Notice that in today's date there is an 11, a 13, and a 15? All is well in this pattern. As all is well in the universe. Oh, and the bumbling around? It will correct itself.
Notice that in the rhythm of the morning's rising song line there are patterns, perfect in form, that may appear out of sequence? It begs the question out of what sequence. The relation of a form is to find the relationship. Just as the harmony finds the song line. In the noticing of pattern and form, there is great gift in the song line. It rises each morning as the song line of the night rushes ahead of the line of light and dark that plays upon the earth. Great is this song. This great play of light and dark.
The crisp of fall is in this morning dawn.
A bit ago, I knew some things. They were the truth in that part of the stream. Now, I have learned more and that knowing is not any more. Then, there was a set of rocks that the bubbling stream danced over and around. Some of those rocks tagged my boat. Glancing, and bruising. In a couple of cases, there was damage. In a slower place with a great sandy beach I was, with the help of others, able to pull ashore and repair.
A bit ago, I noticed that the assumptions no longer fit with the new things that I have learned. Fewer assumptions. Knowing less in the face of the unknown and noticing more.
In that learning, the certainty of knowing falls away. The more learned; the less known. Comfort in this noticing and in the patterns emerging. Perhaps they have always been there. Just haven't noticed with these eyes before.
What happens when the 'help' finds fault and recommends shifts in order to 'make' the services flow more evenly in terms of the client? Resistance. The 'way' it is has come to be through a set of dance steps, a set of rules of engagement, a set of patterns represented by how it is now. When a change agent is invited in, that agent will blunder around to find a set of flexes that will 'make' the whole work 'better.'
If that work is mutual. With care for the whole, care for the elements of the parts, and a commitment from all to engage in the shifts; there is potential that ... well change occurs with every breath. The more in balance then the bringing in of one set of material is congruent with the carrying out of that which is now ready to dance with the greater creation.
Is the work mutual?
In that 'mutual' is it collaborative?
Is the collaboration focused?
Is the focus toward shared goals?
Are the shared goals clear?
In that clarity are the roles to accomplish mutually accepted?
Do those roles manage the elements of the system?
Are the system elements balanced?
In the answers to these questions is there flexibility to respond to a changed condition?
If the answer today is different than the answer yesterday, can the work respond?
Is that response in reaction or as an engagement?
The more this set of questions rise, the more new answers come, the less the 'known' can be the response and the more the fullness of allowing the new condition to be a part of the system makes everything new. In that new-ness is a pliability and flexibility of response.
The land across the street is in transition. The 'permanent' tree crop is soon growing as row crop. The land is going through change. How that change is framed ... like a fine symphony, how the harmony, the tension of the vibration in the notes, in the timbre, in the cadence of the forms... all and then in the hearing side too, it all is connected.
In that transition, there can be clearing away or ... where is the resistance in that set of facts? Where is the new pattern emergent?
Will enjoy each set of observations. In the contemplation of this transition. That way, what emerges is through engaged observation and a finding of fact. In that noticing, that enjoyment, good collaborative leadership comes too play. Practiced playing. Perhaps a song. A work song.
In a place we once stayed there was this grumpy grocer across the street. He would yell and gesticulate at people both inside and outside his shop. He was part of the landscape for me; not so much for the people who he yelled at or gesticulated at....
A grumpy grocer has passed on where we live. He was a friend of mine. In his wonderful grumpy way. His yelling and gesticulating were motivated out of kind anger at the silly things that we, his juniors, were bumbling around doing.
It makes me wonder at the assumptions about that place before. In that wonder, there is a moment of gratitude for the lesson, taught several years ago, that in my home place, that unique person, now passed, was a friend, and not just part of the landscape.