On the Cusp of Something New

On the Cusp of Something New

When I'm at the crux of fear and joy, what do I do?

I write about it.

How do you react when life offers you choices you'd never expected?

Run? Ignore? Embrace? Weigh every option? Jump-in?

I first entered the university classroom at 18, having been taught that professors knew everything. Tidy, binary rules were in nice, clean, separate boxes in my mind. I didn't yet know how to critically engage, dialogue, consider complexity, or grapple with messy, seemingly conflicting truths.

My K-12 experience taught me that I was stupid because I'm not a traditional learner and seriously suck at memorization. 

In university classrooms, I learned about the world outside of my limited experience. Educators sparked my fascination with societal and organizational systems of justice and inequity, lighting a fire in me toward a liberatory future.

Today I enter the university classroom as an adjunct professor.

I am a facilitator that learns alongside.
I am a practitioner who makes mistakes.
I am a coach and consultant who holds complexity toward clarity with brilliant leaders.

I'm no savior, no sage on a stage. 
I'm a learner who loves grappling with the messy, and applying liberatory frameworks and practices toward healing and flourishing. 

What I don't know, I will be curious about. 
When I feel defensiveness, I'll breathe and ground myself. 

I can't wait to see what the students teach me. 

I've spent twenty-two years supporting educators and leaders to start, launch, plan, and facilitate learning spaces. Until now, my "classroom" hasn't been a traditional one. There's a first time for everything if we're open. If we don't close the door before we walk through it.

What does it feel like for you to launch something new that's scary, exciting, fresh, and unknown? 

Through the newness, I'm practicing:

1. Breathing. Yes, this may sound cheesy or overdone. But it's true, ya'll. When we center ourselves by taking a few breaths, it resets our nervous system and anchors us into the present. 
2. Not stuffing down or numbing my anxiety or bubbling fear. What if I don't have the right answer? What if I get it all wrong? What if the students don't want to hold critical thinking space together, with me? I choose to trust them and myself, together. Noticing my anxiety or fear and not acting from that energy is my practice.
3. Resting in imperfection. Perfectionism is a tool of the oppressor, even if that oppressor is internalized within us. Perfectionism is a lie.
4. Centering my curiosity. The world is a vibrant, beautiful, brutal, painful, lovely, mess. When I'm curious about all of it, not hiding from the messy or the dichotomous truth, I can hold open, loving, curiosity. 
5. Embracing my learning orientation. I don't believe anyone knows all of the answers, and I'm healing from being enculturated into the "sage on the stage" lie of hierarchical and knowledge-based education.

In your experience, how do you hold kindness and bravery with yourself when embarking on something new...and a little scary? I'd love to hear about it.

I hope that we all reflect upon our positionality, fears, gifts, tenacity, and love, toward liberatory spaces for us and those around us.

In closing, after this summer's two-month hiatus from blogging, I'm excited to get back to blogging again. Our fall blog season will shine the spotlight on the intersection of learning and application between the university and the Process Consulting space.

It's a joy at L3 Catalyst Group to learn and lead alongside you toward individual and collective liberation. Reach out if you'd like to connect further.

Fellow leaders and learners, I wish you courage, rest, and beloved community along the journey.