The Circle Way — University of North Texas

Enjoyed teaching and hosting The Circle Way today with Caitlin Frost, Chris Corrigan. It’s part of three days of participative leadership.

The colored papers are statements of things that these senior leaders (Deans, Assistant Deans, Provost, Department Chairs, Faculty) are proud of at the university. It was a harvest from a check-in process to start our first day together.

Lots of good stuff spoken.

Lots of good energy shared.

Shared Responsibility For Quality — Bells and The Circle Way

Last year I got to teach and host The Circle Way Practicum in Northern New South Wales, Australia. I hosted with Amanda Fenton and Penny Hamilton, both wonderful and skilled people. The participants were fantastic — very committed to learning and connection. I’ve stayed in touch with a few of them in the way that you can’t not do when you’ve been in deep practice together. It’s fun for me to remember the bird sounds of the rain forest and to feel a gratitude for far travels and big journey.

During the practicum, I remember a participant asking, “What is your favorite component of The Circle Way?” The question is a reference to some key structural aspects of circle intended to provide a steering wheel to help correct what goes awry in many contemporary meetings and gatherings. The question was asked in a playful way — like inviting response to what was your favorite vacation ever? My response to such questions is usually a delighted smile, to be asked. And it usually has some, “well, in this moment of reflection, here is one of my favorites….”

If I were responding to this question now, from my learning of the last two months in particular, I’d have to say that my “favorite” component is the guardian, and even further, using bells or a singing bowl as a way of inviting shared responsibility (one of the three principles). In The Circle Way tradition, the role of guardian is to help keep the circle on it’s intended purpose. This is a great thing. The guardian most often sits across from the person hosting the circle. I often say as a caution that the guardian doesn’t police the circle. The guardian is full participant, but gives extra attention to the energetic quality of the circle — is it on track, are we getting tired, are we getting to speedy, is it time for restrooms.

My favorite thing with guardian lately, has been two aspects. First, naming the practice of ringing the bells twice (or another agreed device). The first ring is to pause the action and dialogue that is happening. The second ring is to resume action and dialogue, but before that resumption, to share a sentence about why the bell was rung. Perhaps it was to slow down. Or, to hear what is being spoken. Or ringing the bells just to pause.

The second favorite aspect with guardian is naming that anyone in the circle can ask the guardian to ring the bell. The guardian may be the person holding the bells or has them resting in front of them, but anyone in the circle can ask the guardian to ring them, and then follow the same protocol of pausing, resuming, and sharing what was the reason to ring them.

I have often said that the circle is not about the bells. It’s true that you can circle without bells or a similar signal. I’ve said that what matters is the spirit of being in circle. Both of those orientations remain true for me. However, it’s become much more clear to me that this experience of sharing responsibility for the well-being of the group is transformational. That simple practice moves the circle from “yours to ours” or from “someone’s to all of ours.” It’s coupled with a group agreement to pause from time to time, and to have the full group tend to that agreement of tending to the full group. It’s one of those expressions of leader in every chair.

Learning together, this will always matter. Like it did in Northern New South Wales last year. Sometimes it’s the little things that make such a big difference. Shared responsibility and leadership are tremendous values. Good words. The role of guardian and utilizing the bells to pause is practice, is todo, that brings the words of shared responsibility to vibrant life.

I’m glad to be teaching this again in two months, back to Australia with Penny and Amanda, a bit further north in the Sunshine Coast area.

Come? To ring the bells in learning and connection and cultivation of essential practices of shared leadership.

 

As The Circle Grows, So Grows the Center

I love the way that over the course of time, a center of a circle can grow from simple marker that holds the middle of a room, to symbolic and energetically rich hub, created by those participating.

This happened at the retreat that I co-hosted this past weekend with friend Quanita Roberson in Cincinnati, for a group of 15 of us, Friday – Sunday. We arrive as a new group on Friday night to find our way to chairs for the evening to begin with layers of hello together. By Sunday, our center was packed with stories, shared questions, dreams, and tender wonderings together.

The format of the gathering looks something like this.

I love the growing center of this.
First, a circle of friends candle, and a ring of Caroline Myss Light and Shadow cards.
Second, rearranged living room to create space for all turned to one another.
Third, flipped over archetype cards, inviting the light and the shadow, along with personal items representing varied crossroads, and a burning candle for each person.
Last, collaged posters to create additional access to the archetypes that rest in each of us (even the denied ones).

Meaningful centers matter.

 

Artistry

My last eight days have been filled with good teaching and community. First The Circle Way Practicum. Then immediately following, Soultime, a men’s weekend retreat. Both times were rich with story telling, with tenderness, and with the learning that only comes from having ample time together. I love the non-linearity of learning that arises in these two environments. It is the sensation of not just living, but being lived. If it were meditation, rather than breathing, it would be the sensation of being breathed. If it were writing, rather than me writing words it would be the sensations of words writing me. To discover, even glimpse what is beneath the surface of perceived reality — that’s gold. To do that in community — that’s priceless.

This morning, I’m peeking my head up at the home of Chris Corrigan and Caitlin Frost. Chris and I just had coffee at his kitchen table. Shared a bit of breakfast together. Caught up. This kind of friendship is also priceless. It’s a gift.

And with that, I’m loving Chris’ words from an earlier blogpost on Artistry. What I learn in deep experience together of the ilk of the last eight days, is that I crave the artistry of practice and living. The dutiful mechanics of practice and living have their place. As in, really important place. But, the impulse of artistry — well that touches the being breathed, being written, being communed part, doesn’t it.

Enjoy Chris’ words. I did. And the coffee. And the breakfast. And the friendship.

The 14 steps of the artists journey to mastery (based on the last 30 years of my experience)

1. Cultivate the desire to create beauty
2. Discover a medium for doing so
3. Seek the teachers who can teach you how to use the tools of your medium faithfully
4. Use the tools faithfully to make simple things.
5. Ask why things work and why they don’t
6. With that knowledge, modify your tools to do what needs to be done beyond simplicity.
7. Discover the limitations of your tools.
8. Become a tool maker
9. Take on apprentices and teach them to use the tools faithfully to make simple things
10. Take on apprentices and help them reflect on why they are succeeding and failing.
11. I don’t know…I haven’t got there yet
12. Unimaginable to me, but I see it.
13. Wow.

14. The unrealized ideal master that I aspire to become, should I be given more than one lifetime to do so.

Along the way, be aware of the following:
* self-doubt
* errors at different scales
* mistakes and regret
* joy and surprise
* the desire of others to learn from you
* the feeling that you have nothing to offer them
* times of steep learning and times of long periods of integration
* waxing and waning of inspiration
* Rule 6a applies at all times.