These reflections came in response to a request for an article on Spiritual Leadership for the Canadian Unitarian…
Precious revelation of spiritual leadership came to me on the yoga mat. Running a small yoga studio and teaching many classes each week while moving through the ending of my marriage had been both profoundly challenging and deeply healing. One evening after class a student quietly approached me to say, “I know this has been a difficult time for you, but you are present with such grace for every class and I see it’s possible to find some peace even when things are hard.”
Humbled and blessed by her words, I recalled how often I’d invited everyone to take a few extra breaths between postures because I was finding my own. I remembered how the service of teaching had given me respite from my spinning thoughts, calling me to pay attention just to this one breath, then the next, and the next. I knew that over and over again I had shared with others the words I most needed to hear: “There is no place else to be, nothing you need to fix or change to begin this practice. Give yourself permission to be here just as you are.”
Months later, I spent a week at a second Yin Yoga training, exploring how we show up as teachers. We asked questions. Am I putting myself on my own path or am I learning more about someone else’s? Am I running toward or running away? Am I willing to look again, to not be right, to not be the one who knows? Am I willing to approach everyone and everything with honour and respect? One of our teachers spoke of the Dalai Lama, saying, “He’s making a difference because he’s showing up in the world as he is. He’s showing up from his heart.”
I began to consider that spiritual leadership is not about losing all of our baggage, doubt, and uncertainty so that we can bring an all-knowing, never-erring presence to our communities. I started to grow into the concept that spiritual leadership is more about serving with awareness and humility as a compassionate witness to our shared human experience, indeed that we come into leadership the moment we dare not to be ahead of others but rather to be awake and present with them.
When I returned as a religious educator to the First Unitarian Congregation of Ottawa last fall, I brought these evolving insights with me and I am watching how they shine a light on connections with others. I am learning that resisting the urge to dispense advice and instead listening, asking questions, and reflecting back creates openings to consider new options. I notice that my holding less tightly to some details allows others to share their creativity and resources. By extending the invitation to speak honestly about what we are able to offer at different times given what is happening in our lives and with our families, I participate in the development of sensitive, compassionate community that gets things done but doesn’t burn us out. I see that leadership lies not in knowing it all and having it all done yesterday, but in showing up attentively and nurturing a space where people can contribute and share authentically.
Ram Dass writes, “Your work is to practice contentment and surrender…Even when bad times or painful things come up, let yourself be with them as fierce grace.” To me, this is the work of spiritual leadership: letting go of the need to know everything, becoming alive to seeing what is, and both witnessing and responding to each moment with the compassionate awareness of the heart.
