Creating circles of Active Hope: Pt I

A community-centred approach to moving through dark times.

9 min readApr 26, 2020

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Orange fungi on black wood | Credit: Manuela Kohl (via Pexels) — Photo credit: Manuela Kohl (via Pexels)

“I pin my hopes to quiet processes and small circles, in which vital and transforming events take place.” ~ Quaker Mystic Rufus Jones (1863–1948)

Earlier this year, in the wake of Australia’s catastrophic ‘Black Summer’, I held a series of Active Hope talking-circles across Sydney. The circles were offered as a form of ‘community triage’: a gently-facilitated space for people to gather and acknowledge the weight of their feelings in response to the bushfires*.

Just as communities for millennia have gathered to mourn the loss of something or someone they love, my hope was that by allowing the complex range of emotions we feel in grief to surface in a communal, facilitated space, it might just help us to get up and get on with life again: together.

This is the story of how these circles came about, who attended and the impact they’ve had (so far). In Part II, I share more detail about the design of the circle, the series of activities I used to move us through. (geared toward fellow facilitators and convenors).

Tree in a crystal ball (macro) | Credit Pixabay (via Pexels) — Image credit: Pixabay (via Pexels)

How do we ‘human’ in these times?

The talking-circles were inspired by the work of Joanna Macy, Meg Wheatley, Parker Palmer, Otto Scharmer and others. I borrowed the title from the book of the same name, (‘Active Hope: How to Face the Mess We’re in without Going Crazy’) by Joanna Macy and Chris Johnstone.

I was fortunate to train with Chris at Schumacher College in September on course called, ‘Resilience for me, you and us’, and two concepts stuck with me:

hope is an attitude that is reinforced by our actions, and
resilience is a force of life that happens through us.

“Hope is a verb with its sleeves rolled up.” David Orr, Bioneers Conference, 2019

In as much as I convened the circles to support community amid the collective trauma of the bushfires, on a personal level, rolling up my sleeves to bring people together renewed my own sense of direction and purpose at precisely the time it threatened to abandon me completely.

This is the enduring premise of Active Hope: in dark times, our mission must be to create hope with our actions.

Stepping into circle

In the past 18 months, I have sat in circle with change-makers and thought-leaders from all corners of the world, who share deep concern about the scale of the converging challenges ahead and are determined to play their part in helping their communities avoid or adapt to the worst effects of them.

Sitting in circle with people from many different backgrounds, I truly witnessed the power of community in transmuting stuck thoughts and emotions into constructive, collective action.

Moreover, it occurred to me that we urgently need to create more spaces like this within our own communities if we have any hope of navigating the impacts of coming disasters with our humanity still in tact.

Facing the mess we’re in without going crazy

The first two circles brought together almost 40 people who have dedicated their lives to taking decisive action on the issues that matter to them. They included marine biologists, national park rangers, community leaders, council workers and communications experts — we even had a prominent vermiculturist (aka a worm expert).

Some had been in the direct path of the fires, with all the terror and relief — even guilt — that their fortunate escape provoked. Every one of us had experienced the unrelenting heat and smoke. And, while most didn’t know one another, all shared a profound sense of loss: of life, security and of optimism for the future.

Reasons people gave for attending included:

“Overwhelmed by the state of the planet.”
“Seeking support and connection with like-minded community.”
“Craving space to connect, reflect, and feel the pain collectively.”
“To see if it was a place where I could deal with my grief of loss.”
“To support and be supported.”

In dark times, all of us have moments in which we struggle to make sense of the ‘mess we’re in’. Joanna Macy writes about it. Mark Manson writes about it. You and I have experienced it. Our usual sense of perspective becomes dwarfed by the intensity of our felt-experience.

What helps is knowing we are not alone. What heals is having our experience witnessed by another: being seen, heard and acknowledged.

“When a group comes together to seek healing, that in and of itself IS the healing.” ~ John Seed, Rainforest Activist

Active Hope circle — Northern Beaches, Feb 2020 (credit Harriet Spark, Grumpy Turtle)

The transformative power of deep listening

As a ‘humanity-centric’ researcher and designer, I have spent a large part of my career asking people, from all walks of life, how they think and feel about the things that affect them: witnessing, holding and responding to intensely personal accounts of significant moments in a stranger’s life. In doing so, again and again I have experienced the transformative power of listening.

Deep listening creates a kind of alchemical reaction. Each time we genuinely ask a person about their experience and hold space for their full and authentic response, we generate the potential to transform both their relationship to that experience, and our relationship with them. (This is evidenced in the continued practice of talking- and healing-circles over millennia by First Nations peoples across the world.)

The theory is as simple as it is complex. We crave connection. And in order to feel connected, first we need to feel heard.

Trapped in a world of emotion

Whether we are ready to admit it or not we live in a world of emotion. It colours every memory, interaction and decision in our lives. Yet, there are precious few spaces outside of a therapist’s clinic, AA-meeting or even a pub, where it’s socially acceptable to reveal how we really feel about the things that affect us.

Even if we do feel ready to open up, how much we share of our inner world is dictated by how genuinely and generously another can listen. In such chaotic times as these, there are precious few who possess both the bandwidth and the practised capacity to listen in a way that is genuinely generative and helpful: that is, by helping us to relate to our feelings without trying to fix or soothe.

But, the crux is: if we can’t talk about what we feel, we can’t fully engage with our emotions. And, if we can’t fully engage, one of two things usually happens:

we bury our emotion and pretend it isn’t happening to stop the ‘uncomfortable’ feelings (ie. absencing), which can lead to shame, or worse: apathy; OR
we get stuck in a negative feedback loop, cycling between anxiety, rage and despair.

Either option can have destructive consequences for both our inner- and outer-worlds. Firstly, by affecting our capacity for connection and generative listening, qualities that help us find a way out of the mess. And secondly, by compromising our ability to act in our long-term interests, or in some cases, even to act at all.

‘The 4 Levels of Listening & Conversing’ by Otto Scharmer & the Presencing Institute. Take close look at the diagram above. Think about recent conversations you’ve had. Where do you tend to listen from? How’s that working for you? (More on listening here)

In offering a ‘community triage’ space then, my intention was that those who felt compelled to come would leave the circle feeling not only lighter, but supported by a community of care and, as such, more capable of taking creative, positive action for themselves and their communities.

(Joanna Macy talks about tending to our feelings as being a way to ‘unblock feedback loops’, inviting us to trust our own experience and speak the truth of what we see, feel and know is happening in our world.)

So, did it work?

In short, yes.

The release was palpable as the group moved from stuckness, anxiety and overwhelm to regain a sense of lightness and connection. For most, this shift came relatively early on in the session.

“Sometimes we just need to hear “I know I feel it too. I don’t know what to do either.” ~ Matt Wicking: facilitator, MC, artist, and activist

As participants shared the reasons for attending, emotions that had been choked down in order to keep functioning at home and work came to the surface. The magic of a held communal space is that, rather than falling apart (a very real fear most of us hold), attending to difficult emotions and having them authentically witnessed by others, means they lose the power they hold over us.

“When we deny our feelings, they don’t go away, they double down and metastasise. They invite shame over to the party. Empathy is the antidote to shame. Empathy breeds empathy. It’s not finite.” ~ Brene Brown, ‘Permission to Feel’

What was also beautiful to see was that no-one wanted to break the circle, even after it closed. Most stayed on, chatting and laughing for hours afterwards, keen to keep the connection going.

“I felt so much lighter, joyful, inspired, hopeful and connected. I was very pleasantly surprised by how close I felt to people after only a short couple of hours of sharing.”
“I left with more energy than I arrived with. This surprised me, usually in groups I feel drained but the energy was very inclusive and uplifting.”
“I felt buoyant. I woke up the next day feeling peaceful and happy….for the first time in 2020.”
“It gave me hope again.”
“I felt re-inspired to act”

(Feedback from Active Hope circle participants, Sydney 2020)

“When we leave a circle of trust, we return to the workplace — or any other arena of life — better able to engage it in life-giving ways. The inner work we have done in that circle reminds us that we are constantly co-creating the world, so we need not be victims of it.” ~ Parker Palmer

(Little did any of us know that, just 2.5 months later, our worlds would be thrown into chaos yet again with COVID-19. This work of weaving community and working through difficult circumstances, seems more vital than ever right now. So, in the last few weeks I’ve been adapting and trialling virtual circles of ‘Active Hope’ for ReUnion’s transition accelerator: RiseUP, and the Australian Social Enterprise community.)

In Part II, I’ll share more details about the process, the methods and activities I used and why I chose them, including nature-connection, meditation, guided conversation and other techniques I’ve picked up along the way. Read Part II now.

If you’d like to know how to facilitate healthy group process, or discover how I can help your community / team find the heart to do ‘good’ better, please get in touch.

Huge thanks to Laura Hamilton O’Hara, Sara Rickards, Mikey Leung and Chris Johnstone for their continued support in developing the circles and taking them to a wider audience. And to Ash Buchanan and Carmen Hawker for casting their finely attuned, editorial eye over my first Medium article.

*the circles were offered by donation. They raised over $500 AUD for Julie Moore who lost her farm and livestock in the fires. One of the participants met Julie while seeking shelter at the Narooma evacuation centre, and the group nominated her to receive these funds directly to assist her in the emergency.