The theatre of meetings

Imagine for a moment you are at a play. You’re sitting comfortably. You’ve admired the set on stage. There’s an air of expectation, then the lights dim. The action starts. You marvel at the performers and their ability to connect with you, as if you are the only person in the audience – and they can’t even see you. How do they do that? Intermission arrives. Then Act 2. At the end you applaud politely or enthusiastically, depending on your experience, and make your way back to the ‘real world’ outside the theatre.

A lot has gone on behind the scenes to provide you with this experience: investors and sponsors were found, a playwright penned the original play, directors, actors, lighting technicians, set designers, costumers, dialogue coaches, caterers, ushers – many, many people played a role in providing you with the opportunity for an evening’s entertainment. All that was left for you to do was schedule the play in your diary, pay your money, and show up.

Contrast that experience with ones you may have had at work when attending a meeting. What are the similarities and differences? At first glance they seem worlds apart – after all, one is leisure, the other work.

Scripted Play                                             Work Meeting

Theatre                                                       Meeting room

Optional to attend                                       Often mandatory

Usually enjoyable                                       Not another *%^$# meeting!

With friends                                                 With work colleagues

Lot of attention to staging                            Staging? What’s that?

Clear beginning and end                             Have we started yet? Why are we still here?

The audience is integral                              I might as well be invisible

Everybody works towards success           Who’s responsible here?

Follows a script                                           Follows an agenda

The biggest difference might be that the play is scripted, and the director and performers are simply interpreting the carefully-crafted words and bringing the story to life. Albeit they have to learn a lot of lines.

Meetings are not scripted. Of course not – well, not usually anyway. Some meetings are scripted. They turn out to be a presentation. The closest most meetings come to having a script is an agenda, and even that is a tenuous link. An agenda is an order of proceedings – hardly a well-crafted script. Often we don’t know what is going to happen, and what people are going to say, in a meeting. Some people might turn up with their own agenda too, hidden or otherwise.

There would be a lot more in common between a meeting and a play if there was no script. That’s closer. There’s usually no script for a meeting. So let’s revisit the theatre. Same theatre, but this time there’s no set – the stage is pretty bare. The performers come on stage. There’s the same feeling of expectation, but this time it has an element of danger. Maybe danger is too strong, at least uncertainty. There is no script for this performance. No script. The performers have no lines to learn because they have no idea what they will be saying, or doing. These are improvisors. They will spontaneously make up the story, the dialogue and the action – often based on audience suggestions – in the moment. It’s not rehearsed. Maybe the performers are exceptional people, with talents the rest of us can only dream about. Not so. The skills that improvisors bring to the stage, we can all develop – and bring to our workplaces.

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I wrote the above in a notebook in mid 2007, even before I started this blog, and found it today while searching for something else. Fair to say I’m still exploring these links. And there’s still a long way to go. And I think it’s worth it. Funny that I had to wait this long to find a group of people willing to explore these edges of work with me. Funnier still that I’ve yet to meet two of them. That’s being on the edge!

Sharing the love

Looking forward to this Creative Performance Exchange Meetup: reflections of a roving facilitator, on May 3.

And this, In the Minds of Entrepeneurs; The Playful Entrepeneurs on May 10.

Would love to see you there.

The future belongs to those who can be flexible and adaptable

A special Insight report in the weekend paper is about the future of a baby born in Australia this year. Here’s what caught my eye.

“If current trends are anything to go by, today’s babies will inhabit a world in which flexibility and adaptability will be key. Their life trajectories will be whorls of activity spinning off into periods of retraining and reinvention. Their education will be interactive, ongoing, and probably much more fun than yours.“

I’d argue that flexibility and adaptability are important right now.

Also in the weekend paper, is an opinion piece by Garry Lyon, a former professional Australian Rules Football player.

“I couldn’t help but think last weekend how important it is for football clubs, and their coaches, to have the ability to improvise, and be flexible in their planning as they embark on season 2012…I hope the spirit of improvisation catches on during matches…What we do know is that football constantly surprises, throwing up new challenges at every turn. The ability to improvise has never been more important.”

This talk of the need for flexibility, or agility as it’s sometimes called, adaptability and improvisation are all very well, but how do we develop these capacities?

We all improvise – life is an improvisation, as it comes with no user’s manual. We seem to be happy to improvise the small parts of our lives – or maybe it’s that we simply don’t recognize that we’re improvising. Yet when it comes to our work, improvisation is seen as something akin to recklessness.

It is possible though to learn to improvise more and to bring this to all of the facets of our lives. Even those in the most controlled professions can improvise within  constraints. Improvisation is not a synonym of anarchy or chaos. It exists within boundaries.

In many ways I’m not surprised when a group of capable, talented, professional people, when asked if they improvise, shake their heads. “I’m not an improviser,” they declare. “It’s not for me.” Jazz musicians, and comedy improvisors are probably what come to people’s minds when asked if they improvise. They probably think of improvisation as something performers do on a stage in front of an audience. Any wonder that most of us would say no to that.

Even these ‘professional’ improvisors practice relentlessly to build their capacity to improvise.

When watching a group of people improvising on the stage, here’s what I see: a high-performing team, seamlessly working with each other, each with a specific, if changeable, function, working towards the successful completion of a specified task, sometimes making mistakes that might give them pause, but rarely stop them in their tracks.

Sound familiar? In its various forms, this is how teamwork is often described to me in businesses and organisations. It’s how people wished their teams were.

Taking a group of people for an away day or two or even three or more, or suggesting they attend a training course to learn how to improve their teamwork is ludicrous.

Would you send a child to a camp to learn how to play the piano, expecting that when they return from a few days away they would be transformed into a pianist? Would you take yourself to a retreat to learn new habits expecting to be a changed person on your return?

You might return with a new perspective, new information, insights and inspiration. You might even return with a set of skills to practice and hone and develop.

And this is the point.

We never learn anything new without practice. I’ve already written about this here.

Building our capacities to be flexible, to be more comfortable with uncertainty, to trust our abilities to adapt, and to see the possibilities around us, don’t always come easily as we struggle to shed the legacy of an era of order, control and predictability. We need to be exposed to being flexible and adaptable, we need to learn the foundations of improvising, and we need to practice.

Just as a footballer will practice in the gym to build strength, and run to build stamina, we need to train to be more spontaneous. If we want to be more flexible and adaptable and able to respond when we don’t know what to do, we need to practice so as those skills become second nature.

These ideas fascinate and excite me. And I’m looking for others who are share an interest in how to develop our capacities to thrive in an uncertain future. I don’t think there’s any easy answers, no magic bullets, no next ‘big thing’. But I do believe there’s lots of new territory to explore, new skills to learn, ideas to share and connections to make. If you are also fascinated by these ideas, you might be interested in this.

Creating a memorable conference

I opened a newspaper and there was a photo of Yosemite National Park. I’ve been to Yosemite once, for a few days. The place was instantly recognisable. It strikes me time and again how easy it is to recognise a place that I have physically visited. There is some visceral memory. There is something about place, and relationship to something outside of ourselves that creates, and embeds, memory.

I’m asking myself what makes a memorable conference? If you attend many conferences, what memories come to mind? Which events come back with enormous clarity, and why? What conferences do you talk about long after they were done?

I have a few theories based on a research sample of one.*

Sense of place
Not all venues are created equal. Memorable events have light, space, a vibe, connections with nature, provide an opportunity to stare into the middle distance (maybe even fuelling daydreams) and are a part of the place, not apart from.

Involving all the senses
Hearing and seeing are well catered for in most conferences. Our other senses not so much. Smell – the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee; the smell of jasmine flowers wafting on the breeze; the salt smell of the ocean. Touch – the feel of lovingly crafted and carved talking stick; of a notebook that is bound in linen and embossed. Taste – of the flavours of the place, of freshness. And even hearing and seeing can be enhanced – colours, beautiful pictures, the sounds of nature, singing, silence. The best conferences I remember through all of my senses.

Connection is as important as content
After I’ve been to a great conference I’m likely to chatter incessantly about all the great people I met and what new stuff I learned. Without the connection, and the ability to reference what I’m learning to who I’m learning it from, I’m likely to forget.

Pace and movement
Not too rushed, not too slow, and plenty of time for conversations to develop beyond the superficial. Long breaks. Long enough to grab a coffee, and check messages, and visit the bathroom, and talk to people. And movement, not just sitting all day.

STAR – Something They will Always Remember (hat tip Nancy Duarte)
Something quirky, something unexpected. Like 200 people doing James Bond Aerobics, or group singing on the New York subway, or a presentation that moved you to tears, or ginormous bubbles that did nothing more than make you smile a lot.

What makes a conference memorable for you?

*That would be one person, not one conference.

It’s all about movement

“People learn a new language more easily when words are accompanied by movement.”

New Scientist, Issue 2844/2845 Dec 2011.

I’ve written before about the importance of physical movement, and how this is integral to how I facilitate.

I love this card because it reminds me to move my body, and to provide opportunities for people to move when they meet rather than sit in a passive state for long stretches. It’s ambiguous too – because it also reminds me to move and be moved – emotionally. Physical and emotional movement is equally important, and often equally ignored.

So in designing an event build in physical movement, and think about the emotional journey of participants. What will move them? What will touch them emotionally? What will create a shift or a disruption?

We live in an ‘either’ – ‘or’ world. Time to embrace ‘yes, and…’

The conversation went something like this.

Me: I’m thinking of getting an e-reader, probably a kindle. It means I can carry lots of books with me and always have something to read. And it looks kinda cool.

Friend 1: Oh, no, I could never use an e-reader. I like books. Paper books.

Friend 2: Me too. I would never use one of those. I like books.

End of conversation.

I never said I was giving up paper books. I like books too. I like to write in the margins. I like to pile them up in my office, to sit on the floor surrounded by them looking for just the right quote or paragraph (this is how serendipity happens for me). And…, I want an e-reader.

Sure, life is about making choices. Sometimes it’s not possible to do both, to be in two places at once, to buy both frocks.

And it’s also about knowing when the choice is not black or white. It’s about being mindful of what’s possible, of noticing your first response and allowing other responses in before jumping to a conclusion. I know I’ve forgotten to ‘yes, and…’ when I start with a No. No, I couldn’t do that. No, it wouldn’t work. No, that’s wrong. No, I don’t like that idea.

Adopting a ‘yes, and…’ mindset is all about accepting offers. You don’t need to like the offer, or even follow-through. It’s about the initial moment of acceptance rather than rejection. It’s about seeing that there’s more to making a choice than it’s either this or it’s either that. It’s about noticing the offer in what others say and do. Sometimes it’s hard to notice an offer – it’s a small offer, or it’s tentative, or it’s hidden amongst a whole lot of noise. Make big offers yourself. Notice the offer in what others say and do.

To accept is such a gift. To be accepted is such an honour.

Just another New Year’s post

It’s hot. That’s not a metaphor. It’s really, really hot. Too hot for the beach. It’s also the day after New Year’s Day. It’s my friend Vera’s birthday. She says it’s the worst day of the year to have a birthday. Everyone wants a rest from celebrating, and tomorrow, for many, it’s back to work.

As I write this the north wind is blowing hard. It’s a hot wind. It’s a nasty wind. It carries bush flies from the north to the coast. It’s the wind that fuels fires. On days like these we scan the horizon for smoke, sniff the air suspiciously, check on-line to see if there’s any fires to worry about. It’s not a restful time.

On the crowded beaches, the sand blows on days like these. And beach umbrellas are a hazard. Little hot box shelters that people now bring to the beach are set up to provide some shade, but no relief from the heat. The only relief from the heat is in the water. And the water is cold. It’s the Southern Ocean after all. Some people inch their way into the water, bit by bit. I like to dive straight in, to feel the shock of the cold water on my hot skin, to feel the relief, to taste the salt on my lips.

Not today though. It’s too hot for the beach.

I’m excited about the first three months of 2012. After that I’m not sure what will happen. Nothing, or something. I’m hosting a conference in July. I’m helping friends with other events later in the year. I’d like to find a way to live overseas for a year or more. I like to notice what energises me and do more of that (hint – it’s mostly things that are unconventional). I want to be with people who are creative, have ideas, are a little bit (or a whole lot) weird, a bit vulnerable and are doing things I wish I’d thought of.

I see no reason to change my mantra from the last few months that has served me well:

Show Up. Be Present. Jump In.

There. That’s my New Year post done. We will now resume normal operations.

This one image describes what I want to keep doing in 2012

Joy and delight

Wouldn’t you like to have more of whatever it is that’s making the people in this pic react this way?

You bet.

The cause of all this joy and delight is bubbles.

The sort of bubbles that you blew as a child, and that you thought you’d outgrown. Seems none of us outgrow the pleasure  we get from watching someone blow bubbles.

This is the secret that Dr Froth aka Andrew Suttar knows only too well. For about the same time that I’ve been in business, Dr Froth has been blowing bubbles and developing his amazabubble performabubbles and his unique view on life known as Bubbleosophy.

Let’s face it – I’m jealous. Who wouldn’t want to see people reacting this way to your work?

And who wouldn’t want more joy and delight in their lives? This is something for me to work on methinks.

Here’s another pic of Dr Froth at work at the Hub Melbourne Christmas Party and if you want to see him in action, watch this video.

What do you do?

This has never been an easy question for me to answer. There’s been times when I’ve hankered for a recognisable ‘career’, maybe even a calling. The feeling passes soon enough and I’m back fumbling for a way to describe the work I do. I’ve realised how important this is recently as I’ve been working to reinvent myself and my work.

I’ve been intrigued by obituaries in my daily newspaper. Every one includes  a one or two word description that apparently sums up their life. I can’t imagine how many of us would fall into such easy categorisations. The people I find myself working with are often very talented in so many areas they defy categorising. And I think that’s a good thing. Categorising belongs to another era. An era when work was based on a specific career, and often one where the choice had to be made when quite young.

So for now I’m content with this:

Bringing meetings to life Creating conditions where people can feel alive when they are meeting together in whatever context, and paying attention to eventfulness – that nebulous aspect of gatherings that make them memorable.

Doing work that matters To you, to me, to the world. We innately know the difference between work that matters and trivial work. It doesn’t have to big to matter, it doesn’t have to popular or even mainstream. What’s important is that the work has heart and meaning.

Connecting people and ideas It’s an amazing time to be alive. So much is happening and it’s now possible to connect disparate people and ideas across the globe. And it seems to me there has never been a greater need to connect people and ideas, especially from different fields of thinking.

Also, a shout out to Nancy White who introduced me to the term Social Artist. Hmmm, maybe that will do for now.