Notes from the clearing #1

The importance of private ritual

When I invite people to go through the clear ideas process, one element of the process is turning your attention away from the world and focusing on ‘what you already know’.

As far as possible I try not to fall into hackneyed introspection jargon (“listen to your soul’s mission…”, or “tune into your higher purpose” or whatever). It feels like it’s too easy to end up telling slightly thoughtless stories about how our inner lives are and how they work. Instead, I like to keep things as practical and obvious as possible. Most of the time, we are looking to the world. Making sure we don’t trip over. Choosing what bread to buy. Seeing who is around. Checking if dinner is ready. But, when it comes to getting clear on what we need or want — the world can’t help us. No one else can tell us. When the question is ‘Is this what I want?’ the answer isn’t going to be found anywhere but right here in me. Where else could it be?

So — because it’s *so* easy to focus outwards, we have no trouble turning our attention there. To our surroundings. To our friends. To our phones. Especially to the phones. And, because that comes so easily, that’s why it pays to carve out time specifically for the other. Specifically for tending to what’s going on ‘inside’. In a culture that might not value quiet, disconnected, solitary introspection, we have to value that for ourselves. We have to create the conditions that prioritise it. That dignify and prize it. And that is the job of private ritual.

I don’t have a very refined definition of what a private ritual is. I haven’t researched ritual and the theory of it or anything like that. (My friend Viktor, on the other hand, totally has. And if you’d like to learn what he knows, find him here.)

But I do know that my work, the quality of my work and the success of my work all depend on the quality of my mind. They depend on how clear I am. On how well I’m listening to myself. How well I am picking up on the subtle signals. How open I am to the detail of my intuition.

And I know that the things that generally call on my attention in an everyday way (phone alerts, door bell, billboards, email inbox, domestic chores — whatever) are unlikely to nurture that quality of mind. More likely they’ll degrade it in some way. Either very directly (like a pop-up advert designed specifically to grab and redirect your attention) — or just by being interesting, diverting things that keep my mind directed outward and neglecting the material I might uncover were my mind directed inward.

So, if I want to improve the quality of my mind (not for the sake of it — but for the effect it has on what I bring to the world the rest of the day), then I can’t rely on those usual everyday circumstances to do the job. Rather, I have to create the conditions myself. With a bit of private ritual.

Taking the time to go through the clear ideas process in the morning might be a private ritual (there are plenty of people who use the process that way). And a bit of quiet meditation might be a private ritual. Or going for a walk before the day starts or after the day is over.

In the end though, I’m not even sure it matters what you choose to do. What matters is the attitude that prizes and sees the potential of taking a little time and softly turning your attention to yourself. The attitude that tends to what’s going on here and now. What wants to happen. What’s calling for attention. What’s needed. And, again, I don’t even thinking finding out what’s going on is what matters. What matters is the attitude. Letting yourself spend a little time hanging out and listening to yourself— in a spirit of curiosity and care.

I find that working with other people can be so fulfilling that, sometimes, when my work doesn’t involve helping someone else it can feel a little flat. Working with someone else you get to see their reactions. Maybe they tell you that it was helpful. Maybe you get to hang out and have coffee with them and feel like you’re plugged into the world and making things happen and being valuable… And that’s all fine and lovely, but not if it means that quiet moments of doing nothing and sitting alone quietly end up undervalued. when it starts going that way, then being with people and helping people can just turn into a way to avoid being alone. Can turn into a subtle addiction. It can end up feeling like the valuable work is only happening when there is someone else around.

But — more and more — it seems to me that the most valuable work is cultivating that attitude of quiet inner listening. Because everything else stands on that. Whether you’re an artist or a builder or a doctor or a politician or whatever, working well means making decisions well. And making decisions well depends on the capacity for clarity that arises from our ability to listen to ourselves with great subtlety.

Being clear is a skill you can learn. Find out more at www.howtobeclear.com.