Go with the Flow

Martha McCormick on October 28, 2011

At the end of August, Kate and I drove to New York City. The trip was going smoothly as we approached the exit toward Brooklyn where a worker and three orange cones blocked the way. “Closed due to flooding,” Hurricane Irene whirled through the city about a week before we did.

“I’m going with the flow this trip,” but as we got ourselves un-lost in the unmarked streets in urban New Jersey, and flew along upper levels of the freeway, it was hard to believe my driving skills were up to the challenge. Riding the subway during rush hour on my first trip to NYC in 1976 wasn’t nearly so stressful. Overwhelmed by the crush, a native turned to me, “just go with the flow.”

That’s a very different kind of flow than Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi described in his 1991 book, Flow. He heads the Quality of Life Research Center at Claremont University in California. This TED talk is a great introduction to the requirements of flow. A key element of happiness, anyone can experience flow.

We are in flow when we’re completely engrossed in what we’re doing. When the challenge of the task matches our abilities to meet that challenge. It can happen in work or off the job.

It’s our job in adventure programming to create flow. To give participants challenges they can achieve, but that will take them out of their comfort zone. help them suspend disbelief. Eric taught me a lot about the time factor in facilitating. It’s better to end early than even a little late. People won’t stay engaged when they’re worrying about the time. Concluding and reflecting only happen while people are fully engaged.

I always want to do what I’m doing until I’m done, to do just one more thing. When Kate was growing up, and we were running late as we often did, we would say “time is not only relative, but simply an invention to keep everything from happening at once.”

Blue Zones research recommends we designate a “flow room” where we can immerse ourselves in activities that consume our attention. I plan to organize my studio to be the center for painting, sewing and projects that I originally envisioned, rather than the catchall it’s become. The last two days, I’ve painted the jetties, and the row of green umbrellas lining the beach. The first day was stormy at sea, and my painting is stormy too. For me, that painting captures the connection between creativity and flow.

Flow comes when our work makes us happy, contributes to society, and is its own reward. I’ve experienced it writing a grant that fit perfectly the organization’s mission. The feeling the grant was writing itself. I didn’t have to pull at the words like taffy.

When I’m out in my kayak, I totally lose track of time. I’m not distracted. I don’t check the clock. I’m not afraid. I’m exhilarated. That’s flow.

 

 

Mind the Gap

Martha McCormick on October 8, 2011

“Mind the gap” was the theme of the John Friend yoga workshop I attended a couple weeks ago. The message is that what happens between, is what’s important. Between inhaling and exhaling. Between the busy-ness and the being-ness. Between the effort and the letting go. The subways in London warn you to “Mind the Gap.” In NYC, you are to “Watch the Gap.” Not nearly as poetic, nor as relevant.

Watching implies seeing, but if you mind something, you do more than just see it. You pay attention. You listen. You ponder what it means. You take responsibility. You mind the children. You mind your parents. The dictionary says you “regard as important and worthy of attention.” That’s exactly what Friend had in mind at “Dancing with the Divine.”

I’ve been practicing yoga at Shakti Yoga Shop for nearly two years. It is an Anusara shop, and John Friend is the founder of this particular branch of yoga. His visit to Iowa was a chance to learn from the guru. I went with a certain cynicism. My expectations were low, but he was amazing, and far exceeded those expectations.

Friend has a quirky sense of humor, and a depth of knowledge about a broad range of astrophysics to zoology. One of the funniest bits was when he gave us a physical demonstration of how humans are the only critters with shoulder muscles. The message was clear. We’ve got them so we need to develop them. He talked quite a bit about what we do with our bodies has a nearly immediate effect on evolution. Our genes remember our behavior.

On that Saturday afternoon, Friend talked about the increasing weight of the self-help book section addressing mindfulness. It’s a good thing, but these books usually focus on minding what you are doing or what’s happening. If you’re minding the gap, you’re paying attention to what’s not happening. On the resting. On the being, not just the doing.

Friday morning when I called my mentor, I was in a dither. The condition of the house was interfering with my serenity in a big way. She told me “go outside. Not to do something, not to make a list of what you need to do, just to be.”

I sat down in my hammock, with my phone still to my ear, and immediately felt the weight lift. Pat said she felt tears come to her eyes, hearing the relief in my voice. I minded the gap. First I had to create it. Then I paid attention to it. I lay down and looked up at the bright blue gap between the Locust and Pin Oak trees above me. And I minded it.

Afterwards I was able to return to the busy-ness of the day, to put things away, organize the house. And I was able to find some more gaps and mind them too.