with Susan Kaplan, M.S.W.
- CNVC Candidate for Certified Trainer
- Accredited Facilitator, with Rocky Mountain Compassionate Communication Network
- Courage & Renewal Facilitator®
Three Workshops to be taken independently or as a series
$25 per session or $60 for the series
All take place at the:
Dates: Tuesdays, July 28th, August 4th and August 11th
Time: 6:00 - 9:00 pm
Where: Evanston Center for Spiritual Wholeness and Healing,
2122 S. Lafayette Street, Denver, CO 80210
Denver, CO,
&nb sp; &nb sp; Cost: Each Level costs $25 per session or a pay $60 for the series.
Limited Scholarships available.
Questions or to register: Susan Kaplan 720.280.2170
kaplan@earthlink.net Exploring the Labels of Introvert & Extrovert - July 28th 6:00 - 9:00 pm
We draw the lines between how we expect each other to communicate. Come explore
the gifts of how you are wired, identifying ways to better express what you would enjoy
in your daily communication exchanges. Empowerment comes from moving beyond any
labels to understanding the fullest of your unique experience - and then being able to express
your precious longings in how you want to be understood. You might gain some insight into
how others are wired as well!
Shifting from Power-Over/Power-Under to Power-with - in our family dynamics,
conversations about race and in our social justice movements - August 4th 6 - 9 pm
Come wrestle with the concepts of Power-Over/Power-Under (Domination paradigm)
and Power- with (Partnership paradigm) in our individual and collective lives. Parker Palmer's
movement model along with the partnership paradigm acknowledge unhealed pain,
habitual patterns of oppression (both subtle and blatant), disenfranchisement and enculturation.
We'll explore bringing power-with values of compassion & co-creation into our difficult
conversations on race and other differences. This supports our on-going efforts to truly
support a world of compassion and inclusion.
Healing Generational Pain - holding my personal and tribe needs at the same time. August 11th, 6 - 9 pm
Where do you stand within the "tragic gap" of holding your individual needs and the
needs of your "tribe"? If our needs are never in conflict, what do we do when we feel that
we must choose between the needs of our personal self verses those from our cultural, racial,
spiritual tradition, gender, and other groups that are part of our collective identity? There is a
complexity within our lives that we will explore in a new way - learning to more fully understand
the nature of the precious longings we feel. Drawing upon a Courage & Renewal® practice &
principles, we'll use the concept of standing in the tragic gap as a way to distinguish between
static and fluidity of values or needs. Holding these longings and connecting to our own life force,
we'll explore more life-giving strategies to move forward in times of seemingly internal conflict.
Healing generational pain can arise from this celebration and mourning - finding where we can
move forward with intention, heart and compassion.
Summer musings on weaving real connections by Susan Kaplan: Excerpt from Journal entry, June 20 Saturday ~ New York The screeching of the J train is jarring to my ears, reminding me that I am not quite
ready to wake up and be in this world of New York's hustle and bussle. My daughter and
I are on the subway heading to meet up with my son and daughter-in-law in the heart of
New York City. Masses of people are everywhere. I notice a young woman, with heavy
make-up sitting to our left on the bench. With ear phones in, she is sitting there crying.
She is showing emotion here - crying muddy tears tainted with mascara, down her creeks.
Having lived in Brooklyn for a few years, my daughter begins to educate me in correct
subway conduct.
My daughter explained "subway voice" ~ meaning it is considerate to lower one's voice
when talking in a subway car. There are just so many people and they don't really want to
hear our conversation. And besides, it would be way too loud if everyone spoke like they
do on a regular cell phone call.
Then there is the backpack issue. Once, I almost took someone out by turning quickly with
my swinging backpack coming around to hit the person right behind me. "Opps! So sorry!",
I had said. Thus I am reminded of this earlier mistake. It is vital to sit with things on my
lap or between my legs when standing and holding onto the middle rail.
And then there is the big one - you don't engage. Perhaps a quick flash of a smile as a thank
you for someone moving to create space for you. No words, no eye contact, no engagement.
Questions are ok, as New Yorkers proudly enjoy sharing knowledge how to get around this vast
city. Otherwise, engagement pops the bubbles of space that surround each person. This bubble of
silence - a space suit of sorts - allows everyone to live in this crowded, demanding city. People
thirst for privacy and a few moments of solace before moving out into the mass bee hives on the
street above. Really, they are no different than all of us.
Carefully creating our standards and comfort on what we enjoy and don't enjoy around communication,
we create an invisible bubble too. Oh, the list is long and narrow, we talk about politics only if we agree,
it's ok or not ok to share feelings, one is suppose to ask about your family first or be direct in asking for a favor,
talk about sports or the weather, it's ok to text while talking, it's not ok to text...the list goes on and on.
Of course there are many cultural, racial and regional differences that are important to be honored.
But I am speaking more of the bubble we put up when we don't know someone - an encounter with a stranger.
If someone crosses the line, we are quick to judge. Glancing away in an effort to ignore someone's comment
or a few sharp words put them back into their place - that is how we let someone know there is a line and
YOU JUST CROSSED IT.
How is it that we have individually and collectively created such a long list of rights and wrongs about how we
communicate? So although the stereotype of a New Yorker is that they are rude and distant - this image is only a
reflection of our dominant society - where we are increasingly putting barriers between "us" and "them".
Parker Palmer, in his new book, Healing the Heart of Democracy, invites us to back up and revisit engagement
with each other - in more life-giving ways. "We are all in this together" is the first habit of the heart. What does this
mean if we truly understand that we are interconnected and not separate beings?
People continue to come in and go out, changing the count on the bench at every stop. At this moment, there are
three people between me and the woman crying. Stop after stop she continues to cry - the type of tears that seem to
come from the depths of one's soul. Wiping them off with a briskness, she seems to put a stop to them. Yet she
continues to cry, quietly and freely, for many more stops.
I begin to watch people watching her. Though not directly, some steal a look and then become even more focused
on their own book, newspaper, or music. Eventually, she stops crying.
What vulnerability to cry in this crowed vessel. I find that I am deeply touched by her tears and extraordinary courage to
show this depth of emotion on the ordinary subway route. Doesn't she know about the rules I wonder? And yet, how
many times have I been so moved and touched, crying from the depth of my soul with those same big, sloppy tears?
Plenty, but on a subway car with 80 other people.
Our stop is next. My daughter gets up, moving skillfully out of the door right next to our seats. A look of surprise comes
across her face when I tell her I am going out the other door. With only a split second with the unforgiving doors closing,
I gently bend down, lightly touching her upper arm. "Many blessing on you," I whisper to her. Taken off guard, she looks
up with a surprised expression. I repeat my words. Time stops with a pause - a moment when time slows down. She
smiles a lovely smile, that I'll never forget, as she looks me deeply into my eyes. "Thank you" she whispers. Next thing
I know I have stepped out as the door close behind me.
My daughter is curious why I went out the door farther from our seats. My attempt to explain is mixed now with my own tears.
I still can't say completely what it was, this engagement with this stranger. My tears came down my cheek, as they do as I write this.
There is something so deeply touching to be present to someone else - to just be with them in whatever they are experiencing.
And that is all I did.
We are all in this together and I am so grateful for these moments when I feel my humanness and connection to others.
That's it - just a simple interaction - breaking the implicit rules of engagement. I am reminded of the phrase from
Marge Piercy's poem, The Seven of Pentacles:
"Weave real connections, create real nodes, build real houses.
Live a life you can endure: Make love that is loving
Keep tangling and interweaving..."
This is a life I can endure - practicing a habit of the heart that brings me back to myself.
