Time well spent

Here’s some images from my recent trip to the US. I was there on holidays, and to attend the Applied Improv Conference in Portland, Oregon.

The highlights were the scenery, autumn colours, fresh snow, Yosemite (wow!), indulging my passion for photography, sharing the improv conference with my good friends Anne Pattillo, Geoff Brown and Chris Corrigan and the deepening friendships that develop from shared experiences, seeing Geoff and Chris improvise music on stage in Portland, and reconnecting with old friends. There were also some people I missed, and some new friendships forged, many ideas, time to reflect, laugh, and re-energise. Time well spent indeed.

Spring

It looks like spring around here. The swallows are back and are renovating last year’s nest. The honeyeaters are collecting dog hair and spider web for their nests. Whales are on the move. And the humans come out of hiding from our short winter and start walking on the beach, along the cliff tops – and spend leisurely hours enjoying the sun in outdoor cafes. Until clouds roll in and a brief shower sends everyone scuttling for cover and diving into their bags for that scarf as cold air sweeps away the brief warmth.

A lot of my inspiration comes from nature, and luckily there’s a lot of it around here! Observing the shifts and changes in the local environment hones my observation skills, enables me to notice what’s going on. Seeing patterns in nature – often only visible over a number of seasons – helps me be aware of the patterns embedded in complexity. And being a part of the environment, rather than apart from it, reminds me of the interconnectedness of what we do.

Where do you get your inspiration?

You say tomato, I say…

A friend, who shall remain nameless for the time being, wrote an update on Facebook the other day saying she had just bought a new bathing suit. Now apart from the fact that I am insanely jealous of seemingly EVERYONE ELSE in the world who is taking holidays right now, and I’m not, this little update got me thinking about language.

Bathing suit. In Australia that translates as bathers.

Swimming costume. Well, that’s obviously a cossie.

Then there’s swimmers, togs, Speedos, boardies and for men only, budgie smugglers.

I can’t stress how important it is to clarify the meaning of words. As I work more and more internationally, I find myself asking time and again: ‘what do you mean when you say [insert word]‘?

The more abstract the word, the more likely there is to be misunderstanding. I was once travelling through corn country in the US, from Indianapolis to Chicago. I was on an agricultural journalists’ tour. It was a lot of fun, there we were, a bunch of agricultural journos from around the world doing a road trip through wide open spaces, stopping to visit farmers. And the most amazing corn factory. They made everything out of corn. There were corn pens, and paper, and oil, and food. As far as I know the whole building was made of corn. But I digress. Apart from my accent meaning I was virtually unintelligible, obviously my questions made little sense too. We were visiting a farmer who had reclaimed a lot of marshy country. The water was collected into drains and flowed away. I asked where? He looked at me as if I was from another planet and answered, away. Obvious really. Then I asked about biodiversity. And his reply was that he grew corn and beans. Well, that’s OK then!

Over dinner one night I found myself having a heated discussion with a local journalist about organic agriculture. I don’t remember much, except the moment when I asked ‘what do you actually mean by organic?’ That’s when we discovered we were talking about two completely different things. There was some confusion regarding organic and biodynamic. Anyway, the lesson stuck. I’m reminded of this any time I ask someone what they mean by consensus, or outcome, or sustainable or even workshop! Or heaven forbid, facilitation.

It pays to clarify meaning, and simply illuminates how our different experiences manifest in the language we use.

Some reflections on the bushfire recovery process

It’s nearly five months on from the Victorian bushfires that claimed many lives, homes, livlihoods, habitat, livestock and wildlife. I don’t live in the affected area. I’ve done a few workshops with people who do, and with people who have been affected indirectly.

I’ve seen some of the effects – physical and emotional. I’ve seen the blackened trees, felt the stillness, and the emptiness. Yet have been surprised by the resilience of nature, as the sound of a single bird fills the void and the sight of new, green shoots seems to sprout as I watch. I’ve listened to stories and to accusations, to questions and to answers. I’ve seen multiple emotions cross people’s faces in a moment. And I’ve seen great pain and great joy.

I’ve read reports of the inquiries. I’ve listened to people recount their stories. I’ve heard analysis. I’ve heard blame. And I’ve heard thanks. Directly and mediated.

And most poignant of all, to me, are pleas from people rebuilding their lives for ongoing support. Not for more money, although that helps; not for more visits from the agencies, although it’s good to know they haven’t been forgotten; not from tourists, although it’s good have their money flowing into the affected communities. Sometimes they don’t even have the words. They want their community back. They want the connection. The feeling of belonging.

I can’t give them what they want. Nor can anyone else.  This has to come from within. Community-building is community-centric. The time for facilitators from outside of these communities is passing quickly, although we can still provide valuable support through training, coaching and mentoring. In the end though, it will be up to these reinvented, fledging communities to bring their own groups together to re-build local capacity, and resilience. And a sense of belonging again.

This week’s cool links

• This simple idea is so effective, and creative – love it! Thanks to Patti for the link.

• I’m tempted to make the trip to Wellington just for this Presentation Zen masterclass!

• Les Posen is a fan of Keynote and audience-centred slideshows (as am I, and that’s where the similarities end!). I aspire to his level of understanding and competence with Keynote. This is is an interesting post about his recent meeting with the Keynote developers. Here’s a few bits to whet you appetite:

…my take on presentations was both complementary to Garr [Reynolds] and Nancy [Duart], but also came from a different place, away from designper se, and more from human learning and the brain sciences.

I showed how contemporary media are employing some of the graphical designs I too employ in my slide construction, and why.

What’s at the heart of Presentation 2.0? Think for a moment where we are now with Web 2.0. There is a direct line between service and product provider, and consumer, such that consumers or end users can blog, or tweet, or facebook about providers and influence the decisions of other potential consumers. We get valid information about product reliability for instance from bloggers and commenters on blogs, as much as we do from mainstream media reviewers. Think about the reviews you read on Amazon which includes “official” editorial contributions and reviews by purchasers, perhaps much more like us, and thus to be considered more reliable than biased writers.

Put these the concepts together, as I did to the KN team, and you come up with two properties in short supply currently (or more than ever before): Authenticity (who do you trust) andAttention (who should I attend to, given competing sources of information and competition for my time?).

I wanted the Keynote team to understand that when I construct my slides these two ideas stay in my mind, and they are more to do with my audience than they are with me. I need to establish my Authority and Authenticity for my audience to keep engaged, and I need to know how the brain works, so that despite my endeavours to increase the former two A’s, I embrace the challenges to the other A, Attention, which can wander due to how our brains function.

I spoke of these concepts early in my presentation, because it helps explain why I choose to perform certain slide constructions, and how I contemplate the intended impact on particular audiences.  Now I don’t know how any individuals in the KN team responded to my audience-centric approach, but I do know on occasions in responding to their questions, I had to work a little to get my point across, given the team is very much about the end user experience. But in my case the end user is myaudience, and Keynote merely a tool to achieve a particular series of effects upon my audience.

• And if I had the means, maybe I should introduce Graeme Pearman to Les Posen. Graeme Pearman is one of Australia’s most eminent scientists with an international reputation in climate science. I heard him speak once. There was no doubt about the veracity of his science, the urgency of his message and power of his evidence. Pity about the powerpoint preso though! There’s an article in todays’ Melbourne Age newspaper by Jo Chandler (yep, I still read newspapers) that explore’s Dr Pearman’s excursion into behavioural science to try and understand our inaction on the climate change message. Here’s a taster:

[Pearman] had a revelation. He had  been suffering under the delusion that as knowledge of the physical world improves, ratoionalt-based information would lead to rational responses to such threats as climate change.

What behavioural scientists tell us is that rationality is circumstantially based. So what is rational to me is not rational to the next person because they come from a different circumstance. They also tell us that when we are confronted by a threat such as climate change, people experience many alternative emotions, and employ different coping mechanisms. The anxious might deny; the sad might avoid; the hopeless become resigned; the frustrated, cynical; the depressed, skeptical; the angry, just fed up.

• The Unconventional Writing Contest is on right now over at The Art of Nonconformity. Be quick – the deadline is July 11.

New thinking

For many years now I’ve had this Arthur Schopenhauer quote as part of my email signature:

“Thus, the task is not so much to see what no one yet has seen, but to think what nobody yet has thought about that which everybody sees.” 

This TED video captures exactly that! This gives me faith that we can yet save the planet.

Sometimes this is all you need

After a full day of listening, questioning, processing, analysing, holding space, humouring and travelling this is just the tonic I need. Maybe you do too? Enjoy.

I love this time of year

We’re coming out of winter. The days are getting longer (bring on daylight saving) and it’s often sunny and warm. For a few minutes, anyway. It can also still be quite cold, windy, wet and stormy. The birds are building nests and the blue wrens are in the full breeding colours. And many of the plants in the garden are at their best. Makes me think of new ventures – even new adventures.

Cause and effect

This has been playing on my mind recently, and maybe it’s gelling just enough for me to write about it. Three things happened:

1. I was researching Communities of Practice and complexity and came across a Sketchcast by Shawn at Anecdote, where he talked about the Cynefin framework and the relationship between cause and effect. I’d not thought so much about the cause and effect part before. The big ah-ha! moment for me was realising that when things are complex, the effect is known (via patterns) before the cause (as in climate change for example).

2. I was listening to a particularly dense (as in ‘chock full of big words’ not ‘dumb’) ppt presentation on climate change and the speaker was struggling to describe complexity 

3. I’ve been pondering the need to be seen to be DOING, the need to produce OUTPUTS or PRODUCTS and the dilemma of the intrinsic worth of simply BEING with others and having conversations.

This third situation often arises when I talk about or facilitate open space meetings. “It was good to talk, to have some time to explore, to slow down, BUT what did we achieve?” I wonder why talking, exploring and slowing down are not generally seen as achievements in their own right?

Which brings me back to my everyday work – facilitating. Planning (in organisations etc) used to be relatively straightforward, and although I never particularly enjoyed planning processes, they worked quite well and did the job. I tend to avoid planning-type jobs these days in favour of approaches that generate conversation and learning, particularly around complexity. I’m happy enough if people can just be together and be in conversation. Products are not so important – sometimes not at all important.

At this point I got distracted and went off to try and figure out how to do a Sketchcast on the Cynefin framework, then I got to practicing using my pen tablet (not very successfully), then I made a couple of phone calls – and then ended up cruising a few blogs. Where I came across this on Johnnie Moore’s site. Now this is really spooky cos it says (much better) what I’ve been thinking. So go and have a look at it now , only lasts a few minutes. Go on – I’ll still be here when you return.

So, the thing is, how do we rediscover the art of being? And when we rediscover the art of being, how do we make it valued? Probably start with ourselves – value it in ourselves and spread the word.

Amazing people

One of the joys of my work is the opportunity to meet so many amazing people.

One of them is photographer Tristan Clements.

Check out his pics on flickr.