A simple, less esoteric practice to listen in to an organization's purpose consists of allocating an empty chair at any meeting to represent the organization and its evolutionary purpose. Anybody participating in the meeting can, at any time, change seats, to listen to and become the voice of the organization. The empty chair can be used explicitly or as a guiding voice in our heads. Here are some questions one might tune into while sitting in that chair:
Heiligenfeld, an operator of mental health facilities in Germany, uses a practice with a similar effect. As part of every meeting, someone is asked to volunteer to take possession of a pair of tingsha bells, two small hand cymbals that can make a beautiful, crystal-like sound. Whenever the person feels that ground rules are not being respected, or that the meeting is serving egos more than purpose, she can make the cymbals sing. The rule is that no one can speak until the last sound of the cymbal has died out- which takes a surprisingly long time. During the silence, participants are to reflect on the question: "Am I in service to the topic we are discussing and to the organization?" Colleagues are now so used to this practice that simply reaching out to the cymbals is all it takes to get a meeting back on track.[5]
A simple, less esoteric practice to listen in to an organization's purpose consists of allocating an empty chair at any meeting to represent the organization and its evolutionary purpose. Anybody participating in the meeting can, at any time, change seats, to listen to and become the voice of the organization. The empty chair can be used explicitly or as a guiding voice in our heads. Here are some questions one might tune into while sitting in that chair:
Heiligenfeld, an operator of mental health facilities in Germany, uses a practice with a similar effect. As part of every meeting, someone is asked to volunteer to take possession of a pair of tingsha bells, two small hand cymbals that can make a beautiful, crystal-like sound. Whenever the person feels that ground rules are not being respected, or that the meeting is serving egos more than purpose, she can make the cymbals sing. The rule is that no one can speak until the last sound of the cymbal has died out- which takes a surprisingly long time. During the silence, participants are to reflect on the question: "Am I in service to the topic we are discussing and to the organization?" Colleagues are now so used to this practice that simply reaching out to the cymbals is all it takes to get a meeting back on track.[5]