Kerri Kelly, of Off the Mat, Into the World, teaches yoga at the Huffington Post Oasis at the DNC

Some of you already know I’ve been involved with Off the Mat, Into the World for the past four years. As someone who is passionate about justice, and who sees that central government can – and does – play a critical role in either obstructing or enabling greater social and economic and justice in the community, I was encouraged by Off the Mat’s willingness to get engaged with the political process in the US this year in the form of YogaVotes.

The goal of YogaVotes?

To awaken a new demographic of mindful voters—sparking higher voter turnout among the 20 million Americans who practice yoga.

As Seane Corn has so often said: awareness, connection, and participation are core elements of yoga – and they can be core elements of how we organise ourselves as democratic societies. This, as I understand it, is the intention of YogaVotes:

• Firstly, to encourage Americans who practice yoga to vote, and in doing so to consider how their yoga practice – and the values and principles that underpin it – might inform their vote; and
• Secondly, to bring the practices and values of yoga and mindfulness to the political process.

Which is how Seane, and my friend Kerri Kelly, ended up teaching yoga at the Republican National Convention. And how they ended up on the receiving end of some strong – and snarky – criticism.

After years working in the aid and humanitarian sector, I’m extremely familiar with snark. It’s pretty much the modus operandi of the aid sector. But I’m not a fan. Snark is criticism plus sarcasm. It’s dismissive and divisive, and neither of those are easy to align with the core values of yoga.

One yoga blogger said of OTM’s role at the conventions:

The only thing more embarrassing than Clint Eastwood’s rambling and incoherent speech was the Huffington Oasis, an Off The Mat, Into The World collaboration with the Huffington Post.

Another critic wrote:

In closing, it is the belief of The Babarazzi that Sean Corn’s publicity stunt is one of the greatest and most awesomest fuck-ups mainstream yoga has ever accomplished … and could only come from the minds of silly heads bent on creating more silly head money.

Wow. Them’s some angry words. Some divisive and sarcastic words.

Here’s the thing. I think there are important questions to ask about whether there is a place for the practice of yoga in the modern Western ‘democratic’ system. I think there are valid questions to ask about whether the system is so profoundly flawed that we might choose not to engage with it at all, and instead begin a movement for a new – truely engaged, unified and participatory – system of communal decision-making.

And I think that we can have that debate without attacking each other. I think we can and should approach these issues with intellectual rigour and careful critique. And I think we can ask those questions with humility, generosity and kindness. The same blogger said, in a comment on her own post:

If yoga wants to play in politricks, which it does by throwing spa-parties for Conservative conventions, than it has entered the political discourse, and made itself available to being dissected in the rich language and discourse of political theory and op/ed.

I agree. So I’m going to put aside for a moment the snark, and try to address the real concerns. Because there are some and they deserve serious consideration.

One of the key criticisms in that post was that there was no need for the provision of access to mindfulness practices, in this situation, since everyone at the convention is already so privileged that they have access, by the very nature of their social and economic status.

It’s an important point. But it relies on a specific and relatively narrow definition of ’access’. And it makes certain assumptions about who might be at a political convention, assumptions which I have no way of testing. Is everyone at the convention rich? Even the interns? Have they all come from privileged backgrounds in which taking time out to care for their body, mind and spirit would be culturally encouraged, or even accepted? What barriers, other than poverty and political disenfranchisement, could stand in the way of someone taking up a personal mindfulness practice?

There is certainly an argument to be made that limited resources need to be prioritised for the least well-resourced communities. One interesting feature of the set-up at the Oasis at the RNC and DNC, however, is that Huffington Post paid OTM $40k to provide yoga classes. OTM was able to provide the classes through the contribution of volunteer teachers so the $40k could be re-directed into other programs, such as the Empowered Youth Initiative. So the provision of these services at the conventions actually constituted a fund-raising activity for OTM, funds that will be spent on programs that do the sorts of things many critics of the Oasis say OTM should be doing instead.

As Babarazzi said:

When a yoga practitioner ventures into the territory of homelessness, poverty, and prisons in order to teach the traditional practice of asana and meditation, this practitioner is making accessible something that was previously not.

The irony is that Seane Corn, and OTM generally, became convinced of the need to engage with the political process as a result of spending many years venturing “into the territory of homelessness, poverty, and prisons in order to teach the traditional practice of asana and meditation”. What they realised, was that for change to happen they needed to engage with the power structures that created and recreated the situations in which they found themselves continually playing a ‘service’ role.

YogaVotes, and the presence of Off the Mat, Into the World yoga teachers at the RNC and DNC, evolved out of many years of Off the Mat’s work in and with communities who experience the sharp end of policies on poverty, justice, health and education. And Off the Mat continues to put a lot of energy and resources in to programmes like the Empowered Youth Initiative – which includes ‘a process of mutual inquiry with the young people they wish to serve.

I agree very strongly with one commentor on the Babarazzi post who said:

Political action aligned with yogic values, in my mind, means addressing structures that enable economic inequality, environmental devastation, racial and gender inequality etc to grow and persist… we should not confuse yoga service efforts with political action. They are very different beasts and it is dangerous to lead yoga practitioners to think that political action is sharing yoga class with kids from the hood while they have no awareness of the structures that create the hood in the first place or how their daily lives contribute to that system.

Yes! This is an incredibly important point, and the kind of issue that I would love to see us debate – with respect, compassion and humility – within the yoga community generally. And this is being debated and discussed in the OTM community.

This is why the Empowered Youth Initiative includes ‘a process of mutual inquiry with the young people they wish to serve, why it ‘focuses on exploring the dynamics that surround disenfranchised urban and suburban youth in the United States’ and why it ‘aims at addressing the larger context.’ Because:

The more we as conscious activists can understand this larger socio-economic and political context, the more effective we can be in serving this community.

Given my own experiences with human rights and social activism – ranging from working directly with disenfranchised communities to developing and implementing national advocacy programmes – I know it takes a lot of different change levers, activated at a lot of different levels, for unjust power structures and systems to be altered.

We can ask critical questions about the political and power implications of our choices of strategy. We can stay in open, humble conversation about what we are and are not really achieving. We can learn, from each other and from our own mistakes. And, as yogis, I hope we can do this in a spirit of kindness. Because if there is one comment, in all of this, that I disagree with most strongly – it is this – from a commentor on Babarazzi’s post:

We can’t be so naive as to think simple kindness has any effect in this situation.

I’ve seen the power of simple kindness in some of the most violent and hate-ridden settings imaginable. It is not a cure-all, and it is not an excuse for not doing careful analysis of the power dynamics into which we may be wading. But it always has an effect. Always. And often it has a much greater effect that we credit.

The planet doesn’t need more ‘successful’ people. But it does desperately need more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of every shape and form. It needs people who will live well in their places. It needs people of moral courage willing to join the fight to make the world habitable and humane. And these needs have little to do with success as our culture has defined it.

- David Orr in Earth in Mind

Forget success.

Make it your mission to be brave.

Forget your job title.

Listen for your callings.

Forget wealth.

Learn to live well in your place.

Forget marketing.

Find and tell the stories that will heal you.

Forget popularity.

Let yourself love foolishly.

This is what the world needs from you.

—

Thanks to Gizem Onay for the quote. 

Portland is one of my favorite places in the whole world. Partly because some of my favorite people in the world live there, partly because of the food (if you go to Portland please eat tacos here, Thai here, Indian street food here, pie here and icecream here) and partly because of all the bike lanes.

I’m coming to realise that I’m a repressed cycle-lover and the only reason I have never fully embraced my love of cycling is that I live in Wellington, a city blessed by steep hills, narrow streets and a Southerly wind that can blow a grown man off his feet. In Portland I rode a borrowed bike everywhere. And loved it.

This year I planned my annual visit to Portland (this was my 7th year in a row visiting PDX) to coincide with a certain summit that you may have heard of. This summit was organised and hosted by Chris Guillebeau, whose work I admire greatly. He’s smart, generous and I know I have a lot to learn from him.

Chris also lives in Portland, which just goes to prove how smart he is.

I decided to attend the summit this year because a lot of people who I like very much were going to be there, and because I really wanted to hear Brene Brown speak in person. If you’ve been reading here for a while you already know that I am a HUGE fan of Brene’s work and that one of my proudest achievements is helping Brene overcome her fear/dislike of yoga. That’s why I’ve got her testimonial for my yoga course on my home page.

I’ve been yoga-phobic my entire life. Marianne Elliott changed that (and my life in the process). She’s one of the best teachers I’ve ever experienced. ~ Dr. Brené Brown

Pretty awesome, huh?

As it turned out, the entry price was worth it just to be in the room while Brene told 1000 people (who were all secretly worried they weren’t cool enough to be there or wouldn’t fit in) that: 1) the only true currency is what we do when we are being uncool, and 2) no-one belongs here more than you. She then got all 1000 of us to sing and dance along to Journey’s Don’t Stop Belivin’, which was conference heaven for a Glee fan like me.

I swear, that woman is going to save the world.

To make things even sweeter, I got to teach yoga under some trees in the park to people who I’d previously only ever met online – including the lovely Sarah J Bray who is as delightful in person as you would imagine from her delightful website and work.

I got to hang out with people who I love, meet people whose work I admire and listen to some very smart people talk about things I care about. All in all, it was a very good time.

The only problem with all this was that I couldn’t bring myself to say the name of this summit out loud.

Fortunately, the name is kind of long so everyone has taken to shortening it to ‘WDS’, which I had no problem saying. This was very helpful because it meant I didn’t have to do charades every time I wanted to refer to the event we were all at.

Are you wondering what my problem is?

Well, there are a lot of possible answers to that question. The first of which is that I am ridiculously stubborn. I blame my father for that. Mostly because he doesn’t get blamed for much, and getting blamed for things is in the father job description.

Another answer is that I care about language. I think the words we choose to use are important. Edward Sapir and Benjamin Whorf argued that language shapes thoughts and emotions, determining one’s perception of reality, and from what I’ve seen around the world, I agree.

The name of the event is the World Domination Summit.

I’ve never entirely understand why it’s called that. Because Chris really doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who wants to dominate the world or anyone in it. But maybe we have different ideas about what it means to dominate something.

To me (and, as it turns out, most dictionaries) the word ‘dominate’ carries the sense of exercising control or power over someone or something.

I have no problem with power. Especially not if I use Kenneth Boulding’s definition:

Power is the ability to change the future.

I’m all for the ability to change to future. I like us all to have it. That’s largely what human rights is about. The power to change our own future.

My discomfort is with power in the form of domination – which is power over.

Here’s where I get a little bit nerdy about words again. People who study power have distinguished between three types of power.

“Power over” is the ability to dominate another person or group, and it usually comes from force and threat.

“Power to” is the ability to do something on one’s own. It refers to our own abilities, intellect, resources, knowledge and stamina.

“Power with” also reflects ability, but it is the ability to work with others to get something done by cooperation. This is the power of consensus, of people working together.

Domination – or power over – is the form of power that I’ve seen do the most damage in the world. Whereas I’ve seen power to and power with transform relationships, communities and cultural systems, creating more freedom, more justice, and yes – more power – for everyone.

But here’s what’s really interesting.

At the World Domination Summit, what I saw were people almost exclusively interested in developing power to and power with. Which, if you are a word nerd, is a little bit confusing. And – more importantly – if you are a teeny bit stubborn, is a little bit discombobulating. Because when I got out of my own way long enough, I discovered something surprising.

A summit named after domination turns out to actually be about connection.

And about the kind of power with that is possible when we connect with people who share our belief that everyone, everywhere can (and should) have the power to change their own future and the future of the world.

Thanks Chris.

I have a copy of Chris’s new book to giveaway. To be eligible to win a copy of The $100 Startup by Chris Guillebeau just leave a comment on this post.

Here are some of the things people are saying about this book:

Thoughtful, funny, and compulsively readable, this guide shows how ordinary people can build solid livings, with independence and purpose, on their own terms. ~ Gretchen Rubin

With traditional career doors slamming shut, it’s easy to panic, but Chris Guillebeau sees opportunities everywhere. Making a career out of your passion sounds like a dream, but in this straight-forward, engaging book he shows you how to get it done, one simple step at a time. ~ Alan Paul

Four and a half years since I was last in Afghanistan, I have the chance to return. I’ve been given the opportunity to combine three of my favorite things into one trip:

- helping to uncover and tell inspiring stories about Afghanistan;

- teaching yoga and well-being to people working to serve others, and

- supporting local Afghan women’s advocates.

This is pretty much a dream trip for me.

PLUS it will give me the chance to go back to Chagcharan, a small town high in the Hindu Kush where I lived for six months and where much of my book is set. The movement towards withdrawal of international support for Afghanistan, mean that ongoing funding for some of the work I was involved in setting up in Ghor may be at risk.

By going back now, and recording stories of the successes of my former colleagues who have carried on the work we started together, I hope to do my bit to help advocate for the need for more – rather than less – international support for the people of Ghor.

I also want to take copies of my book back to the people who made it possible in the first place. The colleagues, friends and teachers who many of you have met in the pages of Zen Under Fire.

To make this trip possible, I need your help. None of the organisations I’ll be visiting or working with on this trip have the resources to fund my trip. I’ve saved what I can, but I haven’t quite got enough. Travel in Afghanistan is expensive. The security situation means that I have to choose more expensive (and safer) options for accommodation and transport.

The total cost of this trip is going to be about $4500. I have $2000. I’m asking for your help to raise the remaining $2500.

I’ve never raised funds or asked for donations for myself before. This is new (and uncomfortable) territory. But I believe in the value of the work I’m doing on this trip. And I haven’t felt this excited about my work, or as clear about my purpose for a long time.

If you share my passion for telling alternative stories about the situation in Afghanistan, for supporting the brave women Afghan who speak up for the rights of their sisters, or for serving those people who serve others, then I hope you’ll see this as your chance to be part of something special.

I’ve set up a ChipIn page, which makes it easy for you to make a donation via PayPal using your PayPal account or credit card.

If this feels like something you want to be part of, I’ll be grateful for your support and excited to have you along with me.

If this doesn’t feel right for you, that’s absolutely okay too!

Either way, if you are on my mailing list, I’ll be updating you on my progress and sharing stories from my travels with you.

Thank you!

Marianne

I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

This quote opens my book. It expresses what was possibly the single most beautiful and important thing I learned in Afghanistan.

When I remember this, and live as though it were true, it transforms my life.

Service gets a bad rap. When I lead ‘Yoga in Action’ workshops we do an open brainstorm on word associations with ‘service’ and people say things like:

obligation, responsibility, duty, martyrdom…

So how can service be joy? It can when we are serving from our soul, as Rumi said:

“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”
~ Rumi

This is what I’m learning. That it’s not indulgent to pursue creative joy. Joy is the fuel of my soul, and of my creative spirit and of the truest, purest and most effective service I can offer the world.

Which is why I’m joining Jen Louden and Susannah Conway on an exploration of Creative Joy. This week we’ve invited many of our friends to join us in answering these questions about creative joy, and in June we’ll be leading a retreat to explore and dive into Creative Joy.

We hope you’ll join us. By answering these questions yourself and sharing them with us (there is a great conversation about this on Twitter using the hashtag #CreativeJoy), or by accepting the free gift we are in the process of putting together for you (we’ll be sharing it tomorrow) or by coming along to our retreat.

Here’s what I’m learning about creative joy…

When you hear the words creative joy, what springs to mind?

Dancing. Laughter. Play. Flow. I get so much joy from dancing, and the experience of dancing, when I really give myself over to it, feels a lot like what I imagine people are talking about when they talk about ‘being in the flow’.  When I get stuck in my writing, or any kind of creative work, I sometimes just put on some great music and dance. It helps.

What did your creative joy look like this week?

A yoga session on my lounge floor. A walk on the beach with my friend and her dogs, including a four month old Border Collie — joy incarnate. An early morning walk on the beach by myself, with cheesy dance music on the iPod and a skip in my step.

What do you wish it had looked like?

I’m pretty happy with how it looked. But I would always take more time to laugh, more time to write. Actually, I would have loved a little bit more writing this week. But yoga, dog walks and dance music are not bad. Not bad at all.

What are 5 moments of creative joy from any time in your life?

Dancing at a gig by the Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra two weeks ago.

I did an interpretive dance to a cover of ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ by Bonnie Tyler. It was very creative and very joyful.

Teaching an outdoor yoga class, in the sun, on the grass – because I’d left the key to the yoga studio at home. Writing a very silly story about a little magic mouse who lived in a mushroom – inspired by Spike Milligan’s Bad Jelly the Witch – and making myself laugh out loud as I wrote. Inventing an entire world inside a hay-barn with my cousin over the school holidays, complete with our own language and weekly newspaper. Talking to a room full of people about my book last night, and feeling their questions, their experiences and my story weave into a new story, a story that belonged only to that place, that group of people.

What gets on the way of your creative joy?

Being in a hurry. Rushing to get things done. Fatigue and overwhelm.

What else?

Comparing myself to other people.

What else?

Letting my inner critic (who thinks I’m not good enough, and that I’m not really entitled to have any fun) run the show.

What feeds your creative joy?

Moving my body. Getting out into nature. Collaborating with creative people who I love. Reading for the love of it. Space. Music, dance, laughter.

How can you build a bit more creative joy into your day? week? life?

·       Answer these questions for yourself.

·       Turn off the computer, put on some music & dance

·       Give yourself the time to play (ideally with a puppy)

·       Whisper sweet nothings to yourself – hold your own hand

·       Find out more about The Creative Joy Retreat

·       Read what Jen had to say about Creative Joy

·       Find out where Susannah finds her Creative Joy

·       And keep an eye out for the Creative Joy gift tomorrow!

I’m due to head to Afghanistan myself next week, so I’ll be watching developments closely. But for now, I’m kicking off this weeks round-up with some more optimistic links about Afghanistan.

Good Things From Afghanistan

• Fawzia Koofi , a candidate for the Afghan presidential elections in 2014, is the author of a new memoir “The Favored Daughter.“
• Cool street photography by Skateistan photographers in Kabul (via @ElSnarkistani & @skateistan)
• An exhibition of photos by Afghan IDPs (internally displaced people) in Kabul this week (via @nickschifrin)

+ Local Champions Day

Around this time last year I declared “I’ve had enough of feeling helpless about the war in Afghanistan. It’s time to take action, and stand with one woman who is waging peace and prosperity for Afghan women.” That woman was Suraya Pakzad, who is one of my heros, and a true local champion. I mention her today because Monday 16 April is Local Champions Day - a day to celebrate “stories of local action working successfully to address local needs” rather than Whites in Shining Armor.

Aid Work, Empathy & Resilience

At the recent Skoll Forum the “Next Big Thing” in the social sector was tipped to be, wait for it, empathy. I confess I find it astounding that empathy is not already considered the first and most important thing in thge sector. But hey, I’m crazy like that.

Next up – it’s becoming a habit of mine, linking to posts from Alessandra of ‘Mindfulness for NGOs‘ but I can’t help it. I love this woman’s approach, her wisdom and her writing – especially not when she writes on topics like ‘post-traumatic growth’:

So how do we allow ourselves to be touched but not crashed by the difficulties of being a humanitarian? I think the concept of post-traumatic growth can offer some insight into this.

Thirdly, in what may well be an example of post-traumatic growth: a veteran-operated, pro-soldier, anti-war coffee shop.

And fourthly a similar topic, this article from The Guardian on whether sustainability professionals can avoid burnout asked: What methods do you use to stay happy on the inside whilst working effectively on the outside? (via @intldogooder)

Good Things for Building Resilience

First up – I’m planning a special community edition of all my 30 days courses starting mid-May. The plan is to celebrate my 40th b’day by holding a great big group event where we all start the courses (you can choose between the four yoga courses – Standard, Beginner, Busy or Curvy – or the Courage course) on the same day. More soon!

Secondly, this looks like a wonderful offering from Eric Klein (who is one of my guests on the 30 Days of Courage course audio guide) and whose 50 Ways to Leave Your Karma book – on which this program is based – I loved. You can get a preview of the program here.

Also, my own meditation teacher Peter Fernando (who you’ll know and love if you’ve done any of my 30 Days courses) is offering his online meditation course on a ‘pay-what-you-can’ basis.

Good things on Gender & Motherhood

On the subject of aid work, this article on Gender and Aid Work by @onSanity makes the important (and often repeated point) that the aid/humanitarian sector might want to sort out it’s own backyard before telling the rest of the world what to do:

We are talking about regrouping families in Africa and Asia, and at the same time about ways to get the women away from their own children so that their careers wont suffer.

By far the most powerful post I’ve read in a long time on the topic of not having children, On Being Childless by Marie Phillips had me nodding, linking and forwarding like crazy. A few gems from her article:

The fantasy of the thing you don’t have is a fantasy of perfection … You do not need to manufacture a new human to have love. There are already so many people surrounding you who want your love very much, and all you have to do is give it to them. Of course there are some who will reject it, but you can never love with expectation, only with hope, and that goes for your children as much as for anybody else.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth Badinter, in Lost Ground, asks whether a ‘new feminism that glorifies pregnancy and childbirth’ is holding women back. Referring to Carol Gilligan’s work to  back in the early 1980s,

An approach that makes biology the source of all virtue condemns, in one sweep, all men as well as women who have not had children.

Good Books

My friend Doug Mack’s hilarious travel memoir, Europe on 5 Wrong Turns a Day is out and getting rave reviews from publications like National Geographic.

Refreshing in its intelligence, candor, good-humored self-deprecation, and insightful redemption of the much-maligned tourist, Mack’s account is a trail-reblazing testament to the transformative power of travel in the modern world, and to the enduring richness of those well-trod places where authenticity, history, culture, and fame compose their own never-ending narratives.

And I’m fairly certain you already know this, but if somehow you missed the news, the very funny, very wonderful Jenny Lawson aka The Bloggess, also has a memoir out, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened. I haven’t read it yet. But I’m willing to take Neil Gaiman’s word on it:

The Bloggess writes stuff that actually is laugh-out-loud, but you know that really you shouldn’t be laughing and probably you’ll go to hell for laughing, so maybe you shouldn’t read it. That would be safer and wiser. ~ Neil Gaiman

“As I stood in the morning light in my grimy Kabul kitchen, the hot coffee made me feel almost at home,” she writes, evoking my own memories of the very same feeling in my own grimy Kabul kitchen.

I also loved this piece by Brene Brown – a love note to over-achievers (as a chronic over-achiever in some kind of strange recovery/relapse cycle at the moment, I shall be pinning this one to a noticeboard over my desk)

Some lovely writing also from Alanna Krause on how yoga leads us, inevitably, to service – and how service leads us to healing.

I’ve long identified as a ‘connector’ rather than a ‘networker’, and although I don’t agree with everything in this article (How to be a connector), I do like the emphasis on a willingness to be of service “even if there is no obvious or immediate payback” as an essential element of connectors.

Like many who have loved his writing about the Middle East, I was saddened to learn that New York Times writer Anthony Shadid died this week in Syria. If you have never come across his work, I highly recommend you read this collection of short extracts of his writing.

“The horror of this war is its numbers, frozen in the portraits at the morgue: an infant’s eyes sealed shut and a woman’s hair combed in blood and ash. “Files tossed on the shelves,” a policeman called the dead, and that very anonymity lends itself to the war’s name here — al-ahdath, or the events.” – Restoring Names to War’s Unknown Casualties, The New York Times, Aug. 30, 2010

And some good news, to end on. I love this short interview with Fawzia Koofi, Afghanistan’s first female Speaker of Parliament, about her plans to run for President.

“There are fears that we will lose the gains we have when it comes to women’s rights, democracy – so people who believe in a better Afghanistan need to come forward. … Afghanistan needs leaders.”

Amen to that. And on another hopeful note, I’m hoping to be able to pull together a trip back to Afghanistan in March/April to take copies of my book back to the people who inspired it, and to begin research on a new writing project. Wish me luck, this one is going to be a bit tricky to pull off!

There was so much good stuff in my interview with Maggie, but I was only able to include a little of it in the HuffPo piece, so here is the interview in it’s entirety:

1. After Nick Kristof’s article, some people might see you as the cover-girl for DIY aid, for the power of passion over professionalism. In your experience, is passion enough?

More than a cover-girl for DIY Aid, I’d like to think of myself as a young woman who believes in hard work and the power of creating grassroots community driven efforts to create a better world. I do not regard passion and professionalism as mutually exclusive, especially in the case of my own organization.

I can’t speak for other projects, but in regard to our Kopila experience and the community we have created—our team is filled with passionate and professional perspectives. Working alongside me are, Nepali men and women: a community of care-givers, teachers, health-workers, counselors, subsistence farmers, gardeners, engineers, craftsmen, government leaders, village elders, and mothers. As the director of my project, I am constantly learning and working to improve and hone my skills and knowledge. Together, we make our model work.

The answer to your question really isn’t such a simple one.

Passion lights the spark, it’s what keeps you going when you times get hard but in the end of the day it’s your skill, ideas, hard work, and commitment that add to the formula and make you successful.

Professionalism and passion are both implicit.

We’ve built this project from the ground up and everyone plays a valuable role.

Many of our staff come from extremely impoverished childhoods, and or, were orphans themselves. They know what life was like for our children and they know what it’ll take for them to heal and become self-sufficient moving forward.

We have ambitious goals and we work hard to achieve them. We believe our children will change their communities, country and the world. At times the challenges we face are overwhelming—but together we figure out solutions. We are invested in the long-term impact. Our children speak volumes for us, they are happy healthy and thriving; each has made, and continue to make enormous progress.

2. What, in your view, are the risks (if any) of passionate people launching aid and development projects without experience or professional support?

Every project and person is different and I resist the inclination to generalize advice on risks. I’d much rather focus on what worked and works for our project and for me. Learning the language and local dialects, immersing myself in my local community, and bringing a support team on board to chip away at real world problems, one child at a time, has been the key to our success.

A conversation between Ophelia Dahl and Paul Farmer (founders of Partners In Health) might express it best—at the time both young volunteers in Haiti.

Ophelia Dahl:

“The problems there seemed insurmountable. It seemed crazy to think we could actually do something that would make a difference. Paul said, “Let’s just try to concentrate on one small area.” He taught me an important lesson. You don’t set out to do enormous things quickly. You set out with a reasonable target. If you hit it, you hit it well, and it will grow from there.”

I didn’t land in Nepal with a grand vision. I started with one child, Hima—a seven-year old who I met as she was breaking stones (to sell) on the side of the road.

Everything started with the idea that I could make the life and future of this one little girl better.

3. Do you think a Masters in Development would have helped you do a better job of building Kopila? If so, how? If not, why not?

Many Universities are tackling and addressing critically important global challenges. I am an advocate for education both in and outside the walls of a classroom, with diverse approaches and experienced based learning. In my case, I am not armed with a graduate degree—still, we have made significant measurable progress.

My absolute highest priority has been creating a safe, calm, warm environment so the children of Kopila Valley Home and School may feel their own power, and ultimately grow to share that strength with their families, communities, and the world.

Do I think I would benefit from the intellectually stimulating community a university offers, of course!

Am I happy with the path I took? Yes.

My experiences over the past 6 years have given me deep insight into the complex world of development and creating social change. I have put careful thought and planning into every action and consulted mentors, advisors, and both my Nepalese and U.S. based board of directors along the way.

There are 7 billion people in this world and so many complex pressing problems to solve.

There is still so much to do and there’s room for a diversity of approaches, innovations, collaborations, synergy and everyone’s voice.

So you might be surprised to learn that our conversation was about the fact that passion is not enough. Nor is enthusiasm. Or persistence. Or even good intentions.

As the woman who is at the receiving end of many thousands of impassioned emails, letters and parcels making that case that 16 year old Pierre of France is, in fact, the incarnation of Gloin, or that 58 year old Ravn of Norway is the very epitome of Aragorn, my friend has some idea of the power of passionate persistence.

What she also knows, however, is that passionate persistence will not get you a part in The Hobbit. Not unless you are a skilled professional actor (she does make an exception for children) represented by a reputable agent.

I’ve been thinking about the limits of passion lately because I see the same thing come up in all the spheres of my life.

In humanitarian and aid work it takes the form of the debate about the potentially harmful impact of enthusiastic amateurs in the aid sector, and the mantra that ‘good intentions are not enough’, which I’ve written about here before. Just as passionate persistence without professional skills won’t get you a part in The Hobbit, good intentions without skillful means may not do the good intended. In fact, it may even do considerable harm to the very people it is trying to help.

In writing and publishing, we talk about building our online platform, and using tools like Twitter to connect with agents and publishers. All of which is good (and helped me find both my agent and my publisher), but are we directing as much emphasis and energy to the practice and craft of writing? I know in my own case it often isn’t.

In yoga, the potentially harmful impact of passionate persistence without appropriate skill was explored in an article in the New York Times this week. While the article, in my opinion, unfairly emphasised the risks of yoga without explaining that any well-trained, professional yoga teacher will take precautions to ensure that every student in their class is safe, it does make the very valid – and important – point, that yoga practice without skillfulness may do as much harm as good.

Over dinner this week I proposed to my passionate friends that there is an over-emphasis – in contemporary, popular thought – of the value of passion and perseverance. People are being sold the idea that if they feel passionately enough about [their writing/saving lives in Haiti/Peter Jackson’s films] then all they need do is follow their passion, and never give up.

And I don’t think that’s true. I think people are being sold short.

They are putting their time and energy into sending their unpolished manuscript to publishers whose websites clearly state that they do not accept unsolicited manuscripts. Or they’re sending their tenth email to the casting director for The Hobbit, telling her that she clearly doesn’t understand how passionate they are about the book. They’re setting up new not-for-profits that replicate the work of existing, more experienced organisations, or sending second-hand shoes to a country where local shoe-makers need the work themselves.

Their persistence is NOT translating into them making the changes they are passionate about. The things they want to say are not being heard by the people who they passionately want to communicate with. Why? Because they lack the skill to know the best way to translate their passion into effective action.

Which is not to say that passion and perseverance are unimportant. They are essential. But passion + persistence have to be employed with skill.

Skill doesn’t have to require a masters degree in fine art, or development studies. It may be as simple as checking the publisher/casting director/not-for-profit’s website before you hit send on that email. It might be as humble as accepting that when they say “We don’t accept unsolicited manuscripts/resumes/gifts in kind” it does apply to you.

It’s means doing your research. Studying your chosen field. Finding, and learning from, a skilled teacher or mentor. This applies as much to the processes by which your work gets done in the world as well as to the craft of the work itself.

Passion and perseverance need to be directed towards something. They need to be directed towards becoming more and more skillful.

This morning I sat in on a yoga class taught by a friend, a teacher whose technical skills I deeply respect. After class I asked her to explain to me exactly what I should be looking for in one particular pose, what common misalignments I should be aware of, and how to teach the pose safely. Every week I read new articles about developments in human rights, humanitarian and development assistance. I’m always learning, always testing my theories, always exploring new debates.

And when it comes to writing, like yoga, I practice every day. My aspiration is to develop increasingly skillful means to communicate through my writing and to serve through my teaching.

The challenges facing our planet are not trivial. The opportunities to tell new stories and find new solutions to old problems are unprecedented.

The world needs your contribution.

May you find your passion. May you build your stamina. And may you become increasingly skillful, so that you make the unique contribution that only you can make in this world.

A couple of weeks ago I talked to Brigitte Lyons about hope. She was asking some really important questions. Like:

“What keeps you going when you have a crisis of hope?

You know the feeling.

The voice of doubt that creeps up when you start to think you can make a difference.

The worry that the work you’re doing to better yourself is silly and inconsequential.

The anger that flashes when you remember a time you thought your work mattered, but now you’re not so certain.

What do you do?”

We talked, she recorded it and then posted the first half of our conversation on her website today. After the elections in New Zealand this past weekend, it was as timely a reminder for me as as for anyone else. Here’s a taste of the conversation.

Is hope the answer?

Brigitte: The reason I wanted to talk to you today is that I struggle very much with hope. Often, I allow myself to sink into feelings of futility. Coming from my experience in the U.S., I feel that our political system is so stacked against the individual. Yet, when I read your writing, I see a person who keeps going, even after witnessing much worse.

Marianne: First up, I am not sure how I feel about ‘hope’.

It has different meanings in different settings, but from a Buddhist perspective, it is the flip side of fear.

It’s not about the present; it is about some projected future. Some story we have about what might happen.

Brigitte: Oh, that is interesting.

Marianne: I’m much more interested in what is happening right now. And how I can participate in what is happening right now in a way that brings more comfort, safety, well-being to myself and others.

The impetus is to act, not to be attached to the outcome.

To act mindfully, yes, having given thoughtful consideration to possible consequences of our action. To choose wise and skillful action.

Read the rest of the post here. 

And read part two here