The Strategy
How exactly do you change the world?
A few weeks ago, I joined a group of community leaders at Harvard’s Divinity School in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I could begin to give you the entire script of how I, the unlikeliest of applicants to this gathering, was selected to participate in what I believe to be among the most transformative events of my adult life, but that’d be unnecessary. Just know that it was an amazing experience, where I was afforded the opportunity to be equal parts spiritual and human and activist and idealist.
I don’t think I’ve hugged or been hugged so much at once.
From my understanding, the point of this gathering (which didn’t really have a name), was to converge together as community leaders with a passion for justice and change and an affinity for spirituality. Not all of us were of the cloth or even engaged in faith-based organization, but we seemed to recognize the importance of serving something greater than ourselves.
We prayed. We sang. We wept. We ate. We laughed. We cussed. We wondered and dreamed and thought. We danced to The Percolator. (By the way, white people dancing is still one of the funnest things ever.) I discovered the secret to the perfect hug. We cheered each other on and welcomed each others’ stories.
Personally and honestly, I found myself challenged by frequent thoughts of inadequacy and uncertainty. Here I was, sitting next to pastors and actual activists, people who had not only started their own businesses, but then was able to sell them for a profit.
I barely knew what I was going to wear tomorrow, much less the logistical planning of my own organization, practically speaking.
How did I truly fit in here? What was I doing here? Could I really change the world?
Speaking of changing the world, it’s already changing. I’m not even talking about the election. I’m over the election. Frankly, I wouldn’t care if we collectively stopped talking about the election, because I’m exhausted with feigning surprise or hurt every time (insert oppressive ideology) makes a move. I find it distracting from my own missions in life, which are to 1) Make famous the name of Jesus the Christ and 2) Take care of, guide, lead, and love my family. Simple.
Being among so many passionate, beautiful people was the best kind of exhaustion, because it reminded me of why The Listening, Inc. is still here.
The point of it all was and is to be a safe space for people to listen and be listened to.
I don’t think that’ll change. From a business standpoint, the demand will always be there. Until the bell tolls or the trumpet sounds, the human race as a collective will get the whole “treat-others-how-you-want-to-be-treated” thing wrong. As a result, there will always be those who want to connect, who want to be safe, who want to experience something different than what they’ve been used to.
As our time wound to a close, one of the lead organizers revealed a key thought behind this gathering of humans, which was our common thread and the main idea behind The Listening.
We are the strategy.
In response to what many seem to feel has been the most emotionally draining year in a while, we are the answer to the questions that arise.
How do we survive in this new world? How do we heal? How do we gain understanding? How do we love despite all the hate and hurt and pain, natural or mad-made?
We do it together.
This is not an attempt to violate anyone’s personal boundaries or victim-shame or –blame. This is not all hippy speech (although I did come face-to-face with the hippy in me).
I struggle to recognize a way to survive apart from each other, and with people who look/sound/believe/dance differently than me. I say that as Nick George the human and Nicholas Steven George, founder of The Listening Incorporated. We need each other to understand each other. Sometimes, we may even understand ourselves in the process.
There is a room, where business leaders and bright-eyed optimists sit together and dream. There is a place where those who have been historically disenfranchised and victimized laugh with reckless abandon, mouths split wide open with joy ringing out. They sit together, waiting for you to say something true, something with conviction. They are cheering for you, wanting to witness your healing and growth, or just wanting to know who you are. They want to change the world with you. Maybe even for you. They are listening.
What do you have to say?
