One of the questions we talked about during the evening session was this: What brought you to the work of organization development and change? This question sent me on quite a journey, and I found traces in a number of corners and caverns of my mind. And what I found is not so much how I came to organization development and change; rather how I became present to something that was calling me. Here’s the story I’ve got in my head right now.

I recall a moment from years ago when a wide-smile feeling of awe spread throughout my body as I watched the Pacific Ocean on a grey day. I saw cords of light stride down from the clouds and dance in-synch with the ocean’s currents. It was as if some invisible structure of the universe was being offered to me. The dance went on until rain drove me into my car. I had no words to describe what I saw. Not even my science teacher-neighbor, the one who won my allegiance when he dropped dry ice into a bowl of water, could explain.

Yes I have goals and responsibilities; results to achieve, relationships to nurture and interests to pursue; in short, I have many good reasons for doing what I do. Yet good reasons often beget more good reasons to do more things, to take on more projects. This sense of strain and stress is something I hear about from a great many of the people with whom I work. And this state of affairs leaves me with a nagging question: What if all our effort comes to nothing and our lives, our organizations, or the world, doesn’t get better despite all the advances, successes, and best intentions? Yet, it isn’t as bleak as this sounds.

Recently I was thinking about the differences in these landscapes and the way they speak to how organizations perform and are led. Until relatively recently, organizations were run from the mountain top, so to speak, where individual wizards or a small bands of arbiters carefully crafted strategy and gave direction they expected others to follow. Whether or not renowned leaders from the past worked in such a manner, the predominant mindset of organizational performance was the mountain. A plain, in contrast, brings to mind a ‘level playing field,’ one where unobstructed sight lines invite open collaboration and communication between diverse perspectives.

perceptions depend on shadows and light. Our insights and impressions are composed of shadows and light. This space is intended as a place to share and explore what we see in our work, and the dynamics of the shadow and light we experience there. This is a small invocation:

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong…

eecummings