As I’m getting around to meet people here in London for the first time, I’m finding the best conversations simply defy memory. Or maybe mutuality defies memory.
It has been my habit, ability, or perhaps my failure, to walk away from conversations with a fairly detailed mental rendering of where we went and how we got there. Lately, however, I’ve been taking this time of meeting a number of new people, with little real agenda, to practice listening differently.
I’m paying more attention to where attention goes. Refining the pulsation between me and you. Coming back more often to check if I’m sitting in easy alignment. Pulsing too between personal interests and income opportunities, histories and plans, brain and base. Letting all of these things inform all the rest.
Sometimes I notice that I’m doing it all quite well, and other times I notice that I’m way off. I hope I’m noticing sooner than I used to. Along the way, I’ve been amazed at what I’m not able to recall, at least in words, at the close of these conversations. I get thrown off by moments of not knowing where we’ve been or might go, and then a path appears. We go on. The shape of all things just keeps unfolding.
Today’s conversation was with Andy Borrows, at the Crypt Cafe, beneath St. Martin-in-the-Fields parish, off Trafalgar Square. The sign upstairs on the church door declares it as “…a place of worship… a business… [and] a care organization…” What better place to have a mutuality conversation?
And true to my story, I can hardly remember where more than three hours went, but I did come away with real things to do next. Most exciting, we’ll be working together, with Chris Corrigan, on Chris’ chapter of the 100bloggers book project. And Andy’s got a headful of Open Space to fish around in with colleagues back at work. Looking forward to another round, too.
UPDATE: Andy’s version
hey, that flow between listening in and listening out, to pulsation and alignment, an unfolding path, sounds a lot like dancing! or singing together.
what a wide, swift, deep river of conversation that must have been between the two of you! I like that image of remembering “the shape of all things” and not so much the details that created the shape. and it’s always interesting to see how those new shapes we make then fit into the shapes we’ve got already–sometimes they notch in perfectly, sometimes we have to toss an old one out to give space…
love,
will look forward to your posting andy! …and hello christy!
i notice this morning, walking around town a bit… that it’s possible in any one moment, maybe even necessary, to choose to come from knowing what is going on or from not knowing. mostly i think it’s a habit and a preference to assume we know. but there is a choice. the option to relax the mind, let go of the shape(s) that are usually held, well-known, is always there, and necessary (i think) for the new.
Your description and recollection mirrors mine exactly, Michael! Even down to the noticing where attention is going. I like your pulsation turn of phrase; something I notice is the cyclical movement between outward and inward attention; true listening and engagement with what the other is saying, balanced by an awareness of the response that engenders within me (often one of learning).
And like you, I have difficulty remembering the flow – although there were several things that I jotted down afterwards (and will blog about tomorrow) that had both meaning and current significance for me.
And the book! I just checked Jon Strande’s site and was gobsmacked to find my name already there. So it wasn’t all a dream…