Questions and Listening

/

One of the practices that I use in various leadership programs is what I call "soft-ball" questions--questions to which only the person we are asking could possibly know the answer,  And once we get the answer we can't possibly second guess the person.  They are the complete authority on their answer.  Questions like: "When did this first begin to trouble you?"  "What have you thought about doing?"    These questions which come from the hundreds of year old Quaker tradition of the clearness committee draw out the wisdom of the other--or as Parker Palmer says, they"listen the other person into their own knowing."  

Read More

Flourishing Enterprise

/

Flourishing Enterprise was written with eight colleagues who bring wildly different backgrounds and perspectives--all of whom intend to contribute to the possibility that the human species and all other species might flourish together on the earth, forever.  Published by Stanford University Press, and under the auspice of the business school at Case Western Reserve, it is the result of three years of arduous and challenging dialogue and exploration.

Read More

The Antique Lilac

/
The Antique Lilac

This year, after a miserably long and cold Michigan winter, the natural world up North is full of blooming wonders.  And one of the most remarkable examples of the exuberance of this spring is the antique lilac that lay on the ground for years behind the forsythia out by the road,  and which we hoisted up a couple of years back with a clothes-line tied off on a cedar stump.  In past years, if there were a bloom or two we were impressed.  But this year, the lilac, here to prove that age has nothing to do with vitality and creativity, has done itself proud.  Virginia Woolf said "I don't believe in aging.  I believe in forever altering one's aspect to the sun."   I guess we helped the lilac do that:  we altered the lilac's aspect to the sun.  Interesting to ask ourselves how we do that for each other.

Read More

Living Things

/

​

Living things 

photo (44).JPG

Are shaped 

By seeking light— 

Sometimes, 

Given the space, 

They can grow 

Straight and full— 

Yet context isn’t 

Always easy. 

That tree we passed— 

The trunk twisted— 

Had fought for light, 

I think, 

Until some 

Winter ice storm 

Years ago 

Had broken down 

Whatever blocked its 

Early path, 

And it began to 

Grow straight up. 

Like us, 

Its work is simple— 

Living through the storms, 

Continuing to grow 

Toward the light. 

 Judy Brown, June 13, 2012

-from Stepping Stones to be released Fall 2014, contact us to reserve a signed copy.

Mottled Donkey

/

Mottled donkey 


The mottled donkey, 

Large ears up, 

Judybrown

Grazing, or just 

Standing near 

The race horse, 

Plays a role 

Almost invisible 

To us. The horse, 

The horse’s owners, 

Know the truth: 

The race horse 

Needs the donkey’s 

Calming presence. 

I am the donkey. 

I am that one. 

 

 Judy Brown, December 15, 2013

-from Stepping Stones to be released Fall 2014, contact us to reserve a signed copy.

Turning Points and Steppingstones

/

Turning points and steppingstones 


IMG_1998.JPG

The turning points, 

The steppingstones 

Often arrive 

As some adversity 

Or opportunity— 

She said that 

With a depth of 

Understanding 

From her life— 

Out of the blue 

And unexpected— 

Years later 

She would see 

The path 

They had created— 

But in the moment 

Only confusion, 

Some surprise, 

Or grief, uncertainty 

About what 

Lay ahead. 

Her words still ring: 

The turning points 

In life oft show themselves 

As some adversity 

Or unexpected opportunity. 

And those to come? 

Those too. 

 

 Judy Brown, May 5, 2012

-from Stepping Stones to be released Fall 2014, contact us to reserve a signed copy.

A further thought in line with the poem: A gift of a quote from a colleague from a Portuguese proverb that the French love to use--"God writes straight on crooked lines"--profoundly true in so many things that happen that may seem bad but actually turn out for the best.

Snow Days

/

Snow Days

 

There isn't anything

more full of life and joy

that one's own child

who doesn't have

to go to school

because of snow.

 

The snowstorms

are an unexpected gift,

a time to snuggle

in a chair before a fire,

a time to play and laugh

and soak the laziness

into our bones,

a time to be

exceedingly undone.

 

For grown-ups such free days

are rare.  Our lives are focused by

the drumbeat of our work,

the cadence of impatient

fingers on a desk. 

 

Perhaps my child's lesson

is the one I need to learn--

there isn't anything

more full of

joy and fun,

than one entire day

that's full of snow

and free of everything

I thought was life.

-From The Sea Accepts All Rivers and Simple Gifts

 

Breathing Space

/
Breathing Space

This week it got cold enough here in Maryland to have a fire in the fireplace.  The first fire of the season.  Marking a turning toward winter.  And for us, a chance to begin to make good use of the wood from the 100 year old oak that was felled by a sudden storm 18 months ago.  So this first fire was a ritual of sorts.  And also a reminder to me of the importance of creating spaciousness in our lives.

Read More

Listen To The Music

/
Listen To The Music

The dog with the ear-buds, eyes closed, in seeming ecstasy, absolutely stopped me in my tracks.  It was a picture on the cover of a journal (Heaven only knows I don’t need more journals—I have beautiful ones already, and I produce journals for other people).   I was on a mission getting ready for a program this coming week, cruising through Staples with a list of office supplies in my hand.  The dog with the ear-buds was not on the list. I couldn’t leave the store without the picture of that dog, eyes closed, completely engrossed in listening. 

Read More

Some Favorite Poems, Mine and Others

/
Some Favorite Poems, Mine and Others

Poetry for Bread for the Journey

Dear One and All,

          Here are three poems, often mentioned, or quoted during our time together at Bread for The Journey, Kirkridge.  And then a couple of my own that emerged at Kirkridge—that I shared with some folks in small groups, and that I wanted to share with everyone. (Head's Up, we plan to offer this program again in 2014-15.)

Read More

Wooden Boats

/

Featured as today's poem on Panhala daily poetry posting. I'd like to share it with you as well., in honor of my brother, David. And perhaps you'll be moved to sign up for the daily poetry post yourselves. To sign up for the poetry from Panhala, send a blank email to:  Panhala-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

​

waiting for the tide.jpg

Wooden Boats

I have a brother who builds wooden boats,
Who knows precisely how a board
Can bend or turn, steamed just exactly
Soft enough so he, with help of friends,
Can shape it to the hull.

The knowledge lies as much
Within his sure hands on the plane 
As in his head;
It lies in love of wood and grain,
A rough hand resting on the satin 
Of the finished deck.

Is there within us each 
Such artistry forgotten
In the cruder tasks 
The world requires of us,
The faster modern work 
That we have
Turned our life to do?

Could we return to more of craft
Within our lives, 
And feel the way the grain of wood runs true,
By letting our hands linger 
On the product of our artistry?
Could we recall what we have known
But have forgotten, 
The gifts within ourselves, 
Each other too,
And thus transform a world 
As he and friends do,
Shaping steaming oak boards
Upon the hulls of wooden boats?

~ Judy Brown ~

(The Sea Accepts All Rivers & Other Poems)

Fire circles, stories and talking sticks.

/
Fire circles, stories and talking sticks.

This last week a group of twenty-five of us met for the third and final week together in our leadership program.  As has been our tradition, we began and ended our gathering with a check-in/check-out process, what we have begun to call a "fire circle".  Round-robin, one at a time, we listen to each others musings, and reflections on what is most on our hearts and minds. 

Read More