Over the course of my 35-year career as a group process professional, I've gradually been developing a deeper appreciation for working intuitively—trusting my sense of what to do in a given situation, even if a rational explanation is out of reach in the moment of choice.
I recently experienced a profound expansion of what is possible in this realm when given the unusual opportunity to work with a group for nine days straight—in person, no less. The group had been around for decades but found itself in a very deep hole, with major unresolved interpersonal tensions, low trust, and no willingness to work on relationship repair. Ugh.
Each day my work partner and I would discuss what we'd try to do with the group to evoke the positives and ameliorate the negatives. It was tough sledding, and many of my ordinary tools were off the table. So we had to wing it.
When I work with a client, my habit is to clear my calendar for the duration of the work cycle, and fully immerse myself in their reality. When doing so, I elevate my energy and enhance my focus. Essentially, I'm all in.
Historically, the outer limit of my direct work with a client is limited to 48 hours (Friday evening to Sunday afternoon). Rarely, that has stretched to three or four days. So nine days represented entirely new territory.
The problem wasn't figuring out where to help (there was no end of things in that category); it was figuring out how to sequence the engagement such that we drew out as much poison as possible, and sensitively gave them every chance to find a path forward that would allow the community to continue forward without placing anyone adrift on an ice floe.
When working over a weekend it's fairly common for me to go to bed at night with an open question about how to proceed the next day and have the answer emerge from my sleep cycle. That is, I awake with clarity about how to proceed that I didn't have when I closed my eyes the night before. In fact, this has happened frequently enough that I've come to trust it—even though I don't understand how it works—and is part of how I've developed my intuitive muscles.
What was eye-opening about my recent gig-in-residence was that I did this every night for nine days.
What's more, there was an echo of this when I crafted my after-action summary of what was accomplished, my analysis, and the work remaining. Three times I went to bed thinking about how best to frame what I had to say… and three times I woke up in the morning with surety about how to proceed.
As a facilitation trainer, for a long time I have emphasized what I style "riding two horses," by which I mean paying attention to what is said, as well as the energy with which it is conveyed and received. Now I've come to embrace the additional nuance of developing and learning to trust one's intuition—inspirations about how to understand and engage that operate below the rational level. It's a different kind of knowing, yet no less potent.
As a facilitator, intuition is about developing sufficient confidence to commit to an action without knowing what it will engender, because it feels right. To be sure, this is not about taking wild guesses, nor is it reading horoscopes. My sense of the right way to focus a conversation, or to frame a question, is substantially informed by a wealth of real world experiences with groups in struggle. The dynamic image I hold around this is committing my weight forward to take a step without knowing where the floor is, trusting that it will be there when my foot comes down.
We humans are such fascinating and nuanced creatures. What a blast I'm having exploring new rooms in the house that is my life.
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