The Four Fold Practice

There are some teachings that have impacted me a lot in the last 20 years. That have become foundational for not only what stirs on the surface, but what churns at a molten, magma level. One of these for me, that I find myself returning to lately as I work with core teams, is “The Four Fold Practice” that grew among us in the Art of Hosting community of practitioners.

When I have introduced The Four Fold Practice at workshops, often I’ve referenced it as a curriculum that should be covered over at least two years. Each of its practices, its folds, are worth significant attention, learning, and dwelling with. And, as it is named, it is “practice.” It isn’t something you acquire and then are done (though I suppose this could be more true if thinking at the mastery level of 10,000 hours of practice when it becomes you). It is something you continue to do. And develop. And evolve. And stretch with. Just like cardio-fitness isn’t a one time, or a one week thing either.

Why I’m appreciating this model with core teams is that I’m trying to encourage from the onset the aspect of taking a journey together. Not just a meeting. Not just a series of planning sessions. Not just a single car-ride. It is journey. With unknowns, uncertainties, fears, excitements, questions to linger with, water to draw, food to prepare, and adaptations all along the way.

Here’s the folds in the practice:

Be Present — Showing up is the work. It sounds a bit silly to say such a basic thing. Yet, contemporary society demands much from most of us, doesn’t it. Multi-tasking is a norm (and even a shame if unable to keep up). I know of few people who aren’t required to do twice the work in half the time and with half of the resources. How the globalization pattern of incessantly seeking growth will evolve (or implode) in society is for another day of writing. Suffice it say that there are demands on all of us. And it gives rise, increasingly so, to an ability to practice focus, clarity of purpose, and stillness — both personally and corporally with a group.

Participate — Showing up from a practice of presence (perfection isn’t required), makes a big difference in participation. It’s not passive listening just waiting for the damn meeting to end. It’s not loaded-for-bear confrontation to bully one’s talking points. Presence changes the way that any of us are able to participate in gatherings. Adding in just a bit more ability to listen to what others say, to be curious about each other and ourselves and the many choices of how we approach our task at hand — this matters, right. In my work with The Circle Way, there are three practices that are always encouraged that I find guide participation. Speak with intention. Listen with attention. Tend to the well-being of the group. It’s part of the nuancing of participation, key reminders for all of us.

Host — To participate in society (and communities, and families, and teams) means that you will have your share of stepping in to host. To convene. To create containers so that many people can be in their learning together. Or their imagination. Or their grief. As some of my colleagues have said, “Hosting conversations is both more and less than facilitating. It is an act of leadership and means taking responsibility for creating and holding the ‘container’ in which a group of people can do their best work together.” Hosting does imply some of the basics — a time, a place, chairs, sometimes food. It’s not, however, about passing time. I often think of it as a practice of “activating and animating a composite being.” I think of it as waking up the “we” that is present and yet so illusive, though many of our cultural traditions point us at best to expect, “a collection of me’s.”

Co-Create — This one is the zinger to me. You can see from the above diagram the references to learning, and the evolution from “becoming a learner” to a “community of learners” to a “community that learns.” All of these are important. However, the community that learns, that holds as core identity the practices and habits of paying attention, amplifying curiosity, gathering to listen well together, unleashing creative energy to experiment together, trusting and supporting amidst unavoidable unknowns, uncertainties, and complexities — now that’s something to write home about. Co-creation, that deliberateness — it’s the gold of the journey, scaled. It’s the thing you look back to in 20 years and recognize, that’s when we changed, essentially so, who we were.

Here’s to core teams willing to take the journey. I’m glad to be involved with such good people, committed to holding each other from one point of the journey to the next.

 

 

Magic In The Community & Stone Soup

Yesterday I met for the first time with a core team beginning to plan a three day gathering in September 2017. There were seven of us. We have plenty of time to plan the actual gathering — the times, the teachings, the methods used, etc. — that was not the focus for yesterday. What I liked in yesterday’s meeting is that we began to say hello to each other in this context. Lead by a friend, the committee chair, it was well-hosted with a simple starting question — What is it that excites you about being part of this team?

I find that a team gets formed when we start sharing desires. There is the making a list of who will be involved part and some key roles. That’s good and needed. But it really gets juicy when we give ourselves permission to wander a bit together about what is going on, what is exciting, what is challenging, and get a glimpse of connection between what individual people care about and how that relates to what we can do collectively (at this meeting there will be 150 or so participating). Each person spoke a bit about excitement. One person spoke about enjoying the 2016 gathering so much and wanting to know what was the “special sauce.” His intuition told him it was about people in deliberate forms of turning to one another.

I have found this insight about community to be true, with of course a bit of nuancing that is about turning to one another in stories, and questions, and sadnesses, and play. The community itself, in the act of getting curious together, is the special sauce.

Another friend and colleague traveling in Mumbai recently sent me an invitation to a community gathering there, along with this version of Stone Soup.

Stone Soup: A popular folktale tells of a visitor to a village who notices that the villagers seldom do anything together. On his travels he has picked up an unusual looking small pebble. He points to this “magic”stone and invites everyone to share in a magical meal prepared with the power of this stone: “stonesoup“’. But, each one would need to bring something to add to the soup. So all the villagers arrive with carrots, tomatoes, beans and so forth, and soon there is a delicious soup which they all enjoy together. They are delighted at coming back together and sharing and realize the magic of community is not in the stone.
The special sauce is the community. The magic is the community. Animating and grounding each other. And this is true at the core team level, just starting a journey together. And for the imagining of 150 people together when the time comes.

Unity Project

I love this short video shared by a person on the Core Hosting Team for the annual meeting of the UCC Central Pacific Conference. Today was a first meeting, mostly about beginning to say hello to each other in this context of preparing together for a meeting in September. There will be about ten of us to journey together to create connection, theme, invitation, learning, reflection, the meeting itself, and post-meeting noticing together.

I love the parts of creating connection with words and beyond words. Makes me want to do this!

Gremlins

Finally had a friend figure this out for me. Something in the way that WordPress interacts with Go Daddy blocked automatic emails being sent from my Human to Human blog to notify readers of a new post. Since January no less! It’s mystery beyond what I could figure out and not the kind of mystery that I love. I’m massively thankful to my friend and website wizard who knows stuff. Thanks for baring with.

A few highlights:

Make It Six — A game that I created with my 9 year-old son on dislocating certainty. That’s not how he says it, but you can get the gist of the purpose with that.

From Things Residual — On getting good at using what is in front of you to create splendor.

Keeping Still — A poem from Pablo Naruda that is really guiding me these days. It’s my craving for huge silence and letting go.

Time and Time Again — a poem I wrote of valuing the time outside of time, at least enough to remember the option!