Category: General Learning

In most places that I find myself, people have questions about leadership. How to lead? How to lead better? How to do more with fewer resources? How to create work-life balance?

When these same people are asked to tell stories about their leadership, inevitably they recognize that leadership in these times is a bit crazy. The fact that we can even say that out loud together is a rather good sign.

One of my mentors has said often, the paradigm of leadership is shifting from that of hero to host. Less knowing everything. Less command and control. More convening people together to sense-make, build relationships, to learn, and to accomplish some work together.

Most people I know are learning that there is an inner quality that is essential. A grounding. An ability to stand in uncertainty and in unknowable futures. Many people I know are learning to trust the wisdom of the group, reclaiming an ability to be together to make sense of it all. To reclaim an added quality of life and choice in human endeavor.

Tonight I’m hosting a workshop with a local friend and colleague, Kinde Nebeker. It is called, The Inner and Outer of Evolutionary Leadership. 

I’m looking forward to exploring this in the company of 20 participants

Last night my ten year-old made himself a sandwich. Peanut butter and honey on a sliced bun. “Do you want help?” I asked, suspecting he wouldn’t, but mostly so that he could show his independence. He could tell me no. He’s proud to be able to do it himself. He tries to hide his smile, but I can see him doing it. It’s quite adorable.

My son’s approach to making his sandwich was to make sure that the peanut butter and the honey was carefully spread to all edges of the bun. Not just gobbed in the middle. Not to within a half of an inch of the edges. To the edges, precisely.

He enjoyed eating his sandwich.

This morning, I had to smile as I came to the kitchen, ready to begin the day. There was a fair amount of sticky honey on the counter. I smiled because I knew my son was giving it such attention, trying so hard in the way he thought he should. It’s not a complicated thing to make the sandwich. But for him, good, good focus was his game, to the edges. His extra effort produced a good sandwich and some good sticky remnants.

I’m reading about Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less. Oh, how there is something beautiful about interrupting the trance and seduction that goes by the name of “more.” If I let myself project personal meaning on to the sandwich making incident, my son, in his attempt to be so precise with his sandwich, was missing the ease of less. Now, he’s ten. Who really cares? I’m not about to lecture him on essentialism. For that matter, he might have just liked the way his sandwich looked, which I can fully support. Beauty always matters. Less, however, isn’t as attractive of an option for my son.

I see that many of us are learning about the value of less. It’s the old maxim, “Too much of a good thing turns out to be not such a good thing.” It’s good learning, I find to be applied in working with teams, boards, conference planners, and the lot.

For today, I’m just smiling at this reminder from the sticky honey and a boy that reminds me of a few things I’m trying to learn.

Not too long ago I wrote a piece on powerful questions with a good friend and colleague, Kathleen Masters. I’ve noticed that one of the most common questions I am asked as a consultant and facilitator is about asking powerful questions. People do everything from worry about it to ignore it. Panic in the flatness to exult in the viral engagement. Many want to sharpen their question-asking skills. Many are trying to simplify. Many are trying to encourage more honesty.

This article was written particularly for a faith community audience. But the relevance for improved questions matters pretty much everywhere. I carry a bias that says a big part of our job as humans, is to be curious with one another. To suspend an ever attractive and seductive certainty to explore and witness the territory of the subjective. It is work to do together.

Here’s the highlights Kathleen and I suggested — they came through many dialogues together. There is short description on each of these that follow.

Is the questions meaningful?
Does the question invite curiosity and reflective listening?
Does the question challenge assumptions?
Does the question lead to other questions?
Is the question simple?
Does the question lead to possibility?
Does the question welcome a quality of caring together?
Does the question look for more than yes or no as a response?
Is the question appropriately sequenced?

Kathleen and I also included a section on Tips. They are a few perspectives that help most of us have freedom in our questions.

 

I am preparing for my 18 year-old son to leave in ten days. He will be living in another city for 2 years, doing missionary service. We will not have the same access to each other that we have had. Few phone calls. Limited email. No simple, “hey, what are you doing, want to go _____ together?” I’m supportive of the experience that he is about to have. I can also feel every heart string that I have being tugged.

The preparation is for both him and me. For him, trying to help him be grounded in what will be quite a life-style change. His days will be very full. Teaching. Studying. Taking care of himself. Learning to live with others. This is an initiatory time, which my good friend reminds me is a time for three things to happen, as path to more spiritual, emotional, and physical maturity. One is separation — from community (and into another). Yes, this really tugs. Two is an ordeal — challenge, the working of his soul, the circumstances that will likely throw him into a spin of identity. Tug again. Hope, hope, hope he will come through. Three is a return — to the community from which he left. A return as a changed being.

The experience is not uncommon. He’s not the first. Nor the last. Families go through this. People go through this. I’m just trying to help it be a bit more conscious.

In times like these, it is parting words that I find myself stretching to find and to share. And to hope help. It’s the heart of one person reaching out to the heart of another. Dad to son. “You’ll never be alone” comes to mind. “I’m proud of you” is another. “The journey is for others. The journey is also for you.” “Be kind to yourself; be kind to others.” “Remember the prayer that is 15 minutes of simple silence.” “Figure out the moment in front of you. Most of the time you don’t need to figure out anything more than that.”

It is times like these, when these bits of advice and remembering, are really close to the surface. When the tears well in eyes, and leak down my cheeks. Perhaps that is the gift of times like these — the words and emotions that pull us into the deepest parts of our relationships.