Sometimes the past reveals itself even after the original structure/event has passed. It might add depth and dimension to our understanding of the place we occupy. Otherwise, we will likely label something irrelevant while missing an opportunity to be curious.
Flying back to the United States from Europe, our flight path crossed the Arctic Circle, traveled north of Iceland and across Greenland, and dropped down into Canada. I have been close to the Arctic Circle on land adventures but have never crossed the line of demarcation at ground level. If somebody asks if I have been above the Arctic Circle, technically, the answer is yes, but the answer is not what I would consider authentic.
How might we ask more intentional questions when seeking a factual answer? How might we remain curious rather than accepting the first response we receive?
Last month, I received emails from three different social sector organizations launching separate mergers. Each one made me optimistic. The rationale and plan to move forward were well articulated, but more importantly, the work that had been done to move from concept to merger was impressive. Equally significant were the open questions that these different groups shared. The mergers may or may not work. The abilities of two unique boards of directors to combine may or may not resonate. Retaining all the staff members may or may not endure the transformation. But, there appeared to be a genuine attempt to continue providing essential services.
How might we be open to conversations about partnerships, mergers, and sunsetting if needed? How might we remain curious about the network of affiliates doing the work that matters? How might we not miss the opportunity to ask, ‘What other direction might we consider?’
Static might be disruptive and aggravating. It can seize our attention and disrupt our regularly scheduled programs. It transforms how we perceive time. But, it might be the forerunner to a significant event or tectonic shift. How might we remain curious about moments of misalignment and uncertainty? How might we remember that those who came to the edge of the Grand Canyon or trekked into Yellowstone’s Geyser Basin felt doubtful until something unprecedented emerged?
Watching a concert pianist from the keyboard’s point of view offers insight into their talents. If we always observe events from the same viewpoint or sit in the same seats, we are missing out on gaining additional perspectives. As a former collegiate cross-country skier, I recall that the NCAA champion skier on our team would preview the final kilometer of the race course by skiing it in reverse before turning around and skiing it as we raced. He gained more understanding of the course profile by seeing it backward before practicing it forward.
How might we seek out new points of view to better understand the place we occupy? How might we remain curious even when our patterns are habitual?
We think of property corners as calculated and precise. Real world experience demonstrates a variety of ways to establish a boundary. It is a reminder, just because we have interacted with one nonprofit, one board, one team, one program does not mean we have clarity on that organization and all the other causes/boards/staff/programs who occupy a similar space. What differentiates many of them is not the fence lines and boundaries but the work that takes place within their area of focus.
What if we were a little more curious about what is happening within instead of judging the size and scope of the enterprise we encounter?
Worst flight ever? It could be. Let us get curious before we write a letter of disappointment to the airline’s customer care department. It is a flight over France, in July, between two cities at the edge of the Alps. The plane is used to relay live video feeds from sporting events. The flight path indicates the event moved about 200 kilometers? It appears to be following a route over secondary roads and moving forward at an average speed of 45 kph.
Of course, you got the answer now, right? The event’s nickname is La Grande Boucle. It last three weeks and finishes in Paris…
The answer as you have discerned is the Tour de France. The plane provides ariel support for the motorcycle camera operators and the helicopters that hover just above the peloton. Without context, this flight path looks illogical. Apply generative thinking and options start coming to mind. Perhaps we should remember to ask, ‘what else could this be?’ Considering alternatives might be our greatest asset before acting.
What-if-concepts 