by Larry Dressler
A volcano erupts in Iceland. Tens of thousands of flights are cancelled, and millions of passengers stranded. This is the kind of surprise I call an "oy vey moment." Oy vey is a Yiddish term. I grew up hearing my grandparents use the expression frequently. It's an exclamation of dismay, frustration, or exasperation.
Oy vey moments have three defining characteristics. They are unexpected. They are unwanted. They are uncontrollable in that we have little ability to contain or influence them directly. Organizations have their own versions of volcanic events--a product failure, the loss of a key employee, an economic recession. We often label these events as distractions, disruptions, or disasters.
In the midst of unwanted surprises, leaders and change agents often lose their calm and clarity. We get stuck in fight-flight-freeze mode. Have you experienced any of these typical reactions in the face of an oy vey moment?
- Lost your sense of humor
- Became fixated on what wasn't working
- Gave up completely
- Felt annoyed and resentful
- Looked for someone to blame
- Pretended it wasn't happening
It's natural to feel frustrated and confused by unwanted surprises. It's just not all that useful. Being stuck in self-protection blocks our access to our creative resourcefulness and delays resolution of the problem.
It's in oy vey moments that Peter Senge's notion of personal mastery becomes particularly important. He defines personal mastery as the discipline of continually clarifying and deepening our personal vision, of focusing our energies, of developing patience, and of seeing reality objectively.
Here are four practical ways in which you can put personal mastery into practice in an oy vey moment:
- Check-in: In the moment of breakdown, notice what you are feeling physically and emotionally. Simply notice without judgment (e.g., I am feeling angry and frustrated).
- Name It: Try to name the underlying thought, judgment, or belief that you are holding onto very tightly in this moment (e.g., I need to travel to Europe this week for an important meeting).
- Pause: Take some deep and conscious breaths. Refrain from taking action.
- Shift: Ask yourself some questions aimed at shifting you into a more productive mental, emotional, and physical state. Some of these questions include:
- What is my real purpose and who am I here to serve?
- What beliefs can I let go of right now in order to serve my highest purpose?
- What are the hidden gift and opportunities in this moment?
How do you recognize that you are developing greater personal mastery in the way you deal with the volcanic eruptions in your organization? Where others see disruption and disaster, you will increasingly see opportunity for creativity and breakthrough.
Larry Dressler is the founder of Blue Wing Consulting, LLC, and author of the recently released book, Standing in the Fire: Leading High-Heat Meetings with Clarity, Calm, and Courage (Berrett-Koehler Publishers/ASTD, 2010).
Volcano photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/latzenhofer/ / CC BY-SA 2.0
by Robert Fritz
In part I of this post, Robert used the example of a pottery class to make the case that the more you produce, the more mastery you will have in any given realm. Here, he addresses the question, "How does learning take place?"
We begin, as always, with structural tension, a clear vision of an end result and a clear view of the current reality in relationship to that result. This is essential, because without structural tension, you would be limited to a series of spontaneous improvisations.
Quantity without structural tension does not lead to comprehensive learning. Without an end in mind, you are left with a purely statistical approach: make a lot of things, hope that some of them work out. When that is the case, each creative event is random. Each event is an individual episode that does not connect with future creative events. This is like a non-relational database in which the information is isolated and does not connect with other bits of information. Therefore, there is no traction leading to momentum, no sense of development, no foundation upon which to build. No organizing principle that enables learning to lead to mastery.
One thing that the pottery students had was enough of a vision of each piece so that they could establish structural tension. They had their target. The current reality was under their fingers and in their awareness. This was true for both the quality and quantity group. So we can conclude that structural tension is simply a prerequisite. Without it, it would be hard to throw a pot. But if the vision were to produce the highest quality imaginable, the final result would miss the mark. Higher levels of quality come from adequate experience over time.
When I was a high school kid, I studied with the Boston Symphony clarinetist Felix Viscuglia at the New England Conservatory of 
Music. I would bring Phil a coffee (he insisted on everyone calling him Phil) to every weekly lesson, not unlike the proverbial apple to the teacher. He always talked to me as if I were a colleague rather than a student, which was kind of nice for me. He would say of the college students who studied with him, "How can they expect to play like me? I've been playing over 25 years." I would nod as if I knew what he was talking about. But I only realized what he meant after I had been playing for over 25 years.
There is a long-term view of the creative process, which includes experience over expanded periods of time and learning. And there is the short-term view, which tries to rely on inspiration, impulse, and improvisation. And while there is a place for short-term impulsive moments, you can't build and sustain real mastery from that alone.
So, make a lot of creations. Make sure you have structural tension as the framework. Don't get obsessed about how good any creation is, but do make a point of learning from each episode of the creative process. Mastery will come over time, and you will find your ability to create what you want increases dramatically.
©2010 Robert Fritz
What is your experience with the question of quality versus quantity in the creative process? Share your thoughts in the comments section.
Robert Fritz, a composer, filmmaker, and organizational consultant, is founder of Technologies For Creating® and author of the international bestseller The Path of Least Resistance. This post first appeared in his free monthly e-newsletter, Creating. Click here for more information about Robert and his work.
by Robert Fritz
In a now famous story, a pottery teacher divided his class into two groups. He told one group that their grade would be determined by the quality of their work no matter how many pieces they made. 
The second group would be measured not on the quality of their work, but on the quantity. The more pieces, the higher the grade.
At the end of the semester, the results were clear. The group that had made the most pieces also had produced the highest quality work. Ironically, those students who were directly focused on quality were less able to produce quality. How come?
What is the relationship between quantity and quality? Often, the more you produce, the more mastery you will have. Creative mastery comes in many levels. How you make critical decisions along with the ability to be decisive. How your mind understands the creative process as well as a type of visceral understanding that develops over time and experience. How free you are to make mistakes while increasing the sense of the right direction to take.
Learning allows you to move from one level of understanding and competence to a higher level. Usually there are mistakes to make. Usually the more demanding the learning, the more mistakes.
Quantity does not always lead to quality. If there isn't a learning dimension, nothing will change, and quality might even decline. But the most natural pattern when creating anything is a progression of mastery through a progression of learning. How does learning take place?
©2010 Robert Fritz
Click here for part II of Robert's article.
Robert Fritz, a composer, filmmaker, and organizational consultant, is founder of Technologies For Creating® and author of the international bestseller The Path of Least Resistance. This post first appeared in his free monthly e-newsletter, Creating. Click here for more information about Robert and his work.
"Making pottery" photo by Randy Oostdyk; used under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License.
By Chris Abbey
"Chris you have been selected to receive a 60-Day Warn Notice." In a matter of seconds, my perceptions of the world and myself had been seriously shaken. Everything seemed to close in around me.
Looking for guidance for moving forward, I turned to Meg Wheatley's book Finding Our Way: Leadership for an Uncertain Time. I was struck by her comment, "An organization's identity includes current interpretations of its history, present decisions and activities, and its sense of its future."
With the warn notice, my interpretation of history had narrowed considerably; I could only see myself in my current position. The "present decisions and actions" had severed my feelings of 
stability and my visions of the future. My sense of identity had large gaping holes in it. In the beginning, all I was looking for was what was missing.
Meg goes on to write, "Because identity is the sense-making capacity of an organization, every organizing effort--whether it be a startup of a team, a community project, or a nation--needs to begin by exploring and clarifying the intentions and desires of its members."
Over time, I noticed that my process of making sense of what had happened followed the grieving process. The seven-stage model of grief describes what I've been going through:
- Shock and denial
- Pain and guilt
- Anger and bargaining
- Depression, reflection, and loneliness
- The Upward Turn
- Reconstruction and working through
- Acceptance and hope
Within a short period of time, the wild emotional swings had subsided, and I had moved through to the fifth step. A new sense of identity started to surface--a changed identity, an identity that now incorporated the warn notice. This new self was uncomfortable--it felt as though my skin didn't quite fit--but I began to adjust to it.
At this point, I could commence exploring new activities in earnest, because a new impression of the future had also started to emerge--not a clear impression, just an impression. Before, I had gone through the motions of looking for a job, but really just to avoid dealing with the pain by keeping the mind and body busy. Now, I approached the task with purpose and direction.
My narrow recollection of my history expanded beyond my current employment to include the fullness of my life. I shifted my perspective on my present decisions and activities from what my employer was doing "to me" to what I was doing to find another job. My activities became part of a coherent plan to transition myself into a new future, a future, while still uncertain, in which I am in the driver's seat. Though still cycling through the seven steps of the grief model--you may find me anywhere in the model at any particular time--I am spending more and more time in step seven.
The activities include the usual: updating my resume, preparing for interviews, and searching the job listings. In addition, I'm using systems thinking perspectives to focus on relationships, including taking stock of my "system" or network, creating new network connections, and disturbing the system. I'll reflect on these efforts in part 2.
Chris Abbey is responsible for bringing about the education, engagement, and empowerment of employees in a global information technology organization, enabling them to continuously improve their products and services. His work involves coaching, mentoring, and training in various hard and soft skills, such as High Performance Work Teams, Lean, Systems Thinking, Theory of Constraints, and trust building. One of his current passions is in the use and building of communities of practice as a way to greatly increase sharing and collaboration in complex organizations.
Mirror photo by Ian Britton/freefoto.com
By Janice Molloy
"When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid." --Audre Lorde
In his recent blog post, "Setting the Foundations for Leadership," my colleague Mark Alpert talked about the importance of articulating a vision. Unless we know what we really want to create, it's difficult to design a path to get there. But s
ometimes the gap between our current reality and vision can seem more like a yawning chasm than a hairline crack in the pavement. That's when it can be useful to outline the incremental steps we can take in service of our overarching goal.
Edie Farwell, Program Director of the Sustainability Institute's Donella Meadows Leadership Fellows New Initiatives, has designed a visioning activity that can help bridge the gap between short-term initiatives and long-term aspirations. At the start of the program's recent alumni workshop, Edie had participants identify their:
- Big "V" Vision: Your dreams, what you want, how you want to be, how you want to orient yourself for the next three to five years
- Middle "V" Vision: What you want to experiment with in the next few months in service of your big "V" vision
- Little "v" Vision: Something you will do next week to support your big "V" vision
Each participant then shared his or her nested visions with a partner. One Fellow wants to finance and build a 40-megawatt industrial wind farm in Michigan (Big V). In the next several months, he plans to leverage his past work to form relationships with key partners in finance (Middle V). Within the next week, he will approach a specific construction company and get them to help sponsor the project (Little v). Another Fellow envisions sustainable agriculture in her region (Big V). To contribute to this process, she will establish a training program at her farm for young farmers (Middle V). In the short term, she will start taking in more young farmers now (Little v).
Building Momentum in Your Setting
If you want to do this exercise on your own, find a quiet setting where you won't be interrupted by emails and phone calls for at least 30 minutes. Bring a journal with you to record your thoughts. You may also want to arrange to share the outcomes with a learning partner, to build shared accountability. To keep momentum going, revisit your Little "v" Vision weekly, your Middle "V" Vision quarterly, and your Big "V" Vision annually.
In using this activity with a group, schedule about an hour. Edie introduces the process and then has people relax with their eyes closed as they evoke a detailed picture in their minds of each of the three visions. Participants then journal for 15 minutes. At the alumni workshop, people discussed their visions with partners over lunch. Some of them chose to report back to the group as a whole.
What can we create if, in the words of Audre Lorde, we all "dare to be powerful"? Try this exercise, and let's find out!
Janice Molloy is content director of Pegasus Communications, managing editor of The Systems Thinker newsletter, and program director of the annual Systems Thinking in Action conference.
Photo of Grand Canyon: Mike Quinn/National Park Service