All posts by Dorothy Nesbit

Saying farewell to March

Every now and then life gets a little laden with busy-ness. So today I sit down to write a few words, wondering even as I write what to write about.

I am in the midst of preparing trainings for a couple of clients and have had my head down. I shall be working with one client to provide training in aspects of leadership. I shall be working with another to offer training in the kinds of competency-based interviews I use when I assess candidates for senior leadership roles. I confess I am especially looking forward to delivering this latter training – it engages the ‘geek’ in me, who loves the technologies used to interview candidates and to analyse (or ‘code’) the interviews. And all this preparation alongside working with coaching clients – not to mention all the other activities involved in running a business.

Alongside this, I am just beginning to plan for my next newsletter and recognise that I need to get my skates on if I am to send it out in April as I plan. I am wondering whether to write about the kinds of ways we can use during the recession (and other challenging times) to stay on top of the world. I have yet to put pen to paper and still, my thoughts are brewing.

And outside, the evening is light and the trees are in blossom. I am enjoying the blossoming springtime as March gives way to April. Maybe I should say “as the birds are twittering away”, for I am aware that this posting brings me as close to “twittering” as I have come to date.

Working towards balance and contentment

Recently, I wrote about “Life” and “Executive” coaching on my blog.

I was reminded of this posting following a coaching session I held with someone I used to work with – a former colleague whom I rarely see and treasure nonetheless. This was a kind of whole life “health check”, taking an overview of her current personal and professional life and exploring what is working for her at present and what could be working better. Afterwards she wrote to me:

“I feel very honoured that you gave me your time so that I could start to work towards a better balance and contentment in my life. I feel more strongly now that it is a realistic ambition and one that I deserve”.

No matter what the context for my work as a coach, I always take time with clients to look at the overall picture of their life at the start of coaching. To do this is to take stock – to notice what’s working and to identify areas where progress could make a difference. This seems to be of equal value whether clients are senior executives or individuals seeking to create the life they dream of. Equally, this seems to support clients whether they are starting out as coaching clients, in the midst of coaching or simply (as was true this time) taking a one-off opportunity to take stock.

I take a moment to reflect on the question of “Life” and “Executive” coaching. With more than twenty years’ experience of helping senior leaders to develop the skills and competencies they need I am, first and foremost, an Executive Coach. Nonetheless, my clients are, first and foremost, real people who want to lead lives that are satisfying and rewarding. I am grateful to my friend and former colleague for this reminder.

In memoriam

Today I sang at the memorial service of Richard Hickox, who was Music Director of the London Symphony Chorus when I joined in 1986 and who died in November last year. It was a beautiful service which is probably still echoing around St. Paul’s Cathedral as I write.

And though I have the opportunity to write about this service, I notice that – at least for now – my need is to be still and present to all the emotions that are with me at this time. Sometimes, it’s important to be truly present to the experience rather than to ‘observe’ it through the act of writing.

As one of my former LSC colleagues said to me after the service “I’m all mashed up and turned inside out”.

Speaking generally

Taking a walk at lunchtime, I find myself reflecting on two messages which have landed in my in-tray during the course of the day. One message asks how I am faring at this unquestionably terrible time. Another points me to the opportunities that are open to us all at this time of recession. One thing is clear: whichever way you look at it, the generalisation is alive and well.

I am reminded of the body of work which has become known as Neuro-linguistic Programming or NLP. My first glimpse in the direction of NLP – though I didn’t know it at the time – came in 1983 when I took a paper in linguistics as part of my degree and grappled with the theories of Noam Chomsky. Dr John Grinder was also a student of Chomsky’s work, studying Chomsky’s theories of transformational grammar in the early 1970s. This was about the time he was approached by under-graduate student Richard Bandler who asked Grinder to join him in modelling the various cognitive behavioral patterns of three leading therapists in the field of Gestalt. Eventually, this work became the basis of the methodology that became the foundation of Neuro-linguistic Programming.

Bandler and Grinder created something they called the Meta-Model to examine the way we structure language to describe our model of the world. Historically, the Meta-Model provided the first publicly available NLP interventions and Richard Bandler described the Meta-Model as “the engine that drives NLP”. Bandler and Grinder proposed three primary processes by we translate experience into language: deletion, generalisation and distortion. If Bandler and Grinder are correct, the process of noticing patterns in our experience and forming generalisations provides the basis for forming a set of rules or principles by which we go on to operate. These rules help us to simplify our understanding and to make predictions. They also guide our choices and behaviours.

So much for the (brief) history lesson. Of what interest is this model during our current times? It seems to me that to view the current economic climate as one of unremitting gloom is to invite outcomes which may not serve us. Our mood may quickly come to reflect our belief and this may be an unpleasant experience in its own right. What’s more, by forming the view that we are all in the same (terrible) boat we may miss out on a variety of opportunities – to take positive action, for example, or to connect with the people around us.

A generalisation which creates a world of opportunity may also have its drawbacks. How can we be sensitive, for example, to those people whose livelihoods are in danger (or who, at least, fear their livelihoods are in danger) when all we can see is a world of opportunity? And if opportunities are everywhere, how can we begin to tease out and discern the real opportunities that face us and our businesses? Perhaps the key here is to recognise that, whether or not we choose to generalise, and whether we choose to generalise a gloomy or a positive world, we do choose.

I think of my work as a coach which helps the people – often leaders – with whom I work to become aware of the choices they are making and to make choices which serve their aims and intentions. It seems to me that the work of helping clients consciously to choose has its time in the “hard times” every bit as much as in the “good times”. And of course, as a coach, I recognise my own responsibility to monitor my own choices at this time. It seems to me that, no matter what, nobody wants to work with a coach who feels defeated by current events.

Freecycling into my local community

Months after Sarah Illingworth first mentoned to me, in passing, something she called Freecycle, I took a moment this morning to investigate.

Freecycle is a global recycling project, which aims to provide the means for people to find new homes for objects which are still useful – but not to them. Of course, it also provides objects to people to whom they are useful. As its name suggests, the primary rule is that the objects are available for free.

I take just a few minutes to sign up and, using the format provided to create clear postings, to make six ‘offers’ – from some rather neglected houseplants to the video player which still works and which I no longer use. I don’t know if these objects will find homes, though I do hope they will.

It’s amazing what we get from belonging to communities of various kinds. Sarah’s passing comment came to me as we enjoyed our shared community: the London Symphony Chorus. As I write, I wonder what new relationship I will develop with the community in which I live as a result of joining Freecycle.

Talking about ecology

Increasingly, I am struck by the places where my own interests and those of my niece meet. As an ecologist, currently writing up her PhD thesis, Rebecca is constantly alert to the implications of human choices for the wider ecology of our planet. As an executive coach, it’s my view that the choices we make reflect varying levels of awareness of the needs we are actually seeking to meet by our actions. The more we choose from a place of self awareness and honesty, the more likely we are to make choices that are ecologically sound.

In the realm of human choice I use the word ‘ecological’ with a particular meaning. We have an inner ecology as well as living in a wider ecological setting. In the field of neuro-linguistic programming (or NLP) practitioners talk of the ‘ecology check’. This is a process by which we check in with ourselves before confirming a decision, a process which recognises that what seems logical or in some way ‘correct’ may still leave us feeling uncomfortable. We are ready to make a decision when our minds, hearts and guts are all telling us, ‘yes, this is the right decision’.

This sounds easy though there are many factors that affect our decision-making processes. I could point to external factors – how do we decide with confidence when we have to decide in haste and with inadequate information? Sometimes, external circumstances do not conspire in our favour. Perhaps, though, we need to pay more attention to ourselves. For whilst there are times when we find ourselves in circumstances we cannot change, we can develop the capability to be aware of our needs, to accept them, and to make decisions that support us in meeting our needs.

I am particularly aware of this in our current business and economic context, for it seems to me that – at many levels – the question ‘What do I want?’ often goes unasked. The individual executive may continue to spend beyond his or her means even whilst becoming more wealthy with each successive promotion – and still feel hollow inside. It’s as if the actions taken are ‘the wrong tool for the job’. They don’t meet the needs of the executive concerned precisely because he or she does not know what needs s/he’s trying to meet. And when organisations are comprised of individuals who lack this self awareness or have a culture which discourages this self awareness, is it any surprise that they pursue business goals whilst failing to ask what outcomes these business goals serve?

How does this link to the wider ecology of our planet? Perhaps the first and easiest thing to say is that the more we make choices (individual, organisational) from a place of awareness of our needs, the more likely we are to make choices that serve the wider planet, not least because we all have a need to contribute to others and to the world around us. I would add that nature has a way of providing feedback which is always available to direct us – if only we are alert to its messages. In the current recession I wonder if we are willing to dig deep and understand the messages that are on offer to us and I suspect not. With or without the current recession, I wonder how serious we are about creating an economy which not only serves us, but also serves our children, our grandchildren and beyond.

This is a question raised by The Corporation (available as a book and as a DVD). When I first watched the DVD, courtesy of my friend Mark, I found its messages so hard-hitting that I put it to one side in pain. This weekend I felt ready to view it again. This time, in the midst of so many messages about the damage corporations wreak (on those who work for them, on the environment, on… on… on…) I was drawn to one of the central voices of hope, Ray Anderson, CEO of Interface. Anderson describes reading a book, Paul Hawken’s The Ecology of Commerce, as an epiphanal experience. After reading this book, Anderson set out to reshape Interface completely. The company now has a vision: ‘To be the first company that, by its deeds, shows the entire industrial world what sustainability is in all its dimensions: People, process, product, place and profits — by 2020 — and in doing so we will become restorative through the power of influence’. You can hear Anderson speak on YouTube, at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RcRDUIbT4gw.

As I write what has become my longest posting yet, I feel the passion that draws me to this subject and I recognise how many ideas I have put forward that are subjects in themselves, waiting to be explored. At its heart, this posting is about ecology – the idea that we are all part of a systemic whole. Should the worse case scenario of planetary destruction take place, it won’t be for lack of feedback from our eco-system. The fact that coaching can support individuals in listening to those messages – from without, from within – is one of the things that gives me hope.

Where ‘life’ and ‘executive’ coaching meet

Since I started to place coaching at the centre of my business I have learnt that, when I say I am a coach, people will often ask: “Are you a Life Coach?” I have also learnt that, for some people at least, the term ‘Life Coach’ carries less-than-positive connotations. So, having fielded this question once again, I decide to pick at it a little here on my blog – and maybe not for the last time.

Of course, the question implies that there are differences between ‘Life’ and other forms of coaching. And since I call myself an Executive Coach I wonder how to differentiate between the two. Perhaps the most obvious thing to say is that Executive Coaching is for Executives and has as its point of departure questions relating to the Executive and his or her work. Most of my clients come to me because of my reputation for working with senior leaders in organisations, hence “Executive Coach”. Life Coaching, by contrast, is for anyone and has as its point of departure wider questions pertaining to the individual’s life as a whole.

What does this mean in practice? Perhaps it’s worth saying that Life Coaching will often embrace questions of work whilst Executive Coaching will often embrace the wider questions of life. This can happen both in a personal and in a wider sense. Beginning with a personal example, it’s often true that when an Executive faces up to a new challenge or sets out to learn something which will support his or her career progress, the same challenge or learning need is likely to show up in all sorts of areas. Perhaps the leader who finds it difficult to place limits on the freedoms afforded to staff will also have difficulty saying ‘no’ to his or her children. Or maybe the Executive who decides to address problems in his or her marriage finds over time a renewed passion for work as things get better at home. It’s always been my experience as a coach that the questions we ask ourselves about our work have resonance elsewhere in our lives.

And in case we think that work is something separate from life, it may be worth asking ourselves what our current global economic and political situation is here to teach us. As Prime Minister Gordon Brown’s government today investigates the role U.K. bank directors have played in creating our current economic situation it seems to me that one question is waiting to be asked: how do we want our business and organisations to contribute to our lives? Maybe we would also do well to ask whether our goal is to create businesses and organisations which serve us in creating lives worth living or whether our goal is to devote our lives in service of our businesses and organisations.

And as I write I recognise that this posting opens up a subject whilst leaving many questions unanswered. What, for example, distinguishes the ‘Executive’ from the ‘Life’ Coach? Why does the term ‘Life Coaching’ have less-than-positive connotations for some? And does that imply that Executive Coaching is in any way superior?

And since these and other questions are going to wait for another day I invite you to add your questions to this list via the comments link below. I’d love to answer them – in good time.

When feedback delights

Feedback, with its power to nourish or to test, is a wonderful thing. Sometimes, it just takes you by joyful surprise.

Yesterday, at my regular rehearsal with the London Symphony Chorus, I was blessed with a double whammy of the nourishing variety. Midway through our first rehearsal of Berlioz’ Te Deum, Lorne leant over from the tenors to tell me how fabulous my singing was. Did I lap that feedback up? You bet I did! (And was I aware that, for some reason, I was singing from the very depths of my heart and soul? Yes, that, too).

I was also delighted when Elizabeth, talking to me about wrinkles and face-creams, guessed my age at anywhere between 35 and 41. Let me tell you I love my wrinkles! I wouldn’t lose a single one of them! And still, as I approach my 46th birthday, I’m quite content to know that I look (to some eyes, at least) a little younger than I am.

This is not the first time of late that I have enjoyed a comment about my age. Only a week ago a colleague of my niece asked me if we are sisters. I told him no and thanked him for his comment. This took him aback I think – it was not intended as a compliment, he said. He was quite sincere. I only regret I didn’t think to say that yes, it was precisely because I knew his question was sincere that I enjoyed it so much.

Mr Fox’s new home

Yesterday, the snow fell all day in London, with a variety of – predictable and less predictable – effects. Travel was difficult. I had a meeting by phone that we’d planned to have face to face. Many of my local shops were closed. Londoners, who normally avoid eye contact with strangers, were cheery in sharing their comments about the snow. And of course, Radio 4 featured the inevitable discussion this morning about the extent to which roads were cleared and whether or not we should invest more in order to be equipped for events that happen so rarely.

This morning the snow is still deep and there were warnings on radio and television to expect roads to be more dangerous than yesterday as a result of the ice. The sun is shining, adding to the beauty of the snowy London scenes whilst also causing snow to fall from trees and rooftops.

Today, the snow has also given me the answer to a question I have been asking myself since I first noticed Mr Fox showing an interest in the compost heap at the bottom of my garden. It happened that I noticed him take a look at this spot and begin to dig underneath the mottly heap of vegetable peelings. I have looked at the hole without being able to see if he actually moved in. Yesterday I looked for signs in the snow. There were none.

This morning, though, I woke to the clear signs that an animal – I think a fox – had left the hole to wander round the garden, lingering around the bushes and maybe even wandering into the neighbours garden. I wonder if (hope that) I will get to enjoy the beautiful sight of a fox walking through the snow.

Nighttime musings

Every now and then, when something is on my mind, I wake in the middle of the night. Tonight is one of those nights. I have learnt to get up and make myself a hot drink, to read for a while before returning, easily, to sleep.

Tonight I decide to write a few lines on my blog. I am aware that I wrote less often in January than I aim to. I began the month by resting as much as I could to support my body in recovering from a lingering winter bug and then entered a busy couple of weeks.

Waking in the middle of the night I look out on the nighttime beauty of the snow that started to fall in the early evening and is now several inches deep. The light has a quality all of its own as all light reflects from the bright untrodden snow. I enjoy this winter scene.

And before returning to sleep, I take a moment to celebrate my brother, Alan, who is fifty today and my mother, who gave birth fifty years ago to her first child.