Category: General Learning

A few weeks ago a friend and I spent 45 minutes together on a Skype call. He is working with faith communities. He knows that I have done significant work with faith communities. He wanted to explore some of that.

We did. We explored some of the dynamics. Some key questions. Some important assumptions. It was really quite enjoyable.

But it was his last statement when checking out of our call that really caught my attention. “I don’t know what the answer is, but I want to be involved in the mystery.”

Beautiful. Enough said. That’s what friends are for (even when in teams and congregations).

Yesterday, a friend / colleague (frolleague) and I were speaking about some ways to set up some community engagement that she was planning. Not set up as in tables and chairs. Rather, setup that is a narrative and invitation that sets the tone for people to turn to one another. It matters. It is one of my favorite conversations to have.

I often rely on one of two approaches to that setup narrative: 1) a personal story that connects to the overarching purpose (if it’s about forming better relations, tell a personal story of when you’ve experienced better relations, or, of a story when you knew that relationships weren’t good); 2) an expression of what I love about the method we are using to listen and learn together (if it’s Circle then make talk about how Circle help improve listening, or slows us down to be heard differently).

I tend to rely on the right story coming to me in the immediate hours or minutes preceding my convening with them. It matters that it be honest, simple, and from the heart more than delivering it with perfect polish.

Yesterday’s conversation with my frolleague had me recalling these two paragraphs from physicist David Bohm (excerpted from Joseph Jaworski’s book, Synchronicity: The Inner Path of Leadership:

On dialogue

“From time to time, (the) tribe (gathered) in circle. They just talked and talked and talked, apparently to no purpose. They made no decisions. There was no leader. And everybody could participate. There may have been wise men or wise women who were listened to a bit more–the older ones–but everybody could talk. The meeting went on, until it finally seemed to stop for no reason at all and the group dispersed. Yet after that, everybody seemed to know what to do, because they understood each other so well. Then they could get together in smaller groups and do something or decide things.”

And then more, on “superconductivity,”

“Bohm compared dialogue to superconductivity. ‘In superconductivity, electrons cooled to a very low temperature act more like a coherent whole than as separate parts. They flow around obstacles without colliding with one another, creating no resistance and very high energy. At higher temperatures, however, they begin to act like separate parts, scattering into a random movement and losing momentum.’ In dialogue, the goal is to create a special environment in which a different kind of relationship among parts can come into play — one that reveals both high energy and high intelligence.”

It leads to great questions, right. “What cools us? What cools you? Where do you experience no resistance? When have you experienced high energy here? It sets context, an invitation to be together in the most meaningful way that we can muster.

And that, I find, changes all of us. That’s when people say, “whatever that was, let’s do more of that.”

 

 

Joseph Campbell, known often for his work on The Power of Myth, said, “Where you stumble, there your treasure lies.” Argh! I recognize this as true, even though often I really want to avoid looking at my stumbles.

Recently, I felt a stumble in my work with a prospective client, a first contact with them. To be honest, I don’t know if they have noticed or not, but I felt it in me.

I was talking to them about an initiative that they were creating. They invited me to the conversation. Their initiative included a couple of meetings with stakeholders that they wanted some help with. They wanted to create more engagement. More sharing of story. More sharing of questions. More turning to one another. This is work that I can do well. I immediately had ideas that would work quite well for them to accomplish what they were hoping.

But something didn’t feel right in the conversation. Something was a bit out of alignment for me in how I was talking to them. I couldn’t put my finger on it in the moment, but then realized a stumble and a treasure.

One layer of the work with them was simple facilitation. They were asking me if I could do that with them. And the answer to that is yes. I do that all of the time. I know many of the dynamics at play. I know how to cut through the tensions. I know how to shift the energy by the question asked. I have much experience with this.

However, another layer of the work was beyond facilitation. I believe, it was about creating more of a culture that remembers how to turn to one another, to be curious with one another, to have some processes for getting unstuck with one another. This layer of work is about changing a culture.

I don’t doubt that the “mere facilitation” would be very useful and lead to much good. But it’s the culture creating level that is far more interesting to me, and far more helpful to the client system. “Facilitation for us,” even with great participative processes, is an unintended pattern from an older paradigm of leadership that relies way to much on the seduction of expertise. “Culture creating with us” — now that’s changing minds and thinking patterns that feels like the much more needed experience. That’s what I really wanted to invite this client to see and to be in together. I wasn’t communicating that with them — thus the stumble.

“Culture creating” reminds me of the physicist David Bohm’s remark, “The ability to perceive or think differently is more important than the knowledge gained.” David Bohm, with all of his great merging of physics with dialogue (“meaning flowing through”) was pointing to this culture making.

What will happen with this client? It’s too soon to tell. But in the stumble, my own stumble on the path that is fierce commitment to the deepest purpose and most benevolent outcome, there is a treasure that changes how I will follow up with them and how we might work together that feels very honest and exciting.

Dr. Donald M. Berwick is a Senior Fellow at American Progress. He is also president emeritus and a senior fellow at the Institute for Healthcare Improvement, or IHI, which Dr. Berwick co-founded and led as president and CEO for 18 years. He is one of the nation’s leading authorities on health care quality and improvement. Don was an appointee by President Barack Obama to lead the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, but faced significant opposition by the Republican Party. He’s a person that’s been involved in politics and healthcare as a big chunk of his life.

Don Berwick is also a person who addressed the graduating class of Yale Medical School in 2010. This passage below was sent to me by a friend that I’ve been in conversation with lately about mystery, healthcare, and promoting wellness.

“But, now I will tell you a secret – a mystery.  Those who suffer need you to be something more than a doctor; they need you to be a healer. And, to become a healer, you must do something even more difficult than putting your white coat on. You must take your white coat off. You must recover, embrace and treasure the memory of your shared, frail humanity – of the dignity in each and every soul. When you take off that white coat in the sacred presence of those for whom you will care – in the sacred presence of people just like you – when you take off that white coat, and, tower not over them, but join those you serve, you become a healer in a world of fear and fragmentation, an ‘aching’ world, as your chaplain put it this morning, that has never needed healing more.”

Mystery will always matter. Wow, that’s a strong statement that I just let write itself onto the page. Mystery. Impermanence. An orientation in all of us that releases the ridiculous hold of certainty that is over used, over played and idolized.

I’m grateful to my friend for highlighting this passage. And for people like Berwick who, though I haven’t met, calls forth a part of many of us that senses how powerful it is to be in that mystery together.