Smudge and Fig Preserves, the Cultural Connection at Work

As a consultant with a strong undercurrent of Type A, I find great satisfaction in “the do.” Checklists checked, calls completed, emails sent/deleted, deliverables submitted. Done is a delightful feeling.

However, over the 1.5 years of COVID-crazy I felt like my focus on done became all consuming. As if the more I did would make me feel better; but it didn’t. The satisfaction of complete became the burden of more. More, more, more. I lost sight of the why and missed the joy of the being – especially from the energy of team collaboration. The remote environment seemed to have restricted the connectional side of work in many ways.

Upon this realization, I became deliberate in how I began my latest project which included a partnership with a Native American small business. I wanted to focus on the why, be smart about how we used our time together, and be culturally sensitive. I wanted to put connection front and center of the work.

You see our team’s diversity was significant – DC “beltway bandits,” some PhDs, and Tribal members all working to improve health care for American Indians/Alaska Natives. To support this, we received historical training, word sensitivity workshops, and candid first-hand accounts of cultural nuances. The emersion was great and terrifying. The more I knew, the more I realized there was so much I didn’t know or understand. My lens to life was different. And while that difference is OK – my life is my life – I began to realize how many blind spots I had that could impact the effectiveness of my work. More than anything I didn’t want to produce anything that would offend or do harm to the initiative. For a while I pulled back into listen mode, a bit afraid. Then I found some courage to take steps to move forward and learn. I did this to get more comfortable so that I could really apply my expertise in an appropriate and impactful way. My sitting on the sidelines did not help the cause.

I started by privately connecting with a woman on the project to better understand something done during our weekly team meeting – smudging. At the end of our meetings, her husband would bless us while fanning a giant bird feather over burning, smoking dried plants. He always began with “Grandfather spirit.” The blessing was less prayer and more a setting of intention. A request that the spirit help us be true to our word and compassionate in our actions as we served the community in our work. To be vividly aware of the world and space in which we work. The centering practice provided a calming way to anchor us to our work and take a moment to breathe together as a team before we scattered our separate ways onto another Teams call. My teammate Anna answered my questions and in doing so created a safe space for me to ask and learn more.

The website Indigenous Corporate Training states, “Smudging is traditionally a ceremony for purifying or cleansing the soul of negative thoughts of a person or place. There are four elements involved in a smudge:

  • The container, traditionally a shell representing water, is the first element.
  • The four sacred plants (cedarsagesweetgrasstobacco), gifts from mother earth, represent the second element.
  • The fire produced from lighting the sacred plants represents the third element.
  • The smoke produced from the fire represents air, the fourth element.”

Fast forward a few months, and Anna learned my mother had open heart surgery. She mailed me four types of smudge to support her recovery:  sweet grass braid, golden sage, traditional sage, and pine picked from her yard. In turn, I sent back a jar of homemade fig preserves that I made with my mother, from figs picked from her yard. Homemade food, a southern tradition, to show love and provide comfort.

This is the real “do” that matters in work. The forging of relationships, the learning, the collaboration, the connection – all of which makes the work better and the journey richer.

Leadership: Understand & Articulate Your Boundaries

I have a standing “girls chat” with a co-worker each month. It’s a time when we open up our professional closet and haul out our dirty laundry and miscellaneous items we don’t know what to do with but can’t let go of. There is a lot of validation, active listening, hard questions, and resource swapping – from articles to people in our network – that occurs in our chats. These chats aren’t about solutions or fixing the other person, but rather the camaraderie of two travelers on a career journey. While the information is helpful and the laughter is great, it’s the companionship that offers a soothing balm that keeps me coming back.

Boundary Types

Over the past few months many of our conversations ended up touching on boundaries. In a summer chat, she mentioned buying the book Set Boundaries, Find Peace: A Guide to Reclaiming Yourself. Candidly, I’ve never thought I had an issue with boundaries. In fact, my family and friends will tell you I’m pretty stubborn, that I know my limits/needs, and I’m not one to “convince” into something. However, when I investigated the book, I noted that it covered six types of boundaries:

  • Physical
  • Sexual
  • Intellectual
  • Emotional
  • Material
  • Time

I’d never thought in terms of “types” of boundaries—just that you had them, or you didn’t. The book offered “tips on how to uphold personal limits” and this terms gave me pause for how I think of boundaries. The author, Nedra Tawwab, writes, “But what do ‘healthy boundaries’ really mean—and how can we successfully express our needs, say ‘no,’ and be assertive without offending others?”

As I thought about what the book had to offer, my girls chat discussions, and my shallow understanding of boundaries, I quickly added the book to my Audible library. (Note: if a book’s not your thing, check out her blog which is filled with one-page nuggets of insight.)

Set Boundaries, Find Peace: A Guide to Reclaiming Yourself helped me better understand the complexities around boundaries. That my boundaries can be solid, Jello, or missing all together depending on the area. I also realized that what I use to define as wants/needs – which I could dismiss if they were broken by others – should be rethought of as a more formal boundary. I appreciate that Nedra gives readers examples of how take a concept (or need) and convert it into a clearly articulated boundary statement. There is tremendous power is being able to state a boundary and define what is essential for you to be the best you.

Listen for Boundaries

Additionally, listening to her state various types of boundary examples in each chapter helped me be a better boundary listener. Hearing her state them, helped me more easily hear when someone is setting one with me. In fact, not long after finishing the book, I went to get a pedicure. I was in a new spa and just as the massage began a patron walked over to the woman next to me and began a loud, on-going conversation through her mask. After a while, I asked staff to stay something but they were unsuccessful. So, I did with an “excuse me, but you’re really loud” comment. The woman immediately stopped and walked out. The following day, the spa owner texted me to ask that I not come back based on the incident. She explained that her business was not a spa but a social environment, and she stood up for her customers who wanted that experience. She shared the boundary of her business. In listening to her, I reflected on how I missed defining my own need as a choose a spa to try: a relaxing quite pedicure to unwind from weeks of work Zoom calls and treat my runner’s toes. I also realized that when I spoke to the patron I didn’t express myself well but rather made it about her, which wasn’t fair. Rather than feel attacked (a likely pre-book response), I thanked the owner for clarifying the boundaries of her business. I also told her if I knew folks who wanted a social spa I’d refer them. I didn’t want her worried I’d be a vindictive customer. We ended on positive terms with boundary clarity.

Here’s to our improved ability to claim, communicate, and support boundaries – ours and others.