The Unspoken

Putting a lid on problems is a temporary solution

Things that are not dealt with or processed invariably build up to a point where they explode.

First, the pressure tries to release itself sideways, damaging the structures it invades along the way. As the pressure increases, the organis(ation)(m) gets sicker.

Eventually, the structure cannot contain the pressure any more. The more rigid it is – and the more it hardens itself to try to contain the pressure – the bigger and more destructive the explosion.

What is holding me back from being an effective leader?

A leader is someone who does things without being told to do them. Someone who will risk doing, rather than staying safe in endless talking, researching and theorising.

Someone who will lead by example – setting the standard by having the courage to speak the unspoken and reveal the hidden.

For us, a leader is someone who will allow feedback to deconstruct what they think they know and open up to the rich discomfort of being wrong; uncertain; lost.

Has the credit crunch finally forced us to question where we’re going?

Yesterday I listened to some financial experts discussing the pros and cons of the proposed Loyds/TSB aquisition of HBOS.

What occurred to me were two things. First, that I don’t understand how any of this financial machine really works. Second, was a realisation that behind all those words, nor do they.

If they – or anyone – did, we wouldn’t be in this situation.

If you look at the results we’ve created so far (a planet on the edge of catastrophe, global economic chaos, religious and ideological intolerance fuelled by technological and chemical addiction) you’d be forgiven for believing this machine ain’t working.

For many, this picture is work – that part of the machine designed to turn the world and people into stuff we can use to fill the holes we carry around with us.

For others, this picture is human evolution; humanity consuming itself in a frenzy of uncontrollable hunger.

Like our hitherto esteemed financial institutions.

The mindless pull of technology

I don’t care about whether whether technology is considered good or bad. What matters to me is how I feel about it.

Leaving the wonders and the horrors of technology aside (and there are infinite examples of both) there’s one feeling that’s everpresent for me and that’s being pulled by the current of technology faster and further than I want.

It’s like drowning in paradise. The water’s cool, clear and the palm-fronded beach is idyllic but you’re still being dragged further from safety, growing weaker by the minute.

This picture is how I feel when I find that the version of Wordpress I’ve learned to use to build sites like this has been upgraded (with no appreciable benefit or motivation other than it must be upgraded!) with the result that it doesn’t actually work properly.

What was wrong with the previous version? Nothing. What’s wrong with this one? The image uploader doesn’t work, forcing me to resort to a time-consuming work-around.

Technology, with its every-five-minutes upgrade that we didn’t want or need, destroys any possibility of being with the tools we use. How can we develop deep expertise and true craft with techonology when the tools in our hands morph every three weeks?

And for me, there’s nothing more depressing than the great ‘technology-will-fix-the-environment’ cheese towards which our cultures are heading.

A real quote from real people in a real business meeting.

A crusade against the evils of the intangible! A jihad on all that which cannot be measured!

This is one of those moments when intention and jargon combine to assume the qualities of a crusade, exhorting people to take up arms to fight for something they would struggle to describe. To fight – and die – for an idea that they dare not resist or object to. You’re either with us, or you’re against us.

Here, the believer. There, the unbeliever.

Compromise means we both have to move

Sometimes a picture can render something inarguable. This is a picture of compromise.

Compromise means that we meet each other in a place that neither of us is familiar with – or comfortable in. In order to meet in this place, we both have to do some hard work.

If I start building a bridge but you don’t, my efforts will either collapse into the abyss or I will arrive at your territory but you will not have changed or learned anything.

The only way this is going to work is if we are both courageous enough to start out into the unknown at the same time.

If we do then the bridge we build will be strong and will serve to connect our worlds for a long time.

If we don’t, neither of us will experience the true value of compromise.

(As part of an emotionally-controlled diet)

When I see this picture, I see the shadow of the family starving from lack of connection and love as the business man hides himself behind the screen of rationality, profit and performance.

For me, the figures at the table are children robbed of the time we give to business; our dream of power control, profit – and some kind of future where everything will be better.

The Power Breakfast is a picture of absence – of someone trading presence in the moment for chasing the future.

And if power doesn’t suit you, can you admit to it?

How many of you have arrived at the top of your status ladder only to find that the suit you’re wearing is wearing you out?

Or found yourself wondering about all those people who were so eager to help you on with it?

Does the acquisition of power fulfil you in the ways you hoped it would? And who can you speak about this with?