Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The Summit - A Youth Ministry Event



First, I have beard envy. Marko's beard is phenomenal in the above video.

The Summit is the latest venture from the guys at The Youth Cartel. Imagine a youth ministry version of TED:

A wide variety of remarkable speakers, all sharing stories and ideas around a central theme. Dozens of different ideas, plenty of minds and hearts gathering to dream together, and the Holy Spirit in the midst of it all, stirring up the pot. It's not just traditional youth ministry speakers; there are artists and CEOs and missions leaders alongside youth ministry voices.

Plus, it's incredibly affordable: $129 for group rate; $149 for individual.

It's in Atlanta this November 9-10, so it's kinda far for a guy in Arizona or on the west coast. But if you're interested in dreaming about the future of youth ministry and gathering with all sorts of awesome minds in the youth ministry world, grab a group of other youth workers and make it happen!

This isn't a paid endorsement. I don't even know if I'll be able to attend myself! But I love what Adam and Marko are doing, I love the freshness of this event, and I'd love to be in that room of dreamers come November.

Check out The Summit here. What do you think?

Monday, March 5, 2012

Why I Don't Tweet


Why aren't you on Twitter?

It's a question I've been asked often, probably due to my social networking habits. With its ability to gather hundreds of followers and share snippets of information as 140-character blurbs, Twitter forms the perfect trifecta of social networking alongside Facebook and blogging (sorry, Google+).

I don't have Twitter and I don't want it. Here's why:

Too much noise and distraction in my life. It's already hard for to be present with the people I love. With a laptop and iPhone, the amount of relational static caused by the Internet can be painfully overwhelming at times. My wife and I have to remind ourselves to put our phones away and simply be with each other and our children. Adding Twitter would only increase the noise, and might push my already-stretched sense of networking self-control over the edge into technology oblivion. Reminds me of the Portlandia skit below (click here if the video doesn't show up for you):



Too much temptation towards self-promotion. It already feels a bit weird to put my personal thoughts, stories, and opinions out there on the Internet. In my own insecurity, I desperately want to be liked by others, even if that just means my Facebook status or blog post was "liked." I imagine that Twitter would only fuel that fire for me, adding another way to evaluate and compare myself to others (Did people re-tweet my tweet? Did the popular Twitter user choose to follow me? Did he/she respond to my tweet directed to them?). In the writing and Internet world, there are plenty of strong voices encouraging us to build a platform and get a tribe of followers. The very image of a platform is to create my own tower and place myself on it so that I can be noticed by others. Didn't that already happen once, to a destructive end?

Too few ways to encourage. At times, Facebook and blogging can be truly beneficial for others. I've gotten enough feedback from friends, family, and complete strangers to know that (for me) these mediums are encouraging and thought-provoking. Something I wrote in a post or a status was used by the Lord to extend His grace to another human being. That completely baffles me, and I'm deeply humbled every time someone is blessed by my musings and stories. With Twitter, one has 140 characters to write a blurb, which ends up being a soundbite (noise) or a link URL to one's own blog post (self-promotion). It seems difficult to encourage and be encouraged when there's little in the way of depth or ongoing conversation. Perhaps I'm wrong on this one because I haven't experienced it; it's just how I feel, and I'm open to being corrected.

I don't have a cool custom blog design or my own URL (though I did purchase joelmayward.com about a year ago and just can't figure out what to do with it...so if you want to help me figure that out, email me here). I'm don't know how to write HTML or how to increase Google searches or how to create my own fonts or logos. That's not my gifting, my calling, or my passion. I love youth ministry, theology, church, movies, and Jesus. I also love writing, so I write about the things I love and post them in bloggy form and pray that someone is blessed and encouraged (even if it's just me).

Twitter users: do you agree or disagree on my three reasonings above? What have you found to be the pros and cons of using Twitter? Share in the comments.

You can't follow me on Twitter, but you can certainly follow the RSS feed for this blog. I'd also love for us to be Facebook friends.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Mayward Family Photos

Eloise. Look at those eyes. (Click to enlarge)
Our good friend, Rilie, is a fantastic photographer. We recently asked her to take some family photos now that we've got a new addition, and they turned out amazing. Copeland typically doesn't like getting his picture taken, but he genuinely had fun this time.
One happy family. (Click to enlarge)
So precious in her dress. (Click to enlarge)
Click here to see more pictures of the Mayward family. And if you ever need photos for anything--family, wedding, senior portraits, etc.--check out Rilie's website, Rilie Dee Photography.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Setting the Tone - How I Speak Matters as Much as What I Speak


A friend recently asked me of my opinion of Mark Driscoll, pastor at Mars Hill Church in Seattle. I replied that while I don't know the guy at all, my honest opinion of him isn't entirely positive. Now, I don't want to get into a blogging debate about Mark Driscoll or the neo-Reformed movement. But my friend's question made me wonder--why do some leaders rub me the wrong way, and others don't? Scot McKnight recently asked this question on his blog:
Why do statements and claims made by John Piper, Mark Driscoll and Albert Mohler set off such a barrage of emotions and visceral responses and bold counter-statements, but when Tim Keller, who basically believes the same things, teaches or writes similar things there is a completely different response? 
The answer is simple: It all has to do with tone.

Driscoll, et al. often have a tone of condescension, a sense of "I know I'm right on this one" that comes off as arrogant. Keller, on the other hand, is both firm in his convictions and quietly gracious in his tone. He comes off as humble, despite holding to some very conservative beliefs and saying fairly bold statements. These leaders have similar positions but very different postures.

How I speak matters as much as what I speak.


McLuhan put it one way: the medium is the message. Colossians 4 puts it this way: Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyoneMy communication should be wise, patient, and full of grace and empathy. 2 Timothy 4 speaks of correcting, rebuking, and encouraging with great patience and careful instruction. (Key phrase: with great patience.) James 1 tells us to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger.


If what I am saying to you is 100% true and beneficial for you, but my tone and posture are ones of judgment, condemnation, or self-centered frustration, then I am adding the static of arrogance to my message. I come across as quick to speak and anger, while forgetting the patience required for listening and being present. On the other hand, if my posture and tone are gracious and gentle, yet I cannot speak without conviction or truth, then perhaps my message isn't worth hearing in the first place.


In the ways you communicate--speaking, writing, preaching, etc.--what is your tone? Are people hearing your message, or are they losing it through the static?

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Thoroughly Showered

A pile of babies. Creepy, I know.

On Sunday, our church family hosted a baby shower for us.

Confession: I initially wasn't excited to be there. It was held directly after our church services, and right before I was to lead a two-hour missions team meeting that included talking with the parents about finances. I was tired, I was hungry, I had a lot on my mind, and "baby shower" isn't something that typically causes me to jump up and down with giddy anticipation. But I also know my wife, and I know that large crowds and lots of attention focused on her isn't really her thing at all.

So we went together. We sat on a couch in front of a large group of students, parents, and pastors. We faced the crowd while they watched a hilarious video made by the sophomore girls small group (a bit awkward for us, since we were sitting directly in front of the screen). We witnessed a game featuring high school and college guys attempt to put a diaper on a baby doll, resulting in a creepy pile of dolls at our feet. We heard from pastoral friends as they shared about children and parenting and love. Then we hung out a bit, cleaned it all up, and were on our way.

I know the above paragraphs sound a bit whiny. That's where I was coming from that afternoon. But here's the thing:

We left feeling deeply loved by our church family.

The actions at the baby shower ranged from the ordinary to the awkward. In and of themselves, it wasn't remarkable. Yet what struck me was the presence of people in our lives. Those who came truly love me, love my wife, and love our children. They gave us gifts. They played with my son. They held my daughter. They decorated our entire youth room, including the creation of a wonderful picture timeline of our lives. We laughed and joked and shared life. When I arrived back home after a long day of ministry, I finally saw the gifts and cards we had received. We're still reading through each of them, and are so blessed by everyone's kind words.

We're thankful. That word doesn't even really capture it, I suppose. People say "thank you" all the time for the most mundane acts of service. This was deeper for us. We are grateful for the love poured out for our little family, and humbled that we get to be a part of what God is doing in our church family.

So thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who showered us with love. Ezekiel 34 describes a God who showers us with blessing; Ephesians 1 says that He has lavished us with His grace. We feel throughly showered and lavished.

Our beautiful daughter.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Buck


The horse glides through the pasture, its rider calm in posture and a firm grip on the reins. The horse walks left, then right, then back left, then suddenly turns full circle and heads in a new direction. The rider appears to barely stir; his motions are so subtle that one wonders if he has some sort of psychic connection with the creature, a sort of extension of himself that moves with the horse. It is a marvel to watch.

Buck Brannaman is the rider, and he has a gift. He is the real-life "horse whisperer" (the one that inspired the Robert Redford film) and travels nine months out of the year doing 4-day clinics on horse training. As one character muses, "God had him in mind when He made the cowboy." He has a deep empathy for the animals and a strong desire to guide others into better horsemanship. You don't spend the majority of your life doing this sort of thing unless you love it. It's a calling, a vocation, and Buck is in his sweet spot.

Cindy Meehl's documentary follows Buck on the road as he travels from clinic to clinic, sharing both his unique approach to horse training and a bunch of life wisdom. Sometimes his family joins him--his daughter, Reata, seems to be his greatest delight in this world. He is still happily married and has a daughter who loves him, which is a rarity in our culture, and even more so for a man who travels this frequently. Yet they appear genuine enough; they really seem to be a happy, loving family.

This happiness is a far cry from Buck's upbringing. He and his older brother suffered severe abuse at the hands of his father. In a deeply affecting scene, Buck shares about having to reveal the evidence of the abuse to a school football coach. A local sheriff said, "we'll have no more of that," and promptly placed the boys in the hands of a foster family. The system didn't fail Buck; he was lovingly raised, and considers this family his home.

The wounds of abuse are still present, but they don't define Buck. He has overcome being a victim and chosen a better path. Rather than repeat the abusive tendencies of his father, Buck pursued emotional self-control and empathy. These two characteristics are vital to his way of horse training. Many other forms of training have some frightening parallels to abuse; a world of whips, metal bits, and severe behavior modification. Buck's approach is radically different. Rather than lead from a posture of power, he views it as a dance, showing respect to the horse he leads and graciously-yet-firmly guiding it along.

As a pastor and parent, I found Buck to be an inspiring look at a man who understands how to lead as a servant. He is pastoral in his approach, never yanking the reigns out of anger or impatience, yet also holding with a firm grip and a strong look in his eyes. He is quick to love the horse, patting it and speaking softly, always peering into the eyes and responding to what he finds there. I found his ways of leadership to be a perfect correlation with Edwin Friedman's "A Failure of Nerve." Buck leads with presence; his emotional wherewithal and confident-yet-humble posture allow him to mount (and ride) unmountable horses. He never allows himself to forget who is the horse and who is the rider, but he rides with a respect and care for the animal that it seems to understand. Buck knows himself--he knows the system of dysfunction from his past, has overcome it, and now thrives as a self-differentiated guide in the horse world.

I'm not a horse guy. Movies like War Horse and Secretariat simply have no draw for me. I respect and understand the folks who love horses, but I don't join them in their affection. Yet Buck is more than a film about horses; it is a film about humanity, about our past wounds, about our need for redemption. It is about reclaiming the call of creation care given in Genesis 1, yet striving to lead without becoming ensnared by sin. Any parent or pastor would be blessed to experience it.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Top 10 Movies about Movies


In light of the Oscars being this weekend (and the strong likelihood of either The Artist or Hugo walking away with a number of them), I present to you a top list of films about films. Movies about movies. Cinema about cinema. How very meta of me.

10. Son of Rambow (2007, Jennings): A group of British youngsters make their own version of Rambo in the summer of the 1980s. A charming and funny look at young friendship and childlike imagination.

9. King Kong (1933, Cooper): A classic that stands the test of time, the entire premise for Kong is a film crew trying to make a movie. While Peter Jackson's remake was an impressive visual feast, I still prefer the original from the '30s.

8. Adaptation. (2002, Jonze): Nicolas Cage plays Charlie Kaufman, who is attempting to adapt a non-fiction book into filmic form. Written by the real-life Kaufman, and directed by the creative auteur Spike Jonze, Adaptation is about as self-referencing as a film can get.

7. Super 8 (2011, Abrams): While the alien story arc in Super 8 can feel tangential at times, the real heart is in these kids who are making movies. Some of the best child acting I've seen in years; I wish there was a full version of the movie these kids make.

6. Ed Wood (1994, Burton): Burton's quirky biography of arguably the worst film director who ever made movies is both hilarious and affecting. Martin Landau won a well-deserved Oscar for his portrayal of an aging Bela Lugosi.

5. Hugo (2011, Scorcese): Set in a beautiful Parisian train station, Hugo is a journey into cinema's origins as a young boy and an elderly man's paths intertwine through their past wounds.

4. Sullivan's Travels (1941, Sturges): When a director tires of making the fluffy films the crowds crave, he sets off on a journey to understand poverty and the human condition. Veronica Lake is at her best here, and the film's spiritual implications are many.

3. Sunset Boulevard (1950, Wilder): A hack screenwriter and a fading star form a strange bond as they navigate the darker side of Hollywood. Norma Desmond's hubris and denial of reality are compelling to witness, and Wilder's darkest film is also one of his finest.

2. Singin' in the Rain (1952, Kelly and Donen): When a silent film production has make the transition into the "talkies," the change proves more difficult than imagined. I don't even really enjoy classic musicals, but I love Singing in the Rain. Filled with catchy songs, impressive dance numbers, and a wonderful romantic story, Gene Kelly's magnum opus is a delight.

1. 8 1/2 (1963, Fellini): Fellini's ninth film was a semi-autobiographical look at the ups and downs of success in the movie industry. When a film director must follow up his latest box-office hit, he struggles with the pressure of coming up with a new successful idea, as well as navigating all the various women in his life. Tons of creative imagery and dreamlike sequences, along with a thrilling climax in a circus ring, 8 1/2 is a wonderful tribute to the world of movies.

Honorable Mentions: Be Kind Rewind, Mulholland Drive, Lost in La Mancha, Tropic Thunder, The Artist, Day for Night, Best Worst Movie

What did I miss? Share them in the comments!

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Books I'm Digesting

With the birth of my daughter, I have not been reading as much as I'd like. My ever-growing stack of to-read books has been looming on my desk and bedside table. I'm still working through David Foster Wallace's The Pale King, and am about to begin Root and Dean's The Theological Turn in Youth Ministry and Walter Brueggemann's The Prophetic Imagination. Here's what I've been digesting lately:

The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God (Tim Keller): Keller's latest is class Keller: deeply theological, humble in tone, and filled with practical and life-transforming truths. My wife and I have been slowly working through it together, and I've begun going through it with various guys I mentor, both married and single. Tim and his wife, Kathy, have over 37 years of married experience that they bring to table, and they share their ideas with a humble and wise tone that is refreshing in this age of marriage tours and conferences. Based on a series of sermons Keller preached in the early 90s, the issues presented remain relevant and insightful as Keller works through the section in Ephesians 5 about marriage and Christ. Everything that Keller speaks/writes about comes back to the Gospel. Highly recommended.

A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix (Edwin H. Friedman): I try to avoid using hyperbole in reviews, but allow me this one: this is the best leadership book I've read in the past 5 years, and might be one of the best ever. The final book he wrote before passing away, Friedman's ideas about self-differentiation and our chronically anxious culture rings true. With chapter titles like "the fallacy of empathy," Friedman is sure to cause leaders to rethink their entire philosophy of influence. Friedman focuses on the self--how to have a clear presence and identity that is differentiated from the anxious masses, rising above dysfunction in order to redeem and transform. He uses a great deal of evolution and scientific language (a potential turn-off to more conservative evangelicals), but his insights are causing me to reevaluate not only my leadership, but my identity and sense of self. Every leader, from parents to pastors to presidents, should read this.

The Millennial Maze (Stanley Grenz): A balanced look at the various evangelical views of the millennium described in Revelation 20. Grenz puts his cards on the table in the introduction--he's amillennial--but presents each view with a clarity and equality that makes it simple to understand the differences without having a significant bias. He doesn't just compare and contrast; Grenz reveals the hermeneutical mindsets behind each view, as well as the prevailing worldviews they embody. If you're looking to learn more or revist your theology of the end times, this is a recommended resource.

What have you been reading lately?

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Blue Like Jazz: Official Trailer

The film version of Donald Miller's memoir is coming to the big screen April 13, but not before premiering at SXSW in Austin, TX. I got to see a pre-screening of the film this past fall, and was pleasantly surprised.

I have pretty high standards for films in general (one might label me a "film snob," which wouldn't be far from the truth), and I love Miller's books, so I really wanted to like the film. And I did. A lot. And this before the final sound production and editing. I loved that it wasn't a "Christian film." It's a film about a Christian. It's his story and struggles and the beautifully quirky characters that surround him. It's a bit irreverent in its humor (e.g. the girl using the men's urinal in the trailer). It rings far more true than many other overly-didactic films about faith. I'm eager to see the final product in April.

You can see the official trailer at Apple by clicking here, or check it out embedded below:

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Remember Well: Recalling Your Memories of Adolescence

At a wedding in 7th grade. Love the turtleneck.
Do you remember what it was like to be in junior high? In high school? In college?

I've found that most adults tend to block out this period of their life, choosing to recall vague notions of memories rather than specific moments on their timeline. Even when we can remember the specific events, it's even more difficult to recall the feelings and thought-processes we were experiencing. (E.g. in 7th grade, how did it feel to be rejected by that girl at the dance?) Yet these are some of the most life-shaping and important moments of our lives. Some of the decisions and experiences we have from junior high have truly defined us as adults.

Maybe it's a gift (or a curse) but I have some vivid memories of my adolescent experiences. I remember the anxiety, the insecurity, the idealism, the anger, the laughter, the desire to belong, the sense of loneliness, the sense of adventure, and everything in between. I remember screwing up a presentation in front of my sophomore english class, and having the entire class laugh at me, including the teacher and the girl I had a crush on. I remember climbing onto the roof of my hometown church with my friends, only to have the local neighbors call the police on us. I remember the first real crush I ever had--I blogged about it here, actually--and the feelings of rejection I experienced as a dorky 7th-grader.

I'm still fairly young, and perhaps these memories will fade over time. I hope they don't. I hope they foster a deep sense of empathy for the people I love and disciple. I hope my memories of adolescence will create emotional bridges with young people, relatable paths with signs that say, "I've been here, too." I don't want to project my own stories and experiences onto others--each individual story is uniquely shaped and structured--but I do want to remember well the feelings and experiences that shaped me into who I am today.

Remember well. It could make all the difference in your relationships.

From your teen years (ages 12-19), try to remember the following:

  • Your most embarrassing moment.
  • The first person you had a crush on.
  • The transition from junior high to high school.
  • Your three best friends. Who were they? What were they like?
  • Your favorite music/movies.
  • A time when you truly felt alone.
  • A time when you were filled with joy and excitement.
  • What was your relationship with your parents like? Your siblings?
  • Who were the three most influential people from this time period? A parent, a friend, a pastor, a teacher, a bully, etc.
If you're so bold, share a favorite memory in the comments. Maybe your story will help others remember.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Chronicle



Another "lost footage" film? Haven't we had enough of the shaky camerawork and first-person perspective? How many Paranormal Activity movies do we really need? And who keeps finding this footage? (They clearly have great editing technique and a lot of time on their hands.) Isn't the genre beginning to fade?

Then a little film like Chronicle comes along and reignites the genre's dying coals.

A teen-driven "lost footage" super hero film, Chronicle is the Carrie for the YouTube generation. The opening scene is a camera focused on a white bedroom door with a mirror attached. No cameraman is seen. An enraged voice screams through the door, suddenly pounding with ferocity. We learn that this is the voice of the drunken father of Andrew (Dane DeHaan), the lonely teen behind the camera. "I'm filming everything now," he quips. A social outcast, Andrew documents his life for...what? To have others finally see him? To keep a record of the wrongs committed against him? Because he's a bit of a film geek? All of the above?

Andrew's only friend is his cousin, Matt (Alex Russell), a popular senior with a penchant for quoting philosophy. Matt convinces Andrew to join him at a party--his first, it seems--and try to have some fun for once. The fun ends rather quickly for Andrew, who finds himself crying and alone in the woods outside the rave. Steve (Michael B. Jordan), the extremely popular and friendly senior class president candidate, finds Andrew and invites him to take his camera on an adventure. There's a hole sunk into the middle of a field deep in the woods. It's pulsing and humming, and they cannot see the bottom. Being teenage guys, Steve and Matt jump into the hole. Lighting the path with the glow of their iPhones and Andrew's camera, they discover something. Crystalline and glowing, the object emits a force so powerful that the camera goes black.

In the next scene, the three teens can make objects levitate with their minds.

What happened down in the hole? Who knows? Who cares? These guys can control things with their minds. It's called "telekinesis" (Matt looks it up on Google). If a group of teenage boys suddenly acquired super powers, what would they do?. The guys initial reaction: play pranks as they stretch their telekinetic muscles. It's typical teen boy stuff--throw stuff at each other, mess with people in department stores, play football at 10,000 feet, etc. This first half of Chronicle is a delight, with some genuinely humorous moments as the guys learn how to use their newfound powers. Steve is particularly warm and funny, well-liked by everyone both on- and off-screen. No wonder he's so popular. And no wonder Andrew isn't. He is brooding, awkward, and hostile. His constant filming puts him at a distance from others. Steve notes that the camera almost creates a barrier between Andrew and people. "Maybe I want a barrier," Andrew murmurs. His darker side is revealed when Andrew mentally slides a tailing truck right off the road into a river. As Matt and Steve frantically try to save the passengers and call the police, Andrew only continues to film, moodily muttering that it wasn't his fault.

Andrew is hurting. A drunken abusive father, a mother dying of illness, and a lack of friends and popularity all drive Andrew into dark and lonely places. Much of the film's perspective is told from his camera, which he learns to float and direct around him (a cool effect, and another new twist on the found footage genre). The camera becomes an extension of himself, a third eye with Andrew at the center of attention. Andrew is like any hurting teenager; he wants to be liked, to be understood, to find belonging, to have a sense of hope in the midst of a painful reality. The film is painfully absent of adults who are involved in these teens' lives. I wish Andrew had someone who was there for him, who loved him and could walk with him through the hurt. The adage rings true: hurt people hurt people. Imagine when that hurt teenager has telekinetic powers.

Filmmakers Josh Trank and Max Landis create some authentic teenage moments in Chronicle. The interactions between the teen guys feel genuine, and I think the entire film benefits from having a young cast and filmmakers; both Trank and Landis are 26-years-old, and the three lead actors give phenomenal performances, particularly DeHaan as Andrew. They've also used the found footage genre in a new way, offering a bit of a commentary on the YouTube generation's fascination with being on camera. From online confessions to the desire to go viral, we love putting ourselves out there on the Internet, hoping we get "liked." One female character in Chronicle has her own video camera for her personal blog. We see snippets of her footage throughout Chronicle, giving a creative second perspective on Andrew's viewpoint, as well as furthering the point that cameras are everywhere. As part of the climactic final scene--an impressive action sequence for a small indie film--Andrew mentally pulls dozens of camera phones out of bystanders' hands, creating a cluster of cameras that orbit him, documenting his every move. Like Andrew admits, our obsession with screens creates a barrier between us and the people in our lives. Is it possible to be fully present and fully authentic when I am documenting my every move?

Who is the hero of Chronicle? Who is the villain? A superhero movie surely must have these elements. Andrew commits some desperate and violent acts. But does that make him evil? Would I respond any differently, given his situation? Perhaps the villain of Chronicle is isolation. In feeling isolated from others, Andrew chooses--consciously or not--to further that spiral of isolation. He creates barriers that block intimacy, distrusts even when others try to help, and lashes out when confronted with the truth of his sinful actions. Like Adam in the garden, he chooses to hide, with only a hovering video camera for comfort. For all its wonderful connections and networks, the electronic world cannot fully save us from this isolation. We need Someone greater to save us even from ourselves.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Sharks and Fish

A large school of fish keeps their distance from some sharks. (ht to Karl Robertson via 22 words)
Is the picture above representative of how people respond when you come near?

On the one hand, I don't want to be a shark in my leadership. I don't want to devour or unnecessarily damage those I lead. I don't want to be intimidating and unapproachable.

On the other hand, good leadership often requires a leader to strike out alone, to rise above the crowds and masses. Edwin Friedman calls this self differentiation, and it can be a lonely existence. Friedman writes, "differentiation is the capacity to be one's own integrated aggregate-of-cells person while still belonging to, or being able to relate to, a larger colony." Differentiation is saying "I" when others demand "we."

Sharks are too self-involved and destructive to others, leading to intimidation and isolation.

Fish have no self, resolving to simply go in the flow of the strongest current, all while avoiding any risks or adventures.

Which one strikes a chord of sympathy with you: the shark or the fish?

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