What if? America, the Beautiful ...
... the people dreamed new images and created new ways to live
As I reflected on everything I learned at the Teton Leadership Conference Kickoff Summit a couple of weeks ago, my eyes floated to the chaotic collage of thoughts and hopes stuck to the wall of my desk (which is in a laundry closet!). They landed on this viral prophetic poem with no name written by an unknown retired teacher named Kitty O’Meara during the pandemic - you probably read it - but it never gets old, especially since it’s coming true.
And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply.
Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently. And the people healed.
And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.
And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed. ~ Kitty O’Meara
The Center for the Arts theatre (and a few speaker dinner parties) saw sound bowl healers and 25-year-old social media influencers rubbing elbows, hugging, and breaking bread with hedge fund managers, bankers, and city council members. Despite the presence of Betsy Myers, who worked for both Presidents Clinton and Obama, politics were rarely discussed ~ and if they were, it was with a spirit of interconnectedness and respect for diverse ideas.
One exception was a joke made by Matthew McCarthy (who made you feel anything was possible). While telling stories about his most challenging times as CEO he shrugged his shoulders and said, “The people calling for a boycott of Ben and Jerry’s on Twitter? Whoever wrote that never bought Ben and Jerry’s anyway.”
The speakers asked us to lead from our heart, to define what true success is from the perspective of our personal well-being and the health of our community and environment. They challenged us to define our own unique purpose, our gift to the world, and to say no to what doesn’t create abundance and flourishing.
They suggested that we re-write the stories of conventional culture, business, and civic life and reinvent our organizations to drive results through purpose. We were empowered to turn our anxieties into excitement and to see that it’s not a zero-sum balance or sacrifice to do good things for our community and environment and saw up close examples of other’s success and our collective potential to harness change as a “democratizing force.”
“Change is good, it’s when things are bolted to the ground that we should feel anxiety.” – Matthew McCarthy, former CEO of Ben and Jerry’s
Kitty’s poem reminds us that we have to heal ourselves before we join together again … and there’s another chance to joyfully explore this topic in a couple of weeks at CASCADE. I’m so excited to I'm so excited to be included as a speaker on the topic of "Cultivating Dignity as a Pathway for Gentle Action – a New Way of Relating and Being." This is the follow-up event to the transformational Across the Water Gathering last October, which I wrote about in Unleashed: What's been happening since an earthquake of sadness and fear arrived at my door?
“Don’t underestimate the power of vision and direction. These are irresistible forces, able to transform what might appear to be unconquerable obstacles into traversable pathways and expanding opportunities. Strengthen the individual. Start with yourself. Take care with yourself. Define who you are. Refine your personality. Choose your destination and articulate your Being.” ~ Jordan Peterson
In response to the challenge to be the map maker, not the map follower, I remembered during the closing of the conference, a poem I’d written in 2021 for the Teton County Centennial Celebration contest asking, “What does Teton County look like in another 100 years.” I was honored to read an excerpt of it to close out the TLC conference (full poem linked below).
At the time I wrote it, I thought it was ridiculously aspirational and was almost embarrassed to read it. Today, as I bask in the glorious explosion of fall in the Tetons – with all its change tantalizing both my dread and love of winter – I’m feeling like it just might be possible.
