Sharing my personal mission statement

When I started working with Lynne, my coach, in 2005, I undertook to create an explicit statement of my values. It was not the first time I had explored what was important to me in my life, though it was the first time I had explored my values quite so fully and thoroughly. Every now and then I change a word here or there as I did recently. And still, I find that each change reinforces my original statement.

It was a couple of years later that a penny dropped for me as I realised that my values were pointing to an overall mission for my life. Capturing this mission in words has provided a clear guiding principle for me which is at once so simple and – for me, at least – profound. My mission is: to fall ever more deeply in love with my life.

What does this statement imply? As I write this morning I ponder this. The first thing that springs to mind is a quote of unknown origin, that “life is the sum of all our choices”. This mission guides me to make choices which bring me joy, and this in turn is a reminder that I do have choices. So, this is a statement which invites me to take responsibility for my life and to make it a life that I can, increasingly, enjoy.

This, in turn, implies for me that my life can be a matter of joy and that this is OK. I remember meeting a man who, after a successful corporate career, started to work for a not-for-profit organisation which was close to his heart. He was almost looking over his shoulder when he said to me that he wasn’t sure it was OK to enjoy himself as much as he was in his new career. I do wonder how much we come to believe that pain and suffering is our lot. For my part, I have chosen to embrace a different path and to create a life of joy and fulfilment.

To live in joy implies being connected to my own responses. For how can I know what brings me joy, if I am not able to sense my responses to my experiences? So, as I travel this path, I am becoming more and more attuned to my emotions and to the feedback my body gives me. I have found that this alone is not enough. For responding to such feedback requires skillful means. For this reason I have embraced learning as a core value. Attending to my responses and employing skillful means to choose my reactions help me to take steps on an ongoing basis towards I life I can truly love.

There is of course, one thing I have to be able to square in order to feel good about treading this path, living as I do in a world in which judgement (or ‘criticism’) is encouraged. Is it not utterly selfish to live in this way? As a student of nonviolent communication I have come to learn how much it matters to me to contribute to others and this is part of what gives me joy, especially when I can contribute from a place of willingness rather from a sense of obligation; especially when I give of the best of myself, rather than seek to muster a contribution which is somehow at odds with who I am and what I have to give.

There is so much more I can say. I am moved to add one last thing. This is about trends – about the overall trend in my life towards living in a way which brings me joy. To live my life in this way means that there is one thing I am able to offer to those who are seeking a different way of being in the world and doubting that it’s possible to be happy in this life. This is, of course, the conviction, borne of experience, that it is.

When it’s time to go public

Twenty-four hours after returning from Vicky Peirce’s NVC Barn (see www.cometolife.org) I notice I have come to a different place within myself. As I reconnect with my life and work I recognise that my time away has given me a space in which to connect more fully and deeply with who I am and with what matters to me.

It’s not that the connection was not there. Rather, my time at The Barn provided a space in which it could flourish and blossom. I come back with an awareness of my personal and professional yearnings. I come back present to my dreams and plans. I come back brimming with ideas. I come back aware of the extent to which I am already on track. I am full of celebrations.

Speaking with Lynne, my coach, as I do most weeks on a Monday afternoon, I have a thought which surprises me. It is one of those thoughts that has crept up behind me so that, by the time I am aware of its presence, it is fully formed and well and truly alive. It is beckoning me with great confidence even whilst some part of me is taking a while to catch up. It is the thought that it’s time to “go public” with some of my most sacred home truths. I think of my personal mission statement. I think of my personal values. I make a commitment to share my mission and values on my blog in the coming days.

And almost as soon as I make this commitment, I suddenly notice that I have a surge of energy as I think of those people – men and women – with whom I love to work in coaching partnership. Some pennies are dropping for me and it’s time to share my thoughts about this, too. Perhaps I have a busy week ahead!

And isn’t it curious that I am so alive – motivated, creative, in the flow – in the week of my birthday? This, too, I celebrate.

We come as we are

I am newly returned from The Barn, where I have been spending five days as one of a group of people who all have an interest in Nonviolent Communication (NVC). Vicky Peirce, our host, defines Nonviolent Communication in the following way on her website (at www.cometolife.org):

NVC (Nonviolent, Compassionate or Peaceful Communication) is a simple, yet profound and enjoyable process which teaches and encourages us to speak and listen to each other without blame, judgement, criticism or guilt. Over time, it can break patterns of thinking that cause pain and conflict for ourselves and others and open our hearts to mutual respect, acceptance and understanding.

To live in this way is not without challenges – not least the challenge of putting aside the ways of thinking in which we have been educated and amongst which we live in order to live from a place of acceptance and understanding. Five days at the Barn is an excellent opportunity to build this muscle of compassion – for ourselves, for others – and I come away with a deep sense of inner peace.

As I reflect, the thought that is uppermost within me is that, at any time, we come as we are. We do the best we know how in every moment and with whatever skills and resources we can muster. Of course, as Goleman has so clearly highlighted in his writings on emotional intelligence, we are vulnerable to what he calls the amygdala hijack – the moment when some comment or event triggers pain that is already within us and prompts an immediate and oftentimes ineffective response. NVC provides the tools to handle our own moments of pain as well as to meet others with compassion.

More than this, I notice that the more I am living from a place of compassion, the more I am able to meet my own needs at such moments. What’s more, the more my own needs are met – if you like, the more my own cup is full – the more I am able to bring love and compassion to my dealings with others. From this place, it matters not that others around me may bring blame and judgement, nor that they may lack skill or compassion. For I am able to be compassionate with myself and to be present to others – no matter what.

I am grateful for the experience I have had with its many, many gifts. I am grateful to Vicky for providing this space of learning, fun and nurture. I am grateful to my fellow group members for more acts of kindness than I can possibly list. I am restored – and ready for bed.

When Fish Fly

I am ‘in haste’ this afternoon. It’s not just that I’m away next week. In addition, I shall be leaving for Rugby in about half an hour, where I shall be leading two masterclasses in leadership tomorrow.

As I pack I listen to Kevin Gray reading When Fish Fly: Lessons for Creating a Vital and Energised Workplace. This is essentially John Yokoyama’s story of how he turned his failing Seattle fish stall into the World Famous Pike Place Fish Market. When Fish Fly is one of the resources I have recommended for the leaders with whom I shall be working tomorrow. With only ninety minutes per session, I am confident that participants are likely to go away with as many questions as answers and I want to provide some options for them for further exploration.

My listening helps me to engage ahead of time with the ground I want to cover. It is full of stories that inspire me. It reminds me of what it takes to lead one’s life from a place of choosing as much as it does of what it takes to lead and engage others. And of course, there are no surprises here – isn’t it true that leadership, like charity, begins at home?

In addition, participants have returned preparatory questionnaires and I am looking forward to reading them in the quiet seclusion of my hotel room this evening. This will help me to connect ahead of time with members of the group.

As I complete my posting I give thanks that I am able to earn my living in this way.

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.