My Love Affair with the Circle

Pardon the existential pun, but I don’t know where my love affair with the circle started. Some of my visual artworks are linear landscapes. Even those are created through simple cycles of breath. An in/out circular process that lets my mind and heart loop as I set down each colorful horizontal line.

My college thesis was an amalgamation of circular poetry and images, a philosophical work that dared to challenge the primacy of academic prose and rationality in favor of softer and rounder ambiguities. The work narrowly passed for credit and only under the cover of a forgiving oral defense.

I was just beginning to find visual languages to get closer to my own philosophical renderings. Ubuntu, togetherness, completion — some concepts can’t be made well without circular shapes.

I was grappling with dichotomies at the time, deep in study with Judith Butler’s writing and enthralled with Canadian and French feminists lacunae and silences. Ying/yang and infiniti symbols gave me a way to account for flows of power. Visually, I could better illustrate such polarities inside their discursive bonds, binds, and flips.

Three-dimensional globes appeared as I began to study particular domains and discourses. Leadership, culture, art, nature — intersecting orbs and bubbles adhered to one another in unusual combinations. I began to visualize the language domains in a diverse room or the way city cultures overlap and intrude on each other.

Deleuze’s rhizomatics helped me apply asymmetry, movement, and change to my visual models. Suddenly, a circle shape became a tunnel and a tuber. Sadly, also a tumor. Circlular movements shouldn’t be mistaken for cuddly kindness. Circles famously exclude, too.

Theories of teamwork, community, and advocacy are well-served by rounded edges, thinking in loopings, and widening the circle to unique voices and contributions. Embrace of the earth, folds in time, my own rhythmic bobbing — each come with centering qualities to locate my place in each moment and make a stone’s ripple in our time.

Tidying Up

I wish for everyone a neglected blog. A pillow pile of old posts for the times when tattered life needs tending. Sentences sewn together again. Old fabric mixed with new finds. Unpicking certain threads.

This blog dropped off at the end of the Washington Writer’s Retreat, after a good run on topics like creative practice, global cultures, and the secular Buddhist practice of dana, or balanced exchange.

That writing was preceded by a few years of travelogs, including a creative road trip across the United States, visits in Melbourne, Brussels, and Johannesburg, where Louise and I met and have been earning miles ever since.

I still carefully carry with me the handwritten journals of youth, now more fascinating for their materiality and privacy. Unlike the internet, they can be burned.

I trained in graphic design in high school, luckily landing in a small print shop run by a larger-than-life leader. The smell of ink and photographic chemicals wafts among graphic memories, a time when life’s tragic romance walked in the front door. Wedding and baby announcements. My own graduation news. Also funerals and flyers for lost dogs.

Sadly, I designed more than a few business cards for start-ups destined to fail. Incomplete ideas, personal hubris, time-wasting exercises recommended by supportive friends. Also, very tender reasons like having a scrap of stock with one’s name on it when everything else had been torn away.

Pinning down colors was crucial. Flipping through fonts revealed notes of class and status. Name specifics, title details, followed by the minor marketing messages. So big in the mind, so small in the visual space. As an object, the business card is created to be so valueless as to be given freely. And it is laden with identities and latent opportunities.

I can’t help it, I kept nearly all of them handed to me over the years. Well out-of-date and entirely eclipsed by technology. Tiny portraits of past professions. People as they appear in paperwork, along with the resumes and websites too. Works in progress.

The combined skills of writing and design have served me well professionally. More recent executive and management work appears in slides, speeches, and proposals. Data visualization has become a lifelong passion and frustration, along with stories that reveal the very complex values beneath all manner of facts and finance.

Three syllabi and slide sets due for updating soon. Site visits and photos so memorable they bear mention. Social media memes scattered across a collectible universe. Also that time I invented a phrase and it got grand prize on an old radio show.

“Ohma lo neary”

A phrase to replace of ‘sorry’ in response to loss or grief

Time travels, too, back to moments before my own musings. The who and whose that made my mental landscapes. The places only my soul has been before.

And, more. Here’s to wild, untended, and not yet ended spaces.

Don’t question me – How powerful leaders lose touch

I’ve been working with a leader who very clearly doesn’t like to be questioned. He wields his authority to control topics and dissuades difficult discussions in large groups. In small groups and one-on-one, he uses desultory commentary to take up air and judging criticism to curtail openness. His position requires these types of conversations and he hosts them in a perfunctory way, but because of his behavior they produce few actionable results and he appears to be ok with that.
My interest in his defensiveness is not meant as an indictment of his character. He’s a lovely and learned guy, truly, and great strengths show in his presence and his own scholarly work. But he has a leadership problem that hobbles his organizational effectiveness. As a scholar of leadership theory, a consultant, and a leadership practitioner myself, I’m curious about that management dysfunction. What to do — from any position — when a formal leader stifles productive discussion?
The classic HBR essay, In Praise of the Incomplete Leader, provides the framework for integrative leadership practice. Leaders recognize and routinely scan relevant perspectives in order to accurately understand their field of play. Because most innovative solutions come from opportunistic anomalies in complex systems, leaders need to be attuned to both familiar and foreign sources of insight and information. Then, they relate to and engage those perspectives to create a shared vision. The essay says, “If they realize other people aren’t joining in, or buying into the vision, they don’t just turn up the volume; they engage in a dialogue about the reality they hope to produce.” Finally, leaders engage teams to invent solutions together.
These concepts are well established in the theoretical evolution of the leadership field (here’s a handy chart on leadership theory if you’re curious) and there’s plenty of evidence that this approach works. But not all leadership practitioners are studied in what they do and increases in formal power appear to exacerbate this particular dysfunction. I’m curious about how to encourage a transformation in that circumstance. It is technically fixable, but he’s stubborn about it and that makes it an adaptive challenge. What conditions need to be present for a leader of high formal authority to make that kind of shift?
One element that affects transformation is the risk environment. Leaders tend to make adaptive changes when confronted with realities dissonant with their visions. In other words, when the shit hits the fan and the normal approach doesn’t work anymore, they are more willing to try something else. The risk with risk, though, is that conservative leaders often retrench. They shut down difficult conversations, hide mistakes, and denigrate people they perceive as detractors, thereby cutting themselves off from the opportunities right in front of them. They seek to deny or erase the very information they need to inform the new approach. Ironically, it’s a devoted team and close confidantes that can cut through the fear and loneliness to challenge old frames, offer insight, and give the necessary permissions to fail. It’s not the work of the formal leader himself, but the courageous actions of those nearby who see the consequences of his behavior and whom he trusts.
Liminality also supports transformative change. Environments that encourage experimentation, whether they be idea spaces or physical spaces, can make novelty seem more comfortable and intuitively trigger new thoughts and behaviors. It’s why we go away on retreats, plan brainstorming meetings, schedule studio days, and take friends out for coffee when they seem boxed in. Leaders have to know not to control the frames in those spaces, though. Entrenched leaders often unconsciously cue others that the environment may seem different but the old rules apply. They stand at the front of the room, selectively call on people to speak, and form groups around old patterns. They use the design of the event itself to reify existing power structures, so that there’s nothing interstitial about it. It’s the work of other people who carefully cut off those controls to make room for something different or unknown to emerge. This is the secret power of facilitators and event planners.
Scaffolding helps too. We know from educational theory that learners who leap do so because they believe there is a new platform within their reach. In organizational terms, it is the human resources infrastructure — goal-setting, supervisory oversight, and regular performance evaluations — that provides the expectation of professional development and the support for it. That works for leaders positioned inside the organization but for entrenched executive leaders, this process is often externalized, sanitized, and highly politicized which renders it ineffective as a tool in transformational change. Again, it would be a board or an oversight committee exercising its own leadership to build a new frame for top leaders to climb.
Unfortunately, transformation is sometimes thrust upon these leaders by debilitating professional setback, health crisis, or profound tragedy. Entrenched leaders sometimes create those conditions for themselves, perhaps as a result of an unconscious need to relieve the existential pain of being disconnected and unchanged. More often, the bus just breaks down and they’re left on the side of the road with no map and no way home. Thus begins an excruciating journey, from which some emerge better and many others are simply broken. It’s risk and liminality without the benefit of scaffolding, and it’s a very tough way to learn.
I’m not sure what it will be with this guy, though I hope very much that the people around him accurately assess his problem and apply their own empathy and power, ideally before nature and time take their toll. In another essay, I’d like to explore the role of cultural institutions as a place where powerful people can confront their demons and find their blind spots. There is some precedent for museums as places of professional development for doctors, lawyers, and law enforcement. If we were to be that for entrenched organizational leaders, how would we attract them and what would we do?