by Heather Plett | May 15, 2015 | circle, Community
All week, I’ve been trying to write a piece about The Circle Way, but nearly every effort ends on the virtual cutting room floor.
How do you write about something that has radically altered the course of your life, that has changed nearly every relationship in your life, and that has brought you into the most authentic conversations you’ve ever experienced? How do you do justice to the kind of wisdom that is as ancient as humankind and still as fresh as the lilac buds bursting open in the Spring sun?
Next week I will have the privilege of being in circle with my friends and mentors, Christina Baldwin and Ann Linnea. The anticipation of that has me reflecting on the significance of circle in my life and I want to share some of those thoughts with you. I will try, despite my inability to write it as eloquently as I’d like…
Nearly fifteen years ago, I discovered Christina’s work and knew instantly that it would change my life. I was in a particularly hungry place in my life at the time, working in a toxic bureaucratic environment that was making me realize just how much I craved real connection in my work and life. I’d sat in too many leadership meetings where every word spoken came from a guarded place and I longed for authenticity. I devoured Calling the Circle: The First and Future Culture, and, though I didn’t entirely understand the circle or see clearly how I could adopt it into my life yet, I knew this was something I wanted with every fibre of my being.
I knew that the circle was the doorway into the authentic way I longed to live my life.
Sitting in my government office one day after reading her book, I promised myself that I would study with Christina some day. Ten years later, that intention was realized and I sat in circle with her, devouring everything she had to teach me. Now, five years later, circle has become embedded into all of my work and I have become part of the global network of circle hosts and teachers who will continue to spread circle practice as Christina and Ann transition into their roles as elders of the lineage. Be careful what you wish for!
In case you are curious about circle but (like me fifteen years ago) don’t fully understand how it can change things, here are two recent ways that I’ve used circle practice…
1. Circle in the classroom
When my students were in conflict about a group project a few weeks ago, I invited them to push the tables against the wall and move their chairs into circle. With a few simple guidelines, I taught them how to have conversation in circle, looking into each other’s eyes, remaining silent when someone else was holding the talking piece, and being as honest as they were comfortable being when it was their turn to talk. People opened up in ways they don’t normally in the classroom, we addressed the source of the conflict, and we were able to move in a new direction. The students were surprised the following week when, after a second circle session, I let them abandon the group project entirely, but I told them to see it as a learning opportunity rather than a failure. In the final round with the talking piece, we each shared something we’d learned from the process. Everyone walked away looking a little lighter than when we’d started because they’d been heard by each other and by me.
2. Weekly women’s circle
Ever since I joined Gather the Women four years ago, I’ve wanted to start a women’s circle, but until recently, the timing wasn’t quite right. Finally in January, I knew it was time. I sent out an invitation and around 15 women accepted the invitation. Since then, we have been meeting on a weekly basis and, though it’s not the same women each time (everyone is welcome), we always have deep and authentic conversations. The circle offers us something we are all hungry for – a place to share our personal stories, to peel away our masks, to be honest about our shame and fear, and to heal. With the help of a talking piece, we are each given the opportunity to share stories without interruption or advice. We come to the circle not to fix each other but to listen and be listened to.
Each circle has different energy and holds a different purpose, but there are some things that every circle I host or participate in have in common. Here are just a few of them:
1. Being intentional about the space changes the way the conversation unfolds. Have you ever sat in an office talking to a senior manager who stayed behind their desk the whole time? Consider how you felt during that interaction. Though it may have been subtle, the desk separated you, gave the other person the position of power, and probably kept you from being authentic or vulnerable. In the circle, we sit and look into each other’s eyes without barriers between us and without anyone sitting in a position of power and it changes the way we interact with and are present for each other.
2. Simple rituals (sitting in circle, placing something meaningful in the centre, using a talking piece, etc.) shift us out of our everyday, often mindless conversations into something that is more mindful and deep. I’ve seen this happen especially in university classrooms where I invite students away from the tables placed in rows (where some have their backs to others) and into a circle where they face each other. Instantly they are more present, less easily distracted, and more willing to open up to each other.
3. The talking piece invites us to listen more than we speak. When you are holding the talking piece, your story holds the place of honour. When someone else holds it, their story is the honoured one. This gives you both an opportunity to speak intentionally without interruption or advice and to listen with attention without needing to interject your own story or solutions into someone else’s story. In far too many of our conversations, we feel the need to fix people, critique them, or give them good advice, which often makes that person feel like they’re flawed or not as smart as you. In truth, the gift of being listened to is often more healing than any advice you could give.
4. The circle offers us an opportunity to share the burden of the stories we carry. During our Thursday evening women’s circle, a lot of intense, personal stories come up – stories of depression, abuse, grief, etc.. These are the kinds of stories that feel really heavy to hold if you’re trying to carry them alone, or if it’s just one friend is helping to hold them for another. When they’re shared into the container of the circle, however, nobody leaves the room carrying the story alone and nobody feels solely responsible for helping another carry them. In the process of sharing them, we begin to heal each other. As one of the women shared in the circle, we do not only have “a leader in every chair”, we have “a healer in every chair”.
5. People need to come to the circle when they’re ready for it. The intensity of the circle is too much for some people and they need to walk away. That’s okay. We have to trust them to know when they’re ready to be held in that way. When they walk away, I simply wish them a blessing and hope some day when they’re ready for it, they’ll find the right circle. I would rather wait for them to be ready then to try to impose something on them that feels unsafe at the time.
6. Circle is not always be easy. I have been in many incredible circles and they are always meaningful experiences, but sometimes they’re hard. Sometimes things come to the surface that people have kept hidden for a long time and that surfacing can be painful for the person sharing and/or wounding for the people listening. The circle can hold all of that, but only if it’s guarded well and only if the people involved take responsibility for “holding the rim” and staying with the process until something new begins to grow into the cracks that have formed.
There is much more to be said about circle than this post can hold. And there are also things that cannot be articulated and can only be experienced. I encourage you to find a way to experience it. In the future, I will be offering circle workshops, but in the meantime, I encourage you read The Circle Way and to check out what my mentors at PeerSpirit have to offer. If you are a woman, I also encourage you to consider joining Gather the Women and perhaps finding or starting a circle where you live. If you are in Winnipeg, you’re welcome to join our Thursday evening circle.
If you have questions you’d like me to address in future articles, either about The Circle Way or about other topics I write about, please feel free to ask (by comment or email). Even if I don’t get back to you right away, please know that I appreciate every piece of correspondence I receive. Once a month, I plan to write an article specifically addressing a question I receive.
Interested in more articles like this? Add your name to my email list and you’ll receive a free ebook, A Path to Connection. I send out weekly newsletters and updates on my work.
by Heather Plett | Apr 22, 2015 | Compassion, growth, journey
“In a futile attempt to erase our past, we deprive the community of our healing gift. If we conceal our wounds out of fear and shame, our inner darkness can neither be illuminated nor become a light for others.” – Brennan Manning
On Sunday I sat in a circle of wounded healers. These were the openhearted people who had gathered for our second
Race to Peace conversation.
It started with Rosanna Deerchild, the first to offer healing out of her own wounds. In the Maclean’s article that named our city the most racist in Canada, Rosanna shared how she has faced racism on a weekly basis. “Someone honks at me, or yells out ‘How much’ from a car window, or calls me a stupid squaw, or tells me to go back to the rez. Every time, it still feels like getting punched in the face.”
When Rosanna’s face appeared, without her blessing, on the front cover of Maclean’s, and she was suddenly thrust into the spotlight as the “face of racism”, she made a courageous choice. Instead of responding with outrage, she decided to reach out with healing. She offered to host dinner and a conversation with people in the city about race relations, and out of that willingness, Race to Peace was born.
Rosanna’s choice inspired others to make similar choices. In the circle that gathered on Sunday, there were many who had been wounded and are now willing to extend healing.
There was the man who’d gotten a girl pregnant at 13, joined a gang, landed in jail, and was now studying to be a social worker so that he could help other young men stay out of gangs and jail and make a positive impact on the world.
There was the woman who’d immigrated from the Philippines and had experienced racism in trying to find a job in Canada and wanted to support other job-seekers with similar stories.
There was the man who’d experienced conflict in El Salvador who is now passionate about peace in his adopted country.
There was my husband, who dropped out of school in junior high because of his own anxiety and insecurity, found the courage to go to university as a 40 year old father, and now teaches in a jail.
And there was me… once raped by an indigenous man and determined not to let that make me bitter toward people of his race or gender.
The term “wounded healer” comes out of the work of psychologist Carl Jung, who believed that analysts are compelled to treat patients because the analysts themselves are wounded. My friend Jo, who is also a psychologist, says that most of the people she studied with ended up in psychology for that very reason. According to some research by Alison Barr, “73.9% of counselors and psychotherapists have experienced one or more wounding experiences leading to their career choice.”
This is not unique to psychologists. Caregivers of all kinds (nurses, hospice workers, coaches, social workers, grief counselors, etc.) are often in the line of work they’re in because they first experienced their own wounds. (Of note: Henri Nouwen has written a book related to the topic, called Wounded Healer.)
“As soon as healing takes place, go out and heal somebody else.” – Maya Angelou
We are always given a choice what to do with our wounds. We can use them as an excuse to go out and wound other people (which is at the root of most of the pain in the world), or we can do the hard work of healing and then use that healing as a gift to help in other’s healing. The wounded healer emerges in all of us who make the right choice.
I first stepped into my coaching vocation in a hospital room.
I’d landed there in the middle of my third pregnancy after my cervix had suddenly become incompetent and medical intervention had failed to correct the situation. Truth be told, I wouldn’t have been in that situation if it hadn’t been for a series of doctors’ errors.
Lying on my back in a hospital room, fearing for my son’s life, I realized I had a choice to make. I could be bitter and resentful and blame the doctors for what had happened, or I could accept the situation and forgive the doctors. I chose the second.
Once I made that choice, I was at peace. Though it was stressful not knowing what would happen to the baby and not being in control of my own life while I waited, I was surprisingly calm. Since I could do nothing else, I began to turn my hospital room into a little spiritual retreat centre, with gentle music playing, cards and pictures from my kids on the wall, and fresh fruit and flowers on the windowsill.
People began to notice how peaceful my room was, and unexpected visitors started showing up. Other patients, cleaning staff, doctors, friends, and even other people’s visitors – all of them showed up there at one time or another and all remarked at the peacefulness of the room. Some of the nurses on the floor started dropping in during their breaks because my room was more relaxing than their coffee room. A cancer patient from across the hall became a regular visitor because her visits made her feel less anxious.
While they were there, people began to share things with me – personal things that they were working through in their own lives. There was the nurse who was struggling with parenting decisions, another nurse who’d moved from Africa and was finding it difficult to adjust to a new culture, the cancer patient who was afraid to die, and a friend who was trying to make a difficult decision about whether to step into leadership.
Without intending to, I became confidante and coach to those people. Long before I knew the term “holding space” I was doing it in that hospital room for anyone who needed it. I had plenty of time on my hands and I was willing to be of service and that willingness drew people to me. It was both humbling and eye-opening.
There I was, confined to my hospital room, serving as a wounded healer to friends and strangers alike. Because of my own fear, I could hold theirs without judgement. Because I’d walked through injustice and anger and came through to forgiveness, they saw something in me that they could trust. Because I made the effort to create a peaceful space in a tumultuous situation and environment, they sought me out as friend and healer.
That experience changed my life and led me to the work that I now do. None of it could have happened, though, if I hadn’t first been wounded. If that pregnancy had been easy and had resulted in a living child (instead of my stillborn son, Matthew), I might have carried on in my relatively successful corporate job. I might never have discovered my ability to hold space for other people and might never have contributed to the healing of their wounds.
The same can be said for that long ago rape. If I hadn’t been changed by that circumstance, healed the wound the rapist left me with, and come through determined not to perpetuate a cycle of oppression and wounding, I might never have stepped forward when Rosanna spoke of her desire to hold conversations about race relations.
Each of us has a choice – stay wounded and let the wounds fester, or seek healing and offer that healing to others.
by Heather Plett | Mar 18, 2015 | art of hosting, Community, connection, grief, Martyn Joseph
Anytime we can listen to true self and give it the care it requires, we do so not only for ourselves but for the many others whose lives we touch.
– Parker Palmer, Let your Life Speak
When I shared my post about what it means to hold space for people and it went viral, I learned this…
This desire to hold space well for other people is vast and diverse.
I have heard from the most fascinating range of people about how this post is being circulated and used. It’s showing up in home schooling forums, palliative and hospice care circles, art communities, spiritual retreat centres, universities, alcoholics anonymous groups, psychotherapists’ offices, etc. The most interesting place I heard about it being shared was within the US Marines. It is also touching the lives of people supporting their parents, children, spouses and friends through difficult times.
The lesson in this is that no matter who or where you are, you can do the beautiful and important work of holding space for other people. There are so many of us who are making this a priority in our lives that I feel hopeful that this world is finally swinging like a pendulum away from a place of isolation and individualism to a place of deeper connection and love. Isn’t that a beautiful idea?
Recently, I participated in an online course on “Leading from the Future as it Emerges: From Ego-system to Eco-system” and the underlying premise of the course was that we need to find a way to make deeper connections with ourselves, others, and the earth so that we bring about a paradigm shift and stop this crash course we’re on. There were more than 25,000 from around the world participating in the course. That’s a LOT of people who share a common passion for changing the ways in which we interact and make decisions. I walked away feeling increasingly hopeful that I am part of a swelling tide of change. The response to my blog post has further reinforced that hopeful feeling.
We are doing the best we can to live in love and community.
We are not perfect, and sometimes we still make selfish decisions, but we are doing our best. Thank you for being part of the change.
The other thing that struck me as I read through all of the comments, emails, etc., is that, while all of you are all responding from a place of generosity and openheartedness, wanting to learn more about holding space for others, you also need to be given permission and encouragement to hold space for yourselves.
This is really important. If we don’t care for ourselves well in this work, we’ll suffer burnout, and risk becoming cynical and/or ineffective.
PLEASE take the time to hold space for yourself so that you can hold space for others.
It is not selfish to focus on yourself. In fact, it’s an act of generosity and commitment to make sure that you are at your best when you support others. They will get much more effective, meaningful, and openhearted support from you if you are healthy and strong.
In the Art of Hosting work that I do and teach, we talk about “hosting ourselves first”. What does it mean to “host myself first”? It means, simply, that anything I am prepared to encounter once I walk into a room, I need to be prepared to encounter and host in myself first. In order to prepare myself for conflict, frustration, ego, fear, anger, weariness, envy, injustice, etc., I need to sit with myself, look into my own heart, bear witness to what I see there, and address it in whatever way I need to before I can do it for others. I can’t hide any of that stuff in the shadows, because what is hidden there tends to come out in ways I don’t want it to when I am under stress.
AND just as I am prepared to offer compassion, understanding, forgiveness, and resolution to anything that shows up in the room, I need to offer it to myself first. Only when I am present for myself and compassionate with myself will I be prepared to host with strength and courage.
In other words, all of those points that I made about how to hold space for others can and should be applied to yourself first. Give yourself permission to trust your own intuition. Give yourself only as much information as you can handle. Don’t let anyone take your power away. Keep your ego out of it. Make yourself feel safe enough to fail. Give guidance and help to yourself with humility and thoughtfulness. Create your own container for complex emotions, fears, trauma, etc. And allow yourself to make decisions that are different from what other people would make.
This isn’t necessarily easy, when you’re doing the often stressful and time-consuming work of holding space for others, but it is imperative.
Here are some other tips on how to hold space for yourself.
- Learn when to walk away. You can’t serve other people well when your energy is depleted. Even if you can only leave the hospital room of your loved one for short periods of time, or you’re a single mom who doesn’t have much of a support system for caring from your kids, it is imperative that you find times when you can walk away from the place where you are needed most to take deep breaths, walk in nature, go for a swim, or simply sit and stare at the sunset. Replenish yourself so that you can return without bitterness. Whenever you can, take a longer break (a week at a retreat does wonders).
- Let the tears flow. When the only thing you can do is cry, that’s often the best thing you can do. Let the tears wash away the accumulated ick in your soul. A social worker once told me that “tears are the window-washer of the soul” and she was right. They help to clear your vision so that you can see better and move forward more successfully. When my husband was in the psych ward a few years ago, and I still had to maintain some semblance of normalcy for my children, I spent many, many hours weeping as I drove from the hospital to the soccer field and back again. Releasing those tears when I was alone or with close friends allowed me to be strong for the people who needed me most.
- Let others hold space for you. You can’t do this work alone and you’re not meant to. We are all meant to be communal people, showing up for each other in reciprocal ways. As I mentioned in my original post about holding space, we were able to hold space for my mom in her dying because others (like Anne, the palliative care nurse) were holding space for us. Many others were stopping to visit, bringing food, etc. We would have been much less able to walk that path with Mom if we hadn’t known there was a strong container in which we were being held.
- Practice mindfulness. Mindfulness is simply “paying attention to your attention”. In mindfulness meditation, you are taught that, instead of trying to stop the thoughts, you should simply notice them and let them pass. You don’t need to sit on a meditation cushion to practice mindfulness – simply pay attention to what emotions and thoughts are showing up, and when they come, wish them well and send them on their way. Are you angry? Notice the anger, name it anger, ask yourself whether there is any value in holding onto this anger, and then let it pass. Frustrated? Notice, name, inquire, and then let it pass.
- Find sources of inspiration. There are many, many writers, artists, musicians, etc. whose wisdom can help you hold space for yourself. When I was nearing a nervous breakdown earlier this week because of the intensity of my post going viral, I went to a Martyn Joseph concert (my favourite musician), and when he started to sing “I need you brave, I want you brave, I need you strong to sing along, You are so beautiful, and I’m not wrong”, I was sure he was singing directly to me. (Watch it on Youtube.) That evening of music shifted the way I felt about what was going on and I was able to walk back into my work with courage and strength. Later in the week, when my site crashed and I was having trouble bringing it back to life, I went to sit in the poetry section of my favourite bookstore and read Billy Collins.
- Let other people live their own stories. You are not in charge of the world. You are only in charge of yourself and your own behaviours, thoughts, emotions, etc. Often when you are a caregiver, you’ll find yourself the target of other people’s frustration, anger, fear, etc. REMEMBER – that’s THEIR story, not yours. Just because they yell at you doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. Take a deep breath, say to yourself “I am not responsible for their emotion, I am only responsible for how I respond”, and then let it go. When you’re feeling wounded by what they’re projecting on you, return to the points above and walk away, practice mindfulness, and let others hold space for you.
- Find a creative outlet for processing what you’re experiencing. Write in a journal, paint, dance, bake, play the guitar – do whatever replenishes your soul. Few things are as healing as time spent in creative practice. One of my favourite things to do is something I call Mandala Journailing, where I bring both my words and my wordlessness to the circle. You can learn to do it yourself in Mandala Discovery: 30 days of self-discovery through mandala journaling (which starts April 1st).
I hope that you will find the time this week to hold space for yourself. Your work is important, and the world needs more generous and open hearts who are healthy and strong enough to serve well.
Blessings to you.
Interested in more articles like this? Add your name to my email list and you’ll receive a free ebook, A Path to Connection. I send out weekly newsletters and updates on my work.
by Heather Plett | Mar 11, 2015 | art of hosting, circle, Community, Compassion, grace, grief, journey, leadership, Uncategorized
When my mom was dying, my siblings and I gathered to be with her in her final days. None of us knew anything about supporting someone in her transition out of this life into the next, but we were pretty sure we wanted to keep her at home, so we did.
While we supported mom, we were, in turn, supported by a gifted palliative care nurse, Ann, who came every few days to care for mom and to talk to us about what we could expect in the coming days. She taught us how to inject Mom with morphine when she became restless, she offered to do the difficult tasks (like giving Mom a bath), and she gave us only as much information as we needed about what to do with Mom’s body after her spirit had passed.
“Take your time,” she said. “You don’t need to call the funeral home until you’re ready. Gather the people who will want to say their final farewells. Sit with your mom as long as you need to. When you’re ready, call and they will come to pick her up.”
Ann gave us an incredible gift in those final days. Though it was an excruciating week, we knew that we were being held by someone who was only a phone call away.
In the two years since then, I’ve often thought about Ann and the important role she played in our lives. She was much more than what can fit in the title of “palliative care nurse”. She was facilitator, coach, and guide. By offering gentle, nonjudgmental support and guidance, she helped us walk one of the most difficult journeys of our lives.
The work that Ann did can be defined by a term that’s become common in some of the circles in which I work. She was holding space for us.
What does it mean to hold space for someone else? It means that we are willing to walk alongside another person in whatever journey they’re on without judging them, making them feel inadequate, trying to fix them, or trying to impact the outcome. When we hold space for other people, we open our hearts, offer unconditional support, and let go of judgement and control.
Sometimes we find ourselves holding space for people while they hold space for others. In our situation, for example, Ann was holding space for us while we held space for Mom. Though I know nothing about her support system, I suspect that there are others holding space for Ann as she does this challenging and meaningful work. It’s virtually impossible to be a strong space holder unless we have others who will hold space for us. Even the strongest leaders, coaches, nurses, etc., need to know that there are some people with whom they can be vulnerable and weak without fear of being judged.
In my own roles as teacher, facilitator, coach, mother, wife, and friend, etc., I do my best to hold space for other people in the same way that Ann modeled it for me and my siblings. It’s not always easy, because I have a very human tendency to want to fix people, give them advice, or judge them for not being further along the path than they are, but I keep trying because I know that it’s important. At the same time, there are people in my life that I trust to hold space for me.
To truly support people in their own growth, transformation, grief, etc., we can’t do it by taking their power away (ie. trying to fix their problems), shaming them (ie. implying that they should know more than they do), or overwhelming them (ie. giving them more information than they’re ready for). We have to be prepared to step to the side so that they can make their own choices, offer them unconditional love and support, give gentle guidance when it’s needed, and make them feel safe even when they make mistakes.
Holding space is not something that’s exclusive to facilitators, coaches, or palliative care nurses. It is something that ALL of us can do for each other – for our partners, children, friends, neighbours, and even strangers who strike up conversations as we’re riding the bus to work.
Here are the lessons I’ve learned from Ann and others who have held space for me.
- Give people permission to trust their own intuition and wisdom. When we were supporting Mom in her final days, we had no experience to rely on, and yet, intuitively, we knew what was needed. We knew how to carry her shrinking body to the washroom, we knew how to sit and sing hymns to her, and we knew how to love her. We even knew when it was time to inject the medication that would help ease her pain. In a very gentle way, Ann let us know that we didn’t need to do things according to some arbitrary health care protocol – we simply needed to trust our intuition and accumulated wisdom from the many years we’d loved Mom.
- Give people only as much information as they can handle. Ann gave us some simple instructions and left us with a few handouts, but did not overwhelm us with far more than we could process in our tender time of grief. Too much information would have left us feeling incompetent and unworthy.
- Don’t take their power away. When we take decision-making power out of people’s hands, we leave them feeling useless and incompetent. There may be some times when we need to step in and make hard decisions for other people (ie. when they’re dealing with an addiction and an intervention feels like the only thing that will save them), but in almost every other case, people need the autonomy to make their own choices (even our children). Ann knew that we needed to feel empowered in making decisions on our Mom’s behalf, and so she offered support but never tried to direct or control us.
- Keep your own ego out of it. This is a big one. We all get caught in that trap now and then – when we begin to believe that someone else’s success is dependent on our intervention, or when we think that their failure reflects poorly on us, or when we’re convinced that whatever emotions they choose to unload on us are about us instead of them. It’s a trap I’ve occasionally found myself slipping into when I teach. I can become more concerned about my own success (Do the students like me? Do their marks reflect on my ability to teach? Etc.) than about the success of my students. But that doesn’t serve anyone – not even me. To truly support their growth, I need to keep my ego out of it and create the space where they have the opportunity to grow and learn.
- Make them feel safe enough to fail. When people are learning, growing, or going through grief or transition, they are bound to make some mistakes along the way. When we, as their space holders, withhold judgement and shame, we offer them the opportunity to reach inside themselves to find the courage to take risks and the resilience to keep going even when they fail. When we let them know that failure is simply a part of the journey and not the end of the world, they’ll spend less time beating themselves up for it and more time learning from their mistakes.
- Give guidance and help with humility and thoughtfulness. A wise space holder knows when to withhold guidance (ie. when it makes a person feel foolish and inadequate) and when to offer it gently (ie. when a person asks for it or is too lost to know what to ask for). Though Ann did not take our power or autonomy away, she did offer to come and give Mom baths and do some of the more challenging parts of caregiving. This was a relief to us, as we had no practice at it and didn’t want to place Mom in a position that might make her feel shame (ie. having her children see her naked). This is a careful dance that we all must do when we hold space for other people. Recognizing the areas in which they feel most vulnerable and incapable and offering the right kind of help without shaming them takes practice and humility.
- Create a container for complex emotions, fear, trauma, etc. When people feel that they are held in a deeper way than they are used to, they feel safe enough to allow complex emotions to surface that might normally remain hidden. Someone who is practiced at holding space knows that this can happen and will be prepared to hold it in a gentle, supportive, and nonjudgmental way. In The Circle Way, we talk about “holding the rim” for people. The circle becomes the space where people feel safe enough to fall apart without fearing that this will leave them permanently broken or that they will be shamed by others in the room. Someone is always there to offer strength and courage. This is not easy work, and it is work that I continue to learn about as I host increasingly more challenging conversations. We cannot do it if we are overly emotional ourselves, if we haven’t done the hard work of looking into our own shadow, or if we don’t trust the people we are holding space for. In Ann’s case, she did this by showing up with tenderness, compassion, and confidence. If she had shown up in a way that didn’t offer us assurance that she could handle difficult situations or that she was afraid of death, we wouldn’t have been able to trust her as we did.
- Allow them to make different decisions and to have different experiences than you would. Holding space is about respecting each person’s differences and recognizing that those differences may lead to them making choices that we would not make. Sometimes, for example, they make choices based on cultural norms that we can’t understand from within our own experience. When we hold space, we release control and we honour differences. This showed up, for example, in the way that Ann supported us in making decisions about what to do with Mom’s body after her spirit was no longer housed there. If there had been some ritual that we felt we needed to conduct before releasing her body, we were free to do that in the privacy of Mom’s home.
Holding space is not something that we can master overnight, or that can be adequately addressed in a list of tips like the ones I’ve just given. It’s a complex practice that evolves as we practice it, and it is unique to each person and each situation.
It is my intention to be a life-long learning in what it means to hold space for other people, so if you have experience that’s different than mine and want to add anything to this post, please add that in the comments or send me a message.
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This post continues to travel around the world and has been shared in many interesting places, including a Harvard Business Review article, Beyond Automation, and a Grist Magazine article, 48 hours that changed the future of the rainforest. I have done a number of radio interviews, developed workshops, and spoke at conferences on the subject. If you are interested in having me speak at your event, check out my speaking page. If you are interested in a retreat or workshop, check out the one coming up in Australia, or contact me about creating a workshop tailored to your organization’s or event’s needs.
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Follow-up pieces about holding space:
How to hold space for yourself first
What’s the opposite of holding space?
Sometimes holding space feels like doing nothing
Sometimes you have to write on the walls: Some thoughts on holding space for other people’s personal growth
On holding space when there is an imbalance of power and privilege
Leave space for others to fill your needs
What the circle holds
An unresolved story that I don’t know how to tell
Holding liminal space (moving beyond the cliché into deeper space)
If you’re looking for a pdf version for printing and/or passing around to others, you can download it here. You’re welcome to share it, but if you want to re-publish any part of it, please contact me.
Here’s a keynote address I gave at a conference in May 2016 on the topic of holding space:
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by Heather Plett | Mar 4, 2015 | art of hosting, circle, Uncategorized
photo credit: Greg Littlejohn
If you want to make a tasty soup, you don’t throw your ingredients onto the stove and hope they somehow transform themselves into a soup.
Instead, you choose the right container that will hold all of the ingredients and allow room for the soup to boil without bubbling over onto the stove. Then you begin to add the ingredients in the right order. First you might fry onions and garlic to bring out their best flavour. Then you add the right amount of soup stock. And finally the vegetables and/or meat are added according to how long each ingredient takes to cook. If you want to make a creamy or cheesy soup, you add the dairy only after everything else has cooked and the soup is no longer at a full boil.
Through this intentional and careful act of creation, you allow the flavours to blend and layer into a meal that has the potential to be greater than the sum of its parts.
The same is true for a meaningful conversation.
If you want to gather people to talk about something important, you don’t simply throw them together and hope what shows up is good and meaningful. Sure, sometimes serendipity happens and a magical conversation unfolds in the most unexpected and unplanned places, but more often than not, it requires some intention to take the conversation to a deeper, more meaningful level.
Take, for example, the recent community conversation on race relations that Rosanna Deerchild initiated and I facilitated. If we had simply invited people into a common space for a meal without giving some thought to how the conversation would flow, people would have stayed at the tables where their friends or family had gathered, conversations would have stayed at a fairly shallow level, and we wouldn’t have gotten very far in imagining a city free of racism. Instead, we moved people around the room, mixed them with people they’d never spoken with before, and then asked a series of questions that encouraged storytelling and the generation of ideas. Through a process called World Cafe, we arranged it so that everyone in the room would end up in small, intimate conversations with three different groups of people. We followed that up with a closing circle. (Stay tuned for more idea-generating conversations such as this one in the future.)
Especially when the subject matter is as challenging as race relations, the quality of the conversation is only as good as the container that holds it.
If you try to cook soup in a plastic bowl, you’ll end up with a melted bowl and a mess all over your kitchen. Similarly, if you try to have a heated conversation in a container not designed for that purpose, you run the risk of doing more harm than good.
The same is true for our Thursday evening women’s circle. We could have a perfectly lovely time gathering informally to talk about our families, our jobs, and our latest shopping trips, but if we want to have the kind of intimate, open-hearted conversations we always have, we have to create the right container that can hold that level of depth. In this case, the container is the circle, where we pass a talking piece and listen deeply to each person’s stories without interrupting or redirecting the conversation.
Recently, a few people have asked whether the principles that I teach (that emerge out of The Circle Way and The Art of Hosting) might be transferable to other, less formal conversations. What if I have to have a difficult conversation with my parents or siblings, for example? Or with my co-workers? Or my kids? What can I do to make sure everyone is heard in an environment where I’m certain they’d all laugh at the idea of a talking piece?
In many of our day-to-day conversations, it may not be practical or even desirable to set the chairs in a circle or bring in a facilitator to help you navigate difficult terrain. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be intentional about creating the right container for your conversations.
Here are some tips for creating containers for meaningful everyday conversations:
1. Consider the way the physical environment fits the conversation. If you want to have a potentially contentious conversation with your staff, for example, you might find that a meeting space away from your office provides a more neutral environment. If you want to talk to a friend about something that will invite vulnerability and deep emotion, you might not want to do it in a coffee shop where you run the risk of overexposure. Or if you need to talk to your parents about their declining health, it’s probably best to do that in an environment that feels safe for them.
2. Find ways to make the physical environment more conducive for intimate and intentional conversation. If you wish to invoke the essence of circle, for example, you could place a candle on the table between you. Or move the table out of the way entirely to remove the boundaries. If you want to invite creative thinking into the room, set out blank paper and coloured markers for doodling. (This would be a great way of planning your vacation with your family, for example.) Consider how the space can help you create conditions for success. Even if you are meeting online, you can still evoke safe physical space by inviting participants to imagine the common elements they would place in a room if they were all together.
3. Host yourself first. If you know that a conversation will be difficult for you and/or anyone else involved, be intentional about preparing for it well. Take some time for self-care and personal reflection. Go for a walk, write in your journal, meditate, or have a hot bath. You’ll be much more prepared to bring your best to a conversation if you enter it feeling relaxed and strong. If you plan to ask some hard questions in the conversation that might trigger others in the room, ask yourself those questions first and write whatever comes up for you in your journal. Don’t ask of anyone else what you’re not prepared to first ask of yourself.
4. Ask generative questions. Questions have the power to shut down the conversation if they come across as judgmental or closed-minded, or they have the power to help people dive more deeply into their stories and imagine a new reality together. Consider how your questions make the people you’re in conversation with feel heard and respected, and consider how a question might invite everyone present to generate fresh perspectives and deeper relationships.
5. Model vulnerability and authenticity. In order to engage in deep and meaningful relationships, participants need to be willing to be vulnerable and authentic. If you want to invite others into that space of openness and vulnerability, you need to be prepared to go there yourself. Consider starting the conversation with a personal story that will invite similar storytelling from others. Storytelling opens hearts and brings down defenses, and that’s the place where meaningful conversation thrives.
6. Listen well. People are much more inclined to engage when they feel that they are seen and heard and not judged or marginalized. Practice deep listening. As Otto Scharmer and Katrin Kaufer teach in Leading from the Emerging Future, we need to move beyond level 1 (downloading) and level 2 (factual) listening to level 3 (empathic) and level 4 (generative) listening. Empathic listening is about being willing to enter into someone else’s story and be impacted and changed by it. Generative listening is about being fully present in your listening in a way that can generate something new and fresh out of that shared space. If you model effective listening, it will be much easier for others to follow your example. Even if you don’t use a talking piece, imagine that the person you’re listening to is holding a talking piece and give them undivided attention. When they are fully heard, they will be more likely to do the same for you.
7. Guard the space and time carefully. When we gather in The Circle Way, one person serves as the guardian, paying attention to the energy of the room and bringing the conversation back to intention when it wanders off. This person takes responsibility for ensuring that the space is protected, not allowing interruptions or distractions. When you are in a conversation that is important to you, consider how you can guard the space. Eliminate distractions like cell phones or other electronics. Consider what needs attention in order to make everyone feel safe and protected. When vulnerability is called for, for example, take care to create an environment where nobody is allowed to interrupt the storytelling.
8. Co-create future possibilities. If you enter a conversation convinced that you know how it’s supposed to turn out, you will limit what can happen in that conversation. Those you’ve invited into the conversation will sense that their participation is not fully valued and will shut down and not offer their best. Instead, enter a conversation with an open heart, an open mind, and an open will and be prepared to emerge with a new possibility you’ve never considered before. Allow the stories and ideas generated in the conversation to change the future and to change you.
When you begin to pay more attention to the container in which you hold your conversations, you’ll be surprised at how much more depth and meaning will emerge. Sometimes, this will mean difficult things will surface and it won’t always be comfortable, but with the right care and attention, even the difficult things will help you move in a positive direction.
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