Relishing the moments of light -- what comes after hierarchy?

Where are your places of practice? Who is your community?

I've told this story a few times in the past weeks, so if you've heard it before, please bear with me...

Back in 2008 I was part of a conference hosting team in Takayama, Japan. We were invited by the Institute of Cultural Affairs (ICA), the forerunner of the International Association of Facilitators, to host the different parts of the then UN development agenda.

I remember they were all negatively phrased and the set I co-facilitated for four days was called Disconnection & Barriers to Engagement. On the first day our sign fell off the wall and would not stay up until we changed it to Connection & Engagement. (Whew! What a relief!)

What most sticks in my mind was a small Appreciative Inquiry conversation we offered around these topics. Everyone paired up and we had one group of three -- two young women and a young man.

Whatever it takes.... just start there

I realised that it is not important that everyone start at the same place, what is important is that connection and engagement happen.  They are vital for any transformation to take place. That's what makes storytelling so important, because that's exactly what story does.

The final harvest from our week of work in Japan was so very beautiful and simple that it has stayed with me ever since -- When ME and WE are beautiful reflections of each other (and we had drawn a picture as if ME was standing by the waterside and WE was its reflection in the water), then we will have connection and engagement.

Simple, but oh so not easy. 

If you ask me what's up on the planet right now, I'd say -- at the root level -- we are in the dance of rebalancing ME and WE.

There are places on our planet where ME is overriding WE in a greedy run at snatching resources and controlling societal behaviour. There are places where WE is so constricting that ME offers the ultimate sacrifice -- people think it honourable to die at the desk from overwork. There are places in every society where WE doesn't involve a group we think of as not-ME, therefore an "other" we can (mis)treat as some kind of inferior being.

And the very worst of all? 

A WE that doesn't include the Earth or any of her inhabitants or a WE community of Earth inhabitants somehow doesn't include ME. This perspective creates human beings who have somehow fallen out of the web of life. At one end of the continuum they take no responsibility for behaviours that negatively impact all of life, in the middle they are numbing themselves or are asleep, and at the other end they are suffering from lack of meaning, disconnection and loneliness.

Essentially this means as a human race, most of us have decided to live in a horror story instead of a love story. WHY? Especially when we can choose it to be different.

At the very end of the Japanese conference I found someone who could translate for me. Written Japanese, like Chinese, is a pictorial language. Each symbol is a composite of stories. That's why I find it so fascinating.

When I asked my Japanese friend for the story meaning of the Kanji for what is commonly translated as "community", he paused for a moment, and then said: "The place where I am most myself."

I've repeatedly experienced this manifesting over this month. Keep reading to find out how.

Let's work to make it so. For everyone. 

Creating "the place where I am most myself" 

At the beginning of this month I was part of a team preparing for an Art of Hosting training in western Denmark. The venue was a former boy's school transformed into a retreat centre, Himmelbjerggåarden, close to the "Sky Mountain" where so many Danes have gathered for more than a century to be in dialogue about democracy.

Our calling question was: How may we strengthen our personal leadership and ability to work in peaceful and co-create ways, to build thriving futures for all? In our circle of 67 were many teams, bringing an orientation with them that demanded practicality and immediate application. 

One of these teams was made up of facilitators who support workers on the factory floors across Asia. They came from Vietnam, China, Bangladesh, Pakistan and India. For the first half of our time together they wondered why they had joined a group of crazy, privileged white people (maybe even stupid white people) who believed conversations could change anything.

Their integration into the group and a change of perspective began on the second day as the focus shifted to storytelling and Open Space. In the morning story trios took over the grassy spaces outside to share and harvest stories where personal strengths and practices were tended and it served others well. By the time they came back, deep connections in the small groups already had an effect.

Then Open Space meant everyone could follow what had most heart and meaning for them, gaining contributions from others who were likewise drawn to their topic.

In the evening we stepped into Collective Story Harvest around seven storytellers with deep and challenging stories of transformation and we grew a root system. The mycelium of stories had arrived to hold the community together. The depth of connection was palpable and people told me the next morning the healing was still going on. 

Suddenly all the MEs in the circle became a WE, linked together in story and learning. The relational field gave us the connection we needed to step into the practicality of applying everything we were learning to actual work out in the world.

This is something I've noticed again and again in the course of 30 years in groups: Unless we balance the task with a solid relational field, the edginess of innovation or new perspectives have a hard time landing -- especially in turbulence. And yet it has been the norm, especially in high action cultures, to consider this "the soft stuff" and not as important as tangible results.

In my work, I've seen it quite clearly -- the soft stuff IS the hard stuff!

So what can supersede hierarchy as a method of organising? Keep reading...

Upper left: World Café conversations around the questions: In the light of current turbulence what does personal leadership mean to me? What can help us navigate the edge we are trembling on? Upper right: On the left, the personal intangible and tangible harvest / On the right, collective intangible and tangible harvests we expect from conversations that matter. Lower left: The group silently collating a harvest from a conversation. Lower right: At the end of my teach on the 8 Breaths of Process Architecture.

DEEPLY GRATEFUL FOR MY COLLEAGUES: Toke Paludan Møller, Rowan Simonsen, Maja Rotbøll, Anne Madsen, James Ede, Efua Uiterwijk, Martin Krayer von Krauss, Frederikke Oldin

After the training -- a message in the group chat: "I think of you. Of all the conversations that we had and the courage that we shared. I think of the bright sun and the blue sky and the candles in the story night. And my heart is full of love and gratitude. It was really precious for me to be able to join you all and be in practice together."  -- Ellie Nguyen, Vietnam

Join me at the next Art of Hosting trainings...

• May 7 - 9: Innsbruck, Austria (in German) -- Wie bringen wir gute Veränderung in Gang?
• May 30 - June 1: Budapest, Hungary -- How can we stand together and collectively build new paths forward in the age of polarisation and "othering"?

What comes after hierarchy?

It is a mammalian trait to live in hierarchies. So its not strange we do too. Even the body has it's own natural hierarchy. Hierarchy itself is not a bad thing.

But when hierarchy gets out of balance it leads to comparison, competition, greed, control. It leads to colonialism, conquest and pain. We have a ravenous hunger for knowledge because we think it can lead to power. But what happens to wisdom? We are ceaselessly active because we believe we need to survive and get ahead. But what happens to the stillness creativity needs? What happens to the natural cycle of rest and renewal? What happens to health, vitality, belonging?

Heterarchy is a collective intelligence in which the members all contribute to the whole in their own way. This is the way bees and ants work together. In human systems, working in this collaborative way starts with building enough trust so that people are willing and able to bring their unique gifts and talents in service of the whole. Each member has found the individual freedom to contribute.

I've seen this come to life during an Art of Hosting training -- clusters of groups and individuals all working on their piece of contribution. Trust and invitation are high enough that the door opens inside. We are endlessly surprised by each other's contribution, creativity and wisdom. We are more because of each other.

In short, we are making honey together. It is a honey that could serve generations.

Are you asking yourself: What is mine to do?

So many of us have experienced both the whitewater of the present turbulence and the desire for a change from the culture we've been part of or the story we've been living in up to now. We are asking ourselves: "Who am I now in the face of this?"

And from this we also ask: "What is mine to do?" What is the work that taps my unique talents and makes the greatest impact -- for me and the world?

It helps to be in conversation with others who are also carrying these same questions. Our first two conversations in March were both connecting and deeply nourishing.

Join me and Amy Lenzo, steward of the World Cafe and my online hosting partner, for another round of the "WHO AM I NOW?" CONVERSATIONS coming up in May. We are joined by Andreas Giesen and musician Stephen Jacob.

It's free to join!

I had a friend tell me last night that this is the fastest spring he's ever experienced in Denmark. Trees that were bare only weeks ago are suddenly green and full of blossoms.

While human beings might be confused (and confusing), Life itself is following the prime directive of the season as energy rises almost with visible wild abandon. 

Here are two role models for me during this season:  

Close to where I usually stay in Copenhagen is a large lake, home to all kinds of birds and my favourite observation target, the swan. They are so majestic, gliding by. I no longer want to "make like a duck" but I aspire to "glide like a swan."

Of course there are territorial disputes, but you flap your wings, waggle your tail and get over it quick. You seamlessly glide through the other feathered species and share the water equally. You know you are at home and so there is a peacefulness of heart, mind and spirit.

On the other side of my picture is Ellie. She will be two in June. Eating with her is a demonstration of great joy and total engagement.

Of course you get some yogurt in your mouth. But you also get it all over your face, down your front, on the floor and on the convenient neighbours at the table. Enjoyment, after all, is best when it is shared. Vigourously. And with wild abandon. 

Both of these role models are a powerful demonstration of just being themselves. So where is that place where I am most myself? I am tending to it inside of me. Then I can share it with you.

All of the best work and most creative expression in the world is essentially about this. When we find ourselves, we find each other.

Wishing you the energy of wild abandon and happy Storymaking!  

PS Who -- or what -- are your role models this season? And where is that place where you are most yourself? ! 'd love to hear from you -- drop me a line!