Saturday, November 17, 2012

AUTHENTIC LIVING

By Marva Allen – CEO, Hue-Man Bookstore, NYC


As Sandy whipped New York and the East coast into a frenzy, I had a moment to pause. The effect of Sandy, depending on where you were, was either a day of rest or a devastating blow. My prayers go out to those whose lives were altered. I was safe, tucked away under my comforter watching Netflix. On and off as I watched the news updates I felt pride in our government and public service personnel. Yet I was saddened. It should not take a natural disaster for us to show care and solidarity to our fellow citizens.

Just the day before Hurricane Sandy my dear friend called for advise about a mean spirited correspondence she had received. I was taken aback by the evil tone of the email. Such ungracious behavior is characteristic of our increasing glib and disrespectful society. With all the noise of life in today's "modern" world, the distasteful vitriol of the Presidential elections, the ugliness of America's original sin rearing its head, the selfishness, haughtiness and insincerity of our fellow man where rudeness has outstripped graciousness, how do we navigate our lives with grace?

Must we always have a disaster to humble us and remind us that we are but a minor spec in the divine order of the universe. No technology, no political debate, no power seizing or greedy Wall Street grubbers could have done a single thing to stop Sandy. Nature is out of their influence in a call and response way. So where does all this vitriol get us?

The result of this top down lack of care for our fellowman has plummeted American productivity and competitiveness to number 25 in the world. Workers and consumers, alike, betrayed by the "system" are defecting from corporate America and taking their own destiny in hand by becoming entrepreneurs. Those 53%ers who are probably responsible for the erosion of natures balance anyway, from too much logging, too much drilling, too much mining, too much pollution and too much greed are going to have to have 'a come to Jesus moment'. Their Sandy might not be so lenient.

As ordinary citizens we have played the game badly and we have been checkmated. The blame game and occupy whatever is not the solution yet it should be a strong reminder of how we have abandoned critical thinking and logic to follow the power structure like zombies. So if my theory is right and we are co-conspirators in our own demise, it is because we are not living our authentic life.

Our authentic life, a guide to our best selves, will not allow us harm or hurt others. It is the life that recognizes that we are all one, and a life that promotes harmony, peace and understanding. The third law of thermodynamics says that energy can neither be created or destroyed, only transformed ... let Hurricane Sandy be a reminder for us to transform our energies from negative to positive.

Let us be grateful for the life we have kept for another day and live it boldly, lovingly and fearlessly. And if you have hurt someone ... let him or her know how sorry you are, forgive yourself and move on with your life with spiritual elegance.

My book of the month, “The Happiness Advantage” is a good place to start for finding happiness and contentment in your life. Your happiness will spill over to all you meet along the way…this is called authentic living.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

The Empathy Paradox: Mastering Empathy for Others Begins With Knowing Yourself

Tahoe is my place for self-reflection – where is yours?


By Michael Zakaras
Michael is a writer and strategist who specializes in social entrepreneurship and public policy and works with ASHOKA.


I recently returned from a week at Lake Tahoe, where I’ve spent a piece of every summer with my family since I was five years old. My uncle has a cabin on the lake, and it’s unlike any other house I know because I exist there not only in the present but also in the past.

When I'm there, I feel the younger versions of myself accompanying me. On my first dive off the rock, they dive with me, filled with fear and joy and anticipation. I surface in the same bone-chilling water. My brother surfaces beside me. My parents look down from the deck, watching as always. The words permanence and continuity are abstractions. But there, at Tahoe, they come to life.



Tahoe is where I slow down, where I don’t chase things but let them come to me, and where I’ve developed values and ways of being that I have brought back to the rest of my life. It’s where I learned to be fulfilled by living simply: there has never been a TV at the house, and there are no tight schedules or fixed plans. Each part of the day simply eases into the next. We swim and hike and canoe, but most of our hours are filled with communal cooking, leisurely family meals, reading, and storytelling. And there’s an abundance of open time: for listening, for watching, for reflection. I’ll often bring a book and sit between two pines at the water’s edge only to never open it.
In this way, each summer gives me a chance to pull back from my immersion into the everyday world of school or work—of constant activities—and to ask myself what's been really good and what hasn't, and what should be changed. In recent years especially, as a young adult, I've gained a great deal of understanding from these times of quiet reflection. Tahoe serves as a retreat from which I return renewed and replenished for the rest of the year.

In the end, my uncle’s house is the place where I know myself best. My summers there have helped me look at my life as a whole picture. I take on different roles in the world, but I'm always a son and brother in our family. And more recently, a husband. I can put my latest successes and disappointments into a long-term perspective. I can see how much I've changed with every summer, and I can see how much, for better or worse, I've remained the same.


Empathy is ultimately other-regarding, but I’m convinced that mastering it begins with understanding yourself – your emotions, your desires, your flaws. And for me, it includes understanding how lucky I am to have Tahoe in the first place. In this way, empathy is hard: it takes awareness and perspective. It takes space. But in our world of relentless demands and distractions, it’s far easier to become self-absorbed than self-aware. Which is why it’s essential that we create this space for ourselves – in big ways and small – so that we can use our understanding of ourselves to better understand and serve others.