I recently spent an autumn morning taking in the fall colors and letting my mind wander--luxuries these days. I was thinking about what organizations have taught me about change, growth, and transformation--in their organizational culture, their decision-making or strategy, and their work in the world.
I'm often asked whether there is a predictable roadmap for transformational change; the answer, in my experience, is no. But there are some fairly predictable ways that human beings respond to the process of transformation, and those responses can be sources of deep wisdom as you move through uncertain moments in your organization's life cycle.
When it comes to change, some of us are early enthusiasts; we are eager to get going and sometimes feel that we are heaving our organizations and colleagues along behind us.
We early change enthusiasts can become frustrated and burnt out; we can rush when it's important to go slowly, skip critical steps, and be dismissive of resistance. But we can also be great leaders and peer supporters, contribute positive momentum and energy, and act as inspired agitators for moving on when the work gets stuck.
Some of us give up early on; the vision being sought doesn't feel quite right, or we aren't comfortable with the turbulence, or we are in a place in our lives where this kind of energy is difficult to exert.
If we cut bait and move on to other things, it can mean that we know ourselves and are not going to force the organization to drag us against our will into a vision we don't share. If we stay, we can be a meaningful contributor to dialogue, a conduit for exploring what to keep in the organization even as we pursue change, and a helpful source of organizational history and context.
Some of us fight the change for dear life. We can't let go of the old and we can't jump into the new. We're tired, or scared, or don't feel suited for a new role, new skills, new methods. We can be a drag on the whole system, and slow some colleagues down with us. If we are treated poorly because of our perspective, we can undermine, stall, subvert, or openly defy. If our perspective is welcomed, we can also offer needed tension, a useful reason to pause and reflect, a brake that ensures that we don't rush, an alternative perspective, and generative conflict.
Some of us see a clear path, while others see chaos and confusion. The tension between those of us who live in the "grey" and those of us who prefer sharp linear contrast can be uncomfortable. When that tension is seen as a problem, it grows and often causes breakdowns. When it is recognized, named, and openly discussed, we can show each other what each of us see, and in so doing, add richness, color, and light to the discussion.
What's always amazing to me is how all of these natural human responses to change can be at work simultaneously--how many truths can exist at once. The magic is not in getting everyone to see and behave in the same way--it's in finding a way for the differences and variations to generate what feels right and true for the organization's next iteration. For those who've invited me along for some or all of the journey: Thank you. For those who might need a helping hand, I'd love to be one. In any case, I hope you all are able to find a moment to take in the glory of fall leaves--and may we all breathe easier come November 4th.
A special shout-out goes to the Red Oak, Maple, Quaking Poplar, Tamarack, and Birch of Mud Bay on Big Bearskin Lake, who inspired this post.