Making a website: The 'Deep Dive'

This is the second of two blogs about making a website to celebrate the launch of KellowLearning.com. The first blog is called ‘I made a website www.kellowlearning.com'

It took me more than six months to write the copy for my website KellowLearning.com. I don’t regret the time I spent because the act of writing about leadership and learning helped me to find out what I think. I also found out what I remember from the past two decades of working as a trainer, what I have learned, what I have achieved, what I care about most deeply, and what gives me joy. Writing about what I do, day after day, was a ‘deep dive’ into who I am, and what I do. And the benefit of the ‘deep dive’ is that I was able to make a far better website than I could ever have imagined. And, what’s more, I now know what to say when people ask me ‘what do you do?’.

Here is what I discovered, and how it has helped me to communicate what I do.

I wrote to find out what I think. How do I define leadership? What are the game-defining factors affecting sustainability leaders today?

The Benefit: Clients need to know that I know what I am talking about.

I wrote to find out what I do. What is my approach to learning and change, and what is special about what I do?

The Benefit: Clients need to know what I do, and why I am the right person to work with them / their organisation.

I wrote to find out what I remember. What do I still remember from two decades of delivering programme and projects? Why have some people and events stuck in my memory, and not others?

The Benefit: Identifying my most powerful learning experiences has helped me to connect with what I do well as a trainer, and to remind myself how I can re-create transformational learning experiences for others.

I wrote to find out what I have learned. What are my key learnings from designing and delivering training for different groups of people living and working in different contexts?

The Benefit: I can clearly describe my approach to training, facilitation and coaching, the principles I follow, and what informs the choices I make in the interest of helping people to have the best possible learning experience.

I wrote to find out what I have achieved. Recalling the people and the projects that I have worked on since the early 1990s, I became aware that the whole looks greater than the sum of the parts.

The Benefit: I am quietly proud of my achievements, and this gives me the confidence to be comfortable with risk and uncertainty. 

I wrote to find out what I care about most deeply. What are the most precious moments and experiences that I have shared with the people I have met, and why?

The Benefit: Telling stories about what I do, and why I do it, helps me to communicate what it is like to work with me.

I wrote to find out what makes me joyful How do I focus on what makes me healthy, happy, creative, and inspired? How can anyone working in a helping or enabling role if they do not look after themselves?

The Benefit: Paying attention to my physical and mental health helps me to be at my best when working with others.

What is the point of funerals?

Church of Scotland, Colonsay

Is it to pay one’s respects to the deceased?

Perhaps. But surely the deceased would have preferred a visit from us before they died? Or maybe not?

Is there a health and safety issue?

Without a doubt. Bodies decay, and must be safely disposed of.

Why go to funerals?

To make sure that the person has actually died? If we didn’t go to funerals, could there be some lurking doubt that one’s partner / spouse / child / friend / relative / neighbour / co-worker had not died, and instead, had gone, without leaving an address, to Rome, or some other paradise with no wi-fi?

Is it to give thanks for a beautiful life?

Yes, partly. But how to behave when the officiant stumbles through a potted version of a life that doesn’t chime with what you remember? Keep silent? Maybe. I want to get up and say: “You haven’t mentioned…”, or, “Really?”, and even, “You can’t have known them very well, because if you had…”.

Are funerals cathartic?

It depends. Sharing memories about the person who has died can help to mitigate the pain. Connecting with people they knew, and loved, can be life-affirming. There is some truth, I think, in what a friend said to me, when I told her I was not looking forward to a particular funeral: “Don’t worry. You always meet someone nice and unexpected, at a funeral”. And, in fact, at the last funeral I attended, I did meet two unexpectedly nice families.

Why do older people go to funerals?

Why do we expect very elderly, bereaved people to walk, sit, and stand, when plainly, they need help? Why ask the physically frail to stand for the committal? Have we no compassion?

Why do younger people go to funerals?

Is it all “Carpe Diem”? Must we be confronted with the physical and mental frailty of loved ones, who once looked after us? Are funerals an automated reminder in the biggest cloud of all, that it will be our turn one day?