Reassurance - Believing That Paths Always Cross Again

Deer Valley, Utah
March 28, 2007

A group of mostly strangers gathers in a tucked away lodge behind closed gates and at the foot of a generous mountain where the whiteness of the snow creates the illusion that tiny people are gracefully gliding down the folds of a woman's wedding dress. On this snowy weeks end, two conveners host a small gathering to explore what is possible at the intersection between transformation of community and the transformation of consciousness.

The stated purpose of this gathering was multi-faceted; some of those facets were clearly articulated while others emerged in the process of the event:

"First was the invitation to give language to processes and ways of being that ensure the world works to benefit all peoples. This first layer was filled with provocative questions:

• How do we name this territory? All of us coming to this gathering and in this room are here because we believe we have been in that unique space where activism and consciousness intersect—but we have different names for it. Are we referring to the same thing? What is it? What language do we use to describe it?


• What are its attributes? We recognize this territory when we are in it, but it is somehow still illusive. What is the deep nature of this place?


• How do we recognize others who are also in this space? Who else is here and how do we recognize them? Who are the kindreds?


• How do we invite others in? What does it take to make this zone visible, accessible and understandable to others?

Second was the invitation to be the change to which we are calling for in the world.This meeting brings together a small group of leading generative thinkers to truly listen to one another and the world and give language to processes and ways of being that have the world works for all. We invite you to explore how we consciously align ourselves with this forward evolution of humanity that allows us all to discover and share our unique gifts, experiencing an unparalleled shift into the “beingness” of love, integrity, oneness, and possibility."

Sometimes I am perplexed about what to do after an event like this. In the past I had an authentic desire to want to stay in-touch with all the people at a gatherings like this but now days, I find myself much more discerning about with who I want to invest my energy. Of course this says more about me and where I am at in my life than it ever says about the gathering itself or the people in attendance.

A few days after the gathering I wrote a text describing my experience at the event. I hope it is of some use to the conveners, I know the reflection and writing process was helpful for me in making sense of why I accept going to these types of gatherings that do not always seem to have a very clear outcome. The conveners were gracious about accepting my comments and I know they received my words with the good intention in which they were written.

In the end, I still do feel a strong desire to stay in touch with some of the folks who attended the gathering, and yet, all the energy I can muster up to now is only to send them a poem that I wrote many years ago that I think captures how I often feel after a gathering like this. Here is what I sent them...

In 1998, at one of the first gatherings where I met so many people who walk this path for liberation with me, we were asked to write a “message” to a group of fellows who were ending a two-year fellowship program with one another and whom we were celebrating. I wrote the poem below. It is one of the many sentiments evoked in my reflection of the less than 72 hours I spent with the folks at this Utah convening.

What I Would Have said to Dorothy Had the Scarecrow Not Been Around or What I might Say to the Fellows at a Fork in the Road
by Raquel Gutiérrez, August 1998

what do you say to someone at a fork in the road?
nothing, I believe, other than “listen”

listen to your breath and the breath around you
wait for that wind to wash over you
entering your ears
your lungs
and eventually
your blood.

listen to your actions and the way it moves
the air around you and others
understand action like water
can produce a crushing wave or a soothing wash to the shore
with the same quantity of water
it’s all about the tilt of the earth
your earth center.

listen to your heart, beating
a rhythm capable of producing
lullabies of love to a baby
and a drum beat moving others to dance
and others to run.

listen to your faith
the unknown, known only at
the point where
essence and practice intersect.

listen to your sadness and from where it comes
recognize it for what it is
feel its importance in the moment
then, let it go so it can take
its proper place in the universe.

listen to where others are walking
and be assured that although
we may not choose the same path
we are on the same earth
and our paths will intersect
even if it is through the lives of others.

Envisioning What is Possible, Together

In 2004, I was invited to congratulate a class of community Fellows in the upper Northwest who were completing a local fellowship program that brought them together to explore the transformation of their community through collaboration and sharing of resources. This is what I wrote for them...

Fellows, Beloved Family Members, and Community Friends, a good evening to each of you as we gather here to celebrate these Fellows and their commitment to the community. One of my favorite songs by Sweet Honey in the Rock begins by saying…

If you want change in your life, walk into it. If you get on the other side, you will be different. If you want change in your life and you are avoiding the trouble, you can forget it. So as Harriet Tubman would say, “wade on in the water”.

Our dear Fellows have accepted Harriet’s invitation and have made it to the other side. They were different from the moment they chose to say “yes” and make the appropriate arrangements necessary to “wade into it”. For this alone, they deserve a heartfelt applause.

The imagery of wading in the water is powerful. We know that our bodies are made up of 95% water, suggesting that “wading in the water” is an invitation for us to be present. Present in our body, our mind, and our spirit. You may be asking, “What is the benefit of being “present”?” I can only answer from the experiences I have had with others when we have given each other, as That Nich Hahn says, the most precious gift---our presence. Though there are many gifts I experience in those moments, tonight I will name only three…

The first gift I experience is the incredible gift of relief---relief from realizing I am not alone. I am not alone in my daily struggles regarding the responsibilities I hold in my work, in my family, or in my community. Nor am I alone in the questions I have about the decisions I am trying to make in my life personally and professionally. The relief of knowing that I am not alone is enriched by the other person’s relief in knowing that they are also not alone. A reciprocal relief!

The second gift I experience is a deep sense of normality. In those moments I hear my self saying, “Oh, this is normal for me to be experiencing what ever the “issue or emotion” is at the moment.” At a deeper level, I know this “sense of normality” is really a profound awareness of being human. To discover and explore our humanness with another is a sometimes scary and fraught filled proposition. It means we might reveal the ego side that is not always becoming, or that we might expose our true intentions, which are different from how we have been presenting them, or that we might uncover what is truly holding us back from fulfilling why we are here on this earth. When one discovers their own humanness and can recognize this within another, especially one that does not look like them, it is a powerful and life-changing moment that leaves a deep impression.

The third gift is the gift of “deep knowing”. By deep knowing, I mean my intuition is very alert. I move from a place of confidence in making a decision and at a faster speed. My thoughts and actions are guided by the values I hold most dear – the unimportant thoughts fall away – and I am left with only what is vital; the essence of my being. In those moments, I work hard to be mindful of what is happening in my body so that I can create a physical memory that I can recall during those times when my “deep knowing” is needed to guide me.

I have a sense that you Fellows understand what I am talking about. During the last year, you have experienced profound moments of being present with one another. I implore you to treat those experiences as if they are a seed of a large oak tree. Do not let yourself believe for a moment that they required a trained facilitator, a retreat facility, or a monthly gathering to create those bonds. The moment when you share the gift of “presence” with one another you have created a connection that transcends the boundaries of being in a formal “program” – it is a relationship based on fellowship, a word meaning “a partner or shareholder of any kind.” So in essence, the gift of presence is the initiation of a partnership – it is an act that says we have an interest in one another. In the context of the fellowship program, it is a stake grounded in wanting to collectively enrich the community. This leads me to the question, “What is required to enrich community, together?"

Research on collective action states that shared vision and shared values is imperative to be successful in collective endeavors; I would add that a commitment to staying the course you are all called to be on and a sense of adventure is a must.

In 1997 my husband, Ward, and I went on a weekend hiking trip to Mt. Baldly in New Mexico. We chose a hiking trail that we thought would be challenging but doable. Our hiking guidebook forewarned us that the first 1/8 of a mile was extremely difficult but we thought, “It’s only the first 1/8 of a mile of the whole trail and that we can endure.” As we drove up Mt. Baldy, each switchback revealed the vastness of the New Mexico sky and the beauty of rocky pine country. We were happy, enthusiastic, and looking forward to the hike. We parked near the trail head, placed the gear on our backs, and began the climb, which was extremely difficult. Happiness and enthusiasm quickly turned to “Oh, my God, what are we doing?” and “Keep going. Keep going. Stop looking back at the car.” The hike had barely begun.

Longer than expected but shorter than it felt, we finally reached the first crest of the trail. As we looked back at the car with racing hearts and rasping breath, we laughed at how much we had underestimated that first 1/8 of a mile and Ward asked, “Did I want to continue up the mountain to the ridge?” Which I knew had an incredible view. The answer was “yes”. Yes, not to conquer a mountain, or to prove I could do it, or because it was there to do, but a yes, because it took me outside of myself and what I thought was physically and mentally possible for me to do. Even now, I can see me standing at the first crest and standing at the car at the same time—both of me looking at each other. A quantum mechanics moment, knowing both realities existed at the same time and it was I, the observer, which would ultimately determine which reality would manifest in this earthly dimension. I am sure that in many ways, much of this year for you Fellows have paralleled that first 1/8 of a mile. Wondering if you could really do it, what was the point, letting go, and believing, as Alan Watts says, that it is the mountain, as much as your own legs that lifts you upwards and forward.

I would suggest that for the Fellows, the mountain is not just the familiar symbol of the issues you will address, the opponents that you will encounter, or the perception of one’s own might; Instead let the mountain be a symbol of the possible connections between people who stand together and apart on the same land – all of us have the potential to lift us upward and forward. Fellows, it is your charge to create new paths on the mountain that encourages us to come together. It is equally important for you to know the trails that currently exist – the well traveled paths that will beckon you to only tread where there is comfort, security, known elements. Some of these paths lead you to each other, some are dead ends, and others go nowhere.

As graduates of the Community Fellowship Program, you are called, individually and collectively, to discern which of these paths is worthy of your time and energy; you are called to envision the new paths that must be created… together.

May you be blessed by the adventure of creation and may you compassionately extend your hand to another so no one will have to walk alone.

I will close with a poem I wrote a few year's ago for some young leaders from around the country who were honored for their exemplary work in their communities. It is in the style of Pablo Neruda’ Ode’s. Tonight, I dedicate it to the Fellows.

Ode to My Path

Oh my path,
You glorious beacon of light
leading me to my hearts desire,
to my universal invocation.

A brown earthen road
for which my toes to dig
into the earth and
keep my balance.

Oh yes, my path.
The place where I return to
time and time again,
only to find myself
somewhere else completely.

The path with dark places.
Where I feel lost, unsure, unkind.
A path where I persist to feel
found, certain, love.

Oh my path,
You stretch back before time.
When I am present on you,
I can clearly see through rocks
in my view and I bow to all
those who came before.

Like a long road extending
out into the desert landscape,
I see the beauty of my path
moving between rounded
earth and blue sky.

Oh yes, my path.
My refuge, my tempest, my lost and found.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I live you and the universe is fulfilled.