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Archive for 2007

Prosperity

butterfly.JPGAs we draw to a close of another calendar year, there are prolific messages for us to reflect and ponder the year that’s passed, and anticipate what we will create in the year to come.

We can beat ourselves up for the card unsent, the presents unbought, the myriad of “stuff” incomplete, or we can simply welcome the chance to pause, take a breath, and know that where we are right now is exactly perfect!  So, if you haven’t received my card yet, don’t hold your breath - I didn’t send any. If you haven’t received my “me-mail” about all the exciting things I’ve accomplished this year, don’t blame your internet provider - I didn’t write one!

What you can be certain of is that I am holding each of you in my thoughts as I reflect on all the people who made 2007 memorable and special. There are so many things to celebrate, to acknowledge and to be thankful for.

I trust that 2007 has been all you planned and you are filled with excitement, enthusiasm, inspiration and joy as we prepare to welcome a brand new year.

My wish for you is prosperity - such a rich and delicious word.

What does prosperity mean for you?

May it manifest for you in 2008.

Dogma is man’s best friend

I just love the way H B Gelatt thinks - and presents his ideas. He often puts into words just what I’m thinking, and he generously gave me permission to reproduce this thought-provoking article: 

bails-and-baci-019.jpgBeware of Your Dogma - by H B Gelatt     

The truth is that we cannot avoid uncertainty. This not-knowing is part of the adventure. It is also what makes us afraid.  Pema Chodron

Niels Bohr, one of the founding fathers of quantum physics, tells a story about a young student attending three lectures by a very famous rabbi. The student said the first lecture was very good — he understood everything. The second lecture was much better — the student didn’t understand it but the rabbi understood everything. The third lecture was the best of all — it was so good that even the rabbi didn’t understand it. Bohr tells this story because he says he never understood quantum physics, even though he helped create it. 

I think this story illustrates that what we are learning about the world nowadays is “so good” that nobody really understands it all. This is the certainty of uncertainty. In fact here is the opinion of the “new sciences:” Reality may not be structured in any way the human mind objectively discern. 

This article is part of my Process of Illumination, creating a collective worldview that is open and inclusive. The basic premise is that uncertainty is certain and the illumination strategy is: Beware of your dogma. I probably should say that I don’t really understand everything I am writing about in this article. But I will say that I am certainly uncertain.

Say Hello and Goodbye to Your Dogma

Absolute certainty is dogma. I believe dogma is a major deterrent to growth, development and learning … and to a collective worldview that is open and inclusive. However, as Swami Beyondananda puts it: Dogma is truly man’s best friend. This is because certainty feels so good … yet you can’t grow clinging to the status quo.

However, there seems to be an emerging collective worldview that acknowledges the uncertainty of our reality and the reality of uncertainty. This comes from Niels Bohr’s and Werner Heisenberg’s quantum physics, and from the cybernetics, and constructionist work of Gregory Bateson and Heinz von Foerster, among others. And from some of the “old” eastern philosophies. Yet some of us, at times, still reject the possibility of uncertainty. 

If you are certain about the security of your current job or certain that your country will always protect your freedom, it might be dangerous because you may not pay attention to signs that your job is becoming obsolete or that your personal freedom is being restricted. Are there someareas of your personal life where you are so comfortable with knowing for sure that you might be unable to “see” beyond your sureness?  The answer is probably yes. Recognizing it and its dangers is the beginning of illumination.

Years ago Emile Chartier warned us, Nothing is more dangerous than an idea, when it is the only one you have. Today I would say that nothing is more dangerous that a dogmatic belief, no matter how many you have. Get acquainted with your dogma and then say goodbye. Mark Twain points out a problem with such sureness.  It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you in trouble; it’s what you know for sure that ain’t so. How do you live without certainty? Here are two suggested illumination methods. Read the rest of this entry »

Values are the key to transformational leadership

Do those around you share your passion?

Are your organisation’s values relevant to your employees?

How do those values and passion translate to your customers?

Are you committed to learning & growing?

I have just returned from South Africa, where I was invited to facilitate a values-based leadership workshop for Bidvest’s first Graduate Leadership Academy. The participants were General Managers and Senior Executives of various Bidvest companies who were previous participants of past Academies, and selected to be part of the graduate Academy. There were people of African, Afrikaans, Indian, English & Dutch origins – wonderfully diverse. Bidvest* is a true example of a Visionary Organisation, committed to growing visionary leaders. The leaders openly declare that people create profit, companies only report it.  Employing more than 93,000 people across four continents, Bidvest is seriously successful.  They are committed to developing leaders at all levels, and believe that building relationships, improving lives and empowering people is the key to their success.

As I got to know the leaders in the group, what struck me most was how well they modeled the key drivers of visionary leadership – courage and honesty, passion and enthusiasm, and great interpersonal skills**. Despite having reached the most senior positions in their respective divisions,  where they could have rested smugly with their MBAs, their senior roles and their comfortable salaries, they were committed to continuous learning – not only technical skills, but also to building emotional capacity. They were open to feedback, and engaged in regular formal measurement processes to ensure they were on track. 

So what does it take to transform organisations?

Organisational transformation requires visionary leadership. On my way home, I came through Singapore to meet up with my dear friend and mentor, Debashis Chatterjee. Debashis is the dean of Leadership at the S.P. Jain Business school in Singapore, and we had long conversations about our shared passion for values and leadership. He reminded me that organisational transformation happens through individual transformation. Consider what makes an individual grow? Invariably, individuals grow through learning.  Make learning your highest organisational priority. Instead of asking: “What did I do today?” ask: “What did I learn to do differently today?”  When every employee asks this question, an organisation will spontaneously transform itself. Transformational leadership is not about one leader among many but about many leaders who act toward one purpose. In a transformed organisation leaders do not lead followers, they lead leaders. Says the Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu: “To lead people, walk behind them.”

What excites me about working with values is that regardless of race, education, gender, position or nationality, when we meet at a values level, we find unity. It is only in the language of values that conversations for change can be had, and organisations can truly transform.

Please join us for the next Visionary Leadership Program to refresh your visions, clarify your values, and ignite the spirit of leadership. This  is scheduled for October 22/23, & November 13/14,  and will be held at “Lilyvale” in the Royal National Park, Sydney.

To book your place, contact us today on +61 2 4268 5555.

**these are the key drivers of high performing companies according to the latest research of Quanta Consulting, a research consultancy whose ground-breaking work has increased the profitability of companies in Denmark, Greece, South Africa, New Zealand & Australia. Values Connection is the partner of Quanta for Asia/Pacific region.

Wise Women

We know the importance of taking time out to reflect, re-energise and connect with other like-hearted people, so put this date in your diary.

On 29th August, the Shoalhaven Women’s Conference will be held in Bomaderry.  Inspirational speakers, exceptional value and fabulous food. Take the opportunity to have a day in the beautiful Shoalhaven and come along to share ideas and learn with businesswomen from diverse sectors. I promise you’ll have a fabulous day.

Reverse Pumpkin Theory

Here we are almost at the end of another month, and my best intentions to blog have gone out the window. Last night I attended an event convened by AmCham Women In Management, hearing three inspirational women speak about Entrepreneurship. A key tip (amongst many) was delegate, delegate, delegate!

So, demonstrating my rapid learning and ability to instantly implement lessons, I have asked a talented friend to “guest write” something for you. He has often told me about his “reverse pumpkin theory”, so it’s a pleasure to share it with you:

Reverse Pumpkin Theory - David Smith, (Author, Musician, IT guru and creative genius)

We all have friends who live in the country.  People who have eschewed the lure of the bright lights and the traffic jams and the freshly ground Brazilian coffee lovingly steamed by Manuel, the only barista who really understands us.  Or was that Columbian?  Whoever… Anyway, we all have friends who live in the country.  It’s a rule. 

And, sure enough, the same as we denizens of the metropolii occasionally decide that what we really, really need right now is some country air, and head west over the mountains to the great beyond, so our country friends decide that what they really, really need right now is a dose of carbon monoxide poisoning, a high stress ride through the streets of an unfamiliar city with one hand on the street directory and the other, white-knuckled on the wheel, and a personal introduction to Manuel, the only barista who really understands them. 

So they arrive, dusty, tired, stressed.  It’s usually a Saturday, mid-afternoon.  You usher them in, show them the shower, pop a nice bottle of something in the freezer, and half an hour or so later, they emerge, human… almost normal. Small talk is exchanged, the good old days dissected and then one of them gets a gleam in their eye and says “We’ve brought you something from home.  Gerald (Norman, Barry etc) will get it from the car.”   

And so it begins… A battered cardboard box arrives.  Inside is a scattering of potatoes with clumps of red dirt still attached, perhaps also an obscure vegetable that you’re not quite sure of, like a turnip or a parsnip, and always, always, a pumpkin. 

It’s not a small one either – this is a real mother of a pumpkin, staring up at you out of the box in a round and vaguely malevolent way. It’s a nice pumpkin, and no doubt it tastes exquisite.  Well, great.  Well, nice.  Well, OK.  Well actually I don’t really like pumpkin all that much, truth be told.  The saving grace of a pumpkin is however, that you are under absolutely no obligation to do anything with it right away.  Your friends will be gone soon, and it can sit there in the corner, staring at you in a round and vaguely malevolent way while you ponder the meaning of its life.  Eventually it rots and you throw it away – around about the time when you ring your friends up and tell them it was absolutely delicious as soup. 

Next time, a year or so on, there’s another visit, and another pumpkin, because we all have friends who live in the country, and they always bring pumpkins when they come to town. 

This, dear reader, is Pumpkin Theory.  You know it.  I know it.  So, when it’s my turn to go and reacquaint myself with the quaint country charm of wherever it is they’re living – the termite ridden fence posts, Ethel the goat who, despite all evidence to the contrary, is still alive, and the dry, dry ground, well I like to indulge in what we’ll call Reverse Pumpkin Theory. 

It’s the nobless oblige of city / country relations – the rich man / poor man saga writ large in the dusty window of the Holden station wagon parked for several years now, in big shed. Reverse Pumpkin Theory involves bearing gifts to our poor country cousins – not a pumpkin of course, because that would just be Pumpkin Theory in reverse, which is a different thing entirely, but instead the very crème de la crème of epicurean delights. 

David Jones is a good place to start, assuming there’s a Food Hall, natch.  Perhaps some gently spiced goat’s cheese (the like of which Ethel could never hope to produce), a new variant on the scale of dried / sun-dried / semi-dried tomatoes in triple virgin olive oil perhaps (you can never have too many virgins associated with your food), the finest Belgian dark chocolate with 85% cocoa butter from Columbia, or is it Brazil?  Perhaps a special salad dressing from a famous local restaurant – a steal at only $25 for 375 ml.  Is that French truffle oil or a local Tasmanian version?  That sort of thing. 

It’s not hard to fill up a basket with such wonders – and it’s fun.  You get to buy things that perhaps you’d otherwise be too afraid to tangle with on your own, and watch to see if they’re actually edible. 

You arrive, your basket piled high – and they’re very glad to see you.  It’s Saturday, mid-afternoon.  You’re stressed from the constant bumping of fifty or so kilometres of corrugated goat track.  They show you the shower, although asking if perhaps you could not spend more than a minute in it due to the drought, and they slip a fine bottle of something into the freezer. 

You emerge half an hour later, human.  Almost normal.  The basket is presented.  You explain Reverse Pumpkin Theory – as a thank you for all those lovely pumpkins they’ve bought down over the years, you’ve bought some real food for them to eat.  It never occurs to either your friends or yourself that you’ve brought it merely so that you can ensure that you yourself will eat well whilst staying with them. 

The cellophane wrapping is removed and the contents lovingly spread on the kitchen table whilst you sip a brisk young New Zealand sauvignon blanc not of your providing that’s not only many cuts above the Ben Ean Moselle you were expecting, but gets you wondering how, living in such a crusty old backwater, they managed to get hold of it. 

One of your friends picks up a jar of hand picked Peruvian high altitude special large capers in rice vinegar and says, “You know, these are absolutely my favourite capers.  They’re just a touch saltier than the standard ones you get at Woollies – and it’s more a sea salt than a rock salt flavour, while putting them in rice vinegar gives them a subtle sweetness that I’ve not tasted in inferior brands.  I get them all the time from the new deli in town.” 

“Oh… and I love these too,” she says, moving onto the next impossible-to-procure-in-the-country item that you’ve spent the best part of last Saturday tracking down in an obscure Portugese deli in Newtown that a friend told you about only if you promised not to let the secret out to the hoi polloi… “and these are just darling….” 

Damn the global marketplace… 

Transitioning from the old to the new

This month, I’ve really noticed the challenge of how easy it is to talk about embracing change, yet how difficult it can actually be to really do it! I have had my laptop for almost 5 years – it’s my primary business tool, and some of the letters on the keypad have worn off with constant use. The battery has seen better days, and it began to just shut down at inconvenient times, causing me to lose my work. I went and bought a lovely new replacement model. Updated software, much faster, better, newer, more efficient. I brought it home and put it next to my “old” one.

What do you think I did next? Yes, I started it, did all the configuration steps, began to transfer files, and then as I tried to use it, realised how uncomfortable it felt. The keys were stiff, the screen looked alien, the windows operating system is different. I had to learn a new navigation system, and it wasn’t fun! Even though my old one was unreliable and dodgy at best, I kept going back to use it, because it “felt part of me”. I was willing to lose work / take longer to complete things just because it felt familiar. 

I know the new one is better. I know it is  more stable, will deliver faster and smarter results. Yet, I need a transition time… a time where I can “say goodbye” to my old habits and familiar ways of doing things, and make a gradual change to the new one. So too with organisational change. Just because we know we need to move to new and better ways of doing things doesn’t mean we can do it easily.  

I turned to the wise advice of William Bridges, author of “Managing Transitions – Making the most of change”, who suggests it’s not the change we’re afraid of, it’s the transition. He offers that transition consists of three phases: Ending, Losing, Letting Go / The neutral zone / The new Beginning. Changes of any sort, even though they’re better for us, finally succeed or fail on the basis of whether the people affected do things differently. How do we let go of how we’ve always done things, go through that tough time between the old and the new, and come out doing things the new way?

Roll in the sand like Sally

Our Easter break was shared with family – including five children under ten yrs old. Needless to say, the Easter bunnybliss.JPG was rather busy in our house. We are still sweeping up sand, picking up little bits of foil from easter eggs, and finding little chocolate handprints on most clear surfaces!

This morning, as I poised with Windex and cloth in hand, ready to “clean up” and put things “back into order” I felt the prick of tears and a lump in my throat. Yesterday, my own little girl celebrated her 22nd birthday and it really doesn’t feel like such a long time since I was wiping her sticky fingerprints off the glass, hurrying her up to get ready for school, rushing her through her homework, and longing for her to grow up and be independent so I could get on with whatever was important at the time (which you can be sure wasn’t related to cleaning clear surfaces). It prompted me to search for the famous little poem that most parents receive with a handprint from their kids in Year Two.

“Sometimes you get discouraged
Because I am so small
And always leave my fingerprints
On furniture and walls
But every day I’m growing
I’ll be grown up some day
And all those tiny handprints
Will surely fade away
So here’s a little handprint
Just so you can recall
Exactly how my fingers looked
When I was very small.”

I learned a lot during this last few days from five very young teachers. Sally taught me to examine everything up really close – especially your sticky hands. She also taught me to laugh outrageously at nothing really obvious, and to roll in the sand. Angus demonstrated the importance of being an adventurer, of pursuing your passion with energy and not to be discouraged by the odd bump on the head or falling flat on your face in the water. Timmy encouraged me to be creative with food – that things that at first glance don’t appear to go together can be quite delicious! Lily reminded me to just pick up the pencils and draw without being anxious if you have the right colours, or have put the lines in the wrong place. Lara showed me the benefits of flexibility and adaptability – that if you are open and willing, everyone can be a great playmate. If you have diverse interests you’ll always have a friend to share the fun with.
It’s Friday afternoon – I’m off now to roll in the sand while there’s still some light.

Everyone is a Genius

This week I stumbled upon a local artist who teaches - and before my self-doubt could get in the way, I booked into his Wednesday class. I had never painted with oils before, and it was with some trepidation and much excitement I opened the little wooden gate and entered his studio. All the places were set-up with paint on palettes, boards on easels, ready for his students to take their places. The love and care that had gone into the preparation was evident, and as the 6 other students arrived, I could hardly contain myself. I was the “newbie” - a little over dressed, and naively under prepared for how messy the process can be. A delightful lady was quick to give me a painting shirt, and I was all set.

Under the expert guidance of a master teacher, I watched in awe as 7 masterpieces unfolded. We were all painting a scene from Hinchinbrook Island and Peter patieMy paintingntly and lovingly made every student feel like they were Rembrandt.  Even when one person mixed far too much blue into the yellow, when another kept asking him questions he’d already answered, and yet another spilled their turps he stayed calm and positive.  It was great to leave the lesson with a painting to be proud of, yet it was the energy and vitality that was residual for the rest of the day and into the next day that amazed me. I reflected on what it was that made it such an uplifting experience… it wasn’t the high from the smell of the oil paints, it wasn’t that the painting itself was pretty good, it wasn’t even the comraderie or conversation even though that was fabulous too. It was the energy that comes from positive acknowledgement, from being recognised as special, affection without affectation, and having someone hold the vision for me that success was possible whilst I struggled to imagine it for myself! Peter expected that everyone would do well. He sincerely believes in the genius in each of us.

In our leadership workshops, we state several key assumptions at the beginning of a program - one of which is “assume everyone is a genius”. This creates interesting reactions - from agreement to outright indignation and audible gasps of disbelief. Participants are so uncomfortable with this assumption, that we suggest they score the statement with a level from 1 - 10 (1 being totally disbelieving and 10 being in total agreement) on day 1. By Day 4, they usually adjust their score upwards and closer to 10!

How would your work and home life improve if you embrace this assumption? Try it for a week, and I promise you will be surprised and delighted.

The Inaugural World Leadership day - Igniting the leader within

The highlight of my week was my participation in the inaugural World Leadership Day, an inspiring, thought-provoking, intimate and confronting day of dialogue, presentation, reflection and connection with like-hearted people. This event came from the vision of an amazing woman, Elisabeth Gorstchacher, who dares us all to “step up and lead from our authentic place in the sun”.

Elisabeth, with fabulous support from Meg Campbell Dowling and Jean Woo, generously guided us through the discovery of our Spirit Archetypes – a taste of the impact and momentum that can be harnessed by knowing your “Personal Branding DNA”. 

She is passionate that each of us take ownership of our unique offering to the world, and promises that when we connect with what we’re truly here to do, it changes our whole life.” Elisabeth is a wonderful example of her work in action,  and knows that there is a leader in every person. If we want to know the most wonderful source of renewable energy, then it is us!

We also learned from a diverse range of leaders who shared their stories and gave us real examples of visionary leadership in action. Margaret Wright, artist, author and consultant, shared quotes from the leaders she has interviewed in her soon to be released book, “Mistakes Happen, Make the most of them” as well as her inspirational personal story. She suggests there are three things leaders must Surrender – Competition, Control, and the need to be the best.

Aaron Caldwell, of Good Deeds International, had us spellbound with his example of Leadership In Action – his quest to save Vietnamese Rosa, and all children who are victims of slavery and persecution. Tears unashamedly flowed as he shared his emotional journey that enabled us to answer a convincing “Yes!” to the title of his address, “Can one person truly influence global positive change?” 

There was no after lunch drowsiness when Paul Gilding, CEO of Ecos Corporation Pty Ltd , co-CEO of Easy Being Green and activist for love,  gave us a wonderfully warm, sincere, high energy presentation on what it takes to be an agent for change! He gave us a warts-and-all account of his lifelong passion for making a difference, delivered with such humility, compassion and acknowledgement that he wasn’t always “right” and made mistakes along the way. He has a company with a clear purpose, compelling vision, and warns potential employees that if they need security and certainty, then apply elsewhere. Paul’s key tips for leadership are:

1. Make the purpose real – talk about it, live it every day and

2. Love your people!

A panel discussion encouraged dialogue with all participants, and wonderful insights into what it takes to lead into the 21st Century. Elisabeth’s vision for World Leadership Day to be a recognised annual event is manifesting – it’s happening again on 20th March 2008. Mark the date in your diary, and I look forward to celebrating with you.

Were you here for the 1955 floods?

Last week I had the pleasure of working with a group of leaders in a country town – a vibrant community in Australia’s glorious Hunter Valley whose livelihood depends mostly on the mining, wine and tourism industries. Each person in the workshop is actively involved in community service, their energy, optimism and commitment to service is inspirational.

We were discussing the attitudes of “locals” to “blow-ins” (i.e. people who reside in the town who were actually born there, as were their parents and grandparents before them) versus those who had come from outside – the “transients”. Despite having settled there, building homes, having children and sending them to the local schools (some of these people have been in the community for more than twenty years) they are still just “blow-ins”. Interestingly enough, these very same people were the majority on the boards of the local service organisations, the ones who give generously of their time and expertise to ensure that there is a prosperous future for their children (and all the children in the town). One of my participants shared the story of having a “local who was born there” explain to him very seriously that he couldn’t consider himself a “real local” unless he was here for the 1955 flood!

As I drove the few hundred kilometres home, I couldn’t help but reflect on how these ingrained attitudes, whilst appearing to be said lightheartedly, perhaps even delivered with the good old friendly Aussie back-slap, continue to separate and divide. In our organisations, how often do we diminish and ignore fresh ideas when they come from “newbies”? In our lives, how often do we reject “new wisdom” because “you just don’t know what it’s really like – you haven’t been here long enough!”

In a workshop the following day (same company) a talented young man dismissed his opinion by saying, “… but I’m just a trainee”. I challenged the use of the word just… after all, what better place to view an organisation from than that of an enthusiastic new “trainee” - keen to learn everything about his new role, thrilled to have been considered for a position straight out of school, and filled with a passion for possibility that hasn’t yet felt the sting of rejection often enough to stop putting forth his ideas. Then, it gave me an excuse to refer to the delicious Johnny Depp in “Finding Neverland” - the scene where he dances with his dog, Porthos, explaining that he is a dancing bear in the circus. Little Peter dismisses the act by saying,

“That’s absurd. He’s just a dog”… and in his most gorgeous accent, Johnny Depp stops horrified….”just a dog? Porthos dreams of being a bear, and you want to shatter those dreams by saying he’s “just” a dog? What a horrible candle-snuffing word. That’s like saying, “He can’t climb that mountain, he’s just a man”, or “That’s not a diamond, it’s just a rock.”

Just.

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