Here and Gone: A Writer's Retreat On The Horizon

We've come down from the mountain; the leadership retreat is over.  

Mt. Madonna is behind me now; participants have dispersed.  I'm certainly feeling the after effects, which feels like I've been shaken and stirred, poured into a snow globe.  Now ordinary life is jiggling and turning everything up and down and back again.  Molecules are settling, slowly, ideas are sifting, energy is up and down.  It's a peculiar sensation.

The next step?  I'll be retreating to the Lost Coast of Northern California to study writing and spend uninterrupted time far away from The Groove.  Feels like adventure is afoot as well as plenty of serendipity.  All I know is there's a river, a big kitchen, other writers, writing instructors/facilitators and a cabin to sleep in.  Beyond that is where I'm flinging myself into the mosh pit of life.  Well, my version of it anyway.

Compared to folks who literally do leap into a screaming pit of thrashing crazed dancers, this promises to be very quiet and serene.  But, I'm excited anyway.

Time to gather my notebooks, pens, paperbacks and clothes and go away.  It's likely I won't be blogging for a week as the camp has no computer access.  But, I'm thinking handwriting might be a good idea for a while.  Me without my Mac is probably a lot like someone without their double-shot tall latte; I might have to bring my Tylenol and take deep breaths.  See?  Already, the flinging into the pit is happening.  Here I go!

The Hero's Journey: Leadership Through Inquiry

High on a redwood-flanked ridge top overlooking nearly all of Monterey Bay and Santa Cruz county, Mt. Madonna School and Conference Center are hosting a Chautauqua on learning and leadership.  There is a palpable sense of inquiry, positive regard and respect for what is possible.  

"How do you deal with disappointment?" We were asked.  It took all day to learn, entailed risking failure, working with strangers, and asking for help - none of the things professionals do readily.

Most of the 75 who have come from all over the country and parts of Canada are dedicated learners or educators in some way.  Ward Maillard, the lead facilitator working with Peter Block, is an instructor at the host school.  Ward takes his 12th grade students on a journey of discovery each year to places like South Africa to meet Archbishop Desmond Tutu or to India to meet the Dalai Lama.  He imparts a sophisticated but organic approach to learning that implies his students have as much value in the process of preparation as he does.  While he guides them in the planning process, he learns what they need to know and listens carefully to their conversations.  So, too, does he lead our group of adult learners through a process of self-reflection, small-group interaction and large-group exercises.

Following the pattern set forth in The Hero's Journey, the Chautauqua transitioned from answering The Call yesterday to taking The Journey today.  We came together first in a large group to review what had occurred the day before and listened to thought-provokingly simple but challenging ideas from Peter Block.  Peter constantly urged us to renew the process we are going through, bring it to our own work in our own disparate lives, always keeping the process of leadership simple and accessible.  He has a sense of urgency and immediacy about him, pushing attendees gently but firmly toward difficult solutions to problems that seem to have no easy answer.

Everyone acknowledges that most communities (like hometowns, workplaces, schools, institutions) are constantly changing and reflect the personalities and values of the membership; change is constant and always encounters resistance and potential for conflict.  Discussions about communities, systems, group thinking and personal vision were fascinating because they were often not what we were expecting to encounter at the outset.  The facilitators insisted on silence at times, that we seek people we knew the least to meet with, that we assess our journey and reflect on what it was that we were discovering as we moved through the exercises.  

This is tiring but enriching stuff and will require a good deal of reflection and observation in real time and space to learn how to apply what we've learned.  The arts are an integral part of this process - writers, artists, musicians, poets have all had a major part in giving dimension to the experience.  We wrap up tomorrow, an end point that will serve most of all as a beginning.

High on a Mountain Top: Chautauqua, Hero's Journey

I'm not where I was yesterday.

This is a condition to be wished, believe me.  I left home and wandered off to the northeast a bit and found myself in the company of people who are thinking about deep stuff high on a mountain top.  And they're not getting paid to do it.  As a matter of fact, they're paying for the privilege.

In a framework of taking The Hero's Journey made so famous by Joseph Campbell, about 50 varied and sundry adults who are connected in some way with education, community building and organizational development - among other things - have assembled at Mt. Madonna School in Gilroy, California.  The presence of Angeles Arrien and Peter Block, who have written a dozen books between them, coalesces the energy of the group and gives it form, guidance and wisdom.  But, as they like to say, the wisdom is in the room.  As Angeles has said, "Let's find out what's workin' you."

It calls itself a Chautauqua, a special meeting of teachers and students focusing on one subject, be it political, educational, religious or scientific.  This chautauqua is meant to explore that which inspires us and propels us forward on our spiritual or intellectual journey in life.

Peter and Angeles as well as many of the teaching staff of Mt. Madonna School have crafted a program through which we, the assembled, are exploring ideas about how to be more effective in our jobs, examining government and teaching systems, and delving into areas of self-development.  We're taking time to reflect, inquire, question and listen to what we are dealing with in our pursuit of community and self-realization.

Today we took the hero's first step - The Call  to action or purpose.  50 people have stepped out of their usual roles as educators, scientists, researchers, community leaders, and students to face challenging questions and explore difficulties that usually prevent success or progress in their work.  We got acquainted, spent some time thinking about what our personal Call might be and what we as a group might do to answer the Call.  It's kind of fuzzy and nebulous stuff, but the facilitators are skilled, wise and patient, supporting our efforts to express ideas and form friendships and a brief community in this particular setting while gaining new perspectives.

Ninja Macbook Standoff

In martial arts movies, darting ninjas throw flying spiked disks that fwwwwwoooonngggg into wooden posts right next to the hero's head, mere inches away.  Kicks and blows are countered in a blinding flurries, left, right, left, right!  Whack, whack, whack!  Haaaaiiii Yaaaaaa!  No ground is given and none gained.  That's what I feel like sitting here trying to get past the three-dimensional reality of the computer's screen and keyboard and on into my imagination.

It's a standoff.

My computer is a ninja master and I am just trying to get across the bridge to the beautiful garden filled with brilliant colors, cool breezes and some handsome protagonist named something like Jean-Claude, who has strong beautiful hands.  Or a heroine who has hot wired a Maserati in Milano and is desperately driving on the wrong side of the autostrada toward an alpine pass when she sees a sinister black helicopter lift up over the pass and begin to descend in her direction.

My shoulders are loose, my house is quiet.  And my mind is wandering...right off the page and over to the freezer where it's reaching for the ice cream.  I bring it back and consider the autostrada again and the sound of an expensive engine hitting the red zone and tires screaming on pavement as the car shrieks up the highway to the crest of a winding open road above treeline.  There are no guardrails and the flanks of the mountain fall away, a blurring periphery that our heroine doesn't even see.  Her eyes are narrowed and arms are taut as the vibration of the leather-covered wheel she's gripping....oops, stuck.  Hmm...not sure where I want to go with this.  Need to refer to the outline.  What's her name anyway?

I go past my bookshelf and stroke my favorite books with total admiration.  I always want to know how much time and what process the author used as the book was written.  I want to applaud the effort and champion the work it probably took, the missteps, the time in solitude the writer needed to set aside to get the words pullled down out of the universe and wrestled to the page.

Tonight, my ninja Macbook is holding me off.  I've feinted left and tried to make a sneak approach by pretending I'm going to quit for the night, but the screen is just as opaque and unforgiving as before.  I may try writing a few emails and get back to the real writing, kind of a fake-it-till-you-make-it thing.

I do need to get the heroine off the autostrada before the sinister black helicopter gets to her though.

Let's see now...

Independence Day: Pacific Grove's Little Event

It's difficult to remember a prettier day than today has been for the Fourth of July in Pacific Grove.  With the merest hint of a cool breeze nudging my wind chime, the day is idling quietly by.  A few hours ago, we celebrated Independence Day along with our fellow townspeople the way we do here - very modestly and with no fanfare whatsoever.

Now it's time for a nap.

In years past, the City of Monterey, our neighbor to the east, hosted a popular fireworks display over the harbor that the whole Peninsula enjoyed.  Thousands watched the exciting spectacle from the circle of beaches around the bay.  Not this year.  Like so much of the state and the whole country, cutbacks in the city budget have forced cancellation of the show.  And, to add boredom to dullness, home fireworks are not being allowed either.  This, say officials, is to prevent fires and injury.  Seaside, the rougher, more blue-collar town on the other side of Monterey, is allowing fireworks to be sold by civic groups, but there are no fireworks allowed in public places.

At this time of year, and on into the early part of November, California's native plants are in a dormant state in order to survive summer's drought conditions.  Grasses and scrub oak as well as chaparral are usually crispy dry and snap into open flame with very little provocation.  Fireworks and sparklers have been problematic in the past, so nearly all cities have put the kibosh on them.  Oh well.

In spite of the lack of explosive excitement we've come to consider a tradition in most parts of the USA, each town here on the Monterey Peninsula is hosting a public barbecue.  Pacific Grove's was held in Caledonia Park behind the Post Office, a small neighborhood park squeezed in between two narrow lanes of tidy Victorians.  A band played heart-felt covers of favorite rock hits, while barbecued chicken, beans and salad with garlic bread was served up for $10 a pop for adults, $5 for kids.  Pagrovians, young and mostly old, strolled over to the park sporting red, white and blue and then sat down to visit and blink and gaze around at the festive bunting and bright balloons.    

A young blond boy named Tanner was chosen to pick a winner from among dancing citizens who were interpreting music in their own special way (proving once again white folks can't dance but sure do try).  Tanner will one day be Mayor of Pacific Grove.  He did just fine as judge and had the confidence and spark needed to perform his duty with aplomb.

The celebration lasted from 11 until 2 when the band stopped and packed up and left.  No, indeed, Pacific Grove is not a town that celebrates wildly, but the simple charm of ordinary citizens turning out for a traditional day at the park was quaint and true to itself.  No fuss, no muss.  Three hours is quite long enough to be celebrating anything, thank you.

There are several small events and parades that come out of hiding, each taking their turn during the year, peeking out for a quick look, and then retiring to some obscure place to think it all over.  Is it that this town is contemplative? Shy? Listless?  Or just fine with itself and needn't howl at the moon at all?  A bit of all that, I suppose.  The sunshine felt good to everyone and for whatever odd or groovy reason, PG was out in its low-key force, happy to be warm for a change.