Honour Rolls

Honour rolls are a funny thing. Historical records of success, service or dedication. The change has past. The moment gone. But names are left etched in wooden boards hanging on walls to tell of impact once felt. 

I used to covet being on the honour board in my Primary School. I had to ask once what "Dux" of the school meant. The best of the best. The top graded student of that graduating year. Wow.

Is a golden pursuit in life to get on the honour roll? Is the ambition the name etched on wood to hang on a wall or the messiness of change we could co-create? The badge of honour to say I was once successful or the position of being a success?

Is it the reward or the messy process of learning and change we should be seeking out?

It's hard to feel rewarded by seeking out complex, vulnerable and boundaryless change.

It hasn't got the satisfying snap of a pat on the back.

It is this type of change that asks you to be ok not being ok. It asks you to be reassured by a sense of mystery. It asks you to commit to change when you have no idea of the final impact.