I say it a lot: the difference between what you know and what you do is practice. Many of my clients know what I know about effective meetings, what it takes to collaborate, and how they should behave. But, we all fall a bit short when it comes to the doing. Changing what you do involves practicing new skills and behaviors. Knowing what to do isn’t enough. Wanting to do it enough to practice and learn and be horrible at first – that’s a start. Then, you’ve got to know what to practice.

A friend sent me her latest video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EV7KXGZdTog (my apologies for the title!) of her work with the ancient South Indian practice called konnakol. I know a little about konnakol, and could demonstrate a very simplified version of it, but I couldn’t possibly do what Lori does in this video…yet. It would take hours and hours of practice, as in the old joke: A tourist in New York city asks a local: How do you get to Carnegie Hall ? The local answers: Practice. Because I’m a musician, I know just what to practice. But, I don’t want to learn konnakol at this level. I’d rather enjoy Lori’s performances. What I want to learn at this level is collaboration. Which got me to thinking: what skills would I need to practice to get to Carnegie Hall as a performer of collaboration? Listening, for sure. Being willing to join someone else – being influenceable as well as influential. Shifting my point of view without losing myself are the few that come to mind. I wonder what others think about this.

I can see us all at Collaboration Camp, off in the woods practicing the skills we need for our performance – like musicians running through scales and drills, practicing with a partner to find the gold disguised as hostility, hearing all that’s meant as well as what’s missing. We could be a virtual collaboration army – or an actual one.

I love that it’s not subject to control by anyone.  That, even though someone, somewhere decided to market the idea of teams, making what comes naturally subject to expert-itis and high consulting fees, not to mention the feeling that you need help – our help, my help – to do this, despite all that, the Collaboration Zone exists and waits for whoever wants to enter it.  I like it that the best collaboration comes out of what’s most authentic to those doing the collaborating.  I love that exact paradox:  That true collaboration is possible only when we are most authentically ourselves.   I have no idea what people mean when they say “There is no ‘I’ in team.”  There is a ‘me.’

The collaboration zone is a little wild – untameable.  It’s like playing music with other really good players.  Will you be good enough to fit in?  Will you clench and not be able to find the groove?  Or will it feel like diving into the pool does – the way the water reaches up to catch you, holds you up, makes swimming possible?  I like working right there – right at the nexus of anxiety and desire.  I like that there is no rule book, only guidelines and that things only go as well as the least present person in the room – unless there are enough of us to raise that person up and carry them along.  Best of all, I like it when a group of people who start out not listening, not really linked to each other, a little nervous or bored, click.  They talk faster, and listen harder and are moved by positions other than their own.  There is this magical moment when they become a single organism, moving together, contending, arguing, convincing, stopping to consider.  The air is brighter,  everyone looks happier and there is energy buzzing in the room.

I want everyone to know how to get themselves there, and to help a group get there.