As I’m driving through rural Alabama, I’m thinking about Tibetan Singing Bowls. You know, as you do on a road trip.
You play a Tibetan Singing Bowl by rubbing a mallet along the outside edge of the rim of the bowl. The bowl creates the space from which the sound is coaxed and held, but in terms of movement the sensation is one of going deep, made possible by the circling. Going in circles, then, isn’t a movement of going nowhere, but has instead a ritualistic quality, creating a certain kind of space and moment that emerges from the interaction of many vibrations, individual and collective. Sound not only seems to rise from the bowl, it expands, moves out, touches and surrounds the space within its reach.
In those moments where the sheet of paper stays blank and the club’s empty, it’s important realizing that showing up everyday and creating is our circling, and thereby expanding, moving out and going deeper. In allowing ourselves to be soothed by this ritual rather than second guessing it, we inch closer to that Gladwellian tipping point and affect far more than we realize.