Hello Hedge Schoolers,
How would you respond in a situation where you had only one shot at your dream? One opportunity to go for it. Would you get in your own way? Would fear consume you? Would you give everything you had?
I've contemplated these questions often. Played the scenarios over and over again in my head. But as scenarios go, nothing beats direct experience. We don't know how we'll be until we are in the throes of it. Till our toes meet the 'tairseach.'
Tairseach
Tairsearch (pronounced teer - shock) is the Gaelic word for 'threshold'. A threshold is a dividing line between worlds. A dividing line between irreversible transformation. Throughout our lives, we cross many thresholds. Biological. Spiritual. Developmental. Cultural. The old gives way to the new. Death, the price of admission.
I have had my toes caress the threshold line many times, only to baulk at the next step with my head overcooking the recipe. Overthinking. Fear. Doubt. They have all shown up from time to time. And so I bail from the crossing.
On other occasions, there is pressure that builds and builds and I'm then blasted over the line. With that push, there is deep surrender and deep union and flow with the experience. Upon reflection and with a healthy dose of self-compassion, I often wonder what the difference is.
Why is it easier on some occasions to step towards transformation?
And harder on others?
Is there a critical mass or energetic price of admission required?
This is where Buckminster Fuller comes in.
Perturbation
I've been a fan of Buckminster Fuller's work for a long time. As a thinker. As a change agent. As a human being. He lived to help others thrive. To create a brighter future for those that will come after him. And the seeds of his magic continue to thrive in the fertile soil of inspiring humans. One of those amazing humans is Christine McDougall. Christine has been a student of Bucky Fuller's work for over 30 years and is currently the Chief Steward and Founder of Syntropic World, a global community of practice dedicated to supporting Syntropic Enterprises to become business-as-usual. I'll dig more into the amazing work Christine does over the next few weeks. I am currently in my second masterclass under Christine's tutelage and my mind is blown every week.
Each lesson applies pressure to the models that I have pieced together to make sense of the world. I can feel the dissonance of knowing and not knowing in the same breath. As the pressure rises, the concepts vibrate in my head. I go to sleep with them on my mind, bones for my subconscious to chew on. The more I think, the more vibration, or as Bucky Fuller calls it, the more perturbation that occurs.
And then bam, just out of nowhere, I get it. I cross an imaginary threshold. Forever different, bathing in the high of an 'aha' moment.
Christine calls Perturbation ‘the crucible.’ The crucible provides constraint. Pressure to push against. The more pressure applied, the greater the rate of vibration (perturbation).
To illustrate this, I'd like to share a short perturbation from my upcoming book "A-light in the lament"
I can remember when I finally let out the screams that had kept me awake at night. Once again, I was speaking Kev's story. It was the final presentation of an eight-week public speaking masterclass. Held in a beautiful container by Clare Dea, I journeyed through the world of improvisation, deep presencing, and authentic expression. The masterclass culminated in an individual performance in front of family and friends. My story was about the wrestle I have with the many masks I wear in life. A wrestle amplified by grief and constant shapeshifting
Speaking about the pain in front of strangers is difficult but doing so in front of your parents and siblings trumps that. The presentation was edgy for me and required deep authenticity and complete surrender to the moment. I had practiced it many times and every time I got to the threshold’s edge, I’d surrender. So deeply afraid of what was beyond the line I had marked in the sand, I continually pulled out during practice. The edginess of finally letting go scared me to death.
But speaking the pain alive while I looked into the eyes of my Mum and Dad tipped me over the edge. The pain of the last few years erupted in a scream that shook the room to its core. The spontaneous eruption was the moment of deep surrender where I met the pain and released that to the world. When I let that scream go, I dropped into a moment of deep union with the universe. All the masks were dropped. There was no ‘I’ giving a performance. We were one. It was a oneness I had rarely felt since that call.
The scream was unscripted. And I have never uttered a sound like that since. The sight of my parents weeping as I shared publicly our grief rose the perturbation to the level required to cross the threshold. I crossed that threshold with the expelling of energy. A spontaneous eruption.
To loop it back to my initial inquiry, why is it harder on some occasions to cross the threshold? Simple, the pressure wasn't there. The crucible had leaks. Loose boundaries that I used to escape for fear of actually transforming. Other times, I just wasn't ready. Premature growth without the wings needed for flying. To develop the strength needed to hold open its magical wings, the butterfly must struggle to break the chrysalis. Without the struggle, there is no flying. The same applies to us.
Crossing the ‘tairseach’ due to perturbation is not always a good thing. Death by a thousand cuts can lead to negative eruptions. Lost tempers. Violent eruptions. Mental snaps. Pressure is neutral. How we hold our stead or dissipate our energy are two areas we must continue to work on. With the right crucible, we will be forever different.
A spontaneous eruption of the never before. This is my poetic salute to perturbation and tairseach crossing.
Spontaneous Eruption
Oh what magic births from souls holding court with love
Where depths of whispers are weaved into song
spoken alive with listening
Like water traversing the contours of land
we spontaneously erupt the never before
The magic of maybe dancing with the edges
Knocking on new world doorways
as adjacent possibilities are dreamt into existence
I die in those moments of presence
Katana cut narratives
fall away in reverent pieces
as the sacred beingness
is witnessed
Singing hearts tractor beam connection
There is no separation
Only love
Divine love,
that swallows you in the deepest embrace
Gifted,
I sit back with a smile on my face
Oh the places we will go
with love in our hearts
Till next week,
Steve
Tales Of Bailing Under Pressure: Tairseach and Perturbation