The reason I wrote the bus driver quandary is because I think my own pull-over-the-bus moment might be emerging.
I’ve been receiving conversations and input lately that are inviting me to participate in a conversation I’m not sure how to have, and yet it’s one that could have a potentially positive impact. It’s also one that could potentially jostle some passengers.
I think of how I’m equipped to lead: I know the toolset of co-creation and facilitation, creating safe spaces for dialogue and discussion. I’m a communicator and a clear speaker. I can play a role here that helps.
And yet what occurs for me is: fear. I used to be a passenger on this bus, before I was the driver. What the other passengers told me is that stopping the bus for situations like this was a recipe for disaster. It might crash.
And yet, I’m working hard to revisit and challenge old narratives. It’s time for new stories. Stories that value listening, hearing, seeing with new eyes. Living out love. Not living from fear. Stories of compassion. Drawing wider circles. I want to choose that.
I wonder if I can.