04/20/2021
We Are Not Who We Were
April 20, 2021
Thirteen months into pandemic, we are emerging. By now, many more of us understand we are not “returning to normal,” we are not “going back” even if we are returning to our offices. We have changed. How do we enter the near distant future where some of life might look and feel a little bit like it used to and so much has changed?
This week while facilitating a group of senior higher education leaders in a dialogue about the future, one person bravely offered this observation, “I’m not who I was at the start of this.” There was a long pause that each of us could feel, even inside our Zoom room. This leader had named something each of us felt but didn’t have the words and hadn’t yet paused for long enough to notice we were feeling it, too.
We have changed. Though our individual experiences are as unique as our fingerprints, collectively we have witnessed a
• racial reckoning and uprising that continues today
• ravaging global pandemic and continued economic fall out
• intensifying climate change as fires, storms and the like continue to transform the earth
• divisive, historic presidential election that exposed further that whole swaths of our country do not experience the same realities
and
• life on the frontlines and/or the blending of work and life in new and vulnerable ways
• leadership amidst and through chaos and unrivaled complexity.
All of this has changed us.
We are not who we once were.
We Are Not Who We Were | penn-cannon-group
higher education leadership after covid
04/02/2020
A Love Letter to Higher Education Leaders
April 1, 2020
On this first day of April, in a year that already feels like a year of long months, I'm sending wishes for strength, health and grace in the days ahead.
You are leading amidst the most extraordinary time in living memory for higher education. This is a moment when all of the ways our institutions create certainty for our students, faculty, staff, communities and the broader world seem at once uncertain.
And yet, as I travel alongside you I see you being resourceful and innovative, meeting each new uncertainty with grace. As the waves of this pandemic crash upon your campus shores, you are
read on here... https://www.penncannon.com/copy-of-inspiration-blog
01/08/2019
Curiosity is a s**t starter, but that's okay, sometimes we have to rumble with the story to find the truth. ~Brené Brown
When I feel extra "judgy" I notice it makes me extra grumpy (You've been there, right?). I try to ignite my curiousity and sense of wonder and dial down my sense of righteousness. I get curious about the story I'm telling about myself and others. I start to wonder what else might also be true? Turns out, there's always a better story to tell.
What is our story this second week of the year?
12/29/2018
This time of year – its pace, frenzy, beauty and emotion – is remarkable. The conversations I had this past week inspired both reflection on all of the happenings of this past year and anticipation for what awaits us in the year ahead. Sitting with it all, I became acutely aware of our tendency to bypass the endings.
In each of those conversations, there were distinct endings. My dearest and closest friend is starting an exciting new role in January. She’s ending a run with a company she has loved and thought she’d be with “forever.” Another friend ends one chapter to begin a whole new phase of his life and role with his company. One of my clients has reluctantly realized that he has to end his tenure at his organization in order to make the kind of impact that matters most to him.
These conversations got me thinking, what does it mean to end well? Can endings be as sweet as beginnings, even when they are hard?
As 2018 draws to a close, this is my roadmap for endings:
Find the stillness amidst the drive to move to the next thing. So often we are off to the next thing before we’ve said our good-byes to our current thing. The thing that is happening right now. Endings are particularly hard this way. We are already immersed in the next thing. We can’t wait to get away from our present thing. What if we slowed down and took in the ending? What is it like to be here, now, in this moment? What whispers of wisdom and courage can we hear in our endings?
Slow down and give this moment a moment.
Tell yourself the whole truth and know you do not have to DO one thing about it. The endings can offer us new perspective. I think there are times when we avoid the truth because we equate telling ourselves the truth with our having to know what to do about it. Yet, just the act of acknowledging it frees us from it. What is your truth about your ending? What was truly extraordinary about this chapter? Maybe there was something you couldn’t see before that you can see now that you’ve arrived at the ending? What will you miss? What are you ready to let go of? What was hard? Do you have any regrets? What do you believe in the stillness of your heart about the future you are creating?
Tell yourself the truth and let it be.
Let gratitude lead your ending. Gratitude asks us to pause in reverence to the things that matter. So now that you are here, in this moment of ending, what has been meaningful to you? What and who are you grateful for? How will you let them know you appreciate them? Take the time to tell the people who made a difference to you what their contributions have meant.
And remember, one of the people to be grateful for and to is you. After all, you have been here all along. You brought yourself to this moment.
Honor your contributions and show yourself the grace you’ve shown others.
Ending well also asks us to begin. After you know where you’ve been, set your sights on the next chapter. What will you carry forward? What will you do differently? What is important to you about the impact you will make? Who are you taking with you? How do you want to make people feel?
Begin again with the end in mind.