It was the November gathering of the Thrivability Montreal conversation series. Close to 40 of us had gathered in Kahnawake, a Mohawk reservation just outside Montreal. We had the rare privilege of being invited to a local Longhouse to learn about indigenous perspectives on leadership. It was an evening of storytelling, tribal dance and emotion. And it’s taken me more than a month to
[I recently wrote a perfectly fine blog post about Belina Raffy’s visit to Montreal and her efforts to “use improv to save the world.” That post is accurate. But it left me dissatisfied and mildly annoyed. It seemed only to scratch the surface of something that's actually earth-shattering. So here’s the post I really wanted to write. Enjoy!]
It was Christmas Eve. I called my husband to see when he’d be home from a lunch party with his co-workers. He answered the call and said that he was OK, but four of them had been in a car accident. He was still in the car, in the backseat - which was unusual since he’s 6’3’’ tall. Apparently, he had graciously offered the roomier front passenger seat to a young woman in the group.
(This is part one of a two-part article. The second part is here.)
Who knew play could be such a serious matter? Indeed, as one of last month’s Thrivability Montreal gatherings revealed, there’s reason to believe it’s humanity’s only hope for survival.
The Occupy Wall Street movement has been criticized for its lack of clear demands. But I think it's far too early in the movement for demands. And I think there's another way forward.
Last week’s Thrivability Montreal was a fantastic gathering, full of energy and important insights.
We had gathered to explore the question: What if our organizations were designed to support the mindful practice of authentic dialogue?
I have the best conversations with my kids when they’re supposed to be asleep already. As they’re lying in bed in the darkness, they relax and their minds seem to open up. It’s then that I get a glimpse of their surprising wisdom. And it gives me immense hope for the future of humanity.
Last week, under a gentle August sun, a group of five people gathered at my cottage for two days of rich conversation. We ate every meal around a picnic table on the sandy beach, looking out over the lake and mountains. In between us and the lake, circling the base of three white birch trees, was a wild blueberry bush that was almost as blue as it was green.
I should have been fiercely focused, preparing for the event I'm hosting in a few hours about how to nurture diverse contributions within a thriving organization. But... I couldn't resist a quick peek at the royal wedding. Just a few minutes of the ceremony, I thought (with more than a little guilt).
I talk a lot about organizations as living systems and about aiming for thrivability. But what exactly does this mean? How does it work? And how do you know when your organization is “thrivable"?
To explain what I’m talking about, let me share a beautiful story of thrivability at work here in Montreal.
When you've lived in in nineteen cities (in seven countries), you don't really get the concept of “home.” People ask me where I'm from, and I don't know how to answer. “But where do you think of as home?” they ask. And I choose whichever city pops into my head first. It's easier to make something up than to suffer the strange stare of incomprehension that follows if I insist that I have no concept of home.
I had a fantastic time this weekend giving a talk at TEDx Concordia - red round carpet and all! The video should be available in a few weeks. Thanks to @evablue for the photo. In the meantime, here's what I said - imagine it being said with great passion! :-)
For the past ten years, my research and consulting work has focused on the basic pattern of all living systems. I see that same pattern at play in the Middle East now, and I think it offers an interesting lens for understanding what's going on there.
The pattern is this (in very simplified form). All living systems require three basic conditions if they are to thrive:
(1) divergent parts
The Humanity 4.0 slideshow ends with some pretty bold statements about the conversation humanity needs to have. Here's a bit more detail about how I envision that playing out. I share it here because I'd love to have help making it happen. So please let me know if you have talents, resources or perspectives you'd like to contribute, including suggestions about potential funding partners.
There are two key pieces to the conversation, as I see it:
(This discussion originated in a conference call around the Humanity 4.0 slideshow. The call was hosted by FourYears.Go. It continued in a series of incredibly rich emails among participants, and I thought I'd move it here in the hope of sharing what we're learning and inviting others into the conversation.)
Earlier this week, a new collaborator asked me for a few guiding principles that go along with thinking of an organization as a living system. "Just give me a few sentences that I can share with my colleagues," he said. As I anticipated, it was a valuable exercise. Here's what I sent him:
I was the last of five speakers at a local business school's Sustainable Business conference a few days ago. The experience should have left me feeling encouraged at all the good things happening across industries. But instead, it left me heartbroken. Soon, I know my sadness will turn into strengthened resolve to share the new story I see emerging in the world -- one with life at the center of its plot. But I think the sadness is also part of that story.
Here in Quebec, we are fortunate to have thousands of lakes, and the tradition is to spend summer vacation splashing in the water at a lakeside cottage. Tragically, this tradition has been threatened in the past several years. Household use of phosphate-based lawn fertilizers and cleaning products has stimulated massive growth of blue-green algae in the lakes, which has choked out all other forms of aquatic life and turned the water toxic. It's poisonous enough to kill a dog.
I just finished reading an article about sustainable communities, in which the priorities were equity, the environment and economics. This seemed to be a rephrasing of the triple-bottom line factors of people, planet and profits. Seeing it this time raised a question: why do economics and profit get equal billing with the living systems (people and planet) of which they are a part?