Try something different - three things to get you out of a rut

Like millions of people, I watched Glastonbury on the telly, safe on my sofa, with a great view of the Rolling Stones and a cup of tea in my hand.  To many, this sounds terribly dull.  I have attended loads of festivals in my time - the last one was V at Chelmsford and returning to my hotel room after watching the Manic Street Preachers, the bliss of being able to get the dirt out of my hair in the shower was indescribable.

But I digress.

While watching the wall to wall BBC coverage, I came across a young girl band I'd never heard of called Haim.  Their set (on TV at least) was short, but electrifying.  Their sound was different - a cross between Siouxsie Sioux and early Police, and the lead singer, bassist and keyboard players were intense and very, very focused.  It's been a long time since I was really interested in something new in music, but I've just downloaded some of their songs.

Which got me wondering - what prompts you to try something new?

The first thing of course is exposure.  It’s difficult to try something new if you always see the same people, go the same places, read the same stuff.  Recently, I went back to Birkbeck for their annual Business Week (http://www.bbk.ac.uk/business/about-us/events/business-week) but instead of visiting the events for the school of Organisational Psychology, which I normally do, I went instead to a couple of events on happiness and well-being, hosted by the School of Business, Economics and Infomatics. 

It was fascinating, taking me into a discipline I didn’t know with authors I hadn’t read – but now want to.  It gave me a different perspective which has enriched my experience and my knowledge. So – tip number one:

1.       Go somewhere you’ve never been before, with people you don’t know.

Research indicates that what holds most people back from new experiences is fear – of being uncomfortable, of not enjoying things, or making their “stuck” situation worse. 

However, if your “new” experience is well crafted, it need not commit you to years of misery if you don’t like it – my foray into the world of economics lasted four hours. So – tip number two:

2.       Keep it short!

The physical environment is a key determinant of our mood.  A serene vista of water and fading light may make us gentle and reflective.  It’s the same in the office.  Some people feel much more capable when they clear up papers, and have a sense of starting anew with a clear desk.  But for me, one way of certainly changing your perspective is to physically move. So tip number three is:

3.       Move where you sit and work.

Moving where you sit and work enables you to see different things, feel different light and heat, and maybe even sit next to someone you don’t know.  When I’ve worked in culture change programmes, changing where people are located may sometimes be painful, but it signals very clearly that something different is happening. New conversations are had, new relationships are formed – even around the kettle in the kitchen.

So try something a little different. Small and contained at first, which will give you confidence, and be low-risk. Pretty soon, you’ll be climbing mountains, studying for that degree you always wanted, writing the novel or changing careers.

After all – as the NLP practitioners say – “If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always got.”

Postscript:

I saw this article a day after I'd posted this.  Interesting additional reading!

http://blog.bufferapp.com/the-science-of-time-perception-how-to-make-your-days-longer?utm_source=feedburner

Being human? - social media and personal reputation

I'm only dimly aware of Big Data as yet.  Like the cloud, to many people it's a vague concept. Yet last week I talked with someone who told me that companies are trawling the bits of data that you leave behind - your credit card purchases, your online comments, your "likes" on Facebook and YouTube, routes through online content - and making patterns and pictures about your life, your thoughts. A silver snail trail of data, left indelibly, enabling the curious to see your preferences, your good days of triumph, bad days of whining.

I have to say, this brought me up short.  All my humanity - my generosity, my meanness, my sarcasm and cynicism, my joyous delight, my occasional unkindness, laid out for some unknown person (or machine) to peruse at leisure?  Waiting to catch you unawares, like a sly affair come back to haunt hubristic politicians.

I've had a conversation also with some who say that CVs may soon be obsolete.  Instead, recruiters will view posts, online articles and Twitter feeds as proof of your professionalism and proficiency. Nervously glancing back at previous Twitter feeds, I may be already doomed.

But also, think of the stress of being always reasonable and measured, always on message, bright and insightful every time you make a comment - never relaxing, always on show.

A few years ago, there was a lot of comment about "your personal brand".  I particularly loathed this idea, primarily because it treated real living people like commodities - soap powder or a bar of chocolate.  But as David Ogilvy once said, people aren't inanimate and as such can be unpredictable.  A Snickers bar, for example, can't have a bad day.

We are in short, human, and we have completely human feelings. So consistency of brand experience can get a bit more complex if you're talking about real people delivering it.  And indeed, this is what you see if you look at my timeline.  Someone who's been cross, elated, tired, defensive, supportive, joyful - prone to "the heart ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to".

Perhaps it is alarming.  Then again, perhaps it's an illustration of what working with me would really be like, and if it's basing the recruitment process on more realistic data, maybe that's the real benefit.  This only stands of course if my online persona is honest, rather than carefully crafted.  Anyone looking at it, can probably tell that it is!

But there are some interesting questions about privacy, the right to a personal (rather than JUST a work) life.  Whether you might ask for an amnesty for your Tweets, or whether you need to explain and chart your change of views within your online presence. 

What's your online persona like? Is it truly you or a PR-ed version?  Do you stand up to the scrutiny of social media watchers? Have you occasionally been human - and come to regret it?

Engaged - or just living together?

I see that the legislation enabling the employee/shareholder contract has been defeated in the House of Lords.  The proposal involved employees waiving some employment rights in return for shares in the business they work for.

As these rights included unfair dismissal rights, statutory redundancy pay, the right to request flexible working and training, and the time limit for giving notice of a firm date of return from maternity or adoption leave, I can’t help but be pleased that it has been defeated.  It will go back to the House of Commons, where I hope it will be quickly forgotten because the Government has bigger fish to fry.

Workers might well be confused.  While one part of the Government is reducing the period of collective consultation by half, asking employees to sell their right to redundancy pay, and increasing the fee for bringing employment tribunals, the other is banging on about engagement, and the vital need for employees to bring enthusiasm to do more than is in the job description. 

Despite it all, I am a supporter of engagement – indeed, much of it is such common sense it would be hard not to be.  Who wouldn’t want a workplace where people were challenged, supported, respected and developed.   Although the right to ask for training would have been one of things given up, had the employee/shareholder contract become law….

No, what I’m suspicious of is the motive.  Engagement emerged out of the depths of recession, suggesting that employers could and should arrange the working relationship so that more was done for and with less.  Unions at the time of the first Engagement report, notwithstanding the potential well-being benefits for employees, were wary.

And the other thing I’m suspicious of is the almost Nazi-like commitment to engagement as a concept.   This blog doesn’t have masses of followers, but I’m prepared to be screamed down by enthusiasts waving “evidence” at me and asking how very dare I.  The quality of the evidence is really not very good (and believe me, I have looked HARD at it) but is being touted like the answer to all organisational prayers. 

And indeed, engagement MIGHT just be that.

But not if the motive is wrong.  Employees aren’t daft.  They can work out soon enough if the benefits of engagement are shared , or why engagement programmes are being implemented.  Employee well-being used to be the raison d’etre of engagement.  Now it’s profit, productivity.

And, given the workplace environment at the moment – weak and divided unions who CAN’T call management to account in the way they ought to be able to; the weakest employee legislation in Europe; and employees being offered bright new shiny contracts for 30 pieces of silver and important employment rights – I’m not convinced of the current mode of “engagement” being a good thing for employees. 

I think the motive is suspect. And should - at least for now - be questioned.

http://kcdcoaching.moonfruit.com/#/momentum-blog/4573395166

Before Christmas, I went with my partner to her "works do".  I was invited last year, and went, feeling a bit out of place and awkward, not really knowing anyone and having to exchange chit-chat, which generally I loathe.

This year's entertainment - also as last year - was an employee talent show.

The organisers staged a whole array of talent, from a very brave (and young) man doing stand up, to three rather stately ladies from housekeeping performing line dancing, to some wicked satirical songs.  All were cheered, clapped and wolf-whistled, in particular the final act, which was a striptease by the organisers to Tom Jones' You can leave your hat on. 

And as the evening drifted ever more drunkenly on, I felt rather envious. 

As a freelance for the last 14 years, I don't often get to work with a team of people.  While this suits me a lot of the time, being on your own can get a little lonely.  Working with other people - notwithstanding the arguments about whose turn it is to make the tea - gives comradeship, the opportunity to brainstorm with others to create better ideas, and frankly, a laugh when it's raining on a dark Tuesday afternoon in February.

The also gives you, I realised watching people roll around laughing at the in-jokes - is shared meaning.  Jargon may have a dark side, obfuscating definitions and being unfriendly to newcomers, but it also creates belonging, illustrates shared history and experience.

And it's this sharing which made me slightly jealous.  Performers on stage were supported, regardless of how bad they were, and probably, regardless of how well people knew them.  They knew of them, they were 'one of us' and as a result were wildly cheered on.   It was a generous atmosphere, with all critical faculties suspended for the evening. 

As a result of this sense of loss, I'm slowly gathering around me a group of people in the same boat as I am.  People I can talk to, whose opinion I trust and who can spare time to work with me on new ideas and approaches to the work I do.   It's reciprocal - I can offer my thoughts on their work, and to date I have helped with editing, offered additional information, and done some much needed proof-reading.  On the other side of a cup of coffee, I can share gossip, a laugh and give enthusiastic support.

Who knows - we might end up working together, bringing me full circle!

Not Panto? Oh yes it is!

As part of the Christmas festivities, my family and I went to the Hackney Empire to see the panto, which this year was Dick Whittington.

Now as part of my mongrel career, I have worked backstage at my local theatre, and one of the best shows to work on was panto.  The children in the audience, and their reactions to the actors gave each performance unpredictability and even a sense of danger.  I've seen kids protect the heroine by kicking the baddie in the balls (in this case, the wolf in Red Riding Hood), cry uncontrollably when told a joke by the hero, and watch their pee trickle down the raked stage into the orchestra pit. Not to mention some astonishingly blue jokes from eight-year olds.

I was mostly on follow-spot (or limelight) juggling with pink, straw and green gels for picking up the heroine, principal boy and the villain, wearing headphones and getting the cues from the stage manager. Although I left the theatre many years ago, I have very happy memories of working backstage and was therefore really looking forward to the panto at Hackney Empire. And although I'm a regular visitor at the theatre, it must be twenty years since I last saw a panto.

So while some things were the same - kids almost sick with excitement, grandparents struggling to keep control, bored-looking older siblings - there were some changes.

A preponderance of bustiers was the first thing I noticed - on all the dancers, all the actors.  Had I looked, I felt sure the band would also be wearing them.

Also, we had an Asian fairy godmother, who cracked jokes in Hindi with some sections of the audience (an interesting position to be in as a white audience member) and a West Indian King Rat.  The comedy was more political (well, Boris Johnson IS a godsend) and the songs a bit more hip hop than I remembered.

And none of these changes made me enjoy it any less.  It was great to see panto shifting with the times, reflecting the audiences who would see it, and still eliciting the same kind of response - Oh yes, it does!

Which made me think that essentially, kids don't change all that much.  They want a goodie, a baddie and some certainty about the story.  And although adults can't always provide this, I did find myself wondering if we provide children with too much realism, too much subtlety, too many choices, when what makes them happy is simplicity.

About time - paying attention to a precious resource

Today, I deleted someone from my phone book and erased their address from my contact book. 

I sent her a text wishing her well, and telling her that this was the last time I would contact her. The person who's no longer on my list of Christmas and birthday cards and has been taken out of my iPhone hasn't been in touch for a couple of years now.  I've tried numerous times to raise her, not just at Christmas when most people guiltily realise that we've not been in touch since last Christmas. I've texted, emailed, phoned and written, with no response.  And so now, sad but resigned, I've decided to make the effort no longer.

I don't do this often.  I'm generally of the view that there's some resolution for arguments, some method of fixing a broken relationship, and so it's very rare indeed that I give up, and stop the communication.

While this is undoubtedly a failure on my part to patch things up, it has also felt oddly liberating. In fact, I'm going to be looking through my ancient address book and making further decisions like this.  This will give me more time to spend time with people I care about, people who care about me.  People who love me, value me.

My mum is someone who suffers from my pre-occupation with work and friends.  This has happened all my life on the basis that to my mind, mum would always be around.  After all, I'm her daughter and she is almost obligated to be there when I call.

Except now, she's older.  Looking at it dispassionately, I have less time with her than I did last year, and the year before that.

Time, once in plentiful supply - despite the plethora of technology to enable us to do more, more quickly - is now becoming a very precious commodity.

So in 2013, I will concentrate on spending my time with people and family who desire my company, rather than trying to coax a relationship out of those who have other things to do.  Time is priceless - I will stop frittering mine away.

Nothing to see here...

I'm uneasily aware that my blog has slipped to the bottom of my agenda.  No posts since August.

This is of course, one of the golden rules of blogging - make it regular. So if I know this, and really would like people to be interested enough to read it- what's going on?

If people recognise that what they're doing is not the way it should be, feel guilty but still don't change what they're doing - there's a reason.  Maybe not an acknowledged reason - I can make all the excuses I like about being busy, or uninspired - but a reason that, twisted though it might be, is stopping you doing what you know would give you more success.

So - what are my reasons for failing to blog? I have been busy, that's true. And on holiday.  But I find time to watch my favourite TV programmes or shout at the TV during BBC Questiontime. So really, I know that these aren't my reasons.

And I might well have been uninspired - although as mentioned, current affairs still stir me to action in terms of tweeting. So that's demolished that excuse.

So what is the reason I'm not tweeting regularly? Am I lazy? Unreliable?

Excuses - or 'reasons' - as we re-label them, are often a smokescreen for what's really going on.  And I think the real reasons why my blogs aren't regular, is that actually I am butterfly-minded, easily distracted and at the beginning, I have loads of enthusiasm, but not the discipline to maintain momentum. Plus, my time management can be appalling.

And if I'm honest, I suppose that sometimes, I see all the intelligent comments made by other bloggers, and wonder if what I think about the world is worth reading.

All bad habits begin like this, I think. We find justification for our actions, whatever they are, and on the surface, they satisfy us.

But scratch that surface, go a little deeper, and the reasons are different, often very different. A little self analysis often reveals more unflattering 'reasons'.  And once you acknowledge the true reasons for your unhelpful behaviour, then you can start to tackle them. And ultimately change them.