The Disaster of Un-Facilitated Open Space (very long)

Phelim McDermott phelim at
Wed Sep 19 16:49:46 PDT 2007

yes yes yes and yes...

tell that story! (the new one).

"Our wholeness has evocative holes."

i love it...

and he has such an important part in it.



On 19 Sep 2007, at 07:23, Peggy Holman wrote:

> Okay, the title isn't is from someone who attended the  
> recent Story Field Conference (  Mind  
> you, it is also a very minority view.  For almost all of the 83+  
> people who attended, it was a mind-blowing, life-altering  
> experience.  It set a new bar for me of what is possible when a  
> diverse group of passionate people come together for 5 days in Open  
> Space.
> I'll say more about the whole conference soon.  In the meantime,  
> there was one particularly provocative post-conference reflection  
> expressing a great deal of frustration about what took place.  This  
> person really struggled with the open nature of the process, and  
> asked some great questions.  (Unfortunately, his piece is in a  
> secured area and I am not ready to ask his permission to share  
> it.)  Still, I think you'll get the gist through my response.
> As I said to him, there is so much to be learned about the dynamic  
> tension between “structured process where everyone knows what’s  
> going on, and everyone agrees to the ground rules” and a space open  
> to the mystery of what is wanting to emerge in the moment....
> One of the main themes I found in your message was why go through  
> all the discomfort?  What’s the point?
> You said: The group seems divided into two camps - those who prefer  
> messy, emotional, and random processing, and those who came here  
> for a specific purpose, with the hope of creating something new and  
> extraordinary, and who are equally frustrated by the chaos.
> I’d offer that for many of us, it is going through the messy,  
> emotional, seemingly random processing that we have the best chance  
> of creating something new and extraordinary.
> I have a deep and abiding commitment to bringing mystery back into  
> most everything we do.  I believe that without the unknown, there  
> is no learning, no creativity, no life.  For me, if there is only  
> certainty, I suffocate.  I also believe that when there is no room  
> for the unknown, it makes itself felt through disease, disorder,  
> violence, depression and other unpleasant and unintended consequences.
> Culturally, we celebrate perfection – perfect athletic performance,  
> musical performance, total quality in production.  I’m glad we do;  
> I have felt the inspiration of experiencing a virtuoso  
> performance.  And I sure don’t want airplanes, bridges, cars built  
> any other way.
> Still, there is a companion to this perfection that I believe is  
> equally essential that is not only not celebrated, but struggles to  
> find its legitimacy -- and grows increasingly important the more  
> dysfunctional and destructive the status quo becomes.  It is what  
> happens at the margins, where something doesn’t yet have a form or  
> a name, where it is seeking to come into being.  My friend, David  
> Gershon, calls it the learning edge.  If we aren’t playing at the  
> border between the known and unknown, we are standing in the way of  
> our own evolution.  To be very pragmatic, there is no learning or  
> transformational change without mystery; if you already know the  
> outcome, then no transformation is involved!
> I appreciate learning from other’s knowledge, and believe that has  
> its place.  When exploring a topic as nascent as a “story field”, I  
> would much rather be present with passionate, committed, talented  
> people exploring their inquiries rather than committed to their  
> certainties.  I suspect this is true for many, if not most of us.
> Could we have made better use of those who brought knowledge about  
> the new story to the gathering?  Surely.  SHOULD we have, in some  
> particular way?  I don’t know.  I think this choice is a useful  
> exploration and would be pleased to engage more fully in it.  In  
> retrospect, I suspect we both gained and lost by the choices we  
> made.  For example, we did not come away with anywhere near the  
> shared sense of how to answer the calling questions as I would have  
> liked.  And yet I wonder, had we done so, would the voices that are  
> often left out found their place in the story?  I have no idea.  I  
> know that I gained a deeper understanding of how vital it is for  
> those voices to be part of the story that emerges.  And I do know  
> that the work continues to unfold among many who were present.
> I have come to believe that strategic conversations, such as we had  
> at the Story Field Conference, are part of a larger trend, a  
> floating conversation, with different threads of a collective  
> exploration slowly converging, bringing together different cohorts  
> who are exploring similar questions.  Through these seemingly  
> unconnected iterations, we are growing a new and vital coherence  
> among us.  At least, that’s my story.  And it begins, indirectly,  
> to touch on this question of what it takes to get things done.
> I, too, have a passion for getting things done. That's why I  
> invested the unbelievable amount of time it took to put together  
> this story field gathering.  But for me, the important question is  
> this:  given an intention, what form of getting things done best  
> serves that intention?
> For example, I co-edited a 700+ page book with over 100  
> contributors.  This required focused, linear skills of getting from  
> A to B on a tight timeline, juggling a vast amount of details as I  
> went.  It was possible because there was a high degree of agreement  
> about the underlying assumptions – the “story field” if you will –  
> of what we were doing.
> However, for something like envisioning a new story, much less a  
> new story field, I believe what it takes to bring about wise action  
> is quite different from A to B thinking. In particular, it takes a  
> special openness to engage as much diversity as possible to achieve  
> as lasting an effect as possible from individuals, small groups,  
> and perhaps even a major subset of the whole group. This is not a  
> linear proposition.  When the assumptions themselves are part of  
> the territory in question, I believe that opening as much space as  
> possible for being receptive to what is wanting to emerge creates  
> the greatest opportunity for deep understanding and lasting results.
> That is part of the reason why, when I look at the how much wise  
> action takes place in our larger culture and the huge amount of  
> fragmentation that impedes wise action, it is clear to me that  
> something different is called for. I believe wise, unimpeded action  
> is an outcome that naturally flows out of strong, healthy  
> relationships. By opening the space as we did, a great deal of  
> relational work was done. What I saw in reading the reflections is  
> a remarkable number of people who said, “I now have the courage to  
> act on my convictions”; “I know that I am not alone; I have allies”.
> Are you aware of the remarkable number of meetings, conference  
> calls, one-on-one connections that are all in process as a result  
> of our conference? The action on the wiki, alone, is a testament to  
> the aliveness of our work together. Remarkably, a third of the  
> conference participants (27) have posted 143 edits during the  
> conference and for more than 2 weeks afterwards, and counting.
> Those people who have the good fortune to be quite at home in the  
> dominant culture -- which has an ethic of focusing on action,  
> getting things done in a linear way -- may not have thought about  
> what gets lost when that is always the primary focus.  They may not  
> have wondered what voices don’t get heard because they find no  
> place in that drive for action.  These are major parts of my life  
> -- and the lives of millions of other people.
> I think our culture has paid a huge price by squeezing uncertainty  
> and chaos out of every place we can!  I believe it has created a  
> wide range of unintended consequences, most of which are virtually  
> invisible.  For example, one such consequence is an unspoken norm  
> that to be in community means conforming to the dominant story.  If  
> I say something different, something that is not comfortable or is  
> unfamiliar, particularly if it is emotionally unpleasant, it is  
> judged to be inappropriate. To speak out is to risk being  
> ostracized.  No wonder many women, people of color, and young  
> people opt out!
> I think the current fragmentation of our society grew out of  
> feelings that there were no avenues for voices that don’t fit  
> accepted norms.  How can I feel connected to a larger whole when  
> there is no space for my point of view?  At the extreme, violence  
> is a consequence of this fragmentation; if there isn’t a space for  
> voices with different stories, then it plays out in other forms.
> With all that is happening across our world today, I believe the  
> story has become far too complex for any one culture to have all  
> the answers.  Because there was space for grief, anger, fear, and  
> radical diversity, this gathering made creating space for the  
> voices and feelings not usually expressed more visible, more  
> urgent, and more poignant to me than even I have ever experienced.   
> I felt my own anger as a woman when challenged by yet another  
> straight, white man who saw all of the overflowing emotion as  
> nonessential and nonproductive.  I heard, for the first time, the  
> pain of indigenous people who have always been completely invisible  
> to me.  I heard the anguish of people of mixed race and non-white  
> races expressed as a visceral experience of being choked off from  
> speaking their truth.  And I heard the pain of the white man – and  
> others – confused and repelled by what was happening.  And the  
> cacophony of those voices -- because they were heard -- welded us  
> into a powerful community that was viscerally felt by the vast  
> majority of participants, and out of which has come the ecosystem  
> of activities that we are seeing online, in phone calls, and in  
> upcoming local gatherings -- as well as stimulating conversations  
> like this about what future conferences will be like…
> I think part of the reason there was so much “stuff” surfacing on  
> Wednesday morning is that we culturally provide so little space for  
> collective meaning making of what is disturbing.  I sense that we  
> have 1) a great deal of unhandled angers, hurts, fears that are  
> wanting to be expressed and 2) very little experience expressing  
> them and dealing with them together creatively.  I was talking to  
> someone who said the invitation to discern whether what was  
> surfacing was personal or coming from a deeper source was  
> interesting but with no practice, she wasn’t sure how to know.   
> And, as Van Jones spoke on the Pachamama video, we also know very  
> little about how to truly and usefully hear such expressions of  
> anger, fear and grief.
> When I look back on Wednesday morning, the range of issues  
> expressed was extraordinary -- tensions between male/female,  
> western culture/indigenous culture, moving to action/handling our  
> emotional backlog -- and there was room for all of it.  I  
> personally believe that our collective capacity to stay present to  
> it all was pivotal for the quality of connections, and commitments  
> to actions that seems to be emerging from the gathering.
> As Mark Jones made us aware of, we saw, heard and loved each  
> other.  And it isn't about a woo-woo comfy Green meme feeling.   
> There is power here, a latent power of the whole.   We are only  
> beginning to understand the practical power of seeing, hearing, and  
> loving each other fully, together.  To grow into that  
> understanding, we'll need a lot more such gatherings -- including a  
> lot more continuity as a community.  But that's getting ahead of  
> myself here….
> Right after the conference, my brother told me that Robert Putnam  
> (Bowling Alone; Better Together) has just released some new  
> research that says the more diverse a neighborhood, the more  
> disengaged it is from the political process.  This is no surprise  
> to me:  as long as the pain, anger, frustration remains suppressed,  
> of course we can’t connect to get something done!  When Grace spoke  
> her pain, she made visible something that was already present.  She  
> opened the way for others to express their hurt, anger, frustration  
> of what usually remains invisible.  While messy, we made room for  
> voices that are usually silent, to be heard.  It is that sort of  
> healing that is vital for us to become the kinds of diverse  
> communities -- diverse, loving, and effective communities -- that I  
> heard so many of us long for!
> And it took great courage. I see this as another reason for being  
> willing to open the space for what is wanting to emerge.  As we  
> practice being in the unknown together and learn to trust each  
> other, we discover that we are not alone.  In the last couple years  
> of doing this work, it is one of the strongest lessons I’ve  
> received: when people know they are held, they have substantially  
> more courage to act.
> What a profound combination: connection to people who we might have  
> previously seen as different from ourselves - which means we have  
> much great access to each other to use our difference creatively -  
> coupled with that increased courage. When we do this well, I think  
> the capacity for wise action actually skyrockets!  This is not to  
> say that we don't have a lot more to learn about HOW to use our  
> differences creatively and HOW to be more effective together.  It  
> is to say that our path to higher-order, more elegant handling of  
> our differences and collaboration is through hearing and welcoming  
> our differences – including our emotional differences -  into our  
> collective spaces.  That that process will often be messy goes  
> without saying.  But it is out of that messiness that our increased  
> collective capacity and communion arise.
> I once heard a story of week-long Native American powwows in which  
> they drum and dance and worship and socialize for almost the entire  
> time -- and then get all their business done in the last  
> afternoon.  The communion built during most of the week makes their  
> work together a breeze, once they get to it.  I think there's  
> something like that at work in the kind of community I'd like to  
> see grow around the story field project.  That, combined with the  
> power of emergence and the flowering of diverse passions, is my own  
> take on "getting things done."  That said, I'm also intrigued with  
> how we can arrive at collective coherences and whole-group  
> accomplishments without endangering those other powers.  I leave  
> that to our future work together.
> We came together in a meaningful way towards accomplishing  
> something that called to each of us at the Story Field Conference  
> more than any other conference I've been part of.  What made this  
> possible?  I don’t think it was random, nor a lack of  
> facilitation.  I think it was shifting the locus of attention from  
> what you would call facilitation to hosting what is wanting to  
> emerge in a space bounded by a common intention to understand the  
> role of story as a field phenomenon and to use story for profound  
> social change.   I believe we are still learning how to do this  
> well – and that there is much to learn.
> I tend to think of this as a shift of what is in the foreground and  
> what is in the background.  Rather than a primary focus on the flow  
> of a process and keeping people “on task” or at least on the  
> subject, the locus of attention is on the flow of energy - in which  
> there is confidence that any voice that surfaces has something to  
> contribute that can be heard and integrated.
> I get that from your point of view there was essentially no  
> facilitation.  In a way, I’d agree with you as the term  
> facilitation doesn’t really describe the nature of being a host to  
> what is emerging.  There is work involved in this role; it is just  
> very different than facilitating a process.  Because it is less  
> familiar, it tends to be more invisible.  Gabriel Shirley used a  
> term a few years back that comes closest to describing it for me:  
> running the energy.  Much of what we are doing is paying attention  
> to the energy of the group, tending to its flow – what is the  
> collective mood? what can we sense happening at the edges? what  
> serves the whole in reaching its potential?  I don’t pretend to  
> know all the answers; I think we are in the early stages of  
> learning how to work with group energy.  I know I am.
> For me, a core intention is to be sure that energy doesn’t get  
> stuck, that the space stays open for what is wanting to emerge.   
> While I see how you can interpret it as “egos reigning supreme” or  
> that “a big no-no is making someone feel bad, controlled or cut  
> off”, there are other ways to understand what is happening.  During  
> a reflection among the hosts, Gabriel Shirley named it this way:  
> there were two primary perspectives present: 1) each person  
> speaking was acting out of their own ego, doing personal work; 2)  
> each voice is there on behalf of the whole and is in some way a  
> gift to the whole.  I’d say that this isn’t an either/or, both are  
> real.  These perspectives offer alternative ways of making sense of  
> what is occurring.
> I think many of us have minimal patience with this because,  
> particularly in the realm of affect, our culture has taught us very  
> little about where and how to express our emotional anger, pain,  
> grief.  The dominant culture provides very few venues for this, so,  
> of course, if a space is made safe enough, it will surface.  I  
> applaud the quality of witnessing we were all part of -- including  
> you -- at the Story Field Conference, the discipline of being  
> present to raw feelings that eighty people held this space on  
> behalf of what was expressed.
> Paradoxically, the dominant culture sees these once-suppressed  
> feelings dominating the conversation without noticing that (and  
> how) it usually dominates conversations.  The dominant culture is  
> transparent to itself, just as our individual blind spots are  
> invisible to us, just as the water is invisible to the fish.  Those  
> most at home in the dominant culture have much less practice at the  
> discipline of witnessing because by definition, the dominant  
> culture supports their way of processing. Privileged people don't  
> have to listen.  Less privileged people get much more practice  
> sitting and listening to another’s bullshit. In fact, the dominant  
> culture even institutionalizes this practice in the form of  
> sanctioned talking head presentations.
> As Emily pointed out, in our western culture, focusing on getting  
> things done is our norm -- often, I would add, to the detriment of  
> expressing any other aspect of ourselves individually or  
> collectively.  I can imagine on Wednesday morning that those  
> expecting a space for getting things done were extremely frustrated  
> when the space shifted to a different purpose!  But I find myself  
> wondering:  Is this frustration more or less legitimate than the  
> frustration of those whose voices are suppressed?  Perhaps we  
> should focus, instead, on whether our choice of plenary activity  
> served our collective intention.
> There are no doubt gentler pathways than to invite people to jump  
> into Open Space with little context of what to expect and with no  
> training wheels.  Yet, I know of no other means that makes it so  
> clear so quickly that the ultimate authority for one’s experience  
> rests with oneself.  And, I wonder, given the scale and scope of  
> living a new story into being, what best serves?  I don’t pretend  
> to have the answer; I suspect there are many parallel paths.  I do  
> believe that the capacity to be present to that which makes us  
> uncomfortable is a vital skill for this work.  I believe that the  
> space at Shambhala Mountain Center held some trigger for everyone!   
> To the extent that such triggers feed our learning, growing and  
> connecting, I celebrate them.  To the extent they cause people to  
> check out, go silent, and disappear, they cause me concern.  There  
> are surely things to learn about how to navigate all that more  
> successfully -- but trying to keep people from frustration and  
> triggers is certainly not the key.
> Something you expressed that I found particularly ironic: that  
> there was a norm in Open Space that everyone be comfortable.  In  
> fact, I think we were quite willing to have people be  
> uncomfortable.  It was just that those who are most used to being  
> comfortable were the most frustrated and uncomfortable as we made  
> room for voices that are seldom seen, heard or welcomed to show up.
> And the gift I personally found in that was huge!  I learned a  
> great deal about both the new story and the nature of story telling  
> from what took place during the week:
> ·                    The new story is most effectively told in ways  
> that are consistent with the new story
> ·                    Blame, judgment, victimization, domination are  
> all part of the old story and when they show up in telling the new  
> story, it causes those who are made invisible by the old story to  
> either disappear further or, where there is room for them to show  
> up, to show up fiercely
> ·                    The new story integrates the duality implicit  
> in male/female, western/indigenous, white/non-white into a larger  
> pattern of “differentiated wholeness”.  By differentiated  
> wholeness, I mean that our differences become a creative part of  
> the whole – so that to belong in a community is to show up in all  
> one’s unique gifts and quirks
> ·                    Wholeness has holes in it, which has huge  
> implications for how stories are told:
> o       If the story teller speaks as if they have all the answers,  
> it leaves no room for voices and perspectives that have something  
> to add
> o       Taking a stance of humility and conscious evolution,  
> recognizing that the story is never complete allows space for new  
> aspects to show up and be integrated
> o       Being curious when missing voices show up is of service to  
> the whole, inviting a more whole version of our stories to emerge
> I don’t pretend to have all of the answers to how best to bring  
> mystery back into its rightful place.  It is clear the form we used  
> is not comfortable for some.  Perhaps it will never be -- and  
> perhaps it is important that it never be, at least to some degree.   
> I do believe that within the collective us, the capacity to be  
> receptive, compassionately unattached, is essential for the new  
> story to blossom.
> Open Space makes a huge amount of space for the receptive.  It also  
> makes an extraordinary amount of space for action.  Where a group  
> goes emerges out of its own needs.  To say that again, a little  
> differently:  it is the energy of the group that most shapes the  
> nature of the space.  By not “facilitating” the group in a specific  
> direction, we trust that what best serves the collective intention  
> of understanding the story field and the new story is served.  When  
> the intention is complex, as in defining a novel idea like “story  
> field”, I have a bias towards a process that boldly invites the  
> emergent present, trusting the wisdom of the group to take it where  
> it most needs to go. Could we have provided more context?  Of  
> course.  Would that have been our best service?  I don’t know.  It  
> would have created a different gathering.  Would the voices and  
> feelings that are normally invisible found space to show up in  
> productive ways?  I don’t know.  Would we have had a clearer, more  
> articulated sense of the story field and the new story?  If we did,  
> I fear it might have been more intellectual and less embodied.   
> Trusting the group energy in open space, I trust that the  
> conversations stimulated by your, David's and others' critiques  
> will produce innovations that will allow us to explore these  
> questions more deeply and consciously in practice, together as a  
> community.
> I do understand that, in particular, the grief, anger, and fear  
> expressed was way overboard for people who have little or no  
> experience with it; or for those who feel that such expression  
> belongs in its own special container specifically for that  
> purpose.  Would I and others have had the lived experience of the  
> new story that we did without all that surfacing?  I honestly don’t  
> know.  There are ways in which both answers are true, and I know  
> that we'll be learning more about this.
> I believe that in the new story, we have a right to be whole people  
> – head, heart, body, and spirit.  And I believe we owe it to each  
> other to learn to be present to the whole of us in collective  
> settings.  In fact, I think because we did that, it contributed  
> immensely to why so many people said this experience was life  
> changing for them.
> While we haven’t yet landed in the intellectual coherence of the  
> new story that many of us desired (myself included), I believe we  
> LIVED a nascent form of the new story.  There was space for all of  
> us and not in the form of “let’s make everyone comfortable” or in  
> the form of “you need to behave in expected ways”.  Quite the  
> opposite!  We made space for people to be real together, where our  
> differences were welcome disturbances from which learning and  
> growth could and did happen.
> Can we get better at creating such experiences?  I sure hope so!  I  
> am sure there are better ways of inviting in male/female,  
> indigenous/western, straight/gay, white/color than we know right  
> now.  We’re just getting started.
> I know now that if we can’t hear new voices, we stay stuck – as  
> most of our current systems are.  No wonder people are checking out  
> of them!  I got a much deeper understanding of what it is like to  
> always need to keep what is most dear invisible or suffer the wrath  
> of indifference, judgment, dismissal.  I also felt a new compassion  
> for what it is like to be seen as the oppressor, the one holding  
> the current form in place, even when we see ourselves as in the  
> vanguard of change.
> Still, you may well ask, why bring in so much mystery at once?  Why  
> not just small doses?  It may well be that for many, that’s what  
> makes the most sense.  For me, I believe we’re entering into a time  
> of increasing dissolution; more and more of our assumptions and our  
> systems will be falling apart faster and faster.  The more of us  
> who become more capable of being present to the anger, grief, fear,  
> and confusion that will surface, the better.  What better way to  
> practice than in learning more about subjects we care about with  
> people we discover are kindred spirits?
> I am excited and fascinated at how engaged so many people who  
> gathered still are!  Many people made deep connections with  
> others.  The intellectual and practical work are underway big  
> time.  I wonder if it is because we didn’t fully complete our work  
> together?  Our wholeness has evocative holes in it!  We’re still  
> collectively processing the questions around which we gathered.   
> Perhaps this too -- rather than being a disappointment -- is a  
> lesson in keeping the mystery alive and following its enticing  
> energy to wherever it leads us.
> That said, as you pointed out, chaos can be quite challenging, so  
> how do we welcome it in a way that is of service to a group?  That  
> is an art that we are still learning.  It is part of the dialogue  
> that your message taps for me.  We do know some things about it:
> We know that creating a sense of sacred space can make a tremendous  
> difference (our time at the Stupa that first morning in the  
> presence of Spirit and our ancestors contributed to bringing to  
> consciousness what would make the space fertile and productive)
> We know that expressing dreams, desires, possibilities makes a  
> difference (e.g., our wishes spoken as if we are making them  
> happen, and speaking to what would blow our minds)
> We know inviting adult behavior that asks us to draw from the best  
> of ourselves matters (as Mark did by offering HSL – hear, see, and  
> love -- and as we did in naming the Law of Two Feet – taking  
> responsibility for what we each love -- and asking people to check  
> within themselves for what was coming through them for guidance  
> rather than looking to an outside authority)
> And we believe that working with the energy present in the moment  
> matters.
> Beyond that, I expect this conversation and others like it to  
> continue, helping us discern how best to welcome chaos, to make  
> room for the emergent while tending to whatever form of getting  
> things done best serves.
> Have you ever seen a strange attractor coming into being?  (Strange  
> attractors are beautiful mathematical images. (see http:// 
> ~stilti/images/chaotic_attractors/chaos26.jpg&imgrefurl=http:// 
> poly.html&h=640&w=640&sz=45&hl=en&start=3&um=1&tbnid=ieBIZJB9pAv28M:&t 
> bnh=137&tbnw=137&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dstrange%2Battractors%26svnum% 
> 3D10%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26rls%3DGGGL,GGGL:2006-42,GGGL:en%26sa% 
> 3DN).  They take a mathematical formula, push some numbers through,  
> plot the output on a map, feed the output back through the formula,  
> and plot again.  In other words, they iterate through the same  
> formula over and over. Initially the dots seem completely random.   
> Over time, a pattern becomes visible.
> I see conversations in a similar light.  I find most of us live,  
> either consciously or unconsciously, in a complex question or two.   
> For example: What is the nature of story?  What is the new story  
> that wants to be born? How do we bring this story more fully to  
> life?  As we answer these questions, we feed the responses back  
> through and new answers emerge.  They begin to paint a picture.   
> When we join with others in a shared inquiry, the picture takes on  
> more shape.  What starts as seemingly random, begins to come into  
> coherent form.  It begins to entice us in, as we collectively call  
> it into being and witness its new resonance surfacing.  This isn’t  
> a simple story that one person can create alone.  And its shaping  
> demands more than just our intellects.  It draws from the whole of  
> us, head, heart, body, spirit.  It is a complex response, made of  
> music, art, dance, idea.  It is a coherent, many-storied response  
> to questions that we all hold dear.  And it is still unfolding.
> So I end with an idea that surfaced through Tom Atlee and me:
> We are calling into being our collective soul so that our many- 
> storied world can find its way…and each and everyone one of us has  
> our roles to play in it.
> Love,
> Peggy
> ________________________________
> Peggy Holman
> The Open Circle Company
> 15347 SE 49th Place
> Bellevue, WA  98006
> (425) 746-6274
> For the new edition of The Change Handbook, go to:
> "An angel told me that the only way to step into the fire and not  
> get burnt, is to become
> the fire".
>   -- Drew Dellinger
> * * ==========================================================  
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