After staffing more than 30 System Work classes and listening to the insights shared by other participants, I’ve been reflecting on how my life has changed through this work.
System Work helps us see, but at the same time, it’s not just about seeing; it’s about how we hold what we see—holding everything our senses can pick up. I liken this to standing with our hands stretched out as we let things fall into our palms: everything from the weight of silence to the emotions that color every word; from the sharp twist in the chest after hearing something unpleasant to the way one’s face can open and close like a fan, revealing the sheer excitement and longing of hope. The work is to hold them and let them be as they are, without rushing to fix or find solutions. This might not be the most popular course of action, given that we live in a culture of quick-fixes and “how-tos.”
To hold everything within oneself—I see this as the work of building internal capacity. And after more than seven years, I am increasingly realizing the importance of having the capacity to hold the following:
1. Loneliness
Loneliness comes in waves and layers.
And, to clarify, I don’t mean loneliness that is a result from lacking in friends or people who care. No. But rather, a loneliness that comes from not having a space or container to share what you see with others. This work allows you to see—and I don’t mean it in a supernatural way, like having a "sixth sense"—but rather, the ability to see the intricacies, subtleties, and nuances of human dynamics and relationships.
This might come as a surprise, but I’ve found that most people are more willing to create a space to give labels (“good/bad”), to allow prejudice to seep into half-baked assumptions, or worse, to pass judgment without the benefit of the doubt. Very rarely are people willing to create a space simply just to see.
Perhaps the rarity can be attributed to the fact that not many of my friends or acquaintances truly understand the work I’m doing. I don’t blame them, after all, on some days, I also find myself trying to explain what I do to myself (as a practice so that I’m prepared when meeting clients and/or friends) to no avail. Put simply, I don’t know what box to put myself in, unlike my friends, who are either a salesperson, a consultant, a teacher, a nonprofit volunteer, an entrepreneur, or even a content creator.
For them, there are clear boxes. Clear categories. Clear lines. And, coloring inside the lines has always been the norm, not the exception. And, I found that not many people are willing to hold a space for those who color outside the lines. Not because they mean harm, but simply because they don’t know how to.
Which brings me to the last layer of loneliness: sometimes I simply long for a space to just be. Not to do anything—not to perform, not to explain myself—but simply just to be. To be a human being who gets tired, irritated, and frustrated, sometimes more often than I’d like to admit.
2. Discomfort
Before System Work, my life was easier because I rarely stopped to pause. Everything was quick and easy—as easy as judging other people. I must admit, judgment was one of the things that made life feel simpler.
If people disagreed with me, I’d judge. If they didn’t see things my way, I’d judge. If clients were insufferable, ghosted me, or only replied when they needed something, I’d judge.
But System Work taught me that when it comes to human dynamics, most things are not black and white. Oftentimes, there are other shades—a spectrum of colors resulting from the many facets and layers of being human. Judging is easier, or I should say simpler, because it reduces the nuances of a person into a single value judgment. You can rely on judgment if you only care about the surface level and do not want to tend to your relationships with others.
I learned the hard way that if you want to care for others, it’s important to dig deep; to look beyond the surface. To not reduce the complexity of a human being to a label, but to embrace their complexities, messiness, and diversity instead.
For example, one of my clients is notorious for ghosting people. If I choose to judge, I can just chalk it up to office politics or a power move without ever looking deeper. But System Work teaches me to see the human behind the actions; to see things from their perspective and understand the complexities of their role and position that might influence their behavior.
That is the source of my discomfort. I know the "right" thing to do, but knowing and doing are two different things. The old, familiar way of judging often tempts me—the pull of old habits is hard to shake off, even now as I’m writing this. I realize it requires a constant and conscious effort to maintain the awareness to pause before moving forward, before I revert back to my default mode of being.
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3. Disappointment
System Work helps me realize there’s an alternative for every human system—be it an organization, a family, or a community. Personally, I’d say it’s a better alternative to how things are; a healthier way to maintain the system and the well-being of its members.
With that realization comes hope: the hope that perhaps my own systems can also be better. If you have ever been in a system that is unhealthy, realizing there is an alternative is akin to seeing a flicker of light when everything is bleak; like tender sunlight seeping into your room, greeting you like an old friend.
But hope is a fragile thing. I have come to realize that some systems simply choose to stay where they are, even when presented with an alternative. They do not budge; they do not want to move an inch, even toward something better.
This is where hope turns into disappointment. The flicker of light vanishes without a trace. Deep, muted shades of grey loom over you, casting shadows over your present and, quite probably, your future. This is the moment I truly understand what people mean when they say "ignorance is bliss."
If I didn’t know a better alternative existed, I would have been content with the way things are, even if they were far from perfect, simply because I wouldn't know any other way. I would have been able to reach a place of acceptance. But, unfortunately, I do know. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t "un-see" it.
With that, I have to grapple with a hope that is simply no longer there. This may sound discouraging, but for me, it isn’t, for two reasons. First, it teaches me to work with reality as it is, not as I want it to be. Second, this affords me the chance to sit with disappointment—and that is valuable work in itself. Because while the system may choose to stand still in its current state, by allowing myself to befriend disappointment, I have an opportunity, or I should say a privilege, to expand my capacity to embrace disappointment; to learn from it and make room for my personal growth; learnings that I can eventually bring to benefit a different system.
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To hold all of these, and other things I haven’t yet had the courage to write, is not easy. That reflects the state of my life after learning System Work. No, System Work does not make my life easier.
But seeing, knowing, and understanding these things matter. They give me options. Choices. They remind me that I can do something—that I have the agency to do so, if and when I choose to take action.
So no, System Work does not make my life easier. But the options and agency that come with it offer possibilities. While the results are never guaranteed, there is a clear path forward. There is a chance that, if anything, it’s possible for my life to be better.
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I wrote this reflection as a way to pay it forward, because I first stumbled upon System Work when my manager kindly shared it with me. So, against my better judgment and my instinct for self-preservation against ridicule, I chose to share this with all of you. If, like me, you are curious about an alternative to how things are in any system you’re in right now, then you’re not alone. There’s another way—one that’s hard-earned, not given.
And if you’re curious, I’m willing to have a conversation with you. You can join our free Info Session or Community Session, where you'll find others who are curious, as well as those who have been practicing this work for years. (You can see a glimpse of it here and here).
Sometimes, it takes a leap of faith to bring change about. Sometimes, it is as simple as saying "yes" to an invitation.
The choice is yours.
