by Heather Plett | Jun 23, 2014 | Uncategorized
I’ve been trying and trying to write a decent blog post lately.
I thought I’d write about how amazing it’s been to watch my firstborn daughter blossom recently. How proud I was to watch her finish her first half marathon in under two hours. How gratifying it is to see her graduate, how hard she’s worked at her art lately and how amazing it was to watch her dance around the room when she got her acceptance letter from the school of fine arts. How proud I was to watch her do a public presentation on why feminism is still important for young women today. How courageously she forges her own path and wore a sleek black pant jumpsuit to her graduation when almost every other girl wore a brightly coloured, highly bedazzled princess dress.
I thought I’d write that, but I kept getting stuck. I don’t quite know how to tell my daughters’ stories in ways that honour their right to tell them themselves.
Before that, I thought I’d write about the amazing circles I’ve hosted and been part of recently, and how I want to do so much more of this work and help it grow all over the world. I thought I’d rave about Gather the Women and the great love I’ve found there, and how you should all consider joining me at their annual gathering in Rapid City, South Dakota in September. Or how you can get a taste of that circle love online this Friday in the Openhearted Writing Circle.
I thought I’d write that, but I just couldn’t figure out how to articulate all that I want to say about circles. Sometimes it’s hard to put it all into words without losing the heart of it.
I also thought I’d write more about how so many circle patterns are spiraling inward, getting closer and closer and starting to intertwine with each other – circle gatherings, mandalas, labyrinths, etc. How it’s starting to make sense why they’ve all found their way into my life, and how it feels like my calling is being refined as being a co-creator of Circles of Connection. How I plan to spend part of my summer painting a portable labyrinth and making some large outdoor nature-based mandalas. How I want to write a book about The Circular Woman.
I wanted to write that, but then it started to feel a little premature and I decided I needed to spend a little more time with my own thoughts before I try to express them.
And then I thought I should just do a gratitude post, where I talk about how grateful I am for my life right now. How good it’s been to feel more settled in this self-employment journey. How beautifully busy I’ve been in the past few months, hosting retreats, teaching classes, coaching, traveling, and creating Summer Lovin’, and how hopeful it makes me feel when I see so many new names showing up to buy my books, sign up for my courses, etc. How excited I am that this is finally generating enough income that we can take our children on a road trip this summer.
I wanted to write that, but I was too busy living the life and being grateful in the moments of it to try to refine it into a blog post.
I also thought I’d write something about teaching from the heart. How it’s been a bit of a journey to find my teaching voice, feeling the pressure of needing to be more academic and yet knowing that what the students need comes not only from my head but from my heart. How gratifying it feels to hear from students that the meaning they get from my classes goes far beyond the course content. How I still struggle sometimes to find the right balance and trust myself in forging a different path than what might be expected.
I considered writing that, but it’s hard to write some of those stories without betraying confidences and sharing things that are not mine to share.
I even thought I’d write a post about the table I’m refurbishing. How I picked up a solid table and chairs from a neighbour on Giveaway Day, and how I’m now covering up the scratches on the top with a bunch of black and white photos I found in an old photography book. How delighted I am with the way it’s turning out, and how this upcycling process offers one such lovely time for contemplating the way we transform life’s messes into beauty.
I tried to write that, but I couldn’t find the right balance between design tips and metaphor for life.
Yes, I’ve tried to write many blog posts, but the truth is, what I need right not is not a blog post.
What I need right now is some stillness.
There is so much swirling around in my head and heart that I can’t seem to focus on one thing long enough to write about it.
There is so much to be grateful for and so much to celebrate, but I know myself well and I know this… to integrate all of this growth and change and learning and goodness into my life, I need to be still with it for awhile. I need to let it whisper meaning into my heart. I need to sink into it like a bathtub full of hot water and let it wash over me and change me.
It’s summer, and it’s the perfect time to take a little break from the teaching, writing, thinking and processing. It’s the perfect time to go for long walks, sit on the beach, play on the swings, and hang out with loved ones around the campfire.
It’s the perfect time for a little stillness, gratitude and mindfulness. And that’s what I’ll be seeking in the next few weeks.
by Heather Plett | Jun 16, 2014 | Uncategorized
I’ve created something to help you “walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet” this summer. It’s called Summer Lovin’: a mindfulness journal.
These things I know:
- Mindfulness improves the quality of your life.
- It’s easier to be mindful if you keep a journal.
I’ve been keeping a journal since I was twelve years old. I haven’t kept it consistently, but when I look back at the trajectory of my life, I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that in those times when I was keeping a journal, I was:
- more mindful,
- more grateful,
- more prepared for hardship,
- more centred and grounded,
- more present in my relationships, and
- more cognizant of how the world impacted me.
Here’s another couple of things I know:
- Writing regularly improves your creativity and problem-solving ability.
- According to Malcolm Gladwell, you have to put in 10,000 hours to become an expert at anything. This includes writing.
Even if writing is not your artistry of choice, journal-writing can enhance your creativity, especially if that writing is helping you to be more mindful of the world around you. If writing IS your artistry of choice (or you have to blog regularly to support your work), then writing in a journal is a vital way to put in those 10,000 hours.
Summer Lovin’ is a simple journal which will help you be more mindful of your world and your inner landscape throughout the summer. It will also help you stretch your creative writing muscles.
There are 60 simple journal prompts in Summer Lovin’. Each day, you’ll be encouraged to notice something – whether it’s the colour red, the sky, or something mysterious in the world around you – and then write about it. Some prompts are fanciful, some are simply about noticing details, some invite you to reach back into your past, some are about relationships, and some help you explore the world of your imagination.
In creating Summer Lovin’ I’ve drawn on many years of teaching writing and creativity workshops, coaching writers, and doing my own mindfulness journal writing. Some of these prompts have been used in my workshops, and many of them are new. Many of them were written while I sat on the grass under a big tree near the river – one of my favourite places to write and be mindful.
Click on the image to see a sample page.
For only $10, you’ll receive 60 prompts to help be more mindful this summer.
OR you can do it in community, or with your family, or with your writing group or book club. The prompts are easy enough for a 10 year old to do. Why not sign your whole family up and make a commitment to mindfulness for the summer? Each morning, read the prompt for that day at breakfast, invite your family members to be mindful of what that day is inviting, find some time to write about it, and then discuss it over supper in the evening.
For only $20, you can download multiple copies for your family or small group to do it together. (If you wish to download or print more than 12 copies, please contact me.)
Are you ready for a more mindful summer?
Once you make the purchase, you’ll be sent to a private page where you can download the journal in one of two formats:
- As a 33 page pdf that includes space for your writing.
- As a 13 page pdf that includes only the prompts (and you can write in your own journal).
Questions? Feel free to contact me.
Have a happy, mindful summer!
by Heather Plett | Jun 3, 2014 | Uncategorized
This morning I was flipping through a couple of old journals, looking for something I’d written. Around ten years ago, after reading a book called The Path, I’d written a personal mission statement about the work I wanted to do in the future. I’d also written a vision of what a day in my life might be like five years in the future.
Although I hadn’t read that journal entry for quite some time, I knew that my life had come very close to what I had hoped it would become. In that entry, I’d talked about facilitating leadership retreats and having my first book published. I also mentioned my hopes of having a regular column published. (I didn’t know about blogs at the time, so I was thinking purely traditional publishing – but this is just fine too.)
This is the mission statement I wrote: “It is my mission to inspire excellence in people, to facilitate personal growth and the discovery of gifts, and to serve as a catalyst for positive change.” Sounds like what I do now, right?
At the time, though, my paid work was quite far out of alignment with that mission statement. I was in a job that made me miserable and that had very little to do with my giftedness. I was the primary communicator for a high security federal laboratory, dealing with the media on the latest health scare – SARS, West Nile, Mad Cow Disease, etc., and working as part of a management team that was full of toxic energy.
What I didn’t realize until I looked back into my journal, was that I managed to write that mission statement and vision for my life at the darkest time of my life. It’s painful to read the journal entries from that year. At the beginning of the year, I ended my maternity leave for my third daughter and returned to my miserable job, worried that this might be all there would be to my life. As soon as I got back to work, SARS hit in Toronto, which meant that I was suddenly on call to media from all over the world twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. (I remember the phone ringing in my pocket in church on Easter morning.) Exhausted from motherhood and emotionally and spiritually shut down from a job that killed my spirit and drained every bit of my energy, all I could do in my journal was weep and moan.
Then it got worse. In August of that year, my dad was killed in a tragic farm accident. It suddenly felt like the ground had been ripped out from under my feet and I was in free-fall. The first journal entry after dad died is short and in tiny handwriting – like I’d shrunken and no longer knew how to speak.
It kept getting worse. Two weeks after dad died, my uncle died very suddenly while on a camping trip. Two months later, my grandma died. In the middle of all of that grief, Mom wanted to move off the farm, so we had to sort through all of their lifetime’s worth of belongings, hold an auction sale, sell the farm, and move Mom into an apartment. Mom was an emotional mess, so on top of trying to be a half-decent parent to my small kids, and trying to hold together a demanding job, I was trying (with my siblings) to be her emotional support.
Somewhere in the middle of all of that, I started to dream of something different. I think I was desperate for some pinpoint of light in the middle of all that darkness. My mission statement and journal entry were written not long after grandma died, when the bad had gotten worse, and when I was afraid to answer the phone because every phone call seemed to report another death.
I’m not sharing this story to depress you, but to give you some measure of hope. If you’re in the middle of the darkness, keep looking for those points of light. Keep dreaming that some day, it might get better. Keep daring to believe in hope.
Thankfully, the next year things started to shift. I left the government for a non-profit job that excited me, and nobody close to me died for several years.
It’s not a straight path to “better”. It’s a bumpy, curvy one, and having gone through another really bad year last year (when mom died, Marcel had a heart attack, and I broke my foot), I have to be honest and say that this will not be your only bad year.
But it does get better, again and again. This Spring has been full of hope and light for me again. I’m doing work I absolutely love. Just over a week ago, I hosted a women’s retreat and this coming weekend, I’ll be guest speaker at another retreat. In between, I’ve been teaching classes, coaching clients, and hosting conversations with deep meaning and purpose. My daughters are happy and healthy and growing into beautiful young women. My marriage is in a more solid place than it’s been in the past. I am content. Life is good.
Life hasn’t turned out exactly as I’d hoped (too many people have died), but I am doing the work that I dared to hold out a vision for, and I have found happiness slowly beginning to grow out of grief, again and again.
And… what I know for certain is that I couldn’t be doing this work as effectively as I do if I didn’t know what darkness feels like.
And that, my friends, is what I hope for you. Look for light, and let the darkness change you. If you feel like giving up hope, if you’ve waited far too long for the lights to come back on, I want to encourage you to hang on just a little longer. You will grow stronger from your time of darkness and the strength will prepare you for the light.
Sit down and write your mission statement and your vision for a day five years from now. It might take ten years to get there (as mine did), but with intention and a stubborn commitment to hope, things will shift and you will head toward that which calls you.
Don’t give up. Carry on. Be faithful to your vision and your hope. It does get better.
***
If you want to write your way through the darkness or through the light, consider joining the next Openhearted Writing Circle on June 27.
If you’re looking for a companion on the bumpy, curvy path, check out Pathfinder.
by Heather Plett | May 28, 2014 | Uncategorized
In my Writing for PR class, I teach students that they should always focus on the benefits to the reader/client. “What’s in it for them?” is a common question in the class. And yet… I don’t often follow my own advice. Why? Mmmm… I’m not sure. I’m stubborn, perhaps? I prefer writing stories to writing lists? I like breaking rules?
Whatever the case, I thought it might be fun to give you ten benefits you might receive if you sign up for the next Mandala Discovery class, which starts June 1.
- Mandala-making helps you deal with stress. It’s a calming, meditative process that helps to silence the gremlins in your mind.
- It’s a good excuse to buy yourself a new set of Sharpies.
- Because of its use of both colour and words, lines and blank space, order and chaos, this unique mandala journaling process helps you access both your right brain and left brain.
- Everybody needs some play time. Why should your kids have all the fun?
- The prompts that come with each mandala process have lots of great content and wisdom in them. It’s much more than just instructions on how to make a mandala – it’s a daily guide for how to process your own life.
- You can do it with a friend, your grade 4 students, or even your grandmother. Others have.
- It’s been known to help people through both grief and recovery programs.
- You’ll learn new things about yourself. Even the resistance (when you just don’t want to follow the instructions) can become your teacher.
- The process has been known to help past participants find greater direction and deeper spirituality in their lives.
- You get to be messy and it doesn’t matter, because IT’S ABOUT THE PROCESS NOT THE PRODUCT!
But you don’t have to take my word for it. Here’s what one participant said: “30 Days of Mandala Journaling was such an uplifting and spiritual experience for me. Creating mandalas to the prompts Heather provided each day opened up my mind to see what sometimes was hiding deep within and other times right on the surface just waiting to be noticed. And it was FUN drawing and coloring! I look at my mandala journal often.” There are lots more testimonials on the sales page.
Are you ready to join us? You have until Saturday, May 31st to register.
by Heather Plett | May 26, 2014 | Uncategorized
These are my three daughters, Nicole, Madeline, and Julie. I don’t talk about them very often on my blog, because I want to respect their rights to be the owners of their own stories, and because I don’t have any aspirations to be a mommy blogger.
But today I want to tell you a little about them because they inspire me and give me reason to do the work I do. I want to make the world a better place not only for the women of my generation that I work with, but for the women who come after us, who will step into their own leadership roles, serving the world as they feel called.
My daughters are far from perfect. They fight – with each other and with their dad and me. They have insecurities and make bad choices sometimes. Like all teenagers, they’re finding their own paths in the world and so they have to make their own mistakes and stumble over their own weaknesses.
This morning, though, I want to focus on their strengths.
My oldest daughter, Nicole (on the left), has spent hours and hours working on a big history project that she’s presenting in class this morning. She chose to make her hour-long presentation on the history of feminism, and in the process has dug up all kinds of interesting stories of trailblazers and truth-tellers in the feminist movement. Every day she shares new tidbits that she has learned and I’ve been learning a lot vicariously through her. (Sadly, I can’t read the whole presentation as it’s in French.) Most of the girls in her class are hesitant to call themselves feminists (and she anticipated that some might even put up resistance to what she’ll be presenting), but she doesn’t care. She’s passionate about history and human rights and she’s choosing her own path.
My second daughter, Julie (on the right), left this morning on a three day back-country canoe trip. She’s an adventurer and a leader, and though she hasn’t done much canoeing, I know that she’ll take to it naturally and I’m almost certain that she’ll step into her natural leadership ability at the campsite and will be teaching less-experienced people how to set up tents and how not to freak out when wood ticks show up. If they run into challenges on the journey, her friends will (as they always do) look to her for direction on how to stay calm and resolve the problems. She will step up to the challenge.
My third daughter, Madeline (in the middle) had her year-end synchronized swimming show yesterday. She is passionate about being in the water and she loves the challenge of being able to hold challenging poses while staying afloat. She is not a slender child (like many of the girls in the pool), but that doesn’t seem to bother her at all. She would live in a bathing suit if she could and I’ve never once heard her complain about the way her body looks in a bathing suit. None of her friends or sisters like synchronized swimming, but that never affects her love of it. She’s found her own path and she’s following it.
Though they face the normal angst and self-doubt of teenage girls, they all seem to have a strong sense of who they are. My husband and I have tried hard to let them know that whoever they are is fine with us – we’ll love them unconditionally.
As I watch my daughters blossom into amazing young women, I can’t help but wonder…
What if they learn to trust in their own power and never develop a fear of it?
I know that’s an idealistic question, and I have already seen evidence of them shrinking from their own power, when they’re afraid to do things wrong, when they’ve been made fun of by friends, when they pay too much attention to how the media tells them they “should” look or act, or when they haven’t received the right support from me or other family members. But I can still be hopeful that they won’t learn as many self-destructive habits as so many of the women I work with in my own generation have developed.
We have learned to be afraid of our own power.
I see it again and again. Women (myself included) have picked up a lot of messages (both external and internal) that tell them they shouldn’t be too confident, too powerful, too mystical, too shiny, too large, too expressive, too bossy, too strong, too creative, too dark, too wild, etc., etc. Just this past week I had a coaching conversation with a woman who’d seen evidence of her own power and was struggling with what to do with it. So many old stories are getting in the way of her embracing the power she knows she has. And she’s not alone. I have conversations like this nearly every week.
Why? Because women’s power is a dangerous thing. Women’s power is mystical and unpredictable. Women’s power is fierce and it upsets the natural order of things. Women’s power is wild and full of passionate love and it defies logic and order. Too many women stepping into their own power would cause the world to shift and women themselves are afraid of holding that responsibility. Those who currently hold power are afraid of it too.
The patriarchy has worked long and hard to control and contain women’s power. They have kept women silent by using religion, rules, force, and fear tactics. They have tethered women’s strength by convincing us that “logos” has more value than “mythos”, force has more value than love, science has more value than art, hierarchy has more value than collaboration, analysis has more value than spirituality, structure has more value than wildness, and consumption has more value than ecology.
We see evidence of the patriarchy’s fear of women’s power every time we turn on the evening news. When men shoot a young woman, or kidnap hundreds of other young girls, just because they dared to go to school, it’s evident that they know that educated women are dangerous women who might challenge the power of the patriarchy. When Hollywood makes it difficult for women to get acting roles that show them as intelligent and independent of men, it’s evident that they’re afraid if women are allowed to say what they really want to say, the world might have to change. When churches don’t allow women to step into pulpits or make their own choices, it’s clear they’re afraid that women’s stories might shift the shape of religion.
It’s often said that “women are their own worst enemies” and that is true and untrue all at the same time. It’s true in the sense that a lot of our battles are internal and it’s often the stories that a woman carries that convince her that she is not worthy. But it’s not true in the sense that she is solely responsible for the existence of those stories. Those stories were planted there over generations of women being repressed and silenced. Something that has been collected over generations and centuries cannot easily be outdone, and so women need to stop beating themselves up over not being able to let them go easily.
I know, for example, that these generations of stories have been implanted into my daughters’ hearts, even though I’ve done my best to keep them from taking root. They can’t help but be impacted by what they see all around them in the media, in the education system, and even in their home. They still will have their own work to do to really learn to trust their own power and to be courageous in the face of apathy and resistance.
My own journey to power has been a long one (and it will continue for years to come).
Nearly fourteen years ago, I landed on my back in a hospital bed in the middle of my third pregnancy. Due to a complication and a botched surgery attempt, my pregnancy was suddenly in jeopardy and I had to put everything in my life on hold to try to save my unborn child.
During the three weeks leading up to my son Matthew’s death and birth, I had a lot of time for silence, contemplation, conversations, and personal reflection. Those three weeks became a time of spiritual awakening and an awakening to my own power and calling. It shifted everything in my life.
For one thing, I had a rather frightening and awe-inspiring spiritual experience in which I became aware of a spiritual force that was directing me toward bigger, bolder work in my life. For another thing, people in the hospital started being inexplicably drawn to my room (doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors), and would sit and share their stories with me and look to me for guidance and/or spiritual direction (very much the kind of conversations I now have in my coaching work). It was surprising and a little overwhelming.
After Matthew died, it took me a long time (years) to process what had happened in the hospital. I was afraid of it. I knew that I was being asked to step into bigger, more powerful work as a teacher, spiritual guide, and leader, but that terrified me. What if I screwed up? What if I disappointed people? What if I was delusional? What if I was “too big for my britches”? What if I fell on my face?
I was unworthy. I wasn’t smart enough. I didn’t have the right education. I didn’t know how to talk about the thing that happened to me in a way that wouldn’t scare people or make them laugh.
It took nearly ten years before I was ready to begin to accept this invitation into my own power. I say “my own power”, but really I need to say that it is “a power that is gifted to me from the Divine”. Even after ten years, I felt scared and unworthy. I was afraid of what people would think, I didn’t know how I’d make any money, and I was pretty sure I’d fail and make a fool of myself.
Each time I had to cancel a class or workshop because not enough people would show up, I’d have to fight the voices that were saying “You’re just not good enough. Give up and get a real job.” Each time I’d face resistance or criticism, I’d shrink a little and step back into self-protection mode, afraid to speak of what I really felt called to speak of.
Last week, two things happened that reminded me that I’m on the right path and that I am gradually learning to accept the power available to me.
Firstly, on my birthday I invited my readers and social media contacts to support my fundraiser to educate more girls through the Uganda Kitgum Education Foundation. In just four days, we raised $2269! Wow! I was blown away that the work I’ve done in building relationships and sharing stories with people had built a community of people who were so willing to step up and support a good cause. That’s powerful! Now the wheels in my head are turning… if we can raise that much in four days with just a simple invitation and the help of friends, how much more can we raise if we organize a bigger fundraising campaign?
Secondly, over the weekend, I hosted a women’s retreat together with my friend Jo-Anne (who’s passionate about food and ecology) and the sixteen women who showed up dared to be vulnerable and authentic. The stories they shared in the closing circle (and the emails I’ve gotten since) showed how they had been transformed by what had been awakened for them in just a short time through meaningful conversations with other women, personal reflection and creativity. As I always am at these gatherings I host, I was blown away at how powerful it is to simply create intentional space for exploration, contemplation, conversation, and meaning-making. I always feel like I do so little, and yet I am reminded again and again how powerful the right kind of hosting can be.
I share these stories not out of arrogance, but out of humility. I am humbled that I have been chosen to do this work. I am humbled that God has gifted me with the power to impact change. I am humbled that people show up and engage with what I offer.
When we stop being afraid of our own power, amazing things can happen.
If you’re still carrying around stories that are keeping you from being powerful, it’s time to do the work of excavating those stories so that you can turn them into something of value and you can access what is being gifted to you.
Imagine you’re carrying around a backpack of old stories that feel heavy on your shoulders and keep you from dancing down the path. Imagine that each of those stories is a large, rough stone, and buried under the roughness is a beautiful diamond just waiting for you to chip away the ugliness to unearth the beauty. Imagine that, with the right work, you could find the diamonds and wear them proudly on a string around your neck instead of carrying them like a burden on your back.
If you’re ready to do this work, you might want to start with a journey through Pathfinder or Mandala Discovery. If you need a guide while you do the work, I will have some coaching spaces available over the summer and would be happy to work with you.
You are powerful. You are beautiful. You are worthy.
I invite you to step into the courage it takes to discover the power available to you.
by Heather Plett | May 14, 2014 | Uncategorized
As I mentioned in this post, two weeks ago, I was on Whidbey Island, gathered with 25 other people to work on the building of The Circle Way Initiative, an extension of the circle work of PeerSpirit. I’ve wanted to write a follow-up post ever since, but sometimes the experience of something feels too important to try to put it into words right way. Sometimes it simply needs to sit for awhile in the heart space before it can enter the head space where language resides.
As I mentioned in the earlier post, I fell in love with the idea of The Circle Way when I first encountered the work of Christina Baldwin and Ann Linnea thirteen years ago. It took awhile before I had fully embraced it and could use it confidently in my work, but now it is central to everything I do. I use it in the classroom, in retreats, in group consultations, and even in online spaces.
The Circle Way is both simple and complex. In fact, I would say it is the “simplicity on the other side of complexity” that Oliver Wendell Holmes is talking about in this quote… “For the simplicity on this side of complexity, I wouldn’t give you a fig. But for the simplicity on the other side of complexity, for that I would give you anything I have.”
The Circle Way helps us cut through complexity to the simplicity on the other side.
By gathering people into a circle where we can all look into each other’s eyes, using some simple structure, principles and practices to help hold the conversation, and being intentional about the way we engage with each other, we can dramatically shift our conversations. I’ve seen it happen again and again. People engage more intentionally than they normally do, conflict is resolved in constructive ways, and there is honesty and authenticity in the way we show up for each other.
If you’d like to learn more about how to host your own circle, you can download PeerSpirit’s Basic Guidelines here, or you can buy the book.
Here are some of the things I love about The Circle Way:
1. It gives each person a voice. Circle council always begins with a check-in and ends with a check-out, where a talking piece is passed around and each person has an opportunity to speak. Whoever is holding the talking piece is the only person who can speak, giving respect and reverence to whatever each person chooses to speak of.
2. It cuts out distraction and holds focus. I’ve sat in many meetings and classrooms where only half of the people in the room are engaged and the other half are in side conversations or checking their smartphones. That rarely happens in a circle, and if it does, it will be called out by the others in the circle and rarely needs to be addressed by the host. People are much more attentive when they know they are being witnessed and when they are invited to witness each other.
3. It calls out the best in each of us. In circle council, we talk about each person in the circle “holding the rim” for each other. That means that the circle is not complete without each person taking his/her seat and committing to being part of that circle. Together we hold the container, giving each other space for growth, grief, courage, and fear. If people in the circle take that seriously (and they usually do, because it feels like an honour to be invited into this sacred space), remarkable things can happen and people can step into their own greatness. In our gathering on Whidbey Island, for example, each person stepped forward, offered their gifts, and took on the work of making The Circle Way Initiative a reality. When you’re invited into a space where there’s a leader in every chair, you’re much more inclined to contribute what you have to offer.
4. It allows us to be more intentional and listen more deeply to what is being said. By using things like a talking piece and a bell, the conversation is slowed down, there is less interruption, and there is intentionality in how we listen to each other. The talking piece is used to give each person our undivided attention. The bell is used to create pauses in the conversation when something particularly profound is said, or there is conflict or a need for a shift in energy. In addition, the circle creates a space where we are all looking into each other’s eyes instead of turning our backs to each other.
5. It invites people to step out of judgement and into grace. When you are invited to listen to people’s stories with openness and intention, not interrupting or giving advice, you learn to practice grace and non-judgement. Each person has value and nobody’s contribution is worth more than another’s. I have seen people enter the circle with resistance and judgement toward others in the circle, and before long things shifted and they were listening to each other in a more intentional way.
6. You can get lots of work done without feeling overly constricted by too much process. In some facilitation processes, there is so much complexity or restriction in the way the process unfolds that there is less room for creativity and spontaneity. The circle creates a more intuitive space, with just enough gently applied structure to keep things from going off the rails. At our gathering, we were all divided into work groups, and each group used the circle principles to guide their conversations. A great deal of work was accomplished and a lot of creativity showed up. There was just enough structure to hold it and not too much to limit it.
7. Conflict can be held in the container without destroying the circle. At the centre of the circle, there is always something in place which acts as the hub of the circle – a candle, flowers, a bowl, or something that represents the intention of the circle. When we gather in circle, we speak to the centre, rather than to individuals at the rim of the circle. This helps to hold the conflict in a safe way. Rather than directing our anger or frustration at a particular person, we offer it into the centre and the circle helps to hold and dissipate it. I have seen conflict almost miraculously evaporate when everyone in the circle feels heard and witnessed, and there is not the intensity of a one-on-one attack.
8. There is space for intimacy and community. I have been to a lot of conferences, retreats, and other gatherings, and without fail, the ones that are held in circle always result in the most intimate conversations and new friendships. Something special happens when you gather in circle, look into each other’s eyes, listen with intention, and hold space for each other. It spills out into the coffee breaks and lunch hours, and you take it home with you after the gathering has ended.
If you’d like to be in circle with me, there are a few upcoming opportunities:
1. Create & Connect: A day retreat for women
2. Circles of Connection – Wasaga Women’s Weekend (where I’ve been invited to be the guest speaker)
3. Gather the Women – Annual Gathering (where I’ll be an active participant)
