Don't Go Back to Sleep
A few years ago I was a senior advisor for an internal government planning event. As we began the day-long session, I became uncomfortable with the amount of tension I could feel in the group. I carefully interrupted the facilitator to make this request: "I’d like it if we could each share a bit of where we are at this morning, and how this day-long planning session is impacting us. I, myself, am feeling a little worried about the upcoming transition our department is going through, and as the newest member of the team, I'd like to hear how others are feeling."
The facilitator paused, the room went silent, and I waited, hyper-aware of every millisecond that passed. My heart was racing, and I felt the vulnerability behind my courage in bringing this up. My confidence, that my humanity would be met in some fashion, wobbled. "We have a long schedule today and we should move forward" was the reply, and the facilitator carried on with the session. My heart stopped, I smiled nervously and sat back. I felt my anger rise. I stopped listening, focusing on my increased breathing and heart rate. I remembered times in the past when I’d felt similarly unmet.
Maybe, I told myself, a government setting is not the best place to introduce a personal check-in. Over the years, I'd noticed the accepted culture was based on disconnective routines: you just put your head down, got the job done, focused on your retirement savings plan. Why had I imagined this planning session would be any different? I sat there noticing my anger, and began to breathe deeper, let go, and soften. I was proud of my bravery, of naming the unnameable. In that moment, I realized that I needed a new career, one where I could meet and be met as a human, not just as a colleague. 10 minutes later, another team member was crying, expressing her fear about the upcoming transition. She thanked those who had supported her, and once again, the room fell silent. No one responded to her. The facilitator simply continued the session.
I’ve worked in many government offices and felt … well, frustrated. Think the movie “Office Space,” or the UK sitcom "Yes, Minister." I liken it to sitting in a prison cell anticipating the fight-or-flight reactions of the “reptilian brain” that prevail among the other inmates. I’m told this is true for many, if not most, of the disconnective workplaces of western society.
For many reasons, I left that kind of government work. The financial stability it afforded me came at too high a cost to my mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being. And this week, while resting quietly, I had a scary revelation. I now have no choice. I cannot go back to a career based on disconnection. My body rejects the idea. I can no longer imagine working somewhere that does not invite me to build social capital, use compassionate communication, address interpersonal shadows as they arise, and avoid habitual reactive patterns. I have awoken to a new way. I cannot go back to sleep, to participate in this old way of “work”, that I have been brought into.
In recent years, my wife and I have been searching for a new place with a culture of safety, vulnerability, and trust. We yearned to be part of – or even facilitate – the awakening of sustainable communities. During our transition, I thought several times that if it became financially necessary, I could take another government job, since my prior experience would easily allow me to step back in.
But that’s not the case. To ensure my own personal resilience, I’ve begun building up my cultural skills in Non-Violent Communication, the Way of Council, and Joanna Macy’s Work that Re-Connects, and balancing my masculine & feminine energies within me. And I still have a lifetime of work to do. I have come too far to be able to go back. My spirit is no longer willing to put up with the old patterns so prevalent in a society that disconnects. And it is scary and humbling to realize that I cannot turn back, I cannot go back to sleep.
“Don't go Back to Sleep”
Jelaluddin Rumi
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the door sill
Where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.