General Learning • Tenneson Woolf

August 14, 2017

Failure

Last week I wrote that many of us have an involved relationship with expertise. The same feels true of failure.

I was raised in an era when failure was to be avoided or hidden. Failure of not getting it right (“get it right or go home;” “get it right the first time or don’t do it at all”). When speed and efficiency were mechanically imprinted to the collective psyche, you get such belief systems. Failure often came with punishment, reprimands. Or reassignments. Or getting fired. There’s just loads of fear in all of that. And no, I was not raised in a military family. My family was fortunately, kind, patient, and able to laugh at such orientations — at least at home.

These days, there is a much different orientation to the flavors associated with failure. How wonderful that experimenting and prototyping are norms. “Failing fast and often” is a value to support continuous learning. Many people and organizations have developed cultures that support fantastic trial and error, in which there will of course be failures. Stuff that doesn’t work. Stuff that doesn’t work like we thought it would. But, failure has been reworked significantly to welcome learning — in the best of environments.

I’ve known some people (including myself) for whom the psychology of failure is still living in an old era, trying to catch up to the accepted strategies of the day — innovation and creativity as life blood of organizational and human evolution. In the depth of that lag, I’ve heard the phrase, “failure as a human being.” It’s one of those expressions that we all know is absurd, but none the less, the feeling of it can be quite prevalent.

This morning while sitting briefly in my bedroom, I watched my dog, my now pushing 14 lab / retriever mix staring out the window. We humans with our ability to abstract and project, come up with statements about failure. I was imagining how it would sound if dogs were to state to each other, “you are a failure as a dog.” Outside of a Disney movie script, I doubt it. Absurd, right. A dog is a dog. With foibles. With satisfying moments of fetch. With challenging moments of barfing or pooping on the carpet. A dog is a dog. “Failure as a dog” is like telling a cucumber it has failed as a cucumber. I laughed when I thought this.

I don’t know if dogs need encouragement to not think that way. I’m going to let myself be simple and say no for the moment. But humans, we do think this way at times. We do need encouragement to free ourselves from some absurdities. Though there are many kinds of humans, the extremity of the statement, “failure as a human” is just too harsh. We have our satisfying moments of preparing a good meal. We have our challenging moments of not taking out the trash that stinks up the place. But it’s all part of the package that is being human.

Here’s to kindness with ourselves and with each other, reorienting ourselves in the small and big scales of learning, failing, experimenting, daring to try some difference, and daring to welcome all of what shows up.

August 10, 2017

Adult Tantrums

I don’t remember throwing that many tantrums as a kid, but the biggest was when I was about three. I was in a clothing store with my mom. I was being a brat. I don’t remember over what. I remember being inconsolable and rigid and stubborn and loud. I think I was standing on the edge of a round clothing rack, arms folded tightly in defiance, pouty face, and maybe even stomping my feet a bit. I was a three foot tall demon in that moment.

I remember rejecting everything my mom did as she tried to console me. I would have none of it! I remember her being kind and a bit embarrassed. Trying really hart at likely near her wit’s end. I was making a scene. I imagine that other people were looking on. Maybe even some judging my mom. I remember not being able to stop myself. I was just done and loosing it in a way that sometimes happens at that age. It’s not my most proud memory of my childhood.

Tantrums are for kids, right. It’s what gives rise to the phrase, “terrible twos.” Hmm. Wait, perhaps let’s not be so fast with that.

I’ve been thinking about tantrum behavior I’m seeing in fully aged adults. All of us? I don’t think so. Some of us. Definitely. They don’t have to look like stomping feet and folded arms half way lost in a clothing rack. Adult tantrums are tempered by skills acquired through the years of social adjustment and base line maturation. And they definitely aren’t called tantrums. Because, well, that is only for kids.

Tantrums in adult life tend to come with excess volume, incessant urgency, and insisted frequency. None of these are inherently wrong in and of themselves. We all find ourselves in life moments that call for volume, for crisp clarity, and sustained repetition. Of course. There are times, particularly of crisis, when we simply act from essential instinctive judgement. When the violent storm is coming in quickly, it’s go time on securing the lawn furniture.

What turns reaction into adult tantrum is when any of these in adult life are paired with unchecked assertions, ultimatums, and judgements. The ability to notice these are capacities that theoretically we acquire with age and experience. To notice when our assertions are about us rather than about a group or task. To notice when our projections are convenient self ego soothers rather than truisms of the people upon which we heap said projections. I still love the phrase that Christina Baldwin spoke many years ago — “judgement and curiosity can’t exist in the same place.” I think that is mostly true. Unchecked judgements, from simplified “no dah” perspectives of the world that deny inherent complexity — these are just convenient to the individual and not helpful to the groups of people trying to navigate complex and must-faceted environments.

Adult tantrums look like a person saying it louder, and if not heard, saying it louder again. They are about getting bossy, and more and more authoratative and insistent. They sound like imposing a false urgency when not getting the action you want. The taste like what happens when judgement and character assertions leak or pour out of us — “you are lazy; he doesn’t care about his job; she doesn’t care about this family.”

I’m working with a group where “spiritual maturity” is a key value and intent. It’s a bit murky to talk about, but is clear in value. And to speak it with appropriate kindness, I think we are all trying to mature. These times, these days, these environments of utter complexity require a quality of underlaying maturity to find our way through. I’m not sure of what all of that means, but patience, ability to see the big picture, and a keen ability to dislocate from certainty are a few things that quickly come to mind.

Perhaps this maturing is the work for all of us. It’s a myth that maturing only happens in the developmental years. It’s a myth that you’re cooked and fully able when society deems you an adult at 18 or 21. Maturing carries on. Though young adult life. Into midlife. If we are lucky, it might last enough to turn us into elders (not just “olders”) that help others on the path. Wisdom is something that is practiced. Not just acquired in a chronological age certificate.

Here’s to the inquiry to check our own tantrum tendencies. And to going together to mature ourselves for some rather crazy and complex times like these.

August 9, 2017

Leadership

I am learning a lot through a team that I’m working with that is planning a series of leadership retreats.

Together, as a core team, we have been challenged to reach below the surface, and below what is below that, to clarify what we even mean by leadership. My goto is a definition from my Berkana Institute days, “a leader is anyone who wants to help.” It’s really important work to do this reaching. And it’s got some tricky edges to it.

Together, as so often is the case with teams, we have been challenged to lean in to our differences and open to a coherence and value in them. That work requires exquisite attention to our relationships, which I’m glad that we have.

Some of what I am learning through this group is about leadership as “refreshing vision, supporting alignment, and championing execution.” That is good stuff. And it’s a package. It sparks a lot in me about what that has to do with a participative approach. Execution has often been the privileged aspect of this trio.

Hmm….

I would suggest that within such leadership practice, this enticing trio, there are masculine expressions and feminine expressions. The masculine has typically meant “being in front of” and has shadow of “going without people, come hell or high water.” The feminine has typically meant “going together in collaboration and listening” and has shadow of “lost in perpetual gooeyness.”

I’m drawn to “leadership as practice” though sometimes it shows up as “position.” And am extremely glad to be around smart people who are able and willing to explore the edges together.

August 8, 2017

Days of The Circle Way

I have many gatherings in the next six weeks that are deliberately focused on The Circle Way. That makes me quite happy — The Circle Way is such a grounding and core methodology that underlays a way of being. There is The Circle Way Practicum August 23-28 on Whidbey Island, teaching with Amanda Fenton — Amanda and I have picked up a twenty year tradition of teaching in Christina Baldwin and Ann Linnea’s home teaching space. There is a workshop and a practicum in September in Australia, again with Amanda. This is new territory for both of us, and delightfully partnered with Penny Hamilton from Brisbane. There is a new weekend leadership retreat in mid September in Minnesota with Quanita Roberson and Barbara McAfee, who are both people that I love to laugh with.

I’ve been reviewing this morning some of my notes from the practicum workbook. It gets me quite excited. I love the feeling of added nuance that arrives when it feels like I’m on the on ramp to those events. I get excited to teach. I get excited to play off of what these really skilled teaching companions bring to the table themselves.

One of my favorite learnings about The Circle Way came earlier this year in conversation with Christina. She was framing intent that she and Ann felt very deeply in offering The Circle Way. “We wanted a culturally neutral, light structure to correct what goes awry in so many contemporary forms of meeting.” I’ve always loved the way that Christina can take a deeply spiritual practice and bring it down to the everyday. I’m a pretty natural question catcher. From this statement it makes we want to engage a group around questions of what goes awry in so many meetings, and, what is possible in these meetings?

Circle creates a container for so many of the important conversations needed in the ongoing weave that is humanity. It’s a container for the challenging conversations, the ones that we are often afraid to take on. It’s a container for some of the exciting conversations also, to give them more depth and reach. Wisdom-based change arises from people together. That’s pretty cool. It just needs some support and structure.

I’m grateful for wise people that have guided me. I’m grateful for imaginative and kind teaching companions. I’m grateful to further immerse myself in teachings and practices from The Circle Way over these coming weeks. Because, well, they feel like home in how they animate realness together.