Rafe Furst

       When I first met Ronit and began attending Leap Forward meetings, I had no idea that I had been in emotional pain for a very long time.  I was numb to my feelings, terrified of them, and numb to the terror itself.  The authentic me was trapped under layers upon layers of emotional defenses developed throughout my life.  Growing up I did not experience any obvious trauma or hardship, so I had no reason to suspect any of the above was true.  But somewhere deep down I sensed the lifeline Ronit and the community were giving to me.

       It took two years for me to be able to describe what I was feeling (as opposed to thinking) and to begin to peel back the layers of defenses.  The motivating pain to transform came through a shocking realization on a Leap Forward video call: that by not changing, I was perpetuating my suffering onto my children.  The rage I felt briefly broke through the terror and numbness I’d been trapped in for 40 years.  This was the beginning of the real inner work I would do in community over the next decade (and counting).

       Looking back it seems like a miracle that I was able to muster the courage to stay in the fire that Ronit stoked in me. Were it not for the other members of the community also experiencing their own fire and transformation, I would undoubtedly have quit — as I had done so many times when my endeavors felt hard — and I would have been none the wiser… but infinitely worse off.

       Being able to stay present, open-hearted, and helpful when those around me are experiencing distress or fear has been one of the greatest gifts imaginable.  This was near-impossible for me prior to Leap Forward, especially with my wife and kids when they were upset.  I would emotionally check out, or deny, minimize, or even blame them for their own feelings.

       Similarly, in my professional life, my fear of intense emotions (in myself and others) limited my capacity to be a team player, an effective leader, and my ability to honor my agreements and promises — traits I highly value.  Instead of taking responsibility for my own actions, I would try to control how others acted, felt, and perceived me.  I was living from my head, not my heart and body.

       It would take an entire book to describe what’s changed inside to allow me to experience my loved ones with more ease and joy, and to approach my work from a place of principle.  And to be clear, I’m not talking about even a majority of the time.  But having even temporary, embodied experiences of freedom and flow gives me confidence — and a hunger for more.

       Instead of fearing pain and guarding against feeling it, I’m learning to learn from it as one of my best teachers.  Seeking the source of my pain and fear is the Leap.  I used to think this required grand gestures, but I now understand that the biggest leaps are often heralded by subtle internal whispers: “tell her how that off-handed remark made me feel,” or “don’t procrastinate, do it now,” or “ask for help — I’m not alone.”  This daily, moment-to-moment practice — however imperfect — is what is transforming my life, and the lives of those closest to me.