What Makes Collaboration Work? - Part 2

by Miki Kashtan

This piece is a continuation of yesterday’s post.

Telling the Truth with Care

The founder of a start-up company brought to the workshop the challenge he had about having a sales person whose judgment calls he doesn’t always trust. What can he do to move towards a collaborative experience with this employee?

Sometimes the most important thing about collaborating is truth telling. Often enough we avoid telling the truth because of fear of hurting other people. This is because we’ve been trained to believe that truth and care are mutually exclusive. Instead, I aim for truth with care. In order to find a way to shift the dynamics with the employee, I invited everyone at the workshop to imagine themselves being that employee, and what they would want to hear from the founder in such a situation. Within moments we came up with several ways to present the truth. One example: “I have some concerns about how you respond to some situations. I want us to work together well, and I want to support you in being successful in this job. Are you open to reviewing a few situations together so we can get more alignment around our priorities?”

More generally, whenever we have a difficult message to deliver, we can imagine being the other person, really and truly stepping into their proverbial shoes. From within that perspective we can often feel directly what would register as care, what’s necessary to say or highlight to make room for the truth to be digestible. It’s never about compromising the truth; it’s only about framing it in a context of collaboration.

Shared Ownership of Outcome

One young facilitator in a hi-tech area brought forward the challenge of having very acrimonious meetings, full of arguments and without any clear resolution. She was daunted by the prospect of navigating such a meeting to a collaborative spirit.

In polarized situations one key skill is particularly helpful – the ability to hear the dream, vision, value, need, or goal that is hidden behind the different opinions. For example, let’s say that we are in a meeting to evaluate two different software platforms, and someone says: “This product sucks. They haven’t been supporting it for years.” What I hear is that what’s important to this person is reliability in terms of tech support. Or if someone says: “It’s so boring, there’s nothing to it,” I hear that they want a product that’s innovative or has complex functionality. Why is this capacity important? Because moving towards something has more potential for getting people together than arguing about what’s not working.

Once we verify with each person that we got clearly what’s important to them, the next step is to generate one list with all that’s important. This, then, becomes the list of criteria to use to evaluate the product in this case, or to evaluate any proposal that’s on the table more generally. Key to the success of this approach is to create one list with the core qualities that are sought without any reference to the specific product, direction, or strategy that’s being discussed. What then happens is that the group can move to shared ownership of the list, an act which gradually de-polarizes the group and shifts it into an orientation of finding, together, a solution that meets as many of the criteria as possible. In that way we support collaboration even in a charged context.

Learning to Collaborate

Most of us have been raised to work alone and in competition with others. I have a lot of compassion and tenderness for our efforts to collaborate without having all the necessary tools, and I feel passionate about providing these tools. I can only do so much online through this blog. To move more clearly towards transforming our work lives and making collaboration be the norm in our society, I am collaborating with a group of other NVC trainers to create the Making Collaboration Real retreat and optional yearlong program that’s starting next month.

As part of our vision, we want to transform the way businesses deal with money, and we are committed to modeling this transformation in our own practice around money. Now that the curriculum for the program is ready, I am itching to make this unique opportunity available to more people. If you are drawn to participate in this retreat or program and cost is the only reason you would not attend, please read our brief philosophy about money, and contact us to talk about how to make attendance at this program possible for you.

The depth and level of detail of the curriculum leave me in awe about how much is needed in order to make collaboration work. I am so excited to have a coherent and systematic way that collaboration can be taught, experienced, and practiced. I have confidence that with focus and dedication we can all master the art of collaboration at all levels.

What Makes Collaboration Work?

by Miki Kashtan

Why is collaboration so difficult and tenuous for so many people? Since we are so clearly social animals, wouldn’t we naturally know how to collaborate?

In the last several weeks I have been deeply immersed in learning and teaching about collaboration. I participated in planning and leading the Making Collaboration Real conference, and noticed the immense hunger people had for more tips about how to do collaboration. I attended the Social Venture Network gathering, where I led a breakout session about collaboration, I led one other workshop on collaboration at the Hub SoMa, and I have worked with people struggling to collaborate effectively.

I heard the entire gamut of challenges: from performance reviews to decision making, from interpersonal relationships to leadership styles, from online relationships to in-person group meetings, and from innermost experience to how systems are set up. I now can say more clearly than ever that in today’s workplace effective collaboration is an accomplishment rather than a given. Here are some snippets from my recent weeks with some tips you can use to increase your chances of collaborating successfully.

Full Responsibility

I often hear from people something to the effect that they can’t collaborate with someone because of that person’s actions, choices, or communication. For myself, I hold that if I want to collaborate with someone the responsibility is on me to make that collaboration work. In tough moments I remind myself that I am the one who wants to collaborate, and therefore I want to take the responsibility for making it happen. The less willingness another person has, the more presence, skill, and commitment are required from me. Expecting fairness interferes with the possibility of collaboration. Instead of thinking about what’s fair, I think about what’s possible in any situation given the level of skill and interest that all the players have. Sometimes this may be more than I want to do, in which case I may choose not to collaborate. I still know that it’s my choice, and not the other person’s limitations, which end the collaboration. This orientation has helped me tremendously to the point of carrying no resentment to speak of even in situations that break down.

Making Use of Input

In one of the workshops a senior program officer in a high-profile non-profit organization talked about dreading the experience of bringing her ideas to her team. The reason? They usually don’t like what she says, then she sits and endures their input despite the pain without saying anything to them, and finally she thanks them for the input and makes whatever decision she makes.

One way of transforming such a challenge is to be proactive about the kind of input that we want. For example, when she proposes a plan, she can start by saying that she wants to hear a few people express only what they like about the proposal. Providing specific positive comments supports her in relaxing, and supports the others in connecting more with the reason the proposal is there in the first place. Then she can ask the team to name those areas that they don’t like and for which they have concrete suggestions for improvement. This builds a sense of movement and possibility. Finally, she can ask for any additional concerns for which people may not have a solution. By then enough goodwill gets generated that the group can look at those concerns together and brainstorm suggestions with her. She is then not alone and overwhelmed with so much input without solutions. And everyone has the experience that their input is valued. In that way she leads them to collaborate.

I plan to post the 2^nd part of this post tomorrow, with two more tips: how to tell the truth with care, and how to create shared ownership of the outcome.

Facts, Controversies, and Change of Mind – Part 2

by Miki Kashtan

This is a continuation of yesterday’s post.

Can Facts Settle a Controversy?

When emotionally charged controversies are at play, even when agreement on the facts is possible, it’s unlikely to lead to any settling of the real issues, because beyond the facts comes the meaning we assign to them.

For example, I have been in an ongoing conversation with a colleague about the healthcare situation in the US. We have absolutely no disagreement about the basic facts of there being dozens of millions of people who have no or low access to adequate healthcare. However, the meaning of this fact remains fully divided between us. Is it government stepping in that has created this, or government stepping out? Is it more important to provide care, or more important to support autonomy?

To come back to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, whatever facts we can possibly agree on are always seen through the lens of the framing story. That story informs what we see as cause of anything, how we evaluate the actors, and how we want to respond. A bomb explodes inside Israel. Is it a terrorist act designed to kill Israeli civilians and demoralize the people who are trying to live in peace in their land, or is it an act of a courageous freedom-fighter who believes no other way exists to call attention to the plight of Palestinians? If you believe the former, your response is likely to be doing whatever is necessary to protect life. If you believe the latter, you are more likely to want to be in dialogue to end the conditions that make life hard for Palestinians.

Given this wrinkle, I would much rather focus on attempting to create mutual understanding about matters of meaning than about the facts. I simply don’t see that facts can serve that big of a role in reaching across an opinion difference, a point to which I come back momentarily.

This is the primary reason why I wrote the original article the way I did: I was trying to uncover and connect with the underlying meaning for both parties. Our habit is to point to what we think of as “gross mis-statements of fact” and to believe that once the facts are settled, the rest will logically follow.

What I try to focus on, instead, is to understand this: if the other person agreed with you on the facts, what would be the meaning of that? What is underneath that wish for shared reality? What is it that you want to be seen for that what you think of as facts illustrates for you? This is the level at which I hope dialogues can happen. I trust what I have seen come out of such dialogues.

Do Facts Lead to Change of Minds?

In my work with volunteers in the Campaign to establish a US Department of Peace, I was repeatedly faced with the focus everyone puts on what they are going to say, such as the arguments they are going to present to support the proposed legislation or the facts and figures they can cite to make a case for the campaign. I have rarely met an activist who is trained in how to listen, or in being able to engage with others at the level of the deeper meaning that facts, arguments, and counter-arguments represent.

In the absence of engagement with the deeper layers, any fact and any argument can be subsumed into a pre-existing worldview without challenging it. It is well known that even hard core scientists are happily living with counter-arguments to the theory they espouse in their scientific field. You only need to read The Structure of Scientific Revolutions to see how widespread and intrinsic to the development of science this phenomenon is. Of course, here I am doing the exact same thing: citing a book, making an argument, pointing to facts…

I have been monitoring when I or others are being asked for reference for something we say. This rarely happens when the person asking for the reference is in agreement, except when they want the reference to be able to refute someone else’s position… Rather, people ask for a reference when what I or others say is not in alignment with their worldview. This is just one small example of how the underlying story of life that we have affects how we listen to everything.

So what is the alternative? The long version is likely to be a topic for another day. The short version for me is simple. I aim for mutual understanding rather than change of mind. When I enter a dialogue I remind myself that unless I am truly willing to change my own mind, I have no business asking the other person to change theirs, no matter how much I may think that my position is right and theirs off. I aim to see the humanity of someone with whom I disagree, and support them in seeing mine, because that is the best foundation for creating connection. It is, indeed, my belief that when we change our minds it is usually over time, in relationship with something or someone about which we care, and when we experience a respectful invitation. It is my hope that my work can contribute to more such conversations happening in the world.

Facts, Controversies, and Change of Mind – Part 1

by Miki Kashtan

In response to my blog piece In Appreciation of Complexity, I received 6 comments on this blog and 5 on the Tikkun blog where I am cross-posted. I read them all with great curiosity and interest. I am grateful to everyone who wrote back. I have no capacity to explain to myself, let alone others, why one comment caught my eye enough to want to respond.

Here’s the original comment from Susan B. posted on March 6th:

“Well, no, actually, those arguing against the Goldstone report are not asking for recognition of millennia of suffering.

Rather, they are objecting to the gross mis-statements of fact, which have been pointed out in various other documents, including reports and information that were available to the Goldstone commission before their report was published.

There have been many things written about the many factual errors and omissions in the Goldstone report, which led to incorrect conclusions, as well as their apparent misunderstanding of international law in regard to what is or is not a war crime.

So, maybe he was brave to take the job, but the problem is that he botched it badly.”

Given the focus of my work, which is much more on how we hear each other, how we come together across differences, how we learn to hold everyone with care, I am not planning to get into the actual content of the Goldstone report and what critics have said.

Even without the specific focus of my work, I wouldn’t likely get into the details, because I see so much complexity in how facts figure in major controversial issues. This is what I do want to write about. I hope that Susan finds some understanding in what I say below.

What Counts as Facts?

I am far from the first person to point out that more often than not controversies are so difficult to even talk about because part of what’s being disputed is reality itself. In the context of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, here are some perennially unresolved questions of fact:

• What really happened in 1948? There are at least two stories, and they clash. I am not going to spell them out here, because the references are ubiquitous and the details are complex on both ends.
• Who is victim and who is oppressor? Here I am familiar with at least three stories:
• Tiny Israel is fighting for its capacity to exist against a largely hostile vast Arab world backed up by an even larger Islamic population.
• Palestinians were kicked off their land by Zionist imperialist colonizers backed up by world superpowers.
• Two peoples live on the land, both with painful histories, and they are struggling over a piece of land without seeing each other’s humanity.
• Who is ready for peace? Here the stories are endless:
• Neither side is ready. There will never be peace, and they will drag the world down with their obstinacy.
• Palestinians are ready and have been willing to compromise so much and can’t go any further when Israel is totally entrenched in maintaining the status quo and unwilling to negotiate.
• Israel has been waiting for decades for a partner, and there is really no one who wants to talk about peace, because in reality all they want is to eliminate the state of Israel.
• No side will come to the table until they are forced, and it’s never too early to impose a solution.
• Given the challenges both parties face, better options are necessary to make dialogue palatable. When the invitation is authentic, when good facilitation is available, and when they can be fully heard, peace will flourish.

And the list goes on.

The lesson for me here is that what counts as fact is always within a particular frame of reference. Our notions and wishes color what we see. And so it doesn’t surprise me that people completely disagree about the Goldstone Report on the factual level.

I plan to post the 2^nd part of this post tomorrow, addressing two more questions about the role of facts in controversial issues. One is about whether facts can settle a controversy, and the other is about whether facts lead to change of minds.

Hubris, Fukushima, and Our Future

by Miki Kashtan

Despite decades of news fasting, I have been following the situation at Fukushima quite closely since the earthquake on March 11^th. I am neither an expert on the field, nor do I think that there is much that hasn’t been said already about the situation, and so I don’t plan to say a whole lot about the situation itself. What I want to write about instead is how the situation is being talked about – or not, as the case may be.

Reporting about Fukushima

For the first number of days, updates about the situation appeared frequently. A Wikipedia article was created that kept a timeline of the events and was being updated many times a day.

In the last few days I see two developments in going in opposite directions. On the one hand the situation at Fukushima appears to me to be worsening. I hear of significantly higher doses of radiation showing up in more and more places. I hear of plutonium seeping into the ground. I hear of radiation-contaminated water preventing access to cooling the reactors, and of an incredibly delicate balancing act between keeping the contaminated water from overflowing and keeping the reactors cool enough. I hear of partial meltdowns and possible nuclear fission that’s happened. I hear of no clear big-picture plan for how to turn things around. I hear of decisions that had been made that are now being questioned. I even hear of the government considering taking control of the plant because of dissatisfaction with the efforts on the part of TEPCO, the plant operator.

On the other hand the updates are less and less frequent, and are less and less prominent in the news.

I struggle to make sense of this. It’s far from the first time I have had a similar experience. I have noticed that in general we only hear about some place in the world when there is war or other disasters, and then that place disappears. This time, though, we are less about a situation that’s continuing to get worse. Why is that? Is it because someone, somewhere, decided that the situation in Libya is “more important” and therefore the instability and protracted crisis in Fukushima is demoted? Is it because someone, somewhere, decided that people don’t have the attention span?

I don’t have answers. I just know I find this unsettling.

Thinking about Fukushima

Early on in the unfolding of the Fukushima tragedy, someone sent me a link to Brave New Climate – a blog written by Barry Brook, an Australian professor of Earth and Environmental Sciences. The general message of that blog is that the way of the future is nuclear, and that nuclear is the only antidote to climate change. As I read the original post, still struggling to make sense of anything that I was hearing about Fukushima, I found the attempt to reassure me that “there is no credible risk of a serious accident” did not reassure me in the least. Two days later Barry wrote the following: “My initial estimates of the extent of the problem, on March 12, did not anticipate the cascading problems that arose from the extended loss of externally sourced AC power to the site, and my prediction that ‘there is no credible risk of a serious accident’ has been proven quite wrong as a result. It remains to be seen whether my forecast on the possibility of containment breaches and the very low level of danger to the public as a result of this tragic chain of circumstances will be proven correct. For the sake of the people there, I sure hope it does stand the test of time.”

Being a scientist, after looking at the facts two days later, Barry admitted his error on the factual level. I don’t see any evidence, nor have I seen any since then, that he is questioning his process of thinking. From my perspective, if his prediction was wrong once, it could be wrong again, both about his immediate prediction, as well as about his overall approach to nuclear power.

I confess to having been haunted and obsessed by Barry’s blog. I haven’t given up hope that he and the many people commenting on his blog will start questioning their beliefs based on the increasing severity of the situation and their continuing inability to predict (as I understand things; I could be misinterpreting the severity or their predictions or both). For now, the general tone I have heard is that Fukushima is providing proof that the future is nuclear. The reason as I understand it from what I read is that every form of energy has risks, and that an accident like Fukushima has minimal risk compared to, say, the risks of using coal. Barry sees nuclear waste, for example, as an economic boon, a source of cheap energy for future nuclear plants that can use it. He also believes that renewable energy is not going to pan out as a serious alternate source of energy, and hence concludes that nuclear energy is the only alternative to climate change. The possibility of reducing consumption, even drastically, as a way to address climate change, is not part of the conversation on his blog.

What Do We Learn from Errors?

Ancient Greek tragedies contain numerous examples of hubris, which is often a reference to “actions of those who challenged the gods or their laws … resulting in the protagonist’s downfall.” (Wikipedia article) In modern parlance hubris is equated with a certain kind of pride or arrogance.

For some reason I cannot completely fathom, Barry’s error and his way of thinking about it have become a symbol for me of a particular form of hubris. We have come to believe that we can control nature, subjugate it to our wishes, and predict the results. We have come to believe that science and technology can offer solutions to every problem, even those caused by technology itself. We have come to idolize a certain form of “rational” thinking and to look down on emotions, needs, intuition, bodies.

I am scared by this kind of thinking. I care deeply about our species and about nature. I want us to thrive, and I want us to thrive within nature’s capacity. I see the way of thinking symbolized by Barry’s blog as having brought us, collectively, to the very challenging place we are in as a species. I am nervous to be writing this, and I still want to take the risk of doing it, because I am so desperately hoping that we will find a way to wake up and change course.

As I said earlier, I am not making any pronouncement about nuclear power and certainly not any predictions about Fukushima. I am worried, despite not having predictions, because substances that remain toxic for tens of thousands of years frighten me, especially when I read that no adequate solution has been found so far for storing the waste from nuclear reactors, Barry’s cheerful ideas about using nuclear waste notwithstanding. Worried or not, what I am most struggling to embrace, against the legacy that I, too, was born and trained in, is humility, the attitude of not knowing.

The Power of Collaboration

by Miki Kashtan

Everything that at some point is in the future eventually becomes the present and then the past. I know this is not major news for anyone, and yet the experience of it continues to amaze me each time. For some months now I had been inviting people to come to the Making Collaboration Real conference that took place this past weekend. Now that this conference is in the past, I want to share some of my highlights and what comes next.

Collaboration has become more and more of a stated goal or practice in many places. One of the things that became apparent to me during this conference is just how much we need to learn in order to achieve true collaboration. Perhaps counter-intuitively, in order to collaborate well we need to learn how to engage in conflict in a productive way. Sometimes when we are uncomfortable with conflict we end up acting indirectly, which may result in more pain and discomfort for others, sometimes even for ourselves, rather than face the discomfort directly. For example, today I heard from a friend about a former employee who is very dedicated to nonviolence and collaboration, and yet since this person left she has engaged in actions that stir up conflict and may result in punitive action directed at a former co-worker instead of coming to her supervisor to attempt a resolution. What would it take for all of us to learn to walk towards conflict so that we can find ways of working with those who are different from us or whose actions are upsetting to us?

Collaboration means learning more about power, and engaging effectively across power differences. One theme that showed up repeatedly is the isolation of people at the top of organizations, especially those who run the most traditional of them. Because others are afraid, those at the top don’t get full information; they hear more often than not an inauthentic “yes”; they are not challenged enough; and they are seen as the “enemy” which means that actual co-creation is less available to them. Ulrich Nettesheim presented a series of insights and practices for making the focus on human needs relevant to people who work at the top. All in all, I became even more aware than I was before how essential it is to relate to the goals, vision, and perspective of the person at the top in order to establish sufficient trust to get any openness to the power of connection and collaboration.

We also explored power from a different angle, when Edmundo Norte challenged us to look at our unconscious assumptions and perceptions about people different from us. We learned how being positions of power and privilege makes us less able to see the effects of our actions, and how essential it is to learn to engage others and invite their insights and wisdom, because they can see what we cannot. And when we are in a position of less privilege, how important and vital for the whole is our capacity to find courage to speak up. True collaboration appears to require both love and courage, speaking and listening, and changing our habitual ways of acting in the world so we can see and show more of what’s going on.

I was delighted to see how much of the conversation during the conference focused on systemic considerations, beyond looking only at individual needs. I have had a sense for some time now that the community of people who have been studying Nonviolent Communication have not been sufficiently informed about the organizational level, and I am delighted the word is now out for many that when humans form an organization something else is going on. Marie Miyashiro, organizational consultant, discussed her distillation of the needs and conditions that are essential for any organization to thrive: identity, life affirming purpose, direction, expression, and energy/resources. Gregg Kendrick, former business owner, inspired us with his personal story of how he applied the principles of Nonviolent Communication in his own business, and how he now supports other organizations in shifting into a paradigm of true collaboration using a combination of Nonviolent Communication and Dynamic Self-Governance. I was inspired and intrigued by his firm commitment to work only with those who are consciously ready to embrace the cultural transformation.

We also heard about two ongoing experiments with introducing Nonviolent Communication into large scale organizations that are only minimally committed to such change at the highest levels. While the trainings of people who work at the organizations are showing powerful results in terms of a variety of measures, the question of how to translate the successes into a shift in the structures of decision-making remains open. Whether internal to the organization, as Wes Taylor is, or an external consultant/trainer as Dian Killian is with her team of trainers, I am left with a great deal of curiosity about how far change can proceed without the explicit blessing of the person in charge, which loops back to the question about how connection with the person at the top can be made. I am glad that Jane Connor who works with Dian is conducting scientific research on their work at a Fortune 500 company.

Over the course of the conferences many people expressed a tremendous hunger for practical how-to’s that they could apply back in their own organizations. Two of the sessions we presented were more practical. Martha Lasley led us through a preliminary practice of coaching skills using the tools of Nonviolent Communication, and I modeled a decision-making process based on the principle of maximizing willingness, a way of making collaborative decisions that everyone can live with.

I am deeply committed to integrity between what we teach and what we practice. Because of that, my biggest personal celebration is the degree of collaboration that I experienced among the presenters. Some of us had never been in a room together, and yet we worked together to make this conference a success. We met every morning to reflect on how things are going and how we might adapt the flow of the conference to respond to feedback. We had several conversations in which we explored some differences in our approaches to the work, and I found our trust deepening as a result of these explorations, reaffirming my faith in the power of dialogue to metabolize and make use of differences. I know that it’s only through deep collaboration that we can truly rise to the challenge of the immense need we are facing on a global scale. I can’t wait to see how this collaboration will continue to unfold in the coming months and years.

If you are interested in seeing how you can learn about more collaboration in your workplace or consulting practice, come to our next informational call for the MCR yearlong program that starts in May.

Talking about Bullying

by Miki Kashtan

When I said “yes” to giving a keynote speech about bullying at a community conference put together by the Albany Unified School District in CA, I knew I could count on a global network of Nonviolent Communication trainers to help me. The biggest support I received was a deeply moving story about Zeke, a 16-year-old boy, member of the KKK, who was met with such empathy that he could recognize that his membership was an attempt to have connection with his father. Being understood as deeply as he was by my colleague Catherine Cadden was a new experience for Zeke. He came up to her after the event and said: “You know, that was the first time I felt fear begin to leave my body. I’m actually relieved.” Zeke ended up leaving the KKK after taking a deeper look at his choices.

I titled my talk For the Benefit of all Children: A Compassionate Perspective on Bullying, and started it with Zeke’s story (click here to see the talk on Youtube). I could see and hear the shock in the room when I mentioned his affiliation. As the story unfolded, I sensed that people were trying on the idea, so foreign to our habitual sensibilities, of meeting a KKK member with empathy. Unless, of course, one is a KKK member, in which case meeting many other people with empathy would be equally shocking. By the end of the talk I had a sense that the audience and I had been on a journey together. We went from an individual responsibility for and a punitive response to bullying to a community-based sense of responsibility and a systemic approach based on preventive and restorative responses. Understanding violence as an expression of unmet needs invited the audience to consider the possibility that having everyone’s needs cared for and more of them met would likely result in significantly less violence. Whatever is leading a person to bullying would not be attended to by being told it’s wrong and bad to bully. Especially given the strong association of violence with shame, as James Gilligan so lovingly calls us to consider in his book Violence: Our Deadly Epidemic and Its Causes, punishment can only increase violence, because it leads to more shame.

I ended the talk with a vision of possibility. In this vision schools are structured in a way that maximizes children’s physical safety. When transgressions happen, both the child who bullied and the child who was bullied know they will be accepted and supported in finding reconnection.      The child who was bullied has hope that s/he can express her/his vulnerability and pain, and that it matters to the community. The child who bullies has support in finding other ways to get her/his needs met. The child who bullies also has hope that there is a place in the community for her/him. No one is ostracized. The community has a way to talk about behaviors that harm others without making the person who did the harming bad or wrong. The sense of a community caring for everyone is maintained even through hard times.

I have so much faith that in such a community fewer and fewer children will resort to violence, because they will have ample other avenues to meet their needs.

If the audience indeed went on a journey with me, I also went on a journey with them. Being a visionary for so many years I have gotten into a tragic habit of assuming that people will ridicule or oppose my vision. I believe I spoke this time without compromising my message and without alienating people, at least as far as I could tell through my interactions with the audience. To do so I had to muster enough trust and confidence to assume that people will join me on this journey, to counter my habitual assumption to the contrary. I walked from the place of being all alone in the world to a place of trusting that there is room for me in this world and in this community that invited me to speak. Like the person who bullies, or the one bullied, I want to trust my belonging. I can see now that the invisible expectation of not being heard, not having room, not finding commonality, may well be a self-fulfilling prophecy and make it harder for me to connect fully with others. I hope to be able to apply this lesson in every area of my life.