Constellating Change: How the stars gathered around our systems change learning and practice series

Just over a year ago, the School of System Change hosted the first session of Constellating Change, a learning and practice series that allowed us to explore the dynamic and interconnected nature of organising for systems change through the lens of constellations. This imagery gave us many rich and evocative parallels to see and grapple with the complexities of our work.

When we look up at the night sky, stars can appear static, yet really their positions and levels of visibility change based on where we stand, the time of year, and what the weather’s doing. This shifting perspective is akin to how we perceive and interact with elements of systems change.

Just as stars come into and fade out of view, so does the importance and influence of the different forces acting on our work.

Over six sessions, our Constellating Change series invited contributors from the field to explore some of the dominant patterns and structures that inform how we organise for change. Our sessions looked at: learning in relationship; structures and rhythms; power and decision making; transforming conflict; resources and money; roles and contributions.

Like that image of the stars seen from a single viewpoint, these ways of organising can at first appear fixed and stuck.

Take power dynamics, for example. Power is relational and situational — it emerges from interactions and relationships. However unhealthy, hierarchical power dynamics often feel baked in, destined to perpetuate a plethora of extractive models that generate harmful outcomes, oppression and exploitation.

In change work, unhealthy power can show up when it comes to distributing money and resources. We see it when our working rhythms are forced to dance to the beat of a mechanical metronome that only allows for linear, predictable workflows. And it’s found again and again in the reproduction of binary, fixed, uninspiring roles that try to draw boundaries around our contribution to the work. With conflict harbouring such a bad reputation, it can be hard to disrupt these dynamics and create something new and just as we work, learn and make decisions together.

Through yarning* with contributors and participants, we found a shared desire for different ways to adapt and respond in our ever-changing context. How might we dismantle these unhelpful stories? How might we reconnect to the mystery and deeper knowing out there — to rekindle different ways of organising and constellating, inherent to us as living beings?

*Yarning: we’re inspired by Tyson Yunkaporta’s use of the term — a sharing of anecdotes, stories and experiences from our lived reality — in a meandering and weaving way. In Aboriginal communities it is a way to connect, learn and make decisions together. According to Tyson, ‘yarning’ is collective governance and a structure of sharing and respecting stories and viewpoints.

Through our six sessions, we reached towards a different paradigm — a paradigm where we do not take these patterns for granted, but instead see them as malleable and regenerative. Where we value learning in relationship, where learning in context gives us space to bring our whole emotional, psychological selves, and where relational learning is mutually reinforcing. Where diverse experiences can be woven to start to change the current hierarchy and form a new tapestry of knowing and doing. Where we connect to the aliveness inherent in us all, and are inspired and nourished by the cycles of the seasons and vitality of nature. A paradigm where we can be the living organisms that we are, breathing and relating together and through how we cultivate change. Changing the story we live by and change by.

Once we start to see a new story (or constellation), it’s hard to go back to the old story.

No single star makes a constellation. Similarly, systems change relies on the interconnected efforts of many individuals, organisations and the myriad of other forms. By consciously choosing and sometimes re-drawing the lines of connection, we can create new patterns that reflect our current needs and contexts.

Over time, the constellations we recognise have evolved, influenced by discoveries, exploration and changing cultural narratives.

In our series, each topic we explored was like a star, and the series became an exercise in drawing new lines between these topics to delineate new constellations. The contributors to the series, much like individual stars, each brought their unique light and perspective, contributing to a larger, interconnected picture. Their unique backgrounds and experiences illuminated different aspects of systems change practice. They shared some beautiful examples, frameworks and approaches, each alive with possibility. For instance, the Happy Money Story, the Social Change Ecosystem Map, sitting in circle, non-violent communication, lessons from living with chronic illness, rhythm maps, ways to mark endings, questions and learning and practice invitations to help us shift how we learn, relate in our experiences and perspectives.

Some contributors already knew each other and were part of bright, well-defined constellations. Others, coming from diverse geographies and disciplines, represented new stars that required us to draw fresh lines and form new patterns. This diversity underscores the importance of context and perspective in our work, and where we stand, both literally and metaphorically. Adaptability is crucial for addressing the complex and multifaceted challenges of systems change.

We had some really fresh, juicy conversations with surprising depth with the ~50 people who attended in their own constellations to different sessions — including our final weaving and sense-making session.

Constellating helps to draw out the complexity of the what and the how of our work, rather than reducing it to spreadsheets or hierarchies that no longer serve us. We need to listen to what people and their relationships need and want, and where the energy is — so that we can flow more like water, so that we can invite and embrace plurality and fluidity, and be in the trouble or the tensions that emerge between false dichotomies like learning and doing.

Words really matter. The language we use is deeply entwined with our thought patterns. Job titles can trap us. Our opinions and the opinions of others can become self-fulfilling. This can be seen in learning too, where the artefact becomes more important than the embodied, enacted experience, the dynamic flow between people.

This requires us to bring our attention to forces like power, money, conflict, to make their dynamics visible and transparent to ourselves and others. Shining a light on them enables us to work with them better. In this honest and open approach, trust can build in the work of constellating for change. This also encourages us to embrace the ‘No’, to welcome dissent, and let go when things don’t serve us or when things need to end.

We see fractals of the world’s systems within us and in our relationships. We need to find ways to build the capacity to have these different conversations and interactions, while being aware that — even though so much of this is inherent in us — different people will be ready for different depths of relating. As contributor Kazu Haga shared: “we don’t rise to the level of expectation but fall to the level of our training.” We must prepare ourselves to work differently so that we can rise together.

Constellations, seen in the themes of these sessions and reflected in our connected blog series, embody a duality of the unchangeable and the changeable.

Although it might feel overwhelming to get started, all change starts with a tiny action or experiment, as one participant said in our weaving session — “one stitch at a time” — repeated over time until it starts to infuse our practice, and create a new story of how we act, decide and come together, even if we don’t quite know what to do.

What we noticed emerging out of all of these sessions was a desire for permission to reframe and explore these ways of organising. This comes from pausing, rest, space, letting things percolate, seeking the people we can reconstellate with. This reorientation needs breath, needs us to be in a position to give life to it and all the creativity that demands.

When you look at the night sky, it takes a moment to let go of the stars you can see in order to tune in to the vastness of what’s not yet visible. This act of taking permission and shifting perspective is as much an inner process as it is relational. Through these sessions, I felt I was lying on the grass, looking at the sky with friends and pointing out what we see differently. Astronomers, stargazers, fellow travellers on the journey, gesturing towards not fully discovered galaxies, exploring together.

This Constellating Change series reminds us of the importance of perspective, the value of drawing connections, and the potential for transformation as we navigate the complexities of our work. The metaphor of constellations helps us to appreciate the beauty and intricacy of our collective efforts and continue to innovate and adapt in our journey towards meaningful change.

Thank you to our twelve contributors: John and Jen, Natalia and Emily, Sarah and Yves, Kazu and Leonie, Francesca and Zahra, Samantha and Siana; our brilliant production and communications team (stars in themselves!); and the 50+ participants and fellow inquirers on this journey, trying to navigate the stars towards ways of organising that feel alive and aligned to our ways of being and relating.

Yarning underpinned the exchanges we shared with our contributors from the beginning through to the public conversations we hosted online. Thank you reader for becoming part of our yarning by picking up the thread.

If you're interested in bringing this learning into your organisation or network, get in touch with Sean, our Learning and Practice Partner Lead. To keep inquiring with us as we explore our themes for 2025, subscribe to the School newsletter for reflections, articles and resources.