A political path to inner peace

I am in Cuyahoga County, Ohio.  You’ve probably never heard of Cuyahoga; I hadn’t either before arriving here three days ago.  It is the most populous county in the state and home to the city of Cleveland.  The 1.5 million people in the surrounding area—or those that actually vote—may very well decide tomorrow’s election for President.  I came here with few expectations and a whole lot of enthusiasm.  My first morning, I set out with a new friend—also from the South and also studying in Cambridge—to “canvas” or knock on doors.  We had a map, a list of voter names, and a general idea of what to say when a door opened to our knock.  We knew the folks on our list were already likely supporters of President Obama, so our goal was to get them out of their houses and into the polls.  What followed was a profound learning experience for me. The streets we walked were filled with abandoned and boarded houses.  The housing crisis was particularly hard on this area, leaving in its wake

I recently left the world of politics for the world of business.  To my surprise, the cultures have not turned out to be as distinct as I imagined.  Except for one glaring exception: me.  In Washington, I considered myself a moderate in a town of party loyalists.  Much to the chagrin of my friends, I could even be found making libertarian arguments from time to time.  I was progressive, certainly.  A registered democrat, yes.  But I was really just a novice in a sea of experts, and still green enough on any given issue to challenge both red and blue. At Sloan, my politics have morphed into my persona—like I am wearing a sign around my neck that says, “Let’s talk about the election!”  Except that it’s not just the sign that is saying it.   The words are literally coming out of my mouth. I can’t help it.  It’s like a Potomac virus has gotten into my bloodstream, traveled north to my brain, and rearranged synapses so that I absolutely must speak about the state of

Cross-posted from MIT Sloan's Admissions Blog , where I will be writing about my experience in the MBA admissions process (painful!) and my first semester as an MBA student (glorious!). This post goes out the poets, the ladies, and anyone from a non-business background who shudders at the world “derivative.”  Hear ye, hear ye: You are my people! My name is Caroline Mauldin, and I am a first year MBA candidate at MIT Sloan School of Management.  I have never worked in finance, or commercial real estate, or energy, or management consulting.  Until recently, I thought PE was an acronym for that treacherous elementary school class in which we had to run a mile and do push-ups in front of our pre-adolescent classmates (physical education, also not my thing).  Turns out it stands for Private Equity.  Right! Though originally from South Carolina, there’s something about Boston that keeps pulling me back.  I received my Bachelor’s degree from Tufts University, later worked at a Bost

Some of my notes from a recent seminar on personal transitions with Atum O'Kane --friend, spiritual guide, and treasured teacher (who led our pilgrimage to Bhutan in 2010). My life is a persistent push-pull between the soul and the ego. When is the ego a stubborn guide when the soul longs to lead?   How do I live so that both are tools on my path and together manifest as the identity I seek?  

I feel a certain urgency of years passing. The brevity of the beating heart. The responsibility of standing on solid ground With able mind and spirit. There is so much to do, so many good people to know, so much good to see and to do.  I wonder what I am doing with my life. how I am using it, Must make the most of it; think, write, fly, land, speak, negotiate, give, smile, think some more.  Every moment in pursuit of meaning, of fulfillment, and of purpose.  I want my life to spill over with life. 

From the Sufi Master, Hazrat Inayat Khan: The tendency to doubt, to be depressed, the tendency towards fear, suspicion and confusion, the tendency to puzzle -- where does it all come from? It all comes from the thought of getting something in return: 'will another give me back what I have given him? Shall I get the just portion back, or less?' if that is the thought behind one's acts there will be fear, doubt, suspicion, puzzle and confusion. For what is doubt? Doubt is a cloud that stands before the sun, keeping it from shining its light. So is doubt: gathering around the soul it keeps its light from shining out, and man becomes confused and perplexed. Once selflessness is developed, it breaks through the cloud saying, 'What do I care whether anyone appreciates it; I only know to give my service, and that is all my satisfaction. I do not look forward to get it back. I have given and it is finished; this is where my duty ends.' That person is blessed, because he has

This is obviously a personal blog, but my work with the Open Government Partnership has been so influential in my life over the past 18 months that I feel compelled to mention it here.  In a sentence: OGP has revived my faith in the ability of governments to fulfill their obligation to provide for their people.   This past Monday, I spoke to a conference organized by the National Democratic Institute, the Sunlight Foundation, the Government of Mexico, and the Latin American Network for Legislative Transparency, on the Open Government Partnership (OGP) and how it can advance transparency in parliaments and legislatures around the world.  Wonky as they may be, my remarks reflect some of the ethos that I employed in building OGP over the past year--primarily, the importance of dialogue and perspective in building a new international initiative. *** Having been so close to the Open Government Partnership over the past year, it still shocks me to hear other people--such as the Mexica

In January, I had the great fortune to accompany the Under Secretary of State to Chile and Colombia, where we held meetings with government officials, civil society leaders, and university students on a range of issues, including but not limited to open government, transitional justice, trafficking in persons, and protecting the human rights of vulnerable populations, such as LGBT and indigenous communities. Aside from an important diplomatic mission, Chile for me was a long-awaited return to the land of my undergraduate studies. In between official meetings, I relished in the nostalgia of the avenues I walked eight years before and the coffee houses where I wrote my thesis (on the role of small businesses in the negotiation of the Chile-US free trade agreement!). My sense of association with Chileans remains strong, and it was exquisite to return as a more seasoned version of my student-self. From Chile, a dear friend/colleague and I diverted from our official diplomatic duties

March 23, 2012 The sun seems brighter through the window of an airplane.  Rays so strong they take on tactile sensation, a gold paintbrush across my cheek.  We are chasing the light, skating west across this giant country whose size is bewildering every time I take half a moment to consider it.  Six hours to fly across 48 contiguous states united under one flag.  I am struck by how little I know of my own nation, and of the people who share the privilege of my citizenship. Tonight’s destination is San Francisco--glorious, soulful California.  Without having ever lived there, I already feel it is home to a future self.  It’s March 23rd--one fourth of the way through the year--and this is the 25th plane I’ve boarded in 2012.  Where has the year gone? Truthfully, I am sick of planes and perilously close to being sick of traveling altogether.  I want to be home, not always dividing my time between airports and unpacking.  I feel the weight of life choices not mindfully made. On the

Life is very full.  Even in the quiet moments, like this overcast Sunday morning, it feels saturated with goodness.  To reflect on the elements of that goodness--to unpack the saturation--is a daunting task.  So I shall begin with a calendar review--a chronicle as much for my future self as for my friends and family who are wondering where I've been all this time. July Shortly after standing next to Kathleen and Austin in their glorious celebration of life and love, I returned to Washington only to discover that someone had stolen my laptop and jewelry out of my apartment.  It was a final straw in what had been a difficult chapter at this particular residence.  Despondent, I struggled to find solace in the Buddhist practice.   Release attachment to material things.  Move forward, embracing the empty space that the stolen goods left as an opportunity to fill my life with positive energy.  In a matter of days, I would be moving to a new address with a new roommate.  A new chapter