Immeasurable Time In Time Out

Immeasurable Time In Time Out

A Timeless Essay

My deepest dive into nature happened unexpectedly.

I had taken myself on a solo retreat to Ōpito Bay with no people, no devices, no books, no writing materials, nothing. And then as an added dimension: no clock.

That I didn’t expect. No clock would prove to make the experience profound.

It was a time when I had no measure of time at all, other than the turn of the tide, the rising of the moon and the setting of the sun.

I yearn to be more connected with nature. I have long dreamed of what it would be like to be closely attuned to changes in nature, the weather, the way plants grow, the cycles of seasons, planets, tides. Tuned into the rhythms.  And yet modern life and my busy mind has made this feel impossible.

I play flutes, including Māori flutes—taonga puoro. I have a pūtōrino flute, beautifully carved into the shape of Hine Raukatauri, the Goddess of Music. The story goes that the shape is that of the case moth, sometimes known as the whare atua, home of the spirit. It is the favoured food of the kōkako. The kōkako gets its beautiful song as an embodiment of Hine Raukatauri from the whare atua.

I went to meet the carver and told him how I had played taonga puoro with kōkako in the Hunua forest. It had been like a jazz jam session. We would play, and then the kōkako would sing back. They were clearly the masters, with notes soaring into the sky and through the ngahere. By comparison the sounds and notes from our taonga puoro were that of beginners.

The carver looked at me and said: That is wonderful. But what would be truly amazing would be to hear the sound of the case moth.

That has sat me with the past fifteen or so years. What would it be like to be in such a space of silence and connection that you could hear the tiny sounds of insects, or even the sound of a seed cracking as it grows beneath the soil?

And so I found myself at Ōpito and, like the name implies, on a journey of deeper connection to sources of nourishment, sustenance, to Te Taiao—a link, a thread, a chord, a pito.

At first it seemed pretty simple, cooking food, chilling out on the beanbag chair watching the ocean, dozing, and waking, drinking in the vista across the bay, watching the gulls chase silvery schools of ika back and forth, closely followed by optimistic figures in runabouts.

At dusk, there was more land bird traffic closer to me. Tūī, waxeyes, pīwakawaka and others, swooping in and out of the trees getting a last feed before dark.There were two worlds of busy birds in the sky, above the water and above the land. Without distraction, my observations of the natural surroundings were becoming more acute, just as I dreamed of, closer to nature.

On my second day I ran out of things to do. Well, ran out of patience at doing nothing really. So I planned a walk up the beach, to the prominent headland that gives Ōpito its name too, the far away edge. I had been up on that headland before with a friend, a special place where you feel like you are in the sky, in a fusion of land, sea and sky.

I wandered down to the beach, but it was high tide. There was no room to walk on the sand to the headland. So I sat in the boughs of a Pōhutukawa, waiting for the tide to turn, waiting. No measure of time from a watch or a tide timetable, just observing and waiting.

A little time passed. I was observing a kōhatu in the water, waiting for the water to recede and watching its level against the side of the rock. I closed my eyes for a little while, expecting when I opened them that the tide would be lower. It hadn’t shifted. I got more and more frustrated, annoyed, how come the tide and nature was not fitting in with what I wanted? I felt really impatient and actually upset. What was I going to do? I had my plan, I was sick of waiting. My idyll about being at one with nature was wrecked. She wasn’t fitting into my plan, she wouldn’t budge.

I closed my eyes again, let myself settle, and let go. I tuned into the rhythmic sound of the waves, lapping. And eventually the tide started to go out.

It seems a simple thing, but it was a huge learning. I saw how much I try to control time, and control it in ways that are simply not possible. How on earth could I ever influence a tide? And actually how arrogant, to think nature should or could bend to my whims?

My mind went back to another time when I had been left alone in nature without technology. When I was twenty, I did the Outward Bound course. Part of the course was called ‘Solo’, where you were taken by boat to a small bay in the Marlborough Sounds and left on your own for 3 days. You had no watch, no phone (although then it was pre-cellphone days), a small amount of food, a tarpaulin to make a shelter, and a notebook and pen.

The first day I thought I had everything sorted out. This was not going to be difficult. I portioned out my food, made my shelter. I could see the wake of the passing inter-islander ferry passing through the Sounds, and figured I had just seen a sailing pass that was around 6 pm. So I ate a little food and went to bed. I woke up several hours later, and it was still broad daylight. I had actually seen the wake from the 2 pm sailing. I freaked out. What was I going to do?  I had all this time, and I had eaten all my food for the day. I was hugely uncomfortable, and I near panicked at the thought of having to keep going.

I wonder how many of us spend several days without access to anything that tells us what time of day or night it is?

At Ōpito, once the tide receded, I took my walk up to the headland. The moon came up across the ocean, glimmering like a golden pathway to something infinite. My wait, although painful, had been worth it.

I slept well that night. The next day I packed up and headed home. On the BlackJack Road the road had slipped away after Cyclone Gabrielle. There were temporary traffic lights. They were red. They stayed that way for ages. But I was happy. I felt so nourished and nurtured by my far out time out, that sitting in the sun at the red light was no problem. I could have stayed there all afternoon. As I reflected there on the BlackJack Road, I felt immense peace. That time, by whatever measure, had shifted something in me. That impatient wait for the turning tide had illuminatedmy demanding and destructive relationship to time. I had made it a battle.

It was one of the most refreshing weekends I can remember, and it was so simple to achieve. No clock was the making of it. 

My time in time out. Time In. Time Out. Time in, time out.  Immeasurable.

If I take my time, one day, I might hear the song of the case moth.

Ushering in the Age of Spacious Leadership

Ushering in the Age of Spacious Leadership

Whether it is the way we write, the way we think, the way we communicate, or the way we relate to one another—space is critical.

Space is the yin to the yang, the cause to the effect, the dark to the light. We often use space as a metaphor, one that is so ubiquitous that we take it for granted. The human body itself is 99.9% space. Yet, we seldom delve into our relationship with space. 

We are in a constant relationship with space and time, and that relationship can often be a battle. There is never enough space, or there is too much. We can oscillate between an agoraphobic and claustrophobic relationship to space. Not only our physical and physiological spaces, but also our psychological and psychic spaces. 

Over the last seven years, I have been blessed with the opportunity to develop a meditation, breath and yoga asana practice that has transformed my relationship to space.  
 
I completed my training as an Art of Living teacher of breath and meditation in India just as the pandemic struck. It was the most amazing synchronicity to have this gift, both for myself and for those I teach, to find spaces and places of internal peace in meditation during those tumultuous years. 

I learnt a lot about space, as we all did.  As people across the world were confined to their homes in the pandemic, the greatest of fears arose in so many people, and the trauma of this continues to ripple amongst the population. Our fear of confinement is huge.  It shows how much we have become ill-equipped to find an internal peace in difficult circumstances.  

Watching the struggle of so many sowed the seed for my upcoming book. What is it about our relationship to space that is making so many people uncomfortable and unhappy? 

Our spaces have become extremely cluttered. Not only with the endless cheap consumer goods and packaging that fill our homes and workspaces, but also in the digital spaces that define communication and work in the 21st Century. Our world is cluttered by the constant streams of information we consume, clogging our thinking with our growing addiction to our digital devices that are constantly overloading our senses. 

Our internal and external spaces are chocka. We are choking and suffocating from a lack of space in our minds and our environments. It is relentless. 

Our digital world that held, and can still hold, the promise of saving us time and labour, has become a burden in the complexity we have become engaged with. Endless subscriptions, registrations, compliance processes, passwords, authentications, marketing… whew, it is exhausting. Not to mention the stress for those who struggle to navigate this world, due to age, ability, or expertise.   

Working in leadership development, I observe closely the challenges of those with leadership responsibilities in the corporate world, the public and not-for-profit sectors, and in communities and families.  

I started to reflect on what was missing for people. What are leaders struggling with most? 

It occurred to me that the greatest challenge is the relationship to space and time.  

The most successful leaders are those that find balance and harmony in this relationship. 

So what does that mean? 

Well far greater minds than mine have studied the relationship between time and space: just think Einstein and the theory of relativity. And long before Einstein, indigenous knowledge systems navigated this relationship and understood it at depth. Here in Aotearoa New Zealand, the concept of wātea, the time-space continuum, is a fundamental element of the indigenous knowledge systems of tangata whenua, the people of the land here. Across the Pacific we have the vā, the relational world of time and space amongst people and all living things. 

It dawned on me (and I love the metaphor of dawn, of light emerging in the day) that the most important quality of great leadership is spaciousness. 

Creating space for others to succeed is at the heart of great leadership models variously described as servant leadership, emergent leadership, distributive leadership, shared leadership, collective leadership, eco-ological leadership… 

Leadership fails when it is all about a one man band. Success is always predicated on the engagement of others. 

In the 21st century, we still see examples of an antiquated and colonial way of leading, where command and control leadership is administered from the top of a hierarchy. It is a failing system. Our diverse populations and newer generations do not buy into this: it is a hero based model that has had its day. There is no space left for it to thrive. 

The emerging great leaders of today are frequently unseen and unheard, because they are busy creating space for others to succeed. They lead by serving others, rather than cluttering up space and sucking up oxygen telling people what to do, and telling people what they themselves are doing. 

Sure, great leaders must communicate and engage powerfully and share vision, purpose and inspiration. But not from a pedestal. 

The old Taoist maxim, that the leader leads well when the people believe they themselves have achieved success, has never been more true. It is creating space in leadership for others to succeed and to lead that is the most successful leadership. 

Fundamental to the exploration and navigation of external space is the journey of inner space, the unseen journey. Achieving spaciousness in the world around us starts with creating internal space within us. 

Decluttering our minds, our psyche, our thinking is fundamental. And in today’s world, it is something that most of us do not pay enough attention to. The art and science of doing nothing, of creating internal space. 

This is where a meditation practice kicks in.  

Meditation can look very different to different people, and the practice should never be a ‘one size fits all’ thing.  For one person, vacuuming the floor may be a meditation. Driving a car may be a meditation for another. A walk on the beach or in a forest may be it for someone else. Others may wish to practice the meditations of spiritual knowledge systems.  

What is your meditation practice? Is it conscious or unconscious? 

With these final questions, perhaps it is timely to create some space for you as the reader. Here is where I stop writing, and let you go away and reflect.  There is more to come, watch this space… 


This year I am celebrating seven years since I published my book The Weave: The Surprising Unity in Difference. I don’t know what it is about a seven year period – it is a cycle that many people have beliefs about, ranging from astrological cycle of Uranus through to the seven year itch in relationships. My relationship to space and time has fundamentally changed in the past seven years, and I am excited to share with you some of the story behind my upcoming book.  

Making Space to Build Great Teams

Making Space to Build Great Teams

“Holding space” takes time to master. It requires a deep commitment to serve others, and to focus on the group in all its diversity rather than on one’s own voice, opinion and ego.

Providing the right physical and psychic space is critical to creating highly functional teams and organisations.

When facilitating groups, making space for people in a psychic sense makes a huge difference to the successful cohesion of a group and the outcomes they achieve. Disunity, division, conflict and breakdowns are seeded when people feel excluded and unheard, engendering a sense of not belonging. Creating psychic space requires a great deal of listening and a term that gets used in facilitation: “holding space.”

“Holding space” takes time to master. It requires a deep commitment to serve others, and to focus on the group in all its diversity rather than on one’s own voice, opinion and ego. It is a subtle skill, but starts with honouring all the voices and ways of expression in a group, and seeking connection, building on the contributions that are offered.

Read the full article on the Tetramap website

Weaving Ways Through Wicked Problems

Weaving Ways Through Wicked Problems

It’s complicated. Such a telling response when people are asked about a challenging relationship. It has become a widespread meme because it is spot on describe the ins and outs of relationships.

That’s also our world today, super complicated, and full of wicked problems it feels impossible to unravel. We can feel powerless in the face of what occur as insurmountable problems.

Weaving as a metaphor for ways of connecting seems so obvious. We use terms like threads of thought, ideas, and weaving these threads so frequently we most often don’t even notice the reference.

And yet weaving is potentially the most important metaphor of all time.

Indigenous cultures use weaving as a metaphor extensively. In the ancient wisdom of indigenous people, the practical, the spiritual and the intellectual are woven as one.

References to the ways nature weaves eco-systems is deeply entwined in the stories that guide many indigenous cultures.

And in fact all cultures.

Weaving is arguably the oldest technology of human kind. We saw how nature wove, and started to replicate to make structures for food, clothing and shelter.

And even today, every constructed environment we inhabit or use in human built infrastructure is full of woven forms.

The opportunity to explore weaving as a metaphor offers a vast, broad and deep way to navigate complexity, to align our thinking, our actions and our reflections with the twists and turns of woven forms and functions.

Delving into a weaving way enables ‘give and take’ navigation of disparate elements that can come together, and separate, where strands can stand alone for a while, and combine as and where necessary.

A physical weaving that is well constructed has flexibility; too tight and it is constrained, too loose and it does not hold.

Weaving as metaphor can enable us to navigate both the physical and the metaphysical, co-joining elements of our tangible and intangible world.

A shortcoming of humankind today has been to reduce the world to tangible, linear processes that people believe they can define, confine, control and measure.

But in reality, as science and spiritual knowledge around the world is starting to merge and co-mingle, we can see that there is so much that is immeasurable and unfolding in our realities that we would be wise to stay curious about, accepting that human knowledge has only taken baby steps to understand what goes on across this planet, the elements and the ‘space’ beyond our immediate realms.

To weave ways of being and ways of doing, and to be in awe at the opportunities we as humans can have on this intricately beautiful and complex planet is a place for us to stand, to hunt for threads of connections, and to unravel the tangles of our woven world, finding unity in our differences.

 

 

 

 

 

Why I Hugged My UnVaxxed Friend the Other Day

Why I Hugged My UnVaxxed Friend the Other Day

It’s tough out there right now. So many, many people functioning on fear.

I am a fully vaccinated anti vaxxer. In a perfect world, I would not go near a vaccination.

I have a healthy distrust of big government, big business, and big pharma. To be honest I would not trust any of them as far as I could throw them.

I chose to be double vaccinated, not for myself, but for my family and community. The decision was simple. Not that I liked making it one little bit.

But this is not a perfect world. We are all immuno-compromised because of the tainted air we breathe, the water we drink, and the food we eat, the work we do, our unhealthy homes and workplaces, and the inequitable society and economy we live in.

If we put a lens to the disgusting chemicals that abound in our environment, a COVID vaccination and its potential side effects probably pale in comparison.

Exhaust fumes, pesticides and nitrates in water and food, chemicals in building materials, cleaning materials… the list goes on and on and on, and it has all been in the name of gross profit, well actually greed.

I write not to excuse or justify for a moment the use of vaccination. It is simply to set a broader context.

This is not to debate or to use the tired adversarial debate process, of who is right and wrong.

No one is right and wrong in this.

I got vaccinated because I spend a fair bit of my time with marginalized members of our community, those on the edges, that we now deem ‘immuno-compromised.’ They include my 92-year-old Dad, who I visit regularly as his care-giving service has been halved. I spend time with people from the disability community, who have no choice over their compromised health. I spend time with people of various ethnicities who through inter-generational trauma, poverty and suppression through colonisation have compromised health; physical, mental, and spiritual.

None of these friends and whānau have the same access I do, as a middle-class white pākehā with a small disposable income, to organic food, home grown food, herbal remedies, yoga and meditation programmes that all support my immune system.

There is plenty of science that clearly demonstrates those in lower socio-economic groups do not easily have the bandwidth or the environment to ‘pivot’ to healthier lifestyles.

If we could get what I have in these so called ‘alternative’ sources of good nutrition, spiritual and mental health to the wider population, we might shut down the Ministry of Health, Pfizer et al tomorrow.

After all, they do have a vested interest in people remaining sick, otherwise they would all be out of a job.

But we are where we are.

And we have a new minority that run the risk of being turned into lepers; the unvaccinated.

I get it.

When I go out and I see people not bothering with masks, sanitizer, tracing, or social distancing, I judge. I think, come on, get with the programme.

But I then move on to work to source some compassion in myself. The fear in their eyes equals the fear in the eyes of those fully vaccinated following the rules. And let’s face it the rules are messy, inequitable, and frequently don’t make much sense.

Tragically, there are so many hidden sources, political and ideological behind the information we are consuming. We have outsourced what we think and feel, not solely to government and business, but to the algorithm that is choosing the information we consume. We would do well to hack and disrupt the invasive memes that enter our homes and heads that follow an orchestrated coded agenda, and browse sources far, wide, and unpredictable.

The government’s PR campaign is growing tired.

In Aotearoa Labour and National governments alike have been manipulating the population with PR and media since the early 20th century.

A recent article in Memories magazine by the wonderful radio documentarian, Hop Owen, now in his nineties, tells the story of the introduction of radio to Aotearoa. At the time, a radio set in the home was the very latest technology. But its introduction was mired in political agendas.

Hop writes that in 1934 Auckland’s favourite radio station 1ZB was owned and operated by “Uncle Scrim” a former Methodist City Missioner, who knew well the misery of Auckland’s poor and unemployed. He gave a weekly talk called The Man in the Street that was obligatory listening for anyone in Auckland with a radio set. But an election loomed, and the reigning Coates/Forbes coalition (yes they had them even then) of the Reform and United parties (predecessors of the National Party) were worried Uncle Scrim would use his platform to support Labour, and the government Post and Telegraph department that controlled radio frequencies jammed his broadcast. He did get to broadcast his script the next day after a furore and it contained no endorsement of the Labour Party.

Labour won the election in a landslide victory, but it too would go on to try and control the airwaves. They made the way for parliament to be broadcast for the first time in the western world under a pretext that it would bring democracy to the people. They then went on to stage manage, and carefully select speeches, speakers and edited debates to better represent partisan government views.

It does not feel a long stretch 85 years later to the controlled daily PR briefings we endure from government ministers and health bureaucrats every day. And isn’t it strange that the signage and branding in vaccination centre booths is remarkably like those in polling booths? Just saying.

So where do we go.

We must dig deep in ourselves to source love, compassion, and acceptance. It takes work. It takes stepping through our fears and reactions. For me I now have a two hourly daily practice of yoga, breath, and meditation. That calms me. I have used lockdowns to expand my practice. I am growing vegetables and tending my garden more than I have ever done before in the 30 years I have lived in this spot.  I teach meditation and breath workshops online, for people in workplaces and homes to bring a bit of peace and harmony to the fear of the chaos of the world beyond our bubbles.

In my own small way, I wish to bring these immune system building practices to others, and one day in an evolved world, they will become the norm, rather than toxic food, air, water, chemicals drugs and adversarial politics.

We are so blessed to have a short time living on this planet. The natural world we live in is magical and amazing at every turn. If we can pause, wonder and be curious about its magnificence perhaps we can better source wellbeing. In front of me are a vase of flowers and some fresh fruit, they are exquisite. They are beautiful beyond compare. What human mind could ever design something so remarkable. We work to get close, with our imaginations and creativity. But we thrive when we surrender and let go to the fact, we are only a small speck in the cosmos. Our ills derive from getting way too big for ourselves, thinking we can control natural systems for our own benefit.

As western systems of governance, business and science are failing us, it is timely to turn to the ancient wisdom of indigenous knowledge sourced ( honoured and not appropriated) from India to North America to Aotearoa. Western science and thought are slowly catching up to the thousands and thousands of years of wisdom in indigenous science, that melds physics and metaphysics, and teaches harmonious living with tangible and intangible systems of our natural world.

My teacher Sri Sri Ravi Shankar puts politics and religion like this:

“The role of religion is to make one righteous and loving, and politics means caring for people and their welfare. When religion and politics don’t co-exist, then you have corrupt politicians and pseudo-religious leaders.

A religious person who is righteous and loving will care for the welfare of the whole population and hence become a true politician. And a true politician can only be righteous and loving.

Today both religion and politics needs reform. Religion must become broader and more spiritual to allow freedom of worship and to encompass all the wisdom of the world. And politicians must become more righteous and spiritual. “

So whānau, breathe. In your mind and your soul, hug one another, whether it is mentally or physically. Have compassion for all in this time of fear.

Source yourself in activity and thought that brings you peace.

Step away from the drama that pipes into our homes and affects our systems, manipulating adrenal systems, evoking cortisol, dopamine, and oxytocin without our control.

Take time to reflect, to meditate, to do nothing and whatever works for you to still your mind and relax.

In te reo Māori the achingly beautiful, timeless, prescient and connected language of this land,

Kia manawanui, kia māia, kia arohanui.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Quit

I Quit

I’ve called time.
At the tender or ripe age of 60, this is it. Enough.
I quit.
There is huge freedom in being a quitter.
I’ve given up.
I’ve let go.
I’ve surrendered.
So What?

To quit in today’s world usually has a negative connotation. That’s interesting. A quitter who gives up is often seen as a failure.

But the very word quit comes from two great concepts; freedom and silence.

It’s latin.
quit1
/kwɪt/
Origin
Middle English (in the sense ‘set free’): from Old French quiter (verb), quite (adjective), from Latin quietus, past participle of quiescere ‘be still’, from quies ‘quiet’.

It is time to unravel all that I have thought was important over the past few decades, because most of it wasn’t.
And I think as a species, we humans have been overthinking our importance and shaping the world to our own detriment. That is why I am quitting, giving up, letting go and surrendering.

Phew, it does feel a great relief.

I have been so attached to getting it all right for so long. Trying to solve every freakin’ problem with my intellect. How arrogant is that? But most of us do it. We think if we nut everything out, we can solve any problem. Well, who decided whatever it was, was a problem in the first place!

So to coin a hugely overused cliché, what is the roadmap?
Well for a start there are two very colonizing, limiting words.

Road.
We would well do without them. They have so limited our horizons, the ways we navigate. Yeah I get they were designed to make it easier to get around, and in a certain time that was probably a good idea, as to navigate rugged terrain limited our movement and access to opportunities. But at what cost? Now the road rules and negates so many other ways of navigating our world, that are usually far more harmonious with other species and the natural world. Bugger the road.

And Maps.
Maps started out to make life easier, didn’t they? But maps have way out lived their usefulness after centuries of use to dominate, separate, colonise, divide, own, rule. You get my point. And anyway, there’s GPS.

So goodbye road, goodbye map.
I don’t want a roadmap for the future.
What I do want is to quit, to find freedom, quiet and silence.

The world is already going through so much crazy change, any map or any road you might have is going to be obsolete the moment you look at it.

The massive challenges we face, environmentally and socially have been on the cards for many many years.

The thing was, when people started to talk about the future and the opportunities and risks of globalization, the use of resources and the wicked problem or enormous potential of developing the developed, developing and under developed world, it all became an ideological or intellectual debate.

Debate. Now there is another outdated concept. Oh dear, and that has been the supposed basis of democracy in the world, debate. I am really not sure whether ‘debate’ is a useful process at all. It’s an adversarial clashing of egos more than anything else, and has the world always ended up a better place in the hands of those who won a debate?

So we were all getting it wrong trying to fix everything with our heads, our logic. So arrogant.

We had taught ourselves to distrust, disown and discredit our intuition. It was witchcraft, it was ropey, soft, vague, dangerous, woolly, feminine, dangerous, unproven, hugely risky.
Well was it, is it?

My intuition told me a long long time ago that we needed to live more harmoniously with each other and with nature. I didn’t have the data, and to be honest, quantitative data has never really been my thing. But I could sense we were pushing it. Stuff was going to wear out. Surely life on this planet has always been about cause and effect. You use things and people up too much, and things will bounce back. There will be an effect, there will be an impact, and the force may well be far greater than you thought.

So here we are. Pandemics. Storms. Busted infrastructure. Stuff running out. People not happy.

My aim is to do far far less.

I quit work. I quit recreation. I quit consuming.
Undoubtedly I will do a little of all these things.
But I will DO far far less, and aim to BE far far more.
Much more meditation every day.
Teaching myself to think less and less and less.
Teaching myself to reflect more and more and more.
Teaching myself to love more and more and more.
Teaching myself to practice Festina Lente, to hasten slowly.
To be in balance with action and stillness.
Hmmmmm.
Ahhhhhhhh.
That feels good.
I quit.

Building Story Mojo – Leadership in a Pandemic Age

Building Story Mojo – Leadership in a Pandemic Age

 

Never before in recent history have the communication skills of leaders been more important.

Since the coronavirus pandemic hit the world in early 2020, people from every walk of life and in every corner of the globe have struggled to understand what on earth was going on. We had no framework, no reference point, no practiced skills, knowledge or experience to navigate a pandemic that would rend the very fabric of our communities.

The shock and the fear was deep and wide. The shock waves and trauma are still around and going nowhere soon.

Households and workplaces scrambled hungrily for information from any source; what was really going on? Whose information could we trust? Social media, news media, our friends, our families, political or workplace leaders, our spiritual leaders, our fathers, our mothers, our sons or daughters? How could we tell what was true? Even now, what sources do we trust?
Can we trust science? Who has a hidden agenda?

Sharply contrasting communication styles have emerged. There was blame, attack, metaphors about battles, fights and war. There were also appeals to calm, unity and working together, metaphors such as ‘bubbles’. New Zealand Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern, whether you agree with her politics or not, was lauded by leaders from the right and the left for her excellent communication skills, and these centred around her powerful use of metaphor to tell a story.

Research shows on average we all use up to six metaphors every minute every day. Our lives and our communication is (to use yet another metaphor) riddled with metaphor.

They can have immense power and influence. Neuroscientists have found that substituting power verbs and metaphors can dramatically influence us in our experiences and decision making and how we see the truth. For example if we substitute the world ‘collision’ for ‘smash’ when witnessing a car ‘incident’ people’s estimates of how fast a vehicle is travelling can change dramatically. If the word ‘smash’ is used people estimate a higher speed, if the word collision is used they estimate a lower speed, unconsciously. As we are awash (another metaphor again for drama and emphasis!) with endless notifications across social news media, TV, radio,  audio, video, politicians, community leaders, neighbours and friends, navigating what is true and what is not is immensely challenging.

Sometimes even what might appear to be quite harmless metaphors can create fear and disempower. Talk of ‘waves’ of the pandemic can give a sense that it will be a never-ending force with no end. Contrast this with the use of a metaphor like ‘fire-fighting’ which can enable people to fell they have a sense of control over something that can be overcome.

There are pluses and minuses with the use of all metaphors. The most important thing is to be aware of their power and how you use them, and to change and adapt them for different circumstances.

Building story mojo with the use of metaphor is now a key tool in a 21st century leader’s tool kit.

There is an onus like never before on leaders to reflect deeply and clearly on the language they use, the stories they tell. What metaphors and stories are you using? Will they create fear, or calm? Will they call people to action, or disempower them?

In my upcoming workshop Story Mojo: Story Telling for Authentic Leadership we will explore metaphor and storytelling in depth. Join us to take your leadership communication to another level. http://www.andrewmelville.com/workshops/

Let’s Teach Side Hustle at School.

Let’s Teach Side Hustle at School.

 

Like many people growing up in the late 20th century, I was told at school and home that success looked like achieving well in education and work, focused around core subjects and career paths into professions or trades. There were set steps to follow, and you were always being measured against others and ranked. The measurements, metrics as we talk about today, were numeric, linear and quantitative. There was a cut off point where those with enough marks headed in one direction in life, and those with not enough marks headed somewhere else, usually to lower paid employment or perhaps no employment at all.

However, turns out my greatest successes in life have been my side hustles. But no one ever taught me that. When I was very young, I experimented with friends about making things to sell. It was a game. We made art, cookies, or perhaps even mud pies, and played shop, selling them to family or friends for a few cents. It was a little glimmer of what it might mean to be entrepreneurial and receive reward for something you made from your efforts. Later in life, products and services I have designed and delivered myself have been the most satisfying and the most lucrative.

But my education for this was only ever a game. This approach to creating things, selling or exchanging them, was certainly not on any school curriculum. And once in the work force, creating new ideas, products and services in most of my early roles was not valued whatsoever. You followed a set line, a set of formulas with parameters around delivering work and outcomes. Step outside of the set rules too much and you were reprimanded.

Today, I still see this continue. I have witnessed children in school, students in university, hungry to turn their ideas into realities that will benefit their families, communities, and themselves shut down time and time again. Many is the time I have seen an inspired student or graduate deflated as their enthusiasm, their vision and their creativity is shut down. They get told to follow the script in their career, if they can in fact find a job.

In the Māori and Pasifika world I have seen this frequently occur too with another twist. These students want their study and their research to go straight back to their whanau and community, and yet they get told their study is an ‘academic exercise’ and they do not get to deliver their ideas and have to turn to compromised roles in mainstream workplaces.

An entrepreneurial or creative spirit happens on the sidelines.

In 2020 as traditional jobs disappear in the thousands and kids have spent half the year out of school, what new alternatives can we look at to fulfil on dreams, to source an income, and to ‘make a living’ in the true sense of the word? (Interesting how we default to thinking about cash when we talk about ‘making a living’ rather than giving this phrase a broader intent!) I’m pretty damn sure that professional roles for life are on the way out for good.

The power base of the tired old professions of accountancy, law, medicine and engineering are less and less relevant in today’s world. Many of the services offered by these professions you can now google, or manage yourself. I see more and more of the traditional firms resort to fear tactics as they desperately try to remain relevant, inculcating a risk averse business culture, telling the population that it is very dangerous to do without a lawyer, an accountant, an engineer or a doctor. It is tragic that many parents, teachers, academics, business and government leaders still push these professions as the pinnacle of achievement. And in so doing they’re selling their children and their children’s children a very dud deal.

Maybe it is a bad idea to try and quantify and systemise something as creative as a side hustle. But then again maybe we should honour, celebrate and encourage rangatahi today to have a few strings to their bow, to experiment with technology and creativity, with science and with art, and where all these often sidelined endeavours intersect. I once teased an old friend with a strict socialist ideology that the best thing I could ever teach my children growing up was how to write an invoice. And I wasn’t kidding. Writing an invoice can give you many things; an awareness of business, financial literacy, self sufficiency, self worth. I know for myself writing an invoice for my services is very satisfying and empowering.

Let’s pivot, no in fact lets pirouette, to put the entrepreneurship of the creative and tech sectors at the forefront alongside sustainable uses of the land and our beautiful resources, to grow food and shelter. Is it timely to change out what has been seen as the ultimate professions.  Let’s honour the collective, the diverse skills in our communities. It is time to move away from hierarchies that values certain human attributes above others.

Kia Manawanui, Kia Kaha, Kia Māia.

 

Love in the Time of Cholera- The Opportunity of COVID 19

Love in the Time of Cholera- The Opportunity of COVID 19

It is hard to see it when so much seems bleak, but the chaos, disruption and fear we are experiencing in this pandemic can give rise to re-discovering better ways to live and work.

There are viral aspects of the COVID-19 that go far beyond the physical illness and risk of death.  It is being felt in what might seem to be completely unconnected and unrelated environments. It is being felt economically, culturally, environmentally and socially. It is affecting relationships, income, wellbeing, work and home pressures far beyond its physical presence in a community. I see the fear in my family, and I have already experienced many thousands of dollars’ worth of work cancelled or put on hold indefinitely.

This is what viruses do. They spread across networks, at a pace and in directions we find hard to keep track of. And this in turn leads to fear.

We fear what we cannot control. We fear what is uncertain. Fear has been a driving force for survival deep in our primal make up and our physiology throughout our evolution as a species.

Mastering fear is something as critical today as in any time in our history.

The difference is that today we have a greater set of tools than ever before to master fear. We can utilise science and technology, and couple it with a greater understanding and behaviours as socially aware and conscious human beings. We can be pragmatic and empathic in equal measures, but it can seem that the latter is trickier to master.

What is the opportunity that COVID-19 offers for us to live more harmoniously, more sustainably and more mindfully?

For a start some of the sensible measures being outlined are things that we should be doing anyway, regardless of the threat of contracting the virus.

  • When I hear leaders in businesses telling their staff to stay at home if they feel at all unwell, or staying away even if they feel like they are coming down with something, is that not a good practice all the time?
  • When it comes to having a sensible amount of food and resources to be self- sufficient in our homes, is that not a good practice all the time?
  • When it comes to eating well and taking measures to boost our immune systems, is that not a good practice all the time?
  • When it comes to offering leadership that allows people to make choices about things such as travelling for work if they feel unsafe, and questioning how often we need to travel for work, is that not a good practice all the time?
  • When it comes to taking greater care with hygiene in public places and moving around our connected globalised world, is that not a good practice all the time?

In a crisis, or under threat, we’d like to think that we would always rise to the occasion and do the right thing by others. But in reality, do we know whether we will stand up, or run,  attack or blame?

Dealing with fear and responding to it, when the impacts are so very uncertain, is more about simple practical steps than heroic gestures. It is about offering generosity and empathy however the fear, the response or reactions are occurring.

I am saddened by the panicked reactions I see, as it seems a great deal of fear is lying just under the surface for many people. And tragically there are some rather crazy memes flying through social and news media that fuel the fear.

How can we enable people to deal with fear in such uncertain times?

Again it is about simple practical actions, taking care of others.

Sure this has to be done mindfully, and hugs and kisses may be rather off limits.

But we can be caring of others in times of fear in little ways, random unsolicited acts of kindness, making and sharing food, offering to do chores for others… it is the simple day to day things.

Caring in Te Ao Māori is enshrined within the concept of manaakitanga, a broad and deep way of caring, connecting, welcoming, and including.

There are many ‘little ways’ within manaakitanga that enable wellness and belonging.

Communication that connects in a ‘little way’ taking time can be simply to ask how others are, and to simply listen, without judgement and without trying to solve their issues. It can be small home made gifts, cooking, carrying out simple chores for others.

  • When we see or hear someone exhibiting fear, we can practice empathy through accepting who they are, and not try and talk them out of their fear or tell them that they are wrong to be fearful. Empathy is about listening more and talking less.
  • Fear can be very abstract about what ‘might’ happen in the future. We can support fearful people in fear by putting our energies into the present moment, and focusing our activity and thoughts on the present moment, rather than speculating about what might or might not be around the corner.
  • We can support people to take actions to build immunity in mind and body, through diet and supplements, taking time to relax, walk in nature, practicing calming breathing and mindfulness techniques. Check:  artofliving.org.nz  and  www.mindfulnessauckland.co.nz

The practical measures outlined above are things that good leaders will already be carrying out. And here I must name check Mark Templeton, CEO of Aeroqual. It was a rich and caring conversation with Mark and my colleague Peter Roband that sowed the seed for this article, and in fact the title came from Mark.

What I took from those two wonderful men was that our mindsets as well as our skillsets are so important to take care of in tough times. It is very easy to default to making a self-fulfilling prophecy out of the impacts, and talk ourselves into a crisis or a drama even when we do not need to.

The best leadership right now is that which offers a way forward with compassion and empathy;  building our immunity, our resilience, our courage and sustaining our wellbeing.

And for those who must always have the bottom line in sight from a quantitative point of view, people who are well in mind and heart as well as body create better results. It is a ‘no brainer’ and a ‘yes hearter’.

As the Nobel Prize winning author, Gabriel Garcia Marquez wrote in Love in the Time of Cholera, “ Think of love not as the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.”

What’s Bad About Things Being ‘All Good’?

There’s three popular phrases I hear and also use frequently.

“All Good”, “Sweet As”, and “It is What It Is.”

In the right context they are harmless and sometimes gentle phrases that are about accepting things as they are right now.

If someone says” How’s everything going?” The reply can be ‘all good’, or ‘sweet as.’

 

It is all about the context. Sometimes these phrases are exactly the right thing to say and name what is really going on. They can put people at ease, create connection, unity, and equilibrium.

But how often does this actually gloss over things that are not quite right?

Are we sweeping things under the carpet when we declare things are ‘all good’ or ‘sweet as’?

But how often have these expressions crossed over to being an automatic response to everything whether it is good or bad, running smoothly, in conflict, or challenging?

Is it resignation, or is it acceptance when someone uses the phrase ‘it is what it is’ ?

I think it can be both. But it is ‘good’ to know the difference.

I was watching a Netflix series early this morning, and it suddenly came to me how much my years of consumption of television, feature films and video has deeply influenced my perception of time.

Everything is edited so there is momentum with very little down time. We have an expectation that ‘something is going to happen’. Film makes talk about creating a beat to ensure momentum and rhythm, as we do in poetry and music. In itself that is not a bad thing. But most of what we consume day to day via visual media sets a pace, that is quite at odds with how time really passes in most of our lives.

How boring would a film or Netflix series be if it included people circling round and round to find a parking spot, or waiting on hold for a call centre to respond to a request, or waiting in a queue to be served.

Of course we edit all this stuff out of the stories for media.

So really that’s fine if we know that is what is going on. But I have succumbed often to the hyper-reality that time will pass in my own life the same way it does in these fictions.

I am teaching myself now the art of doing nothing, of having ‘downtime’ be as valuable as active time.   I look to have this more in balance the same way it is used in resistance training in physical workouts.

In The Weave, we focus a lot on the intersections we come across in our interactions; the knots, the twists and turns that make up a weaving. It is the intersections where everything is held together. But it is held in a tension; too tight and the fabric is constricted and uneven. Too loose and it is full of holes and not held together.

Our approach to life can be much the same, through dark and light, through good and bad. The times of stillness and inaction inform and fuel the action, while the times of action fulfil through momentum.

It is much the same with the very essence of our lives, our breathe. We breathe in to energise, and we breathe out to relax. We would not live without both.

Our self observation and acceptance of the twists and turns is both the art and the science of living.

So when we are at peace with the yin and the yang of the light and the dark, the good and the bad, the stillness and the movement, we can say that things are All Good, Sweet As, and It is What It Is.