Beauty Matters

Magnolia

It’s Spring in Utah. The time of Spring when Magnolia Trees (my friend calls them tulip trees) are in full bloom. This is one on the path where I most frequently walk my dog, Shadow. I couldn’t help but stop to take in this full-flowering tree, against a bright blue sky.

Beauty matters. I’m not talking about the critique of beauty. I am talking about the experience of beauty. The moment of feeling timeless. The moment of senses being alive and fully present to just that moment. The moment of temporary communion, soft enough to be changed.

Rest Matters

It seems that it should be so simple. Of course rest matters. Time off compliments time on. Replenishment is a part of any living system’s need. As Judy Sorum Brown puts it in her poem, Fire, “What makes a fire burn is space between the logs.”

I think I’m still learning about this. It’s not the cognitive concept that is difficult. For me, it is the emotional freedom to give myself permission that has been more difficult. It’s funny sometimes. Silly too. Frustrating periodically. In a removed way, like I’m stepping outside of myself to watch myself and noticing how obvious it seems and how many self-made obstacles populate my path.

I grew up in one of those families in which hard work was valued. Definitely doing work before play. Everybody had jobs and chores. Play was the reward for work well done. Or rest too. I’m grateful for that family. Values learned there have formed many of the best parts of me.

I suppose some of that commitment to hard work is an insecurity. Got to keep going, for fear of not being valued if not working hard. What a “gotcha” that is, isn’t it.

Well, perhaps it is the small steps that help to make the shift. Taking a 15 minute walk, just because (not as utilitarian step toward greater productivity). Breathing quietly for 20 minutes. Turning off the noise of radio or TV. Resting in the sun. Releasing the incessant drive for accomplishment that will likely be there for another day.

I’m curious to ask some of the teams I’m working with, “In what way to you give yourselves permission to rest?” I’d love to hear what is the subtle (organizational cultures that accept spaciousness as a core value), and what is the more blatant (space between and in meetings for example; or gaps between major projects).

Rest matters. Still learning. And enjoying a breath, just because.

 

 

H2H Turns One

It was just over a year ago that I renamed this blog and began calling it Human to Human. Quite honestly, I can’t remember what I called it before. It was something more that just “Blog.”

It was just over a year ago that I adopted a more deliberate tone of trying to be better humans together. I’ve sometimes called it “rehumaning.” Some people have loved that focus. Some have felt discord.

This is a foreground and background issue for me. In my profession (I did graduate from a business school), most see the foreground as the job and the human stuff as the background. “It’s nice to get to it, but let’s get back to the real work.”

Our jobs are important, I know. If we are lucky. A contribution to society or to our communities. A means to an end, a way to pay the bills. An evolution of a profession, again, if we are lucky.

For me, all of the jobs that we are in have felt like arenas in which we play out, and evolve, who we are as human beings. It’s not as separate as that sounds — you are either working or being human — of course not.

What interests me, and I believe is essentially strategic, is moving the human part to the foreground. Or, perhaps more honestly, knowing that it is sometimes in the foreground. Let’s go one step further, that the foreground and background oscillate in such a natural way that they become equally recognized as a whole.

I’m so much more interested and fascinated by how we are relearning, or unlearning, so that we can be human together. I describe it this way, in this H2H blog:

Human to Human is a daily blog, Monday through Thursday, on which I post current learnings (taking sporadic weeks off to write longer pieces or to rest). Posts are 300-500 words, often with photos, intended to be read in five minutes and inspire reflection, individually and communally, on varied aspects of participative leadership practices, insights, and human to human depth.

I’m in for another year. And looking forward to it! For those who read regularly or peruse periodically, thank you. And thanks for taking the journey together.

 

Companioning

P1040154

Recently I spent a day with a very good friend. Four years ago we were colleagues. The last 18 months have been more defined by friendship. We ask each other questions. We laugh and cry at the answers that we share with each other. We tell each other stories. We count on each other to reflect back the stories that we can’t fully see. We walk. We wander, figuratively and literally. We companion each other in a way that makes a day like we recently shared seem more like a satisfyingly full week. When we hugged it out to say goodbye, we thanked each other for this companioning.

Also recently, I met with a group of friends for a board meeting of a non-profit that we are all serving on together. Colleagues again, who are or are becoming friends. Our meeting tone was set quite deliberately in the beginning — that though we have work to do and a few decisions to make, at least half of what we were doing together was building an energy. Re-touching the spirit and potential of our work together. By the end of that call, it was clear to me that we were companioning each other.

Companions are essential, aren’t they. Or, just lovely. There are some people that we just need, even if only for a season or two. One layer of our companioning is to get stuff done. Cleaning the house. Taking out the trash. Chopping the wood. Carrying the water. And then there is the layer of companioning that is being with each other to journey into and sometimes through unknowns. The future of the organization. The state of the world. The loss of a loved one. What it means to be working together. What it means to be human.

I know that there are many alternative phrases and efforts that could be spoken here. Team-building comes to mind. And that is good. It just feels a bit more utilitarian than companioning. It’s the difference that one of my grad school professors used to state in being a tourist rather than a traveller. Tourists sample the buffet of experiences for ten days. Travelers learn where to get the food and then they do the cooking themselves.

Another good friend has often declared that “friendship is my business model.” I would say companioning too. It makes for rather satisfying days, doesn’t it.