Continue reading »]]> A few little hiccups were challenging my patience and resolve today.

Dipping into a book called “The Survivors’ Club” (which explores examples of how ordinary people have demonstrated extraordinary courage and resilience in times of mortal danger) I came across the following, describing the best survivors from the military: “No matter the adversity, the navy says, survival is a mentality, a way of thinking. Survival is also a lens, a way of perceiving the world around you…. Understanding that even misfortune gets tired and needs a break, [the best survivors are] able to hold back, identify the right moment, and then do what they need to do.”

Psychologists call this active passiveness – recognising when to press on and when to desist.

I wasn’t in mortal danger, but I took this advice to heart, retreated to my bed with a box of chocolates, a cup of tea and a hot water bottle for an hour. When I emerged I was back on form, in flow and ready to act.

Continue reading »]]> I am stood in the middle of the street, crouching on the ground taking a close up of a right blue bottle top on the tarmac. I try to look inconspicuous.

Last month a friend of mine, Sam, started a Facebook photography club, challenging members to take a picture, each day for a month, in response to a theme posted daily (eg beautiful rubbish). The day’s winner (with the most ‘likes’) had the honour of choosing the next day’s theme. It was a lot of fun.

At the end of the month, Sam (who’s a wonderful dynamo of a woman!) suggested we continue enjoying the group by each setting ourselves an individual 30-day challenge for May. This might be declaring we’re cutting out sugar from our diets, doing 20 press ups every morning or meditating for 15 minutes.

As we gear up for day 1 of the challenge  next week, I remember a post I wrote in my personal blog three years ago, and I thought I’d share it here now.

Before I go, an explanation of the nun picture. Aside from the ‘habit’ pun (geddit?), it references my personal challenge (to meditate for 15 minutes each day). Over Easter I went on a silent retreat at a convent, which is open to people of all faiths and of none (I am the latter).

I was both excited and mildly apprehensive at the thought of not talking for 4 days. Sometimes 4 minutes is a stretch. My partner challenged me to not taking anything to read  either, but I felt this posed a significant risk of brain explosion. So I took a safety book. In the end it was wonderfully relaxing and, surprisingly for me, the chapel services which took place 5 times every day were particularly beneficial. The quiet calmness of the chapel, and the beauty of the sisters’ plainsong helped my perpetually active, curious, and (let’s be honest) anxious mind to soothe itself and feel happier. And this is why I am challenging myself to meditate every day in May, and my intention is that becomes a habit.

Anyway, with thanks to the sisters, here’s that post:

9 July 2009 Die Hard

Catching the train home from Euston today there is a high than average degree of uncertainty, last minute platform changes and ungainly shuffled running in heals. I’m settling down quietly in the corner of the nearest coach when a few seasoned commuters leap up, disembark and accost a passing guard whom they’ve spotted walking down the platform.The remaining passengers wonder if they’re on the right train.

We remaining passengers watch a sweet tempered but fairly intense exchange of information with the guard. And then the seasoned commuters start pelting down the platform towards the front of the train, ties flailing. We hear the guard holler after them, “and if you hear the beeping start, just jump on!”

This was enough to spur some of the remaining passengers to tentatively hang out of the door (being on possibly the wrong train is, on some level, better than being off the train when the doors indelibly shut) and interrogate the same guard. They ascertain this is the train we all think it is. Another curious spectator of the human condition enquires as to what was up with the seasoned commuters.

“They were checking they had time to move down the train. They have a habit of sitting in their favourite seats”.

It’s one powerful habit that prompts a commuter to give up a perfectly good seat on a warm Thursday evening and sprint down platform 16. The remaining passengers exchange bemused glances.

And that gets me thinking about habits, and a conversation I’d had earlier, with a client. We were talking about how useful a benign habit is and how tricky to break a malign one can be. It reminded me of a definition of a habit as ‘A recurrent, often unconscious pattern of behaviour that is acquired through frequent repetition.’

It’s rather good, I think, that habits can be acquired. This means I can build good habits (getting me to do useful thing subconsciously) and use these to overcome any bad habits (eating Haribo when I’m bored in the afternoon). I’ve also found it helpful to recognise that bad habits have pay offs (that allow us to get away with something, quite frequently avoiding something we could usefully be doing).

Some (google powered) reading around the subject, the best of which was here, armed me with some ideas on how to persuade my brain to habitually do things better. Nothing life-changing, just little things that would make my life work better. To illustrate this point I must reveal that I’m a mild sloven.

I work from home a lot. Procrastination can occasionally be a problem. That I am a mild sloven helps on this front as it rules out housework as a source of distraction. I don’t really mind if the place is a bit dusty (unless someone turns up in which case I’m mortified) and cluttered. The exception is the kitchen. I like to cook and work surface acreage is at a premium. The washing up is a particularly attractive source of procrastination in the winter when it’s a bit cold, and soaking my hands in hot water is a pleasant reheating method. The washing up of the previous night’s dirty dishes acquires additional priority points as the hot water dries up in the commune at about 11am.

So, you get the picture. I’m a sloven and leave the washing up until the morning after, and the morning after I feel compelled to do the washing up which eats into my most productive hours of the day. I should do the washing up before going to bed. I’ve got into the bad habit of leaving it, and the pay off is that I get to procrastinate. Bad, bad, bad Melissa.

Anyway, before I reveal too much domestic information, here are some tips for changing habits, largely taken from Leo Babauta’s The Power of Less, which I stumbled across on Tim Ferris’s aspirational 4 Hour Work Week .

1) Before a new behaviour becomes a habit (ie unconscious and painless), it needs to be done every day for 30 days. After that it’ll just happen. Painlessly and without the need to give myself a good talking to.

2) Only try to create one new habit at a time, else the brain goes on a sulk and stops co-operating (that’s potentially 12 new habits a year – how great would that be).

3) Do the new habit at the same time each day (washing up before I go to bed)

4) Tie the new habit to an existing habit (touch my toes every time I dry my hair (I’m bending over anyway)).

5) Make a public declaration. Email some people who will stay on my case and tell them what I’m going to do and report back on my progress regularly. Facebook is gagging for you to share this kind of inconsequential trivia.

With the last point in mind, my friend started a F/B group ‘I run 3 times a week’ (tagline ‘Well I have told everyone else that I do and therefore need to get off my ar*e and actually do it’). It worked a treat to start with but its power has waned a little recently (possibly I’m trying to start more than one habit at a time – must heed own advice), but for a while it worked. We need more members I think – come and join .

And perhaps another tip I should apply.

6) Start small. Make the new habit easily achievable and build it up. ‘I run once a week’ might be better.

There’s a lot more, but that’s the gist. Now, it’s time for bed and I have washing up to do.

Continue reading »]]> OK, I admit it. I got out of bed on the wrong side this morning* (what a silly expression, leave me alone, I’m fine). I found myself blaming everything, everyone, and the universe, for my mood.

I’ve spent two days in the last week speaking about taking responsibility for oneself and managing one’s mood. The wise part of my brain gently suggests to the stroppy part that I need to practice what I preach.

So I reached for my iPod. And here’s why.

Rewind to last week, and a session I was running with a group of talented and charmingly boisterous trainee medical consultants. If these people get out of the bed on the wrong side and fail to pull themselves together, people die.

In the session we explored the idea (which we know to be true, thanks to the wonders of neuroscience) that the biggest influence on our performance (that is how we choose to conduct ourselves at any given point) is our emotional state, or mood. Our moods generate the pool of choices from which we pick our behaviours and attitudes which create our success (or otherwise).

And while we risk embarrassing ourselves by looking around for someone to blame for our bad mood (“he pressed my buttons”, “she’s bugging me “everything keeps going wrong”, “it’s not fair”, “it’s raining”), it’s also worth knowing that we have much more control of our own states than we realize.

He may have pushed my buttons, but I’m in charge of the wiring.

So where does the iPod come in?

One of the ways we can take control of our state (and change from stroppy to inspired, from sad to determined, from tired to energized, to give a few suggestions from my own head this morning) is to change our physiology. If we’re moping around with hunched shoulders, curled up into a resentful ball of negativity, we’re really not helping ourselves. We feel how we act (rather than the other way around).

When I believe I really don’t have it in me to ‘act myself into being’ chirpy, when I’m currently choosing to feel like something that cat dragged in (and chewed on with no mercy), music seems to be the easy way out. Listening to something chirpy helps me reconnect with my mojo. Music influences our mood by changing our heart rate and other physiological factors, as we match the vibe of what we’re hearing.

And I’ve just discovered the brilliant gadget that is Musicovery (or Music-recovery as I’m calling it). You get to tell it what mood you’d like to be in (on a scale of dark to positive and calm to energized), and then pick your genres (eradicate all risk of being exposed to folk/electro/classical or whatever you can’t stand etc) and it plays tunes that provoke that mood.

This is how I transported myself from a disappointingly grumpy snarkfest to dancing around the living room in the space of about 20 minutes.

*This was written a little while ago in order to protect the innocent.

Continue reading »]]> Our strengths are the things we do that make us feel stronger. If we know what they are, we tend to seek out opportunities to exercise them. This leaves us feeling stronger, more confident and capable, whilst we excel at something we (most likely) enjoy.

A quick way to work out personal strengths is the VIA Survey of Character Strengths (scroll down the page which contains a great deal of interesting material!). You’ll need to create a profile, but it takes very little time and is definitely worth it.

Continue reading »]]> A few weeks ago I was thinking about how dragons help us identify problems which may not be as hairy and scary as we first imagine. However, once the dragon is tamed and coaxed into a gerbil cage, our job is not necessarily complete. Quite often, the reason the gerbil-sized dragon has been so neglected, is because the problem seems sticky and difficult.

One easy and encouraging way out is to do some brainstorming. Ah yes, BRAINSTORMING, that’s a great idea, we say. For me it conjures up a sense of freedom and creativity, which is exactly what’s needed to shift the problem. Phew.

But then we jump in, all guns blazing, and proceed to get utterly tangled up in the sticky tendrils of the problem again (with an increased sense of disappointment as we thought BRAINSTORMING was the answer).

Well, quite often it is. It’s just about being careful to harness the full power of the creativity and freedom, without letting our brains migrate back into the very inviting tendrils of the problem.

Here are some brainstorming ‘rules’ (in inverted commas, so as not to clash with our new found sense of freedom).

1. Get people

If I’ve been sitting staring at the problem for three days, it’s always good to get some fresh grey matter on the case. Quite often non-expert co-brainstormees are just as (if not more) helpful than people with the same knowledge, experience and grey matter habits, as myself. And, non-experts are less afraid to….

2. Encourage wild ideas

Problems often exist because we’re stuck like limpets to some unnecessary but oh-so-beguiling beliefs and assumptions about the situation. We grasp our world view with white knuckles, to keep ourselves safe (and stuck). I like to shake my brain free by making some silly suggestions, ‘We could always rob a bank/Give up, run away and join a convent’. These tend to breed suggestions which fall into the audacious and possible category: ‘Ask Bill and Melinda Gates for help’. The key with this is to…

3. Defer judgement

Ideas do not have to be a sensible, practical, well-costed, moral, legal and realistic. They just needs to be ideas. We can sort them out later. At the moment we’re simply going for…

4. Quantity

After the initial flurry of ideas and suggestions a lull will descend. I like to risk being a little irritating by asking ‘what else?’ repeatedly, like a labrador wanting to chase sticks. The interesting ideas come when we are forced to move away from the usual suspects. At the same time we need to….

5. Stay focussed

The brain wants to avoid breaking its lovingly tended assumptions which are necessary to solve this problem. Instead it prefers to become distracted from the task at hand, and wander off. Setting a time limit or asking people to compete to come up with more ideas can help, as does….

6. Being visual

My favourite approach is a giant spider diagram on flip chart paper. Write the topic/question under consideration in the middle and give everyone a big fat pen to write down their ideas. The big pens inhibit too much fiddly detail, the smell of the ink creates a gentle high, and free-form scribbling allows everyone to see the link being made.

Try it, it’s fun, and has the added bonus of being effective.

These brain storming rules are adapted from  ‘Tribal Leadership’ by Dave Logan and friends, the audio version of which can be downloaded for free.

Continue reading »]]> Great leadership is all about having a miserable team, according to the chap whose job it is to make sure our schools are being run properly.

A good headteacher would never be loved by his or her staff, Michael Wilshaw, the new Ofsted chief told The Guardian: “If anyone says to you that ‘staff morale is at an all-time low’ you know you are doing something right.”

This left me squawking in indignation. I am choosing not to indulge in a rant right now about the influence this man has on the culture in which we’re educating our young people. Neither will I list the successful and happy schools I have worked with where both staff AND students, openly display genuine affection, respect and (yes) love for their head.

Instead, I choose to whack Sir Michael over the head with some cold, hard science.

Today, my friend Kimberley Hare at Kaizen Training published a piece describing  “crystal-clear research evidence from around the globe  – people who are happy at work produce more, think better, solve problems more creatively and effectively, take less time off sick, and collaborate better with colleagues and customers.  There is a real bottom-line pay-off”.

That sounds like a great place to teach and learn to me.

According to a decade of research, to ensure high performance in your team (which could well be a school)  it is necessary to pay attention to the ratio of positive and negative interactions taking place. For every negative experience or interaction, it takes around three positive interchanges to tip the balance back into a resourceful and happy space where teams perform well.

Head over to Kaizen for the sources.

In the meantime, if I were to have Sir Michael”s attention, I’d urge him to reconsider his views on what makes good leadership, and pay attention to the likely effects of low morale  amongst the teachers we’re relying upon to engage, inspire and encourage our young people.

Continue reading »]]> I’ve been wrestling with one of those 4am problems. It’s frequently waking me up in a cold sweat. In those dark nights of the soul, the problem assumes the proportions of a large and unfriendly dragon, breathing icy fire down my neck.

The dragon is so intimidating, unmanageable and downright nasty I am forced to practise the ancient and sophisticated art of avoidance. Tame the dragon, or check my email? Tame the dragon, or do the washing? Tame the dragon, or read the newspaper? Erm, let me think…

And so the hour, days, and (let’s be brutally honest) weeks pass. With neglect, the dragon grows wilder, with sharper claws and rancid breath. Then a compelling event countermands the strategy of avoidance (ancient and sophisticated though it may be).

Sometimes it’s a deadline, an ultimatum or a catastrophe which provokes a change. On this occasion, it was the unsustainable consumption of illuminating concealer make-up that was required to disguise my panda eyes. Sleep deprivation had left me at the end of my tether.

So I take my dragon to visit an accredited dragon whisperer, aka my business coach. She asks a few simple questions about the size, characteristics and typical behaviour of my dragon. I am embarrassed to admit I’m so busy being scared, I haven’t thought to check whether the dragon is in fact really big, or just standing extremely close to me.

With a bit of poking and prodding, deep breaths and gnashing of teeth (mine), it turns out the dragon is small enough to fit in a gerbil cage. And not nearly as bad as I’d imagined.

The moral of this story is that dragons are helpful creatures. They pick up on problems early on, when we’re in denial phase. And they try to alert us. The prickling on the back of the neck, the quiet nagging of distant dread. If we get quiet and listen, dragons can help us avoid a lot of pain and sleepless nights.

When ignored, the dragon continues to pursue its mission to protect us. It gets all medieval and starts attracting attention through more draconian measures (4am awakenings and icy fire breath). Which, ideally, are to be avoided.

The trick is to get quiet and listen. So to ensure proper dragon husbandry, I’m spending more time sitting in the coffee shop thinking, with the companionship of my journal. Rather than busying myself into denial and avoidance, and trying hard to make sure my dragons stay small and friendly.

If your dragon was currently trying to tell you something, what would it be?

Continue reading »]]> “Every morning, while I’m brushing my teeth, I think up tricky questions for myself”. So says Elouise, one of our Oxbridge Interview Success students.

Having developed a taste for delicious questions like ‘Is music a language?’, ‘How would the world be if ice didn’t float?’ and ‘Is torture ever morally justifiable?’, our students are encouraged to keep practising. And practising. With each other, with their teachers, and in the bathroom mirror.

Elouise’s tactics reminded me of a conversation I’d had with a massage therapist last autumn.

While he inflicts a world of pain on my exhausted body, I ask how I could maintain my physical resilience during the busiest times of the year.

Rather than attempting to sign me up to a year-long treatment programme, or sell me some magic potion, Mr Complementary Therapy says the best thing would be to do five minutes of yoga every day. “It’s the things we do every day that make the difference”.

The stroppy teenage part of me rolls her eyes. Of course I know yoga is good for my body. And of course I know that if my body is in good shape, my brain works better and my business benefits. Of course I feel great when I make it to a class. But quite often it’s all too much effort, especially when I’m busy.

And then the penny drops. It’s not necessarily making it to the class each week that brings the greatest benefits. It’s doing some yoga, even just five minutes, every day. It’s Elouise pondering something clever while brushing her teeth. And that’s easy.

Relatively easy. Sometimes I have to talk myself out of watching Masterchef in favour of setting out my mat. I bought myself some new leggings by way of sartorial encouragement. Classes are attended more regularly, and are even more enjoyable as my five-minutes-per-day practice has generated great progress on my ability to bend myself in half. The hump of inertia has been conquered, and yoga has become a habit.

Just as Elouise is unable to brush her teeth without pondering some form of brain stretching, I feel periodically feel compelled to roll out my yoga mat and do a double pigeon. Now, five minutes doesn’t seem like enough.

Aristotle said: “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit”.

The question I am asking myself more often is, “What little thing can I do everyday that will make things better?”.

Continue reading »]]> Talking with my coach this week, I was reviewing my (very successful) October. She asked me how I celebrated my wins.

When we’re on a mission to change, improve and excel, it’s easy to be tough on ourselves. We cross the latest hard-won win off the list and immediately launch into the next challenge. We want to maintain the momentum.

But constant striving and stretching can leave us with cramp in the brain! When we consistently replace ‘yes, I did it, check me out!’ with ‘ok, buckle up, we must crack on’, we miss the opportunity for a (completely legal and safe) drug induced high. Want some?

When we’re in ‘ok, buckle up, we must crack on’ mode, our brains release the stress hormone cortisol, which helps us deal with challenging situation. This is effective and powerful in moderation, but it’s counterproductive when administered in large doses.

When we allow ourselves a bit of ‘yes, I did it, check me out!’, our brains kick out dopamine. This is the legal high, scored by luxuriating in the afterglow. Dopamine is the reward chemical which makes us feel good, helps us remember better, and encourages us to keep doing whatever we just did.

And it’s a fantastic means of rationalising a day at the spa and a modest Oxford Street shopping expedition. My coach pointed out that while the spa is great, rewarding yourself with something tangible that you can ‘peacock’ about in, is a reward that keeps giving.

Calls to action:

1. Rather than crossing tasks off your list, give yourself a smiley face or a gold star.
2. High fives and/or skipping around the room and/or standing on a table and/or singing and/or provoking a round of applause also works.
3. Try doing something you wouldn’t normally do. Read the paper in the bath, or go for a walk while listening to your favourite album.
4. For big wins, or a collection of little ones, a more substantial treat may be in order. Pick something that will be a continual reminder your brilliance. Every time you slip on that new jacket, see that beautiful new notebook, or listen to that CD, you’ll be reminded of how superb you are.

Praise breeds success, reinforces positive beliefs and encourages our brains to work better. Go on, you know you want some.

Continue reading »]]> Sometimes life throws us a curve ball. We’re left not knowing which way is up. Or down. How do we decide what to do?

One option is to consult the wisdom of a trusted adviser. Someone who has overflowing bucketfuls of experience, wisdom and judgement. They might be an international superstar in their field, or a trusted friend.

So what happens if we don’t have Steve Jobs on speed dial, or Mariella Frostrup living next door? Or perhaps our coach/boss/partner/Great Aunt Maud is otherwise engaged?

Well, we simply imagine what they would say, if we could ask them.

The thing is, our very own brains do know the answer. We all have immense amounts of resourcefulness, creativity and ingenuity bundled up inside us. The trouble is, sometimes we’re so tangled up in our own stuckness, the cunning ideas are reluctant to emerge.

So we ask the question: “If I was Steve Jobs/Mariella Frostrup/Great Aunt Maud, what would I do/ask/say/see/feel?”

The “if” gives our brains permission to enter a parallel dimension. We’re unfettered by stuckness. We also borrow the faith we have in our trusted adviser and apply it to ourselves. And then our resourcefulness is unleashed.

When stuck:

1. Believe there is a new way of approaching the situation and be open to finding it

2. Consider who would be in your fantasy advisory board.

3. Ask the question ‘If I was (person X), what would I do/ask/say/see/feel….?’