The Nun and the Boy

She referred to him as a mystic;

some of his teachers thought he was day-dreaming.

She told him he was a good writer;

his rhetoric instructor nearly failed him.

She noted the details of the boy’s photographs that I had missed;

as she, too, was from another world.

Mystics see truths beyond the intellect;

in the way that artists reveal what the rest of us miss.

The encounter of which I am speaking is one I shall never forget.  On a cold, rainy day, surrounded by other women religious, the Nun and the boy were lost in their own mystical world, caught up in the mystery that enveloped their conversation but eluded the rest of us gathered around the table.  Slowly and with unforced deliberation, the Nun and the boy conversed, one photograph after the next.

“Who is the artist?” she said.  “From what part of Italy did he come?  Why is he your favorite?  And what has Botticelli taught you about composition in your own photographs?” 

With nods and murmurs too soft to hear, the boy responded as one mystic to another.  And it was from there that they continued their journey to a place where only mystics reside; that is, where there is truth beyond the reach of intellect in the same way that The Birth of Venus most surely spoke to Lorenzo de’ Medici in words that I cannot hear.

That was the beginning, the open door of their Begegnung, as Jewish mystic, Martin Buber, described it.  That interpersonal encounter between individuals that occurs in an atmosphere of mutual trust.  “All real life is meeting,” he said, in contrast to the more standard Vergegnung—a mismeeting or meeting that has gone wrong.  Vergegnung is more the norm among humans and, over time, Buber believed that we humans eventually develop a coat of armor to protect ourselves from such mismeetings.  And we do.

And Buber knew something about that armor.  When he was three, his parents suddenly separated.  Without notice or so much as a farewell, his mother left Vienna, and he recalled rushing to a balcony, desperately trying to catch his mother’s attention.  But she disappeared, without looking back.  A year later, at the age of four and in response to his question about his mother’s return, a neighbor made it clear in a matter-of-fact way:  “No, your mother is not coming back.”  Recalling that painful exchange later in his life, Buber noted that all that he had learned about the meaning of meeting and dialogue between people began from that moment.  Begegnung is what we crave in this Vergegnung world, which is why the encounter between the Nun and the boy is one that I shall always remember.

So what do Martin Buber, Sandro Botticelli, The Birth of Venus, and Lorenzo de’ Medici have to do with a blog on leadership? 

Buber was writing and Botticelli was painting at a time of enormous hope and opportunity.  Buber was writing in the early modern age when, like now, technology was to save the world.  Then the World War broke out, and 40 million deaths later, the evil side of advanced technology was revealed.  Like other Renaissance painters, Botticelli pointed us to that which was beyond sight; a pre-fermion glimpse into the world of mystics, artists, and dreamers. 

In both instances, Buber and Botticelli saw the world and its human relationships as they could be; as Begegnung, as meeting.  In the same way in which we become lost in genuine relationship or by becoming immersed in a piece of magnificent art or conversation, there is a mystical world around us that is inspiring and hope-full. 

It is not a place that exists in today’s “performance in the next quarter” corporate world, but it is a place that can exist in for-profit and not-for-profit organizations that are fundamentally committed to facilitating the creation of a healthy work culture where colleagues are also human, and where CEO’s can be exposed and vulnerable when one of their colleagues experience tragedy. “They are not workers,” one CEO asserted.  “They are my family.”  What a contrast to the Apprentice culture.

The environment this leader described is the kind of culture to which good colleagues want to belong; the kind of place in which they want to invest.  Creating a Begegnung culture is not easy.  It takes time, persistence, trial and error.  But there are a few critical steps leaders can take to facilitate that cultural maturation. 

1. Practice the four leadership virtues:
   1. Listening;
   2. Kindness;
   3. Big picture thinking;
   4. Truthfulness;
2. Consistent communication:
   1. Formal updates;
   2. Informal conversation;
   3. Personal Availability;
3. Transparency:
   1. Good teams need to know the game plan.

Yes, a competitive salary is necessary but, perhaps more importantly, a genuine feeling of belonging, purpose, and connection—Begegnung—is what keeps colleagues together, and is what will carry their organization—that culture—through the next inevitable downturn of fortune.