Radical Ambiguity and Radical Persistence, Part 1

I wrote this post some time ago for another, now defunct blog when I was living in Massachusetts prior to moving to Vermont in 2014. Please excuse the present tense in this post because I decided I'd rather tell you that it was written some time ago rather than going through and change all the tenses. 

I believe, however, that it still speaks to me. I hope that it still speaks to you. So, here it is: 

My local community has four or five ponds, one of which is located in the downtown area. A pair of nesting swans has made this pond their home for a number of years now. Do they nest in a quieter area of the pond? No. They nest at the side of the pond closest to Main Street near the outflow of the pond and close to a sidewalk. Once they show up for the summer, many people come by, talk, laugh, and look at the swans. Traffic goes by creating its own din. 

I was thinking about this recently. My first thought was that it is surprising

that the pair would nest in a busier area of the pond rather than a quieter area. Yet, they seem to be calm and not bothered by the noise of cars, trucks and people. Then I began to think about what could be learned by this.

The swans show up every year, no matter whether all the cygnets survive or none survive. They nest in the same spot, no matter whether there is a lot trash in the area or not. They generally ignore what goes on around them, including a pair of Mallards this year that frequent the area near their nest. A couple of years ago, one of the cygnets died and remained on the edge of the nesting area. It appeared that it did not bother the nesting pair, although it greatly bothered one of the visitors to the swans one day.

I go to a group in Northboro, Massachusetts called the Wellness Roundtable. I heard Michael Corthell who was leading the group at a recent meeting use the phrase practicing radical ambiguity. It made me think of a similar phrase—radical persistence. I know that anthropomorphizing animals is not helpful in relating to them as it can lead us astray deciding what animals think or feel, but it seems to me that, in a way, the nesting pair is practicing both radical ambiguity and radical persistence. They show up, they breed, they raise the cygnets who survive, and then they migrate for the winter. This happens, seemingly, without any assurance that either they or the cygnets will have enough to eat or survive. They appear to humans to do it with calm and grace, things that many of us strive to be able to do, act with poise and serenity. They seem to be self-assured and confident. They seem to know their purpose and live it.

Unfortunately, for many of us knowing our purpose is difficult. We often go to places of fear and worry rather than, in the phrase I heard recently, practicing radical ambiguity. It can also be easy to give up and stop trying to reach a goal rather than practicing radical persistence. Rather than trusting in ourselves and the process, we give up trying to attain our dreams; we give up pieces of ourselves. I suppose that one of the things to be learned is to know when to continue with radical ambiguity and radical persistence and when to understand that it is time to change course, so to speak.

One of my own issues for quite a long time has been learning to trust through times of seeming insecurity, i.e., learning to live with ambiguity—without assurance of the outcome that I hope for, meanwhile persisting in the goals that I have set for myself. One of the things that my angels and guides have told me is: “Breathe deeply. Breathe slowly. You can breathe through anything.” It is a way to move through the fear to be able to practice radical ambiguity and, yes, radical persistence. It strikes me that breathing in this way is a means to be mindful, heartful.

I have been reading Thich Nhat Hanh’s book, Fear: Essential Wisdom for Getting through the Storm. On page 87 he says:

"There are several simple methods for taking care of our strong emotions. One is 'belly breathing,' breathing in the abdomen. When we are caught in a strong emotion like fear or anger, our practice is to bring our attention down to the abdomen. To stay on the level of the intellect is not safe. Strong emotions are like a storm, and to stand in the middle of a storm is very dangerous. Yet that’s what most of us do when we get upset; we stay out in the storm of our feelings, and they overwhelm us. Instead, we have to ground ourselves by bringing our attention downward. We focus on our abdomen and practice mindful breathing, just giving all our attention to the rise and fall of the belly." 

Bringing our attention downwards can, I think, help us move into that space of being at peace with ambiguity and away from the fear and anxiety that ambiguity can create in us. And, coming into that place of serenity can allow us to continue our practice of radical persistence in moving to a place of healing and living our purpose. Thich Nhat Hahn relates a story on page 71 about the Buddha:

"When the Buddha was very old, just before he died, he said, 'My dear friends, my dear disciples, don’t take refuge in anything outside of you. In every one of us there is a very safe island we can go to. Every time you go home to that island with mindful breathing, you create a space of relaxation, concentration, and insight. If you dwell on that island in yourself with your mindful breathing, you are safe. That is a place where you can take refuge whenever you feel fearful, uncertain, or confused.' ”

This is the place from which we can be like the swans—practicing radical ambiguity and radical persistence. May we all find that inner island of calm and grace, poise and serenity.



I took these photographs; however, they are not the swans I wrote about in this post. I can help you on your journey either through Life Coaching sessions or Channeled Angel Readings. My book, Opening the Heart: Meditations on How to Be can help you as well. For more information, click here.

Comments