6 Questions I Go To Often

Many of us who facilitate and host people in learning are asking questions, right? We give a fair amount of attention to the simplicity, the focus, the tone that will help a group. I think of the question as one of the key tools to help the group be in its own learning. And then it’s evolution. And then it’s experiments and the stuff it does.

Here’s six that I often use. I apply them to individuals, teams, and organizations. When asked to a group, I’m most often pointing to the possibility of shared, emergent understanding. But I start with individual perception.

  1. What has your attention? (In this team, in this project, in this organization, in this community, in this strategy.) The thought behind this is that if it has your attention, we might as well be deliberate in how we give it attention. And, we are meant to be noticers, all of us. I’d write it into every job description I can think of.
  2. What is it like to be you? (Again, in this team, project, etc. — chose your scale to match the setting. And feel some freedom to vary your scale. They all connect anyway.) I love it when people answer from this layer of subjective. “It’s like being a star in a band.” “It’s like being the forgotten stage hand.” Plenty has been written about the importance of teams and team work. Use this question as a way to witness the reality of each other — which is some really good team building.
  3. What is the most simple, clear, and honest statement you can say about what we are doing? This points to purpose. It points to clarity that needs some time to be messy. It points to a marker to show us where we are in often very complex environments. I love asking this one, particularly when it seems everything should be clear, but I know that it isn’t. It’s a call to people’s simplicity. Less big words that sound good. More honest from the gut, unpolished clarity.
  4. What is the bigger story that this work belongs to? More purpose. But this one encourages a glimpse from a more epic perspective. “This team is clarifying and simplifying the billing process — the bigger story is that we are supporting people everywhere to have access to skilled health professionals.” I’m not talking about making stuff up or exaggerating. It’s just that in today’s full-on, fast-paced, complex environments, it’s utterly useful to look up periodically and remember that there is more than just today’s focus. There is a sky.
  5. How is this situation evolving? (This team, this project, this community, this initiative, this understanding, this difficulty, etc.) I love seeding in the awareness, the memory that acts and perceptions of evolution are essential. It’s less “did you fully get it or not.” It’s more, “how can you see this changing and improving?” Our jobs are to participate in evolving the work, even the assembly line parts of the work.
  6. What one or two simple steps help now? Not thirty, though I get it that sometimes that is what we need. Very often, it’s just one or two that help move an individual or group from a paralysis of mass involvement to a small, but powerful momentum in support of well-purposed project or initiative.

Questions are tools. They come from curious dispositions, as much as from a gift with words. They come from people and groups that know that they haven’t got it all figured out. That we are figuring it out as we go.

Glow Kids

Among many things, I’m a Dad. One of my kids is an 11 year-old. He’s in 6th grade. He’s a sweet kid. I bit big for his age, I think of him as a gentle giant.

My 11 year-old, like many of his friends, loves his iPad. For the games. For the access to shows. For FaceTime and texting. I’m ok with all of these in moderation. I’m not ok with these as addictions and distractions away from being able to engage, with real curiosity, the people in front of you.

A friend shared this NY Post article with me, “It’s ‘digital heroin’: How screens turn kinds into psychotic junkies.” OK, “psychotic junkie” is stronger than I prefer, by a lot. And, aside from the “catatonic state” that the author references in her six year-old, there’s a lot of provocative, pattern-naming bits in here that I relate to.

  • digital heroin
  • focused on his game and losing interest in baseball and reading
  • tech designers insisting on low-tech schools for their kids
  • wandering attention spans
  • affect on the brain’s frontal cortex
  • needed detox

Yikes, right. It’s not just a neat device or collection of devices anymore, is it. My personal pet peeve is the device turned on between the time of waking in the morning and coming down for breakfast. Or the, “I’m bored,” comment with any lapse in stimulation. It’s why I insist on reading together, first thing upon waking.

Addictive tendencies aren’t new. This article references 1 in 10 predisposed to addiction. Not being able to say no.

Here’s the paragraph I really connect with. “Developmental psychologists understand that children’s healthy development involves social interaction, creative imaginative play and engagement with the real, natural world. Unfortunately, the immersive and addictive world of screens dampens and stunts those developmental processes.”

I get it — gaming can be creative. It’s highly creative. That’s not what I take issue with, nor worry about with my son. It’s when his gaming and umbilical connection with devices crosses over to “can’t stop, irritable” that I do take issue. I want my son to glow in many ways, but not just from the screen in front of him.

Nature Never Hurries

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“Nature never hurries, yet everything is accomplished.” — Lao Tzu, Chineses Philosopher, 6th Century BC

Thank you Glen Lauder for sending beautiful nature photos recently with this Lao Tzu caption. The photo above is one that I took from Stewart Falls, Utah in 2009. I spent the better part of a day there, alone. Some of it was taking pictures of what amazingly grows in rocks. I think of it as an irrepressible spirit of life.

Some things can’t help but grow. Can’t not blossom. It is this way with human beings also. And with human beings in groups. I’ve seen it many times. And irrepressible life generated by the most simple interactions, that grows from even very hard places.

 

A Center

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The center of a meeting space is a physical space. Yes. A point to which people have equal access. Or perhaps, unimpeded access. Or, shared access. It could be the center of a circle of chairs, a point on the floor with a book. Or flowers. Or cloths and bowls like in this above photo for a group of 120. It could also be the center of a table, marked by even a pen. A center is different than a front of the room. Yes, a front of the room is called for at times. Good. As always, don’t forget that there are choices. Physically, what I tell people that are just starting to learn participative leadership, is to get used to moving chairs. So that there is a center.

The center of a meeting space is also an energetic space. Yes. An area that can act as holding place for people’s intentions, questions, worries, imaginations, aspirations. It’s an area to place a thought, daring to let it rest with thoughts that others are also contributing. It’s an area to let energetically simmer what is arising from people interacting. I often think of the center as a giant pot for cooking soup. The ingredients for that soup are all that people add to the figurative middle of important work and discovery that we human beings need to cook together.

I love the photos scattered around this center. They were used as physical images in an exercise to invite people to come to the middle, in silence, and to select an image that represents some of how they feel about the business that we would be up to together on this day.

A call to come to the center of the work. A call to go to the center in themselves. They both matter. Physically. Energetically. Repeatedly.