The Doctor Is In (Virtually)

For the second time in five years, my world has been turned upside down.

This time though, I have a lot of company.

During the stretch February 2015-January 2016 I went through a 12-month period in which I lost my marriage, my community, and my health. It was a rough year. When I recovered from that triple whammy, I was in a new relationship and living in a new state (Minnesota, not the state of confusion). After a long pause to cope with debilitation associated with the discovery of my having multiple myeloma, and getting it under control, I was able to resurrect my career as a group process consultant and facilitation trainer—to the point where I was sailing along much as I had pre-2015.

Apparently though, that was too easy. So the Magic 8-ball of my fate was shaken once again, this time returning the enigmatic "Try again later." As it has for many, the emergence of the novel coronavirus has introduced major uncertainty into what the next couple of years will look like.

My work with cooperative groups (whether as an outside facilitator helping a community negotiate a patch of heavy sledding, or as a facilitation trainer) is predicated on being able to accurately read and work with the energy in the room. It's not just paying attention to what people are thinking and saying, it's also about whether relationships and group cohesion are being enhanced or degraded. As a good deal of energy work is nonverbal, the overwhelming bulk of my work is done on site—where I travel to the group and everyone is in the same room.

For the first time in my career, however, that's not an option. And it's not clear when it will be again. My odometer rolled past 70 last fall and I'm immunosuppressed (by virtue of my cancer and its treatment). My oncologist has made it clear that when pandemic officials discuss people in high-risk categories, they're talking about me. As it's a very bad idea for me to contract COVID-19, I probably won't be traveling much until and unless there's a vaccine or herd immunity to protect me—both of which could take a while. (I had my cyclical 28-day visit with my oncologist yesterday and he confirmed my thinking on this.)

So… it's time to reinvent myself (again). Never mind that I'd prefer to deliver my services in person, what can I do when that's not on the table? We're about to find out. The need for assistance didn't dry up with the pandemic; just the ability to respond in the same room.

Of particular interest is how to facilitate emotionally volatile dynamics with a dearth of nonverbal clues. It's hard enough when all the clues are available.

In the last two weeks I've participated in Zoom calls with the students in both of my facilitation training classes (one on southern BC and one in central NC) and fielded inquiries from five groups around the continent: one each in British Columbia, California, Maryland, Michigan, and Virginia. And the beat goes on.

If you have concerns about group dynamics where you or friends think my experience with cooperative groups can help, the doctor is in. Instead of a daily rate, I'll now be thinking in terms of an hourly charge—dispensing group process advice and instruction by the tenths of an hour. We'll see what happens.