How a Cleaning Lady Can Help You Find Yourself Better Than a Therapist.
One Guy’s Phd: 17 Years of Pretty helpful Discoveries
No, I don’t have a formal PhD. (Barely earned my high-school diploma.) But flipping through my journals from the past 17 years, I noticed a lot of Pretty helpful Discoveries, many I was blind to at the time. Divorce triggered my journey to learn new stuff about myself. I gained a lot by staying open to new experiences — from above, below, cool people, odd shrinks, surreal events, personal injuries and way more. So if you’re into some laughs & new life-learnings through can’t-make-that-shit-up stories, join me. Together, maybe we can make a little more sense of who we are and where we’re headed. Here’s Chapter 2…
Crap. I got a school-maintenance guy and a city administrator in my group, plus a social worker, truck driver, two cooks, some other trades people and a self-employed cleaning lady. No attorneys, artists or doctors at all. This is bullshit. I’ll talk to the group leader to fix this.
Seriously. That’s what I told myself when I first heard who would be in my Circle of Trust®. I had nervously signed up to be a “Focus Person” in a Center for Courage and Renewal retreat. That person sits in the middle of 10ish people who get some guidance on how to empower you to work through a personal issue, often one that has you at a crossroads where a decision needs to be made soon. Big stuff. Which is why I told myself I only wanted who I perceived to be the best and brightest giving me that type of advice. I was wrong on so many levels.
Circle of Trust: “A carefully created space that invites the soul to make itself known.”
That’s exactly what I wanted and totally believed only certain people could make happen. I was convinced that the smarter the person (read, “the more educated the person”) the more likely they could help me (read, “tell me”) what was wrong with me and how I should fix it.
Big mistake. I was committed to finding external solutions to my problems. Who isn’t? It’s the quick fix, right? And if you’re changing based on what others tell you to do, maybe you’re not really changing anything significant on the inside. Perfect. The less work, the better. I just wanted results.
Before heading out to my Circle of Trust on Bainbridge Island WA, I read Parker Palmer’s book, A Hidden Wholeness, and learned about the divided life:
Afraid that our inner light will be extinguished, or our inner darkness exposed, we hide our true identities and become separated from our own souls. We end up leading divided lives, far removed from our birthright wholeness… I pay a steep price when I live a divided life, feeling fraudulent, anxious about being found out, and depressed by the fact that I am denying my own selfhood. The people around me pay a price as well, for now they walk on ground made unstable by my dividedness.
Couldn’t have described my life better.
18: When I first felt I lost the connection between my soul and role.
Back in Grade 4 (grew up in Toronto, eh), I read my short story, “Coffee Mate” to my classmates who totally loved it. They cheered after the last line. My buddies punched me on my way back to my desk. A few girls flashed flirty smiles at the nine-year-old author in their midst. Everyone buzzed about my story for a bit before the next kid was up. (I can still feel all of this as if it happened hours ago: the Circle of Trust people call this “a seed of your true self.”)
I continued to write stories like a mofo through elementary and high-school. Got tons of compliments for my work. My Grade 13 English teacher said, “John, you are writer.” He was the first person to call me that to my face.
My mom and dad never did. They wanted me to be a doctor, lawyer, architect, pilot or some presumably esteemed professional like that. (See why I wanted those types in my Circle of Trust?) I listened to my parents more than anyone. (Even though I knew they had led totally divided lives.) Went to York University for business. Graduated with a Political Science degree. Sold real estate for two years. Got a job in advertising and worked in that industry for decades. Sure I was a copywriter but I always schlepped other people’s products and services, never my own ideas. I’ve felt that I tore apart my soul and role the day I choose to attend business school vs. tending to my artistic calling.
Banking on Bainbridge Island to rejoin my divided life.
Everything about my journey to my Circle of Trust on Bainbridge Island was epic. The boat ride from Seattle west to Hornbecks Split sixty minutes away was a rejuvenating start. To me, I wasn’t just crossing the Puget Sound on a commuter ferry, I was cruising across my own great divide, sailing toward the possibility of my true nature. Corny as shit, I know. But something was stirring inside.
Then after a half-day getting to know everyone and basking in the fertile, fragrant forest that cradled IslandWood retreat center where we were staying, shit got real.
“All right everyone, let’s move into our Circles,” the director instructed.
“Uhh, Marcy, can we talk for a sec?”
“Sure John, what is it?”
“I’m concerned about my group members. I, ummm, would prefer to mix mine up a bit. You know, sprinkle in some other perspectives that could help me more.”
“Got it. The groups are set and were created at random. A lot like how the right people show up in our lives at the right time. But let me see here…”
I could tell she had dealt with my kind of arrogant cold feet before but I thought I had made my point. Changes were coming. The “right” people would be reassigned to my group. Wrong again.
“John, I double-checked to confirm everyone in your Circle of Trust made it to Bainbridge. That’s the main thing. You have 10 amazing people here for you.”
“But I was just thinking…”
“Remember John, a Circle of Trust is not defined by who is in it, rather, it’s defined by the nature of the space it creates among us. At this point, I would urge you to stop thinking and trust the process. Can you do that?”
Since people were already moving toward their designated group areas, I figured this was an opportunity to save face and go with the flow even though I was totally pissed.
In my most divided voice ever, I heard myself mutter, “OK Marcy. Thanks”.
What I learned in the next three hours is alive within me to this day.
It guides how I listen to and learn from others, how I best listen to myself:
1. Your soul knows your needs better than anyone. Making space for the inner teacher is what’s most important. Staring at the stoic truck driver sit still with the stability of doing so on long hauls across the country, my own trust in this process solidified. Doctors be damned! I was on a personal journey of self-discovery supported by strangers who believed their presence alone could help me. They were right.
2. Trust Focus People to do their own sifting and winnowing. “No fixing, saving, advising or correcting!” is the instruction to group members. I gushed about my issues. I waited for answers from the cooks: I thought the social worker wouldn’t be able to resist. But none came so I had only one choice: go deeper to find my own answers.
3. Trust and learn from silence. I know I’ve been guilty of “listening to answer” vs. genuinely listening to others. The power of the cleaning lady who said very little but smiled with a penetrating warmth every time I got closer to my own truth was amazing.
Those were the three Circle of Trust Touchstones that helped me the most.
The group who was there for me that day put me a path to follow through with my post-retreat priorities. The Focus People were asked to document and mail them to ourselves. Here are mine I found in a yellowing envelope, complete with brittle moss from the forest floor:
My learnings centered on finding answers inside of me instead of looking for others to give me the perfect ones. (Ain’t happening!) That released me from waiting for — especially on “educated” others — to tell me what’s right for me. It’s funny. Over the years, some of my best personal advisors have been cleaning folks I’ve got to know while putting in late hours at the office.
My mom who passed a few months ago was also a cleaning lady. Sadly, I’m not sure I ever really gave her the chance to help me discover the real me.
Sure I’ve turned to others for guidance over the years. But only doing so with the realization I’m fully stocked with the wisdom to lead an undivided life. The only help I really need is tapping that hidden wholeness.
Two years of Landmark Education were next… wait ’til you see the notes I wasn’t supposed take on that learning journey!
Follow me now.
I’ll share a couple of new stories each week, but what I’m really excited about, is reading your stories awakened by mine.
