Evan Renaerts

Let it Flow

January 14, 2008

Heavy rain and huge puddles again this morning, and each morning the sky (even the overcast sky) lightens a little earlier. When I listen carefully I can hear the tender green shoots of the crocus pushing through the earth and the buds forming on the trees – out of darkness and dormancy new life.

I notice how attached people become to hard work and detailed planning as the way forward and the way to achieve their goals. They aren’t wrong of course, hard work and good plans are components of success but they aren’t all of it.

Early in my own working life I had the experience of “work” becoming something else. I didn’t have language for it in the beginning and I probably didn’t even talk about it; I just went with it and smiled – my first taste of flow.

When flow happens it is like stepping into a parallel universe; you see the same sights and are aware of the mundane reality but at the same time people and activities and tasks and objectives all change shape and texture and seem to operate according to a different set of laws.

My own experience of this has been that some hidden master choreographer had trained and rehearsed every element of the project I was involved with. People moved through complex tasks with hardly any words needed and synchronicities of timing simply emerged – beyond all of our best laid plans. At the same time there was a quality of ease and joy among those doing the work; everyone wanted for each person to do well and to have fun and at the same time for the whole project to succeed.

A single day like this on a year-long project transformed the entire project. From that point forward people knew that they were a part of something that was greater than any individual and that they were a part of something that could lift them beyond what they had thought possible.

The puzzle with flow, although there are accounts of it in science , dance, theatre, sports and in almost every field, is how does it come about and how can we promote it. The answer seems to be part rigour and part mystery.

The rigour is in learning our parts whatever our field of endeavour. Flow seems to occur more readily when true expertise exists. The mystery lies in the fact that, no matter how expert we may be, we cannot force flow.

Flow requires trust; we must trust ourselves to go beyond expertise and beyond our much loved plans. Holding to anything is the antithesis of flow. The paradox in this is that all of that planning is part of the expertise – we have done our work and gotten ourselves ready; the only question left is can we then let go; can we overcome our fear of letting go?

There also seems to be a way that one can live all of life as flow — in flow. This remains a study for me; it can feel like walking the knife edge, how much to do, how much to allow.

Evan Renaerts
604 314 0835
evan@evanrenaerts.com