There is something about being clear, with self and with others, what a human (sometimes a cat) can and can’t do.
Of this, I love being a student. There is something about offerings that come from love of circumstance and people — from that clarity that makes for a really good day.
May you have the grace and wisdom To act kindly, learning To distinguish between what is Personal and what is not.
May you be hospitable to criticism.
May you never put yourself at the center of things.
May you act not from arrogance but out of service.
May you work on yourself, Building up and refining the ways of your mind.
May those who work for you know You see and respect them.
May you learn to cultivate the art of presence In order to engage with those who meet you.
When someone fails or disappoints you, May the graciousness with which you engage Be their stairway to renewal and refinement.
May you treasure the fits of the mind Through reading and creative thinking So that you continue as a servant of the frontier Where the new will draw ts enrichment from the old, And you never become a functionary.
May you know the wisdom of deep listening, The healing of wholesome words, The encouragement of the appreciative gaze, The decorum of old dignity, The springtimes edge of the bleak question.
May you have a mind that loves frontiers So that you can evoke the bright fields That lie beyond the view of the regular eye.
May you have good friends To mirror your blind spots.
May leadership be for you A true adventure of growth.
Dana and I walked last night. Close to sunset. In the warm, dry evening of an Utah summer. There are a few ponds where we walk. I loved seeing this mamma duck with three ducklings in setting sun.
Joy.
Earlier in the day, I’d been reflecting on joy. On the importance of noticing joy — micro doses. Because they exist with the other micro and macros doses of sorrow and struggle. It’s grown-assed humaning to not forget that.
I’ve been learning — joy is an intention, a good one. Joy is an objective, a potent one. Joy is a deliverable, a fruitful one.
I asked it reflectively with a team yesterday — “As you think back on our weekend hosting together, what is one thing that brought you joy?”
I just like the picture. Yes. And I just like the enlivening that is joy.
Working this at a few layers. Glad for it. And for learning with others.
Sometimes the shape is Circle. In a hotel ballroom. It’s hearth. to hold us. This particular hearth grew to include hard copy pictures of people that “inspire us to offer our best.”
Sometimes the shape is small tables. For cafe and other small group work. As I shared with the group, it’s a large group conversation held at small tables.
When I host and co-host groups like this, I so often relearn the core narrative and purpose. I relearn it because I witness it. I see it unfold in front of me.
The basics go something like this:
People want to learn.
People want to contribute.
So…,
Create a pile of connection.
What grows naturally out of that is a pile of courage.