My birthday seemed an auspicious date to launch my new eBook - The Rebel’s Guide to Leadership.

The book weaves together stories from my personal rebel journey as co-founder and former principal of Matahui School in NZ with new theories of leadership and education. My purpose in writing the book is to encourage people to take a stand on things that matter to them, to challenge the status quo if necessary, to do what they can to help create a more compassionate, just and sustainable world. If you're uncomfortable with the idea of leadership, you may like Meg Wheatley’s definition of a leader as ‘anyone who is willing to help’.

In publishing The Rebel’s Guide to Leadership, I'm raising my rebel flag against the traditional, hierarchical leadership model, and also our society’s emphasis on achievements, affluence and appearance. Our culture has become so externally-focused, too many of us become disconnected from our own hearts and deepest values.

You can find out more about the book and download a free chapter here​.

Imagine  
 
Imagine with me for a moment –
don’t worry, I’m not saying it’s real.
Imagine, if you can, that there has been
not a calamity, but a great awakening.
Pretend, just for a moment,
that we so loved our threatened earth
that we stopped going on cruises,
limited international flights,
worked on cherishing the places
where we already are.
In this pretty fantasy, everyone who possibly can
stops commuting. Spends the extra time
with their kids or pets or garden.
We have the revelation that everyone
needs health care, sick leave, steady work.
It occurs to us that health care workers
are heroes.  Also teachers.
Not to mention artists of all kinds
who teach us resilience and joy.
Imagine, if you will,
that we turned to our neighbours
in mutual aid, trading eggs for milk,
checking on those who are elderly
or alone. Imagine that each of us
felt suddenly called to wonder
In this moment, what does the world
Need from me? What are my gifts?
Yes, I know it’s just a fantasy.
The world would never change
So radically overnight.
But imagine.
 
Lynn Ungar

On Saturday, at our final Circle of Trust retreat for the year, we considered the lovely paradox of giving and receiving, how giving and receiving can be simultaneous and interconnected acts, like breathing in and breathing out.  How we can’t have one without the other.  The idea that in giving, we receive.  In receiving we give.

Lots of joy and laughter was shared, and also a few tears, as we recalled the best gifts we have given in our lives, and the best gifts we have received.

For many of us, giving comes easily and naturally.  Receiving, on the other hand, can be more challenging.   

Perhaps this is because giving is linked to generosity, a desired virtue. 

Receiving isn’t usually seen in the same light though.  Receiving is often thought of as simply getting something.  It has a more ‘selfish’ connotation, which may be why many of us find it more difficult to receive, or to ask for something.  We don’t want to be seen as selfish or self-serving.

I’ve come to recognise this in myself, how I can too quickly brush off offers of help, even compliments, without considering them, not allowing them to penetrate an invisible wall I’ve created.  This may also be because I’m one of those people who likes to be capable and in control.  So, for me, there is also a sense of vulnerability that comes with receiving or asking for help. 
 
     What gets in the way of receiving for you? 
     What gets in the way of giving?

We humans are complex beings, and a comfortable relationship with giving and receiving may continue to be a work-in-progress.   But this is important inner work, because it offers a deepening understanding of our interdependence.  Giving and receiving are at the heart of our life-giving human connection, our need for each other.

Which leads to a couple more questions …..

     Can we give in a way that makes receiving easy?
     Can we receive in a way that makes giving easy?

Giving and receiving are at the heart of the Circle of Trust approach, which is based on the work of writer, teacher and social activist Parker J. Palmer.  In a Circle of Trust we give and receive the gift of welcome and non-judgement, we give and receive the gift of deep listening, we give and receive the gift of invitation and non-invasion, we give and receive the gift of silence and space for personal reflection and renewal.

The principles and practices we learn in a Circle of Trust can go with us into our personal and professional lives to help us grow and sustain trustworthy relationships and be more effective and resilient in the face of life's changes and challenges. 
 
If you'd like to experience a Circle of Trust retreat, please check out my 2020 calendar of day retreats.  And of course, you're welcome to contact me if you’d like to know more. 

Meanwhile I send you warm wishes for a restful and renewing break over the Christmas period, for happy times with loved ones, doing the things that sustain you and bring joy to your life.

Clearing

Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create
a clearing
in the dense forest
of your life
and wait there
patiently,
until the song
that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know
how to give yourself
to this world
so worthy of rescue.

Martha Postlewaite

Do you sometimes wish for a small clearing in your life - a space where you can unplug for a time from life’s busyness and constant demands? 

Space where you’re able to reflect on the big questions you hold about your life and work?  To reflect on the people and causes you care deeply about.  To recharge your batteries and renew your sense of purpose.
 
Life today is so complex, demanding and fast-changing that we need to carve out clearings like this in our lives.  A regular commitment to reflective practice and personal development helps strengthen our resilience and well-being, and our capacity to lead more, authentic, meaningful and engaged lives, both personally and professionally. 

Due to popular demand, I'm bringing the Courage Way series of one-day retreats to Auckland.  These Circle of Trust retreats, based on the work of writer/teacher Parker J. Palmer, offer trustworthy and supportive space for personal and professional reflective practice.
 
So this is an invitation to create some clearings in your year ahead  - time for you to pause, reflect and recharge your batteries.

You can attend individual days or take advantage of the generous discount and register for the series.  Each retreat will highlight and explore a fundamental principle of the Circle of Trust approach.   All five themes will be woven into each retreat because in a Circle of Trust they can't really be separated, but we will approach each day through a particular lens.  

The Courage Way Retreats:
How to live & lead with integrity                          Saturday 16 November 2019
How to create trustworthy space                          Saturday 15 February 2020
How to listen deeply & question well                   Saturday 16 May 2020
How to embrace paradox & transform conflict  Saturday 1 August 2020
Reflective practice in community                         Saturday 14 November 2020

You can find further details about the individual retreats at the links above.

The principles and practices you learn in a Circle of Trust can go with you into your personal and professional lives to help you grow and sustain trustworthy relationships and be more effective and resilient in the face of life's changes and challenges.  While each retreat is a stand-alone event, registration for the series offers you the opportunity to become part of a trustworthy and supportive community for personal and professional reflective practice.

If you'd like further information, please contact me.

A Small Needful Fact
Is that Eric Garner worked
for some time for the Parks and Rec.
Horticultural Department, which means,
perhaps, that with his very large hands,
perhaps, in all likelihood,
he put gently into the earth
some plants which, most likely,
some of them, in all likelihood,
continue to grow, continue
to do what such plants do, like house
and feed small and necessary creatures,
like being pleasant to touch and smell,
like converting sunlight
into food, like making it easier
for us to breathe.
 
Ross Gay
Copyright © 2015 by Ross Gay. Reprinted from Split This Rock’s The Quarry: A Social Justice Poetry Database.

This beautiful poem reminds me that everything we do matters.  Regardless of how small or insignificant it may seem – a smile, a helping hand,  perhaps deciding to speak up at a meeting - we have no idea of the potential impact of each small and well-intentioned gesture, of the ripples of impact that might spread from one small beginning. 

When we live and lead our lives with integrity, drawing on our gifts as Eric Garner did, doing the things that feel right for us to do, or we feel called to do, we may set in motion a whole ecosystem of life-giving potential.
 

We look with uncertainty
beyond the old choices
for clear-cut answers
to a softer, more permeable aliveness
which is every moment at the brink of death;
for something new is being born in us
 if we but let it.
We stand at a new doorway,
awaiting that which comes . . .
daring to be human creatures,
vulnerable to the beauty of existence.
 Learning to love.
—Anne Hillman -
 

Mary Oliver’s poems are imbued with the mystery and wonder of nature.  They stem from her close and deep attention to the marvels she observes on her daily meditative walks in nature.   Mary Oliver’s poetry and this wee snippet above remind me of school field trips to the rocky shore, when I was principal of Matahui School, where learning outside the classroom, and learning from nature, are central.

The very first activity for each child was to choose a comfortable position, somewhere on their own beside a rock pool, and they were to simply sit there – very quietly - very still - and they were to do nothing but observe their pool.

For five full minutes. 

Which is a long time for a child to sit without moving or saying a word.  In fact we would practise this at school beforehand in preparation for the outing.

For this was the key to unlocking the magic and wonder of the rocky shore for the children; for them to gain the most learning from the experience.  As the observers sat there, as still and quiet as the rocks themselves, the sea life within each pool would decide that it was now safe for them to resume their daily business, and the pools would proceed to come to life.   Myriads of sea life, normally unseen when people are clambering about on the rocks, would begin to move about in their own particular way, doing their own particular thing, for their own particular purpose.  All shapes and sizes, some very tiny and easy to miss without paying close attention.  

And there was so much else to notice within the rock pool - the intricate structures of the plant life, the details and colours of the rocks and shells.  It was enthralling to watch, and once the show began, it was suddenly easier to simply sit and observe.  It was a lesson in paying attention and mindfulness, and this was years before mindfulness became the catchphrase it is today.

The children learned so much more from this activity than the adaptive features of plants and animals.  They also learned about the wonder and beauty of nature, the interdependence of the rock pool community with each other and their shared environment, and how important it is that we treat these  rock pool ‘homes’ and their inhabitants with deep care and respect.   

All very important universal understandings that apply on so many levels in the wider world beyond the rocky shore.

And so back to Mary Oliver, and her gift of observing and learning from nature and beautifully capturing and sharing important universal truths, as she does in her poem Invitation:
​

​I offer some questions as a guide for your reflections.  Or you may wish to go in other directions the poem takes you.
 

• What hopes, dreams and visions have you carried with you?
• What seeds have you planted?
• What has come to fruition?
• What joys and challenges have you experienced?
• Where do you need more patience in your life?
• What do you wish to carry forward?
• What do you choose to let go of?

 
Meanwhile I’m sending out warm wishes for a restful and renewing holiday break, for happy times with loved ones, doing the things that sustain you and bring joy to your life.  

I've been thinking a lot about Time lately - how no one seems to have enough of it, and everyone bemoans the lack of it.  Yet today, being busy seems to have become a social badge of achievement.   We like to tell each other how busy we are. 

What worries me is that when we get too caught up in the surface everyday whirl of our lives, we risk losing deeper connections - important connections - vital even - connection with Self; with others; with nature; connection with the wonder and mystery that life holds.

I believe that many of the personal, social, economic and environmental problems we face across our world today stem from the loss of one or more of these vital connections. Finding the solutions will begin with re-discovering connection.

My blog post today has turned into a poem of sorts.....

Time Out
When did life become a race? 
A race to first up the ladder,
to become the best, the busiest,
to acquire and do the most.
 
When did time become a scarcity?
A thing to be saved and guarded
and meagerly doled out  
into the timetable that is our life.
 
When did leisure time stop being leisurely? 
When did we start cramming our moments
for fun, for friends and family,
into schedules with too few gaps?
 
When did we forget how to wait?
To want everything the world offers and Now.
 
When did we forget that it takes time,
generous time,
to create, to achieve, to connect
to do good things that are truly worth doing.
 
When did exhaustion, overwhelm and burnout become everyday words?
 
And when is someone going to call Time Out?
 
Time for stillness, for rest, for open space,
time for taking stock of our lives
what we’re doing
where we’re going
the things that truly matter to each of us
on our journeys.
 
​
Mennie Scapens

 ​Many years ago I worked as personal assistant to a very difficult Financial Manager. Lao Tzu would have had a thing or two to say about him.  This man had an ego the size of a house.  He seemed to enjoy undermining and unsettling his staff, as though needing to constantly re-affirm his own superiority by making us all feel incompetent.  Today, we’d call him a bully.

In order to survive, my own ego came into play, and work came to feel more like a competition, which I spent my days trying to win.  I did everything I could to always appear cool, calm and competent, never asking for help or giving him any suggestion that I mightn’t understand something.  Even when that something  was completely new to me.  I worked around him as much as possible, because direct dealings often resulted in a bruised ego.  Mine, not his.   But the worst aspect, I think, was watching how he undermined my colleagues, particularly the junior staff, noticing how he damaged them, left them questioning their own sense of worth. 

Lao Tzu’s definition of a ‘wicked leader’ sums up this manager perfectly.  He was truly disliked by his people.  He created a culture of fear where there was no place for personal vulnerability or honesty. Needless to say, I didn't last long at that job, though when I made the decision to leave after only six months in the position, it felt to me like a personal failure.  He’d won and I’d lost.  At the same time, though, I realised that it was the organisation that had lost the most.

An extreme example of poor leadership, perhaps, but one that illustrates the nature of ego and how it can drive our behaviour through fear, desire and ambition.  An organisational culture that requires its people to always appear strong, objective and goal-focused will operate with an undercurrent of fear. Egos flourish in these environments because they’re all about having to look good in the eyes of others.  The need to be seen as successful, important, competent.  Competition will flourish also, because winning looks good, it strokes our ego, and it helps us feel good.  But it’s important to remember that this emphasis on outward appearances masks the true fears beneath.  Fear of failure.  Fear of not looking the part.  Fear of not belonging.  

The problem is that when our behaviour is driven by what others think of us, or what we look like, or what we manage to achieve, we will look outwards, not inwards, when making decisions.  We ignore, and risk losing touch with those deeper parts of ourselves where we're able to access our inner truth, our feelings and intuition, our values and beliefs. 

When we're able to step back from our ego and see it as a separate part of ourselves, we’re better able to recognise and control our ego-driven fears.  As I said in my last blog entry Head versus Heart, once we’re freed from the controlling influence of the ego, we find we have the courage to show up in the world with all of ourselves, with our strengths and weaknesses, our successes and failures.  With fear out of the way, trust is able to flourish, and we’re more likely to connect with a deeper sense of purpose in life and the courage to stand up and strive for what we believe in.