Many of the mystics, particularly those who were great proponents of contemplative prayer, seemed to be able to keep a tight rein on the relationship between Hope and Desire.
They seem to be continually reminding themselves and others how important is is to keep our “selfish” desires as much as possible out of the way. It is almost as if for us to “see” spiritual or theological Hope when our personal desires get in the way.
There is a direct relationship between this effect and how contemplative prayer affects our prayer life. As we consent to allow God’s presence to seep through us in Grace by praying without agenda or particular need, we can see and feel the effect on our true selves. The feeling of peace and change in our disposition becomes evident over time. Even at times, we might feel this is not easily perceived by ourselves but is often recognized by others.
Desire can obscure true Hope, the Hope that comes from God and replace it with our own version of Hope. One which talks to us about the “next” thing we need in our lives, the new possession, perhaps a new car, job or other objective.
Desires of course, come in other forms as well. We want to have problems resolved, perhaps in relationships with others, something I always try and attune to, even if I am unsuccessful some of the time.
Separating my personal, self-centered Desire from Hope is perhaps the most assured way of allowing God’s Grace and Hope, honest Hope to appear on the horizon.
It’s a complex question, and at times, I think our personal desires and God’s are fully coincidental. However, more often than not, His plans for us will seep out into the world more completely, if we allow God to do work within, and through us. It is not by accident we are called to be “an instrument of peace” in the world.
I’ve recently been reading a book called The Heart of Trauma by Bonnie Badenoch. Bonnie is a therapist who has been dealing with trauma patients for several decades. She is a well-known expert in this field. She has a great capacity to identify with the technical aspects of therapy and its spiritual intersection. Something that is often missing from modern therapy. Many enter therapy expecting results in a short period of time, in the same way as we have come to expect results from getting our car fixed or medication that will cure us of our illnesses. The results of this strategy are not good. A recent study shows that empathy amongst many in society has declined by a massive 75%, as society becomes more focused on self-fulfilling needs versus helping others less fortunate.
When it comes to the brain, and in this case the heart, life is not so simple, as we all know. Miss Badenoch explains that some of the single-minded thinking that seems to dominate our world today, comes from my reliance on using the left hemisphere of our brain more than the right. Now without getting into the details of her book the interesting observation that I made, was the relationship between the implicit results-oriented left brain, and the explicit meaning of what is happening in our lives that the right brain controls.
There has been some debate in these circles for many years, that the left brain and the right brain thinking tends to dominate our personalities. The simplistic view we have been given is that the scientific aspect of our brain is the left-hand side, and the artistic side is the right-hand side. It turns out, just in the same way as our lives, that both sides are dependent on each other. In the same way that our heart often determines our decision-making process, in conjunction with our head, therefore making decisions that have some meanings built into them rather than just opinions or results.
This interdependence between our head and our heart is the core of the healing that Miss Badenoch and her clients search for together in her therapy groups. In the same way, as we are searching for meaning in our own lives, we cannot deal with problems in isolation, we have to search for meaning and understanding in order to be able to reach some semblance of peace as a result.
I guess my point in this reflection is that science is starting to recognize that our heart, our spirit, and our soul are a much more important compass for us to manage our way through our lives. And of course, with God at the center of all of those, we can be assured that the movement that we make toward peace and reconciliation will be better as a result of being guided by Him.
Copyright 2025 Reflection, audio and Image Michael J. Cunningham
During Lent, we often focus on behaviors or things that we’d like to do less of and on virtues that we ought to practice more. These fall into the traditional categories we’re drawn towards during this sacred season: fasting, giving, and prayer.
Fasting can be abstaining from things that injure us or others. Giving might not be just sharing money or possessions but offering the goodness that’s within us. And, of course, we cannot forget prayer, which connects us to the divine source of all goodness.
When you think about it, most of our spiritual actions revolve around either doing something or not doing something. But today, I’d like to examine something else: what happens before action. As was mentioned recently in one of recent zoom retreats, the average human has somewhere in the vicinity of 60,000 thoughts per day. We don’t take action on or pay attention to many of them, but even if we act on just 5% of those thoughts, that’s still a considerable amount of activity during the course of a day.
But where do these thoughts come from, and what can we do about them? Let’s go back to John Cassian in the 3rd century. He journeyed to the desert, away from all the temptations and distractions that resided in the city, believing he might find peace there. But of course, it turned out to be the case that even in the desert, he found himself distracted—not by physical temptations, but by the thoughts associated with them. Others in that monastic tradition would call this the “monkey mind”—you can’t stop thinking, an endless stream of thoughts.
What Cassian discovered was profound: if you think about something long enough, if you dwell on a thought, it goes from being just a thought to becoming a desire. And then if you dwell on that desire, it amplifies until it becomes a passion. When something becomes a passion, you almost inevitably do something about it. And of course, depending on whether that’s on the right or wrong side of things, that can either turn out to be a vice or a virtue.
But whichever way it goes—vice or virtue—what follows is a deepening of that pattern. The action reinforces our goals, which reinforces our desires, which strengthens our passions, and the cycle continues. Many years later, modern psychology would describe this same pattern: think about doing something, do it, do it multiple times, and it tends to become a habit. The cycle works for both our destructive and constructive tendencies. And so, behavioral psychology is born.
Spiritual practices developed over the centuries, particularly centering prayer from the Cloud of Unknowing in the 13th century, focus heavily on not engaging with your thoughts. When thoughts come, they aren’t rare or unusual—they’re just part of being human. The practice isn’t to try to make your mind go blank but rather to let thoughts drift by. Rather like you’re standing on the shore and boats are passing by—eventually they will disappear from view. Eventually the thought will dissipate, and you’ll still be there in silent prayer.
During this Lenten season, I’d like to suggest something: try thinking about your thoughts before you respond to them. Before you act on an impulse, pause. Instead of going straight from thought to action, create a space, even if just a few moments, for serious listening to yourself.
You may find you begin to make a different kind of decision as soon as you pause. That pause introduces some level of discernment. It’s not necessarily asking, “What would Jesus do?” before you make that turn left, but it’s worth trying—for 24 hours, perhaps.
Many years ago, I wrote myself a note (I do that occasionally when I want to remind myself of something). This particular note was “Add 10 seconds just before responding.” Ten seconds can be a long time, but isn’t it interesting that the people who actually think about something before they respond seem to have a more measured, more interesting, or maybe more insightful and appropriate response than those who go straight from thought to mouth without any interference from the brain or the heart?
Something to think about for this Lenten day. Have a blessed weekend.
Add + Ten Seconds
Add ten seconds to each moment,
And my response would be better,
kinder, warmer, more forgiving,
than my first.
But can I ever be as loving as He is to me?
Reflection, image and poem Copyright 2025 Michael J. Cunningham
I remember when I first encountered the concept of servant leadership. Like many terms we hear in management circles, I initially wondered if this was just another buzzword passing through the corporate landscape. But as I’ve reflected on it over the years, I’ve come to see that it touches something much deeper in our human experience – something that perhaps has always been there, waiting for us to recognize it.
Many of us have spent decades in leadership positions—navigating the currents of business, community organizations, and our families. We’ve seen management theories rise and fall like tides. We’ve weathered economic storms. We’ve adapted to technological transformations that changed how we connect and create.
But today, I’d like us to consider something that isn’t merely a trend or a temporary fashion. It’s a timeless approach to leadership that operates in that liminal space between authority and humility. It’s called “Servant Leadership.”
The question I invite us to sit with today is this: Aren’t all true leaders actually servants?
Think about the leaders who have most influenced your journey. Were they the ones who demanded respect through position and authority? Or were they those rare individuals who, like dolphins moving through water, found their path within the current rather than fighting against it? Those who earned your respect not through title but through how they empowered others and advanced something greater than themselves?
THE SPACE BETWEEN LEADING AND SERVING
The term “Servant Leadership” was coined by Robert Greenleaf in 1970, though the concept has existed for thousands of years across many spiritual traditions and cultures. It occupies that fascinating threshold between conventional leadership and something more profound.
Greenleaf was inspired by Hermann Hesse’s novel “Journey to the East,” where the central character is a servant who disappears from a group of travelers. Without him, the group falls into disarray, and they eventually discover he was actually the head of the great order that sponsored their journey.
The insight is simple yet transformative: true leadership begins with the desire to serve others, not with the desire to lead or gain power. Like the mystics who found God not despite suffering but through it, true leaders find their authority not despite service but through it.
RECOGNIZING THE SERVANT IN OURSELVES
I suspect every one of us has practiced servant leadership at some point in our lives, perhaps without having language for it.
Consider Molly (and I’m borrowing from a story I often share). She sits at her kitchen table early one morning, the weight of yesterday’s harsh words with her daughter feeling like a stone in her heart. Her leadership in that moment isn’t about asserting authority, but about finding a path toward healing and connection. The harmony she seeks isn’t about erasing feelings but about weaving them into the bigger tapestry of their relationship.
Many of us who are parents and supporters of children, have lived this paradox. We’ve put our children’s needs ahead of our own. We’ve surrendered sleep, comfort, money and sometimes our own ambitions to create spaces where they could flourish. We’ve held both our sadness and our hope in a delicate balance.
In our careers, the best among us mentored younger colleagues without seeking recognition. We shared knowledge instead of hoarding it for advantage. When things went wrong, we stepped forward. When things went right, we stepped back.
Let me ask you: When in your life have you felt most fulfilled as a leader? Was it when you received accolades, or was it when you witnessed others succeed because of the space you helped create for them? When you saw the ripples of your small acts of service moving outward in ways you could never have anticipated?
THE MIND, HEART, AND WILL OF SERVICE
One of the hardest lessons of leadership—one that I’m still learning myself—is managing what Theory U (developed by Otto Scharmer at MIT) would call the three gates: the open mind, the open heart, and the open will.
If I’m being honest, there have been times in my career when I’ve listened with my ears but not with my heart, when I’ve observed situations through the lens of judgment rather than empathy, when I’ve acted from past patterns rather than present possibilities.
For those of my (older) generation especially, we were often taught that leadership meant having all the answers, being visible, making unilateral decisions. Servant leadership invites us into a different space – what spiritual traditions might call a liminal space – where we’re not sure what happens next, where we don’t appear to have control over next steps and direction.
As Lao Tzu said: “The best leader is the one when the job is done, the people say ‘we did it ourselves.'”
That’s both a humbling and a liberating standard, isn’t it?
THE PARADOX OF PRESENCE
Here’s the paradox we need to wrestle with: True leadership often means becoming less visible while becoming more present. Your greatest impact may come when your title and authority fade into the background.
In Theory U, Scharmer describes this as “presencing” – connecting to the deepest source of yourself and acting from the emerging whole rather than from isolated parts. The question becomes: What mission in your life matters enough that you’d be willing to step out of the spotlight? What cause is important enough that you’d let go of credit and control?
KEY PRINCIPLES OF SERVANT LEADERSHIP
Let me share some key principles that define servant leadership in practice. You might notice how they resemble the steps in both spiritual journeys and organizational transformation:
Holding Space – Creating environments where people can speak truth without fear. Where mistakes are viewed as learning opportunities. Where questions and challenges are welcomed. This isn’t passive listening but active creation of safety.
Observing – Suspending judgment and seeing with fresh eyes. How many problems in our organizations could have been avoided if leaders had just looked with an open mind rather than through the filters of past experience?
Sensing – Connecting with empathy and seeing things as interconnected wholes. In our careers, we’ve all worked with difficult people, but the best leaders find ways to connect with and bring out the best in everyone by seeing the whole person, not just their behavior in isolated moments.
Presencing – Being fully present and connected to purpose. This gets easier with age, doesn’t it? We’ve had enough failures to know we’re not infallible, enough successes to know what matters.
Crystallizing – Clarifying vision and intention. This is about balancing the urgent with the important, the immediate with the eternal.
Prototyping – Learning by doing, avoiding paralysis by analysis. Servant leadership means having the courage to act imperfectly rather than waiting for perfect conditions.
Performing – Bringing it all together in service of the greater whole. How many of us have experienced toxic work environments? Servant leadership is the antidote.
CREATING CULTURES WHERE PEOPLE THRIVE
In my experience, the most successful organizations are those where people thrive, not just survive. They’re like the dolphins describes – moving with grace in their environment and behavior toward each other.
Think about the difference:
In a survival environment, people operate from fear. They compete for recognition. They hoard information. They play politics. They do the minimum necessary.
In a thriving environment, people operate from trust. They collaborate. They share information freely. They take the initiative without being asked. They go above and beyond because they want to, not because they have to.
As someone who has spent decades in management, I’ve seen both types of organizations. I suspect we’ve all contributed to both types at different points in our careers.
The question is: Which kind of environment did we create? Did people leave our teams better than they arrived? Did they grow in capabilities and confidence under our leadership? Were our organizations more like the barista who carried a moment of grace home to her son, or more like the traffic that hums beyond the window, unaware of the life happening within?
A thriving culture built on servant leadership principles includes:
Psychological Safety – Creating spaces where truth can be spoken without fear.
Justice and Fairness – With transparent decision-making and consistent accountability at all levels.
Non-Judgmental Acceptance – Valuing people for who they are, not just what they produce.
Nurturing Growth – Aligning development with individual strengths and purpose.
And yes, Love – Not a word we’ve often used in business vocabulary, but perhaps should have. Genuine care for the whole person, not just their productive capacity.
VULNERABILITY AND SURRENDER
Now, I know that words like “vulnerability” and “surrender” might make some of us uncomfortable. They certainly weren’t part of the leadership vocabulary when many of us started our careers. But then again, neither were words like “agile” or “disruption.”
But I’ve learned that vulnerability—acknowledging limits, admitting mistakes, expressing uncertainty—isn’t weakness. It’s actually strength. It builds trust. It creates space for others to be authentic too. Like the mystics who knew that emptiness teems with possibility, leaders who embrace vulnerability create space for new ideas and approaches to emerge.
And surrender doesn’t mean giving up. It means letting go of rigid control. It means trusting others enough to carry the mission forward, perhaps in ways different than we would. In Theory U terms, it’s about “letting go and letting come.”
I’ll be the first to admit that these are still challenging for me.
PRACTICAL APPLICATION
So where do we go from here? Let me suggest a few practices that might help us move towards servant leadership:
Begin each day with intention – Not a to-do list, but a being list. Who do you want to be today as a leader? How might you serve the mission, not personal ambition?
Practice redirecting attention – Make it a habit to highlight what others are doing well. Be the mirror that reflects their light back to them.
Create regular reflection time – Ask yourself honestly whose needs you’re serving in your decisions. Are you listening to what life is calling you to do?
Find companions for the journey – At our stage of life, we need people who will speak truth to us with love. Who will help us see our blind spots.
Celebrate the ripples – Notice and honor the moments when your small acts of service create changes you never anticipated. When the work continues without your involvement. This is the ultimate success of a servant leader.
CONCLUSION
As we enter what some might call the contemplative stage of our lives, many of us find ourselves thinking about legacy. What will we leave behind? How will we be remembered?
The servant leadership approach suggests that our greatest achievement may be in the ripples we never see – the lives touched by those we’ve served, the changes that began with our small acts of kindness and attention.
As Robert Greenleaf put it: “The true test of a servant-leader is this: Do those served grow as persons? Do they, while being served, become healthier, wiser, freer, more autonomous, more likely themselves to become servants?”
That’s a standard worth aspiring to, isn’t it? Even if, like the mystics seeking union with the divine, we never fully reach it in this lifetime.
Look closely at your hands. Really look at them. These are the instruments of your leadership, the tools of your service. Divine love wearing human skin, though we forget this most days, caught up in quarterly reports and strategic plans.
What ripples might you create today? What spaces might you hold open? What growth might you nurture?
Thank you for your presence and attention.
LETMEBEYOURSERVERTODAY
Each step is an active part of my love.
Moving towards the table needing clearing,
Responding to an empty cup,
Smiling to a face far from home.
Reponses vary,
According to mood and pressure.
Sometimes I am invisible,
No one sees me,
Only what I deliver,
And if it’s on time.
However, there is always one,
One who sees me and what I do,
For what it really is,
Loving and giving,
Supporting and consistent.
There when others need me,
No asking for gifts or rewards from them.
Just a smile and greeting,
To show they love me.
Just as I love them.
Copyright Reflection, Poem and Image 2025 Michael J. Cunningham
