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.

 

My other body is a temple

Out for a run yesterday morning, I spotted the slogan ‘my other body is a temple’ scrawled on a passer-by’s t-shirt.

Now I’m sure there must be a coachy link here, but for now I just wanted to share it with you because it tickled me.

(Anyone who does think of a fantastic coachy link gets a prize and I’ll stick it up on here…!)

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!