As the last few strands of sunshine in summer break trickle through my fingers I am
preparing myself for my next class. I have three classes to complete the
program and I apparently saved some tough ones for the end. In my next
class, Methods of Organizational Research, in part, we conduct a literature
review. I was advised by a classmate to have my research question ready
before I started the class. My search for a question started with
organizational silence. Although I do not have a perfect research question a scant breath or two before the class starts I have delved into silence.
Originally I read about how silence can crush an organization--and there is plenty of literature on that, but I came to sharpen my focus on the benefits of organizational silence. Can the organization thrive in the midst of silence? When is silence appropriate? What does silence mean to the individual who practices it? Obviously I have a lot of questions but few answers. I think that is one of the most promising feelings I have before each class. I know I will emerge more comfortable and confident with the topic and I will (in sometimes the most unpredictable ways) have applied the concepts in a way which deepens my gratitude for the knowledge.
In an earlier post I became interested in John Francis and his 17 year vow of silence. In preparation for this class I just finished "The Ragged Edge of Silence: Finding Peace in a Noisy World." In truth much of the book seemed more than I expected about being silent so we can become better listeners. Even so, I did pick up a gem when Francis' father spoke the words which seem to dig into some of the issues that interest me: "After the [Master's] ceremony my dad came back to my apartment and asked, 'How do you do that? How do you walk into a town that you never been in before and bring all these people together without even saying anything? How do you do that? I really want to know."
Considering his father had uttered the most discouraging words amongst his family, it was great to see the father find value in his son's unusual methods of living in the world. In response to his father, Francis writes, "I looked at him. And in the looking I thought about all the words I would have said--or could have said--about how it is not so much what we say without lips, but what is in our hearts, and how we all long for that kind of straight talk. When we can listen with our hearts, there is nothing that we cannot do together. And how do we listen with our hearts? The answer is with love: talking straight from the heart." This advice, of course, is wonderful. But as I just stepped into this topic I have some work to do to find out how to apply this in an organization.
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