Tug On The Idea

631. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Sean drew a picture of a tug-of-war. The rope was taut. He said, “Any good process has two sides pulling on the idea. To stay out of the extremes and off the margins we need the tension from the other team. We need the other side to pull as hard as we do; that’s what makes it all work. That’s what keeps us playing in the center. ” And then he paused and thought about it, adding, “In a way, it’s this kind of tension that makes collaboration happen. Collaboration isn’t about absolute agreement – that’s not generative at all; collaboration is how we do conflict. Collaboration is healthy conflict.”

I laughed at the phrase and I think it is accurate. If we can pull on the idea rope without negating each other, if it’s not personal, then it is healthy. It’s all about focusing on the idea, pulling on the idea instead of diminishing the other; a great collaboration is subject centered, it is about a better idea and that requires some tugging. It is not about being right or winning; it is the game that is essential.

I once took a class from the great Kichom Hyashi. One day he divided the class into two teams from a mock organization: 1) the finance folk and 2) the creative team. He posed a challenge and asked the two teams to try and pull the other side into their point of view. We immediately began diminishing the ideas of the other side. Kichom stopped us. He asked us to begin again only this time he would facilitate our conversation. He did not allow us to diminish or negate the other team. We entered the heat, argued the idea instead of negating the people, and an extraordinary thing happened: the tension mounted until it was palpable, crackling, and then a 3rd channel broke open. A better idea, previously hidden, burst forth. It was not a solution but a better idea, an expanded vision. The tension transformed into excitement. The two teams were now one voice chattering about the possibilities.

Kichom sat back in his chair and smiled, saying, “It’s not a mystery. This is how it is supposed to happen.”

Help Marisol

572. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

We just cleared through security at the airport and were putting on our shoes, and belts, and rings; we were zipping computers back in their cases. Several feet away stood a small woman. Later, I would learn that her name was Marisol. She was from the Virgin Islands. She was lost. She was punching the button for an elevator that would not come. She looked straight at me, smiled and said in her broken English, “Help me.”

I stood with her for several minutes at the elevator-that-would-never-come and when we finally gave up, I took her bag and we approached the escalator. Marisol approached the escalator as I might approach a pond of crocodiles. She closed her eyes and stepped boldly, leaving one foot firmly planted on the landing while the other foot landed squarely on the line soon to separate into two different treads. She would have fallen, she expected to fall, but I clutched her as she clutched me and we rode the demon stairs to the bottom and leapt to safety. In addition to a train, we had two more escalators to navigate, each as fearful for her as the first, each a near accident, the result of a fearless closed-eye stepping, clutching and rescue, a ride on modern terror, and a leap to safety.

When we at last arrived at her gate, we left her in the good hands of the gate attendants (how’s that for a metaphor) and walked on to find our flight. As we left Marisol I was struck by her ease – even in the midst of being lost, she easily reached out for help, easily extended to me her trust, easily stepped into something that terrified her, again and again, easily knew that she would arrive where she needed to go. She closed her eyes and stepped.

During our adventure I learned that she was on vacation. This tiny adventurous soul came to Seattle because it was a place that she’d always wanted to see. She made no plan and followed the adventure of the day – I can only imagine she looked at strangers all along the way and said, “Help me.” And, like me, they helped. She was so generous in her request that I would have missed my flight to get her on time to hers. I am certain she altered the course of the day for every stranger that she met.

Marisol expects the world to be generous and so it is. She expects people to be caring, careful, and supportive – and so they are. Marisol sees a world that begs her to come for a visit. And so she does. Easily.

Join The Conspiracy

571. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

As we boarded the plane to Tucson, the flight attendants pulled us aside and in a conspiratorial whisper asked, “Can you help us?” Peaking around the corner, wary that they might be overheard, they shoved a brightly colored package at us and unfolded a piece of paper, a laser print of a photo. The picture was of their co-worker, Diane. “This is what she looks like.” They whispered. “Take a good look. At some point during the flight, will you give her this gift? It’s her birthday.” We nodded as we peaked around the corner, now fully complicit with the surprise. They held up the photo once again and mouthed silently, “Diane.”

As we continued down the aisle we saw her, Diane. Lora leaned forward and whispered, “That’s her! There she is!” We pretended not to stare, acting casual, taking our seats as if we were ordinary passengers. We noticed the eyes of other conspirators, secret carriers of brightly wrapped packages.

Later, in the air, as the beverage cart made its way down the aisle, Diane handed out snacks and passengers handed her presents. There was great laughter with each new revelation. Diane opened her packages in the aisle and showed her new treasure to the giver, her new friends. Later, people rang for the attendant and when Diane came, instead of asking a question or requesting a beverage, they gave Diane her present. The pilot’s voice came over the loud speaker, announcing that it was Diane’s birthday. We knew already and laughed and clapped for her.

Lora whispered, “When should we give her our present?” “Soon!” I responded, looking around to make sure Diane was not within earshot. We had no idea what was in the package, had never met Diane, but now it was “our” present and we were both excited to give it. The moment came when she was collecting trash. Diane leaned forward to gather our used cups and Lora leaned forward and gave her the present. More hilarity. More gratitude. By now, the people on the flight were chatting, the party was in full swing; the flight was a surprise both for Diane and for the passengers.

The line between stranger and friend is so thin. We step over that line when we make the choice to include others as opposed to excluding them. I sat in my seat and watched the generosity of strangers morph into a festival of connectivity; people opened. The capacity for making a day extraordinary is ever-present and so close at hand. It only requires a wee bit of conspiracy to make someone’s day.

String The Bow

560. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Robert Fritz writes that between “What is” and “What you want” is a tension and this tension is the energy necessary to propel you toward your vision. This tension is not manufactured, it is not imaginary; it is specific, dynamic, and real. The common mistake we make is to try and relieve the tension by telling a story of “not so bad” or “this is good enough” or “I’m not ready yet.” The arrow cannot fly if there is no tension in the string. The arrow will never reach the target if there is weak tension in the string.

This does not mean that “what is” needs to be miserable. If you are alive you are on a quest; human beings are seekers. We are always engaged with what might be. We are creators. A yearning heart is an alive heart; desire is the spice of living.

In one of the versions of the Prometheus saga, Zeus created people so he’d have someone to worship him. Apparently, gods need us as much as we need them. Zeus assigned the task of human creation to Prometheus and gave him explicit instructions: make these humans crude and ugly and stupid. Zeus didn’t want people to be god-like. He wanted worshippers, not competition. Prometheus sculpted his human couple beneath a tree so Zeus couldn’t see them. Prometheus, like us, couldn’t bear to minimize his creation: he started with lumps of clay (what is) and sculpted beautiful beings (what he imagined might be). He knew Zeus would never approve so he stole the fire of life to ignite the hearts of his humans. Zeus could have squashed the new creatures but instead decided to punish Prometheus by infusing his creation (us) with doubt and contradiction; he gave us the capacity to make music and war.

Our hearts are alive with gods fire. We are more like Prometheus than Zeus. If our lives are our greatest creations we can, like Zeus, aim for ugly or follow the example of Prometheus and make something threatening in it’s beauty. String the bow, use the tension and let fly a whole quiver of possibilities!