It Takes a Table

I'm participating in a 10-month program in Co-Active Leadership this year.  The first component, a six-day program at a beautiful retreat center in North Carolina's Blue Ridge Mountains, ended last Sunday.  For major parts of those six days, our group had been sitting in chairs that looked lovely and fit the decor well, but did not make my lower back and hip joints happy at all.  I found a small end-table with a lower shelf that was a good height to prop my feet on, and life became more comfortable.

The table began to accumulate things.  I'd put my journal and pen on the shelf when I wasn't writing.  The person on my left would add hers.  The person on my right would set his coffee cup on it.  People began to cluster a bit. As we re-gathered after a break, one of the leaders remarked on the little village we were building.  I joked, "Well, you know how you always say 'It takes a village'? I say, 'It takes a table to build a village.'"

It takes a table to build a village.

If You Were a Building . . .

A fellow coach posted this question in a Facebook group of coaches:  "If you were an iconic building, which one would you be and what would that say about your identity in the world?"
First off, let me just say that I'm terrible at "If you were a _______, what would you be?"  As a Scanner, I have a hard time picking just one thing.  I always hear, even if it's not stated, an implied understanding that I could only ever pick one thing, and that would have to be my choice for all time.  I can't possibly choose between so many fabulous options.

This time I gave myself a different permission.  Here's what I wrote:


First I have to remember that the question only has to be 
"Which iconic building would you be right now." It doesn't have to be the one I'd pick to be forever and ever. Ok. Permission granted. So what just popped into my head for right now? Lambeau Field.

Now, I'll have to think about what that says. If you're a Green Bay Packer fan, you might not need an explanation of why someone might be Lambeau Field if they could choose any iconic building to be.  In case you're not, read on.

You Have to Know So Many Things

"Don't let them ruin her." -- My kindergarten teacher, talking to my mom.

"It's so hard. You have to know so many things to be a good girl." -- A friend's three-year-old daughter, after he told her why it wasn't a good idea to throw books at people.  (She'd chucked her book at him after storytime, leaving him with a nice bruise or two on his forehead, but I digress.)

Pebbles with cowboy
boots.  What's not to
love?

This three-year-old has been the source of a huge number of wise, insightful, hilarious, and beyond-her-years quotations since she has been able to talk.  Her dad posts them regularly to the internet group which is the only context for our acquaintance.  I've followed her journey since before she was born.  Her parents are marvelous chroniclers, and there have been pictures and stories galore.  I feel as though I know her better than some of the children I've met in "meatspace."

Joy.  Just joy.

  What I've seen in her through all the photos and all the stories and all her amazing quotable quotes is an almost unadulterated joy.  There's a creative spirit in this child that won't quit.  There's a brain that's busy processing All the Things.  All the time. And you have to know so many of them to be a good girl.

I can't remember being three.  Or four.  Or five, really.

Scanners and Divers

I love to scan the wide horizon in Georgian Bay.

I read a Facebook exchange the other day in which the participants were mentioning being "scanners" instead of "divers". I didn't have much time to look carefully then, but the terms stayed with me and I got curious. A little web searching led me to a book by Barbara Sher called Refuse to Choose. Sher directs her work at those people who say they can never stick to anything, have trouble picking something to focus on, don't went to choose a major because to do so means you can't pick all the other things that fascinate you, don't seem to find the one career path that will keep them happy. She says that many of these people are likely "Scanners", people who in another age might have been called Renaissance Souls, people who are fascinated by so many things that they can rarely bring themselves to focus on just one. They approach learning about something with great enthusiasm, and then, when they have learned what they want to about that subject, are ready to move on to something else. Unlike Divers, who love to dive down into the depths of an interest, Scanners keep scanning the horizon to see what else is out there.

It was like she had been watching me through a one-way mirror since I was a child.