BUT FIRST, LISTEN
How do we stay grounded in times of crisis? When everything is shifting beneath us, keeping ourselves calm and connected is one of the biggest challenges that we face in life.
A while back I went to hear a talk by the esteemed psychic Laura Day. She’s authored a legion of best-selling books, including Practical Intuition, and is employed by companies and governments around the world to help intuit the future. She’s tall and striking and has an unmistakable mystique about her. I was in awe of her energy.
After her talk concluded, she walked by me in the theater, stopped, put her hand on my forehead and said, “You my dear, you need to become more grounded.”
It’s not about denying your innate exposure, it’s about leveraging it for success.
There is no denying that by nature we are vulnerable. As human beings and social creatures, we are naturally open to attack and capable of being hurt. But it is also true that by nature we don’t want to be attacked or hurt. As a result we find we’re always doing all we can to protect ourselves and hide what we see as our weakness.
Herein lies the vulnerability paradox. To be innately vulnerable while denying our vulnerability seems to be what is at the heart of being human, and more so, of being a leader.
The more we deny our vulnerability, the less influence we have on the world, the people around us, and ourselves. The more we hide away from what makes us feel uncomfortable, the less fulfillment and connection we experience.
Rarely do we solve problems by staring at a screen. Our best ideas come when we step away and look out - when we daydream. Here's some steps to do so.
Riding the subway home the other day I caught myself daydreaming. It was a wonderful feeling. The rattling of the train, the faces and the sounds around me ... all of them slipped away as my brain turned in on itself. I felt my ideas start to wander. I felt the joy of discovery, watching where my brain roamed free of my own judgement, free to just be.
I used to daydream all the time. I was known for it back in high school in Australia. I remember sitting cross-legged in a circle of girlfriends. Everyone would be talking and I would zone out. My friends knew the look — my gaze went distant, my eyes stopped blinking.