Month: July 2020

How do we hold on to the insights and worldview shifts that the past months have sparked in many of us? How do we stay committed to “building back better”, to resist being seduced into the comfort of what was before?

In an online event I participated in earlier this week, someone responded by sharing a phrase that lingered on in my mind long after:

Remain in a state of blessed unrest.

An internet search revealed the source – Martha Graham, as recounted in her biography by fellow choreographer Agnes de Mille on the creative artist never being satisfied:

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. […]

No artist is pleased […] There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.

I had to dig a little to find this, and I love that the first result that popped up was actually environmentalist Paul Hawken’s 2007 book Blessed Unrest: how the largest social movement in history is restoring grace, justice and beauty to the world. He explains in a short video – worth watching in its entirety – why he chose it as his title, weaving a thread from the abolitionists through to today’s social and environmental justice activists, all committed to “acting in such a way that allows others to be free”:

It seemed to me “blessed unrest” was a term that had arms big enough to hold the diversity and the depth and the heart of this movement.

I’ve always been in a state of unrest, often searching, rarely satisfied for long. I used to worry that something was wrong with me, until my sister a few years back said in one of our protracted intercontinental conversations: “it’s what makes you who you are”.

And now I can put a name to it.

What are you doing to remain in a state of blessed unrest?

I’ve been faced in recent weeks with deciding which meta-stable states to hang out in as the lockdown here in France has been progressively lifted.  

Between the two extremes of social isolation and joining in the summer festivities – and I have people in my network pulling me in both directions – are a myriad of possible balanced approaches.

To help clear my mental fog before taking a decision on how to act – whether that be voicing my discomfort in a group at the lack of physical distancing, wearing a mask when noone else is, or visiting older family and friends – I’m asking myself these questions:

What are the facts?

What stories have I been listening to, what emotions have they surfaced, and how might these affect my risk perception in this moment?

What other blind spots do I need to consider, especially the power of social norms?

What is the risk of not acting to myself and others? What is the benefit?

What is the risk of acting to myself and others? What is the benefit?

What is the level of risk that I’m currently willing to accept, knowing that there is no zero risk?

What is my inner compass telling me to do?

Am I ready to let go of the outcome?

What questions are helping you navigate through risk and uncertainty?