Another Sunrise
 Ashridge Sunrise: iPhone

Ashridge Sunrise: iPhone

“Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work, driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for, in order to get to a job that you need so you can pay for the clothes, car and the house that you leave empty all day in order to afford to live in it.” (Ellen Goodman)

Transition is a slow process; I’m learning that it takes more than just one sunrise.

But I’m awake early these days.

I made this iPhone picture during another morning walk at Ashridge; coffee in one hand, phone in the other, speaking into the voice recorder as daybreak shone into the forest.

Apart from these morning salutations, my sunrises take many forms; they have been conversations with good friends, a shared dinner together, a supportive email, a brief text, a chat around the kitchen table, a passing touch, an unexpected phone call… They have offered moments of illumination, insight and glimpses of a different kind of ‘normal.’

Each gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) encouragement has shifted me. One conversation, one gesture at a time.

Change is a deeply social process.

Every ‘sunrise’ reminds me that we are defined by relationship and I recall the Ubuntu phrase, ‘I am because you are.’ We often live with the illusion that we have an identity; that we are each individually in charge of who we are. But when we learn that it is family, friends, colleagues and environment that makes each of us, the illusion of self falls away.

I know that this is a time for me to be clear in my choices. It is difficult work but I am finding ways to confront myself with my freedom; reaching into the courage required progressively transform. I have lived in the fearful shade of over-work and, like so many, retreat into a ‘be strong’ script where ego, success and status darkly seduce me.

But, as one wise dinner companion plainly told me, “…..that life will kill you.”

As I look around, it’s hard to disagree. It’s killing all of us.

So how can we take small steps towards the sun and support each other with helpful, kind gestures that might let us see the world differently?

As I step away from ‘normal’, I know that I can’t yet see a clear path ahead.

But I’m betting on the sun rising each day.

Notes:

I was stopped in my tracks by this Twitter conversation started by @CaitlinMoran.

This week I’m in Rutland, UK, working with @nicaskew of Soul Biographies. Nic has a great mantra; ‘There is nothing to do, nowhere to go, no-one to fix.’ It’s slowly starting to soak through me.

Listen to Ellen Goodman in Conversation with Lynne Sherr: What do you do after you’ve done it all?


Steve Marshall Comments
The Magic of Beginnings
 Ashridge morning: iPhone

Ashridge morning: iPhone

And suddenly you know: it’s time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.” (Meister Eckhart)

As the effects of burnout subside, I’ve been immensely grateful to friends who have joined me in conversation, helping me to make sense of events and gently (or sometimes not so gently…;-) confronting me with my tendency to take on too much as I heroically overestimate my capacity to influence systemic change.

Time alone has been important too.

The notion of a solo quest appears in many ancient ‘wisdom traditions’ when transition or transformation is required. Even in the face of modern change ‘prescriptions’, we still recognise the value of quiet moments of solitude in an otherwise busy day. I’m fortunate to work at Ashridge and part of my recovery process has been to spend time in the beautiful spaces that surround the business school.

I’ve become increasingly convinced that we need to find ways to drop our habitual mental models before we can sense into something new.

Otto Scharmer writes that, ‘Standard theories of change revolve around making decisions, determining “the vision”, and very often acting through a charismatic figure who can command people’s “commitment to the vision.”’ He then offers an alternative where clarity is reached by connecting to an emerging sense of ‘inner knowing’ and, ‘in a sense, there is no decision making. What to do just becomes obvious.’

I’ve also been catching up on a small book by Quaker theologian, Parker Palmer, who picks up on similar themes in his writings on authentic living. Parker takes the view that, “Vocation does not come from wilfulness. It comes from listening….”

So, my ‘Ashridge Morning’ image comes from a moment of sensing, quietly listening in to my own authentic voice and drawing inspiration from the spectacular dawn of a beautiful new day. It’s a way of working with change that would scare the life out of most corporates.

But it’s taken me a while to get here and I’m enjoying the magic…

Notes:

Take a look at ‘Presence’ by Senge, Scharmer, Jaworski and Flowers or ‘Leading from the Emerging Future’ by Scharmer and Kaufer which develop ‘the Theory U’ of change and transformation.

Parker J. Palmer has been a life saver and thanks to good friend Amanda Ridings at Originate for sending me a replacement copy of ‘Let Your Life Speak.’

I'm sorry, there isn't time
 Sent on the move: Nikon D3s

Sent on the move: Nikon D3s

“Can I just say that this is, in fact, the first time I’ve ever appeared on television?”

“No, I’m sorry there isn’t time….” (Monty Python)

An increasing number of the business emails I receive include little taglines telling me there isn’t time.

“Yours in haste….”

“Apologies for brevity….”

“Sent on the move…”

And, even if I don’t use a tagline, I know that I collude; “…let’s have a quick chat…” or “…can we grab a coffee?”

I remember Russell Brand’s verbose appearance in front of the UK Parliamentary Select Committee On Addiction when the chair, Keith Vaz, said, “I think we’re running out of time.” Brand responded (brilliantly), “Time is infinite. We cannot run out of time…”

It doesn’t feel like that. We’re addicted to the idea that there isn’t time…

Yet taking time and offering attention is an intervention itself into the way our organisations skim across the surface of our most serious issues.

On grabbing coffee, two of our popular vendors proudly announced that they would remove the environmental damage due to plastic coated paper cups by exchanging them for compostable corn starch cups. Their twitter fanfare was soon deleted as it was pointed out no-one had taken time to ask where corn starch came from, how much water it required, how much land was needed, how much food would be displaced? What about the extensive soil damage caused by maize growing? Or the pesticide use?

And that deeper social structures, including the consumerist values promoted by the vendors, means that customers need to rush down the street, coffee in hand, to their next abbreviated and probably equally ineffective conversation.

We need to take time.

For deeper conversation and better listening. For high quality attention that cuts through the superficiality of a snatched few minutes and probes into the deeper structures of our problems, issues and concerns.

Let’s take time to speak to each other with care and attention.

As we sit down to drink our coffee from a proper cup.

Notes:

Enjoy the utterly chaotic Monty Python’s ‘Election Night Special’ here on Youtube

See the full version of Russell Brand’s appearance before the Select Committee here or and abbreviated version (including the best jokes) here.

Read Cal Newport’s ‘Deep Work’ and the ‘killer app’ of attention.

Have a look at photographer Chris Jordan’s stunning imagery on consumption; here is a link to a picture of the one million plastic cups used on airline flights in the U.S. every 6 hours.

Finally, read George Monbiot’s column on a better kind of disposable coffee cup.

Steve MarshallComment