It’s a humbling moment to see my life, work, and sense of hope condensed to 14 minutes and a small circle of red carpet on a stage in Santa Cruz. I invite you to take a look at my talk, “The Future? Yes…And. Business As a Force for Change.”
Call it Capitalism 2.0. Call it “post-capitalism.” Whatever you call the future of commerce, it will be driven by purpose. I believe in the power of business as a platform for disruption and mobilization to help customers, investors, communities, and employees create a regenerative and equitable world.
According to Brene Brown, our level of belonging requires times when we are willing to stand up and be our most authentic self, even if that means saying the hard thing, and being willing to be the lone wolf setting a new path or clarifying a truth. It takes a wild heart, a Yes-& heart — tough and tender, brave and vulnerable. One that requires us to, sometimes, stand alone.
“True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness. True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.” This is based in a spiritual practice or belief that we are all connected. In her new book, Braving the Wilderness, she takes her work on vulnerability and shows us how we need openness — and each other — in order to cultivate true belonging in our communities, organizations, and culture.
As we look at our world today, we keep defaulting to information, activities, entertainment and even live/work choices that keep isolating us from each other — especially those who are the least like us. Research continually demonstrates how much we self-select our own echo-chambers of like-minded people, continuously sorting ourselves into neighborhoods and work that match our own world view I get this. I live in Santa Cruz CA, work for an agency that is centered on purpose and spend my days helping corporations find, live and tell their purpose-beyond-profit, their contribution to society. Many of these companies are waking up to the reality that the world is literally on fire and all of us have a collective responsibility to action.
Which puts visionary executives and consultants in a lonely place of being the voice in the room that speaks for something other than profit. For saying the hard truth about the need to step up even further. To be bold in setting a course that accepts responsibility for the creative destruction needed to reinvent a business line or manufacturing process.
I am still surprised when I find a person inside the corporation who sees the world the way I do. Who really gets that we are at a significant crossroads and all of us need to be all in. It makes me feel less alone in the work.
According to Sebastian Junger in his book, Tribe, we have lost our connection to the deep truth about who we are as a species — tribal. We’re now living in a culture with values that are antithetical to who we really are as members of the human tribe. In reality, humans have survived as a species precisely because, and especially in times or grave danger, we have valued cooperation rather than competition, affinity rather than alienation, and a spirit of sharing rather than one of rugged individualism.
I believe that we are seeing the rise of this realization, as part of the rise of the feminine. The rise of cooperation and collaboration. Of creativity. As we face the challenge of strong-man regimes, climate chaos, the diaspora of displaced environmental refugees, we will need our tribal connection — one that is true across the entire globe and not isolated in countries or villages — to come together with and for each other.
On December 9, 2019, I took to the Rio Theater stage at TEDxSantaCruz for my first ever TED talk., in the third act of The Art of Hope. In the past, I’ve presented at conferences, moderated panels and pitched enough new business in front of large gatherings of executives, to assume I was ready. for this.
The thing about a TED talk is that it requires two things that were new to me. The first is that you have to memorize your entire speech. No talk track, no copy points on the slides to guide your speech. Nothing. Just you and a few slides and 16 minutes of memorized narrative that flows, arcs, and delivers an emotional connection to the audience. I hadn’t memorized anything since Edgar Allen Poe’s El Dorado poem in fourth grade.
The second aspect of a TED talk is that this must be a personal story connected to your own idea or insight. This is not about some other company, concept, or trend that I am accustomed to synthesizing and presenting. The good TED talks start with a personal anecdote or moment in time that gives the presenter the ability to see something new or come to a fresh perspective that then leads to a greater body of work. I almost never share my personal story in a public setting. And there I was, on stage and live streaming telling everyone my coming out story.
Throughout my career, I’ve done lots of public speaking on communications and storytelling, and the arc needed to reach people when you’re trying to sell an idea or product. I’ve presented on trends emerging around climate chaos and social change and how we need our stories to include emotion and authenticity about the challenges we face as a society. But my story is never included. I’ve just never been comfortable saying much about me — I’d rather lead with someone else’s anecdote, some pithy quote sourced from a recognizable name, facts and figures that encapsulate the trend I am portraying.
But this talk — thanks to my friend and TEDx licensee and curator Irene Tsouprake — pulled something more from me. She helped me dig into my own journey and link what I know to be true to the overarching reality that I am seeing in the world today.
What I understood was how my own marginalization when I can out in my mid thirties gave me the gift of insights. I saw the systems and institutions that I had sort of taken for granted — like marriage and a heteronormative workplace — for the false social constructs they really are. I became a non-binary thinker. That’s what I’ve meant all these years when I say that Yes-& is my life philosophy and the ampersand my favorite symbol.
This ability to be outside of the system and see the truth about what is broken is going to be an important attribute as we look at all of the instututions and structures that need reinventing. From commerce to culture, we are seeing that our assumptions about how the world works are being challenged.
This YES-&, non-binary way of thinking is emerging everywhere. And I can see it because when I came out, I finally understood how I could hold my own masculine and feminine expression inside myself rather than see it as an external gendered reality. Once I experienced the truth of that experience, it opened my eyes and I saw how all of reality is on a spectrum. Once we stop organizing into the binary, as hierarchical structures, we are free to explore and participate in systems thinking. And that gives us the space we need to reimagine a different world.
The greatest gift of my TED talk is the freedom I now feel to bring my whole self into my work and allow it to guide my insights in helping accelerate the great transition that is underway everywhere.
My friend “>Renee Lertzmanhas been studying the psychology of the environment and climate change for more than 20 years. She tells us that we need to establish a way of acknowledging and making space for what we are feeling, not just what we know about the climate crisis. In this time of increasingly stark reports about the global climate, Lertzman believes it is important to develop a literacy when it comes to how we are feeling or responding to our climate crisis and to environmental threats.
In fact, as you look back over the last 20 years, we have seen the language and terminology shift and change. First, it was global warming, then climate change, and now we are seeing the rise of climate chaos and climate crisis as how we frame the reality of catastrophic weather events, species decline, and the environmental diaspora of those most affected. Words matter. So do feelings. Renee’s work is specifically about how important it is as communicators to create the space within our work so that humanity can express feelings of anxiety or ambivalence before we turn to the creativity and innovation needed to mobilize and change the direction we are headed.
A beautiful piece in Ecowatch by Erika Spanger-Siegfried expresses beautifully how to move from anxiety and despair to hope – because in the end, hope is rooted in love. “However poorly we tend it, however fragile we think it, this hope thing will not-really, cannot-quit. We might feel anguish, but despair just won’t stick because it’s not over. Maybe it’s an evolutionary impulse to save our own skin and our loved ones’; to quote a friend, ‘Hope is a discipline for survival.’ But I’ll call it love. I’m not sure they’re different. And therein lies hope’s unstoppable power: if you love-anything-you hope.”
I think love’s hope is behind Extinction Revolution and the climate marches, and all the action we are seeing in the world. From Gen Alpha to Boomers, people are starting to act. And there are signs that we are making progress. This April, for the first time ever, renewable energy supplied more power to America’s grid than coal-the clearest sign yet that solar and wind can now go head-to-head with fossil fuels. In two-thirds of the world, they’ve become the cheapest forms of power. Solar and wind will power half the globe by 2050, based on Bloomberg forecasts.
Two-thirds of Americans believe climate change is either a crisis or a serious problem, with a majority wanting immediate action to address global heating and its damaging consequences. “Americans are finally beginning waking up to the existential threat that the climate emergency poses to our society,” said Margaret Klein Salamon, a clinical psychologist and founder of the Climate Mobilization Project which fielded the recent polling. “This is huge progress for our movement – and it’s young people that have been primarily responsible for that.”
Isn’t it interesting that some of the sharpest minds in the climate dialogue are psychologists and behaviorists? Because the facts are clear. An emotional, soul-level response to this data is what’s needed next. What activists are showing us is the authentic expression of rage, sorrow, disbelief, anxiety and….. in the end, hope. Just follow Greta Thurnberg on Instagram – she is the personification of the emotional and intellectual response to the climate crisis. As she winds her way across North America, you can see the full range of human emotions on her face as she speaks at the UNGA or sits in stoic solidarity every Friday for the climate strikes. Her later visit to an animal sanctuary clearly evokes love and hope if the smile on her face is any clue.
According to Gen Z research recently release by Porter Novelli (my place of employment), this place of hope and love is the power behind the new generation of activism we see all around us. They’re tired of the divisive narrative that has taken over the national news — 94 percent of Generation Z believes our country needs to come together to make progress on important issues. In fact, 85 percent would rather focus on the positive progress we’ve made rather than the negative.
Because it is the power of hope, based in love, that drives all of us to keep trying. It will take all of us, everywhere, trying everything, if we are going to create the world we want.
November is one of my favorite months. We will set our clocks back this Sunday night, getting the gift of an extra hour. A repeat of sixty minutes, arbitrarily decreed, for the express purpose of making early mornings lighter even as the days grow shorter. Since I am an early morning runner, I very much appreciate the light in the morning. It’s always hard to get up early and lace up for four, five, or more miles several times a week. Harder still to face when it’s cold AND dark. I’ll take these little mercies wherever I can get them.
The other November gift is that we are truly into fall. Pumpkins everywhere, now unrelated to Halloween and scary carvings, but omnipresent because of their beauty and flavor. Pies, bread, savory curries and even lattes are better with pumpkins. We get to bundle into sweaters and jackets, boots and wool socks, scarves and beanies. It’s all new again, this fall wardrobe and we’re nestling into the hygge of it all. Coziness, cuddling, contemplation, slowing down.
Fall is a transition season, moving us from the busyness of summer activities, and its long lit days that are filled with work and travel, parties and gathering, sports and games. We’ve stayed up late and wrung every moment out of the longer summer days. We are now reminded that winter is coming. I like to revel in the crisp fall air and begin to think about what indoor creative projects I want to accomplish. It’s also when I begin to look back at my January commitments and see how I’ve done and if they still resonate or are important for my life.. as it is right now. I start preparing to be more quiet and embrace more stillness in my life.
November also brings us the national holiday of gratitude — Thanksgiving. While I no longer display pilgrims and indians as decorative mascots for the mythology of an imagined Plymouth gathering, I share humanity’s longstanding instinct to celebrate and express gratitude for the harvest.
Abraham Lincoln declared Thanksgiving a national holiday in 1863, during the American Civil War. Lincoln proclaimed a national day of “Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens,” to be celebrated on the last Thursday in November. Deciding to establish a national day of gratitude in the midst of chaos and crisis is an apt example for our times. Whatever we believe in, I suspect that gratitude in-the-midst is a universal human longing.
I am hopeful that we can all find common ground in thankfulness. As we all suffer the consequences of climate chaos, societal fraying, uncivil discourse, and political upheaval, I’m choosing to stand in gratitude. For firefighters and health workers, for poll watchers and first responders, for mothers and nurses, for candidates and protesters. We belong to one another and I am grateful for each and every one of us.
It’s easy to forget that the only thing required of us is to show up as ourselves.
We buy into the story that we are never enough or that constant improvement and a sense of lack challenge us and how we want life to go. Yet when we stop, settle into ourselves and listen to the quiet voice inside, we are reminded that each of us is the unique expression of our self that the world needs, right now, in this moment.
The reminders of this truth are all around me. In meditation — which I try to do each morning (still working on that )– I was reminded that grace and gratitude are linked. I’m listening to a 21-day series from Oprah and Deepak and it is just what I need to hear. The visualization of myself as a candle, placed outside and bathed in sunlight to the point that I vanish and become absorbed into the light, reminds me to simply be. Be my truest, most authentic self. Then I can remember that I am part of a greater truth, a bigger reality that is the beauty of all creation. My light is contained within a bigger light.
Last night I watched the Netflix documentary, “Knock Down the House” which followed the 2018 campaigns of four women who stepped into the fray and accepted the pull of the moment to show up. Of the four, one won and three lost: Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York, Amy Vilela of Nevada, Cori Bush of Missouri, and Paula Jean Swearengin of West Virginia. As I watched these four women consider who they are, whether they were ready to run a race, grapple with the realities of campaigning, and dealing with the significant push-back they received, I was inspired by their courage and respect their determination to be themselves.
There is so much change, turmoil and conflict all around us right now. It’s easy to become overwhelmed and discouraged and wonder how we are going to be okay in the midst of it all. Just breathe. Be still. And then be grateful for exactly who you are. Because the world needs each of us to show up exactly as who we are. Together, we are one big light.
I’ve been in the corporate social responsibility (CSR) and sustainability for the last eleven years. The pace of change in the last year has been astonishing. While we’ve moved from climate change being the phrase-that-shall-not-be-named in the early days to it now being included in business risk analyses and an integral part of CDP and GRI reporting, the change that is the most significant is the expectation that brands and CEOs take a stand on social issues.