The zócalo pulses in Havana.

It’s dusk and a circle begins to form, gravity bringing people together. Pairs emerge, shoes slap the stone, laughter ricochets through the palms. This is Rueda de Casino, where free bodies meet choreography, some lead and some follow. Calls are made, and bodies move in time, and joy is unleashed.

One dancer steps in. He’s new, he knows the rhythm, but he is new to the trust it takes to yield and hold. He fumbles. A hand reaches out. A smile cues him in. He’s in now. He feels it.

The rules are there, yes — but they’re breathable.

Annette, somewhere far from the zócalo, an inspired soul, speaks softly. Her words hang like prayer flags between Cornwall beaches and Brazilian street corners. “I couldn’t unsee it,” she said, referring to a key moment in her teens when she’d learned that the top 5% wealthiest people in the world were described as having everything that she had: a fridge, a washing machine, television, a home; whilst 30% of the world lived in absolute poverty. “We had everything they described, and yet… I was told by grown ups that this was the world’s way of working?”

That dissonance cracked open a life. There are moments when the world stops pretending it makes sense. For Annette, that moment came in a chalk-dusted classroom. For others, it arrives in grief, or love, or later in life.

In each, the same hope: Something else is possible.

Nathalia:  “When did you first feel like you had to write your own rules?”

Annette: “I don’t know. I know I couldn’t follow the paths that were being laid out in front of me, of a comfortable life of accumulation and separation from wider reality. I felt the duties that came with having grown up in comfort that was built on the pain of others.”

In another room or perhaps a field, or a Zoom box suspended in digital ether, a circle forms again. Not of dancers, but stewards. They’re not certain on how to begin. There are partnerships, values, priorities, outcomes. And then there’s the humming under it all: the mission, like a frequency only attuned hearts can hear: Annette calls it Beyond the Rules.

“I am not your rule,” the system says. He enters, deciding not to be surveillance, nor bureaucracy, but soil, nutrients, and pulse. “I am the mycelium under your structures. I am your rain-soaked contradictions. I am the space where grief and birth meet.” Will you respect me? Will you nurture me? Will you find balance to be with, and honor both who you are and what we become?

Dancer numero uno:  “I used to just follow what was asked of me. Agreement was safer than rupture. But the music… it didn’t land in my chest that way. It was choreography without communion.”

Dancer numero dos:  “I cannot say what I want, I don’t feel heard. Agreement feels like betrayal, where do I go from there?”

Annette: “I have been very lucky to live in and learn from different cultures. I find how grief is held in Punjab to be an inspiring example of confronting pain collectively and openly.”

The body, laid bare in the home she recalls, the visitors coming in and coming out, the weeping, the healing and witnessing. “I noticed how we often rush past pain in the UK”, she said. “We withstand death with a stiff upper lip and lose the moments to connect, learn and love in it” “But in governance (and in life), if we can’t sit with grief, how can we repair?”

Nathalia: “You’re speaking of body-level wisdom. This work doesn’t live in spreadsheets alone.”

Annette: “Yes. It’s somatic. It’s slow. And it’s rarely funded. But it’s where the real work happens.” 

We are standing in the in-between, and this work asks for a lot from each of us.

When looking for inspiration and other practice in this area Annette found a rich ecosystem of people and groups working on the more-than-human side, on the somatics, on ecological metaphors, on the interpersonal, and on the personal work. Yet, she struggled to find aligned structural work, for example the legal toolkits, the employment Contracts, the collaboration agreements…  What they found felt built for another way of being.

So they began creating from the ground up the infrastructures where joy is reached in discipline, song and practice together.  Like Rueda, again. A “non-entity” entity, an employment contract that cares, relational value that is as visible as financial value… Roles held like cards in your hand. Custodians of data, or of more-than-human perspectives. A system of many nodes, perspectives and forms of value. 

What is Emerging as Core Elements of how you are thinking about Governance in your work?

Annette and the team at Beyond the Rules describe some key elements for how they are thinking about governance in complex collaborations:

• Mission hierarchy How are we understanding the world that we are seeking to bring into being? And what is this work contributing to as part of that? These are the mission(s) of the work and, when in conflict, the bigger picture takes precedent. This is the anchor. These are not just the tasks or the projects, they are the deeper purpose that brings people together. Without clarity at this level, everything downstream gets distorted.
  
• Deep Codes: what are our fundamental understandings and philosophies of what value this work will need; what risks are critical to mitigate; how power is understood and wants to manifest; where critical accountabilities lie and how we anticipate change will happen? These foundational understandings code the systems that we design, which in turn shape how and what we create.
  
• Infrastructures: These are the strategic, governing, organising, learning, legal systems that we design and execute in order to hold the collaboration and the work. They include the  policies, agreements, legal forms, processes and learning frameworks, all coded to the mission(s) and deep codes. In Beyond the Rules, they’re designed to be adaptive and mutually reinforcing: structured enough to coordinate, flexible enough to evolve.
  
• Relational orchestration: Who is brought to the table when; with what framing; with what posture and tone? How do we build the rhythms and cadence to weave relationally and learn together? This is the soft relational orchestration that turns disparate actors into a collaborative organism.
  
• Everyday Behaviors: How do we show up for each other; how do we live into the design of how we want to be; how do we navigate tensions in the moment? This includes the habits, the meeting norms, the ways we give feedback or make space. Governance is not abstract, it lives in how people behave, especially in moments of stress or misalignment.

When elements like these are in stronger alignment, clear mission(s) and deep codes, supportive infrastructures, healthy behaviors, collaboration can become expansive, joyful, and generative.

One collaboration she remembers, failed. Despite passion and good intentions, when it started to have problems people reverted back to self-protection. Rather than lean in, people became defensive and separate. They realized the contract they used, that was inherited, reinforced this built to protect the liability of particular actors over others, not to nourish and support the relational trust that made the collaboration possible.

When this misalignment surfaced (as it always does in complex work), not having designed for any other option, they had to look at the contract to decide where to go next. The legal clauses kicked in like reflexes, prioritizing risk management over repair. Neither the structure nor the relational bonds could hold the tension. People retreated. The mission dissolved into formalities.

In contrast, another project flourished. The collaborators were relative strangers at first, from different organisations, and ways of working. But they designed a governance container that made space for emergence: a focus on relationships, a shared mission charter, open cycles of consent-based decision making, and lightweight agreements that could evolve over time.

When disagreements came, they stepped in to navigate them. Accountability didn’t mean punishment; it meant returning to shared purpose. That project didn’t just deliver outcomes. It deepened relationships. It left behind a trail of new capacities, and the quiet confidence that something truly collective had taken root.

The System:  “Most of you only notice me when I break. But I’m here always, under the footfall of your best intentions. I am what lets joy be shared, not hoarded. I am the breath between your words, the pause before consent.”

This is governance as a grief ritual, as improvisation, as rewilding of logic, not as a board room. This is post-contract, post-property, post-punishment.

Dancer: “Now, when I dance, I don’t fear the next step. I know someone will call it. I know we’ll shift together.”

What’s Next for Beyond the Rules?

Beyond the Rules has an open portal with resources from the last few years – an employment contract example and portal; a Partnership Agreement playbook; a portal for Reimagining Pay.

As I write this article, the Beyond the Rules team is building a public digital infrastructure to support complex collaborations for public good in this way of governing and organising. It will include:

• A Field Guide: distilling key principles and learnings
• Instruments: with legal logs, a contract example, role card examples, and governance design materials
• A Database of System Blockers: mapping out cultural, legal, and regulatory frictions that prevent life-centered governance from thriving

This will be an open invitation to others who are trying to do similar work, in systems change collaborations. Whether you’re looking to organise in place or across fields , this space will help you find better ways to hold complexity, make agreements, and stay aligned.

Nathalia: “What’s the dream, then?”

Annette: “That governance could feel like Rueda. That through our collective intent, practice and discipline, we access more of what makes us deeply human. It’s not about being efficient. It’s about being creative and alive. Together.”

And you — reader, steward, dancer — where do you step in?
Are you ready for a different rhythm?
Because the circle is already forming.
And someone’s just called, date la vuelta.
Will you turn?