Friendship, Connection, Robustness

It’s a simple story. Yet also, a guiding practice.

Many years ago I became intrigued by my colleague Chris Corrigan’s statement — “Friendship is the business model.” For me it remains true that 95% of the work I do starts with some quality of friendship. People come to a workshop, like what they see and feel, and inquire about doing something similar or more. I love how this works. The work comes from friendship and grows friendship.

Lately, I’ve been intrigued to add to that statement — “Connection is the operating system.” For me, it remains true that so much of what people seek is connection. Or, the wisdom they seek is found in connection. This means that I design both small and large group process to create connection. Sometimes, just to be human — “What is it that you are grateful in your work? Is there something you feel challenged by in your work? What are the most important questions for us to explore if we are to thrive in our commitments?”

And lately, lately, I’ve added a third observation and invitation — “Connection so as to create more robustness together.” It’s nice to be nice, but that’s not the primary reason for why I create connection as a facilitator. I design meetings and agendas to help a system of people be smarter together. Or wise. Or creative. Or honest. Or able to stand in the troubles together.

Simple story. That guides choices.

 

The Thing Behind The Thing Behind The Thing

[Also available on Human to Human, The Podcast, 6.5 minutes]

This phrase is one of my favorites these days. The thing behind the thing behind the thing. It suggests quest. It suggests layers. It suggests “ongoing” (I could very easily add ellipsis…). It’s narrative for what I feel we are so often up to in teams, groups, communities, and families. It’s also straight talk, plain and simple.

A particular kind of thing behind the thing that I am compelled toward is “operating system.” It’s the part that makes things go. Often invisibly. In teams, groups, communities, and families. It’s the unseen part. In a car, operating system is engine. Though in that case, I just like that the buttons and functions work. Same in a computer. I don’t get wowed by technical specifications (I suppose I should). I’m just glad that it functions reliably. And, well, that there is elegance and beauty. I also have preference lately, challenging myself, to operating systems that are living, not just mechanical. There are operating systems in soil. In gardens. In forests. It ain’t so odd to think that the trees and the plants “talk.” Botanists have been telling us this for a while now, often catching up to what has been indigenous wisdom for centuries and millennia.

I totally enjoyed the gift of a conversation yesterday with some colleagues and companions in The Circle Way. In the middle of our conversation, hosted in circle of course, I found another layer of thing behind thing. We participants were trees, that in the space of those 90 minutes on the video conference, became forest. And the oxygen produced, was, well, ability to breathe, and, a clarity. Unlike mechanical and electrical operating systems I love to dive into consciousness and awareness operating systems (which have a bit of electricity to them).

Here it is for me. It represents some ongoing learning and clarifying and simplifying:

The Circle Way is both methodology and way of being.
As methodology, it is often referenced as a tool or group process format.
As methodology, this is where there is often leaning into the components wheel, also as tools (agreements, practices, roles, etc).
It is often used for dialogue, learning, and connection.
It feels fruitful and essential and helpful to me to learn the methodology well.
To use skillfully with groups.

As way of being, The Circle Way points to a kind of cultural pattern.
It interrupts unintended siloing.
It presumes an expectation that who we are together is different and more than who we are alone.
And thus, there is gut level orientation to the possibility of an emergence from the interaction.
As way of being, it’s less formula, and becomes more instinct (I would say, grown from methodological robustness).
It is an inherent reliance on wholeness (sometimes brought forward because of silence, or pause).
It is welcome, even expectation, that there just might be some mystery to notice together.
Yup, as way of being, circle’s oxygen is often learning, connection, and insight.
Yup, it is utterly fruitful to learn and be in continued practice.

One of the most exciting experiences in the world for me is the kind of aliveness that come from insight, so often grown with people willing to lean into thing behind the thing. I’m grateful for a good many companions and colleagues that bring their own versions of this.

My next open enrollment circle offerings include:

The Circle Way Practicum at Whidbey Island, August 14-19, 2019
The Circle Way Online Class, Tuesdays, September 17 – October 15, 2019
Great Facilitation: An Art of Hosting Intensive in Denver, October 23-25, 2019 (not exclusively circle; includes other participative methodologies and ways of being)
Fire & Water Leadership Cohort Near Cincinnati, October 30 – November 3, 2019 (first of three in person gatherings, using circle as root form)
Courageous Meeting: The Circle Way in Cincinnati, November 19-20, 2019 (a new offering)
The Circle Way Advanced Practicum at Whidbey Island, December 5-9, 2019

 

 

 

On Operating Systems in Groups — Try Thinking Less

[Also available on Human to Human, The Podcast, 3.5 minutes]

I suppose I like the intent of the language that is operating system. It’s rather mechanical, like cogs in an old clock. Or it’s rather electronic, like the needed infrastructure for your computer to run. Both of these directions are a bit outside of the living systems images that many of us are conjuring and growing.

It’s a mixing of common use of language, but I’m guessing that there is an operating system involved with the sunflowers growing along the nearby trail. Or in the green vines that wildly grow in my back yard. 1. Reach for the sun. 2. Rest on what is near you, including a neighbor vine. 3. Then reach again.

Or I remember the rule of Boids from many years ago that were three simple rules that created simulated flocking. 1. Fly to the perceived center of mass of the group of boids. 2. Maintain the same small distance from other objects, including other boids. 3. Match the perceived speed of nearby boids.

I’m the kind of human that likes to explore the operating systems for working with groups. I suppose I’ve been searching for and experimenting with improvements most of my life. So as to add more consciousness. Or kindness. Or brilliance accessed through the whole of it.

Below is a version of “operating system” that I’ve been working on, also for most of my life. But the words for this have come more recently.

Enjoy.

 

Think Less

Think less.
Feel more.

Plan less.
Presence more.

Doubt less.
Trust more.

Release.
Give to.

Tumble forward.
Surrender.

Surprise and Beauty

I love it when simple exercises have significant impact. You know, the kind that seem almost silly because they are so simple. That seem like a distraction from the “real work.” Silly they aren’t, so often. And often, they are just the right kind of real.

Last week I got to do one of those with my friends at Soultime, while on Bowen Island. Dave Waugh was the one that offered it, a twenty minute bare foot walk in the forest. I don’t want to over describe my experience with too much rational thinking brain to flesh out the “why.” For me it was enough to encounter the world through different senses, and to disrupt the normal goto habits.

Off the twelve of us went. In silence. And with invitation to pay attention. Some carried a question. For me, it was just an intent that I realize is a super important operating system for me. Mostly looking down at the ground and taking slow, short steps (that was the invitation) I decided that I wanted to pay attention to what surprised me and to what felt beautiful.

First thing that caught my attention (because this is less about strategizing an outcome) was a simple piece of a branch that was about the size and length of my index finger. It had been splintered in roughly half. Dried bark on the outside. A couple of oval layers of tan and brown on the inside. The surprise and beauty that I immediately wondered about was about the story of this little branch. Was it broken from chopping wood. Was it splintered from falling off of a tree? Was it carried and dropped by a bird? It was intriguing to me that there was story to this little branch, as there is story to pretty much everything. The story has always been the interesting part of the encounter.

I walked further. Slow steps. Again mostly looking down. It was a sunny day which made all of this very easy. I was loving the silence. I was loving the simplicity as I began to feel the ground with my feet. As if they were my hands. The soft green moss. Even the crunchy dried branches part — it was good to feel what I normally wouldn’t when wearing shoes. I loved walking on a fallen log. Different textures. Different feels. More surprise and more beauty — I suppose these are always there if we are willing to give them attention.

As I continued to walk, still mostly looking down, I decided to look up through the trees. Again, simple as it sounds, the contrast of experience from such deliberate looking down, well that was delicious. The blue sky through the tree tops. The suddenly extended range beyond 6 feet to the height of the trees and the infinity of the sky. I loved it. And then, a gust of wind rushed through the trees.

Look down. Look up. Listen. That’s what I came up with.

And then the bell rang to signal return for the twelve of us to the yurt to share what we noticed.

Look for surprise and beauty. Look down. Look up. Listen.

It was just a simple exercise. Oh ya, a simple exercise that woke something up in me. Thanks Dave. Thanks Soultime.