Global Summit of Future Centers
December 2, 2010 By
They came from all around the world. Fifty from Japan, twenty from Israel, Denmark, the Netherlands, UK, Italy, China, Hong Kong, Malaysia and Taiwan. An amazing production across culture. 
They came to the lovely space of Fuji-Xerox’s Knowledge Dynamics Initiative (KDI) which organized and hosted the summit with support from The Future Centers Association. Low budget, lots of volunteer time, people made their way to Roppongi, Tokyo’s most international district, for three days. KDI itself is pretty amazing and I’ve written other blogs about them. They are working across Japan to help businesses use the Future Center concept which has been developing in Europe over the last ten year. In many ways, Japan is developing Future Center 2.0 — spaces which are dynamic, flexible, inexpensive and in which the dialogue that leads to innovation can occur.
In many ways the Summit itself was an experiment. How can we bring together a large group of people from all around the world and work from a place of curiosity, friendship and respect? How can we do extensive work in small groups with only two trained translators? How do we create an atmosphere of trust and cooperation and inquiry where everyone feels respected? How do we balance western communication styles which are based on talking with Japanese styles which are based on listening?
It was a challenge. Even though I helped to create the design and coached the many “hosting teams” from Japan, I had lots of reservations about the design. It felt like too much talking. On the first two days, it seemed like we were frequently caught in the one-way communication of presentations and my own design purity was offended. But it came together with an incredible amount of energy by the end of our time.
It’s always challenging to design and host for people who design and host. I have my own deep beliefs about the importance of peer learning and deep dialogue and discussion. I’m pretty allergic to designs which put one person in the front of the room, or even those which put three people in the front of three groups. AND, perhaps I was wrong. In spite of my own reservations about the design, people were engaged. Might they have been more engaged? Perhaps. But with the limited amount of translation available and the western need to talk in order to be present and the Japanese need to listen quietly, perhaps it was just right. Collective design is always a challenge, especially with a design team that has never worked together before and comes from varied backgrounds. But somehow, we made it work.
We brought movement in at various times each day to help people engage more than their heads. 
One of the most moving was a 30 minute silent walk in downtown Tokyo at the beginning of rush hour. Quietly people assembled and left the 15th floor, braved Tokyo traffic, headed into a sky walk system and eventually came to a large open courtyard. There was one rule — no talking. At first I thought we should have had a second rule — no cameras — but slowly the cameras disappeared into pockets and people stood and walked around the courtyard in silence. When we returned to our meeting room — still in silence — there was a complete shift in the energy. People felt more centered, deepened. From that place of silence people worked in their “home groups” (a technique used to help people form deeper relations with a few people) to create a sculpture using things from their pockets of what they saw as possible now that had been invisible before.
Quiet, intense work to end two days of learning and exploring different possibilities. On the third day we went to one of Japan’s ancient capitals – Kamakura. Picture this. Seventy people in a zen temple doing za-zen as a way to further deepen and enter a place of presence — Complete with whacks when requested from the walking zen priests. Quieting. Letting the feast of the first two days settle. 
Then, in the afternoon, we made our way to another unexpected place — a Noh Theater. Noh has become less accessible in Japan during the modern era, so the actors at this one Noh Theatre have embarked on a new path. They offer a two hour lecture with about 40 minutes of performance embedded to give people a sense of this powerful drama. The theatre itself is a powerful BA. Participants were invited to journey further into themselves. After two hours of Noh, we began the closing of the Summit. What had people learned, what would they carry forward, what would they do next. Let’s be clear, Noh Theater’s are not designed for conversation. It is awkward to turn around the converse with others in the rows behind. Talking to the person in the next seat is problematic as well. But the BA was so powerful, we wanted to stay there and work with the more energy of the day. The quiet 
focus was incredible. People settled down and in. Plans for individual action and collective support began to emerge. In just two hours, the work of three days was pulled together with a number of heartfelt commitments for next steps. Among other things, the folks from Israel have volunteered to host the next Global Summit!
It was an amazing three days. I had my doubts. And I think I was proved wrong. What we did worked and there was an amazing feeling of connection and mutual support. The people from Japan left feeling validated and supported in the work they have begun this year. Everyone left with a renewed spirit. Good work all the way around!
A few more pictures: http://www.flickr.com/photos/49166333@N07/sets/72157625512214666
December 2, 2010
Global Summit of Future Centers
December 2, 2010 By
They came from all around the world. Fifty from Japan, twenty from Israel, Denmark, the Netherlands, UK, Italy, China, Hong Kong, Malaysia and Taiwan. An amazing production across culture. They came to the lovely space of Fuji-Xerox’s Knowledge Dynamics Initiative (KDI) which organized and hosted the summit with support from The Future Centers Association. Low budget, lots of volunteer time, people made their way to Roppongi, Tokyo’s most international district, for three days. KDI itself is pretty amazing and I’ve written other blogs about them. They are working across Japan to help businesses use the Future Center concept which has been developing in Europe over the last ten year. In many ways, Japan is developing Future Center 2.0 — spaces which are dynamic, flexible, inexpensive and in which the dialogue that leads to innovation can occur.
In many ways the Summit itself was an experiment. How can we bring together a large group of people from all around the world and work from a place of curiosity, friendship and respect? How can we do extensive work in small groups with only two trained translators? How do we create an atmosphere of trust and cooperation and inquiry where everyone feels respected? How do we balance western communication styles which are based on talking with Japanese styles which are based on listening?
It was a challenge. Even though I helped to create the design and coached the many “hosting teams” from Japan, I had lots of reservations about the design. It felt like too much talking. On the first two days, it seemed like we were frequently caught in the one-way communication of presentations and my own design purity was offended. But it came together with an incredible amount of energy by the end of our time.
It’s always challenging to design and host for people who design and host. I have my own deep beliefs about the importance of peer learning and deep dialogue and discussion. I’m pretty allergic to designs which put one person in the front of the room, or even those which put three people in the front of three groups. AND, perhaps I was wrong. In spite of my own reservations about the design, people were engaged. Might they have been more engaged? Perhaps. But with the limited amount of translation available and the western need to talk in order to be present and the Japanese need to listen quietly, perhaps it was just right. Collective design is always a challenge, especially with a design team that has never worked together before and comes from varied backgrounds. But somehow, we made it work.
We brought movement in at various times each day to help people engage more than their heads. One of the most moving was a 30 minute silent walk in downtown Tokyo at the beginning of rush hour. Quietly people assembled and left the 15th floor, braved Tokyo traffic, headed into a sky walk system and eventually came to a large open courtyard. There was one rule — no talking. At first I thought we should have had a second rule — no cameras — but slowly the cameras disappeared into pockets and people stood and walked around the courtyard in silence. When we returned to our meeting room — still in silence — there was a complete shift in the energy. People felt more centered, deepened. From that place of silence people worked in their “home groups” (a technique used to help people form deeper relations with a few people) to create a sculpture using things from their pockets of what they saw as possible now that had been invisible before.
Quiet, intense work to end two days of learning and exploring different possibilities. On the third day we went to one of Japan’s ancient capitals – Kamakura. Picture this. Seventy people in a zen temple doing za-zen as a way to further deepen and enter a place of presence — Complete with whacks when requested from the walking zen priests. Quieting. Letting the feast of the first two days settle.
Then, in the afternoon, we made our way to another unexpected place — a Noh Theater. Noh has become less accessible in Japan during the modern era, so the actors at this one Noh Theatre have embarked on a new path. They offer a two hour lecture with about 40 minutes of performance embedded to give people a sense of this powerful drama. The theatre itself is a powerful BA. Participants were invited to journey further into themselves. After two hours of Noh, we began the closing of the Summit. What had people learned, what would they carry forward, what would they do next. Let’s be clear, Noh Theater’s are not designed for conversation. It is awkward to turn around the converse with others in the rows behind. Talking to the person in the next seat is problematic as well. But the BA was so powerful, we wanted to stay there and work with the more energy of the day. The quiet focus was incredible. People settled down and in. Plans for individual action and collective support began to emerge. In just two hours, the work of three days was pulled together with a number of heartfelt commitments for next steps. Among other things, the folks from Israel have volunteered to host the next Global Summit!
It was an amazing three days. I had my doubts. And I think I was proved wrong. What we did worked and there was an amazing feeling of connection and mutual support. The people from Japan left feeling validated and supported in the work they have begun this year. Everyone left with a renewed spirit. Good work all the way around!
A few more pictures: http://www.flickr.com/photos/49166333@N07/sets/72157625512214666
December 2, 2010
A New Zimbabwe Emerging
November 15, 2009 By
I arrived in Zimbabwe several days ago, my first visit this year. Since before Kufunda Learning Village was a glimmer in the heartmind of its founder, I have been journeying here. When people ask what I do at and with Kufunda it is often with a typical assumption of people in the global north that I am coming here to teach them something. I come here to learn. Of course, this dichotomy between learning and teaching is a false one. But mostly, I come to listen. To witness. To ask questions. To be present to the changes taking place at Kufunda and in Zimbabwe. I also come to connect Kufunda with others around the world — calling forth connections and relationships which help us all learn.
I first visited Zimbabwe in 2001 and have been witness to many years of things falling apart. Everything I’ve thought I knew or understood about collapse have been challenged. Each collapse is unique. Perhaps the only common thread is that times of collapse are a call for resilience. In some ways the country “hit bottom” last year. Some progress has been made since then, but for people who feel like they are at the end of their rope, it is slow and agonizing.
I came here aware of the pain and agony some were feeling. It wasn’t until I arrived that I also felt how strong the winds of shift are as well. So it is all present at the same time — agonizing stuckness, emerging creativity, willingness to change. When you’re stuck, what do you do? I was thinking this morning about cross country skiing on groomed trails (perhaps an odd thought since the daily temperatures here are in the 90s). When I’m skiing and see a crash coming, it is almost impossible for me to remember to simply lift my ski out of the track, and to take it from there. That first step, lifting out of the current track, can be so darn hard.
At Kufunda the need to do so is clear. The structure and processes which brought Kufunda to where it is today cannot continue. Among other things, the global economic crisis has shown up here in the form of fewer donor dollars. But even beyond that, it is clear that changes are needed. Kufundees have been able to spend a lot of time over the last five years learning how to host processes which help them develop deep relationships with each other. They have learned how to do permaculture. They have learned how to build with local materials and how to move towards zero-waste. They have learned how to use herbs for healing. They have learned how to share knowledge with surrounding communities and are beginning to learn how to help those communities reach out to others. Everything from bee-keeping to “arbor-loos” are part of the culture. There are many pieces in place and part of the work over the last several days has been looking at how to shift those pieces into a more productive overall pattern.
One of the questions I’ve had for years is about how Kufunda reaches out beyond the six communities it has ben working with since 2003. Even that is more clear. It does it through partnerships. For example, one of the friends of Kufunda founded something called “Tree of Life.” It is a process which works with victims of torture to help them heal. It is a powerful process led by the former victims themselves. Once people in villages are more healed, what next? Perhaps a partnership with Kufunda provides part of that answer — Kufunda can come in and help them remember ways of being a healthy village again.
Enough for now. Lot’s happening and I’ll be writing more!
Powers of Place
August 25, 2009 By
One of the initiatives I’m currently working on is Powers of Place, developed by Sheryl Erickson, Renee Levi and a host of others with funding from the Fetzer Institute.
The Powers of Place Initiative is a partnership of individuals, organizations and sites catalyzing a new field of study and practice based on the premise that right relationship between people and the places they gather offers the potential for transformative action toward what is needed at this moment in history.
Our work includes:
- Creating and supporting an international network of networks dedicated to the mission of the Initiative
- Conducting seminal research and developing theory
- Producing and distributing educational and outreach materials to support the work of people from a variety of disciplines and perspectives
- A core assumption we’re working with is that the powers of place and our relationship with it, influences a group’s capacity to engage in transformative life affirming action
A calling question for our work is what becomes possible when we are in intentional relationship with the powers of place?
One of the early images we’ve used to guide our work is this:
You can get an overview in our introduction Powers of Place Introduction.
What I’m most interested in is how we use the power of place to increase our individual and collective resilience to navigate in these times. Whew — big words.
When I look out at the channel from Cortes Island at the northern tip of British Columbia’s Gulf Islands, I begin to settle. I begin to calm down. The same thing happens to me when I walk the trails of Windhorse Farms in Nova Scotia. Or when I watch a sunset from the big rocks of Kufunda in Zimbabwe. These places vibrate in my being and help me return to who I am.
While I was on Cortes earlier this week, at Hollyhock, I began thinking about Christopher Alexander’s A Timeless Way of Building where he develops the fundamentals of Pattern Langauge. He talks about how when we come into a room we know if it is alive. He goes on to speak of how it isn’t simply the existence of doors and windows and walls, but their relationship to each other. Thinking of this, I stood on the Hollyhock deck looking out at the islands in the foreground and mountains in the distance, with water closeby, and I started wondering if there are particular geographic features which begin to make some places seem more alive.
What’s the mixture here? How does the fundamental pattern of Hollyhock contribute to its aliveness? How much of the good energy of so many people who have been there contributes? And what of my own good memories of being there over many years? Why is it that I settle more easily and more quickly there than when walking the streets of downtown Seattle?
