I've just returned from a retreat for alumni of the Life Design Studio program at Stanford's d.School. I completed the virtual Studio training for educators in June of 2021, where I learned about facilitating the Designing Your Life (DYL) curriculum. This curriculum, developed by Bill Burnett and Dave Evans, teaches students to use the design-thinking framework to help tackle the "wicked" problem of what's next after college (here's a vintage TedTalk about it that gives a solid overview; there are also books, if you want a real deep dive).
The Life Design Lab began training educators through their studio program in 2017, and last weekend was the very first time they brought those of us who have attended the studio together to share our experiences and learn from each other. For many of us who completed the training virtually (basically everyone post 2019), it was our first time meeting members of the Stanford team or each other in person.
It was one of those experiences where time seemed to stand still and speed by all at the same time. There was a LOT packed into essentially one evening and a full day, and yet nothing felt rushed. There was time to connect and have conversations with colleagues. Time to think and reflect during the activities. The sort of event where you leave with real connections and real inspiration. Where people share openly and without reservation. Where you look around the room and think "these are my people."
It got me thinking about how we create this sort of environment, which can feel increasingly rare in a world that feels like it's always in a hurry, always divided, always guarded against worst-case scenarios. And the answer that keeps coming up for me is: intentionality.
In DYL classes, we spend time talking about the "container" in which the work we're doing will happen. The physical space is typically a classroom, but we go on to talk about the construct or framework we'll be using (design-thinking in this case) and who the community is (the students and instructor). We further define that there will be conversation- the instructor won't be a "sage on the stage" as much as a guide for the students to explore and learn together.
Similarly, the retreat I just attended kicked off with "Open Space Rules" which come from the Agile project management framework and apply to events where participants are highly involved in creating their own learning experiences.1 The rules are:
Whoever comes are the right people.
Whatever happens, is the only thing that could have.
Whenever it starts is the right time.
Whenever it's over, it's over.
Wherever it happens is the right place.
In this framework, there is also the "Law of Personal Mobility":
If, during the course of the gathering, any person finds themselves in a situation where they are neither learning nor contributing, they can go to some more productive place.
I found myself coming back to these throughout the retreat. Did I pick the right session between two options? "Whatever happens, is the only thing that could have." Do I wish I could have had more time with this amazing group? Yes, and . . . "Whenever it's over, it's over." Trust the choices, trust the timing. Make connections and continue the conversations and relationships post-event. Perhaps if we'd had more time, we wouldn't find it necessary to stay connected after the event.
It's not as simple as "if you build it they will come," but I do think if you build it thoughtfully with intention they will come along. And since we're dealing in cliches, I'll add that it's "the little things that go a long way" toward this. The discussion of container/construct/community/conversation takes no more than five minutes of a class that meets for an hour and a half for 8 weeks. Similarly, the Open Space rules were a very small part of the welcome for a much longer retreat. But both happen at the beginning and set a tone: this is the right time, the right place, with the right people.
As we seek to create collaboration and community in this world full of distractions, division, and over-glorification of individualism, it's become clear to me that we have to pay attention to the details. We have to design for the experience we want- it's too important to leave to chance.
Let's set the tone, friends.
Community Conversations
Last week I shared this article in my Things of Beauty roundup: I Think This Will Fix Me: Wellness is everywhere. But just how well does anyone need to be?
had this to say: "I just skimmed the Harper's article and agree that "wellness" has become a huge new THING, when I wonder if in between all of these modalities whether there is a practice that relaxes all of that frantic sampling. Maybe instead of effort-ing we do allow-ing. Instead of rushing to fill in, we let something be empty. SO HARD because (at least) my home base always seems to rush back to doing, doing, doingMindful Moment
In one of the exercises we did at the retreat, I had a chance to play with watercolors. Nothing fancy— just the basic plastic box of 8 colors you might have played with as a kid. Wow, was that fun! Watching the color move on the water and blend with other colors. Highly recommend a little time with some kids' art supplies and no expectations.
(I thought maybe I had snapped a picture of my watercolor creation, but I just checked my phone and I did not- so please enjoy the Canva recreation above. There is a theme from this past weekend, where I was just too engaged in the experience to photograph the experience. Speaking of mindfulness . . .)
Squirrel of the Week
These squirrel boxes with cameras are just the absolute best thing.
What little things have you seen make a big difference in designing successful events or experiences? Thoughts on the Open Space Rules? Do you watercolor? Would love to hear about any and all of it!
This is an oversimplification for the sake of this post not being dissertation length. If you're interested in more details, here they are.
This retreat sounded wonderful in so many ways. It reminded me first of meetups I've had that have not gone well, where I've felt stuck, but chained to the desk out of politeness etiquette. And your post demonstrated the power of "having the conversation," or speaking expectation and giving permission because of how polite conversation binds us. Hey, I think you're creating a little open space here! Thank you for reporting back.
Less information, more pauses, more space to think or feel into it.