The door of our local pharmacy, a couple of days after the COVID-19 health emergency was declared in March 2020.
Journal entries from March 12 and 13, 2020, remembering the first days of lock down and the day that the world changed. I started keeping a decisions journal to track the things I was doing and why. Here are the first two days of entries.
March 12, 2020 Newxlelexwm Bowen Island.
Cancellations. Of everything.
First coaching call with a client about how to bring their events online. Systems awareness helps us to bring our capacities on line.
Me. Feeling generally well. Slight dry cough, small sniffle. I am acting now as if I have COVID-19 and trying to be publically minded.
World is a swirling system of ephemeral attractors. Nothing has deepened yet. Seems like the potential is very open. Hoping it stays that way for a while.
March 13, 2020 Nexwlelexwm Bowen Island
Scenario planning helped me get ahead of travel decisions informed by reliable information with weak signals, incorporating all that into plausible decision making.
Dr. Hayley Wickenheiser: “control what you can, let go of what you can’t.”
Pattern entrainment: noticed that I kind of treated this like a storm – it will pass; do I just ride it out? Watching friends abroad thinking this way. But clinging to the possibility that things might shift in good ways.
Imposing constraints: acting as if you have it, changes behaviours. Found that way to make me more publically-minded.
There is grief. Small losses of timelines we have to let go of. There will be more grief coming.
Watching the application of constraints. Adopt good heuristics or external constraints with force action.
Adaptive action is a “choose your own adventure.”
Think broadly. Don’t do things that might require a hospital visit.
Symptoms chart is useful for monitoring self.
Seriousness from stories of sports leagues being cancelled.
Flattening the curve becomes the key way to think about it – wait as long as you can to get sick. Avoid crowds, wash hands, social distance.
Today – beauty – Italians singing, poems.
I think it was 1986-87 academic year that I truly fell in love with the idea of culture. That was the year I began my BA in Indigenous Studies at Trent University and it was during a time when Indigenous cultures in Canada were going through a generational resurgence after recovering from 100 years of state-sponsored cultural, physical and intellectual extinction. I was able to be a witness to communities and organizations recovering by growing deep into traditional practices, and younger generations receiving the teaching of Elders and using them to create new political movements, organizations, economies, governments, and health and well being in their communities. I loved the idea of culture as the ground for this work and loved watching people work with it, and indeed being a part of cultural shifts and and catalysis. Culture was like magic. It appeared bigger than all of us, it shifted and changed and it enabled things to happen. Or not.
I so fell in love with culture that I did an honours thesis in my fifth year that compared two national Indigenous organizations in their attempts to root their operations and structures in traditional cultures. One did it by using artifacts and trappings and firm structures that ended in arguments about orthodoxies and heartbreak, and the other did it by creating a relational, caring, and connected context in which a unique but thoroughly Indigenous way of being emerged.
So early on I learned that culture is emergent, that it transcends individuals and specific artifacts and practices, that it is a context that shapes relationships and behaviours and that it is the product of relationships and interactions over time. Norms of behaviour can’t be dictated, they can only arise.
Since then I would say that the heart of my work with organizations and communities has been working with culture. The sources of joy and the sources of pain are the multiples contexts in which we live our lives. I’ve worked in one-off settings and multi-year large scale systemic settings. I’ve worked with large teams and with little groups of change-makers. And we’ve tried it all, from magic methods to the “this will finally solve it” conference, to multi-year narrative sense-making projects. I’ve spent decades surfing the rise and fall of supporter culture around the soccer teams I’ve been a part of. I’ve spent nearly 25 years living on an island with its own unique slant on the world, creating social enterprises, supporting community economic development and making community through music and play.
About a year ago on the Art of Hosting Facebook group someone asked about changing culture in a very large organization and which methods are best. For some reason that post appeared in the feed that I rarely check, and I responded to it. But because I’m never going to send you to Facebook, I thought I would catch this sketchy set of insights and share them here. This is a back of the napkin kind of list, but these are truths that I will no longer doubt in my work with organizations and communities. So here’s what I’ve learned about “culture change.”
- It takes years.
- Your work will be non-linear and unpredictable.
- All states are temporary.
- If it is necessary for senior leaders champion and support change work, it will only be sustained as long as they don’t succumb to their anxiety and fear of uncertainty and unpredictability.
- You cannot change culture directly, but you can work to change the way people interact with one another and see what kind of culture emerges as a result.
- Learning together is often a good way to approach many different strategic and cultural issues in an oblique and open way.
- If change of any kind in the organization or sector is predicated on the people needing to transform and be different then you are colonizing people. Don’t do that.
- Whatever you think is happening is only ever a part of the full picture.
- Whatever you think you have accomplished is only ever a piece of what you have actually done.
- It will never go according to plan.
Mindfulness, awareness and the move from confusion to aporia to resourcefulness in the Cynefin framework.
Thomas Homer-Dixon writing in the Globe and Mail this weekend:
Constitutive moments are a special kind of historical inflection point. Powerful actors like U.S. presidents always operate within a constellation of macro-trends, cultures, institutions, and social and political alliances. But during constitutive moments, they have a rare opportunity to radically reconfigure that constellation because the usual constraints on selecting from, combining, and adjusting its elements are greatly weakened. The systems they’re operating within are abnormally susceptible to massive change.
Leaders who effectively exploit these opportunities can create not just profoundly new ways of doing things, but also new ways of seeing things. A constitutive moment shifts our deepest understandings of the world and its possibilities, and to the extent that these understandings partially create the world around us, it shifts our world’s essence itself
I’m coming back from nearly 2 weeks working in the United States and I would be lying if it didn’t feel like it was a little bit like watching the film of people enjoying the last few minutes of their holiday before the tsunami hit Indonesia in 2004. I’m not sure if the foreboding dread I feel for my friends and colleagues in the States is an over-reaction, or whether I’m not taking it seriously enough. I think Homer-Dixon‘s article captures it quite well. It’s a constitutive moment, and what that means remains to be seen, but I’m reading articles about the fragility of Canada and our inability to meet what’s coming without strong and visionary leadership. I’m reading articles and opinions I never imagined would appear in mainstream newspapers. I see that we are at a loss. Mired in the apprentice moment.
The people we’ve been working with over the past two weeks, in academic institutions in Texas, and community organizations, and foundations, and frontline agencies in Alaska, are the best people. They are the folks that will be present for what’s coming. They are the ones who are always extending care, who are putting the best interests of their students and clients and colleagues front and center. I leave them feeling concern and love and admiration for them. Many are scared. Some are ready. Others are welcoming this moment. It’s not simple.
We truly have no idea what is coming. And so I leave this montage of four images which I took on a walk around downtown Seattle on Saturday, and which captured my mood and the feeling of the city on a beautiful cold, perfectly clear, January 18, 2025.
The set up for the weekly staff meeting at the Alaska Humanities Forum offices in Anchorage.
We spent the day yesterday with our colleagues at the Alaska Humanities Forum (AKHF) preparing for the Art of Hosting that begins this morning. AKHF is an organization that has long embraced the Art of Hosting as a way of operating both their internal organizational functions and their relationship and gatherings with their partners and programs. All over the world there are organizations like this, not always obvious or seen by the global Art of Hosting community, because they labour away on their own work. But until the pandemic every staff member of this organization was sent south for an Art of Hosting once they were hired on. It has been six years since that happened so we are here to partly fulfill that need and to work with several of their partners.
What’s great about this is Kameron Perez-Verdia is on our team. As President and CEO of the organization, he is embodies the practices of participatory leadership which he first learned at a Shambala Institute Authentic Leadership in Action workshop back in 2008 with Toke, Monica and myself. Kameron was raised in the whaling village of Utqiagvik, which is the most northerly point in Alaska. We talked a lot yesterday about the kinds of community gatherings that take place there when the whale hunting crews bring in humpbacks for the community. We talked about the importance of presences and check ins in meetings and how that grounded start to important work is a critical aspect of every part of day to day life, from whaling to a staff meeting in Anchorage.
Kameron and I were talking about the balance between chaos and order yesterday as we were exploring how we could teach the four-fold practice together and he shared with me a term that Yupik elders had taught him about dynamic balance: Yuluni pitallkeqtuglluni, which translates roughly as “just enough to live a good life.” It refers to the amount of connection that we need in a gathering or community, or the amount of structure in a meeting or a process to bring about a feeling of family (tuglluni means family) but allows for agency. We talked about “balance” which in the Yupik world is not a stable equilibrium between two competing forces, but a dynamic, constantly sensed state that is reposnsive to the context.
Perhaps this will be come a theme of our work in the next three days, but it’s a helpful way to contextualize the practices of the Art of Hosting: presence, participation, hosting and co-creating. Each of these are context dependant, which is why they are practices. Bringing just enough to live a good life is the art that implicit in the name of the practice “Art of Hosting.” While many folks seek a stable, always applicable tool or way of doing things, the art of hosting or participatory leadership is about the application of a world of practice to an ever changing context. In being sensitive to what is needed, and how to do it depending on conditions, we constantly create the right balancing moment between too much and not enough, just enough to live a good life.
We start in 2 hours.