Invitation to Openness
Author: Risa Prezzano, 2024 cohort member
The view of Lake Superior from a little rest area south of Grand Marais (2024).
Last year was a year of tangible progress for me with resonating feedback given by colleagues, friends, family, and community. What was different from all the other years was my presence for openness, intentional conversation, and ensuring time for self-awareness. I was accepted into and completed a life changing 9-month executive leadership fellowship with the Council on Foundations known as Career Pathways. The connections I made from that, have not left me and my world has grown bigger ever since the official first day. In June this year, I will have been at my current role at the MacArthur Foundation for 7 years. This is the longest I have been at a full-time job because for the first time, I am no longer seeking and building, but managing relationships within my community, am in a position of stability, and have a sense of belonging. I begin 2024 with another exciting learning opportunity through the Green Communities Leadership Institute’s third cohort. I’ve had a shift in mind-set, increased confidence, driven by my values, my passion, a reassessment of priorities, clear purpose, an open horizon, while continuing to be inspired by people.
Caption: A fortune cookie message that has been on my fridge since 2018. (Photo: Grand Marais 2023)
Creating Time for Reflection
In the hustle and bustle of 2023, Rachel Hatch, a mentor of mine, recommended a book called Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation by Parker J. Palmer. I’ll admit that I never had time to look at it until a recent four-day weekend, which I finally got around to. I’ve always worked, rarely one and usually multiple jobs, participated in hobbies, and engaged in volunteer work at a time. I applied for the Green Communities Leadership Institute (GCLI) because I wanted to look for fields of intersectionality, map out my next steps, and make a promise to myself. This promise is the practice and process of reflection. The same way deciduous trees hibernate in their unique way of braving the winter season, the GCLI program is my way of making time for personal dormancy and my commitment to holding space for reflection. Highlighting the importance of slowing down metabolic processes and conserving energy to withstand the frigid winter temperatures. It is intentional and a sustainable survival tactic.
If I could have a career that allows me to increase the time spent with trees without throwing away what I worked hard for to get to where I am at, I would have achieved my why. Inspired by colleagues who volunteer to aid non-profits in Puerto Rico run efficient solar panel systems, I want to find more opportunities for technologists to help organizations fight climate change. I love my volunteer work with Openlands as a TreeKeeper because it connects me with the people. Within the tech sector, it is no surprise that there are underground tree keepers, beekeepers, grounds keepers, birders, plants, wildlife, and nature lovers. We are not working in silos as much as it might appear to be. People value their connection to each other and the land, but are not always aware of where our paths meet.
Triptych Trees of my Roots: (Left) Cherry blossom tree that grew up with me, growing alongside, always making me feel at home. (Center) My Lolo and Lola on my father’s side. (Right) My grandparents on my mother’s side.
I often think of my ikigai, a Japanese concept which refers to one’s reason for being — what gives your life value, meaning, or purpose. It is made up of four primary elements: what you love (your passion), what the world needs (your mission), what you are good at (your vocation), and what you can get paid for (your profession). My ikigai is my connection to the land, the environment, and the people.
When my nephew was in preschool, he learned to be a “listening friend”. The role of a listening friend seems to be missing from American social norms, yet a simple way to nurture relationships and avoid loneliness. Creating a support system has encouraged me to venture out of my comfort zone and not just aspire to spend alone time amongst trees, but to consider the people who are connected to the trees. I want to find a better way to practice leading with the heart and mind. To honor the relationships between people in communities, sharing resources, fostering diverse cultures, and advocating to care for nature. As a continual learner, I may never be an expert in anything I’ve studied, but I can always count on my drive to the process, reflective practice, and my endless curiosity. I think back to my openness in giving, contributing, listening, trusting, and receiving — and being guided by advice shared from former Openlands President & CEO, Jerry Adelmann: “we must raise the threshold of hope”. I am excited to bring this openness to my GCLI experience this year, and look forward to sharing reflections from the experience here.
Invitation to Openness, a jazz fusion LP recorded in 1971 by Les McCann. This 51 minute music composition inspired my blog post because it is calm, rhythmic, warm, mysterious, and instrumental. Inspired by Miles Davis, this is a nice album to just play over and over. It flows and changes itself up quite well, similar to alpine skiing, river rafting, or surfing. It ebbs and flows in the environment it occupies, without a distinct beginning or end, the only requirement is openness, and the invited audience is intergenerational. I love listening to records in my spare time, and this has been one of many ways for me to learn about American culture. I hope you enjoy this icebreaker and I’d love to hear what everyone else is listening to from where you are.
