Human to Human

A bit of bonus time this morning. I was scheduled for nose surgery (deviated septum repair). Thought it would be in the morning. Turns out it will be in the afternoon. So, bonus time this morning. I sit next to this candle and this lily in our bedroom. Reflecting. Writing. Perusing a few emails.

In 2022 I published Most Mornings. It’s a collection of 37 poems. Plus some context for sense-making the world around us and the world within us. In the Introduction for Most Mornings, I wrote a few words that guide. Offered here for inspiration. And some clarity by a candle.

From Most Mornings

For many of us these days, so sincere in our attempts to live awake, there is much volume and scale that seeks our attention. We read articles. We skim news headlines. We listen to podcasts. We sort varied social media teasers that algorithm us to interest. It’s a lot. 

Yet despite such volume and scale, I believe that most of us seek to remember one or two things that are important, and then go about living our lives of personal and communal commitment. Most mornings, most of us seek what is grounding, and then go out to do our jobs.

I believe that most of us want to contribute good, whether to the circumstances near us, or to the circumstances further away that we read about. Most of us want to keep appreciating the value of similarities and differences. Many of us want healthy and respectful communities, be they in revolution or small but significant steadiness of change.

This collection of poems comes from some of my sense-making that so often happens in the morning, nurtured by overnight sleep. These poems sample practices. They sample learnings. They sample insights and discoveries. They sample dilemmas and concerns. They range from simple and clear appreciations to more complex and murky wonderings about how to be in the world of these times.

I offer these verses to invite essences to lead, as poetry often does, and to invite discovery of what can only live between the lines. I offer these poems to bring reflection and waking, to bring phrases and images that might help you, and us, find paths.

Buy the book as inspired. With my thanks. On Amazon. Or here on my site where you can select a few Most Mornings themed note cards.

What we practice, we become. There is a simplicity in this, isn’t there. It’s pithy at one level. It’s also deep-diving at another.

These three above — kindness, consciousness, flow — these are three that I rely on. Sometimes when I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m affirming such things. Sometimes, when I don’t know what I’m doing. When I’m looking for ground and a reset.

These three above. They are values. They are intentions. They are goals. They are practices.

I know these three values most through Toke. I can hear his voice at many events, claiming a simplicity and claiming a depth. Claiming human ways. Within self. With others. With the greater pattern that is Life.

I wake up this morning feeling a bit disturbed. A bit jumpy. Nothing in particular. But, also, I think, wanting and needing to feel such simplicity and such depth. To feel such practice. To feel the heart of the center.

I’m glad to know these in my heart. I’m glad to know others who also know it in their hearts. And, who practice. And, who invite others to practice. Or who just live in such beautiful ways.

Perhaps underneath so much of the complexity of humanness lays such simple things. I find that inspiring.

And with ample room to meet ourselves and each other in, well, becoming ways — kind ways, conscious ways, and flowing with Life ways.

Earlier this week I met via Zoom with a prospective upcoming client. Which is to say, we said “hello” to each other, to get a sense of presence together. And a vibe. And a sense of wonder. “Hello” is such an important part of the work. It’s a version of starting with generosity — in time, in spirit, in story, in dream. And, it sets pattern for the work we might do together over the coming months. So, fun. And, important.

In such circumstances, I’m usually looking for a question or two to help thicken our hello. Which is to say, give us invitation to get to the thicker stuff. I look for the questions, but truth is, they look for me, little birds that show up on the window sill. Sometimes I use the same questions for a couple of months. But they change. Grow. Evolve. And “fit” differently for different groups. Again, fun.

This week, as is often the case for me, it start’s somewhere and opens up to some connecting layers. I’m happy with Question 1. But Questions 2 and 3 bring a bit more.

1. What is the simple story here?
   I love inviting simplicity. I’m asking them, and participating with them, to basically give some attention to what’s at the heart of it. Let’s start our work at the heart of it.
2. What is the simple intent here?
   Again, it’s a gift to get to the core. Intent has heart. But it also has some hands. It invites people to context their doing from the heart of it, the simple story.
3. What is the outrageous intent here?
   Simple and outrageous are not opposites here. They actually dwell together. I love inviting the courage to have voice, the next layer of what are we really doing, that might only be spoken as a whisper. It’s invitation to take the gloves off and get in.

Hello’s matter. So do good questions. So does a bit of process (circle-based) to bring those voices and hearts together.

Quite life-giving. Which is to say, fun too.

I remember, almost, the first time I participated in a conversation framed by the question, “What time is it in the world?” I think it was a World Cafe format. I think Juanita Brown and David Isaacs were lightly steering. This was the 90s. I remember being stirred by how people were being thoughtful. Juanita and David were inviting perspective, which, was the work then, and so often is today.

This Shades of Life video — thx Jerry, Kathy, Janet — asks this question. It sets up some of that context. Fun. And, led by Kathy and Jerry, touches the notion of “jump time,” a kind of punctuated equilibrium. It brings people to added layers of bigger picture and witness, which I love, and, which I feel is so often the work.

A couple of weeks ago I co-hosted a group of clergy which included some riffs on the question:

• What time is it in the world?
• What time is it in religious life?
• What time is it in religious leadership?

Cool, thoughtful responses. I love the way that groups actually have hunger to interact around such questions. I used to see people more often resist these kind of questions. It was resistance that saw some fluff and said, “let’s get to the real work.” These days, oh gosh, so many more people recognize these questions are the real work. Or are the real contexting that helps us get to the real work.

Fun.

In the above video, we all offer some reflection on the question, What time is it? And we reference and play with the 2-Loops model for change that I learned with Meg Wheatley and Deborah Frieze in those early Berkana days. Some of us took that question and that model to a lot of places (Chris, Caitlin, Teresa, Tim, Tuesday, Kathy, Jerry).

In the video I respond with a few one-liners.

• it’s a time of change
• it’s a time of rapid change
• it’s a time of letting go
• it’s a time of high hopes
• it’s a time of traumatic stress (both post and continual)
• it’s a time of hints and hunches (for what helps, centers, moves)

And, and.

I love thoughtful questions. I love questions and contexts that engage the heart, mind, belly. And I love learning with my friends, coming alive, carrying to other place.

What time is it? It’s a time for just such wonder, punctuated here and there with particular actions, but also seasoned well with some long-arc wonder.

Let’s remember.