The AI wave feels brand new. The problems underneath it don’t. AI’s rapid advances are reshaping how work gets done, what’s possible, and how fast the future arrives. Yet under all that novelty sits something stubbornly familiar. Alignment. Behavior change. Decision quality. Adoption. These are the age-old challenges that have defined organizational life for decades. They’re not new problems; AI is simply putting them under a brighter, hotter light.

Many of the rituals and structures we rely on were inherited, not designed—remnants of Taylorism and top‑down models, with a dash of military metaphor thrown in for good measure. Think about how often we hear terms like action items and ammunition for a pitch. Even if we didn’t consciously lift these patterns from the factory floor or the command center, they’ve seeped in. We carry them from role to role, re-enacting them in new environments where they’re ill‑fitted to knowledge work, creativity, and human-centered problem solving.

Over the last decade, many teams began the long, important shift toward human-centered work. That project isn’t finished. Meanwhile, AI has changed the context around us: more inputs, more interdependencies, and far faster cycles. The result is a tangle of legacy habits, incomplete cultural transformation, and a new force multiplier. The fundamentals of good facilitation and design of team systems still apply. What’s different now is the cost of not applying them.

Speed scales the chaos

What’s truly new about AI is the speed of change and the compounding nature of its effects. The “fast follower” posture that was viable for past technology shifts doesn’t work here. If you wait for standards to stabilize, you’ll miss months (or years) of capability building your competitors are banking. Learning has to become a core organizational muscle, not an initiative. The window between early adoption and obsolescence is narrowing.

Speed can be a gift. AI-enabled teams can spin up prototypes in hours, synthesize complex inputs in minutes, and ship with tighter feedback loops. But speed is neutral—it accelerates whatever it touches. Apply AI to a broken handoff and you don’t fix the handoff; you scale the chaos. Take a siloed process and add automation and you don’t remove the silo; you create automated isolation. The same reinforcing loops that can catapult a healthy system can drive a fragile one to failure.

We often used to meet teams with what we called a leaky faucet problem. Yes, it dripped. Yes, everyone noticed. But you could manage it with a bucket and some tape. You could hide the waste in the margins. AI turns that drip into pressure. It builds behind the surface until one day the levee breaks. What was tolerable friction becomes an existential constraint. When a small leak scales, “business as usual” screeches to a halt.

This is why so many leaders and facilitators are feeling the urgency right now. The problems aren’t new, but their consequences arrive faster and ripple further. It’s no longer sufficient to “know about” the leak; you need to find it, fix it, and redesign the system so you don’t spring another one two steps downstream. If you do this well, AI becomes a amplifier for clarity, flow, and value creation. If you don’t, it scales confusion.

Speed with intention

If speed is neutral, cadence is how we give it purpose. Think of AI as a highly capable teammate that can sprint faster than anyone on your roster. The job of the facilitator is to design the practice field where that speed pays off and doesn’t run the team ragged. That means deliberately alternating between fast and slow modes: call on AI to generate or synthesize quickly, then slow down together to react, refine, and align.

Live synthesis is a superpower here. Many teams lack a consistent, fast synthesis muscle. Even strong synthesizers vary with energy, time of day, and workload. AI can provide a reliable baseline in the moment—capturing themes, options, and decisions while context is warm—so the team can react rather than rehash. You get the benefits of working “while the clay is wet,” without over-relying on a single person’s bandwidth.

Visible work becomes essential in this new cadence. Text alone is too linear and narrow for the complexity we’re navigating. Visual maps, canvases, and blueprints help teams create a shared reality—one that humans and AI can reference. If it’s ambiguous to a colleague, it will be ambiguous to your AI teammate. Tools like Miro let you turn a messy conversation into a shared model in real time; then you can hand that model to AI for targeted processing, scenario generation, or risk identification.

There’s also a delightful side effect: good prompting is just good communication. Teaching teams to brief AI with clearer intent, constraints, and success criteria is the same skill that improves human collaboration. We’ve seen groups adopt prompt hygiene—defining terms, naming assumptions, clarifying audience—and, almost by accident, elevate their everyday cross-functional dialogue. AI becomes a mirror for your clarity. What confuses the model often confuses your colleagues, too.

Ways of Working Assessment

This month we’re spotlighting the Ways of Working Assessment because it delivers what March’s theme demands—a fast, focused way to surface leaks, align on fixes, and set a foundation where AI enhances rather than amplifies dysfunction. If you haven’t seen it yet, watch the quick overview: https://vimeo.com/899513366?share=copy&fl=sv&fe=ci

At its core, the assessment inventories how work actually gets done today. We capture the real rituals, decision rules, handoffs, briefs, and artifacts—not the idealized SOP version sitting on a wiki. We’re looking for two things: the healthy patterns to elevate and scale, and the bottlenecks or ambiguities that drive rework downstream. Artifacts like service blueprints and journey maps emerge, but they’re fed by lived experience, not theoretical flowcharts.

A simple shift unlocks rich insight: instead of asking “How does onboarding work here?” we ask “Walk me through the last time you onboarded someone.” Memory is sticky; it surfaces the tacit steps, workarounds, and unwritten rules that never make it into a process doc. We follow the timeline—who was involved, what was unclear, where the delays crept in, why the handoff failed—and we capture it visually so the whole team can see the same movie, not argue about the script.

From there, we prioritize together. Which one practice, if upgraded now, would reduce the most downstream rework? What would visible progress look like in two weeks? Where does AI belong in this flow—as a teammate, as a co-pilot, or not at all? This is where we start distinguishing human-in-the-loop moments, AI-augmented steps, and no-fly zones. The outcome isn’t a binder; it’s a shortlist of prototypes that teams can try immediately, with crisp measures of success. Culture lives in practice, so we practice differently—on purpose, in small loops that compound.

Three leverage shifts

First, establish a roles and rituals charter that includes your AI teammates. Don’t bolt AI onto your old structure; integrate it into your system intentionally. Identify the core moments in your value stream—discovery, synthesis, decision, handoff, quality—and define who or what leads, who consults, and who validates at each step. Be explicit about what AI does and why. For example: “During weekly intake, AI generates a first-pass classification of requests and a risk heatmap; the PM adjusts classification and confirms risk with Legal for anything flagged above medium.” That level of clarity reduces ambiguity and builds trust.

Second, operationalize decision clarity using consent-based methods. In fast-moving contexts, decisions get stuck between consensus and command. Try consent: “Is it safe enough to try for now, and can we revisit soon?” Pair it with clear decision types (reversible vs. irreversible), a lightweight advice process, and crisp roles (driver, approver, consulted, informed). Write your decision rules down as prompts and checklists. AI can help here by generating the initial decision brief, listing trade-offs based on your criteria, and drafting communication to stakeholders. But you must define the guardrails: where human judgment is required, what risks are unacceptable, and who owns the outcome.

Third, make synthesis and visualization a live team habit. Don’t wait for someone to write a recap doc later. During meetings, have AI capture themes and open questions while a facilitator maps the conversation visually. Close with a quick team review: what’s missing, what needs correcting, what decision is ready now versus what requires another loop. Embed a short “make it visible” cadence into your rituals: if a decision isn’t on the map, it’s not a decision. If a next step isn’t in a public tracker, it’s not a next step. AI is excellent at formatting and distributing these artifacts instantly; your job is to ensure they reflect what the team actually agreed to.

All three shifts share a pattern: intentionality beats intensity. You don’t need to work faster for speed to pay off—you need to work clearer. By formalizing how humans and AI collaborate, you reduce churn, increase throughput, and create artifacts that compound learning. Your team will feel the difference quickly. Meetings stop being places we “talk about work” and start being places we “make work visible and move it forward.”

Measuring what matters 

One of the most reliable ways to break free from legacy habits is to change what you measure. If you’ve been tracking only output (tickets closed, campaigns launched), start tracking flow. Lead time from idea to value. Work in progress per person. Rework rate after handoff. Decision cycle time for reversible versus irreversible calls. These measures surface the invisible friction you’ve tolerated for years and, critically, show whether your new rituals are paying off in days, not quarters.

Set up small reflection loops to create exponential gains. At the end of each sprint or milestone, run a brief retrospective: what worked, what didn’t, what will we try next between now and the next loop? Bring AI into that loop deliberately. Have it extract patterns from your sprint artifacts, flag recurring blockers, and propose two or three lightweight experiments. The team then chooses, adjusts, and commits. Next loop, you measure the difference in flow metrics and decide whether to adopt, adapt, or abandon. This is how practice compounds over time.

As you mature, think system-wide, not just individual or team-level. We often describe an AI maturity path that starts with individual use (personal productivity), progresses to co‑piloting within teams (pairing AI with core roles), evolves to AI teammates embedded in workflows, and culminates in systemic use where cross-functional processes, data, and governance align. Each stage demands new agreements: where humans must remain in the loop, what the no‑fly zones are for AI, how you audit outputs, and how you escalate issues of bias, privacy, or safety.

Governance shouldn’t be a blocker; it should be an enabler. Lightweight policies that clarify purpose and boundaries give teams confidence to experiment. Templates for risk assessment, model selection, prompt hygiene, and result verification help busy managers make good calls quickly. Training facilitators to guide these conversations—mapping the work, designing the cadence, making the trade-offs explicit—is how you steadily raise the organization’s capacity to move at the new speed without breaking.

Closing the gap

The big idea of March can be summed up this way: the problems are old, the speed is new. The fundamentals of how people align, decide, and create together haven’t changed. What’s changed is the tempo and scale at which consequences arrive. That means the gap that matters most is the one between knowing and doing. Everyone knows where the leaks are. The teams who win will be the ones who fix them first and redesign their systems so speed serves them, not the other way around.

If you do one thing this month, run a mini Ways of Working Assessment with your team. Start small. Pick a critical flow, like intake to delivery or discovery to decision. Map the last time you did it together. Find one leak you can patch that would reduce the most downstream rework. Define the role of AI in that moment, teammate, co‑pilot, or no‑fly, and write the decision rule that goes with it. Make the change visible. Measure the impact in two weeks. Then iterate. These steps take hours, not months, and they create artifacts you can reuse and scale.

When you design cadence on purpose, AI stops being a source of overwhelm and becomes a source of momentum. You’ll find yourself moving faster where it matters and slower where it counts. You’ll see ambiguity shrink as your team’s shared models get clearer. You’ll feel meetings transform from status theatre into decision engines. And as your practices compound, you’ll notice something else: the same clarity that makes your AI prompts better will make your cross‑functional collaboration better. That’s the kind of win that compounds quarter after quarter.

You already know where the friction is. The Ways of Working Assessment gives you a structured way to surface it, prioritize it, and prototype something better – fast. Watch the overview, block 60 minutes with your team, and let’s get to work.

The post Problems Are Old Speed Is New appeared first on Voltage Control.

When Douglas took the stage to open the 8th Annual Facilitation Lab Summit, he did so with a question rather than an agenda: What becomes possible at the edge?

It was the right question for the moment. Over two days, facilitators from across the country gathered to explore what it means to work at the boundaries — where pressure meets reality, where comfort gives way to growth, and where the most meaningful facilitation happens. Douglas framed the experience with a line from Leonard Cohen: “There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” That metaphor of cracks, edges, and light anchored everything that followed.

A note on this year’s summit: AI was present in ways it hadn’t been before. Sponsored by Miro, the event showcased how AI tools are reshaping the way we design and deliver experiences — at one point, an AI-generated landing page summarizing a live session appeared in real time. It was impressive, and it raised a question that ran quietly beneath the entire two days: if AI can generate the content, the agenda, even the design, what is left for us? The answer that emerged, session by session, was clear. What’s left for us is presence — the human capacity to read a room, hold tension, and choose what happens next. People won’t remember the activities. They’ll remember how they felt.

Day 1: Edges, Emergence, and the Courage to Stay

Unlocking Collective Brilliance in Turbulent Times — Dan Walker

Dan Walker opened the summit with a session on unlocking collective wisdom in service of a more just and joyful world. His central reframe — from conflict resolution to conflict engagement — set a tone of productive discomfort that would carry through the day. He explored the tension between the urgency of now and the patience required for generational change, surfacing the idea of manufactured urgency: how constant pressure can become an excuse to avoid deeper work.But what stayed with the room was his insistence on centering joy. In conversations about turbulence and justice, joy can feel almost out of place. Dan pushed back on that. Sustaining ourselves, he argued, is not indulgent — it is strategic. We are only good to the work if we remain part of it. He offered a phrase that lingered well past his session: “It is a gift to be raggedy.” Imperfect, in-process, unfinished. Maybe that’s not something to fix. Maybe, as the summit’s framing suggested, it’s simply where the light gets in.

Recalibration and the Paradox of Authentic Facilitation — Renita Smith

Renita Smith explored one of the deepest tensions in our practice: staying true to yourself while holding space for what the room needs. Using the metaphor of Hamilton’s set design — a stage that must expand and contract to hold the story while staying out of the way — she offered a simple but powerful framework for navigating that tension:

Expand — with presence, authority, and direction when clarity is needed.
Contract — with silence, witnessing, and the release of ego when emergence is happening.

Her practical framework: Notice. Name. Invite. Notice what your senses are picking up. Name what the room already feels. Invite courage, because your courage becomes the room’s permission.

Navigating the Unknown — Chris Lunney

Chris Lunney guided participants through sense-making using a deceptively simple model: head, heart, and hand. The heart as compass. The head tracing the map. The hands affecting reality. He reminded us that “in nothingness, there is potential” and encouraged tiny experiments — small, trackable actions taken without judgment, treated simply as data.

In a summit that had already surfaced the pace of technological change, this session deliberately slowed things down, creating space to feel alignment before rushing into action.

Facilitating Innovation at the Edge of Certainty — Shannon Hart

Shannon Hart re-energized the room in the afternoon, literally — participants stood, moved tables, and took the conversation outside. Her session challenged one of facilitation’s most embedded assumptions: that consensus is always the goal. In some cases, she argued, consensus actively hinders innovation. The facilitator’s role is not to drive the group toward agreement, but to create the conditions where something new can emerge.

Her key guidance: slow the rush to certainty, protect the quiet sparks who need more time to process, and stay in the “groan zone” longer than feels comfortable. Creating the conditions — not controlling the outcome. That phrase closed out Day 1 and echoed into the evening, where many attendees extended the conversation over dinner long after the sessions had ended.

Day 2: Voice, Light, and the Rooms We Create

DJing the Room — Joe Randel

Joe Randel opened Day 2 with a session that quickly became one of the summit’s most talked-about. Framing facilitation through the lens of DJing, he laid out two foundational tracks.

Track 1: Find your voice. Preparation. Repertoire. Practice. Interpretation. Two facilitators can run the exact same design and produce completely different experiences. The difference isn’t the framework — it’s the voice behind it. In a world where AI can generate the agenda and the slides in seconds, voice becomes our competitive advantage: tone, timing, humor, instinct, the lived experience we bring into the room.

Track 2: Read the room. Preparation gives you options. Presence tells you which one to choose. The room is alive. Your plans aren’t.

He then described three types of transitions every facilitator navigates: Cut — close the moment and move forward with clarity. Blend — weave what’s emerging into what comes next. Let it end — stay with what’s unfolding, even if it disrupts the plan. Participants practiced these with real scenarios, and the result was illuminating: each facilitator chose differently. No single correct answer. Voice shapes choices.

Illumination — Brian Buck

Brian Buck extended the summit’s central metaphor through an exploration of facilitation identity, offering three distinct orientations:

Ember: Tend my fire.
Kindle: Tend the firebox.
Illuminate: Tend the spark.

He described his own practice as “presence illumination” — not about answers, but about the human beings who carry them. The invitation he left with participants: what might be illuminated through your presence in the room?

The Body Knows — Robin Neidorf

Robin Neidorf brought the afternoon into the body. Working with yoga as her central metaphor, she guided participants through partner exercises sensing energy fields and, in one of the summit’s more memorable moments, through silent eye contact in groups of two, three, four, and five — experiencing firsthand how group size shifts the energy of a room.

Pairs felt vulnerable. Triads felt creative but slightly unstable. Groups of four felt productive. Five introduced diffusion. It was a visceral, embodied demonstration of something facilitators often sense but rarely examine directly. Many participants said afterward they wouldn’t think about breakout group formation the same way again.

Safety at the Edge — Trudy Townsend

Trudy Townsend centered the afternoon on trauma-informed facilitation, grounding the conversation in a layered definition of safety: physical, psychological, social, moral, and cultural. Her core argument was direct — facilitator regulation shapes the room. It is our responsibility to show up regulated, and to remain present enough to hold the space we’re creating.

She also centered empowerment through agency: ask people what they need. Safety isn’t assumed; it’s co-created. And the edges we hold as facilitators are not always theoretical. Sometimes they are deeply embodied realities for the people in the room.

Closing

Eric closed the summit with the poem he returns to each year, ending on the line: “Your edge of darkness is an edge of light.” He reframed edges not as cliffs, but as shorelines — places to stand, to look out from, and to stay long enough to see what might emerge.

The room responded with a standing ovation. It was a fitting close to two days that consistently asked facilitators to do what we ask of others: stay at the edge, hold the discomfort, and trust that presence — not tools, not templates, not technology — is what makes the work meaningful.

Summit Awards

We were proud to honor members of the Facilitation Lab community whose work exemplifies the transformative power of facilitation. The 2026 award recipients are:

Community Award — Reshma Khan This award recognizes alumni who have gone above and beyond to foster connection and collaboration within the facilitation community. Reshma embodies what it means to meaningfully bring people together — in Kenya and worldwide. She has been instrumental to the growth of our Facilitation Lab community over the past year, building bridges across geography and background with quiet, consistent dedication.

Impact Award — Cat Rodriguez The Impact Award honors facilitators whose work has made a meaningful difference in the lives of others — through organizational change, team empowerment, or addressing societal challenges. Cat has brought extraordinary impact through her work at the Anti-Defamation League and beyond, embodying what it means to hold courageous space for the justice conversations we must have.

Growth Award — Brian Buck The Growth Award celebrates alumni who have shown remarkable personal and professional development since completing the certification program. Brian has made extraordinary leaps in both his internal and external growth. As he has built from within, he has simultaneously built externally at Progressive — charting a path toward a facilitation center of excellence that creates growth at scale.

Innovation Award — Chris Lunney This award celebrates alumni who have demonstrated exceptional creativity and forward-thinking in their facilitation practice. Chris has led much of our work bringing facilitation into this AI future — guiding and modeling what it looks like to collaborate with AI as a teammate, and asking the essential questions along the way.

These four facilitators represent the best of what our community is becoming — and we were honored to celebrate them.

Key Takeaways

• Presence — not tools or design — is the facilitator’s deepest competitive advantage in an age of AI.
• Conflict engagement, not resolution, allows groups to do more honest and generative work.
• Joy and sustainability are strategic, not indulgent.
• Voice shapes experience. Two facilitators, same design, completely different rooms.
• Safety is layered, co-created, and often more embodied than we assume.
• Creating the conditions matters more than controlling the outcome.

Join the Community and Stay Connected

Although the summit has ended, the journey doesn’t have to stop here. Continue engaging with facilitators from around the world through our Community Hub. Share resources, exchange ideas, and keep the momentum going!

Join the Community Hub

Looking Ahead to the 2027 Summit

Stay tuned for early bird tickets and announcements for next year’s summit. We’ll see you at the edge.

Get 2027 Tickets Now

Thank you to everyone who made Facilitation Lab Summit 2026 a success. We can’t wait to see you next year as we continue to inspire, engage, and transform through the power of facilitation.

The post Facilitation Lab Summit 2026 appeared first on Voltage Control.

I didn’t always have the language for what I was doing. But when I think back, I can see the early threads. They run through every phase of my career, especially during my decade at National Instruments, where I led teams building robotics platforms for kids in partnership with LEGO. These tools were designed to introduce young minds to science and engineering through graphical programming. It was deeply technical work, but also creative and collaborative. And most importantly, it was human-centered. The kids were our end users, and that meant we had to think differently. We had to step into their world.

I still remember cutting holes in pizza boxes, duct-taping together prototype hardware, and building touchable experiences so we could test usability with kids in classrooms. There was something magical about those messy, hands-on sessions. We were collaborating with designers from LEGO, building empathy for little hands and chaotic play styles. I didn’t realize it at the time, but those moments were my first real taste of facilitation—guiding a group through ambiguity toward something that mattered.

Later, while leading the product team for NI’s academic tools, I ran into a new kind of challenge: distributed product development. Our software came from Austin and Shanghai. Our hardware from Penang and back. Everyone was doing great work, but it wasn’t adding up. It felt like we were all laying tracks from different directions, hoping they’d connect. So I brought the global team together. We simulated the full user experience—hardware, guides, software, and personas—in one big room. We roleplayed unboxing, onboarding, and even teaching with our prototype. That was the moment something clicked for me. It wasn’t enough to design good parts. We had to design the connective tissue. That was design, but it was also facilitation. I just didn’t have the word for it yet.

There was another moment I always come back to—a design thinking workshop at IBM during Austin Design Week. We were challenged to design the worst hospital experience imaginable. It was absurd and hilarious—we imagined zombies in the waiting room, bloodied tools left lying around, terrifying moans echoing down the hallways. But beneath the comedy, something deeper was happening. We were surfacing our collective fears. And from there, we could design better. That facilitation technique—”design the worst” to unlock what’s most important—has stuck with me ever since.

Looking back, the shift was already happening. I started showing up at Austin Design Week. I went to IDEO trainings. I found myself drawn to design thinking. And I began to notice that the leaders I admired most weren’t the ones with the best answers. They were the ones who knew how to guide a group through uncertainty. They could make the murky feel purposeful. When I attended the Voltage Control summit in early 2020—just weeks before the pandemic—it hit me like a lightning bolt: these were my people. I was witnessing the art of facilitation, and I wanted in.

Design at the Edges

My path into facilitation wasn’t straight. It wound through product management, engineering education, and people leadership. But the common thread was always the same: I was obsessed with helping teams work better together. After that 2020 summit, I dove in. I joined every virtual meetup I could. I took Eric’s learning experience design workshop and immediately started redesigning my team meetings. I used mural boards, breakout groups, solo time, lean coffee, and liberating structures to fight the Zoom fatigue that was crushing morale.

There was one moment during those early pandemic months that stays with me. My team was exhausted. The line between work and home had blurred. So I tossed out our regular meeting structure and instead opened with a prompt: “What’s something you’re proud of this week, work or not?” The answers ranged from “I made banana bread” to “I finally got my toddler to nap.” It wasn’t much. But it brought us back to each other. That 5-minute share changed the tone of our meeting. And we got more done. It reminded me that facilitation isn’t always a fancy workshop. Sometimes it’s just holding space for what people need most.

I also started paying attention to the ways people were connecting online. The facilitation community blew me away. In the early days of the pandemic, it felt like facilitators were holding the world together. They were generously sharing tools and frameworks, helping people gather in meaningful ways, even as the world went remote. That inspired me to go further.

By then, I was leading a growing global team of 45 product owners. I started designing experiences that brought our chapter together—deep onboarding, virtual conferences with interactive side chats, hands-on workshops built by internal voices. What started as a few experiments turned into a full-blown community of practice. The feedback poured in. “This is the best internal event I’ve ever attended.” “I learned things here I couldn’t learn in a book.” “Every discipline should run like this.”

That’s when I realized I needed to go deeper. Facilitation wasn’t just something I was doing. It was becoming a core part of how I lead.

Choosing to Say Yes

When the first-ever Voltage Control Facilitation Certification cohort opened up, I was nervous. I didn’t see myself as a facilitator. I was a leader, sure. A team builder. A curious question-asker. But I had only ever facilitated my own meetings. Was that enough? Could I really claim this title?

Something in me said yes.

I joined the cohort.

And it changed everything. The program gave me language for things I was already doing—but more than that, it gave me the tools and confidence to go further. I saw how my approach to leadership was deeply facilitative. How I had always been focused on unlocking the collective wisdom of a group. How I’d spent years creating safety and structure for teams to wrestle with tough topics and push each other toward better ideas.

I still remember one of our cohort sessions vividly. We were practicing feedback frameworks, and I shared a story from my work. Another cohort member reframed it, offered a new lens, and I suddenly saw that situation in a totally different light. It was the first time in a long time I felt truly seen in my leadership. That peer-to-peer reflection became one of the most valuable parts of the experience.

The cohort experience gave me a mirror. I saw my own leadership reflected back in a way that made it real. Tangible. Nameable. And it allowed me to fully own it.

My Leadership Is Facilitative

I didn’t expect the portfolio to be as powerful as it was. At first, it felt daunting. But as I began to build it, something unexpected happened: I started to reframe my own story. I looked back at past projects with new eyes. Suddenly, I could see the throughline. I wasn’t just trying stuff. I was practicing something. My experiments in team culture, onboarding design, collaborative workshops—they were all early expressions of the facilitation competencies.

Through the certification, I found clarity in purpose. I found frameworks to strengthen my instincts. And I found a cohort of others who were stretching facilitation into all kinds of wild and beautiful directions. It expanded my definition of the work. It showed me that this craft lives everywhere.

One unexpected shift came in how I mentored others. I began using facilitation tools in 1:1s—pulling out templates, whiteboards, even metaphor cards. What started as performance check-ins became co-designed coaching sessions. People opened up. They brought their full selves. And we built trust that translated into better collaboration across the board.

Most of all, it helped me articulate my values. I believe in gathering with intention. I believe in designing for belonging. I believe the best ideas come when we create space for every voice, especially the quiet ones.

Everywhere, All at Once

These days, facilitation shows up everywhere in my life. It’s how I lead work in rural Kenya, bringing together organizations to build a robotics program for under-resourced kids. It’s how I design meetings across time zones and shaky internet, using shared artifacts to help teams move forward asynchronously. It’s how I create community among women in my life, hosting wisdom circles and shared reflections.

Facilitation is how I lead as a mom. When my family hit a rough patch recently, we pulled out sticky notes and affinity mapped our way to a shared decision on weekend plans. It was silly, but also incredibly connecting.

It even shows up in the unlikeliest moments. One evening in Kenya, we were waiting for hippos to emerge along the riverbank. I pulled out Rose, Thorn, Bud and invited everyone to share a highlight, a challenge, and a hope from the trip. What followed was one of the most honest and beautiful group conversations I’ve ever been part of. It reminded me that all it takes is one prompt, offered with care, to open up something meaningful.

The skills I’ve gained have become a default lens: How do we create clarity? How do we design safety? How do we move from messy to meaningful?

And I’m not done yet.

Fueling the Future

Science in a Suitcase is my current focus. We’ve rebuilt the organization from dormancy post-pandemic to a thriving initiative reaching over 200 kids annually in rural Kenya. We’ve delivered 65 robots to six schools. We’ve launched tournaments. We’re exploring expansion. And we’re doing it through partnership, storytelling, and deep facilitation.

I’m also dreaming into what’s next. I see robotics not just as a STEM tool, but as a creative prompt—a way to unlock new ways of thinking. We’ve had teens in Nairobi prototype civic solutions with LEGO robots. We’ve hosted sumo bot battles that double as mad lib storytelling games. I want to keep exploring how facilitation, learning, and play intersect.

We’re building a board, deepening our partnerships, and imagining new models for sustainability. It’s not always easy, but the vision is clear: connection, creativity, and capacity-building across borders.

If you’re on the fence about certification, I’ll say this: these skills will change your life. You’ll become a better leader, parent, friend, and collaborator. You’ll learn how to make every gathering more purposeful and alive.

You’ll find your voice. And you’ll help others find theirs, too.

The post From Robots to Radical Connection appeared first on Voltage Control.

The most powerful spaces in facilitation exist at edges—those uncomfortable thresholds where certainty dissolves and something new becomes possible. At the 2026 Facilitation Lab Summit, eight facilitators explored what happens when we stop performing expertise and start practicing presence at these edges. Their collective wisdom reveals a profession in transformation, one urgently needed in a business world grappling with unprecedented complexity.

The Practice of Edges

These eight perspectives converge on a profound reorientation of facilitation practice—one that mirrors broader shifts in leadership and organizational thinking.

The traditional facilitator arrived as expert, controlled the process, directed attention, and evaluated contributions. Success meant achieving predetermined outcomes efficiently.

The edge-practicing facilitator arrives as presence, creates conditions for emergence, distributes attention, and illuminates participants’ latent wisdom. Success means unlocking collective intelligence and building capacity that persists beyond the session.

This shift requires practicing specific edges:

From certainty to curiosity: Acknowledging “I don’t know” becomes strategic rather than admitting weakness. Dan Walker showed how embracing collective wisdom means releasing the need to have answers yourself.

From expertise to authenticity: Bringing your whole self rather than just your professional persona. Renita Williams demonstrated how being “real enough” creates permission for deeper engagement.

From analysis to integration: Trusting multiple forms of intelligence—somatic, emotional, intuitive—alongside rational thinking. Chris Marquez’s “whole intelligence” framework provides pathways through true unknowns.

From structure to exploration: Designing for discovery rather than predetermined outcomes. Shannon Berg’s “expedition facilitation” allows breakthrough thinking to emerge.

From voice to listening: Finding your unique facilitation voice while staying exquisitely attuned to what the room needs. Joe Dager’s DJ metaphor shows how preparation and presence dance together.

From expert to illuminator: Seeing participants as “already worthy” and tending conditions for their brilliance to shine. Brian Formato’s fire framework shows how facilitators ignite rather than instruct.

From thinking to embodying: Engaging the full physical presence and recognizing how bodies regulate (or dysregulate) together. Robin Goodwin brought facilitation into flesh and nervous systems.

From control to safety: Understanding trauma lives in every room and creating multiple dimensions of safety so people can move from protection to connection. Trudy Duffy provided the neurobiological foundation for why edges feel risky—and how to make them safer to explore.

The Edge of Collective Intelligence

Dan Walker opened the conversation with a deceptively simple premise: “The smartest person in the room is the room.” Yet in practice, this belief requires facilitators to abandon the comfortable center of their own expertise and venture toward an edge where outcomes cannot be controlled.

Dan described this tension beautifully: edges exist “distant from the comfortable space at the heart of us.” They represent the challenging spaces we must move into, even when—especially when—”the world itself feels like it’s at an edge.”

His insight cuts to the core of modern organizational challenges. When business leaders face problems too complex for any single expert to solve, the facilitator’s role shifts fundamentally. The value isn’t in having answers but in unlocking the “collective brilliance that exists and is so heavily needed.”

Dan introduced another critical edge: the tension between urgency and patience. Organizations demand speed—”we need this yesterday”—while meaningful change operates on generational timescales. “How do you balance that tension between urgency we need this now… with actually the quality work takes time?” he asked participants.

This isn’t an edge to resolve but to hold. The wisdom lies in recognizing when to honor both forces simultaneously.

The Edge of Authenticity

Renita Smith named what many facilitators feel but rarely articulate: the exhausting gap between who we are and who we think we should be professionally. “Outside of work walls we’re having these conversations,” she observed, “but when it comes into the corporate spaces we clam up.”

Her framework for being “unmasked” offers a provocative alternative: “Being real enough so the room can be real back.”

This isn’t about oversharing or abandoning professionalism. Renita distinguished between performing personality “for its own sake” versus bringing genuine presence that creates permission for others to do the same. When she started showing up fully—sharing her welcome slide listing “oldest daughter, naturally an introvert, ADHD/autistic, diverse group of friends, does improv, loves unicorns, queer as hell”—her facilitation transformed.

“The more that I pushed myself, the more the room opened up,” she reflected. “The more unhinged I was… the more conversation got deeper.”

For business leaders struggling with authentic leadership in polarized times, Renita demonstrates how vulnerability isn’t weakness but strategic invitation. When facilitators model wholeness, they create conditions for participants to bring their full cognitive and creative capacity to complex problems.

The Edge of the Unknown

Chris Lunney introduced the concept of “whole intelligence”—integrating analytical thinking with somatic awareness, emotional intuition, and subconscious insight. In practice, this means trusting more than your head when navigating uncertainty.

Through a guided visualization, Marquez led participants to access what their hearts longed for in an unknown situation, then translate that into “trackable experiments”—small actions aligned with head, heart, and hand.

This approach addresses a fundamental business challenge: traditional analysis fails when facing true unknowns. “When we’re in the unknown and we only rely on analytical and relational thinking,” Marquez explained, “it’s like using a map without a compass.”

The facilitator’s role becomes helping groups access multiple forms of intelligence to chart paths through terrain that cannot be mapped in advance. This proves essential when innovation requires not just solving known problems but discovering which problems need solving.

The Edge of Innovation

Shannon Hart translated this into practical innovation facilitation, distinguishing between “tour guide” sessions—structured, predictable, with predetermined stops—and “expedition” facilitation that ventures into unmapped territory searching for “hidden unknown treasures.”

“True innovation is a concept that is non-linear, iterative, and relational,” Shannon emphasized. It requires “less like this [tour guide] and more Indiana Jones style expedition.”

Her framework addresses why so many innovation sessions disappoint. Organizations want breakthrough thinking but design workshops that minimize uncertainty. Shannon advocates for deliberately holding the “diamond open longer”—resisting premature convergence that kills emergent possibilities.

“The rush to certainty” she warned, particularly when teams are depleted, causes groups to settle for safe solutions rather than transformative ones. The facilitator’s job is “protecting the quiet sparks”—the fragile new ideas easily drowned by louder voices or habitual thinking.

For businesses seeking competitive advantage through innovation, Berg’s message is clear: you cannot mandate breakthrough thinking in containers designed for control.

The Edge of Voice

Joe Randel explored how finding your facilitator voice requires balancing preparation with presence. Using the metaphor of a DJ, he demonstrated how “voice is pattern choice”—the unique decisions you make about how to guide group energy moment by moment.

The DJ metaphor illuminated facilitation dynamics beautifully. DJs come with repertoire and plans but succeed through reading the room in real-time, choosing whether to cut, blend, or let a moment end based on what the space needs, not what the setlist demands.

“Your voice is your competitive advantage,” Dager argued, especially as AI tools can generate session agendas and activities. What remains irreplaceable is the human capacity to sense energy shifts and make judgment calls that serve the group’s emerging needs over the facilitator’s prepared plan.

This resonates powerfully in our current technological moment. As automation handles routine tasks, the competitive advantage lies in distinctly human capacities: reading subtle cues, holding complexity, making intuitive leaps, and building trust through authentic presence.

The Edge of Illumination

Brian Buck reframed the facilitator’s fundamental stance through fire as metaphor. Rather than being the flame everyone follows, skilled facilitators tend conditions that allow others to ignite.

His framework moved through three stages: Ember (internal self-work and regulation), Kindle (creating the container), and Illuminate (igniting others’ potential). The crucial shift happens in moving from Kindle to Illuminate—from “I am the content driver” to “I ignite the fire of other people.”

Brian drew on David Brooks’ work on belonging: “The ultimate gift you can give another person is to see them deeply, to understand them, and to make them feel known.” When facilitators see people as “already worthy” with depth and mystery rather than problems to manage, belonging deepens and collective intelligence emerges.

“Illuminators don’t spotlight answers,” Brian explained. “They spotlight people who have the answers.”

For organizations concerned with engagement, retention, and high performance, this reframe is crucial. Belonging precedes performance. Psychological safety is felt, not declared. When people feel seen and valued, they bring energy and creativity that no amount of expert advice can generate.

The Edge of Embodiment

Robin Neidorf brought facilitation into the body, drawing on 30 years of yoga practice to demonstrate how physical presence shapes group dynamics. Through exercises exploring energy centers and group sizes, she made visible how “embodied sound and vibrations… regulate your nervous system and put you quite literally in harmony with” others.

Her insight challenges the cerebral approach dominating professional spaces: “If we don’t bring ourselves fully as bodies into the spaces we’re working in, participants won’t.”

Robin demonstrated how different group configurations create distinct felt experiences. Pairs generate vulnerability and deep connection. Threes enable creative rhythm. Fours feel solid and task-oriented. Fives create space for people to pull back when needed. Understanding these dynamics allows facilitators to design activities that serve emotional as well as cognitive objectives.

In an era of Zoom fatigue and screen-mediated work, Robin’s emphasis on embodied practice offers a corrective. The body holds wisdom that thinking alone cannot access—wisdom increasingly essential as work grows more complex and demanding.

The Edge of Safety

Trudy Townsend closed the summit by naming what underlies all other edges: trauma exists in every room we enter. Drawing on the landmark ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences) study, she explained how trauma isn’t the event but “the experience of that event living in your body.”

Understanding nervous system responses—the rapid “flipping of lids” when people feel threatened—reframes facilitation challenges. That quiet person isn’t disengaged; they may be in freeze response. The person making jokes isn’t being disruptive; humor may be their protection mechanism.

Trudy identified five dimensions of safety facilitators must consider: physical, psychological, social, moral, and cultural. “Safety is a fundamental antidote to trauma,” she emphasized. “When the nervous system calms down… we naturally shift out of protection mode. Our breath changes, our jaw loosens, muscles start to soften, our attention widens.”

This matters immensely for business. Innovation requires psychological safety—the felt sense that you can take interpersonal risks without negative consequences. But safety isn’t one thing. Different people need different conditions to feel safe enough to contribute fully. Trauma-informed facilitation means continuously noticing signs of activation and adjusting to support regulation.

Why This Matters Now

These insights arrive at a critical juncture. The business world faces challenges—climate crisis, technological disruption, social polarization, unprecedented complexity—that exceed the capacity of traditional hierarchical problem-solving. Organizations need their people’s full creativity, wisdom, and engagement. But accessing that requires fundamentally different approaches to bringing people together.

The COVID-19 pandemic revealed how quickly certainty evaporates. The rise of artificial intelligence challenges assumptions about expertise and knowledge work. Social fragmentation tests our ability to work across difference. These conditions demand facilitators who can work at edges—holding space for groups to discover what they don’t yet know they need to know.

The facilitation practices explored at this summit offer more than techniques. They model a leadership paradigm urgently needed: one based on presence rather than control, on illumination rather than instruction, on collective intelligence rather than heroic expertise.

When Dan Walker says “the smartest person in the room is the room,” he articulates what complexity science has shown: emergent solutions to complex problems cannot be designed by individuals, only discovered by collectives. When Renita Smith invites us to be “unmasked,” she addresses the authenticity crisis in leadership. When Chris Lunney teaches “whole intelligence,” he provides tools for navigating irreducible uncertainty. When Shannon Hart advocates “expedition facilitation,” she enables the innovation organizations desperately seek. When Joe Randel explores “voice through metaphor,” he helps us find authentic expression in professional contexts. When Brian Buck shifts us from expert to illuminator, he addresses engagement and belonging challenges. When Robin Neidorf brings embodiment forward, she reconnects us to wisdom beyond thinking. When Trudy Townsend teaches trauma-informed practice, she provides the safety necessary for all the rest to be possible.

The Invitation

These facilitators invite us to explore our own edges—the places where our facilitation practice feels uncomfortable, uncertain, vulnerable. Not because challenge is virtuous but because edges are where growth happens. For ourselves and the groups we serve.

The world needs facilitators willing to release the comfortable center of their expertise and venture toward edges. To trust the room’s intelligence more than their own answers. To bring authenticity that creates permission for others to do the same. To access multiple forms of wisdom. To design for discovery. To find voice while reading the room. To illuminate rather than instruct. To embody presence. To create safety for the difficult work of collective sense-making.

This isn’t naive idealism. It’s pragmatic response to genuine need. Organizations filled with brilliant people achieving mediocre results don’t need better experts. They need facilitators who can unlock the brilliance already present—by practicing presence at edges where control dissolves and collective intelligence can emerge.

As Brian Buck observed, reflecting on his journey from expert to illuminator: “What I’m excited about is… the one I’ve gone to illuminate and I’m like what just happened… suddenly the fire makes the whole darkness around you lights up that you didn’t see before.”

That’s the work. That’s the edge. That’s the practice these facilitators invite us into—tending the conditions that allow groups to illuminate themselves, discovering together what none of us could create alone.

The edge between what we know and what wants to emerge is where facilitation becomes truly transformational. And in a world at its own edges, that transformation has never been more necessary.

The post At the Edge of Facilitation: Eight Voices on Letting Go to Lead Forward appeared first on Voltage Control.

Enterprise AI adoption isn’t a roadmap problem. It’s an edge problem.

Across organizations, AI initiatives are accelerating — pilots are multiplying, tools are proliferating, and policies are emerging in parallel. Executive teams are crafting AI strategies. Boards are asking about posture and readiness. Departments are experimenting with copilots and automation.

Yet many leadership teams feel the same tension: adoption is uneven, alignment is fragile, and anxiety lingers beneath the surface.

What’s often missing isn’t strategy. It’s a way to navigate the edges AI creates.

Edges aren’t problems to solve. They’re thresholds: places where something new is trying to emerge. When AI enters workflows, it doesn’t just add capability; it reshapes roles, decision rights, operating rhythms, and expectations. That reshaping generates friction. And friction, when unnamed, becomes resistance.

When named and structured, it becomes movement.

At our February summit, we debuted a simple tool called the Edge Maps and used it live with 150 leaders, many of them navigating AI adoption in their organizations. In eight focused minutes, the room surfaced present realities, named thresholds, and committed to small, reversible experiments. The energy shifted from ambient overwhelm to organized momentum.

This article explores why enterprise AI adoption stalls at the edge and how a lightweight, structured approach can turn tension into forward motion.

Predictable Change, Unpredictable Edges

As February winds down, I’m reminded of a rhythm my wife lives with every year. She runs a garden center, and each spring the staff nearly triples. The ramp-up is expected. It’s seasonal. It’s planned.

And yet, every year feels different.

The mix of people shifts. Regulations change. Customer behavior evolves. Some seasonal employees return; many don’t. Training needs are familiar in shape but new in detail. Even when the pattern is predictable, the edge itself is not identical.

The edge is recurring, but never the same.

Enterprise AI adoption operates in much the same way.

You know AI waves are coming. You anticipate expansion. You build pilots. You set budgets. You hold strategy sessions.

• A new team integrating AI into a legacy workflow.
• A new compliance interpretation that shifts what’s permissible.
• A new executive expectation to demonstrate measurable ROI.
• A new tension between efficiency and craftsmanship.
• A new layer of role ambiguity.

The edge isn’t a surprise.

The shape of it is.

And because the shape changes, organizations can’t rely on static plans alone. They need a navigational practice — something that helps teams repeatedly step into uncertainty without freezing or overcorrecting.

Why Enterprise AI Adoption Stalls

Most AI strategies begin with tools, policies, or training plans. Those matter. But they don’t address the underlying edges teams are standing on.

Common enterprise AI edges look like this:

• Human vs. AI decision authority
• Tool sprawl and workflow fragmentation
• Governance bottlenecks
• Ethical ambiguity
• Role rebundling and job anxiety
• Measurement confusion — what does “AI success” even mean?

These aren’t purely technical issues. They’re transitional states.

And transitional states create psychological and operational edges.

At the executive layer, enthusiasm is often high. AI is framed as a competitive necessity or strategic imperative.

At the middle layer, uncertainty surfaces:

• Who approves experiments?
• Which tools are sanctioned?
• How do we manage risk?
• What metrics matter most?
• Who is accountable if something goes wrong?

At the frontline, experimentation frequently happens quietly. Individuals test tools on their own, unsure whether their usage is encouraged or merely tolerated.

Legal and governance teams, tasked with managing exposure, can become perceived blockers, not because they oppose innovation, but because there are no structured lanes for safe exploration.

Without a structured way to name and navigate these thresholds, organizations default to one of three patterns:

• Debate hypotheticals endlessly.
• Freeze in policy design.
• Launch large initiatives without safe learning loops.

The result? AI remains either an isolated productivity hack or a top-down mandate — not a coordinated, trust-building transformation.

What’s missing is a navigational layer.

Reframing AI as a Shoreline, Not a Cliff

When we hear “edge,” our bodies brace for a fall. It feels like a cliff that is irreversible and risky.

But what if enterprise AI is more like a shoreline?

Shorelines are dynamic. They shift daily. They invite navigation. They require rhythm, awareness, and adjustment — not panic.

This metaphor matters because it shifts energy from fear to curiosity. From avoidance to orientation.

Leaders can accelerate this shift by explicitly naming AI-related edges at the start of a meeting:

“We’re at the edge of redefining review workflows with AI.”
“We’re at the threshold of clarifying human vs. AI drafting roles.”
“We’re navigating the edge of safe AI-in-use.”

Naming the edge normalizes uncertainty without amplifying fear.

From there, you invite a consent-based experiment: time-boxed, safe-to-try, and small-but-real.

That move alone often transforms a session from:

“We might break something.”

to:

“We’re here to learn together.”

Closers matter just as much as openers. If you name an edge and run an experiment, close by harvesting learning, confirming ownership, and setting the next check-in. In this way, AI adoption becomes rhythmic rather than episodic.

Decision rules and working agreements become critical here. Edges produce ambiguity; decision rules clarify how you move within it. Working agreements make safety visible: how we’ll speak, pause, decide, and adjust.

Together, they form the container that makes AI transformation navigable.

The Missing Layer: Navigating AI Edges

AI is reshaping work in real time, and many organizations are experiencing multiple edges simultaneously:

• Tool selection and integration
• Policy and ethics
• Training and enablement
• Role evolution
• Operating rhythms
• Measures of success

For many teams, AI has become background anxiety, visible but hard to grasp.

The solution isn’t more slides.

It’s structured, small-scale experimentation.

It’s useful to treat AI like the weather. You forecast, prepare, and choose your route accordingly. Some days you sprint. On others you seek cover and regroup.

Practically, that means:

• Define the edge AI is presenting.
• Name it clearly.
• Identify the minimum viable experiment you can run to safely learn.

Minimum viable experiments create maximum alignment because they replace speculation with shared evidence.

Language is a lever here. Instead of “AI risk policy,” try “Safer AI-in-use.” Instead of “AI productivity targets,” try “Co-shaping AI-accelerated workflows.” Verbs like “co-shape,” “test,” “pilot,” and “harvest” nudge teams toward progression rather than perfection.

And while naming matters, don’t let it delay action. Begin exploration and refine language as you go. A named threshold becomes a door people can walk through together.

Introducing the Edge Maps: An 8-Minute Adoption Accelerator

This is where the Edge Maps comes in.

At the summit, we used it to help participants surface AI-related edges and convert them into tangible next steps. In eight minutes, participants lined up present realities, named a threshold, envisioned the near future, and identified the smallest real actions to cross it.

The room’s energy shifted from overwhelmed to organized.

When edges become visible and legible, they become navigable.

After two days of deep practice and dialogue, participants were already holding powerful insights about facilitation, emergence, and AI-shaped work. The Edge Maps offered something different — a structured moment of reflection. It created space to pause, assess what was emerging, and decide how these ideas would translate into practice. For some, that meant facilitation experiments. For others, it meant operational shifts. And for many, it meant clarifying how they would bring AI adoption back into their teams with intention rather than urgency. Within minutes of mapping Present, Threshold, and Future, something tightened and clarified. Edges that felt expansive became specific. Possibilities became prototypes. Energy became ownership. Participants weren’t solving AI adoption in eight minutes. They were converting insight into commitment. That’s the difference.

Here’s the essence of the tool:

• Use one row per edge, up to four.
• Move left to right through three fields: Present, Threshold, Future.
• Diverge in Present. Converge to name the Threshold. Close with tangible Future actions.
• Keep it fast — eight minutes by design.

In the Present field, begin with strengths, resources, and curiosities. This regulates the nervous system, especially when AI carries risk or ambiguity. Then acknowledge tensions and constraints.

That pairing — strength plus reality — creates confident curiosity rather than brittle optimism or fear.

Naming the Threshold is the fulcrum. Give it a discussable name. Then define small but real actions to step into and through it. Keep steps reversible.

In the Future field, articulate how it will feel once crossed, what you’ll be doing differently, and how you’ll know you’re there.

The result is a compact artifact that converts ambient AI worry into a trackable learning plan.

Applying Edges Thinking to Enterprise AI Adoption at Scale

Enterprise AI adoption isn’t a single edge. It’s a system of nested thresholds.

Strategic edges sit at the leadership layer.
Operational edges emerge in divisions.
Workflow edges surface inside teams.
Identity edges show up at the individual level.

The Edge Maps cascades effectively across levels:

• Leadership maps organizational edges across policy, enablement, ethics, and operations.
• Divisions map local thresholds shaped by their workflows.
• Teams identify role-level experiments that are small and reversible.

Balance top-down clarity with bottom-up learning.

Leadership sets guardrails:

• Data privacy boundaries
• Ethical commitments
• Reporting expectations

Teams co-shape experiments within those guardrails.

As local experiments produce wins, codify them into shared rituals, templates, and case studies. Innovation spreads without chaos.

Role clarity becomes a multiplier:

• Who owns AI enablement?
• Who stewards policy evolution?
• Who curates internal case studies?
• Who unlocks scale resources?

Consent-based trials reduce fear and increase participation. When people know experiments are time-bound and reversible, they’re more willing to engage.

Visibility accelerates adoption. Choose harvest formats that travel — brief write-ups, short demos, annotated templates. Make learning public and portable.

We’ve seen enterprise AI efforts transform simply by making experimentation legible.

From Map to Movement: Prototyping the Smallest Real Step

A map only matters if you move.

Convert at least one Future statement into a prototype this week.

Small. Real. Reversible.

“Pilot a daily AI stand-up for two weeks” beats “launch an AI initiative.”
“Draft a one-page AI-in-review guideline” beats “complete enterprise framework.”

Before starting, define:

• Safety signals: What tells us this is safe and responsible?
• Success signals: What tells us this is useful?
• Pivot protocol: How will we decide to continue, change, or stop?

Agreeing on pivot rules in advance reduces emotional friction and strengthens trust.

Book the next check-in before leaving the room. Close each session with owner, due date, and smallest viable action.

Rotate an “edge steward” role if helpful — someone who keeps the threshold visible and curates learning. Over time, experimentation becomes habit rather than event.

That’s when AI adoption shifts from initiative to capability.

Crossing the Shoreline

Enterprise AI adoption isn’t about eliminating uncertainty. It’s about building capacity to move within it.

Edges are invitations. They mark the place where capability wants to grow.

The Edge Maps provides a lightweight navigational layer — one that makes tension legible, experiments safe, and learning visible.

Name the threshold. Build a container. Take the smallest real next step together.

The shoreline is in sight.

Now move.

The post The Missing Layer in Enterprise AI Adoption: Navigating Edges appeared first on Voltage Control.

I work in healthcare, and for most of my career, facilitation was something I admired from a respectful distance. In our organization, when there were high-stakes meetings, complex conversations, or simply too many voices in the room, we’d bring in a facilitator. I always noticed how they could keep a group moving, how they seemed calm when tension rose, how they made space for the quietest person without shutting down the loudest. I valued the skill. I just didn’t see myself doing it.

As I moved into more senior roles, that distance got smaller. My meetings had more leaders in them, and the topics were messier—strategy, prioritization, culture. We didn’t always have the luxury of booking an external facilitator. Internally, we recognized the gap and even created a facilitation toolkit—guides, worksheets, tips. It helped a little, but it felt like trying to learn to swim by watching a YouTube video. You can memorize the strokes, but the first time your face hits the water, you realize how much you don’t know about breathing.

I first joined my current organization in 2008 and stepped into strategic planning around 2011. That work is fundamentally facilitative, whether you call it that or not. I had a very supportive boss who gave me room to practice, and I learned by assisting and observing external facilitators during our executive sessions. Those were some of my earliest lessons—how neutrality looks in practice, what it means to truly listen to the room, and how a single well-timed question can reshape the conversation. Even so, I didn’t feel confident doing it on my own. For the high-stakes moments, we hired help. For smaller things, I volunteered where it felt low-risk. Looking back, I can see I was circling the edge of facilitation—curious, cautious, and not quite ready to jump in.

Around the same time, I doubled down on leadership development. A lot of that was self-awareness work—understanding my defaults, my triggers, my strengths. Coaching emerged as a path that fit how I like to work. I earned my ACC through ICF and later started my PCC track. Coaching sharpened my presence. It taught me how to really listen and trust the client’s wisdom. Those skills translate beautifully into facilitation. But they aren’t the whole thing. Coaching is often one-on-one. Facilitation is about making a space where a group can think, decide, and move—together. There’s group dynamics, power dynamics, conflict, and a lot more heat.

By the time I was facilitating more meetings myself, I had a clear picture of the gap: I knew theory, I could plan an agenda, and I could hold a supportive tone. But my anxiety was about reacting in the moment. What if this happens? What if someone dominates? What if conflict erupts? What if we go in circles? I was preparing by trying to predict every possible thing that could go wrong. It wasn’t sustainable, and it wasn’t making me braver. I needed to learn to swim—for real.

Learning to Swim, Not Just Read the Manual

When I finally decided to seek deeper facilitation training, I did what everyone does: I looked locally first. I reviewed every program I could find and compared curricula. Honestly, most of it read like a table of contents from books I already owned. I could study Liberating Structures on my own. What I couldn’t get from a book was real-time practice and the chance to watch master facilitators do the work as they taught. That’s what I was hunting for.

What stood out about Voltage Control was their emphasis on application and their belief that facilitation is about foundations more than toolkits. Tools come and go. The ability to design purposeful gatherings, build psychological safety, intervene with care, and guide a group through complexity—that’s what I wanted to strengthen. Also, what I couldn’t fully appreciate at first—but now believe is the biggest value—was the community. Like coaching, facilitation is a craft that grows through practice, reflection, and being around people better than you. After the program, you’re not left on your own. There are office hours, alumni salons, and a network that keeps you in the water.

I’m a swimmer, and the metaphor kept showing up for me. If you’re always the fastest swimmer in the slow lane, you feel confident, sure—but you’re not getting better. You need to swim with people who push you. With Voltage Control, I saw a lane that felt faster than where I was and folks who would hold me to a higher standard.

I also noticed I was already collecting different threads—leadership development, coaching, strategic planning, and some exposure to design thinking through events like the Skunk Works sessions I helped organize. Watching expert design thinking facilitators reinforced how integrated these skills are. Facilitation isn’t an island. It’s part of how we lead, change, and collaborate. I was ready to integrate, not just add another toolkit to my shelf.

Taking the Leap—and Finding My Lane

No one I knew had taken the Facilitation Certification. That made it feel like a leap. I had questions. Would this be too theoretical? Too basic? Could it work virtually? Would it meet my learning goals? A conversation with Eric helped. He walked me through what to expect—projects, coaching, real-time guidance, and space to practice. That calmed my nerves.

There was a practical hurdle, too: cost. I work in the nonprofit world, and budgets are tight. Luckily, I secured a grant to cover tuition. That was a pivotal moment because once the financial barrier lifted, my only job was to commit. I told myself, if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it fully—bring real work, ask for feedback, and stop hovering at the edges.

And yes—the virtual format worked. More than I expected. Watching a skilled facilitator teach while facilitating is an education all by itself. The structure, the pacing, the way a question is framed, the gentle but firm redirect—those things land differently when you’re in the experience. It’s not just what they say; it’s how they hold the room. That’s what I wanted to learn.

Practice, Projects, and Watching Masters at Work

One thing I loved about the program was how quickly we moved from learning into doing. I brought in live projects from my organization and used them as a learning lab. One was a prioritization session with a research group—translating their strategic plan into a clear, focused year of work. I designed the session with tools we explored in the cohort and adapted elements of Liberating Structures to fit the group’s culture. We made choices, assigned owners, and—importantly—people left feeling the meeting mattered.

Another project tackled a trickier topic: our team’s discomfort with AI. That conversation had tension baked in—values, ethics, job security, curiosity vs. caution. It was a perfect test of the very thing I’d been anxious about: how to intervene with care when conflict surfaces. I prepped well, named the purpose and boundaries up front, and built in structures that let people speak honestly without derailing the whole session. We didn’t come to a neat consensus, but the group moved. That’s facilitation.

The cohort itself was a mix—different industries, a few international folks, and not many from healthcare. I liked that. Diversity of context made me stretch, and it also reinforced how foundational the work is. A good question is good anywhere. A respectful interruption travels. “The Art of Gathering” became a touchstone—center purpose, make intentional choices, and design for meaning, not just efficiency. That book keeps coming up in so many spaces. I wouldn’t have found it without the program nudging me.

And then there were the office hours. I didn’t realize how critical they’d be until after the program. It’s one thing to graduate; it’s another to have a safe place to bring a thorny agenda or a “this went weird, help me unpack it” story. The alumni community makes it easier to keep learning. That’s where you keep swimming with faster people.

Handling Heat, Holding Focus

Here’s the biggest shift I felt: I’m less rattled by conflict. Before, I tried to prevent anything from going wrong by over-preparing every possible scenario. That approach is exhausting. Now, I still prepare, but I trust myself in the moment. I have language for gentle interruption. I have structures to contain a conversation without strangling it. I know how to name what’s happening in the room without making someone wrong. That confidence doesn’t come from reading—it comes from doing.

I started to hear it reflected back to me in feedback. Colleagues would say, “You kept us focused,” or “You were respectful, even when you had to cut in,” or “That was productive.” A half-day leadership workshop I facilitated stands out. It was internal, so the stakes felt personal. If it went poorly, I wasn’t sure anyone would tell me, which somehow made it feel riskier than an external gig. I leaned hard on my preparation, clarity of outcomes, and a design that moved people from reflection to decision. We left with alignment and next steps. The relief I felt—followed by pride—was real. The work landed.

Another moment taught me a lot about power dynamics. I was facilitating team-building with a group known to have a micromanaging leader. At the last minute, that leader couldn’t attend the first session. The difference in the room was palpable. People opened up. Ideas flowed. The feedback afterward was, frankly, that it went better without him. He attended the second session, and the energy shifted again. We still made progress, but it reminded me how much the presence—or absence—of a single person can shape the container. That awareness now informs how I design. Sometimes the leader needs to step back so the team can step forward.

I’m an introvert. I still don’t “love” facilitation the way I love coaching. But I’ve stopped using that as a reason to avoid it. In today’s workplace, facilitation is a critical skill. If I decide to shift more into consulting down the road, it becomes even more essential. So I’m leaning in. The more I do it, the more my coaching and facilitation inform each other. Coaching keeps me present. Facilitation gives me ways to work the group’s edges without losing the whole.

Scaling Change, One Conversation at a Time

We have a strategic planning update coming up, and I’ve already put my hand up to design and facilitate parts of it. A few years ago, I would have dodged that. Now, I’m thinking about how to structure the leadership sessions, how to make purpose explicit, and where to bake in moments for disagreement that don’t derail the overall arc. I’ll probably bring those drafts to office hours and ask for critique. That ritual—design, test, reflect—is part of how I’ll keep my confidence growing.

Beyond the near-term, our organization is heading into big change. We’re moving into a new physical building in 2029. A move like that is not just real estate—it’s identity, rituals, technology, workflows, culture. To navigate it well, we’ll need facilitation, coaching, and change management working together. I think of this as integration. You can’t treat each skill as a silo and expect meaningful change. You need to understand power dynamics, your own vulnerabilities, and the human side of logistics. Facilitation becomes the practice of making all those threads visible and actionable—one conversation at a time.

Part of my future focus is also about scaling the skill inside the organization. We don’t need everyone to be master facilitators. But if more people were comfortable with the 101—framing purpose, asking better questions, using simple structures to focus a conversation—our meetings would change. Decisions would come faster, and more people would feel heard. I’m thinking about how to mentor colleagues, how to coach them through their first facilitation, and how to create spaces where it’s safe to practice. That’s the only way this sustains. You learn it, and then you use it. If you don’t, it slips away.

And as AI continues to reshape how we work, the differentiator is going to be people skills. Machines can summarize, schedule, even draft a plan. But they can’t sit in a charged room and help humans meet each other with courage. They can’t notice a moment of tension and choose the respectful interruption that unlocks the conversation. They can’t read the energy of a group, or design an experience that makes people feel seen. Facilitation—done with care—is how we hold onto what makes us human at work.

The biggest lesson I carry forward from Voltage Control is that learning doesn’t stop when the course ends. In some ways, that’s when it starts to matter. Having a community to return to, a place to bring messy drafts and honest debriefs, is what keeps me improving. It’s the difference between skimming a manual and getting in the pool. I used to be the fastest swimmer in the slow lane. Now, I’m choosing lanes that challenge me—and I’m getting better because of who’s swimming beside me.

I didn’t fall in love with facilitation overnight. I still get nervous. I still over-prepare sometimes. But now, when something unexpected happens—and it always does—I don’t freeze. I breathe. I name what I see. I adjust. And more often than not, the group moves forward. That’s progress I can feel.

If you’re reading this because you’re facilitation-curious, my honest encouragement is to invest in learning it in real time. Books are great. Toolkits are helpful. But the growth comes from doing—designing for a purpose, holding a room, and reflecting with people who’ll tell you the truth. That’s what I found at Voltage Control, both in the certification and in the community that continues afterward. If you’re ready to stop reading about swimming and actually get in the water, it’s a good place to start.

And if you’re like me—an introvert who doesn’t naturally crave the spotlight—there’s room for you in facilitation. Your presence, your listening, your care for the edges of a conversation are strengths. The skills are learnable. The courage builds with practice. And the work matters. We need more people who can help groups think together, especially now. So, take the leap. Swim with people a little faster than you. You might surprise yourself with how far you go.

The post Fastest Swimmer in the Slow Lane appeared first on Voltage Control.

I’ve always been fascinated with communication. In college, I struggled to narrow down my major because I was excited by so many fields— linguistics, teaching, business, environmental science, child life specialist. I took all kinds of courses and kept pulling at the threads of what connected them. Communication became that golden thread. It felt like the foundation beneath everything I was interested in.

A professor gave me advice I’ll never forget: don’t go to grad school yet. Go get real-world experience first, see where communication really matters, and then come back if you want to. That shaped my approach. I went out into the world and found myself drawn to spaces where communication was essential but often invisible—event planning, project management, nonprofit work. And similarly, I would come to learn, when facilitation is working well, you don’t always see the machinery behind it, but you feel the impact.

Over the years, I worked in nonprofit fundraising and awareness for pediatric cancer in Iowa, corporate financial literacy partnerships in Colorado, conservation stewardship in Wyoming, and most recently, in arts and heritage here in Western North Carolina. Across all these roles, industries, and causes, communication kept showing up as the underlying and often overlooked critical factor. I started to see myself as a kind of translator—someone who could connect left-brain and right-brain thinkers. That work of making different perspectives visible to each other lit me up. I realized I wasn’t just managing logistics, I was curating conversations and connections.

One vivid memory was in Wyoming when I was part of the team gauging the refreshed approach to a bear-canister loaner program.  Biologists had one perspective, visitor experience staff had another, and none of them felt fully understood. They confided in me, and I found myself holding all these different truths. That was rewarding but exhausting. I thought, there has to be a better way—what if we could have these conversations all together, instead of me being the go-between? That was a turning point in realizing I needed facilitation skills.

Even earlier, I’d seen the magic of adaptation through event planning. In college, I worked on Dance Marathon, a 24-hour fundraiser for families and kids affected by pediatric cancer. We planned every minute of programming, but at 3 a.m. the fire alarm sounded. Our backup entertainment—beach balls—became the highlight of the night. That moment taught me the beauty of letting go of control, staying flexible, and inviting creativity. Those same lessons would come back in facilitation.

Meeting my now partner Heath on a long distance hiking trail and living for three and a half years in a converted bus changed how I think about groups and spaces. When your home is tiny and your plans depend on weather, road conditions, and community, you learn humility and presence fast. I carried that into rooms and projects—focusing on what matters right now, with the people who are here.

Making Room for Many Ways of Knowing

The first time facilitation truly sparked my imagination was being invited into the conversations of planning an intertribal symposium in Wyoming. The Wyoming Wilderness Association brought together tribal liaisons, nonprofits, and government agencies, to share their lenses while acknowledging the oversight and often exclusion of traditional ecological knowledge that would inform  the future of forest planning. A colleague led the effort, and though she wasn’t formally trained as a facilitator, the way she held space was powerful. Public art, intentional gathering, deep listening—it all wove together. I saw how facilitation could expand beyond pre-existing structures and create entirely new possibilities.

At the same time, I was feeling growing frustration with poorly run meetings. No agendas, no purpose, the same voices dominating. I’d leave wondering what we even accomplished. Those experiences pushed me further toward facilitation. I started stepping in, guiding conversations, bringing clarity. It wasn’t my job title, but it felt like my calling.

Another thread was the tech and access barriers I kept encountering. Government partners who couldn’t open cloud docs; community members who preferred conversation to surveys; people who didn’t have easy access to Zoom. I learned to design alternatives—listening sessions, phone trees, printed summaries—so that more voices could be included. That design mindset is what eventually made “facilitation” click for me: it isn’t just a meeting, it’s an architecture for belonging.

When my partner Heath and I wrapped up bus life, I was in a career transition. I knew I loved events and project management, but something was missing. As I reflected on the moments that mattered—building trust, holding conversations, bridging perspectives—I realized facilitation was at the heart of it all. That’s when I found Voltage Control.

Choosing Voltage Control

I came across Voltage Control while searching for ways to deepen my facilitation skills. The certification program stood out not just for the curriculum, but for the community. The fact that there was a scholarship program made it possible for me to say yes during a financially uncertain time. That support was huge. It helped me commit fully.

A friend had once written me a card after a job ended, saying I had a gift for making people feel safe, heard, and seen. Reading that during a vulnerable time reinforced my intuition: this was the work I was meant to do. Around the same time, my mentor in Denver encouraged me to stop overthinking and just go for it. “Just commit,” she told me. That was the final nudge I needed.

More than anything, I was looking for confidence. I’d facilitated plenty in practice, but I wrestled with impostor syndrome. Who was I to claim this title? What if I wasn’t good enough? I went in intimidated but eager, hoping the program would help me step into that identity with more courage.

I also wanted practical architectures I could use the next day—ways to set purpose, draw out quieter voices, structure choices, and make decisions visible. I hoped the program would give me tools, but also the discernment to choose the right tool for the moment.

Confidence Through Community

The certification experience was both humbling and empowering. At first, I was intimidated by the brilliance of my cohort—so many accomplished people already doing incredible facilitation work. But over time, I realized we were all at different steps in our journeys. Some were ahead of me, some right beside me, some just starting out. That balance was affirming. It reminded me that growth isn’t about comparison, it’s about presence.

I’ll never forget my cohort mates. Landy was our hype woman, bringing energy and encouragement when we needed it most. Chloe, my first partner, felt like a serendipitous match—she was working at the intersection of sustainability and somatics, which resonated deeply with me. Her dedication, even while moving across continents with a newborn, was inspiring. And Tahira generously shared resources that helped me strengthen my verbal communication skills as an introvert, reminding me that authenticity can be just as powerful as charisma.

The hardest part for me was the portfolio. I procrastinated endlessly, doubting myself. Everyone else’s portfolios seemed incredible. But when I finally slowed down, centered myself, and embraced Thich Nhat Hanh’s mantra—“I am here, I have arrived.”—something shifted. I stopped worrying about what was next and simply showed up for the work. What emerged was something authentic and deeply mine. Looking back, I’m proud of that piece. It was an aha moment: facilitation isn’t about comparison, it’s about showing up fully as yourself.

I still return to a few practices from the program: purpose-first framing, Nine Whys to find meaning beneath goals, and small-structure moves like 1-2-4-All to widen participation fast. Those are now part of my muscle memory, and they continue to ground me when meetings drift.

Building Bridges at Work

Since completing certification, I’ve noticed tangible shifts in my work. First and foremost, I’ve slowed down. Nonprofit work is relentless, with endless to-do lists and limited resources. But facilitation has given me a built-in pause—a way to bring more intentionality, humility, and creativity into challenges. I’ve gained confidence to suggest new approaches and to hold space for listening before rushing into action.

One example is our Resource Development Committee. It started as just board members, but I expanded it to include resident artists and community members. Now it’s a diverse group brainstorming funding, volunteers, and programming together. Bringing different brains to the table has sparked more viable and creative solutions. That’s facilitation in action.

I’ve also begun pitching a “Bridging Brains Workshop,” an idea that grew out of my portfolio. It’s about connecting the practical and the visionary, the analytical and the creative. We map tensions, name the value on both sides, and design experiments small enough to try next week. There’s been some resistance, but also real excitement. Having the language, confidence, and framework from the certification has helped me advocate for this vision more clearly.

Colleagues have noticed changes too. I’m often the youngest person in the room, which used to make me defensive. But I’ve shifted toward curiosity instead of frustration. I listen more, respond less quickly, and create space for others before moving to action. That listening capacity has been recognized and appreciated. It feels like a quiet but profound transformation.

Another change is my relationship with measurement. I can confidently stand my ground to articulate that true impact is beyond dollars raised or programs launched. Now I track the smaller signals that make those possible: who spoke who hadn’t before, where we found unexpected agreement, which decision is now actually clear. Those micro-moments tell me we’re building capacity, not just completing tasks.

Following Curiosity Into the Future

Looking ahead, I’m curious  how I can integrate sensory somatic forest bathing with facilitation in conservation, advocacy, and coalition spaces. I’ve been inspired by Adrienne Maree Brown’s Emergent Strategy, especially her reflections on facilitation and growing resilience to move at the speed of trust. I believe facilitation can be a balm in social impact work—a way to hold difficult conversations, prevent burnout, and invite creativity into seemingly intractable challenges. I want to explore how facilitation can support both the mission and the people behind the mission.

Practically, that looks like more listening sessions with community members who don’t usually come to meetings, more co-design with partners who hold different forms of expertise, and more prototypes instead of perfect plans. It also looks like protecting the humans doing the work—embedding check-ins, pacing, and recovery into our processes so we’re not burning bright and burning out.

I don’t know exactly where that path will lead, but I’m following curiosity. I trust that facilitation, with its balance of structure and play, rigor and imagination, will continue to be the thread guiding me forward. House of Fig feels like my most authentic way to create spaces of curiosity that increase collective confidence, connection, and collaboration through grounded action, strengthening intuitive ideation, and experiencing interconnection.

If I had one piece of advice for anyone considering the certification, it would be: be present. Don’t worry about how you’ll use it or what comes next. Just show up fully for the experience. That presence will shape you in ways you can’t predict. It certainly did for me.

And if you’re on the fence, borrow what helped me: ask a mentor to reflect back what they see in you, and listen closely to the people who already trust you. If your work keeps pulling you into the role of connector, translator, or space-holder, the certification gives you the tools, community, and confidence to do that work on purpose—and with more ease.

The post Bridging Brains and Building Trust appeared first on Voltage Control.

In this episode of the Facilitation Lab podcast, host Douglas Ferguson interviews Erin Warner, founder of Head + Heart Coaching and Facilitation. Erin shares her journey from traditional leadership training to interactive facilitation, emphasizing the power of peer learning, rituals, and the “flow channel” for team engagement. She discusses authentic facilitation, embodied practices, and her holistic “3D wellness” approach. Erin also explores how words and self-talk shape reality, encouraging leaders to foster connection, courage, and creativity. The episode highlights facilitation as a transformative tool for personal and collective growth in organizations and beyond.

Show Highlights

[00:03:01] Learning from Each Other
[00:07:09] Redesigning Experiences, Not Just Agenda
[00:12:06] The Importance of Ritual and Structur
[00:15:02] Studying Civil Rights and Facilitation
[00:20:14] Empowering Participants Through Facilitation
[00:26:04] Advice to “Don’t Conform” and Authenticity
[00:31:06] 3D Wellness: Physical, Emotional, Social

Links | Resources

Erin on LinkedIn

Erin on Instagram

About the Guest

Erin Warner is an executive coach and facilitator who helps leaders and teams connect more courageously, communicate more clearly, and collaborate more creatively. As founder of Head + Heart Coaching and Facilitation and partner at EXEC Consulting, she brings over ten years of experience guiding organizations and individuals to build trust, emotional intelligence, and authentic leadership. Erin is a bridge builder, weaving together the precision of a lawyer, the presence of a coach, and the playfulness of a dance teacher into a deeply personal approach to growth, self-love, and empowerment.

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Transcript

Douglas Ferguson:
Hi, I’m Douglas Ferguson. Welcome to the Facilitation Lab Podcast, where I speak with Voltage Control Certification Alumni and other facilitation experts about the remarkable impact they’re making. We embrace a method agnostic approach, so you can enjoy a wide range of topics and perspectives as we examine all the nuances of enabling meaningful group experiences.
This series is dedicated to helping you navigate the realities of facilitating collaboration, ensuring every session you lead becomes truly transformative. Thanks so much for listening.
If you’d like to join us for a live session sometime, you can join our Facilitation Lab community. It’s an ideal space to apply what you learn in the podcast in real time with peers. Sign up today at voltagecontrol.com/facilitation-lab.
And if you’d like to learn more about our 12-week facilitation certification program, you can read about it at voltagecontrol.com. Today, I’m with Erin Warner, founder of Head + Heart Coaching and Facilitation.
She’s on a mission to help leaders connect courageously, communicate clearly, and collaborate with creativity. She is also a partner at Exec Consulting, where she facilitates trainings on leadership, emotional intelligence, trust, and teamwork. Welcome to the show, Erin.

Erin Warner:
Thanks, Douglas. It’s great to be here.

Douglas Ferguson:
Oh, it’s so great to have you. Well, let’s get started here with some early on experiences that you’ve went through. And I know that early on at Exec Consulting, you and Mauricio were delivering tried and true content for leadership trainings that folks might be very familiar with, and you began to notice some subtle surges of energy during partner shares and reflection. What were the specific patterns in those rooms that told you facilitation was calling you toward a different way of working?

Erin Warner:
Yeah, exactly. We were doing a series of workshops that were very well received, people really liked them, and I had the privilege to see them over and over again because of that. And I noticed that the little bit of interaction that we had built into it were moments of particularly high energy in the room, and actually delight and pleasure of the participants, and learning from each other in that moment instead of just simply learning from us.
So, I got curious about that, and I started to bring in little bits of other interactive moments and saw that that held true. People loved it. They got a lot out of it. And so I just got curious about, “How can I find ways to up-level our workshops with intentionality by leveraging this pattern that I’ve observed?” And I had a feeling that there was a whole world out there that I didn’t really know about, and I set out to find it. And that’s how I found Facilitation.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. That’s really interesting. I’d love to hear more about this learning from each other. How was that first showing up for you?

Erin Warner:
Yeah. So, the most basic form of interaction that we had in our original format was when we asked people first to take solo time to reflect on their aha moments and takeaways from what we had taught them. So that was the first step, solo reflection time. And then we had them pair up and just simply share their aha moments and takeaways with each other.
But that’s what I mean by then they were learning from each other in that moment, because it’s either reinforcing something that they also thought was interesting, or maybe bringing something back up that had kind of slipped through and not registered with them and they’re like, “Oh yeah, that was interesting.” And so, maybe they would bring in their own work context and explain why it was interesting or relevant to them.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. It’s always fascinating too when folks are able to connect to something a little bit deeper inside themselves, ’cause then they’re relating to the material in ways that are difficult when you’re just passively just soaking information in.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. And so relating to material, I’m really excited about the first intuition I had to bring that into our training. There’s something we teach called The Flow Channel, which many people might have heard of. It’s that flow is when you’re so engaged in an activity that you lose track of time, you forget about your surroundings, and you’re just like fully present with the activity or the challenge.
And so we teach about that. And we also teach that managers have the power to like bring people into flow by balancing challenge and support with intention, because if you have too much challenge, you get into anxiety, and if you have too little challenge, you get into boredom. And we used to just simply teach that to them, but then we brought them an activity, as I was exploring this world of like, “How do we make it more interactive, and they get to actually wrestle with the information instead of passively receiving it?”
So we had them draw just an X and Y axis, a little graph, and then a diagonal line from the lower left to the upper right, and then that represented the flow channel. And then literally like plot themselves and their colleagues as little dots on the graph, either above the flow channel in anxiety or below the flow channel in boredom, and just start to have real awareness of what this means in their real life. Not just as an abstract concept, but, “Oh wow, look, my colleague is in anxiety, and how can we bring them back into flow?” And so that became really a favorite of our participants.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. They can connect to it in a more meaningful way. It becomes an assessment versus just a piece of information.

Erin Warner:
Exactly. Yeah.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah, I’ve seen that used too for leaders to think about managing and mentoring their team, because the idea of helping ensure that you’re assigning tasks and work when you’re delegating, you’re doing that in a way that is keeping them in that flow state.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. It’s a little bit counterintuitive. We come across some managers who are afraid to give people too much challenge, but humans actually… The flow channel actually isn’t where challenge and skill are perfectly matched. It’s actually where challenge exceeds skill just by a little bit, just enough to make it fun and to make you feel like you accomplished something when you did it.
And you can look at video game design. Once you complete a level, what’s your reward? It’s a harder level. It’s not an easier one. Nobody would play that game. We actually crave challenge as long as it doesn’t put us into that stress and anxiety zone. And so it’s really liberating for managers to learn that and know, “Oh wow, actually I can challenge my people and that’s going to bring out the best in them.”

Douglas Ferguson:
And it’s such a fun reframe too, because oftentimes I think managers are looking at the symptoms, and this is a great way of stepping back and looking at, “What’s really at play here? Are they really disengaged or is it that I haven’t given them enough a challenge? Or have I over challenged them?”

Erin Warner:
Yeah. And I’d advise them to be curious about the whole person. Maybe they’re challenged, but it’s not things that work, but maybe things are going on in their life, maybe they have a sick relative, and just being curious about what challenges though are factoring into how they’re showing up and how we can support that.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah, absolutely. In your alumni story, you described the Piedmont sessions as a mirror for your practice, where you could literally see when the room leaned in or leaned back. And I’m curious, can you take us to a moment where you realized you needed to redesign the experience, not just the agenda?

Erin Warner:
I would say that we like to over-deliver. We really want to give so much information and content, but I think we know as facilitators and learners ourselves that there’s a certain point where it’s too much, the brain can’t take in anymore in a day.
And so, seeing that fatigue set in when we, out of goodwill, were just giving so much, but mid-afternoon people are just not receiving it anymore, then we can still provide value without providing more info and content, but actually providing space for them to integrate and reflect and connect with the content that we’ve already provided. So it’s not about quantity at that point, but it’s about quality.

Douglas Ferguson:
When you’re working with clients like that, and diving in the content and helping them find tools, integrate, go deeper on stuff, how often are you coming back and coaching later on? I’m always curious about the relationships that folks have with their clients when they’re working in a facilitative manner.
Some folks tend to spend more time coaching and there’s a little bit of group work that feels more facilitated. And then there are others who do nothing but the group work and they don’t do any coaching. I’m kind of curious where your blend is there.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. I don’t know how to quantify the blend. It’s a mix and it depends on the context. We do now, in the version of the workshops that we have evolved into, hold a lot of space for group coaching in the moment.
So the things that emerge, and if we see a consensus in the room like, “Yeah, I have that problem too,” then we pause, we don’t give any more content. We just have a group coaching moment, 10 minutes maybe right there, ’cause that’s what’s alive for them, that’s what they’re asking for.

Douglas Ferguson:
And what about after the session? Does it typically transition into some one-on-one coaching work after the session or are some of these sessions just purely a group education and you’re done with that team?

Erin Warner:
Yeah. I’d say that the majority of them don’t engage with us for further coaching and that that’s just the experience that they get in the room. Of course, sometimes that does happen. We go deeper, we get brought in house.
And I will say when we do, not in this Piedmont series that we’re talking about, but when we are already in house and we’re doing a workshop training for our company, very often we have what we call a follow-up program, where we follow them for like two months after the fact to give them accountability, support and coaching around applying whatever it was that they learned that day.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. I found that accountability can really help ensure the stickiness of what’s been learned in the more dynamic group session.

Erin Warner:
Absolutely. It’s very challenging to then go back to the demands and the pace of your normal workday and then try to apply new behaviors and shift things. We tend to go back to our default, and that’s human. And so, we do try to support people by giving them the structure and accountability, and the feedback and the coaching and all that.

Douglas Ferguson:
And I recall you also talked a lot about early formative experience that shaped your instincts as a facilitator before you even knew the word facilitation?

Erin Warner:
Yeah. So looking back, I really felt well when I was in a container of an excellent facilitator. Looking back, I can name it. At the time, I had no idea. A big example for me is Girl Scout camp. I absolutely adored Girl Scout camp. And I was kind of a shy introverted girl, and going to a camp, actually, it wasn’t with people I knew like these are all new girls, and they’re all strangers at the beginning and dear friends at the end. And how was that possible for me to have a positive experience is because of the counselors and the leaders who really facilitated a strong sense of belonging and connection.
And the way they did that was things that we might see in pop culture about camps, but there were things like songs that each little group had their own songs, so you had a feeling of belonging and identity, or simple things about like how we gathered for our meals, or even how we lined up and walked from like our tents to the dining hall. Or we would raise and lower the flag every morning and evening, and these rituals marking the deeds throughout the day. And it was really excellently facilitated, and I think it allowed me to thrive and feel welcome and safe and included. And I think that’s one of the things I love about facilitation.

Douglas Ferguson:
Rituals can be so soothing, this idea that we know what to do. We don’t have to have anxiety around what’s next or, “Am I fitting in right?” Or, “Am I doing the right thing?” Or, “Do I look funny?” It’s like, “No, I have a purpose to be here.” And so I think they can provide nice structures to kind of lean on.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. I really relate to that. I feel structure for me does make me feel safe and guided, and then you can flow within that. Then you can explore and be free, but you’re held in that structure, and I think that’s a really good feeling.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. It’s different just going to the gym and picking up some weights and throwing them around, versus having a program or even having a coach, or even being part of a class. It’s just a totally different feeling and experience, right?
You might be way more self-conscious just walking in a gym and heading over to the free weights and doing whatever, unless you’ve got a lot of experience. But if you go to a class and the instructor’s giving you some really specific instructions and moves and exercises, it feels way different. Right?

Erin Warner:
Yeah. Yeah. And that makes me think about my life. I moved a lot as a child to different schools and different states, and luckily I played sports, and that’s how I was able to make friends quickly, because I knew how we were going to interact. We’re going to get on the field, we’re going to hit the ball around.
Meanwhile, we’re chatting, we’re getting to know each other, we’re joking, we’re becoming friends, but that structure, I think, made it really easier and more accessible for me to connect with people quickly when I was the new person in a new place, in a new school.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. And when we’re invited to be parts of different new teams or new programs, or invited to work in new ways… And this comes up all the time because innovation is constantly shifting just the status quo, or what normal is, right?
We didn’t have all these AI tools five years ago, and yet, now they’re commonplace. So it’s changed the landscape on how we work. And having rituals surrounding that and underneath it helps us come together in a way that’s more knowable and more calming.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. And that makes me think of one team that I’m working with, they’re growing, so they’ve brought a lot of people on board in the past year. And the onboarding moment is so crucial, and there’s so much opportunity there to really let them know the culture and give them some structure of like, “This is how we do things.” Now you can flow within that, be yourself.”
But it gives them something to work with that I think is healthy for the collective and also for that individual. And it’s just such an important moment, that with the client that I work with, we’ve been iterating on to really capitalize on that moment.

Douglas Ferguson:
And how did studying civil rights at Reed’s College impact this? Were there formative moments there as well?

Erin Warner:
I studied civil rights because fairness is a value of mine, and anything that has to do with the racial inequality or discrimination on a very basic level, just has always struck me as unfair. Nonsensical really, but I’ll call it unfair because that’s how it registers in my value system.
For instance, in 2020, I found Voltage Control because I was looking for ways to develop my facilitation skills for my work. And at that time, there was a lot of racial upheaval in the US, and one of the first activities that I participated in was a remote gathering where a facilitator gave us space and processes to reflect on and share how we were feeling about what was going on in the country.
And this really meant a lot to me, because again, it was very helpful to have some structure around that, because otherwise, because I really care about these things and emotions were high, I could range from feeling overwhelmed and highly activated to just shut down and disconnected. And with a really skilled facilitator who gathered us that day online, it helped me have some clarity and moving the feelings through, and sharing them with other people and feeling not alone.
And I just had looked for facilitation ’cause I wanted to make my work, my corporate work stronger. I didn’t know it could also offer these things that were so related to my deeply held values. And discovering that was really amazing because then I was even more excited about facilitation. I feel like it truly can be something for civic engagement.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. I remember you telling me that you had planned to work quietly at that first Facilitation lab. And so bring me back to Erin showing up, assuming that you’re going to just kind of lurk and be quiet and soak it in. How did that unfold for you? How did you get sucked in?

Erin Warner:
Yeah. So, I just showed up with curiosity wanting to observe, which was pretty common in those days. I was on a lot of calls we were passively observing, and the facilitator gave us a really deep prompt, which was, “When was the last time that you cried?” And then he put us into breakout rooms of two people. So there I was one-on-one with somebody. I had my camera off.
And of course, I’m always at choice. No one had a gun to my head. No one forced me to do it, but I did decide like, “Hey, I’m here with this person, I’ve been given this really human question, and I’m going to turn on my camera.” And we proceeded to have a conversation that I do remember to this day, because he vulnerably shared crying recently, more out of joy ’cause he had just finished a big milestone in his life, and that was beautiful.
And I was actually in a moment of my life that was not easy. I was feeling really down in that period. And so, just being able to share not a specific cry, but crying or feeling like crying was a feeling I was living with. And just being able to be witnessed in that. He didn’t try to fix it or anything, but it was a beautiful moment, and so unexpected that that kind of connection could happen across space and time and screens.

Douglas Ferguson:
How did that unexpected intimacy shift your sense of what a gathering can do?

Erin Warner:
It really raised my ambitions, to be honest, in a good way. It showed me that the limits were my imagination and my courage to make bold invitations. That was a bold invitation, to ask us to reflect and share when was the last time we cried, and it has to be handled delicately.
And I’m glad that I’ve invested in this skill and that you train people in this skill, but with the right care and craft, so much is possible, so much depth and healing and connection, and delight and wonder. And so yeah, the lesson I took from that is that really anything is possible with the intention and courage to pursue it.

Douglas Ferguson:
And as you got deeper in the facilitation, so it’s 2020, you’re attending these sessions, you’re kind of going deeper, you’re experimenting more, what would you say was the first idea that you tested with your participants, and what changed for them as you started to make some of these experiments?

Erin Warner:
I think as I started to make experiments with facilitation, what changed from my participants was their own sense of empowerment, because with great facilitation, you really are empowering the people in the room to generate their own experience, their own collective wisdom, their own decisions.
And I think that is refreshing for them and energizing and motivating. And so, I’d say that’s probably one of the biggest gifts that I’ve been able to offer now that I lean more on facilitation, is the empowerment of the participants.

Douglas Ferguson:
Do you recall a specific story? Does anything come to mind when you noticed this empowerment, and what was the facilitation move that really unlocked that?

Erin Warner:
I was working with a group that was not connecting as a team. And we were literally trying to do team building, and help them feel and function as a team instead of a group of solo practitioners, individuals. And I think it was really important that we facilitated them through what that meant to them and what that would look like, what would make them feel like part of a team.
So we used some of my favorite activities, we used TRIZ, which I think goes by some other names sometimes, like inverse thinking or opposite thinking. But TRIZ is basically where you say, “If you wanted to have the most dysfunctional team ever, where no one trusts each other and everyone’s at cross purposes, what activities would you do?”
And we have them brainstorm and share, and then we kind of turn the tables on them and say, “Okay, which one of these activities are you currently doing?” And to create safety, I let them keep that anonymous. I didn’t ask them to share it with everyone. They weren’t outing themselves, but just like, “Be honest with yourself. Which one of these are you doing?”
And then giving them not a to do list, but a not to do list. So like, “I’m not going to give you any extra work, but I’m going to ask you to just stop doing one of those things that you identified that’s counter to building a team.”
And so, I think that was a moment where they felt like, “Hey, we are responsible for creating our own reality of whether we function as a team or not, and here’s some insight and awareness around that. And now, here’s an action that I can take.” But I didn’t tell them what to do. They told themselves what to do.

Douglas Ferguson:
TRIZ is fantastic, and I think the biggest challenge with TRIZ is getting folks to follow that rule of not identifying new things to do, but identifying things to stop. Everyone always wants to say, “Oh, they’ll turn the stopping thing to a doing thing.”
And if we can really hold people to that notion or that rule, that ritual of identifying the thing we’re going to stop doing, that’s really powerful because it creates room for other things we’ve been wanting to do.

Erin Warner:
Yeah, it is really powerful. And that’s one where I have the privilege to work with some of the people in that group individually. And so be able to follow up with them after, like, “How is it going? Are you able to…”
Sometimes these things are habits, you’re not even conscious you’re doing them, so stopping isn’t always easy. So checking in, “Are you able to break that habit, shift that, make a different choice in that moment?”

Douglas Ferguson:
I’ve even seen participants, they get really clever, they use double negatives. So it sounds like, “We need to stop not having annual report.” It’s like, “Hey, you’re just saying we need to start making an annual report. What are we doing that’s getting in our way? Let’s identify those things and stop them.”

Erin Warner:
Yeah, exactly. Like, “I’m on to you.”

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. They have little tricks, of course.

Erin Warner:
They do. They do, because it’s hard, and I get that. It’s hard to look in the mirror, take responsibility, and accept that there’s things that we’re doing that are productive and there’s other things that are counterproductive, and let’s let those go, but it’s not easy.
There’s a reason. I also tried to share with them in this particular case, empathy and understanding, “I know there’s a reason you’re doing these things. You’re not doing them to sabotage the team. They’re serving some function.”

Douglas Ferguson:
Or they served a function in the past.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. But if they’re still serving a function, “Okay, it’s going to be hard to stop doing it until we get to the root cause, and then address that in a different way or resolve it so that you don’t feel the need to do that anymore.”

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. Sometimes people feel the need to do the things because of, coming back to that word we were talking about earlier, ritual. If it’s become customary or ritualistic, then I think these activities can be powerful to connect back to the purpose and, “Why are we doing these things?”
And if we’re doing things that are counterproductive to what we’re wanting to accomplish, and we can’t really attach to any real meaningful why, and it’s just for historic purposes, then we should probably get rid of those things.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. In this particular case, what we identified, many of the counterproductive behaviors were stemming from trust or lack of trust. So either maybe micromanaging because I don’t trust that person’s going to follow through, or maybe double checking because I don’t trust that that person’s got my back. So, a lot of it came down to trust was producing counterproductive behaviors, that once that was addressed, which is no simple feat, it would help them function better as a team.

Douglas Ferguson:
I’m also remembering that you were given some coaching advice, “Don’t conform,” that was powerful and reflection, because you said it gave you permission to bring your full self to the work. And I’m curious, can you share a moment when you felt the pull to fit a mold and instead chose authenticity?

Erin Warner:
Yeah. Well, I want to share that that advice came from Eric when I was in the Voltage Control Certification, ’cause I had noticed a pattern in myself of once I train and learn the way things are done, then I feel pressure that I put on myself to conform. And then that drains me of the enthusiasm that I initially had, and my unique contribution that I might be able to make.
And I mentioned this pattern that I was trying to shift and resist, and Eric really gave me the greatest gift of saying to me, “Your unique perspective is an asset. It is your contribution and it will attract people to you who resonate with that, so don’t conform.” And it was really meaningful to me. He gave me that advice.
And one time that that came into play was actually when I had been invited to facilitate a session at the Voltage Control Summit, which was a really exciting opportunity for me and one of the bigger stages I had ever been on. And I felt a lot of enthusiasm at first. I was like, “This is great.” And then I started to feel resistance and procrastination.
And I’m glad that I was able to identify it was because I was starting to feel like it was a performance and I needed to show up the way I thought a capital F facilitator would show up and not as me. And then I remembered, “These people know me well, they know who I am, they know my vibe. And if they asked me to do this, it’s because they want me to do it, not me pretending to be someone else.”
But I was able to make that connection because of that amazing advice Eric had given me a couple of years prior, and it continues to be something I reinforce to myself regularly.

Douglas Ferguson:
I love that. It’s reassuring to tap into who we are and let that shine.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. I always tell myself, “I’ll be an infinitely better version of myself than I ever will be of anybody else. Just be my best self. Don’t be my best imitation of somebody else.”

Douglas Ferguson:
That reminds me, one thing that’s unique about you and your approach is how you’ve woven fitness into your work, and how that’s a hallmark of how you think about facilitation and how that shows up for you. So I’d be curious to know more about that. And I’m sure the listeners would be interesting to hear how you kind of weave that into your style.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. I really believe there’s a lot of wisdom in the body, and also a lot of energy and pleasure. And so, I think it’s great to bring those things online. That’s exactly what I brought to the summit. I led a session on embodied decision making. And I have a background as I used to be a lawyer. And I love decision making. I think it’s really powerful and one of the greatest outcomes we can bring in facilitation, if that’s what’s been requested. And so I wanted to bring those two things together, and what does our body tell us when we’re sensing into a decision?
And so, giving people opportunity to actually feel how they feel about a decision gives them information, like, “Do I feel comfortable with this? Do I feel torn?” That’s a metaphor for your body being split. So, one thing I particularly like is if you have a few options, to set up stations in the room where those options are being represented. And you can mingle and look around, walk through the room, walk through the space to evaluate them. And then when it’s time to vote, to literally go walk and stand in that space.
And in this experience, little by little, got narrowed down to two. And maybe your top choice is no longer available and there’s only two choices left, and you have to walk to one of the two options that’s left. There’s a lot of information for you and for the facilitator in your walking. “Am I walking with hesitation or with enthusiasm? Am I literally dragging my feet? Am I feeling like I don’t want to walk over there?”
And I think that’s the wisdom in the body versus just checking a box on a ballot, for example. So, I love to bring in the wisdom of even it could be standing up or sitting down to represent your point of view, or walking closer or further to a certain point to represent more like your temperature on that decision.

Douglas Ferguson:
Yeah. It’s kind of about tuning in, and it’s making me think about your 3D Wellness concept.

Erin Warner:
Yeah. So I do have a background also as a fitness teacher. And I was teaching on Zoom during the era when we were all online during the pandemic. And I had a big aha moment, when at the end of my classes that I would do every week on Zoom, people would stay and chat and laugh, and joke around and commiserate for a long time, like 30 minutes minimum. And then I might close the room at that point, but people were loving it.
And so, I realized that people were coming for the fitness, but they were staying for the connection. And I realized that what I was offering them was not only physical wellness, but also emotional wellness within themselves as an individual and social wellness within the collective. And so I named that 3D Wellness and that’s something that I try to offer in all of my experiences.

Douglas Ferguson:
So, as your clients begin to experience the impact of this work and you bring on more facilitation and the Exec’s offerings, how are you aligning with long-term clients who expect content for a delivery so they can embrace a more participatory, co-creative way of working?

Erin Warner:
Honestly, it’s not feeling like a very hard sell right now. I find that people are actually hungry for this. They’re hungry to participate and be asked to contribute. We do live in a time where there’s no shortage of information. And if we’re gathering in person and making that effort, it’s starting to be, I feel like, in the zeitgeist that people feel like, “It’s a waste of time to do something I could do on YouTube or research myself.”
And so, we’re building on the abundance of information that’s available. We will refresh it and we will bring some teaching always to anchor what we’re going to be focusing on, but our clients are really on board with getting to roll up their sleeves and play with it and apply it. And everyone wants results, so they want to know like, “What is this going to do for me? What’s the point?” And that’s what facilitation is. They get to immediately use it and see how it’s going to benefit their company, their culture, their customers, and just their day to day.

Douglas Ferguson:
We’ve talked a bit about how you are ready to and have stepped into moments of leadership for corporate rooms and intimate circles alike. And I’m curious what signals tell you a team is genuinely ready to do the self-awareness and shared responsibility work this approach requires?

Erin Warner:
So when we’re scoping and engagement and making the plans with the leader who’s bringing us in house, we really want to be of service in a practical way. And so we lead with that, “This is not just like a nice to know, ‘I read the book and now I’m done.'” We are very results oriented and I think leaders like to hear that, but they also want to know, “But how is that going to happen?”
And so then we can explain to them about facilitation, “That we will bring in some content that’s going to anchor our focus. Everyone knows that this is the topic today, and then we are going to actually…” I like to make the word responsible into a verb, like, “We’re going to responsiblize the people in the room for their own upleveling and their own professional development,” because they’re adults and they’re going to learn better too if they feel autonomous and empowered and responsible.
And so, I think that’s how we get leaders on board with the style of learning that we’re offering that’s interactive and participatory. And I think they want to hear that it’s not just going to be silly games and icebreakers, but it’s going to be actually really deep and potentially rigorous for an outcome that shows results, ’cause that’s the name of the game, I think, for the leaders.
And then in the room, we kind of give a recap of that and say, “Hey, we are going to talk about this topic today and then we’re going to put it back in your lap, in your hands to generate the connections and ahas and the takeaways, and the action items and how you’re going to apply it. We’re not here to tell you what to do. We’re here to help you discover what makes sense for you to choose, to commit to, and then to help you have accountability and support around doing that.”

Douglas Ferguson:
We haven’t talked about Head + Heart much, so I’m curious to learn more about the vision there and what experiments you’re excited to run in the next year to test that vision.

Erin Warner:
In my personal life, I’ve been on what I call a self-love journey, where I really learned a lot of things about myself and healed some things, and reframed some self-limiting and beliefs that I had. And it really changed my life, and I’m so grateful that I did that.
And so now, what’s really meaningful to me in this chapter is to make a new, more personal offering. It’s completely separate from the corporate work that I do, and it’s self-love and empowerment, experiences, gatherings and coaching.
And I’m a very word-oriented person, and so what I’m offering is actually thinking about words as literal magic spells that we use every day to create our reality. And so, harnessing the power of words to create a reality that is more empowering.
My background is in law, and law is a great example of words creating reality. You can go to jail or not based on following the things that are written down in a law book. They have the coercive power of the state behind them, but that gives them power, and it’s just words.
Words that we say to ourselves, self-talk definitely creates our reality. It creates our frame of mind, the decisions that we make, the way we respond to people. That’s a big focus of the work that I’m doing now.
And in facilitation, the words, the invitations that the facilitator offers is creating an immersive experience that is the reality for the people in that room in that moment.
So, I’m really excited to be exploring this in partnership with people who want to go on this journey with me. And it’s just a very personal offering that I am making in this chapter in my life.

Douglas Ferguson:
Wonderful. And as we come to a close, I want to invite you to leave our listeners with a final thought.

Erin Warner:
So my final thought is that words are literal magic spells that create our reality, so use them wisely, especially the ones that you say to yourself. And words are the tools that empower us to connect courageously, communicate clearly and collaborate creatively.

Douglas Ferguson:
So great chatting with you, Erin. I look forward to the next time we’re able to sit down and talk, and thanks for coming on the show.

Erin Warner:
Yeah, I look forward to that as well, and it was a pleasure to chat with you, Douglas. Thank you.

Douglas Ferguson:
Thanks for joining me for another episode of the Facilitation Lab Podcast. If you enjoyed the episode, please leave us a review, and be sure to subscribe and receive updates when new episodes are released.
We love listener tales and invite you to share your facilitation stories. Send them to us on LinkedIn or via email. If you want to know more, head over to our blog where I post weekly articles and resources about facilitation, team dynamics and collaboration, voltagecontrol.com.

The post The Greatest Secrets to Engaging Facilitation: Unlocking Team Potential appeared first on Voltage Control.

New years are crisp thresholds. The calendar flips, and whether we like it or not, our attention snaps to what was and what could be. Thresholds can be disorienting—or incredibly clarifying—depending on how we approach them. At Voltage Control, we’re leaning all the way in. Our Summit in February is dedicated to Edges: the personal edges each of us are facing, and the edges our organizations are standing on. January is our invitation to notice those edges, name them, and practice stepping across them with care.

This month’s newsletter blends reflection and action. You’ll find ways to read the signals that you (and your teams) are near an edge, simple structures to design consent-based stretches, and practical tools to turn momentum into durable habits. We’re also featuring one of our favorite liberating structures as the Activity of the Month—What, So What, Now What—to help you reflect on last year and align on meaningful next steps for the year ahead.

Whether you’re a full-time facilitator, a leader who facilitates, or a graduate of our certification programs guiding transformation inside your company, this is for you. Edges sharpen our ability to change. Let’s cross the new year’s threshold with clarity, consent, and momentum.

Seeing edges clearly

Edges show up long before we name them. Sometimes the first signals are somatic: a quickened pulse before a decision, shallow breath as a meeting gets thorny, a jaw that tightens when roles are fuzzy. Other times it’s the stories we tell ourselves—reasons to delay, a pattern of avoidance, or a sudden insistence on perfect plans. As facilitators and leaders, we can train our attention on these cues, and normalize talking about them. “I’m noticing I’m rushed here” or “I’m feeling some uncertainty about scope” names the edge so fear has somewhere to sit and listen instead of driving the bus.

Edges are also social. Every group carries collective signals of stretch: silence after a challenging prompt, debate that circles without criteria, or a burst of energy that fizzles once action is mentioned. Reading those signals lets you calibrate your next move. You can offer choice and pacing—two safety rails for brave work. Rather than pushing, invite: “Would you like to explore this now, or do we need one more beat to gather context?” Consent-based stretches preserve dignity while still moving the room.

Finally, remember that edges exist at multiple levels simultaneously: the community’s edge, the organization’s edge, the team’s edge, and each individual’s edge. When you acknowledge those layers out loud, people feel seen and supported. You also resist the trap of treating a system-level edge like an individual performance issue—or vice versa. The new year is a perfect moment to check in across all levels and name the edges that matter most.

Step across with openers, agreements, and prototypes

If edges are thresholds, openers are the doorway. Thoughtful openers help people step into an intentional state—individually and together. This month, try an opener that surfaces the threshold explicitly. For example: “What edge are you bringing into this meeting—something you’re ready to try, a risk you’re weighing, or an assumption you’re open to revisiting?” Follow with a quick energy and risk appetite check. A simple “Low/Medium/High” on both gives you a read on where to set the tempo.

Working agreements are your threshold guardrails. Invite the group to author or revisit three agreements for Q1: one about how we decide, one about how we learn, and one about how we care for each other. Keep them short, testable, and visible. The moment you write an agreement, you also create the opportunity to tune it. Ask, “What would make this easy to live with daily?” and “How will we know it’s working?” Agreements make bold moves legible and fair.

This is also the season to trade resolutions for prototypes. Instead of a sweeping commitment like “We’ll transform our meeting culture,” run a tiny, time-boxed experiment: “For four weeks, we will end every meeting with a two-minute Now What and record actions in our project board.” Name a single owner, define “good enough,” start small, and harvest loud. Small commitments beat sprawling plans, and earned buy-in beats selling. When the prototype delivers value, scale it with evidence—not hype.

Reversible bets, identity choices, and mission clarity

Not all edges are created equal. Some are reversible—if you step and don’t like what you see, you can step back. Others are identity-shaping—decisions that, once made, define who you are as a team or company. Your decision approach should match the type of edge. Use consent for reversible bets: “Is anyone opposed to trying this for two sprints?” Use consensus for identity choices: “Do we agree this is who we are and how we’ll be known?” Getting that distinction right prevents decision whiplash and builds trust.

If your organization feels like it’s at a fuzzy edge of mission, resist the urge to wordsmith your way out. Pilot short, sharp experiments that test the mission in the real world. “We believe our impact increases when we teach leaders to facilitate. For the next six weeks, we’ll run two micro-cohorts and measure demand, retention, and downstream behavior change.” Harvest the evidence, make sense of it together, and sharpen your language only after the data speaks. Experiments plus evidence clarify mission faster than debates.

Make roles and records explicit. When you approach a company edge, name who’s the driver (responsible for forward motion), who’s the decider (accountable for the choice), and who are the advisors (offering input). Publish the artifact that records the pathway—assumptions, criteria, options considered, and the decision. This makes the move legible later, reduces rumor and re-litigation, and helps new teammates learn how and why the choice was made. Visibility is oxygen for culture.

Diverge, converge, and guard your cadence

Edges invite urgency—and urgency, when unexamined, invites haste. Haste blurs the edge in unhelpful ways. The antidote is cadence. Slow the early moments just enough to see the whole chessboard, then move with speed on aligned actions. Use the simple sequence we teach leaders and facilitators: criteria first, options second, decision last. When groups decide without criteria, they argue preferences; with criteria, they reason together.

Diverge and converge with intent. Start by diverging on perspectives: Collect “What” without judgment—facts, observations, what happened. Then “So What” to make meaning—patterns, implications, consequences. Finally “Now What” to choose actions. This arc prevents premature action and gives you a shared map of reality. When an edge feels particularly charged, widen the aperture with 1-2-4-All before converging. If energy is low, keep it simple: a quick note-and-vote inside the Now What can move you to commitment.

Asynchronous check-ins warm cold feet. Before a big threshold meeting, ask two or three edge questions and gather input async. For example: “What edge do you think our team is approaching this quarter?” and “What would make a stretch here feel like a choice, not a push?” You’ll surface concerns that are hard to voice live, reduce surprises, and enter the room with context. As a bonus, async contributions create a durable record you can harvest later.

Activity of the Month What, So What, Now What

What, So What, Now What is our January go-to because it meets the moment. It’s a lightweight retrospective that helps people see the whole board before moving the next piece. Perfect for closing a project, making sense of last year, or aligning a cross-functional group at the start of Q1. Its power lies in sequence: observe, make meaning, then act. That sequence is a threshold in itself—one you can cross together in 20 minutes or deepen over an hour.

Here’s a fast way to run it in a 30-minute meeting:

– What (7 minutes): Prompt participants to capture observations from last year or the last sprint. “What happened? What did we try? What did we learn? What surprised us?” Use silent writing for 2 minutes, then 1-2-4-All for 5 minutes to widen the lens and cluster the key facts.

– So What (10 minutes): Shift to sense-making. “What patterns do we see? What matters most? What were the consequences—intended and unintended?” Invite pairs to pull out two implications that feel consequential, and then dot-vote as a group to prioritize the top three.

– Now What (10 minutes): Convert insights into commitments. “Given what we learned, what will we do next? What will we stop, start, continue?” Capture decisions as action statements with a single owner, a target date, and a signal of success. Record them in your project tool before you close.

Layer other liberating structures as needed. For hybrid teams, keep time visible and instructions simple. Use 1-2-4-All inside each step, or add note-and-vote to converge on the most meaningful patterns during So What. If you’re reflecting on the entire year, extend the What by five minutes and prompt “highs, lows, surprises.” If your group tends to leap to action, put a timer on So What and require at least three distinct implications before you move to Now What. If you’re a visual learner, watch the Activity Video What So What Now What on our site for a quick walkthrough.

Finally, make your Now Whats durable. Decide in advance where actions will live—your project management board, a shared doc, or a team dashboard. Keep the process light, but make it visible. Protect accountability with a cadence, not a burden. A five-minute review at the start of your weekly sync will keep commitments alive and build momentum without bureaucracy. Small commitments beat sprawling plans—especially in January.

Getting ready for the Summit Edges

In February, our community will gather for the Summit to explore Edges from many angles: how they show up in facilitation, how to work with them as leaders, and how to design experiences that help groups cross thresholds with consent and clarity. We’ll close with a collective practice to identify the edges each attendee is ready to step into next. Consider this your pre-work: What edge are you already aware of? What edge might be hiding in plain sight?

Invite your team into that pre-work with lightweight prompts. Share a short async check-in with three questions: 1) What edge do you see for yourself this quarter? 2) What edge do you see for our team or company? 3) What would make a stretch here feel like a choice, not a push? Ask for a one-sentence answer to each, plus an optional “signal” they’d want to notice if progress is real. Then harvest themes and bring them into your next team opener. You’ll arrive at the Summit (or your own internal summit) warmed up and aligned.

Remember that different edges call for different invitations. For a team-level edge (e.g., “We need to improve cross-functional handoffs”), use consent for a reversible prototype: “For two sprints, we’ll test a one-page handoff brief with a 24-hour feedback window.” For a company-level identity edge (e.g., “We exist to develop facilitative leaders”), design a consensus process: gather input, draft statements, test them against evidence, and decide together. Both paths benefit from tiny pilots, loud harvests, and visible artifacts. Edges clarify mission when experiments meet evidence.

Renew your rituals and harvest your momentum

January is a powerful time to renew rituals that encode culture. Revisit openers and closers, not as formalities but as threshold technologies. Choose one opener you’ll use for the next month that helps people step into the edge at hand. For example: “Name one assumption you’re willing to examine today” or “Share a signal you’ll watch this week that tells you we’re learning.” Keep it short, repeat it consistently, and tune it for group size without losing intention.

Design closers that harvest what matters. A two-minute checkout can surface confidence, concerns, and commitments. Try: “One insight I’m taking, one concern I’m naming, and one next step I’m owning.” Capture those now whats where they’ll live—your task board or a simple shared doc. Add a light measurement and a return date: “We’ll check back on this in two weeks.” If it isn’t harvested, it withers; if it’s recorded and revisited, it compounds.

Make the invisible visible. Post working agreements where they’re easy to find. Add your opener and closer to the meeting agenda template. Keep a humble log of experiments, owners, dates, and outcomes. The more visible the path, the safer the edge feels. You’ll create a marked trail the team can follow, adjust, and teach to newcomers. And with a steady cadence, you’ll transform January energy into durable practice—not just a burst of enthusiasm that melts like fresh snow in the sun.

As you cross the new year’s threshold, here are three simple moves to start strong this week:

-Run a 20-minute What, So What, Now What with your team to reflect on last year or your first sprint. Record three Now Whats with owners and dates.

– Pick one opener and one closer you’ll use for the next month. Keep them short, make them visible, and tune them lightly based on group size.

– Choose one tiny prototype to replace a big resolution. Time-box it for two to four weeks, name an owner, define “good enough,” and harvest loud when you review.

We’d love to explore your edges with you. Join us at the Summit in February to dive deep into personal and organizational edges, practice consent-based stretches, and leave with prototypes you can run the next day. Bring your team or come solo—you’ll find community either way. If you can’t attend live, reply, and we’ll share highlights and tools you can use. This is the moment to step forward with intention. Let’s cross the threshold together.

The post Edgework in January appeared first on Voltage Control.

I like to tell people that facilitation found me long before I had the word for it. I graduated from law school at Universidad Católica Andrés Bello in Caracas in 1989 and, almost immediately, joined the Attorney General’s Office. I was young—early twenties—and suddenly sitting in rooms where large-scale restructuring was underway. Venezuela was opening conversations about human rights, environmental rights, and a new way of doing justice that wasn’t only about prosecuting, but also advocating. Those rooms got my attention.

What captivated me first wasn’t just the content; it was the process. The facilitators who guided us came from the Venezuelan oil industry, which, at that time, was the most internationally trained sector in the country. They brought methods they had learned overseas—logical, structured, human. In one session, someone introduced a fishbone diagram. It might sound funny, but that simple diagram changed something in me. I could see cause and effect, the root and the branches, clearly organized on a wall. It made sense immediately.

I raised my hand. I was the youngest in the room—twenty-two or twenty-three—and I stood up in front of my seniors and some of my former law professors and walked them through the fishbone. Honestly, it felt wild at the time. It also felt natural. Synthesizing came easy. Standing in front of people, listening, organizing, and then presenting back—I didn’t have to overthink it. It was the first time I thought, I want to do more of this.

From there, a thread emerged. Whenever the office needed someone to make sense of a complex issue or rally people around a plan, I’d jump in. Team builders, strategic sessions—anything where aligning people mattered. I started to see facilitation not as “running a meeting,” but as managing a process and enabling trust. That framing stuck with me as I changed jobs, moved countries, and built a career.

In 1995 I came to the U.S. for a Master’s in Public Policy at Georgetown, and after graduating in 1997,  I entered international development. For nearly three decades I worked across more than twenty countries, especially in governance: decentralization and local government at first—municipalities and citizens—then transparency and anti-corruption, and later citizen security and justice. I was the guy people sent into complex situations to calm the noise, build trust with stakeholders, and move teams toward results. It worked because I listened, synthesized, and created a structure people could recognize themselves in. Whether or not I called it facilitation, that was the work.

Curiosity Reignited in the Desert

Years later, I found myself in Jordan to help start up a new program. I realized we needed a workshop to align our partners, the client,  and the team. No one asked me to facilitate, but I drafted the agenda, clarified the outcomes, and ran it—English with Arabic translation. When we finished, people were energized. They had clarity. It felt like a confirmation. Facilitation wasn’t something I did occasionally; it was a way I worked.

Back home I kept thinking about how I’d been postponing formal training. I had logic frameworks, theory-of-change models, cause-and-effect trees—tools I’d picked up across the years—but I wanted a deeper foundation and a community of practice. I started asking around. Andrés Márquez, a professional facilitator  who does a lot of international work, suggested a few options and mentioned Voltage Control.

What I saw on the Voltage Control site resonated: a participatory approach, a clear methodology, a practical toolkit I could apply immediately. The arc of the program felt right for someone like me who was working full-time and needed something both rigorous and manageable. I didn’t need theory alone; I needed tools I could touch and use. The more I read, the more I felt, this is it.

What I couldn’t anticipate was the timing. On a Friday at 1 PM, in one of our certification sessions, we learned that USAID, my main client, would be eliminated. The following week, layoff emails started landing. Everything got loud. In a matter of days, the career I had invested three decades in—designing, negotiating, and steering complex programs around the world—suddenly paused. And there I was, in this facilitation training, trying to make sense of it all.

Choosing My Next Room

In that moment, the decision to commit to Voltage Control wasn’t hard. I knew I needed to pivot, and I knew I wanted facilitation to be part of what came next. Originally, I imagined becoming the go-to facilitator inside my firm. We had always outsourced facilitation for work plans, team building, and strategic sessions, and I wanted to build that capacity in-house. Then the layoff happened, and the context shifted. The commitment didn’t.

What drew me in specifically was the structure and the ethos. Three months felt doable with my schedule, and the program promised practice, not just concepts. The principles matched how I’d led for years—lead by influence, not authority; build trust; be intentional about inclusion. And the materials—the canvases, methods, and ways to open and close a session—were things I could see myself applying immediately.

I also wanted to be part of a community. I’ve spent years in rooms where the stakes are high and power dynamics complex. Doing that work without peers can be lonely. Seeing the cohort design of the program and the emphasis on psychological safety stood out. I didn’t want a certification that lived in a PDF. I wanted a practice with people who cared about the craft.

The Room That Held Me

Something beautiful happened in our cohort. From the first sessions, there was a sense of closeness, even though we hadn’t met in person. People showed up honestly. They offered help without being asked. When someone hit a block on their portfolio, a few of us would jump on a call to think it through. By the time we closed, the emotion in the room felt real. We had become a community.

The tools were great, but the way we were taught to use them mattered more. How to open a session in a way that sets purpose and tone. How to hold space in the messy middle. How to close with clarity so people leave knowing what’s next. Techniques for dealing with difficult conversations—surfacing tension, reflecting it back, and transforming it into shared understanding. I’ve always seen myself as a strategic facilitator more than a “one-meeting” facilitator, and these moves translated across programs, organizations, and crisis contexts.

My biggest aha wasn’t a single technique, though the book Leading with Purpose hit me hard—especially the idea that when you limit, you create freedom. My aha was more personal. The certification was happening right when my professional world was shifting under my feet. The portfolio work forced me to ask, Who am I as a facilitator? What am I here to do? I realized I’m not just interested in running workshops; I want to design and facilitate processes—public consultations, multi-stakeholder dialogues, complex governance conversations—where the work itself is how people build new futures together.

The Strategic Moves I Now Make

If I think about what changed most for me post-certification, it’s my awareness. I’ve always led by influence. I’ve always believed in listening actively and making sure people feel seen and heard. The program gave me more precise ways to do those things and to explain them to others. Now, when I lead meetings, I go in with a sharper purpose, I design for inclusion, and I close with well-defined next steps. People leave knowing what we decided, why it matters, and how we’ll move.

It also reframed what I’ve been doing all these years as facilitation. In international development, I often ran into fires. A new program was spinning. A client was frustrated. The team wasn’t aligned. Time and again, I’d slow things down and move the conversation from “deliverables” to “understanding.” One story that I always share is about a school-based violence prevention program in Central America. The client wanted an education project; we were approaching it as citizen security. We were talking past each other. Instead of defending our plan, I wrote a concept note and used it as a neutral artifact to anchor the dialogue. I brought in an education expert alongside a security expert so we could speak the same language. Then we facilitated a negotiation workshop—client and team in the room—where we clarified objectives, activities, and indicators together. It changed the trajectory of that program. That move—step back, listen, co-define the frame, and then co-design the work—is pure facilitation.

Another shift is about enjoyment. Leading meetings used to be something I did because it was needed. Now, I genuinely enjoy it. There’s satisfaction in watching a room turn from fragmented to focused, from guarded to collaborative. My metric isn’t just, Did we decide? It’s, Did people feel empowered to shape the decision? That’s the bar I bring into my work now, whether I’m consulting, supporting a nonprofit board, or advising on strategy.

Designing the Space Between Power and People

Looking ahead, I’m clear about the space where I want to practice: the space between institutions and communities. Multilateral banks, private sector firms in energy or extractives, public agencies—these actors often enter communities with infrastructure or reform plans. If the process is top-down, resistance rises, and the project suffers. If the process is participatory—if communities are heard early and often, if trade-offs are transparent, if there’s shared ownership—then the project can become a platform for trust-building rather than conflict. That’s facilitation. It’s also governance.

I’m actively exploring work that centers public consultation and complex stakeholder dialogue in multilateral banks and corporations, .., In my strategic plan, I can see exactly how the tools and methods from the certification would help these institutions design better consultation processes—agenda design that capture multiple agendas, openers that invite voice, frames that create shared language, decision-making structures that are fair and clear, closures that convert engagement into agreed next steps, and results that are widely disseminated to ensure ownership from participants.

Alongside that, I’m leaning into social impact and philanthropy work with nonprofits and foundations. I sit on the board of an anti-human trafficking organization here in Florida. . My consultant brain wants to rush to solutions, but my facilitator brain says bring people together. Design the process. Help them define specific solutions  and how they’ll measure progress. Then co-create the path. That’s what I’ll be doing with them—using facilitation to support growth of  the organization from the inside out.

I’m also leaving space for something I couldn’t have imagined six months ago: building something of my own. When the layoff news landed during our Friday session, it was painful. It was also clarifying. The constant across my career wasn’t a job description or a contract vehicle. It was a way of working—strategic facilitation—that fits who I am. Whether I’m supporting a government ministry, a multilateral, a foundation, or a neighborhood coalition, that’s the craft I’m bringing forward.

If you’re considering certification, here’s my honest take: do it. Not because you want to stand in front of a room with sticky notes—though you might—but because facilitation is a leadership language. It teaches you to listen deeply, align people around shared understanding, and move groups toward decisions they own. It helped me reframe thirty years of experience and gave me tools I can apply everywhere—from a tense client meeting to a nonprofit board retreat to a multi-stakeholder consultation on a new public policy. Read the materials. Practice the methods immediately. The more you use them, the more natural they become.

And if your career is in flux or you’re navigating a big pivot, you’re not alone. I lost the path I’d been walking right in the middle of the program, on a Friday at 1 PM. The cohort held me and the craft pointed me forward. Facilitation gave me words for what I’ve always done and courage for what’s next. If something in this story resonates, take the step. Join a cohort. Bring your questions and your voice. There’s room for you in this work, and we need you.

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