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"It's not so much that we're afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it's the place in between that we fear ... it's like being in between trapezes. It's like Linus when his blanket is in the dryer. There's nothing to hold on to."
Marilyn Ferguson

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Good morning from a clear and cold west coast of Canada. The fire place is lit, and its warmth is spreading slowly but surely across the room. I hope there is such warmth literally and metaphorically in your life today.

I don’t know about you, but I found the election in the United States this week to be not only great television (I watched the CBC coverage) but a fascinating exploration of leadership lessons. One in particular struck me as I listened to one of the guest commentators on the CBC. She was a Republican and was intelligent and articulate. She was quite clear that her party had been ‘hijacked’ by a special interest group; a group of white, middle and upper class men who listened only to themselves and as such had fooled themselves into believing their own press. They appeared to assume that their idea of common sense was in fact “common.”  (For a journalist’s take on this please check out http://www.cbc.ca/news/world/story/2012/11/07/f-rfa-macdonald-hopey-changey.html)

The crash of the hopes of many in the Republican party is due, at least in part to their refusal to attend to the ‘other.’ Yes, when people give you feedback, they may be incorrect. And, they may in fact be correct, and to simply dismiss the ‘other’ as ignorant, or worse ‘stupid,’ is, as we all witnessed on Tuesday night, not a good strategy, to say the least. A leaders, in politics, in business, in not-for-profits, one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves and our teams is, what are our detractors saying, and what might we learn from them, about us?

Some years ago, doing work with a board, one of the comments I heard from a participant as I finished up was “lots of sizzle, but no steak.” Now, this particular character had in fact been rather disruptive in the session, challenging me on some very arcane points, and interestingly, I had been warned about him by the client contact. I was at first very tempted to ignore his remark, especially as it was behind my back. And the more I thought about it, I realized that he did have a point. At that stage in my development as a facilitator and leader I did in fact put too much emphasis on my ability to make people laugh, and to have fun while learning. All admirable and important aspects of my work. And I began to see that for some, there was a “lot of sizzle but no steak.” And so, I began to dramatically increase the amount of  business and governance literature I not only read, but also included in my presentations; I referenced people who agreed with me, and those who had a different take. I welcomed respectful conflict into the meeting rooms I worked, moving a little away from the “fun” that had been so much of my ‘brand’ to that point in time. And my credibility increased dramatically. Some years later at a national conference I had two CEOs approach me separately after a presentation I had made. They both said, “I may not always agree with your point of view, but I am very glad you do what you do.” Probably the greatest compliments about my work I’ve ever received. And so I thank that character from those years ago. He was my ‘other’ and I couldn’t do what I do without him.

May we each have such encounters in our work.

Good morning from a rainy and cold downtown Toronto. I’m here for meetings and workshops and am glad, quite frankly, of the fireplace in the lobby of my hotel as I write. Yesterday I was facilitating a workshop with a wonderful psychometric tool called DiSC with a group of colleagues. It was a great day. Early in the workshop we explored a very interesting image, called the Judgment to Value ladder. It is a simple but powerful image about how we most often behave with other people.

At the bottom of this ladder is “Judging”. Our initial response to people we don’t know is rooted at the very back of our brains, the “lizard brain” at the top of our spinal column. We look at the person and judge, first, “friend or foe” and then how they fit into the hierarchy of our community. So for example, if someone cuts you off in traffic, we don’t take a lot of time to try and work out why they did that,  we immediately judge them as foe, and our responses to them are filled with anger and blustering threats. Or we might look at how they are dressed and fit them into our preconceived groupings of where people are in our hierarchies; consider for example your response to people’s clothes and what judgements we make about everything from their shoes to their accessories. I recall an old friend showing up at my nephew’s Bar Mitzvah in a suit jacket, tee shirt, cargo shorts and ankle boots. The gaggle of wealthy 12 and 13 year olds were snickering behind his back because he was so “obviously” out of touch with their understanding of reality.

As leaders we know that we cannot run an organization simply on such judgements. The subsequent levels on the ladder lead us progressively to stronger relationships. One rung up from judgement is “understanding” where I gain some insight into why a person might have cut me off in traffic (swerving because of another driver for example.) Or I might see their choice of clothes not as a sign of a particular economic status, rather as a political statement. The young people at the Bar Mitzvah had no idea that our friend was actually a famous artist whose work hangs in hotel lobbies and large family homes around the world. I understood, because I had known him since were 10 years old that  he was wearing what he was wearing precisely because he was going to be surrounded by very wealthy people with matching belts and shoes and he wanted to push back against that. And that leads to the next two rungs, the first, “appreciating” and then “respecting”. There will be those of us who get stuck in our judgement, even if we do understand where the other person is coming from, but strong relationships are built when we can appreciate and even respect that our old friend is an artist through and through, and may revel in pushing back against the norm. And finally, we can find ourselves in fact “valuing” the person’s strength, courage and position, even if we ourselves would do it differently. And it is out of such valuing that truly strong relationships are built.

Good afternoon! I trust that today’s adventures are keeping you engaged and having fun in your work today.

I had the great honour of hearing the Canadian philosopher John Raulston Saul speak at an event on the weekend. In the session, he spoke of the importance of governance, and most especially what he called ‘honourable governance’. Now he was speaking here of political governance; that is, how we as a nation are governed. Most such governance he noted held “efficiency” as paramount. For example, the often asserted idea that government needs to be as efficient as business in order to be considered good government. Saul argued, quite convincingly actually, that efficiency was not paramount in political governance, much more important was ‘honour’. That is that I as a citizen need to believe that the government will be trustworthy and therefore honourable. Even if I disagree with a decision the government makes, I need to know that they made the best decision they could, that they worked through a duly diligent process, and that our common humanity was considered.

Now, as tempted as I am to go on a little rant here about “honourable governance” as the second of the Presidential debates is about to occur this evening, I’d much rather ask about the place of such “honourable governance” in our lives and work as leaders? I suggest, as leaders, trust, rather than efficiency is paramount in our work. Not to say that efficiency is not vital, rather that when working with people, we are only as good as our word. We are only as good as  our last decision; was it the best decision could make at the time, was there a duly diligent process and did we consider the common humanity of all concerned? If we can answer yes to those questions, we will find that the people with whom we work are more likely to continue to choose to work with us; and that will mean we are more consistently successful. I wonder what you think?
 

My friend and colleague Chris Dierkes was preaching yesterday http://www.cathedral.vancouver.bc.ca/news-sermons-resources/  referencing Tolkien’s The Silmarillion.  Chris triggered a thought for me using Tolkien’s metaphor of music as the sound of the universe; in short that the universe, and quite frankly, our teams and organizations, are at their best when there is balance, even harmony.

That is different, categorically, from unison. Harmony is a series of different notes that sound simultaneously in relation to each other, and because of this relationship they “sound” balanced. So for example, if at a piano you play ‘c’, ‘e’ and ‘g’ at the same time, you’ll hear a ‘c ‘ major chord, and the notes will ‘fit.’ You could even play  ‘c’, ‘e flat’, and ‘g’ and you’ll hear a ‘c’ minor chord. The notes will still fit and there will be a different ‘feel’ to the sound.  Choirs are an example of harmony, with sopranos, altos, tenors and basses, all singing their own notes but creating these harmonic chord sounds. And great guitarists, Joni Mitchell and Keith Richards are but two examples, will sometimes tune their guitars differently to play with the sounds of the resulting new chords and even ‘dis-chords’. The sinister guitar sound in the Rolling Stones “Gimme Shelter” is an example. (In concerts watch the ‘guitar tech’ bring a new guitar to some performers for the next song, it’s not that the first guitar is broken, it’s very possible that the new guitar is tuned differently.)

So as leaders, we might consider, what are the harmonics of our team? Are there people who are not only singing too loudly, but may be out of tune? Are there voices that are singing too softly, or even not at all? Or are there times when ‘dis-chord’ may be the best, especially as we’re learning new songs.
  
May this week be a week of harmony for each of us.

Good morning gentle readers. The turning of Fall has begun here on the west coast. The last few days of brilliant sunshine have been tempered by early morning fog that has taken a while to burn off. Rain returns to us by the weekend. And so as the seasons turn, so do our lives. I’ve been struck recently how old wounds can be opened, wounds though long healed suddenly resurface and the heart can break all over again. What the psychologists call “complexes” can be triggered and take us for a ride once more. For example, in a working relationship, a perceived betrayal might hit us very hard if we have experienced betrayal on a personal level in the past. Our response to the present act or omission may well be filled with emotional connections that are rooted in the previous betrayal in a very complex manner.

The bad news is that we actually have no control over the feelings; they are what they are, and we ride the wave they create. The good news is that we can ride the wave consciously, if we work at it. If you find yourself having a strong emotional response to behaviour in the work place ask yourself some questions;

1. Where have I had this emotional response before?
2. What is similar between the situation then and the situation now?
3. What were the lessons I learned back then, and how are they applicable now?
4. What is the most helpful (for all concerned) response to this situation?

A conscious and healthy response in the midst of a complex emotional reaction will be respected and remembered. And you’ll feel a lot better for it. Even as the seasons turn.

May this week one of conscious response for each of us.

I’m a big fan of Margaret Wheatley http://margaretwheatley.com/ Her work has come up in two conversations in the past few days and, as I always (?) pay attention to the universe, it makes some sense for some reflection riffing on her work.

One of Meg’s recent contributions to leadership development is the idea of the importance of palliative care competencies. The model says that every organism and every organization follow a life cycle; there is birth, growth, flowering, decline and death. And one of the great frustrations in our time and civilization is that we aren’t really good with decline and death. As someone who has sat with a significant number of dying people in my time, I have seen family and friends react and respond in all and sundry ways when confronting a dying person, and most common is the sense of “I don’t know what do to or to say.” The same is true when a project or a team or even an organization has reached it’s natural end. There are competencies required for good palliative care for organizations and teams; listening, clarity, holding each other accountable, patience and courage are a few of them. 

And one of the remarkable things that happens to organisms and to organizations, as they move towards death is that new possibilities, new ‘shoots’ if you will start to appear. They are often lonely, even convinced that they are the only ones like this. In the midst of the dying organization, there appear these tiny moments of possible future. For example, in the midst of the crumbling global financial institutions, what appears but a group of smaller banks and credit unions called the Global Alliance for Banking with Values (www.gabv.org). Or in the midst of steady declines in mainstream church attendance, there are churches with quite impressive growth numbers compounding year after year. And so as leaders, as much as Meg Wheatley is correct that we need palliative care competencies, we also need neo-natal care competencies. Competencies like, empowerment to give the neo-natals room to grow, networking skills to link them across the organization, into other organizations and even across nations and oceans. (What Tom Peters calls the “Sri Lanka Effect”, whereby the most innovative ideas come from the ‘hinterlands’.)  Neo-natal competencies like, mentoring and learning to ensure that the best skills and wisdom from lessons learned are passed on, and competencies like patience to allow for the neo-natals to take the new organization in the direction it needs to go, and not in the direction the dying organization wants it to go.

And so, like so much else in leadership, we must find balance between the skills of honouring and letting go as an organization dies, and tending and growing as new ideas and possibilities emerge.

May this week be a week of balance for each of us.