Charles had dissected those Ubuntu motivations –
What indigenous boys can teach about making money –
How we’re hard-wired for hugs, with a longing to belong,
And he had applied it to hierarchy systems, by asking
“How can we best construct a bridge to being … with each
other?”
What the Dalai Lama told him about teams, er, being, er,
beings:
It is passion that moves us from fear into wisdom,
Enables us to obliterate the village for science.
"Your competitors report,” he suavely said, "It's the softer side
Eats strategy for lunch,” for there are always prisoners to take
But no such thing as culture,
Only strains of sub-culture, which is only the bacterial
individual
In a shadow, of the values, thus we must bring the voices
In from the periphery to the middle, so that they can be …
Co-opted? Defanged? Otherwise managed?
No. We must learn how to value with a no,
Without that irritable leap into judgment.
Then, by way of a rare note of culture in
Battle formations, and with a way-too-guilt-stricken look,
He quoted the poets, on the magic of words
And the genius of boldness, and humbly concluded
That the kingdom must extract its idle dreamers,
For they give visionaries a bad name.
