Radical Hope #16: Begin Where You Already Are

Radical Hope #16

You are a body that thinks.

You are nature.

You are the field of awareness in which everything happens.

What is calling you?

Two weeks ago I asked what is ours to do, and then I stopped and left the question hanging.

That was deliberate.

I wanted the question to settle in you, so that whatever came would come from somewhere deeper than the planning mind.

This is the sixteenth newsletter in a series called From Generative Practice to Radical Hope. I am exploring why deep personal development — somatic, psychological, contemplative — is not a retreat from the polycrisis but the very ground from which genuine engagement becomes possible.

It is also the last one in this series.

Stepping in

In 2015, Steve Gilligan and Robert Dilts, with their UK sponsors Robbie Steinhouse and Judith Lowe, invited me to the first Generative Coaching programme in the UK. I went as an observer and had a great time trying out the exercises with Robbie and Judith, and connecting with sponsors of trainings from across Europe, including Russia.

Over various lunches and dinners, the European and Russian sponsors were developing a conversation about founding an International Association for Generative Change.

At some point they decided to take a photograph of the people who would be the founders.

I was standing by, watching idly.

At the very last minute Steve said, "join us".

I had a real question about whether I was sufficiently involved in their field to honestly be in that photograph. But I thought, why the hell not. I’ve been invited.

Something went very quiet in me, and slightly in shock, wondering what I was doing, I stepped in. I sat on the executive committee that founded the association for the next several years. Through it I came to know people from half a dozen countries, and some of those friendships have lasted ever since.

There was no intention in it. I was in the right place, listening.

It has always begun with the few

When the world feels overwhelmed by disorder, it helps to remember that transformation has never begun with the many.

It has always begun with the few — a small, thoughtful, committed handful who would not let hopelessness have the last word. (1)

What’s happening around you in your life now?

You will have your own version of that moment. Probably several.

The thing I want to say, at the end of all this, is that you do not need to go anywhere. You do not need to find the right group, or start something, or wait until you are more ready than you are now.

You are already somewhere.

There are already people — the ones you work with, the ones in the group chat you hardly have time to read, the people you meet with in a weekly or monthly group, the neighbour you have been meaning to call. Communities that are already yours, whether or not you have ever thought of them that way.

And some of you have something less common. People, perhaps scattered across several countries, who you have done deep work alongside. People who see what your life is for and say yes to it, and who also say yes to the parts of you still healing. You may not meet them often. That is a community too, and the distance does not weaken it.

That is where it starts. Not because they are the right people, but because they are the actual ones.

And the move is smaller than you think. It is not a plan, and it is not a duty. It might be a person, or it might be something you keep reading about and have not yet fully explored. It is noticing what is already forming in you and near you, and stepping in before you have finished deciding whether you qualify.

An evening together in November

I would like to put the question properly, with other people, rather than leave you alone with it.

I am going to host an evening online in November. It is called What Is Mine to Do? We will drop into some meditative depth first — because the answer really does differ depending on where the question is asked from — and then ask it from there. And then, rather than everyone going quietly home with a private resolution, each of us will share in a small group.

The sharing is the important thing. A personal enquiry shared out aloud to another human being is a small, real instance of what this series is about. It is a simple curious enquiry with yourself, witnessed by a few others. There will be no pressure to “flock”, no conscious intention to organise, at least from me. Flocking happens on its own, or it does not happen. All any of us can do is be in the room.

There is nothing to prepare and nothing to produce afterwards. I am not trying to form a group.

I am not fixing the date yet. It will be mid-November, and I will post it in the WhatsApp groups as soon as I know — the links are at the foot of this newsletter if you are not already in one.

A Practice

Asking from somewhere deeper

Sit somewhere you will not be interrupted, when you have space for some nourishing time with yourself.

Begin by letting the thinking settle. Feel the weight of your body on the chair, your feet on the floor. Follow the breath down into the belly a few times, without managing it. Let whatever you were turning over before you sat down carry on turning over somewhere else for a while.

Wait until something softens. It may take a few minutes. It may take longer. Take your time: the question benefits from a deeper and more relaxed field.

When you are settled, ask quietly: what is mine to do?

Then stop. Do not answer it. Let it sit in you the way a stone sits at the bottom of a pond, and see what comes up of its own accord — which may be an image, or a person’s face, or something small and oddly specific, or nothing at all today.

If you like, do this practice three days in a row without seeking an answer. Simply drop the stone in the pond and let it settle at the bottom.

Whatever comes, give it time to be felt before you start assessing it.

Then, gently, let your attention move outwards to the people already around you. Not the people you think you should be working with. The actual ones.

And notice whether what came up has somewhere to land among them.

The Book

There is no next newsletter in this series.

This series has been the book finding its shape, and now the book has to be written — Standing at the Edge of Hope. Much of what we have walked through is in it, and a good deal that is not: what calling is and how mastery serves it, the deep rest underneath all this activity, and what it asks of us to look honestly at our own country’s history.

You have witnessed my enquiry for eight months. Before I write the book, I would like to witness yours.

So: there is a questionnaire here. It takes about fifteen minutes, and you can leave and come back to it. I want to know what eight months of this actually did in your life.

Everyone who responds is acknowledged in the book. Anyone who answers in full gets a copy when it is published.

This is the last newsletter in the series. To read any of the previous ones, click here.

Thank you for walking with me. I will see some of you in November.

With love, hope, and curiosity,

Julian

Julian Russell is a psychotherapist, executive coach, writer, and committed fellow traveller through the territories of inner work and public life. Drawing on decades of somatic and contemplative practice, he helps people access the capacities they already carry. He is a co-founder of the Generative Citizen community — a gathering of people who understand that how we are matters as much as what we do. His forthcoming book, Standing at the Edge of Hope, explores why personal and spiritual development is not a retreat from the world’s crises, but the very ground from which transformative engagement becomes possible.

Notes

1. The idea that a small, committed group is what drives real change is almost always quoted as Margaret Mead’s — “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world…”. But no verified primary source for those words has ever been found in her published writing or her archive. I have therefore given the thought here in my own words, rather than as a quotation. Incidentally, Margaret Mead and my hero Gregory Bateson were married from 1936 to 1950. Those two have a lot to answer for!