Turn, Turn, Turn

As you look back on your life, what transitions do you remember?

What significant moments—or demarcations of your path—took you from there to here?

And of those turning points, which ones did you not plan or choose? What actually foisted itself upon you?

One of the turning points I remember was being laid off once. I was let go along with an entire department of 60 or so people. They gave us significant notice. But still, it was a shock. It was an abrupt, harsh ending to what had been an amazing run with an talented group of senior leaders.

I had no idea what was next. 

I thought I might be ready for something different. But I wasn’t sure what it was.

A dear friend of mine suggested I consider holding a Clearness Committee. This tradition dates back to the 1600s, and was invented by the Quakers. A Clearness Committee is not designed to “fix” people or advise them, but rather to help people remove the barriers that get in our way so that we can discover our own inner wisdom.

Parker Palmer has written a great summary about Clearness Committees. My friend had been part of a number of such experiences and offered to host one for me in her home. She sensed it might help me gain some clarity about my future.

I invited a dozen of my dear, trusted friends and colleagues to come along for this thing—that, honestly, I wasn’t really sure exactly what it was. We gathered over a meal of chicken and cornbread with some anticipation. You could tell something exciting was about to happen. 

So, I shared briefly about where I was in life, and what was on my mind. 

Once the focus of the Clearness Committee does that, the rest of the group then asks open-ended questions of that person for about 90 minutes.

Yes, they peppered me with meaningful questions for an hour and a half!

These friends were only allowed to ask questions—they could not chat back and forth, comment, or respond. A steady flow of questions came from the group, building upon each other, and I answered each one, moving deeper and deeper into the opening that this event was creating. 

It was a hello to whatever was coming for me!

I remember feeling excited. I was deeply grateful for these thought partners who came to sit and explore with me. They sat there, quiet and reflective, alongside me in this space. We pondered together in the not knowing, in this hallway between my worlds, in this pause between one job ending and another not yet showing up.

Have you ever experienced something like that?

It was brilliant.

And if you haven’t, how might you use a Clearness Committee if you could have one? 

In this moment now, thinking back those years ago when this happened, I still feel moved by the experience. And I'm humming those lyrics by The Byrds: 

To everything (turn, turn, turn) 

There is a season (turn, turn, turn) 

And a time to every purpose, under heaven.

A time to build up, a time to break down 

A time to dance, a time to mourn 

A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together.

We made our own simmering stone soup that evening in Lexington, MA. A recipe I probably could not re-create, but I don't know that I would want to anyway. It was a sweet gathering of some dear friends who helped me find some clearness in a moment of fog. Grateful to them, to my friend for holding it, to Parker Palmer for inspiring her, and to the Quakers for dreaming this all up.