Profiles of Courage in Zimbabwe

More than a thousand years ago, they came from the north of Africa, leaving the violence and seeking peace.  They came and they settled in an area that became known as the Great Zimbabwe, a kingdom from 1200-1500 AD which is estimated to have had a population of more than 10,000 and famous, today, for its unique stone architecture.  Little is known about Great Zimbabwe.  There was no written tradition amongst the people who came to be known as the Shona.  Some speculate that perhaps somewhere, lost in the archives describing the travel of Arabic traders across the African continent, there might still be records and more information.

I’ve just finished a week at the Great Zimbabwe, in the company of a little more than 30 passionate, committed, insightful and experienced Zimbabweans who are the leaders of a number of nonprofit initiatives.  My colleagues Marianne Knuth and Simone Poutnik offered a four-day training in the Art of Participatory Leadership under the guidance of Sabi Consulting, which is the steward of a network of nonprofits called Profile. When I arrived in Zim a little more than a week ago, it just felt good to be home as the spring Jacaranda trees release the majesty of their purple blossoms against the African sky.  I realized that I’ve been to this country more than any other in the last decade, except my own.  Zimbabwe has been a great teacher for me.  It has shown how people can come together to develop resilience in times of collapse.

My mind makes up stories when I don’t know what to expect.  I try to stop it – but it has a will of its own.  I arrived not knowing what to expect of this week.  Will the political stasis of Zanu PF and MDC hold a grip over this training?  So many have fled from Zimbabwe in the last decade, who is left that will come to this training?  Will they be eager to engage and learn or will they be reserved and cautious?  Who will they be?  Especially given that my work these past two years has concentrated in Japan, will I be able to speak and host in this culture in a way that is useful?  What will happen?

I’m just humbled and amazed.  WOW.  What an incredible group of people.  Each day as I learned more of their stories and their work I just felt deep gratification.  They are the people who are tirelessly working with what they have to build resilient communities.  AND, much of their work is confined within somewhat traditional structures where hierarchy is the only organizing pattern and where the priorities of the donor dictate many of the parameters of their work.

It was a difficult and demanding week.  They came expecting to be trained in participatory leadership, and found themselves sitting in a circle.  Some of them arrived wanting to know our definitions and expecting us to be carefully articulating frameworks and theories.  Instead, we invited them into exploration and questions.  Some wanted us to give them answers – we said good questions are more important.

In the Art of Participatory Leadership, we believe that a participatory experience is the key component of the learning field.  By the end of the first day, some of the participants were asking is your only theory one of keeping us confused??

 As our time together continued, there were many times of push back:  people here learn by being instructed – they are not asked questions, they are told answers?  People want to be delegated clear tasks with clear performance measures.  We’re not all that free, ourselves, to ask questions:  our donors tell us what they want us to do and how to measure it or our funding will be revoked.  In Zimbabwe’s crises, too many of our staff are just here because they need a job – they are not that committed and some are not all that well educated.  What is motivation for participation when the Director is paid eight times as much as others on the staff?

But beneath these questions was a yearning, and a knowing.  Some of our language didn’t make all that much sense, but as we hung in there together, there started to be a listening beneath the words.  I think the participants were beginning to connect what we said was possible with their own sense of yearning.  And the listening wasn’t all one-sided:  I certainly came to understand more and more how thoughtful, careful and strategic people will need to be in implementing more participatory learning processes in organizations.

In many ways part of this is the continuing burden of colonialism where people here were told that their own indigenous knowing and their own ways of building and maintaining community were woefully inadequate.  The white experts from the north would organize things in a proper sort of way.  They brought with them burearcracy for organization and new ways to measure, control and account for progress. The colonialists also brought a view that the resources and bounty of the world were there for the use of the most intelligent and powerful.

These views have been super-imposed on top of indigenous knowing and don’t fit. But formal education in Zimbabwe is based on learning from someone who stands in front of a classroom and tells them day-after-day that the world is mechanical and predictable.  Someone has to be in charge and tell others what to do.  Policies and procedures will guide actions under which people will use the authority delegated to them by the person at the top to achieve pre-determined results.

We worked in this dance between the really old – indigenous knowing, the old – traditional leadership from the colonial and modern era, and the new – participatory leadership to co-discover what would serve Zimbabwe well, now.  Each offer insights into ways of seeing the world and ways of being in the world.  The chart I drew, above, is pretty dichotomous chart and can lead to either/or thinking.  That’s not really useful for many reasons.   What is useful, I believe, is seeing how participatory leadership can be brought in to organizations to open up new insights, new possibilities, and new patterns of accountable action.

Those who came are more than able to work together to create a new Zimbabwe.  They have the fire and the will.  I suspect that many from this past week will take some of our ideas, structures, processes and tools and begin to adapt them for use in their own organizations.  I hope they will continue to find ways to support each other in stepping into this area of practice.  I know they have dedicated their lives to their work.  And I know they have perseverance!

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Design of Four Days:   Day One; Day Two;Day Three; Day Four

Many thanks to Simone Poutnik for the photos and for the design day depictions!

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Resilient Japan

Hello friends,

Right now my work has taken me to Japan — in a big way.  We’ve launched a new website:  www.resilientjapan.org as host for this work and the commentary I am writing from there.  I will be bringing some of this over into Resilient Communities, because it is the same work.  But right now most of my writing is on this small new website.  Please come see what’s happening beneath the visible surface in Japan.

I’m working closely with Art of Hosting – Japan and KDI’s Future Centers — both described in earlier blogs from my work in Japan last year.

Blessings,  Bob

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One week in Japan

Mt. Fuji revealed itself today, for the first time since I’ve been in Kiyosato, a small town in the mountains a couple of hours south and west of Tokyo.  This silent sentinel is always on the rim, hosting Japan.  Often hidden by many layers of clouds, it is always there.  Sometimes just a glimmer… I love it when Fuji-san shows itself.  It helps me to quiet my spirit and simply be present.  Again and again, that is what many of you have said in these  days:  Stay present.  Be where you are.  Notice what calls your attention.  Act with respect, compassion and dignity.  Stay clear while staying unattached.  Be prepared to be surprised.  Stay connected.

Yesterday we met for a day to sense why might want to happen.  Let me give a little background.  The KEEP at Kiyosato (http://www.ackeep.org/) was started in the 1930s by an American named Paul Rusch who brought modern farming practices to Japan.  He helped people here transform their mountainside into a demonstration center for new ways to raise cattle.  Along the way he helped to build a hospital here, another in Tokyo and founded a University in Tokyo.  Quite a guy, to say the least.  His spirit is deeply present here, although he died in his early eighties more than 30 years ago.  There never was a grand plan for the KEEP, it simply evolved overtime, working with the people and possibilities present in this one small area in Japan.

Among other things, it is a lovely space now where groups come to meet and people arrive for quiet retreats.  Last year we held two major training events for Art of Hosting here.  While the Tohoku region where the disasters struck on 3/11 is some 250 miles to the north, the disasters struck here as well.  First, and most powerful, it shows up in the subtle field.  The deep connections which hold people together in Japan also mean that the grief in one part is felt throughout.  So there is a deep collective grieving here.  People say time and time again is that the future for all of Japan is different now.  Some things may stay the same, but everything needs to be re-imagined.  The new Japan that emerges will be grounded in traditional values and beliefs, they say, and the future is different now.  Secondly, on a more material level, everyone is affected as well.  Occupancy at the KEEP is down to 30%.  Most young people have lost their part-time jobs.  Rolling power black-outs have hit all of Japan, including here.  Quakes have happened here in the last month as well.  People know their lives have changed.  They’re not sure how.

The week after 3/11, Yamamoto-san, a wonderful deeply present man who has been here for many years, got in the KEEPs bus and drove to Fukushima, the area where the power plants are.  He had to do something.  Somehow he found his way to one shelter among many.  A sports complex, it has some of the best conditions around.  2000 people — mostly in their 60s and 70s — now live there.  Only a small portion of the total number displaced by the disasters.  Only a small portion and totally overwhelming as well.  He brought 43 people back to the KEEP to stay in better conditions for a while.  A small drop in the bucket, but it was what he could do.  43 people who could sleep in real beds, have real baths, eat real food.  43 people who could be warm even while they still shivered with their grief.  Yamamoto-san took this small step, not knowing what was next — but trusting this beginning.

So yesterday we met?  What is next.  What can this small place do that might make a difference?  A difference in the lives of people who live near here, those from Fukushima, those from other parts of Japan.  A difference in the lives of those who work here are have seen the future they know disappear.  It is easy to get overwhelmed.  I know I did when I first heard Yamamoto-san’s story.  2000 people living with almost no privacy in a sports complex; for four weeks each day the government has brought them rice balls to eat.  Four weeks in which life as they know it is gone — and nothing in sight.  What can make a difference?

Kato-san had just returned from Sendai, a region he has been many times before.  When he got off the train, he knew the difference.  Not just the broken buildings — but what was in the air.  It just felt different.  Subdued, almost glazed over.  He saw some young people and talked with them.  Wandering aimlessly in the rubble they wanted to know — what can we do?  He had no answers of course.  Almost overwhelmed by his own sense of grief and loss, he could only stand with theirs.  Devastation, devastation, overwhleming devastation made even more real by the many pockets where life looks like normal.  Stores destroyed.  Stores shuttered.  Stores opened.  Side-by-side.

We spent the morning just dwelling in our confusion.  Sharing impressions.  Letting the grief flow.  Bewildered.  2000 people.  What could the KEEP do.  And what about the people here, and elsewhere in Japan, with their own grief.  We went on a trip to visit to the Paul Rusch Museum here to see what inspiration it might provide.  Paul’s story is quite inspiring.  By the end of his life, his motto of “do your best, and make it first class” was well know here.  It reminds me of the principle “get a clear sense of direction and then find the minimum elegant next step,” something Berkana has learned from the World Cafe Community.

What’s the direction?  Where are the starting points?  What resources does the KEEP have and how can they be used?  What can be done to invite people into their wholeness?  What might make a difference.  Many of us started drawing concentric circles  KEEP in the middle, then Kiyosato, then Fukushima, then all of Japan, then all of the World.  It’s all connected.  AND, one of the things Paul Rusch did was he connected people.

By the end of the day, there was still no clarity.  What’s the stone to drop in the middle of the concentric circles so they become ripples, leading outward to a newness?  A sense was present that some of what the KEEP might do is around youth and youth leading.  A sense that this facility has a new purpose.  A wondering if it might be one of the Future Centers — places of innovation to discover the future — needed now in Japan.

This morning an idea began to crystalize.  Yamamoto-san leaves tomorrow for Fukushima for three days.  He goes to discover what they have — not what they need.  He goes to look for several youth who have dealt with their grief enough to be ready to stand with each other to discover a next step.  Contours of a possibility began to be visible.  We will host an 3 day event at the KEEP in the middle of May.  It will be for around 100 people.  Most of them will be youth.  The majority will come from Fukushima and they will come from three sources — youth living inside the sports complex shelter who are starting to come back to life, youth serving in the shelter, and youth from the “normal area” around the shelter.  They’ll be joined by 25 or so youth from the Kiyosato area and 25 or so from Tokyo.  Purposes envisioned for this gathering include:

  1. Be in our grief together.  Be in all the different griefs surfaced by these disasters.
  2. Enjoy and breathe in this beauty.
  3. Connecting youth of different ages with each other as well as with other generations.
  4. Begin to see  the resources we have and how to use them.  What strengths, what assets, what dreams, what skills, what muscles?
  5. Learn some about how to host dialogues that matter, which surface grief and joy and possibilities and actions.
  6. Begin to support each other in making the changes we need ourselves, while visible to and connected with each other.
  7. Sensing into what else is possible in each of our lives and in each of our regions.

Of course, this will emerge and shift and change.  It may be something entirely different when Yamamoto-san returns.  But I think the core will remain:  releasing grief while continuing to stand with it. Connecting with each other.  Regaining some measure of authority over our own lives.  Discovering the minimum elegant steps which will allow self-organizing to emerge everywhere, and especially in the Tohoku Region, in Fukushima, at this one shelter for 2000 people whose lives have shifted so dramatically.

Honored to be here in these conversations.  Providing a listening presence and occasionally being able to speak in stories and ideas from Berkana’s work around the world.

Blessings,

Bob

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Stepping Into New Possibilities in Japan

In a week I’ll be headed back to my beloved Japan.  What will I find there?  Community.  Friends and family.  Colleagues. Grief.  Destruction. Possibility. Fear. Hope.  All those and more.  My heart quivers some.  I am almost overwhelmed by all the images and stories that have flooded in over the last two weeks since the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear disasters.  And, I am going to be with my community, with my kindred.  I’m carrying with me learning from the web of The Berkana Institute as I explore questions of what is possible now that was not possible before with my many friends and colleagues.

Over the last two weeks much of my time has been focused on Japan.  Connecting and supporting people, being in many conversations via twitter, facebook, skype, e-mail and even telephone.  Some ideas have been coming into focus that I want to share.  These are written as I see them.  They are based on many conversations and they are still my formulation of what might be helpful.  They are part of my starting point as I go home to Japan.

I see four main domains of work:

Grief and Possibility in the Tohoku Region.  Much has been lost:  25,000 people dead or missing; 500,000 people without homes; businesses, schools  and infrastructure destroyed.

  • This grief must be hosted.  Spaces need to be created which support people in speaking of their grief and loss and disappointment.  A safe space of talking and of listening is needed now.
  • And Tohoku can be re-created, stronger and more resilient than it ever was before.  What is essential is that people in Tohoku are in charge of this re-creation – not government, not NGOs, not well intended forces from outside.  People in Tohoku must come together in new ways to direct this recreation.

A new effort called  Japan Dialog -  is beginning to address these needs and possibilities.

A Wide Field of Possibilities. People around Japan and around the world want to support the people in Tohoku.  Think of this as an eco-system with many parts.  Some have ideas and resources for different community engagement processes.  Others know how to work with the strengths and assets still present in the communities.  Some know of more energy efficient and durable building techniques.  Others know of better ways to grow food sustainably.  These ideas can either be another tsunami that washes over the area, or they can be a rich ecology of possibilities which can support in the rebuilding.  Work is needed which can call this eco-system together.

The work of  Instituto Elos and the Oasis Game from Brazil may provide important tools for working in this area as well as the ABCD approach (Asset Based Community Development).  I’ve assembled some resources for this approach on my Resources Page

A Bridge to the Future. A third domain of work is the work of connecting Tohoku with this wide field of possibilities.  Spaces and places are needed which support this connection between the people in Tohoku and these many possibilities.  This bridge must be wide, solid and flexible, supporting robust dialogue and design which supports people in creating new future possibilities.  The work that the Knowledge Dynamics Initiative at Fuji/Xerox has done to bring Future Centers into Japan will be a foundation for this bridge.

Possibilities

Bridge To Future

Tohoku Tomorrow

New Relationship To Energy. The earthquake came.  The tsunami came.  What stayed was the radiation.  Perhaps there is an opportunity for a new dialogue in Japan about how much energy is needed to live happy lives.  Japan might choose to learn how to live with less.  If that choice were made in Japan, it would be put into action immediately.  Japan might provide critical leadership for the rest of the world on this important issue.  This is a deep dialogue that needs to be hosted well in the coming months.  There are no easy answers – just very important questions.

Who might help?

In many ways Japan is a large country and a very small community.  Over the last year I have had the opportunity to work with many people and organizations who might be, I believe, the key players to work in these four domains.  I know there are many others as well.  Over the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing stories from our work together.

And many, many more.  Japan is ripe for change.  Please visit some of my blogs here from November and December, 2010 to get a sense of the possibilities

And please come visit here from time to time.  I arrive in Japan on April 5th and will be there until the first of June.  I’ll be sharing stories and learning here from time to time.  Please also visit http://bit.ly/dMALkr for a story about Resilience in Japan from the latest Fieldnotes from ALIA — Authentic Leadership in Action.

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Collaboration: Essential Ingredient for Resilience

A new insight emerged – as it usually does – in a conversation between friends.

Bob has been a long time sparring partner for me and so when I was reflecting on a year’s project of co-creating and activating a new collaboration model within our Hub, it was Bob I turned to for his usual provocative questions that tend to elicit a deepening of seeing patterns. It was a particular conversation with Bob that I invited my colleague Alycia of Instigation into that gave rise to an article titled Collaboration: The Courage to Step into a Meaningful Mess. You can read it here; it was just released in the last Berkana Institute newsletter.

However, beyond what we share in this article, I have some (fairly raw) thoughts on how collaboration is an essential ingredient for Resilient Communities, what this site is all about :-)  First of all, with a lot of work in multi-stakeholder situations, I have come to see the importance of relationship for systems change – many people believe that it is the policies & structures that will shift an unhealthy system into a better state, but not without healthy relationships. So, in the act of collaborating and building true relationship – not just superficially working together at the same roundtable – resilience-as-social-glue enters into the system. Something that helps people stay together through the work they need to do. Secondly, and building on that, collaboration builds social capital. By collaborating, we are investing into each other and into something that is joint. By collaborating, we are learning to work with each other as equals, and thus re-investing into our capacity to keep doing that more fluently. This in-builds resilience into a community, a community that wants to continue to be together. Thirdly, collaboration contributes to a transfer of skills and capacities between people working together, or at least an awareness of other skills and perspectives. The more opportunities for learning more, and making more available to each other, the more a collaboration of a few people around a shared goal has the potential to truly become a community over time based on shared experience. The more a community knows about itself and the multitude of talents within it that it can draw on, the more agile and resilient it is in the face of any challenges that might come its way… and/or to take a stand for co-creating the new…

Thanks Bob!

- Tatiana Glad, Engage! InterAct / Hub Amsterdam / Waterlution


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Quaking in Japan

My heart reaches out to Japan wondering what I can do to help.  How do I witness this disaster from a distance in a way that helps to restore community and build more resilience?

Stay connected.  Stay connected.  Stay connected.  Those are the words that dance across my heartmind.  So I tweet and retweet.  I find friends on facebook and sent them support.  I e-mail.  And I share what I am learning through my connections across other networks, inviting us into deeper connection with each other.

This is another of those times when the subtle, or the spiritual, or the non-material is so incredibly important.  It is hard for me to stay focused there.  My eye slides off and I want to do something more active, something that will make more of a difference.  But perhaps it is enough — creating a focus for goodness and kindness.

I watch the news accounts and I check-in with my friends and what I see more than anything else is a wonderful unfolding story of human goodness.  It is still easy to fall to the temptation of “yeah, sure, we know how to work together when tragedy strikes.”  There’s a kind of longing in that statement, a regret.  But I have to say I am in awe when I see the extent of human goodness.  When I remember that it is our natural state, our way of being.  Our deep human goodness steps forward in times like these. We know how to connect and support each other and ourselves.

Of course we need to bring more of this into our daily lives.  I suspect we’ll get more and more practice in the coming years.  So I hear these stories of the goodness and ordinariness of life from my friends (via twitter):

  • We’re OK. Helping each other with sharing room for rest and sharing tips. After few min, Morning will come!
  • I and my families/friends are safe and sound. I walked back to home from the office last night. took me 5hours.
  • Many people had stayed at office or council center in tokyo. Train started running.
  • I’m OK. My family,too. And my younger sister had a baby last night! I’m happy and keeping praying everybody’s safe in this situation.
  • My family and I are all fine. I was in Hokkaido, and just cannot go back… But I think I can tomorrow.
  • I couldn’t contact my parents for seven hours. They are safe and back home.All family are fine. Thank you.
  • Now we are projecting a virtue of the Japanese that we have consideration for other people!!
  • We are in Tochigi Pref, stayed one night since stopped express train heading for Tokyo. a bit closed to North Japan.
  • We’re all ok. It’s amazing how calm and caring people are in many places even after such a disaster. Proud to be a Japanese!

We’re okay.  Helping each other.  Proud to be Japanese.  These are my friends and I love them.  AND they are just ordinary people.  Ordinary people discovering how to get along and how to help each other.  Ordinary people discovering how to take the next minimum step.  We know how to do this.  We know how to help each other.  We know how to be community.

Frequently we forget.  We get trapped inside our own little worries about being sufficient, or having enough. We build walls of protection which isolate us from each other.  When I am in Johannesburg from time to time, I see the literal walls — high, topped with broken glass or barbed-wire.  Intended to keep danger out.  And, of course, when danger comes in as it does from time to time, the walls isolate us from our closest neighbors who don’t know help is needed.

Disasters like the quakes in Japan and New Zealand reconnect us with our selves.  They help us remember what it is to be human.  A scene from Chris Bache’s book Dark Night, Early Dawn had stayed with me for many years.  He speak of a vision of people emerging from shelters, underground, in a time of vast devastation.  They rise from the rubble, look around and see who else has survived, and begin to connect again to make community and to continue our human journey.  These are the capacities which will sustain us in the times ahead and which we need to be cultivating now.

Let’s find the ways to invite human goodness and connection forward without these obvious disasters!

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Kyoto Autumn!

IMG_0085 IMG_0084 IMG_0083 IMG_0082 IMG_0081 IMG_0080 IMG_0079 IMG_0078 IMG_0077 IMG_0076 IMG_0075 IMG_0074 DSCF0374 DSCF0371 DSCF0364 DSCF0362 DSCF0360 DSCF0359 DSCF0358 DSCF0357

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Reflecting Kiyosato Art of Hosting

We met a couple of nights ago in Tokyo to reflect on the recent Art of Hosting in Kiyosato (see earlier blog).  After almost four months of work here this year, I still am surprised.  What brings 22 people out for five hours on a cold weekday night to reflect on their learning together a month earlier?  What kind of commitment to each other and to learning is represented here?

The walls were lined with the graphic recording from the Art of Hosting.  On the floor there was a series of pictures of people and scenes from the Art of Hosting which were sequenced with the graphic recording.  The Art of Hosting was present in the room with us.  We began in a circle with a check-in:  what are we each bringing here with us tonight?  Then there we walked around the room and remembered.  Yuya gave a bit of a walking through of the three days to help make it more vivid.  We each picked one or two pictures from the floor which helped us access a particular memory.  In silence we returned to the circle and wrote a bit about our memories.  Then we formed groups of two of three to share impressions and learning.  I was asked to share some of my reflections and learning with the group.

After a short break, we moved into open space.  Fascinating topics:

  1. How can we make it easier for new people to enter AoH easily?
  2. What are the next steps for this Art of Hosting community?
  3. What makes the difference between surface dialogue and being able to go deep?
  4. What is the deep hosting of the whole field of an Art of Hosting practice event?
  5. What changed for each of us after the AoH?
  6. Afterall, what did you get from it?
  7. What’s the “difference in temperature?” Some got hot, with lots of energy, some didn’t.  What’s the difference?
  8. What is the “art” of Art of Hosting?
  9. The circle has a particular power; different energy.  What is it?
  10. Some people participated 100%, other less.  What makes a difference?

I went to the first round session on deep hosting of the entire field, because that was where my main learning and interest was — things I wrote about in my earlier blog on Kiyosato.  After checking in, people — with a little bit of hesitation — asked me to speak more about my experience.  What I said — my own self-examination of what I felt I didn’t do well — opened a space for others.  I learned later from some people that there is not much of a practice in Japan around talking directly about what didn’t work.  People felt refreshed by the possibility of having this conversation.  Personally, I really appreciated being able to talk about it face-to-face.  So we talked about how there were “too many moving parts” this time; about how we all were too busy.  Some talked about how they missed the fact that the larger hosting team was not meeting — but didn’t know what to do.  What was missing, we asked.  In the end, we concluded that what was missing as a simple and clear agreement that we would prioritize meeting with each other every day to share learning and discuss next steps.  Not a long and complicated meeting — but a swift and clear checking in.  We realized that any of us could have called for such a meeting this last time — but we were all swept away by what was going on.

Almost all of us noticed it was missing.  Satoko talked about how on the last day she stepped in and changed the design of what we were doing.  She recalled that I came up to her afterward and said both that I was completely surprised and deeply appreciative of what she had done.  She talked about knowing she had to do it, but how she trembled because she was doing it alone, with no collective at her back.  It was a rich and deep conversation.  In fact, like other conversations from the first round of open space, we ran the full length of the hour for open space.  We had to much to say and too much to listed to.

There was rich and powerful learning for each of us in this conversation.  I commented on how I’ve stopped beating myself up for what I regarded as my failures during the event.  What we didn’t talk about is how rich the learning was because of what didn’t happen.  That learning would, of course, have been minimized and held in very different ways if we had not taken the time for this reflection session.  So that simple message again — when we’re engaged in new work, it is essential to pause and reflect on what we’ve done as we find our next step forward.  It is no big deal.  It is not complicated.  It does not require a lot of design.  And it has to happen if we are to harvest learning and see what comes next.

This session was a powerful one for me.  I’m very grateful.  Whatever feelings I was still carrying which focused on what I didn’t do were transformed into an appreciation of the collective and into a know that we all, together, can do a better job the next time around.

Many blessings!

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Always Remember to Host the Whole!

Like a trip down a water slide, the Art of Hosting at Kiyosato, Japan began and then, quickly, was complete.  Whew!

Our second one this year.  This time the hosting team from outside Japan was Toke Moeller from Denmark, Susan Virnig, Bob Wing and Bob Stilger from the US, along with Annie Virnig from the US as an apprentice. Kiyosato is such a beautiful place.  Wonderful people, excellent food.  And, well, it’s not hard to find beauty when Mt. Fuji looks on from the nearby horizon.

And so many difference from May.  I write about some of those, and then share some about my most important learning.

We knew that we had a different group of participants than in May.  Generally younger and will less experience.  We knew they would come with a strong appetite for learning.  We also had a different hosting team.  We’d asked Bob Wing and Toke to join for many reasons; one was to bring more movement in.  And we did!

We also made a challenging decision to dive right in, going for disruption of habitual ways of thinking and a bit of confusion as a place to start.  We may have gotten more disruption and confusion than we planned on!  Looking back (the Art of Hosting Workshop was November 19-21 and I’m just getting around to writing now), I think we had a bit too much “vocabulary” in this AoH.  Vocabulary is a term I’ve started using more and more after work with Arawana Hayashi earlier this year.  It’s causing me to pay attention to the number of new constructs, concepts, and words I am introducing.  They all come together under the term vocabulary.  We may have had a bit too much in a three day session with two languages in play at all times.

Still, it was a sacred space. People were moved.  They left with more questions and more clarity about their work in the world.  They left knowing more about how to host conversations that matter and how to design dialogue events.  They left with deeper relationships with each other.  A community is growing here in Japan.  It’s a community of people finding their way into their work to make a difference in the world.  And a community learning how to relate to each other.

And it went a bit too fast with too many moving parts.  In addition to our normal work with circles, world cafe, open space, silence, clay, we brought in much more work with movement.  We also added in learning teams around harvesting and movement.  We brought a new form — ProAction Cafe — in and built a hosting chance around it.  We had the normal hosting chances for Opening Circles and Closing Circles and World Cafe and Open Space.  We also began, but didn’t really effectively integrate a Japanese Hosting Team with the Non-Japanese Hosting Team.

This is actually pretty hard and delicate work!  There’s a richness is working in both Japanese and English — and it requires a lot of time and effort.  There is a richness is bringing together new hosting teams that have not worked together before (as was the case in our non-Japanese team) and there are challenges.  And, of course, all of this work in Japan that is going on under the name “Art of Hosting” is only ten months old and it is moving from being a network to becoming a community.  So lots was happening.

But I need to talk about what was missing — which is the territory of my deepest learning.  We, and especially I, did not hold the center well.  It began with not making sure that our core team — five non-Japanese and one Japanese — were present for our whole design day before the AoH began.  I think I didn’t fully appreciate the complexity of weaving in what Bob Wing and Toke would bring, nor the complexity of working more fully with a Japanese hosting team.  So, even as we started, we were behind!

In retrospect, in my ideal world, here’s what would have happened:  Annie, Susan and I would have had at least a short family check-in each day.  The three of us, plus Toke, Bob Wing and Yuya plus a translator would have been having a core hosting team check-in each day.  Some of the core hosting team would have been meeting and checking-in with the Japanese hosting team each day.  On the first day, we did all of this except the family check-in.  On the second and third days, we were all flying fast and none of these center meetings happened.

The result was “raggedness.”  We were all rushing.  There was too much confusion.  The flow was not smooth.  We probably could not have had all the moving parts AND do this level of conscious hosting of the center.  I’d gladly sacrifice some of the parts in order to maintain more clarity at the core.  The day after the AoH, Bob Wing and I were talking and he commented on how centered I seemed throughout all the days.  I mentioned my growing clarity about what a poor job I had done in hosting the core of the system.  Bob had an insight which went something like this “ah, yes, I see it.  If the core had been being hosted well, then I would have know where and how to fit in.  As it was, by the last day I felt like I was just running.”

So the learning is clear.  The core, the center, the innermost circle must be held well.  When it is held consciously, deliberately, with kindness and compassion. Its strength stabilizes the entire system and allow for deeper flow and greater learning.  When things begin to get crazy, return to the work of the core.  let go of some of the parts.

There are lots of different reasons for why I got lost.  And I got lost.  I forgot that my most important responsibility and my biggest opportunity was to host the whole by hosting the core.  I am particularly aware of how the Japanese hosting team was left in the dark.  Certainly, they were all involved in one or more of the moving parts, but they were not involved in the whole in a way which increases their capacity to offer these kind of events.

It’s all learning.  It’s all practice.  And I know I will make the space to be more attentive the next time around!  It is a joy to be able to do this work in Japan.

Many pictures:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/49166333@N07/sets/72157625392945259/

December 3, 2010

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Tadaima!

That’s what is said in Japan when one returns home.  “I’m back, I’ve been out in the world and I am back.”  ただいま. And that is exactly how I felt this past weekend will leading a workshop in Japan.  This blog is both a bit about my personal journey and my amazing week in Japan.

My relationship with Japan began in 1970.  I “escaped” to Japan when the U.S. invaded Cambodia and the National Guard murdered four students at Kent State University.  I was finishing my Junior year at Carleton College in Northfield, Minnesota, USA and was active in the student movement and the anti-war movement and on the fringes of the civil-rights, womens and environmental movements.  I left the U.S. with a combination of deep anger and deep grief that was characteristic of those times.

About the only thing I knew about Japan was that it was near China.  But once again my guardian angels were on duty and pushed me where I needed to go.  I began my own spiritual journey in Japan in 1970.  The culture and my host family have been part of my life ever since.  I met the grandfather of my heart in Kyoto.  He was 71 and I was 21.  For forty years our families have been intertwined.  His son is the only grandfather my daughter, Annie has ever know and her time with her ogii-chama and obaa-chama are special.  Japan has always been a place of my heart and spirit and I’ve never been inclined to take my work there.  That all has shifted, dramatically.

Last November at the Pegasus Systems Thinking In Action I was amazed to see 25 or so people from Japan.  Normally there are just several.  I wondered:  “what’s happening?”  I discovered that a lot was happening.  Over the last couple of years there has been a tremendous opening, a search for new ways of being in life and in work in the world.  People are working with systems thinking, Presencing, World Cafe, Appreciative Inquiry and a host of other processes to see what else is possible.  They have not only embraced these methodologies, they have created a huge new opening for new ways of thinking and being.  And in Japan, when something begins, it moves quickly!

Conversations quickly evolved into an invitation to The Berkana Institute to put together an Art of Hosting.  My sense was that it would be important to precede this Art of Hosting with a design session which ended up evolving into a workshop which incorporated different elements of Art of Hosting and my own work on the Art of Change.  The two day workshop was followed by an evening of Dialogue Bar which was astounding in its own right.

I was amazed and deeply moved by the two events.

The weekend workshop  with 20 people in a workshop was a combination of Bob, Enspirited Leadership, Art of Hosting Sampler and Art of Change Sampler all rolled into one.  We met in circle and open space and world cafe.  We walked the “two loops” together.  We walked in silent pairs and in dialogue pairs.  We modeled with clay.  And the clay was so loved that it became a part of the rest of the world cafe sessions as well.  By Sunday morning the design and hosting team space was opened and we designed the second day together and much of the hosting was done  by the participants.

Monday night was “Dialogue Bar”.  More than 100 people from all walks of life and all ages came for what ended up being a 4 hour dialogue bar.  The atmosphere was incredible.  I spent 10 minutes speaking (and 10 being translated) to give glimpses of my life until 2000.  We began the first round of World Cafe with a question:  “what social innovation makes enough of a difference to make a difference?”  After 30 minutes, we did a brief harvest, and I spoke for another 20 (plus 20 for translation) about my journey of the last 10 years and about Enspirited Leadership.  Yuya, the organizer asked for my personal story as a weave and context for the World Cafe.  After I spoke a second time, we had two more rounds of cafe.

The response in both events was powerful.

How to explain it?  You know that Japanese know how to be silent with each other.  They know how to listen to each other with their whole bodies and to hear far beyond the words.  They know how to be respectful.  They know how to find questions.  AND, there is an expression in Japan:  “the nail that sticks up is pounded down.” Edward Hall speaks of Japan culture as being the most “high context” culture on the planet.  But what does this mean?  My friend Jeff in Kyoto, who has lived there now for 40 years (longer than any other living foreigner)  points out that even in Japan, high context is translated simply as “high context.”  What does it mean?  It means Japanese take in everything with their listening.  That is the cultural competence.  AND, the nail that sticks up is pounded down.

How does one continue to listen with one’s whole being AND, stick up, stand up, find courage and clarity to offer one’s leadership in a time of immense change?  This is the question that Japan is ready for and it has been cracking wide open for the last two years.  That is why there were 25 people from Japan at the Pegasus Systems Thinking In Action Conference this past November where there have been 4 or 5 in the past.

I’ll be back for some work in May and suspect I will be returning more frequently.  Since I first arrived in Japan in 1970, it has been a place of my heart and spirit.  In the early years, I wondered why I never tried to bring my work there.  Later, in this past decade, I realized it was my “upbringing” in Japan that allowed me to travel into and with other cultures.  Now, it seems that work around the world has left me with something special to offer in Japan and it feels wonderful!

It is a time of change, and I am interested in the parallels to the Meiji Restoration of 1868 when 250 years of rule by the Tokugawa Shogunate came to an end, rapidly.  I did my undergraduate comprehensive project on it 39 years ago.  What I saw happening then was that the underlying mythic structures of the culture were no longer sufficient to interpret daily experience and they were washed away in an almost bloodless revolution.  Extraordinarily different than the French Revolution or the later Russian Revolution.  I suspect a similar thing is beginning to happen now.

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