Momento mori
When a conquering emperor returned to Rome he was often granted a triumph. Crowds. Loot. Bread and circuses. The conquered enemy displayed and humiliated.
Legend has it that the emperor had in his chariot a slave who, as well as holding a golden wreath over his head, whispered words to remind him of his human-ness … perhaps “Respica te, hominem te memento” (“Look behind you, remember you are only a man”) or “Memento mori” (“Remember (that you are) mortal”).
I’m not suggesting you need to parade your enemies in the street in pursuit of your Great Work or even that you need a slave to hold your golden wreath.
=> But who’s your truth teller?
Not your cynic.
Not your critic.
But your truth teller, that someone who can create a small still space for you where you can hear what’s really going on, where you can confront your own frailties and blind-spots and short-comings.
I’ve got three, because I need all the help I can get.
I have a Brain Trust, a mastermind group made up of Eric, Jen, Mark and Molly.
I’ve got my coach Ernest.
And I’ve got my business partner Marcella.
They’re all willing and able to call me on what’s going on in a way that’s straight and compassionate, and in a way that calls me forward to my Great Work.
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The Jungian Analyst Robert Johnson tells a story about how when he would do a good job at something, especially something out in the world, he would come home and do something humble like clean toilets. I found having a teenager works just about as well as a slave whispering about my mortality.
LOVE being someone who can do the same for you, dear friend.
My daughters keep my shadow side in view, reminding me when my voice gets that ‘holier-than-thou’ tone, or ‘are-you-a-moron” impatient edge, or my enthusiasm roller coaster flies off the tracks. Sometime I’m grateful; sometimes being reminded of my stuff just gets my dander up.