‘Do you have the patience to wait until your mud settles and the water is clear? Can you remain unmoving until the right direction arises by itself?’ (Lao Tzu)
‘What do we do when a good question creates more anxiety or uncertainty, rather than less?’ I was marking assignments this week for participants on an ALA advanced Action Learning facilitator training programme, leading to Institute of Leadership & Management recognition for those who successfully complete it. One participant quoted Lao Tzu’s words (above) as a profound reflection on the value of reflection in Action Learning.
We often associate the ‘Action’ in Action Learning with what happens after the session: the action someone decides to take as a result of the conversation. But what if action is also what happens during the session? For example, when a peer asks a question that challenges an assumption, opens up a new perspective or invites someone to notice something different in their thinking, feeling or behaviour. A question can be a form of action.
I sometimes think of such questions as like pebbles thrown into a pond. They disturb the surface and create a splash. The ripples spread and, for a moment, it can be difficult to see clearly. A carefully chosen question can unsettle something that previously seemed certain. It can bring thoughts, feelings, assumptions or possibilities into awareness that weren’t felt or visible before. And this is where the Action Learning set’s response becomes important. Do we immediately throw in another pebble? Or can we wait?
Silence can feel uncomfortable and we may be tempted to fill it. We may ask another question, offer an observation, provide an interpretation or try to help the person reach a conclusion. But perhaps, sometimes, the most helpful thing we can do is…nothing…and hold the space for something to emerge. If we allow the water to settle, a person may begin to see a reflection on the surface, or may notice what is hidden beneath it, or begin to see something that wasn’t there, or wasn’t visible, before.
Perhaps that is where the ‘Learning’ in Action Learning happens. Not necessarily in the question itself. Not necessarily in the answer. But in the space between the two. Of course, this isn’t always easy. When something has been stirred up inside us, our own perception and judgement can become clouded. We can feel a strong urge to resolve the uncertainty, regain our bearings and do something.
And yet Lao Tzu’s question offers a different possibility: Can we remain unmoving until the right direction arises by itself? For an Action Learning facilitator and peers, this may require patience, confidence and a willingness to resist the temptation to intervene. It may mean trusting the process. It may mean trusting the person. It may mean trusting God. It may mean trusting ourselves enough to tolerate not-knowing what will happen next.
I don’t think this means that we should always wait for perfect clarity before taking action. Sometimes it’s action itself that generates learning. But neither should we assume that movement is always progress. I’m reminded of these words by Ernesto Cardenal: ‘We are mirrors of God, created to reflect Him. Even when the water is not calm, it still reflects the sky.’ We don’t need the water to be perfectly still before a revelation is possible.
So, in Action Learning, perhaps the question isn’t only, ‘What question should I ask next?’ but: ‘What might become visible if I have the patience – and trust – not to ask it?’
