Image Description: Cartoon-style illustration of a person with long blond hair, dressed in a blue sweater, white pants, and green sneakers, watering a potted plant that’s sprouting leaves and gold coins. By Ayush Kumar via Unsplash.
“Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself, others by first do no harm or take no more than you need. What if the mightiest word is love? Love beyond marital, filial, national, love that casts a widening pool of light, love with no need to pre-empt grievance. In today’s sharp sparkle, this [season’s] air, any thing can be made, any sentence begun. On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp, praise song for walking forward in that light.”
From “Praise Song for the Day” by Elizabeth Alexander
As we help support the weaving of various kinds and scales of networks with focus on different social and environmental issues, one refrain we continue to hear at IISC from those who are at the core of these efforts is that they need more resources and they want more resource providers to understand the power and importance of investing in networks. So, why invest in networks and network weaving now? Here are five essential reasons:
Because We Are Networks. We literally live and breathe because of the many networks we are a part of. “Nobody but nobody makes it out here alone,” Maya Angelou wrote. Social-ecological connectedness and exchange are a baseline determinant of health and wellbeing of all kinds – from our bodies/minds/spirits to our families/neighborhoods/communities to local/regional economies. Think in terms of the mycelial networks that are essential (and until recently, very much under-appreciated) for their contribution to soil health, which translates into nourishment of various kinds for humans and other species. If we do not tend to this foundation, we will see all of our hopes for anything better blow away like so much dust in the wind.
Because Imagination Thrives Through Connection and Exchange. Our overall consciousness and ability to imagine the better is strengthened through warm relationship and generous sharing. To support this, we must invest in convening, different avenues for ongoing communication and grounding our individual and collective nervous systems in a state of relative regulation. These are the key conditions that allow humans to do what we have done for eons: pool information, share understanding, and iterate our way forward through cooperative learning (do, reflect, redo).
Because Our Economies and Ecologies Are Failing Without Them. We need new patterns of connection and flow to ensure equitable wellbeing for all parts of the collective human body and our more-than-human kin. As Dr. Sally J. Goerner writes, “We should care about [growing] inequality because history shows that … concentration of wealth at the top, and too much stagnation everywhere else indicate an economy nearing collapse.” Furthermore, extractive economics that ignore impacts on ecosystems and other species will continue to harm and ultimately kill the host (our Mother) that sustains us all.
Because Movements Are Calling for Them. From frontline movements for human rights, social/climate justice, and Indigenous sovereignty, we’re hearing that there is an ethical imperative to invest in distributed leadership development and right relationship that counters the cult of hyper-individualism, competition, and “doing for and to.” And there is a recognized need among movement leaders to build broad-based solidarity through these trust-bound connections to confront the common enemy of humanity – sociopathic/ecocidal greed and self-serving power.
Because the Future Depends on It. Resilience is no static goal; it is a dance of evolution, reweaving, and collective learning. There is a need to invest in the evolution and reweaving of – and between – truly inclusive democratic institutions that can serve as the anchors for regenerative development, collective learning, and adaptation going forward. Funding network-weaving positions to support these vital processes isn’t just smart, it’s visionary.
There are other reasons that we might add to this list, but honestly, if these five do not grab the hearts and minds of funders/investors, that would seem to further illustrate the plague of disconnection and dissociation that has infected so many of us. Resistance and protest because of concerns about “return on investment” (ROI) is simply short-sighted and narrow in its understanding of system dynamics and the new science of sustainability. What this “energy system and flow network science” tells us is that:
Long-term prosperity is primarily a function of healthy human and more-than-human webs.
The stories we tell ourselves about how the world works are one of our greatest survival tools – so let’s get that (network) narrative right!
The next phase of human evolution is largely based upon our ability and willingness to both learn and reorganize ourselves with more diversity, intricacy, collaborative coherence, robust sharing, and greater resulting collective intelligence.
If you want to step into this light with us, join our upcoming webinar:
“Light Work for Heavy Times: Networks as Fuel for Long-Term Collective Wellbeing” on July 15th from 1:00-3:00 pm EST. Register here.
Image Description: An illustration of a top-level view of people walking outside, casting long, dark shadows that stretch next to them. By Graphicook Studio via Unsplash+
“The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love — whether we call it friendship or family or romance — is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other’s light. Gentle work. Steadfast work. Life-saving work in those moments when life and shame and sorrow occlude our own light from our view, but there is still a clear-eyed loving person to beam it back. In our best moments, we are that person for another.”
Maria Popova
These are simultaneously challenging and promising times. These are times in which low vibrations and descendant energies seem to be everywhere. At the same time, offers of higher vibration and ascendant energy exist in many places. In the words of a teaching I recently received from the Brahma Kumaris – “A big old tree coming down makes a loud noise; while the planting and nurturing of seeds goes on in relative quiet. Where are you putting your attention?”
Of course, it is important to defend against efforts that are intended to harm people and to take away their sovereignty. And there is a point at which, if we are all or only responding to negativity, we let that energy set the terms of the conversation and what moves forward. As another teaching goes from Father Richard Rohr – “The best critique of the bad is the practice of the better.”
By now, many of us are on to the tactics being used by those who seek to control the vast majority of humanity that stands for a more just and inclusive society that lives in right relationship with our more-than-human kin. The strategies used by the sick minority include generating fear, which can fuel isolation predicated about threats and misinformation. When these tactics work, people find themselves giving in to the darkness that they sense is growing around them.
But the light is always present, in and around us. What may be required is some fuel. This is where we at IISC see networks and network weaving playing an essential role. To counter forces that would isolate and keep us from one another, we might make and maintain contact with one another. To keep fear from taking hold, we might bring warm-heartedness and generosity to our interactions with one another. To support collective clarity, we might share accurate and timely information with one another and remind each other of what matters most. This is all the work of network weaving, which we might see in our current context as “light work.”
In July 2025, we will host a webinar delving more into all of this with guests who are demonstrating the power of weaving connections, sharing resources, and bringing light and love to places that might surprise you. Stay tuned.
Image description: A colorful illustration of a pink, dark blue, and green mountain next to each other. The background is a pink sky with clouds and a dark orange sun. By Chloé via Unsplash.
On Friday, April 4th, Interaction Institute for Social Change was proud to partner with Food Solutions New England to host its Spring Gathering focused on “bridging work” to advance justice, equity, and fairness. Our guests for this gathering included Troy Sambajon, writer for The Christian Science Monitor, and Soma Saha, Executive Director of Wellbeing and Equity in the World. Between them, Troy and Soma focus their work on community-level efforts to create equitable change that prioritizes those who are least served/most marginalized while weaving stronger, more resilient social bonds that benefit all.
Our conversation centered on how certain people and places are defying mainstream media reports about how hopelessly divided we are as a country by reaching out to one another and engaging in creative “solutionizing” to address hunger, poverty, economic decline, and physical violence. The stories that were shared come from people and places that many might assume would be the last to do such work, including Israeli and Palestinian women and rural communities in the Deep South of the United States working with and on behalf of Black farmers. While not easy, there is no question that these efforts are happening. We at IISC also see this in the long-term consulting work we are doing in places like the Mississippi Delta, Fresno County, California (one of the most diverse areas in our country), and western Massachusetts, where a partnership focused on digital equity unites rural and urban communities and residents of all identities.
We might ask ourselves why these stories are not more widely shared. The answer seems to be that the dominant and evermore consolidated mainstream media tends to thrive on outrage (taking advantage of our innate negativity bias) and that wealthy owners maintain their position by fomenting division. Once you start following the money and information flows, the patterns become quite evident. We are being sold a story that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy if we choose to believe it and give in to fear, isolation and ongoing misinformation campaigns.
We might also ask how the places that Troy and Soma highlighted, and where we at IISC are working, are cutting through the media morass and stereotypes. Actually, we did ask that! What we heard and shared is that people in those places are willing to reach out to one another. Somehow, they can see or remember that we are all connected. And they make space for actual conversation to happen. These spaces are characterized by care-full tending to processes that always put relationships first, and where listening is crucial. In many cases, this includes at least some meeting time over a meal where people can break bread together. These processes also emphasize that “seeing one another as the problem” is not going to get people very far. Rather, they invite curiosity about systems and structures that are influencing all of us, and often pitting us against each other.
We did not have time to get into much greater depth about the processes that Troy and Soma see being implemented, but from the IISC perspective, we can share some other tips that can help to make things smooth when engaging people in tense and potentially divisive situations:
Do some kind ofbridging and outreach work in advance so that people are not cold-stepping into a shared space with one another. This could include interviews beforehand characterized by empathetic listening.
Pay attention to power dynamics, including who tends to be more central and more peripheral, can be important in terms of creating conditions for equitable engagement.
Make sure you have conversations in places that put people at ease and that are relatively easy to access. You might ask about this in those outreach and bridging interviews.
Have access to natural light and greenery when gathering in person to help settle people.
Sometimesplaying music can be helpful, provided it does not stir up nervous systems too much and has something that everyone might appreciate (you can crowdsource requests in advance).
As a facilitator, you might invite a few people to share something that is personally meaningful to them at the beginning of a conversation. This could be a poem, a memory, an object, or a short story. See more about “The Welcome Table” that we have done at the beginning of the Network Leadership Institute we have facilitated with Food Solutions New England.
Speaking of story, we often find that having some time at the beginning of a gathering for people to share a bit of their story can help to highlight commonalities and get mirror neurons activated. You can read more about this here.
Move slowly and encourage people to be okay with silence …
Invite people to pause between stimulus and response. This might look like asking people to take a step back and watch their reactions to what is happening in the course of the conversation.
Let people know that you are not asking everyone to believe the same thing or to force agreement. At the end of the day, behavior is what matters most, including how people treat one another. We can respect-fully agree to disagree on certain things and still live well together.
Most importantly, it feels foundational to continue to remember that most people share more in common than they do differences. As Mohawk elder Jake Swamp-Tekaronianeken once said, “In the end, everything works together.”
A black background features an abstract outline resembling the Earth at its center, with bold, vibrant flowers blooming within. Beneath it, overlapping circles in various colors create a dynamic, layered foundation. By Yeti Iglesias via Unsplash+
“Food for us comes from our relatives, whether they have wings or fins or roots. That is how we consider food. Food has a culture. It has a history. It has a story. It has relationships.”
Winona LaDuke
This past week, I had the opportunity to co-create and curate with my colleague Karen Spiller the first ever “food justice track” for the national conference hosted by The Privilege Institute (TPI) in Hartford, Connecticut. TPI has long been committed to helping people understand the systems of supremacy and oppression that continue to harm and marginalize growing numbers of people and our more-than-human kin, and to supporting “solutionizing” our way forward through diverse collaborations. As participants in and presenters at past TPI conferences, and as co-stewards of the Food Solutions New England’s Network’s equity leadership efforts, Karen and I were grateful to be invited by TPI founder Dr. Eddie Moore, Jr. to host this track on food systems and what they have to do with just, sustainable and thriving communities. And we are very thankful for the generous financial support provided by the RWJF Special Contributions Fund of the Princeton Area Community Foundation for this work.
Our track featured five sessions intended to ground people in historical and current impacts of efforts to control food, land and water in establishing caste systems and hierarchies of human value, as well as to highlight more humane, dignified and eco-logical alternatives for our collective food future. Our flow of offerings included workshops focused on:
“The Love Ethic” and Work for Food Justice, facilitated by Karen Spiller and yours truly under the auspices of both Food Solutions New England and the Interaction Institute for Social Change.
Right Relationship Across Race, Ethnicity, Gender, Class, Age, Geography and Sectors, hosted by Noel Didla and Liz Broussard Red of the Center for Mississippi Food Systems.
For a larger version of this food systems map, go to this link.
“If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with them. The people who give you their food give you their heart.”
Cesar Chavez
There was a lot of engaged discussion in and across the sessions, and a common commitment to creating spaces that could hold complexity and honor the multiplicity of our individual and collective selves (one definition we offer for “love”). Along the way, what surfaced was the power of focusing on food to help people understand more about where we are as communities, a country and world, and how we might move forward together. A few related reflections:
Appreciation was expressed in several sessions for helping participants understand food as a system. For even considerably educated people, the complex networks that bring food to our plates can remain largely invisible. Whether we are talking about farm/fisheries inputs, production, aggregation, processing, distribution, eating, or resource recapture, there is an amazing and diverse array of players and interactions providing us with our daily meals. This awareness can be empowering and help us understand that the daily choices we make as eaters really matter, and that some of us have fewer choices than others.
In most of our sessions, we invited people to consider and share stories related to food. Our experience is that this is always connective in a number of different ways. As a species we have long had shared stories around meals, such that there is much about eating that can bring to mind memories of various kinds. Through our work with Food Solutions New England, we have been encouraging people to share stories of joy related to food, which anyone can do through this “joy mapping” link. Even when memories around food are painful, feeling seen, validated and perhaps understood when we share them with others who have had similar experiences can be very helpful.
For some people, the notion of “food as medicine” was very eye-opening and inspiring. Nutritious food that is not simply caloric can be a balm for our bodies and spirits. The way we grow food can help heal the Earth, especially when we adopt regenerative approaches, including agroecological techniques. When we share a meal, it can bring us closer to one another and even heal divides or advance respect for and understanding of one another. And because food is intimately linked to culture, when we reconnect with and reclaim our food traditions and share them with others, it can be tremendously restorative.
It was also very eye-opening for people to understand that the dominant food system we have in this country is grounded in a legacy of colonialism, the plantation economy and extractive approaches that have repressed people’s foodways and controlled their diets. This continues today in many rural and urban communities where grocery chains and “dollar stores” owned by those from outside those communities import overly processed foods (bypassing local producers and more nutritious options), offer low-paying jobs often with challenging working conditions and extract profits from those communities. Furthermore, continued consolidation of food-related enterprises means that the rich keep getting richer while everyone else fights for scraps.
“Eating is so intimate. … When you invite someone to sit at your table and you want to cook for them, you’re inviting a person into your life.”
Maya Angelou
The good news is that there is much we can do as eaters, community members, voters and caring people to support food systems that promote equitable wellbeing and connect us to what matters most in life. This is what we pointed to in each of our workshop sessions, and that we will once again do through the annual Food Solutions New England 21-Day Racial Equity Habit Building Challenge, which starts on April 7th and for which IISC has been a core partner since its launch in 2015. The Challenge is free and open to all, and requires registration to receive daily emails and links to many resources focused on how we can build a “bigger we” for the more beautiful world we know is possible. There are also opportunities to be in virtual community with others participating in the Challenge. You can find more information here.
P.S. We have been invited to replicate and expand the food justice track at next year’s TPI Conference in Seattle, Washington. Stay tuned for more updates.
“Food is strength, food is peace, and food is freedom.“
Image description: A bold 2D illustration of a woman with dark brown skin and blue hair cradling a blue Earth and leaves amidst the night sky. By Yeti Iglesias via Unsplash+.
In times of great change and uncertainty, where can we turn for guidance for how to navigate? Well, it turns out there is a lot of wisdom that we can all tap into that comes in many different forms. And we don’t really need to stretch that far to access it. How do I know this? Because we have asked.
One of my favorite group check-in questions over the past month has been:
“Who (or what) is one important teacher you have had in your life, and what is one important teaching you have received from that teacher?”
People have really loved this question, both conjuring up beloved teachers in many different forms – formal teachers, family members, friends, mentors, pets, a favorite tree, a powerful experience – as well as sharing with and hearing from one others.
This is a taste of what came up in answer to the question over the past couple of weeks, which people agreed provided some solid grounding for them:
Stand in integrity.
Trust your gut/intuition.
Remember your purpose.
Always save a place for joy.
Honor the intelligence of your body.
Don’t let the knuckleheads get you down.
Be as clear as you can in your communication with others.
Sometimes you have to break big things down into smaller pieces.
Show you care by overcoming challenges and showing up.
Remember to laugh and take your mistakes lightly.
Remember the power of pausing and reflecting.
Remember there is always more to the story.
Don’t try to win the game … change it.
Forgive, both yourself and others.
In the end, love wins.
What about you? Who is a teacher you would lift up and a teaching from them that might be helpful to remember now and perhaps to share with others?
“Connections create value. The social era will reward those organizations that realize they don’t create value all by themselves. If the industrial era was about building things, the social era is about connecting people, ideas and things.”
-Nilofer Merchant (entrepreneur, business strategist, author)
Image description: A watercolor illustration of forest filled with mushrooms and trees whose canopies resemble mushroom tops. A winding path, glowing softly in yellow, leads deeper into the scene, inviting exploration. From Allison Saeng via Unsplash+.
Our new Communications Manager, Sandra Herrera, asked a great question the other day: “Why is network weaving needed now?” She wasn’t offering this as a doubtful challenge, but to help us to hone our messaging around why more people should consider the power of tending to connectivity in these times.
The first three things that occurred to me in answer to Sandra’s question were the following:
Isolation is hazardous to our sense of wellbeing; or viewed positively, connectedness is an important social determinant of health.
Crisis demands creativity and to be creative we need connectionsto others, and in particular to do bridging work with those of diverse experiences and perspectives.
Feeding other people with helpful and uplifting informationand resources, and seeking this from those around us, can bring both light and warmth to a world that can sometimes feel is lacking.
It is important to acknowledge that not every connection is necessarily good for us. We can be negatively impacted or harmed by those around us and by some of the information and energies that come our way. At the same time, it is also important to understand that we humans can be driven by a “negativity bias” that makes us overly vigilant about potential threats. While it might be wise to pull back into our comfort zone at times, hunkering down and only being with those who are like us sets up a trap of thinking and acting in predictable and limited ways.What’s more, if everyone pulls back, we lose access to latent potential and abundance.
Innovation happens through encounters with different experiences and ways of looking at the world. Sometimes to see clearly, we must over-compensate for our tendencies to shrink and stretch beyond our comfort zones to test some of our assumptions about the dangers “out there.”
For more on the adaptive cycle, see the work of C.S. Holling
The adaptive cycle (see image above) teaches us that as systems falter, unravel and release energy (which is necessary to remain vital and adapt to changing context), certain “critical connections” (to use the words of long-time community organizer Grace Lee Boggs) must be maintained. In addition, it is very important that investment be made in the seeding of new possibilities. In the human realm, this includes an infusion of positive exploratoryenergy. So-called “positivity” (see the work of clinical research psychologist Barbara Fredrickson, PhD) is not a pollyannish state removed from reality. Rather, it’s a stance of openness and curiosity that provides some balance to our negativity bias, which can help us to see possibility in other people and our surroundings for the sake of renewal and regeneration. In other words, the nature and quality of what we bring to and feed our connections really matters!
“Network theory suggests that what a system becomes emerges from the complex, responsive relationships of its members, continuously developing in communication.”
–Esko Kilpi (sociologist, process management consultant)
All of this is especially crucial right now, as the forces that are consolidating wealth and power attempt to disrupt attempts to build solidarity across movements for justice, fairness and equity. The study of “flow networks” applied to economics shows that we have been in this kind of “oligarchic cycle” before. Oligarchies (rule by the few) and “oligarchic capitalism” (an economic system run by and for the benefit of the elites) maintain themselves in part through the spread of narratives that justify growing disparities driven by sociopathic and extractive practices. Ideas like “the divine right of kings/capital,” “supremacy,” and “survival of the fittest” still have many believing that those who have a lot (not to mention way more than they need) somehow earned/deserve it.
The antidote to this is sharing a different story rooted in the historical view that humanity has evolved over centuries through a sense of mutualism, sharing and pooling information, learning collaboratively and cooperating creatively. The “winner takes all” approach does not stand up to our understanding of what contributes to long-term human thriving. All the more reason to weave more intricate and robust networks of all kinds.
Interested in learning more? Check out some of the hyperlinks above, and search for other posts on our website focused on “networks” and “network weaving.”
And consider joining us for this upcoming training on “Network Weaving for Social Healing in Times of Great Change” (March 27, 3:00-5:00 pm ET) or contact us to learn about other similar and related offerings that might be brought to your organization.
Over the past few months, three different networks IISC is helping to support have reached what we recognize is an opportunity to jump to the next level of engagement and “productivity.” I want to be clear that this latter term is not meant to be a “churn for churn’s sake” kind of productivity, but is rather about supporting wide-spread activity at the “local level” to create significant change.
These three networks have been around for anywhere from four to seven years, all having navigated the challenges of COVID and other turbulence. All three have been characterized by a core group of champions who are passionate about both the issue they are focused on and the power of broader community in question. These steadfast advovates have served as the glue amidst what has felt like fracturing forces. And now there is an emergence of new energy and interest, in part because of steady weaving activity, and also more opportunities for in-person gathering as well as a sense that they have made it through a real test of their staying power.
In our role as network consultants and coaches, we are given the opportunity to reflect back to these collaborative efforts what we see as critical capacities needed for the road ahead, including how to harness this growing enthusiasm and interest. What is coming up across these three networks is the importance of dedicated investment in core “network leadership” functions, including the following:
(1) Keeping the loop of communication going between and amongst the core and periphery of the network, including creating ways for people to find and stay in touch with one another (using tools such as Slack, list serves, and private LinkedIn groups).
(2) Crafting materials and curating resources to “feed” those most engaged in the network (who can then share these “nutrients” with others), including stories of progress and learning that can be fed back to the network.
(3) Managing and making accessible other information that is crucial to supporting network members and network activity (via network maps, searchable member/participant databases, etc.).
(4) Strengtheningcollaborative capacity amongst those who would like to be facilitators, process designers, network weavers, and group coordinators/project managers. Some examples of what we provide through IISC include Facilitative Leadership and Network Weaving trainings.
(5) Convening people at key moments, virtually and in-person, in care-fully designed and facilitated ways, to keep connections warm and momentum going.
Getting more funders and other supporters to understand the importance of these functions is key not only to these networks being successful, but we would argue it is fundamental to reweaving the social, cultural, and institutional fabric of our communities and country. See more here in the post “Weave Back Better: Investing in Network Weaving as Part of Core Infrastructure.”
“Find a river, that flows to the sea put your feet in the water, carry you home.”
-The Mitchell Twins, from the song “Find a River”
Last week I had the opportunity to hear a talk given by Kari Kastango, who is the first person known to have swum the length of the Connecticut River. She was the perfect kick-off speaker at a gathering of Rivershed protectors in my home region who are looking to grow and strengthen their efforts through what amounts to a network of networks. To me, Kastango’s talk set a wonderful foundation for this collaborative work, highlighting the importance of being in deeper relationship with the river itself, and taking guidance from this connection.
Kastango began her talk by saying that she was influenced from an early age by extreme athletes who tested the limits of human capacity. This led her to participate in various endurance events, such as “iron man” contests, and eventually to the idea of swimming the entire length of the Connecticut River. She shared that when she made the commitment she initially thought the river was around 200 miles in length. She then learned it was 410 miles. Her response – “Double the fun!” – was an affirmation of what has been coming through loud and clear for some months now – We can do hard things and sometimes the best thing to do is to run towards the danger.
As further illustration of this point, Kastango talked about how one summer she chose a couple days to swim a particularly challenging length of the river that fell between two hurricanes. With torrential downpours having stirred the waters into considerable turbulence, she learned that she should not fight the currents, but respect them, giving time to get a sense of the flows, and to go with those. The teaching that came through to me is that – even in what may feel like chaos and threatening conditions – a more coherent pattern can become evident if we are both patient and flexible.
Kastango also talked about how over time she became more observant, not simply of the waters and the sky, but other “kin” moving in and around the waters. Birds and other critters who are more familiar with certain environments and conditions have much to teach us if we choose to listen/watch/sense. Lesson – there is much wisdom to be learned from those who are indigenous to a place or land/waterscape, both human and more-than-human.
Another point I took away from Kastango’s talk was when she shared about getting toward the end of her swim. As she approached the Long Island Sound she said she could feel the pull of the larger waters. “It was like they were calling me home,” she said with a smile on her face. At that point she could relax more and let the waters carry her towards the sea. From this I heard that there can be a pull underlying our efforts to create change, or navigate challenge, and that this force actually wants to guide us to a “better” place, a place of greater belonging, beyond any of our efforts to force or even imagine.
Though she wrapped up her swim a year ago, Kastango said that after all those months and miles, she still feels the river in her. She still is in relationship with those waters. And that is why she tells her story – that others might develop that kind of special connection, that we not forget our more-than-human kin, and that more of us work to protect the rivers and other waterways that are (in the words of an Indigenous teacher) “the elixir of life.”
For those who live in and/or love the Connecticut River Watershed and want to learn more about the efforts to connect and protect, go to this link. And for some fun facts about Kari Kastango’s swim, go to this link.
As the fall season is soon to begin, I am about to mark the beginning of my (to this point) seven year journey since re-entering the “workforce” after experiencing clinical burnout and proceeding with an intentional rhythm aimed at more balance. This has entailed gradual, focused, and caring support from a range of healers as layers upon layers have sloughed off, revealing deeper wounds and cries for attention.
“The function of freedom is to free someone else.”
All this said, as I feel that much “lighter” and learn-ed in my process, I am reflecting on seven steps that have been and will continue to be core to this journey, including the work that my colleagues and I do to help weave the more beautiful world we know is possible.
🌀 Re-cognize: bring awareness to the realities of dis-ease and dis-association
🌀 Re-lax: breathe into this awareness, let what bubbles up come up; keep breathing
🌀 Re-lease: let go of what may have served and no longer does and that which never did
🌀 Re-claim: start inviting back those parts/aspects that have been ostracized and ignored
🌀 Re-member: embrace more and more of our underlying, essential and limitless identity
🌀 Re-surge: allow what has been regathered to both guide and deepen trust in our core
🌀 Re-cycle: this process is not linear but more of a spiral that can encompass others
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And as the poets often capture it better than anyone, I will end with this from Danna Faulds:
This post picks up where Part 1 left off. To read that post, go to this link.
In a recent conversation with a cherished elder, we got to talking about these times and the story of the caterpillar changing into the butterfly. In her usual no-nonsense way, she shared that she often hears people talking about the cocoon, and maybe something about the “imaginal cells” that get to work in the cocoon to create the beautiful butterfly form (so cool!). “What I don’t necessarily hear is that whole thing about destruction of the caterpillar body – it basically gets pulverized and turns into goo!” This followed by laughter (she laughs a lot). Right, the goo. Not a lot of talk about the goo, about the dis-integration of the previous body that is necessary for the new body to organize.
I have caught myself doing this, banging my head against the question “What is the next (and better) form of family, community, organization, institution, society, etc.?” without allowing for the necessary meltdown of old forms. A version of this old adage just came to mind – “Can you be patient enough to let the mud settle?” Sometimes. Hopefully a little more each day. As I spend a fair amount of time working with social change networks, I am trying to remind people I work with (and myself) that the work of “network weaving” is not simply about always reaching out, always bringing in more and supporting more growth, but also about stepping back, seeing what is, perhaps doing some pruning. And remember to exhale.
The other thing that I try to remember is that if what we are moving through is really and truly “transformation,” not just some superficial rearrangement of the furniture, then it is going to be very hard to imagine not just what “the other side” will look like, but how I will feel inside of that new reality. I find that I can be prone to feelings of “fluttery-ness” these days, and if I don’t take care to listen more closely, I might assume that I am feeling nervous/anxious about the current state of the world. Of course sometimes I am (for example, when I wake to several days here in Western Massachusetts feeling as if I am in the Caribbean, weather-wise). Other times, when I slow down enough to actually interrogate the fluttery sensation, I realize that it can also be akin to the excitement I have felt when getting to the top of a tall rollercoaster and anticipating that moment of release. And I wonder…is that what the butterfly feels when it emerges from the cocoon, and when it takes its first flight? Just how does it go about adjusting to its new embodied reality?
Several years ago, I read the book The Net and the Butterfly, which is full of examples and suggestions of methods for opening ourselves to “the new.” A core point of the authors, Olivia Fox Cabane and Judah Pollack, is that in order to access new ways of being and doing, we do not have to be artistic geniuses or spiritual adepts. What we do need are ways to make the time and space to peacefully pay attention and notice differently, allowing insight and novelty to emerge on their own.
The common theme underlying the practices that the authors explore is supporting so-called neuroplasticity, our brains’ remarkable ability to rearrange neural pathways for new possibilities. Neuroplasticity happens on its own, to a certain extent, but is reduced by practiced habits and routines – i.e. staying stuck in ruts. This happens as we age and get too comfortable with or protective of the familiar. So in order to encourage an openness to new pathways, what can we do?
Stop trying to figure it out. Simply grinding on a situation or challenge or sitting in fear and frustration can prevent “solutions” from showing up. Give your mind a rest – take a shower/bath, take a walk, relax and breathe, or engage in relatively mindless activity (wash dishes, bounce a ball).
Try on new perspectives.Looking at the world differently can help us to see possibilities we had not observed from our usual vantage points. Read literature from different and unfamiliar disciplines. Talk to someone who sees the world differently (culturally, politically, professionally). Study a different language. Take a different route to work or for your daily walk. Lie down on the ground and look up and around, or climb a tree to literally get a different perspective on things.
Open up to different sounds, tastes and sensations. Intentionally seeking out and paying attention to unusual sensations can also strengthen our flexibility, adaptability, and openness to novelty. Research shows, for example, that by using our non-dominant hand to perform daily routines (brushing teeth, brushing hair, drinking from a cup) we can strengthen neuroplasticity. The key is to really pay attention to what we notice.
Learn from the intelligence and wonder of our more than human kin. Much more is being written about biomimicry and the wisdom of following the larger living world’s innate capacities for resilience and regeneration. And the power of awe is in some ways hard to beat in terms of its ability to crack us open. Check out this website for inspired ideas from our broader family or look at the writings of Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer, Tristan Gooley and others that can help us read the patterns of living systems.
Be as full bodied as you can be, remembering we are bigger than our bodies give us credit for.As Richard Rohr writes, “To finally surrender ourselves to [transformation], we need to have three spaces opened within us – and all at the same time: our opinionated head, our closed-down heart, and our defensive and defended body. That is the work of spirituality.”
Lastly, I want to return to what I started with in Part 1 – listen/feel music.A philosopher once said, “The world without music would be wrong,” (or something close to that). I certainly find that the right song at the right time can create a kind of full-bodied resonance that is incredibly “regenerative” of my entire being and brings the world alive around me. I offer one more favorite here through an excerpt and invitation to watch the full video below:
I don’t wanna be someone who walks away so easily I’m here to stay and make the difference that I can make Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use the tools and gifts We got yeah we got a lot at stake And in the end you’re still my friend at least we did intend For us to work we didn’t break, we didn’t burn We had to learn, how to bend without the world caving in I had to learn what I got, and what I’m not And who I am
I won’t give up on us Even if the skies get rough I’m giving you all my love I’m still looking up
What are you finding helps you to stay grounded and navigate these transformative times?
“Transformation is a process and, for survivors, it’s a process with ups and downs, flashbacks and panic attacks. But as [regeneration] confirms, it’s the better way.”
As I’ve been coming more and more into “the second half of life,“ I have found that I pay more attention, or perhaps I pay attention differently and to different things. One particular area I’ve noticed is song lyrics. Music that I may have previously enjoyed for the beats or melodies, I now find I am also appreciating for the timeliness and depth of the words. One example is one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite artists – “The Wood Song” by the Indigo Girls. I remember driving on a country road in my late 20s with windows rolled down and the radio cranked feeling the lift from both the rushing air and the rising chorus. In a more recent listen, these particular words grabbed me:
“Sometimes I ask to sneak a closer look Skip to the final chapter of the book And then maybe steer us clear from some of the pain it took To get us where we are this far But the question drowns in it’s futility And even I have got to laugh at me No one gets to miss the storm of what will be Just holding on for the ride”
Ah yes, how many times do I catch myself wanting to know “What comes next?” This could be for my own healing process, our family, “the work,” this country, the world as we know it. I suppose that curiosity is understandable/natural, and it can certainly be a trap when it keeps taking me out of the present moment. Also when it becomes a ploy to try and circumvent dis-comfort, noting here that the root of that word means to “not be coming with or connected to strength.” To feel uncertain and out of my zone of confidence and strong suit can of course be disorienting (anyone else out there having sensations of sloshiness?). Well, that really is the point, as the Indigo Girls sing later in that song.
“The wood is tired and the wood is old We’ll make it fine if the weather holds But if the weather holds we’ll have missed the point That’s where I need to go“
The point is to be present with whatever is, including the hardships of life and the turmoils of the soul. I don’t have to like it, and in fact many times have/will not, but should try not to immediately evade or skip over what’s hard and what hurts. To riff on a line from a country song, if you want to miss the pain then you’ll have to miss the dance.
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There is a poem I come back to every now and again, from David Wagoner, called “Lost”:
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known. The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you. If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here. No two trees are the same to Raven. No two branches are the same to Wren. If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you, You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows Where you are. You must let it find you.
You must let it find you. What is the “it”? The here and now. Not the “over there” or “next.” The present moment, as liminal and shaky as it may feel. And it certainly can feel shaky, at least in my experience and from what I am hearing and learning from others with whom I have been working.
When I do manage to settle and tune in to where and how I am, to where and how others are, and what guidance there might be from that powerful stranger, here is some of what I am hearing …
Take it easy.
Take good care.
Take care of endings.
Take care of beginnings.
Take care of one another.
Breathe … and remember to exhale …
Let things, “all the things,” bubble up; let them pass.
Lean in, engage; lean back, relax; repeat.
Stay curious.
Be humble.
Be kind.
Be.
Over and over, I am hearing and feeling these messages. And in moments of more extreme discomfort and pain, there is the reminder that “healing often hurts.” To recover you might have to do more uncovering, peel back more layers. Before you reweave you might have to unravel, maybe get rid of some of those dangling threads. To do differently or better, as my colleague Kellly Bates has beautifully written, you just might have to come undone …
Over the past few years, I have had the privilege of getting to know and work with food justice advocates in the state of Mississippi through the Mississippi Food Justice Collaborative and the Mississippi Food Policy Council. On two occasions, as a part of visits to Jackson, Mississippi, I’ve had the opportunity to go on the wonderful civil rights tour provided by Frank Figgers. Mr. Figgers is a graduate of Tougaloo College, where he worked with the Jackson Human Rights Project, founded by Howard Spencer, a SNCC field organizer and former civil rights worker. While working with the Jackson Human Rights Project, Mr. Figgers met, worked with, and developed relationships with other former civil rights workers. He is an absolutely captivating storyteller, who has filled in many gaps in my own historical knowledge, and provided numerous corrections to the education I received.
Touring Jackson, we made stops at a number of different historical landmarks, including the Smith Roberston Museum and Cultural Center (once Smith Robertson Elementary School, the first public school for African-American children in Jackson), the Farish Street Historical District (known as a hub for Black-owned businesses up until the 1970s), the Greyhound bus station at 219 North Lamar Street (where many arrests were made during the 1961 Freedom Rides), Tougaloo College (established by descendants of slaves aboard the Amistad and an institution that has at the forefront of the Civil Rights Movement in Mississippi), and Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National Historical Monument (where Medgar Evers was fatally shot in 1963). Mr. Figgers narrated key and often dramatic events while those of us in the large van he was driving listened intently and as if we were watching events play out in front of us.
Exhibits inside the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum
A common refrain that Mr. Figgers used, in pointing out how “everyday people” stepped up to fight for their and other’s rights amidst oppression and violence was – “They did what they could, with what they had, where they were.” As he said this, he scanned our faces in the back of the van, his eyes widening behind his glasses, and then smiled as a final point of exclamation. Even in the face of truly terrorizing circumstances, people stood up. They stood up. They did something. So many acts of tremendous courage, large and small. So many people, everyday people, finding ways. Making ways.
“They did what they could, with what they had, where they were.”
Something about those words continued to work through me, and so was the case for others who were on the tour, as we talked about it later. They’ve been echoing in my head more loudly recently, as I feel the strain in my body and mind related to escalating challenges and suffering around us.
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Another story recently came to mind as Mr. Figgers’ words have been working on me. Not long out of college, I created and ran a youth service program for middle and high school students in upstate New York. My first summer organizing the program was spent in the most rural and economically poorest part of the county where I was based. We had assembled a group of about ten middle schoolers who were motivated to help others or simply looking for something to do with their time in the summer months. We got involved with the local food pantry, learned a lot about hunger in the county and country, did some painting and cleaning work on a couple of historical buildings needing love and care, and made ourselves available to those in the community unable to do certain things for themselves.
About mid-way through the summer, as more people heard about our work, we received a call about an elderly woman who was legally blindand lived by herself. The town works department was coming to her house to fix some sewage pipes and in the process of digging up a portion of her back yard to do so, they were going to have to take down a few of her young fruit trees out back. Could we come and move them for her, a neighbor who was calling on her behalf wondered? The youth were very eager to assist, and on a blistering hot day we arrived with gloves on and shovels ready. Approaching the house I gasped a little – the structure looked like it was held together by little more than hope. We met the woman outside. She wore darkened glasses and was leaning on a walker. She welcomed us and promptly guided us to the trees out back. After some basic instructions, we got to work and spent a few hours digging holes, moving and watering trees, packing soil, adding some fertilizer, and then – with sweat pouring down our faces – felt satisfied that the job was complete.
The woman was delighted and, smiling behind her darkened lenses, asked if she could give us something in return. Without waiting for an answer she told us to follow her. We went inside her house and she waved us in the direction of the door behind her where we found the stairs to her cellar. We were then instructed to flick the switch at the top of stairs, descend, and “pick anything you like.” The kids and I looked at each other, a little uncertain. I went ahead and led the way. Once at the bottom of the creaky stairs, we looked around to see dust-covered shelves on all sides of a single unfinished room, completely packed with jars. Jars full of fruits, vegetables, jams, and pickled this-and-that. Hundreds of jars.We were completely floored. After taking a few minutes to absorb the incredible array, we each selected a jar that looked good to us and went back up stairs.
“You do all of that?” one of the girls asked once we were all gathered back in her kitchen.
“Yup,” said the woman, matter-of-factly.
“And you gonna eat all of that?” asked one of the boys.
The woman laughed. “Oh no,” she said. “I send most of those to the needy.”
There was silence in the kitchen as we worked that over in our minds.
She continued. “I give them to people in my church to send to people overseas who are hungry or experiencing difficulties like earthquakes.”
The kids nodded, clearly still working that through in their minds.
Well, let’s just say that gave us a lot to talk about during our van ride back to the kids’ homes. Despite all appearances, this elder, officially living at the poverty level, legally blind and physically limited, was doing what she could, with what she had, where she was.
A nice coda to the story is that the kids decided they wanted to learn how to do canning themselves and wondered if the woman would teach them. I reached out through the neighbor, the woman agreed, and we ended up donating what we produced (fruit jams) to the local food pantry where we had begun our summer of service work.
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I am not going to lie. There are days when I feel completely overwhelmed. I look at what I see as the challenges we face in this country and world and I wonder, “How on earth…? It’s too much! It’s just too much.” And then I think of Mr. Figgers and the everyday people of the historical and current day civil rights movement in Mississippi and other places. And I think of “The Canning Lady,” (as she came to be called by the kids in our service group), and so many others like her that do what they can everyday with whatever they have wherever and however they are. And that’s enough to eventually right me.
Part of this righting is remembering is that it is not just about me! It is about doing my part, making the contribution(s) that I can make. To riff on a phrase I often use in supporting the creation of social change networks, it’s also about “doing my best, and then connecting to and trusting the rest.” That’s why I am such a big fan of networks, of making more loving links between people and places. Imagine more of us doing what we can, where we are, with what we have, and weaving it all into something larger. Something even more beautiful. As a poet once said, we might just make a world like that.
