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….?’

Continue reading »]]>

How come some people take life in their stride? Small hiccups don’t rattle them, and they rebound from large setbacks even stronger than before. This gives them the confidence to stretch further, knowing they’ll cope whatever the outcome.

The answer is resilience… or how high we bounce after we hit the floor.

Why is resilience important? Think of yourself as a boat, and your level of resilience as the depth of water in which you’re floating. The inevitable challenges of life are large submerged rocks, lurking in the depths. If you have plenty of resilience, the boat of your life is much less likely to hit the rocks. When your resilience levels are low, it’s much more likely you’ll run aground.

There are a variety of ways in which we can raise the water level, avoid rogue waves, ensure we’re not blown off course, reinforce our hull and further extend this metaphor. For now, let’s think about keeping the boat well-stocked with provisions, in the form of emotional energy.

If we consume provisions more quickly than we restock, we’ll very soon end up starved and weak. We’re more likely to make mistakes, and we’re not in the best state to deal with a freak storm. It’s the same with our emotional reserves. If we’re depleted, we’re at greater risk of make poor decisions, or being ill. And if external events conspire against us, we’re less able to cope well.

Paying attention to our emotional reserves, and ensuring we’re well stocked, is a simple way of building resilience.

What aspects of life deplete and drain you? What aspects of life nourish and replenish? What’s the net effect?

Do an emotional reserves audit and boost your resilience

1. List the aspects of your life which are draining and depleting
2. List the aspects of your life which are nourishing and replenishing
3. Consider how much time and effort you invest in each
4. What one change can you make that will boost your emotional reserves?
5. Do it

NB For the martyrs amongst us, whose reflex is to look after everyone else before themselves (not that I’d know anything about that), it’s important to remember that looking after ourselves isn’t selfish. We are able to help, support, nurture and share our stash of emotional reserves, only if we have something left to give. So stock up first!

Continue reading »]]> Imagine you’re nervously waiting to be called in for interview. Or you’re striding up to the wicket to bat. Or you’re baking a cake for you in-laws’ imminent visit.

You know you can do a great job. But the trouble is you didn’t sleep well, you’ve run out of Weetabix, and your lucky pants are in the wash.

In other words, you’re in “A right state”* rather than “THE right state”.

What’s to be done? The first step is completed already. We’ve decided to change our response to a set of circumstances. Tick.

How is this achieved? Try a method that appeals most to your personal style and circumstances.

Option A: Get physical.

Move your body around in a way that signals to yourself change is afoot. If appropriate, skip and jump around the room, do star jumps or windmill your arms around (one at a time, forward and then back, then both at the same time in opposite directions, and switch). This will interrupt your black dog thought patterns and encourage you to….

Option B: Breathe!

When we’re anxious, frustrated or in a right state, we tend to take shallow, sharp, short, rapid breaths. A few long, wholesome breaths into the belly (imagine you’re filling up like a balloon on the inhale) moderates the stress hormones flooding through our veins. Unlike skipping and windmilling your arms around, there are few circumstances in which deep breathing is frowned upon.

Option C: Star in a movie.

Imagine a montage of film clips detailing the highlights of you life. Your big successes, times when you were feeling most confident and happy (that time you swam with dolphins/scored the winning try/threw a superb dinner party/won the chess trophy/passed your driving test/went hiking on your own/brought the house down). Play it in your head with an uplifting sound track.

Then continue the story by mixing in a few clips of your future life where you’re virtually indistinguishable from your hero in whatever endeavour you’re undertaking. You speak like Obama, wield the bat like Sachin Tendulkar, or fold like Delia Smith.

With a little concentration, you will find yourself in exactly the right state to succeed.

*Best pronounced in a Yorkshire accent, with thanks to Claire Emmott.

Continue reading »]]> “I know it’s important to take time to walk around and smell the flowers”, says a client of mine. He’s not some hippy chick, but a successful entrepreneur, with a house in Tuscany and enough land to merit a tractor.

Graham* has discovered the joy of ‘savouring’. The same benefits come from rubbing a piece of apple on your face. Let me explain.

Last weekend I attended a positive psychology workshop led by Chris Johnstone. Positive psychology is the relatively young academic study of how humans can develop satisfaction, joy and happiness. It provides an evidence base for the ideas we read in personal development books.

After lunch, Chris passes around a plate of apple slices. He has us pick one up and play with it in the manner of a suspicious 3-year-old. We stare at it, smell it, rub it on our faces, lick it, take a tiny tiny bite, hold that morsel in our mouths, roll it around, suck at it, listen to it crunch and generally take our time.

This is known as savouring.

Chris explains when we look at ordinary things in a different way, really savouring and appreciating their beauty (crunch, juiciness, green-ness, tart flavour), our mood improves and we become happier (according to research).

This reminds of my yoga teacher asking me to lift all my toes off the ground and then (attempt) to put them back one by one, so I feel really connected to the floor. Viktoria has so deeply developed her appreciation of the feel of her feet on the ground, that simply paying attention to it feels wonderful. I want some of that feeling too.

So I’ve been savouring things. It turns out that for something that sounds incredibly simple, it’s not that easy. I walk to work watching the swallows swooping above me, listening to the twack of my flip flops against my feet, smelling the roses in other peoples’s gardens. And then suddenly I realise I’ve spent the last five minutes plotting what to have for dinner that evening, and (simultaneously) beating myself for forgetting to pick up my (overdue) library books. More practice is needed, but I’m already sensing the benefits.

Is it worth the effort? The science says yes, as do Viktoria, Chris, Graham and I. But don’t take our word for it. Give it a go.

1. Set your phone timer to 2 minutes.
2. Do something simple (sitting in your chair qualifies).
3. Pay attention to your five senses. What are they picking up?
4. Imagine you are a child experiencing this for the first time, what’s exciting about it? (I know the average 3-year-old would be fascinated by my office chair).
5. If you make it to 2 minutes without thinking about the past or the future, then nice job. Tomorrow, try it for 3 minutes, and repeat with something else.

With practice, your mood will improve and you happiness will increase. Enjoy.

*details have been changed

Continue reading »]]> Earlier this month, I spent a fascinating afternoon in conversation with mental toughness coach Phil Pearl. To let you picture the scene, I was chatting about existential philosophy with a friendly, articulate and highly perceptive version of Phil Mitchell.

We were talking about the notion of choice when coaching clients report they have lost control of events, activities, relationships or life.

The warning signs go like this:

“I must….”

“I have no choice….”

“I should….”

“I have to….”

All accompanied by a pained expression of resignation.

Whenever my clients start displaying these warning signals, I ask them “Who wrote the rule book that you are choosing to follow?” and “How is that serving you?”

Phil takes the approach “You do have a choice. You don’t have to do anything. You always have a choice. You always have the option of shooting yourself in the head.”

As for the maths formulae? They are saying the same thing:

E ≠ O

The Event (whatever’s “happening to us”) doesn’t determine the Outcome (wherever we end up).

E+R = O

What determines the Outcome is the Event, plus our Response.

~~~~~~~End of maths~~~~~~~

Of course Phil is using an extreme example to illustrate the point. Our beliefs, other people’s expectations, and social norms, fox us into behaving according to these ‘shoulds, musts, and oughts’.

We can either choose to follow them, or choose not to. Choosing to flout the rules may be uncomfortable. However, following the rules is also a choice which (although it may feel easier at the time) may cause more discomfort in the long run.

The key is recognising the word ‘choice’. It’s always up to us. There are very few circumstances in which we do not have a choice.

Next time you sense things are out of control:

1. Write down your options (if you’re stuck, start with the ridiculous ‘shoot myself’, ‘rob a bank’, ‘change my identity’, and work your way down)
2. Work out the consequences of each option.
3. Make your choice.
4. Do it. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sD8vwxhxKpA&feature=related)

Even if you end up doing what you’ve always done, if you do it in the knowledge that this is a conscious decision, it’s a more empowering place to be.

Continue reading »]]> Do you often feel that one day someone’s going to find out you’re a complete fraud? Any minute now you’ll get a tap on the shoulder and news there’s been a terrible administrative error. You are not really meant to be here, you don’t have the necessary skills or experience, and your face doesn’t fit.

Congratulations. You have imposter syndrome (aka tap-on-the-shoulder-itis).

This is a phenomenon common amongst high achievers (particularly academics). It exists when we fail to internalise all external evidence of our competence. Any success we have is down to luck and/or our ability to deceive everyone else we’re more intelligent than we really are. Cunning huh?

What’s the treatment?

1. Recognise this is what’s going on (even if we don’t believe it, this is the first step to changing things).
2. Know that while a realistic grasp of our weaknesses areas for development is useful, full blown imposter syndrome causes stress and anxiety. It inhibits our ability to progress and succeed further. It causes perfectionism, procrastination, chronic self-doubt and a painful reaction to any criticism. It’s exhausting, and it doesn’t serve us well.
3. Create a new belief that does serve us. Rather than “I am a fraud and have been bluffing my way at rocket science/brain surgery/teaching Latin for 5 years” the new belief may be “I am highly skilled and competent in my field”.
4. Collect evidence to support this belief. This could be an email folder full of positive feedback you’ve received, a pinboard full of letters from grateful patients, photos of you doing whatever it is you do, conversations with people who know you are great. Put the evidence in a format that you’ll come across regularly.

The trouble with life is that while we experience everyone else succeeding with tremendous regularity, we often fail to notice or absorb our own triumphs. Taking a different perspective can help immensely.

I experienced this myself when I took my friend the incredible photographer Maria along to document one of my workshops. The short-lived (and quickly forgotten) buzz I get on the day of delivery (which helps me overcome my imposter syndrome) is now maintained as I have her photos on my screensaver.

Every time I see the photographic evidence, I am reminded I wasn’t imagining it, and I’m not in the middle of an incredibly elaborate plot to fool the world. Those people really were listening to me.