It's all there within the first few minutes.
You get clues about the overall process from the way a person enters the room, the tone of their voice, and the first few things they say, these signals are dream-doors.
If you pay attention and follow the process, it will show you the way.
After speaking the teacher sat back in her chair. To her left stood a whiteboard, and behind it was a wall of windows.
I am sitting in a circle with 12 other students at the Process Work Institute, a small, unassuming building on a side street in Northwest, Portland, Oregon.
The teacher shared a few examples of how this phenomenon could manifest. I listened to her words but noticed my mind was still turning over what she had just said. Something can already be there before it actually happens, I thought to myself. This idea felt profound, and it made sense at a fundamental level. I thought about foreshadowing in books and films and how the plot offers the reader or viewer clues about what awaits them.
I looked out the window. As I reflected on my teacher's words I gazed at the vast blue sky. A sense of mystery and possibility moved through me, I felt something was awaiting me but I was sure what it was just yet.
I was just setting out on the journey of my Masters degree. I had left the East Coast of the USA and moved to Portland, Oregon to pursue my studies in process-oriented psychology. This path had unfolded before me through a series of synchronistic events.
Eleven years later, this notion that clues about the future are embedded in our current experience has stayed with me. The process; the ongoing flow of information that moves within and around us, can show us the way.
In time, I learned that the process wouldn't always show me the way in terms I was used to; the signals and cues that arose within me, the person I was with or even through my environment weren't always literal or obvious. Often, they were symbolic, metaphorical, or representing something archetypal in nature. Adjusting a picture hanging crooked on the wall or letting out a deep sigh could point to a larger theme or pattern. Maybe the person was trying to even things out in their life or let go of something they'd be carrying for too long.
The future is speaking to us through the medium of the present moment.
This past month, my path took me into the territory of the future, not just as what is ahead of us both individually and collectively, but as the body of work that looks at how we engage with the future, often referred to as foresight.
My colleague Carri Munn, one of the co-founders of our new initiative, Circle Generation, and I have been working on a podcast that explores the intersections between network practice, systems change, futures and foresight. As part of the podcast, we've had the opportunity to have conversations with practitioners from around the world whose work focuses on futures and the practice of foresight.
They described foresight as a way of engaging our anticipatory capacity, the ability to sense into what may come into being, and imagine a variety of futures. They spoke about the importance of engaging in conversations about the future with people of different ages and walks of life. Cat Tully, the Managing Director of the School of International Futures, who we speak to in episode 4, describes this as a process of democratising the future.
By engaging with possibilities of what could come into being, and noticing potential challenges, the future offers a space where many people can step into their leadership. Instead of leaving the future to those in power, we all can play a role in shaping it together.
The more I learned about the practice of foresight, the more creative it felt. I also began to sense that engaging with foresight is not only a practice but a disposition, a foundational stance and orientation from which to engage with the world. Anthropologist Tim Ingold describes how, as humans our lives are shaped by the future: The lives of humans are temporally stretched, between the already and the not yet. (2017, p. 19)1.
He hints at the possibility that our very nature of being spans time. We are always leaning into what may happen. He describes time not just as a chronological line, but as a braid which weaves past, present and future2. In this sense all are interwoven and present simultaneously.
Hearing practitioners speak about foresight as a practice and reflecting on Ingold's work has left me thinking about how we can engage with the future on an ongoing basis rather than in short bursts as a kind of exercise we work through with our clients whether that be in the context of coaching, therapy, facilitation or consulting.
Looking back at the trajectory of my life, I can see how the future spoke to me 11 years ago through my teacher's words and the sensory input that captivated my attention at that moment. These experiences primed me to recognise the future when it flowed into my present. I felt anticipation for my future and the possibility of engaging with the future as a collective practice.
The future is a space we can engage in, allowing us to imagine, shape, and co-create what we long for, even if it has yet to manifest.
What clues are arising in your life that might be whispers from the future?
What I’m Reading
This article explores how we can go about moving toward something in a way that is in tune with our environment, those around us and our ancestors. Spiller frames it as strategy, however the application extends beyond this to any process of working with others or planning.
She draws upon her Mauri culture to describe an approach which she describes as ‘wayfinding’. The approach encompasses six different orientations which guide how an individual can engage in moving toward their destination. One of these orientations she calls ‘dwelling dynamically’; a way of engaging with one's surroundings through all five senses rather than relying on maps or abstractions of where we think we are or should be.
In speaking about time, Spiller draws upon the notion of the eternal present, which she describes as reaching forward into the past, highlighting how in Mauri culture the past informs the present and shapes the future.
She cites one of her teachers who describes how: The ‘‘eternal present’’ links ancestors and events of the past with people today [situating us] in an understanding of a greater reality”. She proposes that by engaging the possibility that the present holds the past and future can open us up to relate to life and the universe as an ever-unfolding flow, rather that a series of static events.
What I’m Listening to:
The Choreography of Neurodiversity: A conversation with Erin Manning on For the Wild
I came across Erin Manning through Tim Ingold's work. She is a Canadian philosopher based in Montreal who teaches at Concordia University (I always get excited when I discover a newer philosopher, especially one who is a woman).
In this podcast interview, Manning suggests that neurodiversity describes the many ways we can encounter the world. She challenges the notion of being neurotypical, suggesting that we are all trained to express ourselves in a certain choreography of 'normalcy' that we either fit into with ease or fall out of because it doesn't align with our nature.
Manning explains that by inhabiting our unique nature rather than trying to fit into norms, we become able to engage with the natural world without a sense of separability. This approach aligns our bodies with the world, fundamentally transforming our relationship with the environment.
Manning also raises a thought-provoking question: Are we trapped in a logic that devalues the questions we ask? She suggests that some of our inherited logic and mindsets may subtly undermine the questions and ways of being that are most important to us. She invites us to critically examine our assumptions and beliefs, fostering a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.
Listen to the Alive & Learning Podcast!
On August 8th, Circle Generation, the new organisation I’ve started alongside Carri Munn and Nono Sekhoto, will be releasing our first episode of Alive & Learning, a podcast that explores the intersections between network practice, systems change and futures and foresight.
In essence it's a series of conversations with practitioners around the world who are involved in collaborative work addressing global challenges. Being a part of this podcast has been deeply inspiring. Hearing stories from around the world of profound work that is happening has filled me with hope.
August 22nd, 3:30-5:30 pm PDT// August 23rd, 8:30-10:30 amAEST
Join me for a 2-hour session focused on engaging a process-oriented approach to working with others.
The session includes an inner work, a live piece of work, me working with someone to explore a question, challenge, dream, body symptom or relationship that is present for them, a debrief, where we inquire into the process structure and core themes together and time to practice.
There are still three spots left. Please note that this will be the last Works in the Centre until 2025. Learn more and register here
Ingold, T. (2017). To Human is a Verb. In K. M. Cahill, M. Gustafsson & T. Schwarz Wentzer, (Eds.), Finite but Unbounded: New Approaches in Philosophical Anthropology (pp. 9-23). Berlin/Boston: de Gruyter.
Ingold, T. (2022) On Not Knowing and Paying Attention: How to Walk in a Possible World. Irish Journal of Sociology [online]. 31(1). pp. 20–36..