Weaving (plus hockey references) – February 18, 2019

I mentioned to you the other night that I appreciate the idea of “weaving” that Prinsloo makes mention of in the article Creating the Feeling of Collaboration: The Art of Ensembling. It is a term that we use at the The Working Centre (TWC) to describe the kind of intentional community building that is our practice.  Prinsloo dangles the term as a section title, but abandons the metaphor immediately after. I’m not sure that people will immediately equate the rejection of status with weaving as Prinsloo does – almost apropos of nothing – but it is essential to the concept.

As a non-hierarchical entity, TWC must account for “the big picture” without resorting to authoritarian power structures that can kill ensemble feel: inclusive and responsive flow-based work that prioritizes real relationship. We work together without management by accounting for responsibility as a collective: each person must engage with their share of responsibility to the whole.  There is nothing “above my paygrade” – we all earn within a few dollars of each other on a flattened pay grid – and there is no abdication necessary.  Instead we practice opening to complexity and including our colleagues in difficult or dense situations that might paralyze or overwhelm a worker or participant (or both). We form circles of support around a situation or person – trusting that the ensemble will satisfy where the individual cannot.

Weaving builds on the above practice. Not everyone, I have learned, can weave well. Weaving is less directional than many are comfortable with: it’s a side-to-side with purpose, as opposed to the straight lines we are conditioned to operate in, or that others may insist on. You have to keep the big picture in mind while committing to the practical, small gestures that are the soul of the work. You cannot abandon one for the other – big picture work for the daily practical work – but must commit to reconciling the two.  Weaving, at TWC, is often done by longer tenured workers who can bring their body of experience to bear in light of an emerging big picture.  Experience is not equated with tradition or authority in our practice and cannot be wielded like a club to subdue complexity. Experience is always analogous to the immediate, and is offered within context. Experience is story; it can be mined for meaning without being prescriptive. Weaving as practice is not control, but an intentional layering of flow.        

I also mentioned to you that I like hockey.  I did not see this coming.  I turned 30 and it just happened. My wife is extremely surprised.  But hockey at its best – as described by Ken Dryden in The Game – can also be described as the layered flow of an intentional ensemble. And I think this is why I like it.  Like Dryden, I played as a goaltender, which means spending a fair amount of time observing from a distinct vantage point while being integral to the play. Dryden describes the evolution of Hockey away from the straight ahead, north-south style touted by Canadian teams towards the east-west, Soviet influenced style of today’s game:

… hockey is a transition game: offense to defense, defense to offense, one team to another. Hundreds of tiny fragments of action, some leading somewhere, most going nowhere. Only one thing is clear. A fragmented game must be played in fragments. Grand designs do not work.
— Ken Dryden, "The Game"

This is weaving.

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“Exodus of All the Magic Animals” - Short Fiction