We often ask what's next to do? how could we go faster? how can we get more done?And we turn away from other questions such as how does this feel for each of us? how tired are we? how can we sustain ourselves? what actually matters?But I think the biggest question we most often fail to address comes from an understanding that, as human beings, we are shaped deeply by that which we repeatedly do.We ask what to do, but we don't often ask ourselves "what is our doing doing?" - to us, to the people around us, and to the world we leave for those who come after us.
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It's also a book about the background narratives that shape our lives invisibly, and in particular the industrial narrative that has us keep our heads down and fit into the shape that others (particularly in the world of work) have made for us. At its heart is an impassioned plea for courage - to step out of the endless cycle of 'more and more' and the sense of scarcity it inevitably brings, and instead to turn towards what brings us and the people around us fully to life.For anyone who longs to make a contribution, but did not yet find the wherewithal to begin, I cannot recommend it too highly.Watch upcoming posts here for news of a book study group I'm about to launch. By joining you'll have the chance to read and talk about a book with others and explore how to bring it to life and work. The Icarus Deception will be the first book we'll be taking up.
It seems to me we could go a long way in work and in wider life we were to take aliveness more seriously.Many organisations I come across seem to be in the middle of a constriction that's going the other way. More processes, more rules, more plans, more meetings in which people wonder why they're present, more measures, more hours, more rushing, more emails, more unexpressed panic, more overwhelm, more spinning in tight spirals, more quiet fearfulness.Where does all this lead if we continue down this path?And yet, if you look closely and quietly for a while, you get to see that most of what's happening that's of value take place in spite of these, not because of them. The new idea sparked in a conversation in the lift, a moment of genuine connection between members of a team that allows for new understanding and trust, the discovery of some inner resourcefulness that allows someone to speak up in a new way, a fiery exchange in which what's important is expressed and heard: all are examples of this.When we forget that organisations are alive we miss a huge opportunity. At the moment I think most of us have our heads turned in the other direction.
"I'd like to have courageous conversations, but I can't tell the truth here", he told me, "because they won't make it safe for me to do so". He - a senior leader in a global corporation. They - the handful of people more senior (in a positional sense) than him.We talked for a while, and it became apparent that he was only willing to speak up about what he was seeing when it felt as if there was no risk to him. No risk to his position, of course, but also no risk of feeling embarrassed, ashamed, scared, confused. No risk of the gut-wrenching, stomach-churning body sensation that can come from speaking without knowing what will happen.I think this is an ethical question. The decision to say only what's important when it feels right withholds from others vital information which may not be available to them. More significantly, by staying silent in the face of what appears wrong or mistaken you condone, by your silence, what is happening.How can you call a conversation 'courageous' if it only happens when you know everything will be just fine?All of this is so important because your organisation, whatever size it is, is inescapably 
I sat outside for a while this morning, watching as trees slowly appeared from the lifting autumn-morning mist. This morning's sky was steel-grey, breaking into streaks of red and pink as the sun caught the underside of the clouds. It was still, quiet and achingly beautiful.A beginning of this sort happens many days of the year, yet many of us consistently miss any kind of genuine contact with the natural world of which we're all inescapably part. We rush from home to office, travelling in sealed cars or trains, and spend our days in the glow of electric lighting and computer screens.We wear our busyness and exhaustion as badges of pride and status, our inability to stop fully a sign of our importance or our earnestness. And in doing so we miss so much, not least an opportunity to return to a deep felt sense of our humanity and our place in the world that gave us life and which supports us.What do you think we become, individually and collectively, through our living this way?
Many of us are trying all the time to fit in, hoping that way we'll eventually have the recognition, trust and security we long for.But fitting in, rather than finding out who you are and bringing that, always involves some measure of contortion or self-abandonment. You discover eventually that what is recognised and trusted about you is precisely the distorted image you've been working to have others see. And it turns out not to feel safe or secure at all, because of the constant vigilance that maintaining such an image requires.Fitting in keeps the world just as it is, because it involves giving up those very parts of you which stand out, and which have the possibility of bringing something new.The alternative? Perhaps aiming towards this, beautifully expressed in the words of Rainer Maria Rilke:
When you find yourself filled with judgements about other people, don't be so sure that what you're experiencing is really anything much to do with them.It may well be a simple projection of the harsh judgments of your own inner critic.The critic covers its tracks like that. Wily enough to disguise itself in many ways, it would love to have you believe that everyone else is out to get you or disappoint you. And it would rather you blame what's outside you than turn your attention inwards, where you might discover its role in keeping your world so small and contained.For this reason, the first place to look when you're judgemental of others is towards yourself. You might just find it's there that your difficulty with them can be most skilfully resolved.
Overheard in a conversation with one of the most senior leaders of a huge international organisation:"I have no time to do what I think is really important, because I have so many meetings to go to".
A question to those who are leaders or in positions of authority: