Showing posts with label connect. Show all posts
Showing posts with label connect. Show all posts

Wednesday, 4 June 2014

Life imitates art: reflections on a night at the ballet



Prologue
It began when I met Joyce in Tescos. Joyce reminds me of my mother. White hair, fragile, quietly game. She would not let me carry her shopping. “This street is not as friendly as it was”, Joyce told me. I was glad I had a six pound ticket for the ballet to look forward to.

There is something democratic about a six pound standing ticket. You queue up on the day of the performance, and hope for a miracle. The miracle is that however many people queue, there are nearly always enough tickets. Six pounds do not buy you a clear view of the stage, but at least you get a view.

That night, the show consisted of three one act ballets: something classical with fairies, a premiere based on neuroscience, and something American and droll.

Act One

Just as the lights were going down, an elderly lady accompanied by a young man arrived in a wheelchair. White hair, fragile, quietly game. The curtain went up almost immediately. There was no time for removing outer layers, settling, and so on. So they sat as they were, in rainproof clothing.

The elderly lady leant forward at a slightly disturbing angle. The young man sat bolt upright against a pillar. Something was missing. I wondered if the lady could see the stage? And why was the young man so detached?

Act Two

After the fairies, came the premiere of a ballet to do with mapping connections in the brain. As the dancers interacted on the stage, the lady in the wheelchair started to take off her outer jacket. The young man took no notice. The lady leaned forward in her wheelchair so that her head seemed almost to touch her knees. Slowly, with repeated arm thrusts, she succeeded in pushing her jacket back off her shoulders. It took her a while. As the dancers twisted and turned, my eyes were on the old lady trying to take off her jacket.

Act Three

In the interval, the man standing next to me complained to the house manager that he could not see properly. Why could he not stand where he could see the whole stage? “I came to see the ballet,” he said. As it happens, the space he wanted to occupy was next to my line of vision. The house manager said he would make an exception. The man moved into the space on my left. I shuffled to the right. It was a kind of dance.

The comic ballet then began on the stage. The scene was a piano recital. The dancers played members of an audience hell bent on grabbing the seats with the best view. They sat in front of each other on purpose. Some were asked to move by the front of house staff when they were discovered sitting in the wrong seats. One woman, who had wrapped herself around the grand piano, had her seat pulled literally from beneath her.

It was funny, sad, and so true to life.


The End

Monday, 21 April 2014

Orphaned adverts and disconnects


The No 57 tram stopped here in Frederick Street, Edinburgh.

A friend once told me that one of my biggest strengths as a facilitator is my ability to make connections. I also have a tendency to notice disconnects.


Orphaned Adverts


I can’t help noticing out-of-date adverts on the underground. There are places on the London network where posters for shows that have closed linger on. At the foot of an escalator at Oxford Circus, a touring version of the “The Nutcracker” from a former republic of the Soviet Union, plays on. Did anyone go? Are some adverts doomed never to find an audience?

The British Linen Bank, 141 Princes Street, Edinburgh, 1920s


Banks that were cashed in


Also the crests and names above the doors of former banks, now amalgamated, and - final insult - turned into a Wetherspoons pub, or worse. The National Provincial Bank carved in stone in Piccadilly, London. The British Linen Bank in George Street, Edinburgh. Cheques are no longer accepted here.

Severed from the network


And railway stations severed from the network. The Caledonian Railway terminus on Princes Street Edinburgh, where Queen Elizabeth II and the King of Norway arrived in a train from Leith Central Station in 1962. Aged 9, I watched the royals go by from a window at the West End Branch of the British Linen Bank, now – wait for this – selling tartan souvenirs.

Leith Central Station in 1962


Left by the roadside

And tram stops. In Frederick Street, Edinburgh, a damaged but decorative tram stop from the original network survives at the edge of the kerb. People park their cars beside it. The No 57 tram stopped here. And, by the way, trams are back on Princes Street after 57 years. Why did I notice the tiles, and why does this one stop survive? It’s like the adverts in the underground. The meaning has gone out of its message.

Loss Aversion


Behavioural theorists say that we have a tendency to strongly prefer avoiding losses to acquiring gains. I get a lot of messages from the past. 'See this show!' 'Bank with us!' 'Catch a train!' 'Get on a tram!' It’s not exactly nostalgia. It’s more about noticing connections, and making meaning. My mum always said I was good at noticing things.


Thanks for reading my blog. If you liked this page, you might like to check out my business website which has more content on leadership and learning.

www.kellowlearning.com






























Tuesday, 10 December 2013

How to Survive Twelve Days of Networking: Tips for Reluctant Networkers





Now is the season of goodwill and networking opportunities

If your December diary is stuffed like a Christmas turkey, you have a choice to make. Either you can wrap tinsel round your ear, and get drunk with the crowd, or you can choose to network with purpose. I believe in the value of building, and looking after a strong professional network. Good networks are the gateway to opportunities to learn, grow and be happy. Need advice? Need a facilitator? Need a venue? You need a network.
When I talk about the importance of networking I hear the same objections.

I’m not good at networking

That is a cop-out. Everyone has charm, and everyone can network. To be honest, I am not always in the mood for networking, myself. Like the other night when a lady sat next to me at the theatre, and told me all about her interview with some magazine. “They loved me!” she said. Well, obviously, I was very happy for her, but that’s not networking. That’s broadcasting.

I don’t know what to say

You need to have an opening line. One of my friends swears by ‘I like your shoes’. I just say, ‘Where are you from?’ Then I relax, and listen. Don’t expect to make a good connection at every event. But when you do, make sure you drop them an email the next day. A follow-up email is the equivalent of a friendly wave and it means nothing. Don’t be pushy. At the same time, once you have their email, you can contact them again.

I don’t need to network

Yes, you do. In this hyper connected world everyone needs to be seen to network. For this reason you need an online presence, whether it is a LinkedIn profile, or some other site, so that people can check you exist. No-one exists today without an online profile.

What skills and knowledge are needed to be a good networker?

Good networkers have a genuine interest in other people, and are good listeners. Nelson Mandela knew how to make friends and influence people. One of the stories I read about him recently was how he won over some retired generals who were plotting a guerrilla war by making them all a nice cup of tea. Mandela won respect by giving it to others. Between now and Christmas, you can win over people by making sure they feel heard, and, possibly, making sure their glass is full of mulled wine.

Grey hair is no excuse for wearing a grey suit

Walking into a room full of men in grey suits still makes me uncomfortable, even though I am a grey haired man who sometimes wears a suit. Wear something that makes you stand out from the crowd, and look like you want to be in the room. Be decisive, go up to someone, and introduce yourself.

You have to work to make your network work for you

Here are some tips for how to engage and win people over:
  1. Step out of your comfort zone. Talk to strangers, and resist the temptation to talk to the people you know.
  2. Notice who is in the room and go and choose someone to interact with. People will not come and speak to you if you are standing hesitantly at the edge of the room.
  3. Turn off your phone and put it away. If you need to hold something, get a drink. Even better, grab a bottle of wine and start to circulate.
  4. Never make assumptions about the person standing next to you. You don’t know who they are, and you don’t know whom they know.
  5. Take a lesson from Stephen Covey and listen empathetically. Give the people you meet a large dose of unconditional positive regard. Encourage them to tell you about themselves.
  6. Then, and only then, you can reciprocate with a brief account of who you are, and what you do. Reciprocation, as Robert B Cialdini has taught us, is a weapon of influence.
  7. Remember to smile. Flirting is good provided the person to whom you are speaking is not wearing a wedding ring.
  8. Talk about what motivates or excites you. Passion and enthusiasm are infectious and engaging.
  9. Follow through. 48 hours is the maximum time you can wait to send an email saying how much you enjoyed meeting someone. Even if you didn’t.
  10. Keep your connections warm, if necessary using social networks like LinkedIn and Facebook. Tell people what you are doing, share relevant reports, and invite people to events.
  11. People who are good at networking are successful because they are curious, and curiosity is the driver of innovation and creativity. The better your network, the easier it becomes to get things done.
  12. Now is the season of office parties, talks and events. Put yourself about, go on the razzle. But network with purpose…
For more information about leadership and learning, please check out my new website www.kellowlearning.com





Saturday, 16 March 2013

Becoming a coach: me and Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme


I’ve got a permanent sugar rush of thoughts and feelings about coaching and training. I’m like Monsieur Jourdain in Moliere’s ‘Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme’, who discovered that, all his life, he had been speaking prose without knowing it.

Fifteen months ago, I started a serious executive coaching programme. Two days ago, I attended a final assessment day. Soon I will find out whether or not I have met the standard.

To get to the assessment day, I had to notch up one induction day, four residential training modules, four tutorials, dozens of practice coaching sessions, much reading of coaching texts and articles, four required learning logs, two unplanned blogs, and one theoretical essay. Having gone through all of that, it’s no wonder I am having a rush of thoughts and feelings about learning and coaching. 

What lies beneath my training approach
I’ve made a connection between Gestalt based coaching and my approach to delivering leadership training. Like Monsieur Jourdain, I have discovered that, all my life, I have been using Gestalt methodology to underpin my training courses, without knowing it. 

Instinctively, I design training programmes as participative learning journeys. I encourage learners to:


  • listen and observe
  • notice what they are thinking and feeling
  • gather and make sense of data
  • keep an open mind, and
  • work together to make sense of challenges and dilemmas.
From a Gestalt coaching perspective, this is about being and learning in the moment, and noticing patterns and connections. It’s about raising awareness of real needs, and mobilising energy towards appropriate action. 

I’m still processing what I have learned. I can’t wait to review my training practice through a Gestalt lens. Meanwhile, here is the 'before' and 'after' of my approach to coaching.



How I coached before the course

How I coach now

Took responsibility for solving the client’s dilemmas and problems

I work in partnership with the client
Analysed what the client was telling me

Observe, reflect, summarise

Tried very hard to be nice

Not afraid to challenge appropriately

Asked lots of unhelpful (dissonant) questions

Comfortable with silence

Talked about my experiences

Appropriately disclose if the client is interested in hearing about my experience


Believed I must have the answers

Not afraid to say ‘I don’t know what to do with this’

Pushed the client into action

Create space for the client to discover what they want to do

Made assumptions about what the client was telling me

Form working hypotheses AND keep an open mind

Thought ahead constantly which affected my ability to be present

Stay fully present with the client

Relied on listening and questioning

Invite the client to experiment Gestalt and Cognitive Behavioural methodologies

Felt awkward contracting and closing

Am more confident when contracting and helping client to identify what they have learned



It’s been quite a journey. I really must apologise to all my friends who volunteered to be coached by me, when I didn’t know what I know now.



16 March 2013

Thanks for reading my blog. If you liked this page, you might like to check out my business website which has more content on leadership and learning.

www.kellowlearning.com

Friday, 1 March 2013

Who was that person?



‘Who was that person?’

Who did you meet recently who made you feel glad to be alive? Who made you laugh out loud? Who shared something with you that made you want to do more / learn more? Perhaps they shared an experience, an insight, a book or a film, or even a dream they had last night? Like the lady in the cheese shop who told me that she had dreamt she was cutting cheese. In her dream she could feel the texture of the cheese as she was cutting. "That's unusual", she said.

‘I just met a wonderful girl / guy…’

I’ve been meeting a lot of new people, recently. I can’t help noticing there are some people I am really glad to have met. They leave a warm impression. I think about them next day, and the day after. I tell my friends about them.  And there are others, who, though I spent time with them, I just didn’t meet.

Block Button Blues

The people I didn’t meet are ‘the blockers’. There are at least two types of blockers: conscious and unconscious. The conscious blockers don’t ask, or tell, because they don't need to. They know everything. The unconscious blockers are not aware that they could ask, but they do like to tell. Conscious blockers have their block button permanently set to 'On'. Unconscious blockers talk ‘at me’ about themselves, until I can find an excuse to move on. I prefer not to use the block button, if I can possibly avoid it.

It’s all about connecting

The reason why I am thinking about good and bad conversations, is that I am learning to be an executive coach. One of the things I have learned is that coaches don’t need tools and techniques. The key to being an effective coach is to focus on what is happening in the space between the coach and the coachee. Coaches have to be fully present, and be willing to disclose their thoughts and feelings, provided they do this in the service of their clients' learning. It’s all about connecting.

Marvellous meetings

Some of my best conversations recently have been with complete strangers: a very cool Jamaican grandfather, who I met with his daughter, and granddaughters, in the queue for David Hockney at the Royal Academy; a funny, original Turkish businesswoman on a flight from Istanbul to London; a straight-talking Scottish fundraiser in Oxford who, like me, loves St Andrews in Scotland. There was a kind of energy and openness between us that made the time pass quickly.    

Memorable meetings

You can’t expect to connect with everyone you meet, I hear you say. And yet, one of my beliefs is that it is important to be curious about the people around you. You never know who they are, what they do, or who they know. You don’t know what opportunities there might be for something new and good to come out of conversation with this person. You might learn something. You might be able to help each other in some way. Or you might just spend a few very pleasant moments in a queue, on a plane, or a train. And days, or months, or years later, find yourself remembering.