Revolution of Joy

Photo Credit — Kufunda Learning Village

I went to Zimbabwe in the early 2000s. Through Johannesburg and up to Harare. I remember feeling excited and a bit scared. It was my first time to Africa. I travelled with a group through The Berkana Institute and in support of our global leadership initiative, From the Four Directions. We were invited in particular to celebrate a friend and colleague, Maaianne Knuth’s 30th birthday, a beautiful human being, half Danish and half Zimbabwean. We were invited to witness what she was attempting to dream, establish, and grow in Zimbabwe, a learning village called Kufunda. Kufunda was about courage and wholeness. It was about daring to walk a path of awakening individually and as a local community. It was about reclaiming an inherent resourcefulness amidst towering inflation and access only to each other.

Maaianne’s birthday, which she referenced as a “celebration of life” was also about courage, wholeness and kind daring. It was not just for her but for all of us. There was life in being together, the group of about 40 of us over seven days. There was thoughtful and deliberate conversation and connection together. There was singing and dancing and food late into the night at her Grandmother’s remote village, where we all stayed in tents. There was wonder in visiting Victoria Falls and Hwange National Park. There was “aha” in realizing how easy it was for wild baboons and monkeys to get in to a few back packs that were left behind on the bus.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen Maaianne. I’ve stayed in touch with the evolution of Kufunda, the learning village that was just beginning when I was there. I’ve wondered these last weeks in particular about how Maaianne is and how she is seeing the evolution of Zimbabwe now that Mugabe has stepped aside. This comes with awareness that there were years, including when I went in the early 2000s when political violence was enough to cancel trips, or at minimum proceed with much much caution. I’m happy to read Maaianne’s words this morning, “A Joy Revolution.”

“What was most remarkable was the absence of hatred and anger. The overwhelming feeling on the streets was joy. I don’t know that I have ever experienced such a collective well-spring of joy. Joy and love and unity that transcended decades of fear, division and hatred.”

There is much that is challenging in the world. Much that is drowning many of us in full despair. However, there is much that is joyful in the world also. Maaianne’s reflections and her commitment to growing life through life remind me of that.

Read her full reflection about Zimbabwe’s joy revolution here.

Taking Part

“Sun, moon, mountains, and rivers are the writing of being, the literature of what-is. Long before our species was born, the books had been written. The library was here before we were. We live in it. We can add to it, or we can try; we can also subtract from it. We can chop it down, incinerate it, strip mine it, poison it, bury it under our trash. But we didn’t create it, and if we destroy it, we cannot replace it. Literature, culture, pattern aren’t man made, the culture of the Tao is not man-made, and the culture of “humans” is not man-made; it is just the human part of the culture of the whole…The question is only: are you going to take part, and if so, how?” ~Robert Bringhurst, Canadian Poet, Author, Activist

I appreciate a friend for sharing this Bringhurst passage with me. I love the invitation to look to a different scale, a geographic scale that repositions the temporal gaze.

I also love the fundamental question — Are you going to take part, and if so, how?

“Taking part” is a pretty good header for most of the work that I’m engaged in. I help to create containers for people to be able to take part together. It’s more than the razzmatazz of good facilitation, though that is interesting, isn’t it. For me, it’s more about re-storying how we even conceive of ourselves as connected and belonging together. Perhaps this has been relegated to the domain of poets and philosophers for many a years. I love it now that contemporary life — the workplace, government, education, systems — are learning to lean in to the “taking part” story (in a “power with” narrative rather than a “power over”).

I don’t like to overstate it — it’s easy to get unintendedly cheesy — but a key part of the work these days is about how to learn to go together. Not as obligation. Not as indulgence. Not as what you tolerate before getting to the real work. Going together, taking part together — this is the story that I would suggest contemporary society is daring to reclaim. Beyond obligation, indulgence, or tolerating is awakening to the added life field that is only activated when we are together. Yes, the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. That’s the cute way of saying it. And, reclaiming a reliance on wholeness, daring to lean and feel our way into that — well, that is the game these days.

I’m excited about a few projects that are attempting to change the “taking part” story. One is with my friends at the Rocky Mountain Conference of the United Church of Christ. Together, we’ve created a 9 month leadership initiative, IGNITE, that is about helping ordained clergy and lay leaders deepen their own being, amplify relationships and connection, and be church in a different way for times like these. We’ve created this program to help people reanimate in the spirit that is only found together — as we make stories and questions the central strategies for our learning together. We are two months into it, having met face to face, and now supporting monthly and weekly practices.

Another project is with a group of educators at University of North Texas in Denton. I love the daring invitation from their VP of Academic Affairs that has created two three day trainings to learn participative leadership together. It’s deans. It’s department chairs. It’s support staff. It’s senior leadership. It’s a few wild cards. They want to interrupt the silo behavior that has become part of so many large and complex organizations. They want to reclaim the way that education occurs at large universities. They want to reclaim how “taking part” can improve. It takes courage, guts, and a willingness to explore the unknown, doesn’t it.

I’m glad to be a part of such good work. I’m glad to be a voice that encourages the simple narrative of taking part, and with reminder from a few other good people that we can remember with the generosity of sun, moon, mountains, rivers.

Thanks Giving

In honor of US Thanksgiving.

Among other things, I am thankful for:

  • Outstanding and purposeful work in the world in which my new colleagues become my new friends, and in so doing, we become even better colleagues and friends invoking wild imagination and a bit of mischief.
  • Family past and present that continue to laugh, cry, and learn together through the day to day and the more stretching changes that are part of life.
  • Shadow, my family’s 14 year-old Lab / Retriever mix that now in his declining days, still wags his tail with in excitement to meet each other.
  • Refining and initiation that is the long arc of life and not necessarily easy, and the friends that can see beyond the tactical and psychological into existential allies.
  • The blessing of life, time in this body, in these communities, and on this planet, in this time of radical change.

Thanks Giving.

 

For Those Hurting and The Not So Perfect

It’s a daring thing to acknowledge hurt, which of course, turns out to not be so isolated. If you are human, and awake even just a bit, you likely have known some hurt.

What’s also true in that is that it is perhaps daring and disciplined to acknowledge joy, which of course, turns out to not be so isolated either. If you are human, and awake even just a bit, chances are you have known some joy.

It’s an interesting time of year in the United States. Thanksgiving proper is tomorrow. Turkey dinners will abound. Many family gatherings. Black Friday will follow, a shopping and commercial extravaganza that is quickly taking on the tone of “the week of black Friday.” All of this kicks off a holiday season for many that leads up to Christmas and December celebrations and rituals. The messaging in American television at this time of year tells many tales of perfection. Perfect families. Wealth. Opportunity.

It’s a great story for many people. Except for those who it is not. I celebrate the kindness and invitation in the stories. I’m glad to have grown up in a family system that brought out this kind of connection in me. And, beyond charades of perfection pressure, there is also need to acknowledge the not so perfect. In that there is kindness and celebration also.

A friend encouraged my to share more of my poems recently. The one below comes from a time during the year when I felt I needed to be daring enough, and human enough, to acknowledge some hurt and pain. I offer it here, for the “not so perfect” that is also present at this time of year. And for the beauty that the “less pretty” might surface.

 

Be In Nothingness

What could I do today
that would take away pain,
more than just numbing it
and temporarily dulling it?

It’s not vodka or beer.
I’ve tried those
enough to buzz,
drawing surrogate spirit from bottle.

It’s not football on TV.
I’ve tried that too,
but that mostly shows
yards I have not gained.

Maybe I should be noble
and say that taking away
others’ pain will surely
take away my pain.

It’s true,
but this one is dodgy.
Taking care of others
gets me out of facing myself.

Maybe I should take a slow walk,
with my dog,
rambling among autumn trees
and fallen leaves.

Maybe I should light a candle
and stare into it,
searching for meaning
that surely comes from flame.

I don’t know.
And part of me doesn’t want to know.
What I could do today
is just be willing to be in nothingness.

Maybe what I most need
is patience and kindness with myself.
I’m hurting.
Hurting needs healing, and rest.