Whatever the Problem, Community is the Answer

This phrase is one that anchors so much of my work. It is a tag we use all of the time at Berkana. It is an invitation for people to see ways together. I often offer an alternative on this: whatever the dream, community is the answer.

Berkana’s 2009 Annual Report is out. It is a beautiful piece. It includes further description and stories about anchors like this. It also includes a model on taking change to scale, on working translocally — Name. Connect. Nourish. Illuminate. And it tells some of the story of Berkana shifting into it’s next level of self-organizing system.

A good read. Some great anchors for setting context. And a beautiful creation (with a bow to Lauren Parks in Berkana’s Boston office, and to Maira Rahme, who I met this year in Sweden for an Art of Hosting, for her design.

Enjoy.

Leadership Is Convening

Below is a piece that Chris Corrigan offered as part of an Art of Hosting Invitation we are creating for October 3-6, 2010 on Bowen Island.

I find myself experimenting with a lot of language on these invitations. Some of it wordy. Always appreciating a crispness — which Chris offers here.

“We are more aware than ever that human beings are living in complex systems. From the very large to the very small, traditional forms of organizing and leading are being tested and found wanting. What is missing?

Complex environments require additional leadership capacities in order for groups at any scale to find the way forward together. One of these practices is convening: calling together people around a shared purpose or inquiry to work together for community and organizational evolution.

Convening and facilitating participation is an art, and the art of hosting is a practice that works with personal and collective capacities to bring the best from ourselves and the groups we work with. If you are a facilitator, a leader, an internal consultant, a community member or an educator, the practice of this art is core to your work.”

Thanks Chris. And others (Meg Wheatley in particular comes to mind) that invites similarly. From Meg I learned more on “leader as host rather than hero.” Should be good for Bowen in the fall.

On Composing, Dancing, and Paradigm Shifting

I’m giving much attention these days to paradigm shifting. In thinking out loud. In writing. In receiving, that way in which things just seem to arrive when an intent is set. Together with colleagues, and in particular with fellow traveller, Teresa Posakony, I’m welcoming insights on tools, practices, advice for shifting paradigms.

A receiving today was in an email quoting the British Philosopher and Writer, Alan Watts.

“In music one does not make the end of a composition the point of the composition.

If that were so, the best conductors would be those who would play the fastest. There would be composers who would write only finales. People would go to concerts just to hear one crashing chord, because that is the end.

When dancing you don’t aim at a particular point in the room where you should arrive at. The whole point of the dancing is the dance.

But we don’t see (…) something brought by our education in our every day conduct: we thought of life by analogy with a journey with a pilgrimage which a has a serious purpose at the end and the thing was to get to that end, success whatever it is, or maybe heaven after you’re dead.

But we miss the point: the whole way along it was a musical piece and you were supposed to sing or to dance while the music is being played.”

So it is with paradigm shifts also? Is the end the desire? Yes, I suppose. Yet it misses much along the way. It sounds trite to say it this way.

Perhaps the more significant point of paradigm shift is learning to be in the shift. In the energy of it. So as to build capacity not only for the current shift, but for the unknown others coming. So as to know it in muscular memory and in energetic memory that can be recalled. So as to enable a deliberate participation in shift, rather than a passive enduring. And perhaps better yet, so as to enable an ability to create shift.

The Bonneville Shoreline

The Bonneville Shoreline
Tenneson Woolf

On this warm summer night
a mile along the trail
800 feet above the city lights in the valley
we choose a place to sit quietly.

It chooses us really.

The wind blows through tall, dry grass
in and around scrub oak
and stars begin to appear.

We are on the rolling feet of the Wasatch Mountains,
once the shoreline of ancient Lake Bonneville.

Seventeen thousand years ago
we would have been sitting on the edge of a lake
more than 300 miles long and 135 miles wide,
home to many fish and amphibians.
Birds in marshes would have been common.
Buffalo, horses, bears, even mammoths may have roamed the shores.

Tonight this shoreline is elevated retreat from the city.
A place to welcome and receive impressions about shifting paradigms.

Seventeen thousand years ago
I imagine the lake seemed everlasting.

But things change.

I’m told that glacial melt raised the water level
just enough to exceed the elevation of the lake’s lowest exit,
spilling over Idaho’s Red Rock Pass into the Snake River drainage,

I’m told the flood may have lasted a year.
Lake Bonneville’s outlet elevation was lowered by 375 feet.

A mile along the trail.
Eight hundred feet above city lights.
Seventeen thousand years later.
Sitting on the Lake Bonneville Shoreline
now crusted and dried into an elevated lookout.

Things change.