Human to Human

Throughout most of my life, I’ve been a person quite oriented to causes — like many, I’ve wanted to make a difference. For me, that difference-making has often been in support of big things but through small steps. For example, I remember as a teen in the late 70s that I took US President Jimmy Carter seriously when he called for citizens to turn down their thermostats because of the energy crisis. I drove my Mom nuts with that one — we lived in Canada, not Georgia!

I’m on the board for Calling the Circle, a non-profit that is in full support of The Circle Way. It is one of the causes that means much to me.

The Circle Way is simultaneously four things, including a global movement of practitioners that are calling people back to better listening and better operating systems for who they are and what they can offer in the world. I’m proud to be a part of that. As a board member for the last three years, but also as a practitioner for the last 15+ years.

One of the things that is remarkable about The Circle Way is that it is now in transition from being led by founders Christina Baldwin and Ann Linnea to being led by a network of practitioners. This transition has actually been happening over the last three years, very thoughtfully I might add. And, I’m aware that changes like this take multiple years and making it through both tenuous and terrific times. We have some important years coming.

As you might imagine, there is an important release that is happening, a letting go. There is an important picking up, by a next generation of Circle carriers. It takes really clean intentions for that to happen.

The shift from founder-lead to network-lead is a grand experiment. It takes some resources to support some minimal structure. A part-time community weaver position, a website with helpful materials, a few stewards meeting periodically to pay attention to the integrity of it, and periodic communications to further invitation.

Please join me in contributing. Yes, of course, at one level it is about simple support. Thank you. And, please join me in imagining a future in which astounding listening is the norm — to each other, to team, to self, and to the subtle. Please join me in supporting that, over the years. It’s a movement that, if I let myself, I can feel in my gut and in quiet whispers that proclaim, this could really make a difference.

Peace on earth, yes. Circle helps with that.

Thank you friends.

 

 

In a conversation I had last week with a good colleague, he shared, “I’m an artist. I just live that artistry out through the arenas that are my job, my family, and my community.”

I immediately related to the comment. I also feel that I’m an artist living out that artistry through the arenas of family, my hosting work, my coaching, my writing, my hobbies, and more. There was something freeing in it. Something attractive in it. Something independent in it. Something centered in it. Less of being driven by seemingly unending external circumstances. Less leaf being blown by the wind. More of a core that emanates from within.

That part of our conversation lead to a shared observation in our respective work with groups and teams. We both work with leadership, dialogue, and change. When that work is going well — when people gush with gratitude and the desire to do more of it — it is usually because people have just had the experience of being able to be themselves with one another. Even for a moment.

It is a beautiful “aha” to watch — “Wait a minute; I can be me here!”

I know that the fear of such freedom in many working contexts is distraction and lack of focus. Surely, if we create conditions where people can be themselves it will lead to less productivity, right?

I want so suggest that this distraction may be true some of the time — conversations do on occasion run away with themselves — but it is not true all of the time. Further, that losing that momentary feeling of “ok to be me” is like cutting off the fundamental artistry that is most needed in most professional settings. It cuts, chokes the core that is then expressed through the arena of a project, a role, a team commitment.

Yes, this last statement is rather utilitarian. Fair enough. I’ll all for getting things done in a good way together. But, maybe it is enough on some occasions to do it simply because it creates energy and life. Creating energy and life is, after all, an artistry, no?

 

 

 

 

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So, I grew up in Canada. In Edmonton, Alberta (though the picture above was from Christmas Day in Utah). It is in Canada that my primary family system of parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins lived. I didn’t know so much about stereotypes of Canadians then. The ones about being earthy, kind, good-hearted, like when you need to face the cold together. When you need to shovel snow together. When you pull over to help push a car that is stuck in the snow. These are all things that we just did. It was a way of being. Generally.

At a deeper level, there was an inherent turning to one another. To be helpful. To tend to each other. To interrupt what perhaps was, or perhaps has become, an obsession with tight schedules, mechanistic systems that often have us apologizing for anything that is short of super-human. Most modern systems with their impressive accountabilities don’t account for what happens when nature takes over.

I love the way that William Young (Canadian-born by the way) expresses this in his novel, The Shack, written in 2007. It’s a small bit of text, not particularly germane to the overarching theme of the book. However, as soon as I read it, I recognized some of the thinking that has me appreciating snow storms and those days growing up in Canada.

“There is something joyful about storms that interrupt routine. Snow or freezing rain suddenly releases you from expectations, performance demands, and the tyranny of appointments and schedules. And unlike illness, it is largely a corporate rather than individual experience. One can almost hear a unified sigh rise from the nearby city and surrounding countryside where Nature has intervened to give respite to the weary humans slogging it out within her purview. All those affected this way are united by a mutual excuse, and the heart is suddenly and unexpectedly a little giddy. There will be no apologies needed for not showing up to some commitment or other. Everyone understands and shares in this singular justification, and the sudden alleviation of the pressure to produce makes the heart merry.”

 

Thanks Jerry Nagel for this. I love him for his humor and for his insight.

It all depends on the story you know, right?

Happy Holidays to all.