The art of possibility

A lot of books get written. A few stick around. This is one.

I remember books by the amount of underlining, starring, bracketing and meta-linking I impose during a first read. Remember this strand. Note that declaration corresponds with something DeMello said. My calculation for a revered book is based on how much more of the tapestry it reveals connecting all I've read.

Only a few others (Grudin's Grace of Great Things, Lamott's Bird by Bird) have elicited as much of my filigree as Roz and Ben Zander's The Art of Possibility.

It was first published 13 years ago. The leading edge of the Internet was slicing across cultures. So much seemed even more possible.I read The Art of Possibility during June and July 2013, and its core premise—that we can choose to operate our whole lives and communities from possibility—resonates with an ageless truth. I wish I had read this book 13 years ago!

The Zanders posit possibility's attractive foil as the world of measurement, i.e. How things (especially other people's actions) stack up. They write, "...In the world of measurement, we live in the illusion that we have only ourselves to rely on..."

Measurement pits teacher above student to evaluate outcome. Possibility aligns teacher and student in revelation and enlightenment. Possibility speaks to passion. Measurement encourages cynicism. Possibility embraces ideas, asking for more. Measurement limits them. This isn't to say the world of measurement is wrong. The Zanders articulate and value standards, systems and criteria—just not as the core from which to be in the world. Their third practice, Giving an A, suggests,

"When you give an A, you find yourself speaking to people not from a place of measuring how they stack up against your standards, but from a place of respect that gives them room to realize themselves. Your eye is on the statue within the roughness of the uncut stone."

Yes, the glass is half full! After all, if we're focused on measuring the empty half, we are spending an awful lot of effort to measure nothing at all.I also appreciated their clarification of the calculating versus central self. The calculating self has to measure, compare, and inevitably notice unfairness. It is Rick Carson's Gremlin. The central self is attuned to a longer, more resilient flow of energy. Guess which leads to more ideas; to embraced ideas!Of the 12 practices—the collective Art—of Possibility, Being the Board inspired me the most.

"Gracing yourself with responsibility for everything that happens in your life leaves your spirit whole, and leaves you free to choose again."

It is a courageous approach they suggest to, "...ask yourself, in regard to the unwanted circumstances, '...how is it that I have become a context for that to occur?'"

Fascinating!