Thursday 29 August 2013

Humility


HUMILITY – The Way To Go

Andy Taylor

As the story goes, “I was awarded a badge for humility but, as soon as I wore it, they took it away again.”  Humility is not a subject one can easily talk about from personal experience unless one is confessing one’s lack of it.  It is an attribute that is certainly appealing in other people, but is it a quality to be valued in our modernist society?  Certainly, it is not something that seems to be rated highly by Sir Alan Sugar and his would-be employees in The Apprentice.  But is that the example to which we want our up and coming generation to aspire?

For the Christian, true(!) humility is a vital ingredient for a fulfilling life.  In fact, if one reads the teachings of Jesus in the New Testament, one quickly discovers that, in the Kingdom of God, the way up is down:

-          “He that is greatest among you must be servant of all”

-          “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life (for my sake) will find it.”

-          “The first shall be last and the last shall be first”

Later on, the apostle Peter reminds us that, “God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble.  Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God that he may exalt you in due time.”

 

I was taking a school assembly recently and, to illustrate a point, I organised the children to take part in a limbo competition.  As the music played the bar moved gradually down towards the floor,  the winner being the child who managed to bend the lowest.  It was an interesting illustration of how counter-cultural God’s ways are.  In our world where young people are actively encouraged, through programmes such as The Apprentice, to push themselves forward, get to the top and gain recognition, Godly principles teach us to do exactly the opposite.  Why on earth should it be better to lower ourselves than elevate ourselves?

To be humble has nothing to do with intellect, social position or wealth.  It transcends all of these.  Humility is as much an attitude as an action.  A multi-millionaire can be humble.  An Oxbridge Professor with a Nobel Prize can be humble.  A monarch can be humble.  This latter idea was beautifully illustrated at the 60th anniversary of our Queen’s reign earlier this year.  During the commemorative service the Archbishop of Canterbury reminded us in his sermon about something that took place at the beginning of the Queen’s coronation in 1954.  When she arrived at Westminster Abbey, the bare-headed princess’s sparkling dress was covered with a cloak.  She proceeded towards the throne, the symbol of her power and authority, but .…..she walked straight past it and knelt at the altar to pray.  This woman who was to rule a vast Commonwealth and receive honour and adulation all her life went first to kneel humbly before God in a gesture symbolic of humility and service.  Several years earlier, on her 21st birthday, she had publicly pledged to serve all her life “whether it be long or short”.  Well, it has been long – and she has served.  Even a queen can be humble at heart.

One helpful definition of humility is “to have a modest opinion of one’s own importance”.  It is the opposite of pride.  The urge to be humble makes sense for someone with a faith in God and an eternal perspective.  There is a reward awaiting those who are humble in life.  But for someone with no faith in God or acknowledgement of a life beyond the physical one, it must at first seem pointless to be humble.  There seems to be no advantage to it.  Without the notion of being “exalted in due time”, “the first shall be last”, etc. why consider others better than yourself?  Why not put yourself first?  Why lower yourself when you can elevate yourself?  Without an eternal perspective the advantages aren’t obvious. 

The Cambridge physicist, Sir John Polkinghorne, once said, “All true scientific discovery begins with wonder!”  Wonder and Humility are good friends.  Together, they lift off us the pressure to perform and enable us to step back and contemplate awhile.  They open the door to creative thinking.  They also open the door to another valuable attribute – Wisdom.

Conversely, the adage “pride comes before a fall” (originating from the Book of Proverbs) is more than just clever words.  We have often seen the devastating fall from grace of a public figure who has gloried in his/her fame and position.  There is no need to name them.  Surely, such people would subsequently have wished in earnest that they had shown humility in the first place.  When you are very low, there isn’t far to fall.  And have you noticed who is the most content?  Most often it is those who are looking out for the well-being of others.  There is surely nothing more rewarding.

Andy Taylor

Having completed a D.Phil at Sussex University in Neutron Physics, Andy moved to Basingstoke with his young family in 1978 to work in Medical Engineering   Andy has also been a leader within Basingstoke Community Churches since 1980, joining to the full-time staff in 1989.  He has led several of the BCCs congregations but he presently spends most of his time developing projects with churches across the town to serve the local community. 

Wednesday 31 July 2013

Forgiveness and Peace - Last Thoughts, by Claire Genkai


Forgiveness and peace

A few years ago I sat a very extended retreat in my monastery on the theme of contemplative care of the dying. It was a collaboration between clinicians and contemplatives. It was also a very deep experiential process, using meditation practices to face into the end of ones life.  Despite this there was a lot of tender laughter and humour in amongst the silence, listening and exploration.

At one point in the process we were asked to walk very slowly and consciously though our lives and to focus on aspects of our behaviour and relationships that we would rather turn away from. As I write this now I realise that a meditation like this is not for the faint hearted! I spent a large part of three hours in a state of reminiscence and appreciation, captivated by emerging memories. Eventually as I settled I found myself facing into elements of my own life that frankly I would have preferred not to look at again.

The slow growth of sensations associated with regret emerged. Faced with no one to listen to my justifications, no ‘reasonable reasons’ to tell myself or others; I simply had to sit with the undefended truth of my behaviour. Regret had a certain palette to it I discovered. There were physical sensations akin to anxiety, heat in my neck and face, occasionally some tears and a feeling of smallness as if any ego or pride that might inflate me was absent.

I don’t know how long that went on for. I only remember that by maintaining simple focus and then alternating with bringing loving kindness to myself as much as I was able, there was a sense of regret dissolving away in me and eventually around some of the issues I faced into; I could experience an inner quiet.

In that moment I experienced a distinction between guilt and regret. I realised that guilt was a loud story focussed on my discomforted feelings about what I had done. It was compelling and rather self absorbed. Regret on the other hand had an altogether different quality of focussing on the other and on the unskilled nature of my behaviour. It felt less elaborate but quietly more painful. I came to think of regret as the core often wrapped up in my elaborate guilt trips.

Now you might be wondering at this point what all of this has to do with the theme of forgiveness and peace? Or maybe you have already seen exactly where my experience took me?

Over that three hours and for many moments subsequently I came to experience what it is to face into regret, to let the stories and self serving habitual sensations of guilt drop away, and to offer myself forgiveness for my lack of skill. Each time I was able to move towards that state of embodied forgiveness, the act of placing a metaphorical hand over my heart/mind, I noticed a deep peace. The kind of peace that comes from letting the life you have lived in all its hues, move through you.

It was only when I was able to experience an embodied forgiveness of myself by myself that my compassion for those who had treated me unskilfully could really flow. By flow I do not mean words or sentiments; I mean an undeniable energetic movement of warmth and care towards another who has caused you suffering.

I have sat with many people who are dying and with their families and friends. Firstly it is a mistake to believe that every dying experience is suffused with insight, reconciliation and love. If we wait for the dramatic phase shifts of our life to happen before we face into what we need to forgive in order to be at peace, we may not have enough time, or enough life force to do it well.

These days I make it a daily practice to face into the situations I would rather not look at again. I expect to feel difficult about them and I tell myself this is just natural. I expect to have to wade through my reasonable reasons and justifications before I can simply accept that ‘yes…. I did that’. With practice what has followed is more tenderness towards myself and others and as a result my state of inner peace has grown.  By doing this I deeply accept we are all imperfect. I can be at peace about that!

In gassho Claire Genkai

Monday 15 July 2013

On the path of forgiveness we stumble across the stones of our shadow

By Marcos Frangos
Business Support Manager, Hampshire County Council

On the path of forgiveness, I believe we stumble across the stones of our shadow. And we stare at the bald reality that we have suffered and that we too have caused suffering. It is a humbling virtue, and as Karen pointed out in her blog on the same subject, it requires effort to keep walking the path.  

I suspect I often embody what Buddhists might name a ‘near enemy’ in relation to forgiveness. That is to say I assume attributes that look like forgiveness, but they are false selves masquerading as forgiveness and patience. The reality of my experience is that forgiveness is multi-faceted - a spiralling and deepening experience rather than a destination. It is entirely possible to partially forgive, yet to still harbour resentments.

Our ego is most adept at manoeuvring to avoid experiences that feel threatening, and require us to re-examine who we are. I am indebted to two family constellations facilitators (Clare Crombie and Sheila McCarthy Dodd) for the following analogy which I love. Our ego is like a superbly loyal sheep dog permanently on guard. As soon as it perceives that we’re close to an experience that might move us out of our comfort zone (forgiveness being a good example), it’s trained to nip our ankles and return us back to the fold, and to the territory of the known. Comfortable. Safe.

So what circumstances trigger my inner sheepdog to keep me from the challenge, the expansion, the greater capacity to love that are the fruits of forgiveness?

Here’s my forgiveness-avoidance list:

·        Preferring to stay in victimhood; if I keep the other person polarised I don’t have to own my part in the suffering

·        When the others’ pain and suffering so closely mirrors my own that I can hardly bare to witness it.

·        I cling on to ‘wanting to be right’, over and above wanting to be in truthful relationship

·        When I feel my anger or entrenched feelings give me energy and/or a sense of identity, and I’m reluctant to let it go. “Who am I, if I am not this struggle or pain?” In reality I am sure I consume more energy  holding on to unresolved hurt

·        When my inner resources are weakened, I fear that forgiving will drain me yet further – do I really want to turn the other cheek?

·        A fear that forgiving admits fallibility and weakness, and at times my arrogance, pride or fear make it hard to admit being simply human 

Recently I walked part of the Camino de St Jacques de Compostelle, in France – an old Christian pilgrimage route. I walked with awareness of some of the patterns mentioned above. I had allowed a gradual hardening within me, sediment by sediment and whilst my mind might choose  to forget painful episodes, my heart breathes with every detail.  
Heart and sheepdog, it’s quite a dance isn’t it?

So, on my walk I prayed and held the intention to soften and forgive and allow an expansion in which everyone can thrive. As issues came up for me, I just offered them to God. Some moments this led to my really experiencing my sadness, at other times, I felt incredibly supported by the extraordinary healing of nature, and of my companion pilgrims. Walking in nature was for me a wonderful activity to enable forgiveness. I experienced a gentle disentangling of complex inner knots, without real exertion.

I end this personal enquiry with a most beautiful approach to forgiveness. It’s from Hawaii and called the Hoʻoponopono prayer, based on an understanding that human beings are inextricably linked with all creation.

It asks a profound question around forgiveness: “what is in me that is causing an adverse condition to manifest in the other person's life?” and it goes like this…

I am sorry
Please forgive me
I love you
Thank you

Blessings on our paths of forgiveness, and in particular (what I find hardest of all) to expand into forgiving ourselves.

Sunday 7 July 2013

Forgiving Our Dark Side

On Saturday I listened to BBC Radio 4’s ‘The Bottom Line’ hosted by Evan Davis.  The topic was ‘leading in a crisis’ and one of the guests was Michael Woodford, ex-President of Olympus, who shortly after taking on his new role, exposed a major fraud at the company and was sacked for his efforts.

Following his appointment as President of the company, a contact tipped him off about a possible fraud involving the purchase for over $1bn, of 3 small, obscure companies, which themselves had virtually no turnover.  As he pursued the story, and was beginning to get close to the source of the problem, he was suddenly called into a meeting with the Chairman, Kiku Kawa, his mentor and the man responsible for his appointment.   As he entered the Board room, Kawa was sitting on one side of the table with a great platter of luxury sushi in front of him; opposite, in front of Woodford’s seat, was a ‘manky’ tuna sandwich, unadorned and just slapped on a plate.  The message, Woodford reflected, was that he was the ‘tuna sandwich’ of the food chain.

Undeterred, he continued to ask questions relating to the fraud trying to resolve the issue in private, but, on failing to achieve anything, his investigations culminated in him presenting his evidence to the board and asking for the resignation of the Chairman.  An extraordinary board meeting was called, and instead of acknowledging the case against Kawa, they fired Woodford.

The share price subsequently fell $7bn, 82% of the value of the company was lost and yet the institutional shareholders did nothing about the fraud or about Kawasan who continued as Chairman.  When asked what he had learned as a result of the affair, Woodford concluded:

“Most people don’t care a dot about anyone else but themselves and their nuclear families and that surprised me…after I was fired, people ran with the pack, with the new order and that still haunts me today.  Some of those colleagues in America, the UK and Germany had held my babies in their arms, they’d gone on holiday with me and there was no text message, they didn’t have to say anything, just “how are you”.  And that has left me feeling rather jaundiced about human nature’

When the other guests on the show demurred, claiming that this was an unnecessarily grim view of human nature, Woodford retorted, that most people are never tested and that none of us know how we will react until we are put to the test.  When put to the test his corporate ‘friends’ treated him as ‘persona non grata’ which, for Woodford, was “very hard to describe, it’s a horrible thing to go through”.

At this point it would be appropriate to talk about forgiveness.  But, something complex and profound happened to Woodford as a result of his experience.  He doesn’t have to forgive just one person who wronged him – that would be relatively easy.  He has to forgive ‘humanity’.  He has seen through the veneer of human nature – he has seen our dark side – the instinct to self-protect and to sacrifice the ‘other’ in our own self interest.  As a result of his experience he has lost his innocence; his view of human nature has changed and he has become cynical, upset and, I suspect, angry.   

I have written about similar cases to Woodfords in my book about leadership blind spots and I feel I understand a little about where he is coming from.  As Evan Davis and his guests pointed out, people behave differently when things go wrong and when they are under pressure.  None of us know how we would respond if a friend is sacked and we are made to feel that contacting him or her would endanger our own careers and jobs.  All of us have a dark side and none of us know exactly when or where that dark side will emerge. 

So rather than suggest Woodford ‘forgive’ those who wronged him, I feel that we need to learn to forgive humanity and to forgive ourselves.  The best way of doing that is to confront our dark side, to acknowledge that the instinct to protect ourselves and to sacrifice the other is deeply embedded in our psyches and to hope that when we are tested we will not be found wanting.  And when the reality of humankind’s cruelty, selfishness, greed and ruthlessness all gets unbearable, a period of silent reflection, in retreat from the world, contemplating some of the beauty we have been gifted might help to soften the pain:

The peace of wild things by Wendell Berry

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

 

 

Monday 1 July 2013

Forgiveness and Peace


Forgiveness and Peace

The great forgivers – Nelson Mandela, Mahatma Ghandi, Martin Luther King.  Perhaps more recently we remember Gordon Wilson, whose daughter, Marie, a nurse, was killed by a bomb during the troubles in Northern Ireland.  This is from Gordon’s Wikipedia entry:

In an interview with the BBC, Wilson described with anguish his last conversation with his daughter and his feelings toward her killers: “She held my hand tightly, and gripped me as hard as she could. She said, ‘Daddy, I love you very much.’ Those were her exact words to me, and those were the last words I ever heard her say.” To the astonishment of listeners, Wilson went on to add, “But I bear no ill will. I bear no grudge. Dirty sort of talk is not going to bring her back to life. She was a great wee lassie. She loved her profession. She was a pet. She’s dead. She’s in heaven and we shall meet again. I will pray for these men tonight and every night.” As historian Jonathan Bardon recounts, “No words in more than twenty-five years of violence in Northern Ireland had such a powerful, emotional impact.”


* * *

What strikes me about the people mentioned above is how they are great world changers and how their achievements (bringing about peace, reconciliation and freedom) are all associated with forgiveness.

I have not had great wrongs done to me, I must admit, so I am not well qualified to write on the topic of forgiveness, but I, like most people, can think of people I find it hard to forgive.  Virtually anything you read on forgiveness states that by forgiving others you free yourself of the crushing weight of bitterness, resentment and anger.  I see this but forgiving is so much easier to say than to do.  I can think of someone now who I resent and I have spent a lot of time ‘forgiving’ that person in my mind. It is only when something catches me off guard that I suddenly find myself thinking resentfully again about the person that I thought I had forgiven.  Clearly, forgiveness is not something you just achieve by saying to yourself ‘I forgive that person’.  There is an emotional scar which has to be healed and the only person who can heal it is yourself.  This is stated here much more powerfully by Dr Fred Luskin, a Stanford University psychologist, director of the Stanford Forgiveness Project, and author of the book Forgive for Good. Alternatively, if you respond more deeply to a sensual rather than analytical treatment of the subject, this is an inspiring video.
 
Forgiveness is a ‘work’, like all the virtues; as Aristotle pointed out, the virtues come from repeated practice.  Forgiveness is a discipline that requires courage, persistence and great wells of compassion. Gandhi said ‘The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong’.  It also takes time for forgiveness to sink deeper and deeper into our consciousness.   But from forgiveness, true peace emerges – both for the forgiver and for the wider community, and even for the nation.

I am struck quite often by how some newspapers enjoy stoking up the opposite of forgiveness – blame, anger, bitterness, resentment. These emotions apparently sell newspapers.  A friend told me recently how he asked why the campaign being conducted by his local political party was so negative.  He was told that ‘Central Office’ had conducted research that showed how blaming other parties has a much stronger ability to get people out to vote than positive campaigning.  There is something quite ‘stimulating’ about ‘hating’ and ‘blaming’.

If you have someone in your life you find it hard to forgive,  I really hope that you can further your journey towards healing.  You might find Fred Luskin’s site helpful.  It is full of resources, interactive exercises and further information.

If you are in a leadership position, you may find it harder to forgive. Remember the research by the Daedalus Trust that demonstrates how power is often correlated with high levels of testosterone and low levels of compassion.  Visit the site and learn more about how exercising power can affect your ability to relate and forgive.


If you feel relatively unaffected by this debate, you might like to think of our current societal scapegoats – the bankers, the politicians, the leaders of NHS trusts, BBC Boards of Governors and government quangos such as the Care Quality Commission.  How do you feel about these people?  What effect does hearing about them and others’ misdeeds have upon you and those around you?  Is it time to forgive and move on?

Sunday 23 June 2013

The U-shaped hole in Injustice by Karen Blakeley

This week we have been ranging over a number of topics, justice, patience and courage. And, although not planned as such, it seems to me that the three are very closely connected.  Try this exercise:  time yourself for 1 minute and see how many examples of injustice in the world you are able to write down.  I came up with 15.  When I gave myself 2 minutes I typed out 30 issues and could have gone on for longer.  My issues ranged from the injustices in this country’s education system, to inherited diseases, to poverty in Africa, to the lack of human rights in a number of regimes all over the world and to human trafficking.

So what do you do in response to all of these issues? 
  • You can get angry
  • You can do something small e.g. write a letter to your MP
  • You can do something big e.g. protest, march, organise a fund-raising event
  • You can do something that involves some personal sacrifice e.g. give up a holiday and volunteer instead
  • You can be fatalistic and resign yourself to the inevitable injustice of life
  • You can avoid it – bury your head in the sand, get on with your own life
  • You can ‘care’.
Of course, there are pros and cons with all of these.  Even just ‘caring’ is emotionally exhausting – there is just too much to care about.  Since we cannot do anything about most of the injustices in the world it is tempting to bury one’s head in the sand and get on with one’s own life.   And we probably all do all of these things at various times.

The trick, it seems to me, is to know when one is required to be patient and when one is required to be courageous.

I am currently in my ‘angry’ phase – this often happens when I have space to think about issues of injustice.  I am at the phase where “something must be DONE”.  So recently I looked to join some kind of organisation that was active in the political arena without being an actual political party, as I am disillusioned and cynical about such institutions.  As a result of my search I came across an organisation called Compass and, having chatted with the remarkably energetic young lady at the end of the phone, I was invited to attend an Inquiry into ‘a new model for education’ in Portcullis House where much of the business of Parliament gets transacted.  About 50 people filled the room which included an MP, the head of the N.U.T. and two ex-headmasters, one of whom was a member of the House of Lords.  A vigorous debate ensued amongst all the participants many of whom came from the world of secondary education.  Talk about injustice – it burst forth from every person’s story or plea, our education system is positively brimming over with it!.  And you can always tell when people have experienced injustice because they get angry and upset and passionate.  What was interesting to me was that the MP and the other speakers kept saying “I agree with everything that has been said so far”.  Apart from being ‘politician-speak’, they were right – we all knew the injustices and the problems in education, it’s just that different people have different views as to how to put them right.  And, what was also apparent was that fixing those injustices involved a highly complex process of harnessing different energies, opposing ideas, conflicting needs and competing interests.  I heard nothing original that evening and left thinking, ‘well that issue is best left in the hands of people who know what they are talking about and who know a lot more about the issue than I do’.   And I often come to that place nowadays – what do I know about the Palestinian issue;  what qualifies me to get angry on behalf of the protestors in Turkey or Brazil; what can I do about the companies that are avoiding tax?

This is where patience steps in – these are the words from the serenity prayer:

Lord give me the serenity to accept things I cannot change
             The courage to change the things I can
             And the wisdom to know the difference.

I am not sure I have displayed much courage in changing the things I can but I suppose it does take a degree of courage to care about things you can change.  Because once you decide you are going to care about something, well, you have to actually DO something about it.  And in our over-worked, pressured and yet highly stimulating, entertainment-rich environments giving up time to DO something is a sacrifice.   Furthermore, you never know what you may end up doing – a marathon, a sky-dive, a talk, something that makes you look ridiculous – all for charity or to address an injustice of some sort.

As far as injustice is concerned, I think we can afford to give ourselves a little break – we all know the problems in our world and there are others out there who are focusing their energies and talents on resolving those problems.  But there is one problem in the world – it may be in the family, in the community, at work or even a national or global issue – but there is one problem that has a ‘U’ shaped hole in it.  It is just waiting for ‘you’ to focus your energies and talents on it and for ‘you’ to believe in yourself enough to step up to the plate and ‘just DO it!’.

Good luck!

Saturday 15 June 2013

Courage, by Juliet Hancock


“Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go”   T S Eliot

 Juliet is an independent Organisation Development Consultant and Coach with a particular interest in the role of values in the choices we make as individuals and how we engage with others.

When asked last August if I would be interested in writing some blogs for the Good Project, saying ‘yes’ felt quite courageous (or mad!) as I had never written a blog before.  And I am curious that I chose to write about courage – what do I know about that? At the time I was getting over an accident and feeling rather vulnerable and fearful about the future. Maybe I was looking for some courage myself, and because I also knew the situation I found myself in was also an opportunity –to grow and to risk doing something different in the future.

And then I realised that courage was at the heart of my work on organisation and personal values, including my own. The Latin root of the word values is ‘valor’, meaning strength and bravery. “In understanding our values we equip ourselves with a perennial source of motivation, focus and strength to achieve those things that matter most to us” says Michael Henderson in Finding True North.

Our values sit at the intersection of our experience of the outer world and our inner world. We need head, heart and bravery to defeat our fears and achieve what we are truly capable of. In the Wizard of Oz the Scarecrow, Tin man and Lion found all three to defeat the Wicked Witch of the West, and discovered that they already had these resources within themselves. What is it that prevents us all, and our organisations achieving their full potential to be the ‘best we can be’?

Our values drive our behaviour and paradoxically, because they are largely unconscious, may limit our choices and our potential. They inform our decision making and where we put our energy. Our values determine the choices e make about what we ‘have’; what we ‘do’ and ‘who we are’. As Maslow said, our values determine our ‘needs’ (food, shelter, physical health) and also for belonging and self-esteem. It may be the fear of losing these that hold us back:  ‘will I have enough money for the future?’; ‘will I make fool of myself? ‘will they like me?’; ‘will I fit in?’; ‘what if I fail?’ How many of us postpone or trade off what we really want in life to be ‘safe’?

But our values can also drive us forward. By having the courage to look at our fears and our aspirations ‘in the eye’ we can begin to address that potential gap referred to in Chandra McGowan’s excellent blog ‘the courage to be amazing’. Try Jackie Le Fevre’s ‘braveometer’ to see how brave you are now and want to be http://braverthanyouthink.co.uk/start.php.  Chris Johnston has some good tips for finding the courage we need in his book ‘Find your power’, to move from our comfort zone, through resistance to the ‘world of our dreams’.

By limiting our own courage and potential we also limit the courage and potential of others. The behaviour of leaders and managers becomes the culture of organisations. How often do we see people protecting themselves in case of blame; reinforcing practises they know need to change and saying why things can’t be done. Staffordshire Hospital and Barclays Bank and so many others. How long did it take for anyone to say ‘I got it wrong’ or to blow the whistle on others, and with what awful consequences on people’s lives.

Instead, how would it be to be the ‘best possible organisation on earth to work for?’ For three years Rob Goffee and Gareth Jones of London Business School have been investigating this question by asking hundreds of executives in surveys and in seminars all over the world to describe their ideal organisation. They found six common imperatives. Together they describe an organisation that operates at its fullest potential by allowing people to do their ‘best work’.

” In a nutshell, it’s a company where individual differences are nurtured; information is not suppressed or spun; the company adds value to employees, rather than merely extracting it from them; the organization stands for something meaningful; the work itself is intrinsically rewarding; and there are no stupid rules.  We call this “the organization of your dreams” (Harvard Business Review).    http://hbr.org/2013/05/creating-the-best-workplace-on-earth/ar/pr

At the heart of this dream organisation are some principles including ‘let me be myself’ ‘discover and magnify my strengths’ and ‘make my work meaningful’.

This to me feels like a yellow brick road worth following – personally and for those people and organisations we work with who are all striving to be the best they can be. I used to have a sticker in the back of my car – ‘dare to dream’. Now there is a challenge……….    

 

 

 

Monday 10 June 2013

Justice


John Cullen lectures in the School of Business at the National University of Ireland Maynooth.  He researches the relationship between work, spirituality & management learning (particularly their impact on our relationship with the natural world and society).

______________________________________________________

Justice
My aunt died this week.   She was the most soulful person you could meet.  Engaging, beautiful, compassionate and funny; the world seems quieter without her.  Her cancer came quickly and robbed everyone who knew her of somebody who made them feel vigorously loved.  That someone so young as her should be taken at such a young age is unjust.  All feelings of injustice derive from a sense of loss – of no longer having someone who reminds us of the importance of connecting to other people.  Someone who tells us that there is always something we can do to help people who have lost something. 

Last Palm Sunday Pope Francis tweeted: ‘We must not believe the Evil One when he tells us that there is nothing we can do in the face of violence, injustice and sin’.  Since then a clearer picture of what he means by ‘injustice’, and who he means as ‘perpetrators’ has emerged.  He has been increasingly outspoken in his comments against the ‘tyranny’ of the world of international finance who would have us believe that we all have to take the poisonous medicine of Austerity that has devastated families, ruined wellbeing and even led to the resurgence of far-right xenophobic groups.  The appeal that this latter group wield is doubtlessly grounded in the way that they appeal to a sense of justice that has been denied to working people by mainstream democratic parties.  We are all in a dangerous place because of a perceived lack of justice. 

In The Denial of Death, Ernest Becker wrote that all human beings sooner or later have to engage with the most difficult fact of their existence: the fact that they will die.  People do this by becoming involved in an ‘immortality project’ which is a way of reminding ourselves that our existence is significant.  The social construction of these projects leads to conflicts between these systems over time.  Herein is the difficulty with harmful social and political movements: the people who run them ultimately believe that they are doing the right thing for themselves, their community, and even the world.  At the core of the injustice that they inflict on other people, they believe that they are being just. 

A Muslim friend of mine speaks of his faith in terms of justice.  He believes in afterlife where everything will be set right; where the people he loves who have suffered will be allowed to live the fullest possible life, and the indignities and illnesses they have endured will be forgotten.

Even the most atheistic amongst us want the same thing.  Marx recognised this desire to be one that religions could accommodate.  Religion is ‘the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions’.  His language is apt, because he speaks of a world without a heart and soul.  Our desire for justice is based on the need for recognising that people are not consumers, market segments or human capital.  We are not whatever economists imagine us to be; we are contributors to long emergent cultural processes. 

Becker proposed that people became mentally ill and depressed because they are denied access to resources which could enable them to complete their immortality project.  Boring work, poverty, evidence of a lack of compassion make people believe that the concept of a soul – our sense of self which is rooted in the various groups we are members of – has ceased to exist.  Without souls we are only intelligent animals who do not owe each other anything and only have a duty to satisfying our own self-interest.  Like the demon in The Exorcist who tries to convince the priests that humans are animals who are not worthy of God’s love, the concept of behaving justly is integral to the idea of living a life that is soulful.  Whereas markets have a strong utility in helping people develop their skills in a meritocratic way, innovating and satisfying needs, when they become an overall orthodox ideology on whose terms solely is society governed, then we have found a rationale for treat people as if they had no souls - a rationale for treating them unjustly.

The easy thing to do is to find someone to blame for our losses – extremism always fills the gap of hurt easily.  But there is something more productive we can do when we feel like a victim of injustice.  The cultural psychologist Rick Shweder has demonstrated that depressed states are associated with the concept of ‘soul loss’ in many societies.  In Thinking Through Cultures (1991) he writes: ‘To feel depressed one must have had experience with the soul’(p.255).  In short, experiencing intense pain is the first step that we take to find more soulful ways of living.  Facing the pain of injustice and the reality of loss in a mature way leads us to new ways of creating justice for others. 

In Memory of Nuala Joyce.

Tuesday 4 June 2013

Patience by Gill How


Patience is the state of endurance in difficult situations

By Gill How

“Patience is the state of endurance in difficult situations, persevering in the face of delay or provocation. It is the level of endurance before negativity.”

“Virtue is moral excellence, a positive trait or quality deemed to be morally good.”

Both these descriptions come from Wikipedia.

The topic here is patience as a virtue. I have journeyed with patience over the last few years and felt drawn to write about it here.

My relationship with patience became explicit with feedback from the external assessor at the end of my coaching supervision viva, the final, observed, point of my coaching supervision qualification. She reflected back how patient I had been with my client, and how that patience had showed in the time I gave the client in finding her own thinking. Giving a client this time would feel a respectful thing for me to do anyway, but the language in the feedback was patience. This reminded me of two things – one how I had learnt to be patient with my middle child, who has learning difficulties (Down’s Syndrome), where every stage of his progress has been hard won, recognised and celebrated. It also reminded me of when, as a child myself, I taught another child to dive (we were in the same swimming club). I was able to sit on the side of the pool with him and wait until he decided he could do it.  And now as a grown up, I am often complimented on how much I believe people can do things, and how I give them the time, space and belief to go and do the things they initially believe they cannot. Maybe patience with others is not so much a virtue of mine, but a strength – something I cannot not do. However, there are boundaries – I can only do it for about three hours maximum at a time! And then I need to do something different.

The second area of thought about patience is about patience with oneself, particularly when things do not go at the speed that one would wish. I am, of course, talking about the “slower than we would like” speed. After eighteen years of working for myself I have decided the time has come to join an organisation again. My patience has been remarkably tested, finding my direction and place to fit where all of my experience is valued, appreciated and welcomed, particularly in time of recession. There have been clear moments of despair, amidst all the learning and opportunity to connect in a heartfelt way with others about the dilemmas we face choosing our career at the current time. Not so good on the level of endurance before negativity occurs then, a clear case of good and bad inter-twined! However, in one of my more despairing moments of reflection, I wrote myself a note which began... “I got this job because...” and I was surprised to find myself answering the question in the following way: “I got this job because I was patient. I took the journey as work itself, a learning adventure in its own right, and when the inner work was done and the learning complete, I got the job.” And certainly, as I have become more open to feedback about how I am seen, and where my best contribution would be next, things have flowed more easily.

So where does this lead? What are your thoughts on this quote:

Patience with others is Love,

Patience with self is Hope,

Patience with God is Faith.

Adel Bestravos, 1924 – 2005, who was a Deacon in the Christian Coptic Orthodox Church in Egypt.

 

I found his quote quite inspiring and a different, more positive take on the topic. I can see that my stories about patience with others align well with Love. My stories about patience with myself vary on or with Hope, although do link very strongly with the concept of my own purpose and meaning, and they seem to represent some strange combination of what Adel says about self and God and maybe even Faith for me. I do like his three dimensions, (the number three always is good!) and the linkages he offers, even if it is not entirely consistent with my own thoughts and beliefs, not  at the moment anyway.

What then are the take-aways about my thoughts about patience? The things which stand out for me are:

·         Patience can clearly be an act of love, perhaps this can be seen and felt more easily with others, however perhaps it could be targeted in the same way for self too

·         When patience is required, and I take it as a positive reaction to a situation, it is an opportunity for reflection, inner work and growth as well as feedback and engagement with others

·         At its best patience is therefore an active response, a place where I am present, alive and connected with the needs of the moment, in direct contrast with some of the better known qualities of passivity, denial and avoidance, strategies with which I have been far too familiar in the past.

 What a surprise – I wonder if I have transformed “endurance” to “engagement” ...

Patience is the state of engagement with difficult situations...a positive trait or quality deemed to be (morally) good.

I have enjoyed writing this – it would please me if you would share your own response and thoughts about patience as a virtue here too...

 

Gill is a leadership development consultant and executive coach, particularly interested in helping people in organisations to lead change in an effective, results oriented and meaningful way which exceeds expectations of stakeholders.