg would be willing to meet me
the next day as we had originally planned. As I leave the hotel, I pick up my
phone messages and find out that my aunt has passed away. Days later, when I
remember to check the tape, I discover that it is, in fact, defective. By that
time, Meg has returned home to Provo, Utah.
At first, I'm horrified, then I laugh. I must approach this chaos and
complexity with, as Meg counsels, humility. So I relinquish my consternation, my
fear and my pride, and email Sarah to tell her what happened. "Can we work
together to find a way to redo the interview?" I ask. "I will go wherever Meg
is, whenever she is free." We finally decide that the best course is to do the
second interview by phone six weeks later when Meg is home for Christmas.
I'm glad I've had the opportunity to be with Meg, to see her in person, as
that connection helps me place myself in her presence when we talk on the phone.
By the end of our conversation, I am again aware that I do not have to be with
someone in order to "keep company" with them. I begin with an apology for any
inconvenience this has caused her, and express my appreciation at her
willingness to talk with me again. She laughs and tells me she thinks this
happened because the Universe wanted her to say something she didn't cover in
our first conversation. With that in mind, we begin.
Something that really intrigued me about her book is her description of the
universe as an invisible web of interconnected relationships that are rich with
meaning and order. Her choice of words is not unlike the language theologians
use to talk about the unity of God consciousness. I ask her for her thoughts on
the relationship between science and religion.
"One of the maxims I frequently use -- although I don't know whether it comes
from Heisenberg or Einstein -- is 'We will never be able to use science to prove
the existence of God because the science will change on you.' And because the
experience of Consciousness is so intimate and personal, it can't he replicated
or statistically measured in a laboratory environment. I'm increasingly clear in
my own mind that I don't really want science to be capable of explaining the
Sacred. Actually, I think the ways we access spirit are exactly what we need to
incorporate into the scientific method to gain a greater understanding of life.
I think it's wonderful that the new science can explain the interconnectedness
of all life. but the way I help people understand these theories is to put them
in touch with their own intuition so they can feel a sense of the Sacred -- the
things science can't explain -- within their organization and within themselves."
When she spoke at the conference, I noticed her ability to take concepts like
intuition and compassion and made them must needs to an audience I thought would
be impervious to such things. That she does this with ease says a lot about her
skill as a speaker. It also says a lot about the receptivity of her audience. I
ask her if she thinks that there are universals to the experience of
Consciousness, enough commonalties to form the basis for a "language" we can all
respond to despite our individualized perceptions and beliefs.
"Oh definitely. If you read the mystical literature of all the great
traditions, you find similar words to describe the inexplicable experience of
being 'all' yet also being 'one.' I believe Consciousness is a universal
experience, but one that can only be explained through highly individual
experiences."
Because we each have an intimate relationship with our God? "Right." she says
emphatically.
How would you define God?
"I think about God in terms of the feelings I have in the presence of what I
consider sacred or holy. Those feelings include true happiness -- joy is the
right word -- a feeling of expansion, a sense of mystery. Beyond that, I think
I'm a pretty sloppy theologian." She laughs.
"I also have an eclectic set of beliefs that somehow fit into my perception
of God: I believe there is an Intelligence or Mind at work in the universe
beyond our own being that guides us. I deeply believe in karma. And I believe we
each have particular gifts that we are responsible to give back to the whole.
Maybe, over time, these concepts will all come together in some organized
theology but, right now, this works for me. I realize some of these beliefs are
contradictory, but for people like myself who love questioning, contradictions
are fodder for my curiosity. Without contradictions, I think we can become rigid
fundamentalists and stop questioning."
I've often thought about conflict as an impetus for growth -- but never
contradiction. Contradiction is more subtle, like the grain of sand inside the
oyster shell, the irritation that eventually gives rise to the pearl. Meg seems
to hold her contradictions lightly. She is strong and sensitive, deeply curious
yet utterly at ease with not knowing. I'm interested in knowing more about her
background, how she got to this point. Was she raised in a spiritual
environment?
"I was raised in a Jewish-Christian home. My mother was Jewish but converted
to Christianity when she married my father. I had a wonderful Jewish grandmother
who was an active Zionist on the world stage. She wrote books and ran for
Congress, all to help create the state of Israel. My father was English, a pagan
at heart, a Shintoist in the sense that he believed all of Nature was alive and
filled with Spirit.
"As a young adult, I lived in Korea for two years and was very drawn to
Confucianism and Buddhism when I was there. During the '60's and '70's I got
involved with some radical theologians in the Christian tradition. Then I became
a serious student of
The Course in Miracles. Several years later, I married a Mormon
and practiced that theology for a while. About four years ago I discovered
Tibetan Buddhism, which has transformed me deeply. It's now my primary spiritual
practice.
"All this searching led me to understand that no one faith, no one
discipline, no one job title or political party, or any box we put ourselves in,
is big enough to hold all of who we are -- or hold what needs to be happening in
the world through each of us today. I believe we're each here to bring together,
to mend, the different strands of thought in every field -- spiritual and
academic."
Did your study of the new science influence your thinking?
"It actually led me back to spiritual tradition, to explore Buddhism as well
as theologies like Creation Spirituality and other new forms of joyful
expression of what Spirit is. I saw -- through the eyes of biologists and
physicists in particular -- that there was a deeply ordered universe, a primacy
of relationships and a great, unstoppable creativity that characterizes this
universe. Each of these concepts has been well explained in the spiritual
traditions for millenniums.
"The horrors of the twentieth century have also influenced my thinking; they
revealed a great deal to me about the indomitability of the human spirit. The
Holocaust -- any of the genocides in this century -- have pushed the human spirit
to the limit. And we have survived!"
Zainab Salbi's story of the Rwandan woman who adopted five orphans after
losing her children in a church massacre is still fresh in my mind, and I share
it with Meg. We talk for a while about this woman and others who, in the midst
of atrocity, do not lose touch with what's important to them.
"I often tell stories like that," Meg says. "They're so important,
particularly in this country where we believe people are capable of extending
themselves to others or asking spiritual questions only after their primary
needs for shelter, food and security are met. I don't believe this is true. We
are capable of greatness and nobility and generosity all the time -- even in the
midst of our greatest suffering."
In Leadership and the New Science, you describe a healthy organization as one
that is able to adapt to the demands of the moment, is resilient and fluid, has
order, partners with others, is open to various kinds of information even
information which may ultimately be disturbing -- and also has a stability that
comes from an ever-deepening center. I'm intrigued by how similar your
description of a healthy organization is to the description of the
self-actualizing individual.
"Yes it is, but I prefer the phrase 'ever-deepening identity' rather than
'self-actualization' because I think it better explains what's going on from a
spiritual perspective. What gives us power, what gives us the ability to go on
to such horrific circumstances, is a deep centeredness. It doesn't matter if
we're talking about an individual, an organization or a nation. If we have a
sense of that place within us where we know and trust ourselves, a place that's
clear about what we stand for and what's important to our life, where there's
always a feeling of peace, then we can withstand the enormous shifts going on
around us and know what action is appropriate to take. We're not reacting in the
moment or feeling like a victim of circumstance.
"It would be nice if organizations as well as people had this deepening
center. I have to say that, in the years since I wrote those words,
organizations have less opportunity to even notice what they might like to stand
for because our culture has shifted more of its attention to making money and
going fast, not to thinking about centeredness. The capitalistic values we're
organizing around right now make it possible to create a company whose only
requirements are to return a lot of money to its shareholders and look good for
the quarter. There's no thought about long-term development. The financial
pressures are wreaking absolute havoc on any leader's ability to create an
organization that thinks about its people."
Which may be why so many people are miserable in their jobs or leaving to
create their own companies.
"Exactly. I do think that, from a higher level, what we're seeing in the
world now is the end of a very destructive thought form: one that champions
greed, competition. Individualism and the manipulation of the world or world
resources for the advantage of the few. This is not how the world works!
I also believe we're entering a period where we're questioning the ultimate
value and meaning of this kind of behavior. People are asking themselves: 'What
is this all for? "Why am I working longer and harder? "Why am I more stressed?'
`Why can't I sleep at night? "Why are my children falling away from me? ''Why
don't I even know my neighbors?' These concerns are starting to percolate in our
consciousness. Destruction is painful, but questioning is good. We must question
the old so the new can be born."
Do you think meaning arises out of pain?
"I think meaning comes from realizing that we're scrambling faster and faster
for something that then reveals itself to be meaningless -- like sacrificing
everything in order to give your children a high standard of living, then losing
your marriage or your connection to your family because you don't have the time
to talk to your partner or like realizing that no matter how you work for a
company, they're just as likely to fire you as not. What's going on inside our
largest organizations today is completely insane. I believe that meaning arises
when we make time for relationships within our homes and organizations, when we
develop community, when we treat others well and when we stay in touch with our
own center."
How do you create meaning in your life?
"By doing work I feel is given to me by Spirit to do, by doing work that life
has given me to do, work that has a deep spiritual rootedness, that can reverse
the insanity in the world. My work is about rallying people around the globe so
they can re-institute or recreate organizations that are sane and habitable,
that make sense, that are organized around life-affirming values rather than
profit.
"But having a spiritual practice nourishes me more than anything else I do.
I've been meditating for many years. It keeps me grounded during the day. Now I
can call forth the meditative state in meetings -- just sit back for a minute,
and there I am. Daily meditation, working with mantras and repetitive prayers,
practicing mindfulness in every waking hour -- these are the things that make it
possible for me to feel peaceful in the midst of all this craziness."
She pauses for a moment, then says, "Like most human beings, even though I
realize how much I gain from daily spiritual practice. There are times when I
completely let it go. It's only when I begin to notice that I don't feel
peaceful, that I get angry at silly things or 'lose it' more often, that I
return to my daily practice. Sometimes it's hard to stay with it even when you
know how wonderful it is. I once talked with some Buddhist monks about it and
they told me that they experience the same thing. I think this ebb and flow is
part of the spiritual journey."
You mentioned that you work with mantras and repetitive prayers. Do you have
a favorite that helps you get back in touch when you feel that disconnect?
"They change depending on what I'm studying or working on. One of my
consistent favorites is from The Course in Miracles: 'Teach only love,
for that is what you are.' I have said this to myself many many times,
especially when I'm in a difficult situation with another person. Another one
that I've relied on for years is 'Please God, let me see this through Your
eyes'. Even though I don't necessarily believe in a God that has a human form,
saying this opens me up to a whole other perspective about the situation I'm
facing, a much larger perspective. I've used these thoughts when I begin to feel
myself getting angry with my kids as well as in the middle of a business
meeting. Each takes only a few seconds to say, and each completely shifts the
dynamics of the situation for me."
There are relationships I'm tending, where seeing through Divine eyes would
serve me well. Like many women, relationships forge a huge reservoir of meaning
in my life. How well we mother or partner or care for another -- or are cared for
by others -- can have a powerful hold on our self-definition. Do you find this to
be true?
"Yes, but I think it goes even deeper than that. One of the insights I've
gained from studying quantum physics is that nothing exists as an independent
entity, devoid of relationship with something or someone else. Relationship is
not necessarily with another person. We can be 'in relationship' with an idea, a
tree, with God, with anything. Whatever the relationship, it calls you out of
yourself and, in some way, evokes more of what's inside you."
Because it mirrors some aspect of your self.
"Because being in relationship with the other demands that you contribute a
part of yourself to create something entirely new. When two energies or elements
combine, they form a new perception or entity. A rose is something we see as a
consequence of every other element in the universe. If there weren't sunlight,
if there weren't dirt or water or evolution, the rose wouldn't exist. If you
take away any one element in that relational process, you destroy the
possibility that there would ever be a rose. Everything exists because of
everything else in the universe. Buddhism calls this 'dependent co-arising.'
So our relationship with everything in the universe contributes to who we
are; we are what we are because everything else is what it is.
"Yes. This is one of the ways Buddhism explains the interconnectedness of all
life. We really wouldn't be here except for the fact that everything else is
here."
Then it follows that our relationships not only define who we are, they
sustain us and are integral to our very existence.
"Yes. Once you start thinking about this," Meg explains "it makes perfect
sense. When you contrast this understanding to the way we experience life --
particularly in America where we champion rugged individualists who don't need
anybody else -- it's easy to see how insane our current cutthroat business
practices are. None of us are truly self-sufficient. Even if you're a hermit
living in a cave, you're still dependent on the elements, on the plants and the
animals."
Is it the relationship or the quality of relationship that creates meaning in
our lives?
"In every relationship, we have a choice: to choose love or separation, to
choose for love or to choose for hate or fear. If we get into
self-protectiveness and believe others are out to harm us, we flee from them or
we erect a barrier between us and them because we think this will guarantee our
survival. In truth, we are all diminished by these acts."
And enhanced by how receptive and loving we are.
"Absolutely," she says.
In the weeks to come. I revisit this idea of dependent co-arising frequently.
It's food for thought. Haute cuisine, actually. It makes me feel like I'm part
of something big, that I belong to the whole world. I understand my
responsibility to others more deeply: to create quality relationships with
everything in my environment so that more quality, more Love, is present in the
world. What evolves from these kinds of relationships is a sort of Divine
Reciprocity, a giving and receiving of the best and highest of one's Self and of
others, an interrelationship that eventually becomes an expression of
Omnipresence, an actual partnership with God.
Sitting there listening to Meg on the other end of the telephone, I make a
different connection: I realize that relationship must also factor in to the
answers to questions like: "Who am I?" "Why am I here?" "Who can show me the
way?" I ask Meg how she would answer these questions.
"About ten years ago, I was making some notes for a speech, and I found
myself writing three questions on a piece of paper. The first question was 'Who
are we?' The second was 'Who is God?' And the third was 'How does the universe
work?' I couldn't answer them then and I can't answer them now, but over the
years, they keep presenting themselves to me as the questions I need to keep
reflecting on as part of my spiritual journey.
"What I do know is that each of us is an eternal being. And that our natural
expression is Love. Any other expression we find ourselves in is just a warp of
our true identity. I believe in reincarnation, that we keep coming back until we
'wake up' to the awareness of who we really are. And that 'waking up' is
enlightenment -- what I view to be the purpose of life."
She pauses for a moment, then says, "One of the great things I learned from
Tibetan Buddhism is that we pursue enlightenment not for ourselves, but so we
can help others wake up, help others move beyond their suffering and difficulty.
This value is quite different than what we have here in our culture where we
think mostly in terms of 'I'm better than you are' or 'I'm going to be
enlightened before you are.'
It's that competitive thing.
"Yes. There's a great, great Buddhist practice of praying that others will
wake up before you do. Boy! Does this ever change your relationship with the
people who are bugging you! You begin to ask, 'What can I do that will help
them?' It's a very powerful meditation.'
How would you answer the question "Who can show me the way?"
"Well, once you think about being here so that others might wake up, you
realize that, through the ages, there have been great ones, awakened spiritual
ones, who are here to help the rest of us wake up. These great beings are
available as our teachers."
Great ones from all traditions?
"Yes. I believe that at their level, their teaching is one universally-rooted
thought. I rely on teachers from many traditions, whether they're in form or in
Consciousness."
Are they your mentors?
"Mentoring just doesn't capture it. I frame what I get from them more in
terms of absolute guidance based on their experience achieving what they want
all of us to achieve. They are my spiritual teachers. They can sometimes be
quite harsh, tricksters who will pull the rug out from under you, but their
motive is always to prod you a little, to help you grow. Once you understand
this, you can tolerate their trickery."
Recently, your professional direction shifted and you've begun to focus more
on conversation as a tool to help people discover what they really care about.
What motivated the shift?
"I think people need more time to just think, to explore what's meaningful to
us, to connect with others. It's really missing in our culture today and we're
all so hungry for it! When I share my stories, something meaningful occurs for
everyone involved. Closer relationships, new ideas, the courage to take action
in the midst of challenge -- all this arises when we sit face to face with other
human beings and talk as equals. I believe that conversation is a gift we can
give each other."
You once wrote, "I crave companions, not competitors, who will sail with me
through this puzzling and frightening world." With whom do you sail? With whom
do you share your spiritual life?
"I once wanted to be part of a spiritual community, but I actually don't need
that any longer. I have certain books I work with and rely on, books I can
randomly open and find helpful guidance on the page before me. And I have a few
very close friends I talk with. Whenever we talk, whatever we talk about, it's
natural for us to put things into a spiritual perspective. We don't all have the
same spiritual framework, but that's OK. Diversity is important. It's a lot more
fun to explore issues from multiple perspectives. If I stay curious and
disengage from my own certainty about what I think a friend should be doing, if
I don't judge her, if I hold to the goal of not needing to know what's going on,
if I just keep exploring the mystery with her and let that mystery unfold, I
eventually get to a place where I see that there are a lot of different ways to
look at any one situation."
Has it been a challenge for you to learn how to live like this, to
participate in things as they unfold to live more "in the moment"?
"It's become less of a challenge and more of an adventure. It took a few
years to feel comfortable with not knowing because our culture rewards us for
what we know. It's so much more fun when I let go, when I'm willing to be
surprised rather than needing to be confirmed in my preconceived ideas of what
should be."
That sounds like a good definition of faith.
"That's part of it," she responds thoughtfully. "Another part is believing in
Spirit -- and believing that part of the surprise is that Spirit doesn't always
work the way you think It should."
The truth behind her words makes us both laugh.
I really like this idea, I say, of being willing to be surprised. The sense
of adventure it engenders is a good way to diffuse the symptoms of approaching
chaos: the mental blurring, the teeth gnashing and nail biting, the mix master
that churns the gut. You once defined chaos as "a system standing at a
cross-roads between death and transformation." It's a wonderful description of
what's really going on, one that also sounds a lot like what's referred to in
the mystical literature as a "dark night of the soul."
"Yes, it's exactly the same thing. One is science and the other is spiritual
tradition."
Have you ever had this experience and, if so, how did you make it through?
"'Dark nights of the soul' are something I'm prepared for now because I
realize that they are part of the process of my being born into a whole new way
of looking at something, a new way of being in the world. I can't change, I
can't transform in the ways I want to if I'm not willing to walk through those
dark passages. Growth and newness are only available on the other side of chaos.
"We're living in a time, both in science and in spirituality, when the old
ways simply can't give us what we need to live the rest of our lives. Things
change, and part of change is that our obsolete ways of doing things must fall
away. Not knowing what anything means, not remembering why you're even alive or
why you thought you could accomplish something or why you thought something was
of value is a terrible state to be in! You lose all touch with Spirit and feel
devastated and alone. It's not that you're abandoned -- although you feel
abandoned -- it's just that you're moving into a different relationship with the
Sacred. As one of my spiritual counselors, a Benedictine nun, once said to me,
'The reason you can't see God when you're feeling like this is because God is
standing very close to you.'
"I still experience these dark periods about every three or four months," Meg
confides, "but instead of lasting for a month, they last a few days. When one
occurs, I just let it happen. I don't try to figure my way out or drink my way
out or talk my way out. I just sit with it; I let it move through me. I
understand it's preparing me for what will come next -- and that 'next' is always
more healthy and peaceful and grounded."
Is this what you referred to in your book as "the necessary heart of chaos"?
Did you mean that chaos is loving and nurturing or that it's a core element of
transformation?
She takes a few seconds to think about this. "I think I meant 'core,' but
both interpretations are interesting. To see chaos as having a heart, as a
loving process, is really foreign to our culture. It's a concept that's much
more common to indigenous people who often go through rigorous initiation rites
to die to the old and awaken to the new. In those instances, chaos is seen as
being pivotal to the growth process. But when you're trying to control the world
as we are here in the West, trying to use life for your own ends rather than
participate in it, you end up thinking of chaos as your enemy.
"Chaos can release your creative power in the same way that necessity is the
mother of invention. When things get extreme, when the old ways don't work,
that's when you are your most inventive. If you want to grow, chaos is an
indispensable part of the process. There's no way around that. As the world or
your life changes, you have to give up the behaviors, habits, relationships and
ideas that no longer help you make sense of the world around you. It's an
enormous letting go.
"These days, everyone is scrambling to hold on to an old form of doing
business based on hierarchy and prediction that no longer works in our rapidly
changing world. If we spend our time trying to shore up institutional forms that
aren't right for the future, we contribute to the creation of the
meaninglessness we were talking about earlier. As soon as we identify that
what's going on is a necessary precursor to new growth, that it's not anyone's
fault, people actually relax because they realize they no longer have to figure
out how to fix what's broken. They start to get engaged with thinking about
what's next or what's new. This can be very creative and exciting for everyone."
That said, is there anything in your life you would have done differently?
"Well, I think my answer is no. Actually, I love my life right now. I would
have handled my divorce a little differently, in terms of my children, although
it was a very honorable, loving divorce. But I'm not in a state of regret about
anything, and I certainly believe that whatever situation I'm in affords me the
opportunity to learn a lot, no matter how messy it is. I don't believe learning
is necessarily dependent on any one particular experience though. Learning is
always available. We decide what the learning is, and the learning changes as we
grow and change."
What do you think is your greatest accomplishment?
"I have a deep faith -- in human capacity, in life and life's processes and I
have a very deep faith in God."
What advice would you give to others?
"I don't like to give nameless, faceless advice. I do ask people to notice
what attracts their attention, what's meaningful to them, and recommend they
stay with that, whatever it is. I believe that's one of the ways Spirit speaks
to us. What gets your attention is different than what gets mine, but I have
great faith that the things that get to each of us are ours, are what we're
supposed to notice. If we pay attention to them, they will greatly assist us on
our journey."
When all is said and done, how would you like to be remembered?
In a heartbeat, she says, "On a good day, like today, I have no need to be
remembered."
Her words explode across the telephone like fireworks in a Fourth of July
sky. All that comes out of my mouth is a resounding "Wow!" She laughs. She is as
dazzled by her reply as I am. We each digest the import of her words in silence,
then break the silence with laughter. My mind returns to her comment at the
beginning of our conversation about how she thinks our second go-round occurred
because the Universe wanted her to say something she didn't address in our first
conversation. Perhaps, this was what the Universe was waiting for.
 This
article was excerpted from:
In Sweet Company,
by Margaret Wolff.
Reprinted with permission of the publisher, In Sweet Company. ©2002. www.InSweetCompany
Info/Order this book
About the Author
Margaret
Wolff, M.A, is a journalist, storyteller and trainer whose work celebrates
women's growth and development. She has degrees in Art Therapy, Psychosynthesis,
and Leadership and Human Behavior. Her 25-year career includes writing for
numerous national and international publications, and designing and facilitating
over 250 workshops, retreats and education programs.
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