Clearmind Goes Social!

We have pearls of weekly wisdom on Twitter, our very own channel on YouTube (TheClearmindChannel), and our new "Duane Catherine O'Kane" page on FaceBook. We look forward to connecting with you all online!

People can request to become a friend of "Duane Catherine O'Kane" on FaceBook. (Just log in to your FaceBook account, search for "Duane Catherine O'Kane", and then click the "+1 Add Friend" box.)


Did you know that you can help us grow the Clearmind community by following us on Twitter? Not only will you receive convenient weekly one-sentence nuggets of knowledge, you'll also help share the Clearmind experience with others. How does this work? When you follow us, your followers will see this, and may be inspired to check out our tweets and learn more about Clearmind.

News Flash! Secret Alumni Meeting Location Discovered!

The Clearmind Alumni meet on the third Thursday of every month. The Alumni meets in secret (OK, not so secret) so we can create events and educational opportunities to carry on the great tradition of having a thriving social and supportive community.

This month, you get to be involved in one of our not so secret meetings.

We've had a generous offer by one of our Alumni, Sylvie Gendron, to come to peruse her fun and fabulous collection of slightly loved movie set clothing (7675 Edmonds St in Burnaby, in an office building next to 7-11). She will donate half the profits to the Alumni Scholarship Fund.

After that, we're going to go out for lunch and a pint at a secret location. OK, that's not so secret either. It's at Oliver Twist Pub at 7557 Edmonds, Burnaby. The event will be held on Sunday March 11th of March.

We will get to shop at Sylvie's studio from 10:00 to 12:30 am and then go for lunch at the pub.

Because it's such a secret you can't tell anyone where you’re going. Scrap that. Tell everyone. Bring your friends. Bring your classmates. Bring your Mom. Anyone who wants to come.

Hope to see you there.

Duane Unplugged

Paul McCartney and Self Doubt

Interviewer:

  In a recent interview (Globe and Mail January 28), Sir Paul McCartney said he was jealous of one person in particular. The reporter quipped - who could he possibly be jealous of? God? Nelson Mandela? Turns out it was Rod Stewart.

  Rod Stewart? Yes... it turns out that Rod beat him to the punch. Rod had released his album of classics "The Great American Songbook" in 2002 to great acclaim. Sir Paul's roots included a lot of those songs and he said that he "fretted over" doing it because of Rod; he said every time he thought about doing it he backed down.

  Yet, despite his fear, he decided to release his own version anyway ("Kisses on the Bottom" with Canadian Diana Krall and her band). For what it is worth, the journalist Elizabeth Renzetti says this about the title "I think we can all agree that's probably the worst record title in the history of recorded music, and move on”"

  In considering the juxtaposition of fame and fear, it feels like people who have achieved what Paul has would be fearless musically. I mean how much more evidence does one need? And yet, here he is, the legend worried about expanding into the unknown with his music. It reminds me of the smartest kid in class saying they are sure they got a bad grade on a test or someone who is clearly slim saying they need to go on a diet. My initial reaction is "Yeah, right" but I remember myself feeling that way both in class and about my weight.

  This sounds like our suspicion of self rearing its ugly head in spite of massive amounts of evidence to the contrary. You spoke to this in your lecture about Living a 3D Life.  Can you share your thoughts on this? Second question, have you experienced this fear musically?

  Duane:

  Paul McCartney also recently commented that he sometimes wakes up in the morning and has to remind himself that he was one of the Beatles! Can you imagine that? Even at this stage of his career! You'd think that with his accomplishments (as well as  worldwide notoriety and fame), this would be a given. Apparently not.

  This interview came on the heels of a preview of Cirque du Soleil's 'Love', the tribute to the Beatles' body of work.  He mentioned that he was still surprised that that small moment in time - with his guitar and John sitting in a small space in the back of a van outside Liverpool scribbling some ideas on a small piece of paper together - could produce such big moments, as evidenced by the profound Cirque spectacle in front of him. 

  Perhaps this contains the answer to your question. 

  The true assessment of ourselves is a private one that the glorified opinion the world holds has very little to do with. Despite the acclaim and egocentric worldwide hoopla, Paul's relationship with his own creativity, expression and realization of self proceeds at a pace similar to yours and mine. On that note this private relationship reveals a truer reflection of our evaluation of self. 

  Is Paul's plight any different than our own? 

  The suspicion of his self may be as alive and as well as our own... but perhaps more difficult to deal with. His is surrounded with such massive ego driven applause that it would appear, on one hand, to drown out any questions he may have running about himself. But perhaps the converse is true as well. Is it possible that in private moments, at the end of the day staring into a mirror, that the contrast cannot be obscured and may be even more pronounced, and as a result more tragic?

  For many, this contrast is hard to take. Some swallow pills instead to fill the gap. Whitney Houston and Michael Jackson come to mind, but there are many more. The measure of who they were in the world view was a million miles beyond who they feared they actually were. This was their true wrestling match - one that they were not allowed to have and yet needed.  

  I do not believe that this wrestling match is a signal or sign that Paul, Whitney, Michael or you or me are off course. It IS the course. This wrestling match is the only game in town.  Press clippings, reviews, makeup... once all this debris is cleared we still have a meeting at the end of the day with the mirror. This long overdue face-to-face with self and, dare I say, God is a natural, healthy and vital scrimmage. 

  The conventions of the Western world do little to accommodate or bless this natural process. Many aboriginal cultures, on the other hand, design their rituals and rites of passage with this in full view all of the time.  Whether it's a young aboriginal man sent to the Outback in Australia with nothing but a spear and a loin cloth, or the young First Nations woman on a solo four-day Vision Quest with no food or water, they are walking into the arena for a naked face-to-face with their self and the cosmos to answer one question: 'Who are you?'

  So witnessing Paul's humility gave me hope rather than cause for alarm.  He continues to be driven to answer the question of who he is. Is the mystery of the answer to this question not the fuel of life itself? Are we ever at the finish line with the quintessential answer? I doubt it. I hope not. The length of time I can embrace the magnitude of the question and not settle for the smallness of the answer is a good measure of my happiness. 

  Personally, regarding my own musical trials, before I discover 'I can' write a song, I have to first meet the voice of 'I can't'. Each and every time. For many of my early adult years I agreed with 'I can't' and just stopped and lived with it.  Later I stayed with the question with the ego screaming a not so flattering answer. I learned to stand my ground naked in my own view, defenceless and willing to experience something else other than a self imposed death sentence.  I would have a glimpse of something, hear something in the middle of the cacophony of self doubt that I would walk towards.  The more I was brave enough to walk towards it the bigger it became and the path clearer... the song would emerge in increments. 

  This was the birthplace of the experience of Faith for me. I have taken this into my work with Clearmind. 

  A few years back on a break at a workshop, a Prac student and assistant came up to me to comment on the successful process that I just facilitated with a near-suicidal participant.  She said to me that she doubted that she could ever pull that off and doubted her ability to become a facilitator. She asked me how did I know what to do? I replied to her that I did not know what to do. I went on to say that the only difference between her and I is that after all of these years I have faith that I will know what to do.  The clues will come. I will stick around long enough to witness the clue and catch a glimpse of the way through. 

  Is this not what Paul McCartney still experiences? Does he not welcome the question of what is to come as he plucks that first note on his guitar as much as he may detest the endless hollering of the ego's answer to the question? 

  Is this not true also for you and I, in every moment of every situation that we encounter, whether it be a relationship struggle, career questions, or a creative process?  Is there not a song waiting for you in all of these situations waiting for someone to deliver it? 

  The song is called 'Who are you?'