Season of mists, mellow fruitfulness and exceedingly fat spiders

The kids are back to school and therefore it’s a return to the 6.30am alarm that I’d been free from for six blissful weeks. Two weeks in, and we’re starting to notice that, whilst not dark, it’s not exactly light out there at that time now either. This is always a blow to the Bradford family. Between us all, we’ve had 85 years’ experience of it getting darker in the winter yet it somehow takes us by surprise every autumn.

We are prone to getting a bit glum as the light leaves, so we’ve worked on a ‘lovely list’ on the theme of the colder months. Here’s what we’ve come up with so far:

• that lovely misty light in the morning that picks out enormously fat-bodied spiders sitting on their vast webs (although not so good when you walk through the aforesaid webs on your way to feed the chickens in the morning…)
• it being cold enough at night to snuggle under the duvet without wanting to kick it off five minutes later
• open fires
• coming in from the cold and warming up with a good cuppa (or, even better, a hot chocolate)
• tights and boots (this was obviously just the female members of the family…)
• satsumas and clementines
• frost – we love to examine all the pretty patterns on the windscreens of the cars parked on the route to school
• red wine really comes into its own when the weather gets colder
• the leaves turning – achingly beautiful
• bonfire night
• hallowe’en
• Christmas
• soup
• being inside and warm with nowhere we have to go to when it’s dark/cold/raining outside
• seeing the sunrise when you’re making your morning cuppa
• kicking up leaves
• conkers
• snuggly jumpers
• porridge for breakfast
• board games and books
• snow (a very rare treat round these parts!)

Any more? Please add your thoughts!

Saying ‘no’ with style to would-be borrowers

I was recently approached by a journalist from Prima magazine, to contribute to an article on saying ‘no’. She asked me what life coachy things I had to say about when friends want to borrow something that you don’t want to lend.

The whole article is out in this month’s issue (August 2009) – on p54, if you’re interested – but space dictated that my contribution had to be heavily edited. However, for you lovely readers of O&U, here is my contribution in full:

• Many people (myself included until quite recently) labour under the impression that there is a need to explain yourself when saying no. It’s fantastically liberating when you realise that you really don’t have to explain. Not at all. Of course, if pressed, you can choose to explain yourself, but it’s still not an obligation. Armed with this knowledge, you transform yourself overnight from a stuttering, embarrassed person with a tendency to fib for England into a cool, assertive and confident chick – ‘oh, er, um, I can’t lend you that dress, er, because, um, my sister’s borrowing that night and, er, for the next fortnight’ [exits backwards, red-faced], becomes ‘I hope you understand, but I’d really rather not.’ [flash of charming smile and a swift change of subject]

 

• If you find that you do want to explain, keep it general and not personal. My friend Tess, a props maker, found herself continually lending tools out and having them returned in a less-than-perfect condition. Eventually, she decided on a ‘no-lend’ policy and, when pressed, would explain that she’d had a few problems in the past with lending items which had sometimes compromised her friendship with the borrowers so now she prefers not to lend at all. No names named, and it does the job perfectly.

 

• Check in with yourself before responding, if you have the opportunity. What’s that irritation actually about? Has this friend let you down before when she borrowed something, or are you tarring her with the same brush as your less reliable acquaintances? Is it that she wants to borrow something very precious to you? You can say no! Or maybe this is about you feeling that you’re always bailing people out or that you’re rather unfairly being leant on? Maybe this is a symptom then of your friendship, or of your own view of yourself, both of which are issues that you can work on. It might be that, on reflection, you decide that the lend is not as much of a problem as you first thought (but if it is still a source of irritation and you decide not to do it, that’s ok too!)

 

•  You could attach conditions for the lend, if it makes it more acceptable to you e.g that the item is dry-cleaned / returned by Tuesday / that any ‘consumables’ used are replaced (like tape in video cameras or similar). Similarly, you could try reciprocation e.g ‘of course you can borrow my camera – could I ask a favour in return and borrow that novel you were raving about last week?’, or ‘yes, you can borrow my necklace – any chance of a few of your chickens’ eggs?

 

• Flattery and/or distraction can work e.g ‘well it’s true that you’d look great in my new dress, but that blue Jigsaw one of yours really makes you look fantastic – have you thought about wearing that?’ or ‘you know, rather annoyingly, that dress is on sale now at Whistles. As you like it so much, why don’t you get one too, so long as we promise not to wear it to the same party…’

 

• Finally, if all else fails, a white lie to wriggle out of a lend is better than complying under pressure and then carrying a big grudge. But do work on becoming more assertive – the more you flex that muscle the stronger it gets and the easier it is to say no confidently and with a clear conscience.

 

Lenten leanings

A good few years ago, I had the pleasure of teaching English to a really motivated and positive Chinese student. This young man was a lover of new words and their nuances as well as the customs and general quirks of his new surroundings.

It was Shrove Tuesday and he came in, full of wonder and questions about pancakes. The discussion led on to Lent and its religious meaning and tradition of giving something up for the 40 day period and how it was commonplace to do this, even in the most secular circles.

Now, this student was almost surgically attached to his electronic Chinese-English dictionary, which he insisted on consulting, even when having apparently understood the explanation of new words. It had become a joke between us that he was addicted to his dictionary, so I was surprised and delighted when he announced that he would give up using it in lessons for Lent. He promptly placed the dictionary in his bag and we got on with the rest of our lesson.

A couple of days later, I met up with a good friend for lunch. He happens to be an eminent clergyman who sits on the Bishops Council (as well as a very good conversationalist with an unrivalled stock of rude jokes). We chatted away as we ate lunch, which culminated in two large slices of a decadent chocolate cake. As we were finishing the last mouthfuls of the cake, I laughingly confessed that I’d given up chocolate for Lent, to which he replied that he had too and we had a conspiratorial giggle.

After lunch, I had another lesson with my Chinese student. At one point, I was struggling to come up with an understandable explanation of a tricky word he’d come across, so I suggested he look it up in his dictionary. He looked at me, rather puzzled, and simply said ‘but I’ve given up using the dictionary for Lent’. The taste of the chocolate cake was still in my mouth.

It really struck me that day that the person with the least obvious  ’investment’ in the Lenten tradition was the one who was the most committed. This isn’t meant to be a post about austerity or religious values - it’s about commitment to a decision and making it yours. My reasons for giving something up for Lent were vaguely churchy, but mostly because people had asked me what I was going to give up for Lent this year so I picked one of the usuals. My friend had more religious reasons, but still the ‘giving up’ is more a tradition than an obligation within the Church. Both of us had decided to give something up in an ‘I suppose I should’ sort of a way. In short, we were obviously not committed!

My student had decided to give up using his dictionary, despite being non-Christian and not having been brought up in a Christian-ised secular society which observes the pancakes-and-giving-something-up tradition. There was no ’should’ with him – he made his decision out of a desire to embrace the culture in his host country. He wanted to do it.

Sometimes, the very fact you have done something before, maybe time and again, seems like a reason to do it again. Look at your decision to do something – be it giving something up for Lent, embarking on a new exercise regime or going for a promotion - and take a fresh angle on it. Are there any ’shoulds’ in play here? Where do they come from? What would make you genuinely want to take this action? Find your motivation – whatever it may be – and really feel it before committing. Watch your results change!

Having trouble committing to something? Call me!

dance more!

At this time of year, there’s always a slew of magazine articles, telly programmes and the like, telling people how to change their lives in big or small ways – giving up smoking, losing weight, getting more exercise or whatever. All very admirable, but the ‘joke’ is that many of these good intentions have flown out of the window by about January 3rd, leaving the resolver frustrated and disappointed in themselves.

Some of the better articles or programmes of the ‘Happy New You’ ilk will include advice on how to make these resolutions stick, and often quote life coaches (indeed, I have contributed to this sort of article for the Brighton Argus and the TES in the past), giving tips on how to make your goals SMART, and how to make sure they’re in line with your values etc. As a coach, I can and I do help people with their goals in this way, and if you do want help and support with changing your life, please contact me.

I was having a conversation with my six-year-old daughter yesterday about New Year’s resolutions and what they were, and I asked her what she would resolve for 2009. We had a piece of paper we were doodling on, and she immediately wrote on it ‘dance more’.

She has recently started a dance class after school and is very enthusiastic about it, so that’s what she had in mind, but it struck me that it would be a wonderful metaphor for how I’d like to live my life in 2009. There’s nothing specific, measurable or time-bound about it, and as a goal it’s about as nebulous as you can get, but ‘dance more’ has really stuck with me in the last 24 hours as a wonderfully freeing philosophy for life, and it’s made it to the front of my diary for the New Year – to remind me I’m going to take 2009 by the hand and lead it in my own dance.

Where could you dance more with your life? What would that be like? Will your dance be a sexy salsa, a brooding tango or will you hop balletically towards the spring? Email me – I’d love to know!

Which way are you heading today?

which way are you heading today?

 I love this picture!  It was taken when we were staying at the fantastically-named Sandy Balls holiday resort, by the New Forest.  

I have it as the wallpaper on my laptop to remind me to make the decision every day as to which way I’m choosing to go – are actions such as procrastination, avoidance, or not looking after myself taking me to Stuckton, or am I ‘in flow’, creative, productive and heading for Blissford?

Which way are you pointing right now?

Onwards and upwards? I went backwards and down!!

Picture the scene – it’s Christmas day in the Highlands of Scotland and we’re staying in a stone cottage with a roaring fire, kids playing happily with the toys Santa brought them.  My husband hands me a present – it’s an upmarket-looking embossed silver envelope.  Surely this has to contain a voucher for some luxury or other – a spa day perhaps, or a ticket to somewhere exotic?  He watches me, smiling, as I open it and read…

…it was a voucher for an abseiling experience. AN ABSEILING EXPERIENCE!!!! Had the man gone utterly mad?! Perhaps he had me mixed up with some other wife he’s been keeping secret?  Had there been some terrible admin mistake somewhere?  All goodwill and warm fuzzy Christmassy feelings went from the room in an instant.  I went completely white and momentarily feigned completely unconvincing delight (whilst tears of fear pooled in my eyes) before fleeing.

The ferocity of my rising panic and anger amazed me.  It’s true that I had lots of gremlins that lurk around such pursuits (due to being frogmarched to outdoor activity centres all too often when I was an overweight and underconfident teen – shudder), but I’m not afraid of heights and I knew the likelihood of everyone else pointing and laughing at me was extremely low (and now I’d have things to say and ways to deal with it if they had done!) – so why this paralysing dread?

When I calmed down enough to trust that I wouldn’t shout, swear or do harm to him, I talked to Richard and asked him (very politely!) what had been his thought processes around this particular present. He said that he’d known it was not the sort of thing I’d usually do (admitting he hadn’t anticipated how strongly against it I’d felt!) and he’d thought it would be a fun challenge, in a widening-your-comfort-zone sort of a way.  He also added that I could change it or not go if I wanted.

Oddly enough, it was this comment that made me decide to do it.  It reminded me that, as adults, we always have choice, even if it doesn’t appear obvious.  The fact I could actively choose to abseil down a 10m tower, rather than react to an event (ie being given it as a present) and therefore give away my choice by making it ‘Richard’s fault’,  immediately quelled some of the panic.  I also decided that I’d phone up and book myself in soon, rather than ‘oops’ letting the deadline come and go without any action (inaction being a passive choice in itself).  Besides, I wanted to show my girls (and myself, for that matter) that mummy can face her fears.

So finally, last weekend, the day came, after almost 9 months’ of nailbiting since that Christmas drama.  Although I felt strong and proud that I’d made the decision to ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’, the fact was that I still couldn’t even think about leaning back over that precipice without wanting to be sick.  My family rather sensibly kept a low profile all morning and then the time came.

The more I felt unwell at the very thought of abseiling, the more I became determined to go for it.  However, when the instructor was showing us how to put on our harnesses, there was an almost primal urge to bolt – I had to physically restrain myself from running a mile in the opposite direction.  At the same time as feeling this overwhelming fear (the likes of which I don’t recall ever having had before), I was really interested in the feeling.  I’ve been practising mindfulness lately and it was comforting, in the middle of such an intense experience, not to be trying to block the feelings out but to observe them, almost subjectively, in a loving way. It didn’t stop me sobbing as I watched the first of our group balance on his tiptoes 10m up before lowering himself down though!

When it came to my turn, I focused on the choice I’d made to be there. I climbed up three flights of stairs inside the tower, willing myself on with every step.  At the top Simon, the instructor, explained what I needed to do whilst I clung on to the handrail for dear life. All the time, I had a still small voice telling me what amazing learning this all was.  But I still had to lower myself over…

Well, I did that.  The part that had worried me most was done and I was horizontal, many metres over the ground.  Then Simon said I needed to loosen my grip on the rope if I wanted to go anywhere.

I don’t know whether you’ve ever hung, clinging on to a rope, high off the ground. However, I can tell you that all your instincts scream at you to keep clinging on to that rope, whatever you do, don’t let go.  And here was Simon telling me I had to loosen my grip!  Well, that did it – all mindfulness was forgotten and sheer unadulterated terror took over.  I screamed that I wanted to get back up and was back up in a second, crying on poor Simon’s shoulder.  He was the perfect mixture of encouraging and listening, told me that I’d done the bit most people bottle out at, and asked me what I wanted to do.

I had choice again. I projected forward and tried out telling my daughters both scenarios, and telling them I hadn’t done it was awful, as was the idea of descending those stairs.  My decision was to do it. I composed myself, answered ‘yes’ when Simon asked if I was happy, and I leaned back and eased off on the rope.

It took a long time to descend those few metres as my grip was still pretty tight, but eventually I got to the bottom, to applause from the rest of the group. I had wondered whether I’d feel euphoric having done it, but I didn’t. What I did feel was that the worst part of the experience had just been the fear, but that I now knew I could get through that – even the abject terror. Franklin Roosevelt said “We have nothing to fear but fear itself”, and that seems a particularly apt quotation for my experience.  I saw fear in that moment for just what it was – a feeling, and nothing else.

Having beaten the fear once, I wanted to test myself and eventually went down the tower a further three times. I’d told Richard and the girls to stay away at the beginning (mostly as I didn’t want my daughters learning the swear words which have a habit of coming out when I’m under pressure), but called them after my second descent so they could come and see.  My six-year-old was typically unimpressed (“jump, mummy!”, “mummy, you’re not going very fast!” etc) but I was happy to have been a positive role model for them and I hope that they will remember the experience one day when faced with a massive personal challenge themselves.

As for me now, I will probably never do abseiling again, but I know that I could do if the situation arose. I also know that I have the ability to overcome that sort of fear and so could do something that provoked similar feelings if necessary (although I’ve told Richard that this does not mean a potholing experience would be appreciated this Christmas!).  I also know now – thanks to Simon – that to get anywhere in abseiling or in life, I need to loosen my grip on the rope a little.

Are you holding on too tight anywhere in your life? Do you have a dread of something that’s coming up? Give me a call!

Loosening my grip

Back down to earth!

Back to Straightforward Coaching website

www.straightforwardcoaching.com

The Abseiling Experience was provided by Hatt Adventures
www.thehatt.co.uk

Fair trade foodie

We’re at the end of Fair Trade Fortnight and you could be forgiven for thinking that it never happened. The shops are stuffed to the ceilings with over-priced, over-packaged Easter eggs made with cocoa that the food giants have paid a pittance to the growers for in order to fatten our waistlines and their profit margins.

In Worthing, we’re fortunate to have two supermarkets nearby who actively promote fair trade (Co-op and Waitrose) so that we have a real ethical choice available to us. I’m now happy that the enormous Co-op Fair Trade egg I’ve bought for Emika will produce the inevitable sugar high and chocolatey handprints throughout the house but won’t have the bitter taste of injustice.

Spare a thought for those West African farmers, squeezed into poverty by the food giants. Fairly traded tea, coffee and chocolate are widely available now, as well as sugar, wine, bananas and a growing range of fruit. If you have a Co-op nearby, take advantage of the Fair Trade choice available to you. If you don’t, lobby your local supermarket into action. You can make a difference!

Making space for spring

It’s Easter, and whether you are Christian or not, it’s a time of new life and awakening. Trees are laden with blossom, there are lambs in the fields, grass verges are resplendent in purple and yellow, our daughter is delighting in the caterpillars that have appeared and there’s a new mildness in the air.

This year, spring seems to have arrived very quickly. Only last month, the snow had taken us southerners by surprise. And yet, last weekend, we were treated to temperatures of 20 degrees plus. Inspired by the warm weather, my husband took to the garden. A few hours later, having created bags and bags full of garden waste (his forte), he drove to the council dump only to find that the world and his wife had obviously had the same idea – there was a queue 20 cars long!

Funny how spring triggers an instinctive urge to clear out. Old things, no longer serving any use, have to make way, clearing a space for potential to manifest itself. This is true on many levels, from detoxing our diets to clearing out the loft. Once we have freed ourselves from the anchors of surplus possessions, commitments, weight, weeds(!), or whatever it is, we allow the potential in.

The space we create is magic. Some people are frightened of it and immediately plug the gap with more possessions, or busy-up their time. The real art is to sit in the space and be open to what happens.

My challenge to you this month is to clear some space in your life in as many or as few areas as you feel comfortable. This could be from taking a bag of old clothes to the charity shop, to a complete overhaul of every aspect of your life. Sit with it. Be comfortable in it. See what happens. Let me know how you get on.

Relocation : what’s important to you?

The exercise in the previous post (eco-friendly coaching) is perfect for people considering moving. However, if you are at the stage of just considering whether relocation is for you, you might find the following exercise a little more manageable. The idea is to take notice of what is important to you in your daily life (some things get into such a routine that we can take them for granted until they are no longer available to us) so that you have clear criteria for what you need in your new location. Every day for a week, note down what you did, what you thought about it and what, if anything, you would like to change about it. Here are some examples:

Sunday: To church. I love being part of a real community. I wish there were more opportunities to mix with such a wide variety of people in other contexts.

Wednesday: At the gym. A fab step aerobics class! Think I’d go mad if I didn’t have this facility so close.

Thursday: Took the dog for a walk. Trudging round the block. It would be great if there were somewhere close I could take him off the lead and let him run.

Write down all your thoughts as they occur to you – don’t edit them. Highlight anything that comes up that you consider to be key to your identity.

Your next task is this: using your notes you have already made and adding anything else that occurs to you, make a list of what is really important to you (as an individual, couple or family group) about where you live now. When you have done that, highlight, underline or asterisk those things on the list that are absolutely necessary for you to keep your identity. Here is an example:

• garden or private outdoor space
• opportunities for work
• broadband internet access
• gym
• place of worship
• good schools
• open spaces, etc., etc.

If you know where you want to relocate to, check what’s important to you against what is there and consider what you will do in the event of any gaps. If you are still contemplating a move, keep this checklist to hand whenever you are considering a potential location.

Eco-friendly coaching

Ecology has always been a subject close to my heart. Last month, I touched upon our global responsibility for the future of our planet. As I understand it, this means making sure that our individual actions, indeed our very existence, impact as little as is practically possible on the environment. Simple things, such as using eco- friendly washing products, not taking the car on short trips, recycling and composting our waste and picking up litter are all ways we can help to reduce our carbon footprint (use the CAT calculator to calculate yours).

Last week, on my NLP Practitioner’s training, I learned a new slant on the definition for the word ecology. In NLP, ecology is the study of consequences – the results of any change that occurs. Just as we (hopefully!) are concerned about the effects of our actions on the natural environment, we should also look at the effects of our actions and decisions on our social environment and within ourselves.

Making decisions based on personal or social ecology can sometimes be obvious: a sporty two-seater won’t work as a family car, however sexy it looks in the showroom. Not every decision is so clear-cut though. I often hear clients struggling with a goal they have set themselves which may look good on paper but, after a bit of digging, turns out to be incongruent with their values or beliefs. In short, their goal is not ecological for them.

If you find yourself struggling to manifest a goal you have set yourself, try this exercise* to discover the hidden fears, beliefs and values that might be holding you back: write down all the reasons why you DON’T want that goal in your life. Let your darkest thoughts surrounding your goal reveal themselves on paper and keep writing until you can’t come up with any more. These are some of the fears, beliefs and consequences surrounding your goal or decision and they might include the one(s) that are holding you back. Once they are all out in the open, you may find some issues you need to work through before you are ready to achieve your target. Reframing or redefining your goal to address the conflicting value or belief could also work to integrate the goal with your personal ecology. Of course, working with me as your coach and NLP practitioner would help you enormously here, but you knew that already, didn’t you?

*with thanks to Lisa Wynn and associates