About circ.al

The Circle

I can remember sitting around camp fires as a kid—whether it was in Boy Scouts, on a camping trip with good family friends, or on the very small number of times I can remember doing so with my family. I always loved this part of the camping trip. It felt real. It felt like a place that we were supposed to be.

Little did I know at the time that sitting in circles in this way was a part of human culture going all the way back to the beginning. Indeed, since humans have gathered together, we’ve sat in circles. Regardless of where we were in the world.

A group of people gathered around a campfire outdoors at dusk, sitting on logs and rocks, with trees and a body of water in the background.

Around fires at night to stay warm and safe. Around one another when strife, conflict, and sorrow, had descended on our community. Around the problems we were trying to solve. Around the things we wanted to celebrate.

Later in life, I began to experience the healing properties of being in a circle. My first glimpse was in group therapy. Then in spiritual community. Then in men’s circles. In personal development work.

I started noticing that we sat in circles a lot more than I realized. The dinner table. The conference table. Sure, there’s an obstacle (the table!), but still, we are able to see each other.

Sitting in a circle is one of the most profoundly human things.

Honestly, the places I felt (and feel) the most out of place are where we’re asked to sit in rows, facing a stage of some sort. A seat of power. Synagogue always felt off to me in this way. As did school (my goodness did school feel all kinds of wrong for me!). As I entered my career, I felt this at conferences, department meetings, pretty much most things “professional.”

Over the years, as I’ve worked with leaders & organizations, facilitated men’s circles, workshops, and retreats, I’ve found that the circle was maybe the most powerful tool in my toolbox. It has become the place I return to again and again.

But there’s more. Because circles aren’t enough.

The Spiral

A close-up view of a spiral seashell viewed from the top, showcasing its intricate, repetitive pattern.

The thing about circles is: they can be circular.

Hear me out.

What I mean here is that I’ve witnessed time and time again how it’s possible to get stuck in the work we are bringing into our cirlces. We can go round-and-round. It can become a collective version of navel-gazing. This does us little good.

But, when held right, a circle can facilitate a different process: that of the spiral.

A spiral takes us somewhere new. Indeed, it may take us somewhere we can’t anticipate.

And when we end up (inevitably) revisiting the same material, we are always doing it from a different place. Meaning we get something new from it.

It doesn’t rehash.

It integrates. It’s heals. It’s transforms.

circ.al

So, all of this is to say:

A circle is a technology—one that has been with us humans since we gathered in groups (which is a very, very long time), and one that helps us connect with community.

and

A spiral is a process—one that unfolds when we break free of what keeps us going in circles.

When held together, we have the circ.al.

This is the philosophy—and the technology and process—that underlies all of my work. Whether it’s one-on-one (or pod) coaching, working with a small group as we navigate uncertainty together, in an ongoing men’s circle exploring masculiniity and what it means to be vulnerable, or any other situation, it’s all circ.al.