Hello Imagining Change readers,
I learn so much from bedtime reading with my kids.
Like this week, in the book I’m reading with my nine year old about animal anatomy, I learned that shark skeletons are made of cartilage - not bone - the flexible bendy stuff that our noses and ears are made of. This is what makes sharks, these top ocean predators who have outlived the dinosaurs and plesiosaurs over the past 400 million years of shark species existence, lightweight and flexible in pursuing their prey, with tight turns and nimble movements that seem impossible for their size.
And they can do this for literal centuries - Greenland sharks can live at least 250 years. That means there are sharks swimming around the Arctic ocean waters today who were alive when the American Declaration of Independence was signed, and when treaties between the newly formed United States of America and the British colony of Canada established the borders that define the two countries today. What do the Greenland sharks have to say about how their quality of life has changed over the past centuries of swimming these waters?

Looking ahead, even looking present, at the chaos and uncertainty, the unthinkable things happening, the political instability and uncertainty in Canada & US, and in the relationship between the two countries that I belong to as a dual citizen, there is no managing change or going through a process of change to arrive at some fixed point. Change is a fast moving current around us, and our challenge is to find ways to flow with it, to “cultivate a culture of change resilience” as change management thought leader Paul Okoye recently put it.
That is the leadership call to action of this moment - to cultivate change resilience to be adaptable as people and as organizations, churches, institutions and groups of all kinds. The changes are happening faster than we can anticipate, and what is in our hands is our capacity to rise to the moment, to respond to what is asked of us, and know when to hold steady and when to bend, twist, shift, and when to sink deep and stay in the still, dark waters, to endure. Sometimes we get to choose that and sometimes we don't.
I feel sometimes that everything is vibrating around me, like a car that is out of alignment or an unbalanced washing machine. Things are running but there is a sense of fragility to it, a feeling of flux. Those moments I have to go ground myself in something real and tangible - a meal at a friend’s home, or piling up on the couch with my family watching something silly. Watering a plant, folding laundry. Reading books about animal anatomy at bedtime.
In one of the many new articles I’ve read in the last few weeks on Canadian politics and the fortunes of the Liberal Party on why someone would run for the Liberal Party leadership in a grim political moment for the party, the commentator surmised that some leadership candidates have a very powerful sense of self-efficacy to make things happen, to change things, to rally people together and move the needle on complex issues. Perhaps this same tendency can lead to blind spots when unchecked, but is a potent reminder of the power of confidence and vision.
One of the key signs of burnout that shows up for me is when every possible solution seems too hard or too complicated, or doomed to fail. It's easy to feel that way right now - but I dream of the self-assuredness of these politicians who believe that they can be different, lead differently, set a different trajectory. Because it's not possible unless we have the courage to try.
Perhaps the key to leading, really, to just living, in these fluctuations of change is to be adaptable but also courageous. Strategic, but also naively ambitious enough to believe that it's possible to change trajectories, to set new courses. Holding onto the vision that a different way of being is possible. Because where will we be if we don't keep dreaming and imagining, and trying messy, imperfect solutions?
So this week I’m thinking more about sharks than I ever have in my mostly inland life, thinking about how to hold flexibility and strength together, endurance and adaptability that keeps on making tight turns as we navigate the sea currents of change.
Tending Tomorrow book news and some Harrisonburg, VA love
My last speaking event of the year was at Shalom Mennonite Congregation in Harrisonburg Virginia. Thank you to my sister-in-law Charlotte Shristi and pastor Georgia Metz for the warm welcome. This capped off sixteen Tending Tomorrow related speaking events in the past six months!
While in Harrisonburg I also stopped into the cosy and eclectic indie book store Parentheses Books in downtown Harrisonburg. If you’re in the area, check them out for a wander and an in-store copy of Tending Tomorrow. And then go across the street to the Frame Factory and check out the intergenerational D&D art exhibit up there right now.
Finally, thanks again to everyone taking the time to leave stars and reviews on book review sites including Goodreads and StoryGraph.
So honoured by this recent review from Terry Swan:
I loved this book. It is well researched and weaves the author’s own story in beautiful and lyrical ways. Any book where the author owns that the work of relearning their history “exhausting and uncomfortable”, is a true testament to the work it takes to make change in a perilous world. Her articulation of seeking wisdom from the forest, respect for and honour of Indigenous oral traditions and histories are apparent. In this changing time, she provides hope for the next seven generations and calls us to action, specifically to create pathways to healing ourselves, communities and the planet.
Until next month!
-Leah RK