Benefit

I keep a sticky note underneath my laptop with a few guiding reminders. One says Ask questions. The next two say Consistent generosity and Small efforts matter. At the top sits the phrase Benefit for all, serving as the umbrella.

I don’t need to look at this note to remember what it says anymore, but I like knowing that it literally undergirds my interactions with life through my laptop. 

Recently, while in conversation with a leadership team, words from the sticky note floated up, and I posed the question: “In this case, what would yield the highest benefit for all?” A member of the team asked, “What does that mean, ‘highest benefit for all?’” 

Right then, I missed an opportunity to turn her good question to the group to discuss. They could have grappled with the notion of who “all” included in that context, and what “benefit” meant. Instead, I didn’t follow the wisdom of Ask questions, but instead made a brief response, and the meeting went on.

So, I’ve been pondering her inquiry since that missed moment, unpacking more deeply for myself the notion of ‘benefit to all.’

I’ve gained a new insight that benefit is a core motivator for me in writing essays for Vital Signs. When I feel I have something authentic to say about what has served my own development and I sense the learning as transferrable, I have a topic. These little essays are a way of capturing my own journey through the territory of “Only to Grow.” 

Then there’s that tricky word “all.” I don’t think it’s possible to make anything—content, decisions, products...that benefit all people, all creatures, all aspects of an ecosystem within a given context. However, I do think it’s helpful to consider who benefits, and to what degree, when we take action. Conversely, we have to look at who is left out, disadvantaged, hindered, or harmed. 

In each new set of circumstances, asking the question, “What would yield the highest benefit for all?” lifts our consciousness and encourages us to take multiple perspectives. 

Practicing Awareness

Thanks to a friend, I received a gift of expanded perspective recently in a space where I have had some blind spots related to benefit for all. As a coach trained to include the body as a source of wisdom, and as a facilitator who works across contexts from teaching yoga to leading organizational change with executive leadership teams, I often start sessions with practices that incorporate breath and body awareness as a method for transitioning, arriving, and settling the nervous system. 

I’ve thought of these mindful moments as useful methods for pausing, which is an action I cherish and seek to cultivate in a culture that over-values speed and efficiency. And then I read this Facebook post (excerpted and shared with permission) from Nicole Graziano:

I am seeing an uptick of beginning meetings, trainings, and courses with breathing and body-focused exercises. Often, this occurs in meetings that are completely unrelated to breath and body work. I understand that these activators are meant to ground participants, create a shared space, and that the facilitators are likely well-intentioned. Also, I absolutely understand the relevance for openers for grounding a group. As a former teacher, I love openers.

I want to explain why I feel the singular option of breath and body-centered openers is problematic:

• Breath work can be triggering for a variety of reasons.

  • Maybe someone has health issues related to breath.

  • Maybe being asked to breathe a certain way is in itself triggering. I know for certain that people have been asked to "take deep breaths" before something bad is done to them by that person. This has happened to me.

• Body centered work can also be harmful:

  • There are people who make a conscious effort to live in their brains and not in their bodies for chunks of a day or even spans of days. This is true for some people who experience pain or have chronic illness. These people might feel comfort during the work day or during a class because they know they'll be living and operating in their mind rather than in their body. Living in one's brain can be a great relief and break from what goes on in our bodies.

  • Being told what to do with one's body during an unrelated meeting can be jolting and can feel intrusive. It might cause participants to shut down rather than becoming more present for the meeting.

  • Breath and body work should likely be conducted by an expert, not just by someone who thinks it is a good idea or someone who does it on their own.

I want to offer a few alternatives. Give participants a choice between a breath/body activity OR a brain-based activity, or simply ask a question that is light or grounded in the purpose of the meeting, like:

• Tell about an object in the room brings you some joy

• Share what you hope to learn or a question you hope to have answered in this meeting

* * *
An expanse of new awareness opened! I took on Nicole’s perspective and saw through a fresh lens, like seeing blue sky turned orange. For a moment, I felt guilt and shame for harm I may have caused in the past, and then I moved to a space of gratitude, ready to pivot.

Invitation: Are your teeth touching?

Ironically, something I have intended to write about for weeks involves a simple, powerful body awareness that I learned when one of my yoga teachers said during class: “Your teeth only need to touch when you’re eating.”

For her, it was probably just another moment—a wisdom droplet she didn’t linger on—but for me, it brought awareness that seemed stunningly easy to track: Are my teeth touching?

I’ve asked myself this question thousands of times in the last two months (not an exaggeration). When I find that my teeth are in fact touching, I take note, separate them slightly, and let my tongue fall to the floor of my mouth. My shoulders often drop as well. I am instantly calmer and more aware. This tiny practice has benefited me greatly and yielded many micro-moments of self-calming in an anxious time.

And yet, awareness of teeth touching didn’t seem like a big enough idea to write about. When paired with the gift of Nicole’s words, though, there’s heft here.

I offer Are your teeth touching? as a simple invitation to notice and part them slightly if not. Yes, this is a practice to increase one’s sense of calm, but it doesn’t focus on breath, and it doesn’t strike me (or Nicole!) as an invasive body awareness question likely to act as a trigger. Nonetheless, she has reminded me that options and invitations are always the way to go. 

I am grateful for the ways we can continuously help one another consider: what yields the highest benefit for all?