Category: Edited

I am grateful for the last ten days. Very unique. Firsts. Things that in the past I would not have let myself do or would not have had the freedom to do. A bit of writing about it now as I approach the Salt Lake City airport via Seattle.

Part one was a road trip with my good friend Roq. I flew to Fairbanks, Alaska, where he met me. We stayed a night with new friends, Julie and Doug Smith. Then on to Little Gold,  Yukon where Roq was stationed for a summer work assignment. Our trip was to road-trip from there down through the Yukon (with stops in Dawson City and an overnight in Whitehorse). Then down through British Columbia (with stops near Muncho Lake and in Quesnel) before reaching Vancouver.

Our trip was to return Roq to Bowen Island. It was to meet again as friends. To paddle, so to speak, into some of our current learning and questions with each other. To laugh. A lot. To be really goofy. And really serious.

There are many reasons that this trip is holding my attention. As I think of hosting conversations, one that becomes clear is that we had no agenda. A direction, yes. But no hard and fixed agenda for our conversation. And not really for the physical journey we took. We got in the car. We drove. We talked. We meandered in and out of topics. The beauty of meandering was spectacular for me. A chance to release concerns about time and to do so in the company of good friend. And of course, in the spaciousness of five days, perhaps even moreso, in our relationship to spaciousness, we covered all that I would have hoped for. Such a treat to release into what Roq and I began to reference as the kairos of time more than the kronos of time.

What happens when we meet as human beings to explore with one another? What happens when we trust that the things we give our attention to will serve as helpful doorways into the whole of what we might want to cover? What if our work was just simply wholing, as Roq referenced it in out travels? What if meandering, and noticing what holds our attention, were spot on for core learning and creation strategy in organizations?

Part two was a back-packing trip near the Esmerelda Peaks in Washington State. This was my first back-packing trip. I was quite stunned to think of how much weight each of us would be carrying. And wondering if I would be able to make it. My camping instincts are reasonably good, but I don’t have the back-packing experience. Fortunately, I had the good help of my partner Teresa, her kids Patrick and Kate, and our Oregon friends Jeff, Jill, and their two kids.

Beyond learning how jello-like my legs could feel, what a fantastic experience for me to again, wander into a different relation with time. No email. No computer. The first time that I’ve gone without email for four days in probably the last ten years.

Again, of all the things that hold my attention from this trip, one is that of feeling healthy in my body. Yes. Four days of hiking. Enough to stretch. Enough to feel tired. Enough to build a bit of muscle and cardio. All good. But perhaps even moreso, feeling myself in relation to a big, beautiful, gorgeous expanse of land, trees, mountains, peaks, creeks. I see all of this as living system with a healthy, undeniable wholeness in it. It reminded me of something my friend Toke once shared — I am nature. To strip down some of the human created systems to feel the identity and rhythm of self as nature — what a treat.

Again, with appreciation for this experience, what becomes possible when we give primary attention in organizations to a wholeness and health? What happens when we welcome a timing that has very natural rhythm to it, one that feels more apparent in nature? What energy becomes released to clear the way for the important work many of us crave?

Many more questions. But enough for now. How important and well it feels in this moment to remember an unplugged quality and the wholeness experience of these two journeys. And how lovely to feel a freedom and clarity and partnership of offering in human systems.

My colleagues at the Salt Lake Center for Engaging Community, particularly John Kesler and Jane Holt, have been hosting some significant state-wide work on civility. It is intended to create a more healthy pattern of dialogue at all levels of community and government. It has the backing of several key state and municipal leaders.

A while back I joined one of the evenings of community engagement. A couple of mayors in the Salt Lake Valley spoke to endorse the process. It was a simple format to learn more deeply with one another by sharing story and response to these two questions: 1) Why does civility matter to you? 2) Where have you seen civility at it’s best?

Lovely small groups convened. I love feeling the power of dialogue as the simple exchange helps make more clarity a more broad and rich intelligence. The group I participated in was hosted by another SLCEC colleague, Steve Prather. As I participated, I noticed and harvested the following five principles and practices to improve civility:

1. Kindness multiplies (kindness attracts kindness).
2. Brilliance is essential (in these times of intractable challenges and irrepressible dreams). Civility supports this.
3. Give primary attention and time to what you care about (and do so by frequently asking what is possible).
4. Ground yourself (incivility is a pattern and can sweep your feet out if you aren’t grounded). Yes, many of us live between worlds.
5. Remain unquestionably committed to purpose. It is the center, the energetic hearth if you will. What my friend, Toke Moeller calls, “the invisible leader.”

I also harvested in this photo some of what I heard from the 6-8 small groups reporting to the whole group.

Rich learning. Much appreciation with and for these local colleagues.

• Celebrating my son’s 14th birthday today. And noticing Isaac is about a foot taller than last year.
• 560 miles driving today, Lindon, UT to Missoula, MO. With kids. Glad for a rest now on our way to Canada.
• http://yfrog.com/kemsbzhj Murphy Lake, just south of Roosevelt, the border crossing to Canada.
• Learning with my 14 year old son — teenaged boys need to be “fueled.” It’s not just “when do we enjoy food?” It is “when do we re-supply?”
• Lovely reconnecting start to a trip, hearing stories from my Mom about my Dad, who died 35 years ago. In wellness and wholeness.
• http://yfrog.com/ki7z4kj Columbia Lake, headwaters for the Columbia River. From Canal Flats beach and our picnic spot.
• RT @PeggyHolman: “Taking responsibility for what u love as an act of service, inquiring appreciatively is a game-changing skill.” Spot on.
• Listening to Stan Rogers while the morning scones are cooking — lovely morning in Fairmont Hot Springs.
• http://yfrog.com/kfplwuwj Making fire with Isaac. On a full moon night. 🙂
• http://yfrog.com/khgznwj What I like at the beach.
• Morning gelato in Invermere with Isaac. Clear blue skies. Shorts. Flip flops. Summer space.
• http://yfrog.com/khz1ypjj Flathead Lake, Montana. On the way south. Skipping stones and stretching our legs.
• Friend Art Park on core story in Art of Hosting: “There is an innate drive within all Life to return to Oneness.”
• Watching 6 year-old Elijah at his first soccer practice. Eight Saturday games coming.
• A slow traffic, eating sunflower seeds, trip on I-5 from Seattle to Vancouver, Washington with Teresa. Gift of time.
• Morning hike near Mt. Hood and the Zigzag River. Refreshment of a full forest and valley. http://yfrog.com/gzo63uuj
• Got to tag along to Taholah with colleagues Sono, Teresa, John to host Quinault Indian Nation in next steps of their strategic plan.
• A hike today from Sol Duc Falls to Deer Lake in Olympic National Park. So much that is beautiful. http://yfrog.com/hspkgvqj
• Ferry ride from Kingston to Edmonds. Striking. Beautiful. http://yfrog.com/gz8yfpwlj
• A view on the “house of cards” that is the financial sector: http://bit.ly/pbnS7E.

With appreciation to my friends Jerry Nagel and Michelle Murton for sharing these two gems on the Art of Hosting Listserve. They are a couple that I want to share with my kids too!

“To listen fully means to pay close attention to what is being said beneath the words. You listen not only to the ‘music,’ but to the essence of the person speaking. You listen not only for what someone knows, but for what he or she is. Ears operate at the speed of sound, which is far slower than the speed of light the eyes take in. Generative listening is the art of developing deeper silences in yourself, so you can slow your mind’s hearing to your ears’ natural speed, and hear beneath the words to their meaning.”

– Peter Senge

If You Really Pay Attention

When I was a little bitty kiddy, about five, my Dad began a process … anytime somebody came and said something to us, my dad would say, “You remember what he said, honey girl?”  I would tell my father what the person said until I got so good at it that I could repeat verbatim even long presentations of what the person had said.

And he did this all the time.

Finally, one day there was this old gentleman, Richard Thompson. I still remember his name, he lived across the street.  And every time my Dad started to mow the lawn, there came Mr. Thompson. And so I would stand out there.

Dad says, “You might come and listen to this man, honey girl.  He’s pretty interesting.”  And so I listened to him, and then my dad would say, “What did you hear him say?” And I would tell him.

Well, eventually I was repeating all the stories he liked to share with my dad verbatim.  I knew them all by heart.

And my Dad says, “You’re getting pretty good at that.  But did you hear his heart?”  And I thought, what?  So I went around for days with my ear to people’s chest trying to hear their hearts.

Finally my Dad created another learning situation for me by asking my mother to read an article from the newspaper.  He says “Well, I guess if you want to understand that article, you have to read between the lines.”

I thought, “Oh, read between the lines. Hear between the words.”

So the next time I listened to Mr. Thompson’s stories, I tried to listen between the words.  My Dad said, “I know you know his story, but did you hear his heart?” And I said, “Yes.  He is very lonely and comes and shares his memories with you again and again because he’s asking you to keep him company in his memories.”

It just came out of me.  In other words, my heart echoed his heart.

And when you can listen at that level, then you can hear not only the people. If you really pay attention, you can hear what the Universe is saying.

—Paula Underwood, clan mother of the Turtle clan, Iroquois nation