Circle Energetics

Rock Stars

I love this picture above. It is all participants from The Circle Way Practicum earlier this month (except two that were unable to be there — we had collages they created to represent them). I love the picture because it brings back a palpable energy and memory.

One of the teachings that I really found helpful at the practicum was the one on Circle Energetics. I think I found simple words that I’ve been searching for to help describe and understand what I’ve been observing and feeling for a long time in groups about the more subtle yet essential dynamics at play. It comes in these three statements from one of the handouts.

“All living systems emit registerable fields of energy — including us.” I think of it as a vibration. It helps me to think of the first science classes I had when introduced to the properties of waves. They have a frequency (how many cycles in a given time period), an amplitude (height of the wave), and a wavelength (distance between crests). I can see the squiggly lines on paper from those science classes. It helps me to think of those lines when I watch people interacting. I’m making it sound more tangible that I mean it. I mostly feel it, this field of energy. I give myself permission to describe it as vibration to understand even more.

“All interactions between living systems activate these energetic fields.” I think of any human group as a living system. At the practicum, it was the group of 22 of us. My cohost, Amanda Fenton and I designed in a whole lot of interaction for the group — partners, small groups, the full group, solo reflection, play (and of course meals, social time, and sleep). The practicum is more than teaching a methodology, though it is that. It’s activating an energetic field. Now we are getting somewhere, right. It feels like a magician’s secret made clear to help make the uncommon, common.

“Circle organizes the energy emitted by interaction.” This one is the kicker for me that I’m learning the most about. My experience is that Circle creates container for that interaction, and that energy, to make more sense. It creates a kind of coherence that seems fully natural and palpable. One of the things that has helped me learn this more fully is to notice how that energy dissipates when the circle is complete or when the event is over. What felt really clear and simple, becomes fuzzy and more difficult to remember. Almost like a dream — you wake in the middle of the night with it thinking you’ll never forget it. By morning, you wake for the day and it’s completely gone. It is my experience that Circle organizes and clarifies — the best description of depth I’ve found is that it is organizing that energy so that we can access information in another, and often shared, way.

It was a fun piece to teach with Amanda. And it’s been a fun and helpful piece, this clarity of Circle energetics, to notice staying with me. Like the memory of a good meal shared with friends. Or a good party. It stays with us, right. My guess is that it’s the energetic that most lingers.

Coming Home

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Wow! The last two weeks have breezed by. Helping my spouse pack up more of her parent’s home. Squishing in a full car and trunk load to take from eastern Washington to Seattle. Back to back meetings that get a bit bunched before and after events during which I know I won’t be available. Preparing for and hosting The Circle Way Practicum on Whidbey Island, Washington. Seeing my 19 year-old son at the airport, the first I’ve been with him face to face in nearly a year. It was tear-welling and good for the soul. Now arriving to Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania to work with a School of Education planning its coming year.

Early mornings. Full days. Late nights. I’m grateful that most of it has been good or great.

I’m utterly moved by seeing my son. Deeply. I’m so looking forward to witnessing what he has evolved to in these 10 months away. Some listening over dinner. Some play. Some soft voices to share what has happened and tell truths together.

I’m also utterly moved by my experience at The Circle Way Practicum that I co-taught with Amanda Fenton, and fully enjoyed with our other 20 participants. In searching for words to share, the short description that is honest and from the gut, I’ve been saying, “It was like coming home for me. The depth. The connection. The practicality.”

The Circle Way has a pace to it. It’s not a speed date, thought it can be invoked even in that. It’s not a smushed 15 minute small group, though it can be invoked there too. It’s not all serious, ahem, though it is really the best root form I know to enable us to be serious. The Circle Way has a welcoming-in it that brings depth and discovery. The components, I continue to learn, really strengthen the experience. A center. A rim. Agreements. Practices. Depth of a question. A start point. A guardian. They help us remember who we are and who we might want to be together.

I loved the spaciousness of the practicum (though it was not always that way for Amanda and I in our planning and adapting design). But it was spacious in the process. There was room to be heard, that granted, will not happen every day. But the simple reminder, deeply embodied, of this deep presencing and listening together — that changes lives. It did. All of us.

Like coming home.

 

Respectful Disagreement

My friend Amanda Fenton, with whom I’m hosting The Circle Way practicum in a week, wrote recently about some of her learnings on respectful disagreement.

I love it that Amanda takes on the issue of consensus amidst dialogic practice. Just because we talk, and listen, in good ways, doesn’t mean that we will agree or get our way. But it’s different to have that disagreement with real opportunity to be heard than to have disagreement “resolved” with imposition of power.

I think what happens in the best of processes, is that we welcome an understanding to come forward, and in so doing, we’ve built or improved fundamental relationship that in fact can stand in integrity with disagreement.

Amanda’s post is worth a read. Give it a go.

The Need To Tell Our Stories

It is fundamentally human to do so. Tell our stories that is.

It is social glue — with more than 140 characters or two short paragraphs. It is the way that we share experience. “Tell us about your weekend. What’s been happening with your family? Your job? Your garden? Did you watch last night’s episode?”

Or, it was (I would say is) part of ceremony. “Tell us what you have seen. Tell us of the great beyond.” I can imagine those times sitting round the fire. Listening as if life depended on it.

Ah, there it is — perhaps life depends on it, this telling of our stories, and this listening to others tell their stories. Not just social nicety, though I like that too. Nothing wrong with a passing remark about last nights’ ball game. Not just chit chat, filler before moving to the next moment of isolation. Smile. Check.

Our lives depend on the stories we tell ourselves and each other. It takes friends, company, good listeners, and good challengers to help make sense of them. I’m introverted enough to not always want to be out loud. But at some point, our lives our meant to be lived in some community. It is where sense-making is tested, where systems of imagination scale.

In ten days I will be hosting The Circle Way Practicum with a friend and colleague that I really respect — Amanda Fenton. Together we will host a group of 22 people over six days to develop the ability and recall the memory of telling our stories. We will work in large group and in smaller groups of sixish. We will invoke with others a basic process for listening, for presensing, for letting go, and for calling forth — story. “What’s it like to be you? What has your attention? What is important to you? Is there a crossroads you feel you are at?”

With minimal structure, a clear purpose, a real curiosity, and the invocation of story, I believe we can change the world. Grow it back to one that practices engagement and story, evolving the edges of who we are and what we dream possible.

Thank you Charles LaFond, a great story inviter and teller, for inspiring this post.