Are you moving in the right direction?
As you look back and see where you have come from, how happy are you with the progress you are making?
A few weeks ago I had a minor rant about flying and how I dealt with the experience and my attendant emotions. Last week I wrote about being stood up for a meeting and talked about assuming positive intent.
Then last weekend I flew with the same carrier as previously. I was pleasantly surprised by the experience on my way south. Maybe it was partly because the changes I had experienced the first time around were no longer novel and I had moved into a place of expectancy. How often is it simply the newness of a change that is our issue and not the actual alteration - maybe there is learning in that for us.
However, I flew back through Terminal 5 at Heathrow and was afforded the luxury of a full 20 minutes of security seriousness. Sunday evening flying meant no queues. Once we were through the first boarding card check (why do there need to be three before you board?) we could immediately see the light at the end of the security tunnel. As a good rule-abiding flyer, I emptied my bag of electronics like my laptop and Kindle, I removed my boots unasked, I placed my coat, coins and keys in the tray and sent it all through the scanner. Exactly as I had done on the journey down. Exactly as I have done on countless trips before. The outward journey was the more important though, since the content of my trays was identical to two days previously. Therefore it was easy to assume the process would be equally painless. As the saying goes though, I made an ass out of me, if not someone else.
Thankfully we weren't in a hurry. My boots arrived, as did my coat and other accoutrements but my bag remained mired in the midst of the scanner with a the operative peering intently at his screen. He shuffled the belt forwards and looked again. He shuffled it backwards. He repeated the process. Then he approached to ask some questions.
What other electronics did I have in my bag? Despite having packed it a few hours previously I struggled to think of any offending item that I might have neglected to remove. A power lead and a phone was all I could recall.
Did my phone have a case? Well, yes, I work outdoors so it helps to protect it.
Is it a thick case? At this point I was starting to gently bubble with frustration. I've had the phone for more than twelve months and bought the case at the same time. I've flown frequently with it without a problem. My biggest issue though was that I didn't know how to answer. I'm the kind of guy that likes facts; right and wrong are important concepts to me. Given information must be true and trustworthy. I'm not a phone expert though and I've only owned one case for this current model so I had no reference point for 'thick'. I said 'no'. Maybe that was my mistake.
The operative walked away. Not back to his computer screen, but out of the area and off down the hallway. I was left wondering if it was a toilet stop or coffee break. My wife stepped in at this stage to ease me down from a boil to a simmer.
Eventually the gentleman returned from his excursion with a suit in tow. I lost track of the other questions he asked, but maybe I randomly gave the right answers because the second officer walked away. This time the belt moved and my bag popped out. Sadly it went down the conveyor at the back of the glass to be inspected further.
The people whose luggage was being inspected at that point had been there a while - it transpired that the pre-purchase of perfume had been a quantitative error and they were trying to post it home. Then there was the perfunctory check of someone else's case and my bag was at the front of the queue.
Cue shift change. Rolling boil followed by spousal gagging order.
Eventually a wand was waved and I was asked to produce the offending item to wow and surprise. Or bore and disappoint - impassive features gave away no shred of emotion. Or satisfaction it would seem, since I then had to virtually empty the bottom of my rucksack. Top travelling tip: rucksacks are great for walking a distance through vast aircraft hangars, less appropriate for easy emptying and repacking in the hurry-up presence of officialdom.
Thankfully for all concerned, I was stopped with the dirty underwear only halfway to public viewing and allowed to repack. No memorable apology on their part. Not much positive intent assumed on mine.
I understand people's need for security. But I want predictability and process so that I can continue to refine my passage through airports and become more efficient with the things I can control. Maybe instead I need to learn to accept the things I cannot change.
Time to revisit Reinhold Niebuhr's serenity prayer.
I was supposed to have a meeting yesterday but it didn't happen. I neglected to check that it was still on, and the person I was meeting neglected to show up. I reacted, but unlike my BA angriness (airline not Baracus, see previous blogpost), I was simply a little sad. I was aware that I could have done something to prevent my Billy-no-mates appearance at the venue if I had sent one short text the day before, so the situation was simply unfortunate and partly of my own making.
However, a couple of other factors came into play that I thought were worth referencing in terms of how teams of individuals operate well collectively:
Apologise - my partner in slight badness was profusely sorry and expressed that on more than one occasion, even offering to buy me lunch when we do finally get together. It's amazing how quickly that can mollify even the most angry of people (although I need a more objective viewpoint to know if I fall within that bracket). When you have had a long wait, listening to telephone-music or standing in a queue, a simple 'sorry' can work wonders - I notice my local Asda is very good at instilling this idea in staff. If something gets broken or a job fails, apologising can soften the blow. Obviously if we spend our lives constantly apologising, people question our credibility and if we needlessly apologise for things that are in now way within our remit or control then conversely it starts to wind me up again. But those five letters normally soothe me like a baby's dummy.
Assume Positive Intent - did he intend to stand me up? Not at all. In fact, that thought never crossed my mind until I started to ponder writing about it. I don't know him well, but what I do know is that he comes across as a man of integrity, professional and to be trusted. Since I know that about him, I can assume other things, one of which is that he does not work with the worst intentions; completely the opposite. Furthermore, because I believe this, I will be quicker to forgive any slight failings and assume he didn't mean it, that he is still a good man.
How often though do we jump to negative conclusions about people we work with, distrust them, assume that they mean it for ill, whatever perceived transgression 'it' currently is? Looking at the consequences beyond that leap as well, what impact does this 'deliberate failing' have on my perception of someone - of course, it enhances my assertion that they are a bad person. In fact, one result is often that I start to look for other errors to justify my current view that they my colleague is in league with Lucifer. Forgive and forget is a wonderful, if tricky, policy and certainly paves the way for improved future team working.
Assess yourself - How good are your team, whether it is your marriage or partnership, your sports club or your work colleagues? Maybe you are not the person to change their behaviour (although I know a man who can help), but you can change your own. How good are you at noticing that an apology is required; and would your Primary 1 teacher be happy that you were saying it like you meant it? What are you assuming about these people and their intentions? Yes, on you go, justify why you don't like them and list their recent sins if you want. Or stop. Notice their strengths, how they complement what you are capable of, how the job would actually really be harder without them. Celebrate the good, don't wallow in the bad.
On Saturday, two incidents made me stop and take note of my feelings and how appropriately I was dealing with them. I am normally a great exponent of looking for, and celebrating, the good bits of life, however infrequently they might present themselves, and revel in the joy that they engender. On this occasion though I have a couple of peeves that I don't feel obliged to share, but want to talk about the learning from them
Having joined one queue at passport control I quickly realised, as someone else moved, that there was a much swifter neighbouring line which I proceeded to join, along with a dozen other eager fellow-travellers. Two people later and I was at the yellow waiting line, giving the Romanian guy adequate space and privacy, patiently and politely as one is supposed to. 10 minutes later all our respective positions had altered not one iota. The balding gent with the big nose and Polizei epaulettes was still ensconced in his perspex castle whilst the non-natives started to get restless. Others behind me jumped ship returning to the previously slower queue but I stayed, rooted to my frontline position.
I got angry. Inwardly I was yelling that this was wrong. Yet, being powerless to change the situation, I obligingly remained, stationary. Anger was the wrong response.
I could have departed my encampment to follow the deserting rats filtering off to other queues. Upon this realisation, I felt a degree of shame that I had made a mistake, something I am often unwisely keen to avoid. It allowed a degree of self-reflection and brought an atmosphere of inward calm - I was in no hurry to get through security, my plane didn't leave for a couple of hours (yes, we were trying to leave a country that I had entered when my friend flashed both of his own ID cards at the border police as we sped through the motorway checkpoint). This made for an interesting counterpoint with the chapter of Matthew Syed's Black Box Thinking I had started to read at the outset of the line-up, all about cognitive dissonance and not changing your thinking because that would require an admission of error.
Ultimately though, after momentary self-reflection, I decided I was happy enough to stay put and simply feel a slight sadness that this unfortunate event had befallen me. This served me well a few minutes beyond the passport police when, having obligingly gone through all the undressing rigmarole that is security screening, I was still made to sit on a stool and be dusted for dangerous chemicals or stray sherbet - no forthcoming explanations allows greater creativity of thought. I did wonder though about the allegedly random nature of an event that happens far more often when I play the unshaven, scruffy, single male traveller rol
And thence to the flight itself and my second dawn of realisation. With the midday sun flooding the cabin the catering trolley hove into view, supplying us with a cornucopia of products from a company that may rhyme with Dark Sand Fencers. The cart was being propelled towards me by an employee of my (currently, at least) national airline with whom I undoubtedly shared a common mother tongue. He could have remained nameless, but BA-badged Paul asked what I would like. My request for a beef sandwich and a coffee passed the filters unscathed and a nod of acquiesance issued. However, my addition of a brownie foxed him somewhat. Maybe he couldn't bypass my thick accent to reach the understandable words behind. Possibly his hearing was impaired by the normal levels of engine noise and gentle murmur of conversation. I tried again but sadly my desire for a different result from the same action was as idiotic as always. I had a sudden image of the recent video of two Scots in a voice-activated life and was desperate to try asking for floor eleven. Eventually I resorted to snatching the in-flight food and drink menu from the slot, exasperatedly flicked to the page and stabbed my finger at the required picture. I heard some mildly feeble excuse about no-one having requested one of those before, then a departure to find the aforemangled cakelike snack. I got a little bit angry.
The Mobile Food Dispensing Operative returned to my side to helpfully inform me that there were none left, so I simply downsized my request to the sandwich and coffee. I was a little bit angrier.
I was then required to pay, the somewhat gold-plated, £7.05, obviously including an airline-food-increase that seems de rigeur, regardless of which emporium supplies it. I was concerned that proffering a £20 might lead to some adverse comment, requiring as much change as it would; although, as always, hopeful that I might rob them of the 5p if they had insufficient coinage.
But I was wrong, and getting angrier. They don't accept cash. Of any denomination or currency. No pounds sterling, no euros, no roubles or zloty.
Not very happy, and more than a little bit annoyed, I was actually needing to simply be sad. Yes, I could argue that BA's monetary policy was wrong but I was, once again, powerless to change it. To feel sad and recognise it as an unfortunate incident gave me greater opportunity to accept the situation, put away my wallet and accept that I wouldn't be eating expensive food that I could easily live without.
Whilst I know I need to read and think more on the topic of feelings and emotions, and how using their power can enhance my life and reduce my stress, Vivian Dittmar's book 'The Power of Feelings' has been a useful step on this particular journey of discovery.
On the plus side, it was gorgeously sunny when I landed early at Heathrow and this rightness brought me a degree of joy.
Back in September I sent out a newsletter with an article on post-brexit type fears about upcoming change. Today will see the culmination of some people's worst nightmares as Mr Trump becomes POTUS. On Sunday past, I was preaching about fear and how we approach it.
It's not wrong to be scared, so allow and acknowledge the feelings. But how we deal with it can say some interesting things about us and our society. Some folks will be camped out with banners to express their thoughts on the new president in contrast to all the devoted flag wavers. Equal numbers will follow his example and express their commendations and concerns via Twitter or other social mouthpieces.
What do their actions achieve though? Does it make them feel better - probably not, more likely it will cement their fears more solidly. Does it wind up others - yes, it surely does and provokes a war of words that accomplishes little.
I'm not saying don't ever express opposition to politicians because they all need to hear the alternative views from the poor and powerless. Consider instead how to express your thoughts. And if you have the time and inclination to go deeper then think about Thomas Merton's words that I quoted back in 2015.
Yes, I know you are capable of looking out of the window too and can verify my title, but I'm less into weather forecasting and more consequence consideration.
As I drove out to Lennoxtown last night I must have a hit a patch of blizzardy nastiness and started to think what the conditions would be like later that night as I drove home, and also this morning for folks going to work. In the end, it's not turned into anything dreadful, but the weather recently has been enough for me to think twice about being outside occasionally.
For outdoor coaching in the west of Scotland, the weather is definitely a factor, but doesn't have to stop us. It can be tricky having a conversation when the wind whips your words away, but if your clothing is adequate then rain, hail and snow needn't stop us making progress. If you're not properly dressed though, I know well how the cold or wet makes things less fun and focus is deflected from the issues under discussion. So, even if it goes against the grain of a Glasgow upbringing, wear a coat!
Talking to a friend last night we were agreeing that a surprisingly good day in the winter is a great joy. We can be put off by impending wet doom or go out and avoid the chance of missing out, not just on the possibility of the cloud breaking and the sun pouring through, but all the other benefits that I list in this article.
Just think what you could gain from an outdoor walk, with coaching involved as well, even on a day like today. If you fancy a trip out then get in touch and we can chat through the possibilities.
People have verbally asked, "So what did you do?" and I'm still struggling to formulate an acceptable answer: an answer that I can accept because it accurately portrays my visit will be too wordy and one that you can accept because you can grasp it will be too convoluted and require pre-explanations.
I, naively, thought I was going on a standard summer-church-trip-to-the-Third-world, to engage in worthy and practical activities, like building houses or running youth events, both of which I am reasonably prerequisitely skilled. I didn't really.
Anyway, as part of me having to process the experience and feedback to donors, I have written a list of lots of things I never did.
I thought we would build houses; our church has been funding this for years and we expected to help practically. We didn't. However we did get involved in the dedication of the most recent houses, formally handing them over to the first proud occupants, gifting typically Scottish items and praying over them.
Our programme said we would also get involved in repairing some of the houses that have become ravaged by weather and time. We didn't. Although we did carry bags of sand from one end of a village 300m to the other, to the house of a man who was about to start rebuilding. Not big bags but heavy enough to make it tiring in the heat. It did however give us practise at carrying stuff on our heads; I even managed no hands. Once. Then it got too tiring on my neck.
However, I was taken to make mud bricks to build some new houses. But I didn't touch a morsel of mud all day. Instead I was deputed to donkey the water up the hill from the locked pump. Tiring.
There were big ideas of doing youthwork, playing organised games and running precise craft activities. We did turn up for these activities but none of them ran in a neat and structured way as I prefer. Instead, we vaguely oversaw joyful chaos, talked in halting English and shared stories.
We carted case loads of medical supplies from Scotland which I thought we were distributing. We kind of did, but to people in the Congo, not Rwanda - that was a side-trip that I had no visa for, so I didn't get involved.
There were baby clothes donated which we took to Kigali to give to new mothers. I didn't do that either, more from an awkwardness at being one of very few men hanging around on the fringes of a very female-focussed event.
We were also promised long hours of sitting listening to speeches, from dignatories, preachers, mothers, survivors, widows, friends, community workers. We did that! In a pineapple field, on a hillside, at someone's home, in newly-built houses, in church, in a kids' home. Much listening with occasional inputs. But on every occasion it was inspiring. So many different stories of surviving the genocide, of forgiving the perpetrators and moving on together, of hope for the future.
And we were told to expect to meet lots of Rwandese and hug them three times. Left right left or RLR, I never quite worked out which was correct, but I got away with only a few awkward face-on-face moments. But we certainly did this. In fact Ben, one of the Rwandese guys organising us, said that often this is the biggest impact we can have, just meeting and hugging and listening. When you hear the history of how the western world walked away in 1994, leaving them to be slaughtered (read the details of history if you think I exaggerate), it's no surprise that a group of Europeans returning is a point of note. Particularly, the fact that there a large group of us and that many in my group were on their 2nd or 3rd visit, a message was apparently being received that they were no longer abandoned.
I don't know what lasting benefit there will be from our visit in Rwanda, if any. But I'm trusting that Ben was right that just being there and showing we care was enough to make an impact for individuals. Certainly it's the people that I will remember. Patricia, Mathilde, Gershom, David, Ben, Clement, the girl supervising me drawing water, the toothless smiley old lady in the red woolly hat, the mayor shovelling sand into my bag, Claude driving the rickety bus, the unnamed ex-perpetrator who has been accepted by his ex-victims. I took no photos but their faces are burned into my memory. What they said, what they did, how they made me feel; that's where the lifelong impact remains.
I've just come back from a trip to Rwanda and am now processing some of what I have seen, heard and done, and the strongest memory tells me the Beatles were wrong. I know that this is sacrilege for some of you (even though they had hits before your mothers were born) but let me describe what I saw.
I was taken to Nyamata church. It's a genocide memorial, no longer a place of worship. People came there seeking shelter from the killers in April 1994. The tactic had worked during previous killing sprees. It didn't this time. The soldiers threw in grenades and then killed the survivors with machetes and other implements. 10,000 people died.
They've left the place as it was. There are shrapnel holes in the ceiling, bullet holes in walls, even a chip on the statue of Caucasian Mary's shoulder - she was shot because her long nose implied she was a Tutsi. The clothes of the dead line the benches where they would have been sitting.
It's not a sanitised memorial with long historical narrative, paeans to the dead and condemnations of the killers. It is simple, stark and sombre. And very, very real.
For me the final straw was the wooden praying cross placed in abandonment on the altar. I've got one at home, a personal family memory, which made it all the more poignant. And real. Real people, really cut down in their prime.
And having started just seeing the holes in the roof that weren't fixed (not that it was raining much in Rwanda when I was there), my mind then wandered all over the place. And I realised that it does matter if we're wrong or right; all people need to be able to simply belong. Edmund Burke was right when he said that all it takes for evil to triumph is for a good man to do nothing.
The stories I heard from survivors were powerful but the image that will stay with me and impact my future is the little wooden cross that will keep my mind wandering in useful directions. And I'll never listen to Sgt Pepper's LHCB in the same way again.
In the last few years I have sponsored a number of young people doing foreign trips in their summer holidays to places like Malawi and Romania. Read some more details here.
Whilst these trips always have an altruistic aim of helping the visited communities, I firmly believe that the main benefits are bestowed on the visitors. The young people gain all sorts, in terms of new skills and experiences but also through expanding their comfort zones. Often the most valuable, at least in terms of the kind of work that I do, is that they come to know themselves better; they know what they are capable of, prove their skills in a new arena, and understand more about how they interact with a wide variety of the world's people.
This year I am not planning to sponsor anyone except myself. Having heard the stories and suffered experiencing the excitements and learning second hand, I am using my money this year to join others from my church on a trip to Rwanda on Saturday.
What am I going to do?
Good question really and I'm not entirely sure what the answer is. I'm reasonably sure that we'll do some housebuilding stuff - it's a project we have been involved in raising money for over several years. It's also clear that there will be some youth work in the mix too. Beyond that, it's a little murky and the itinerary is still in flux.
What will the challenges be?
There's not just the 9 folks from my own church but another 17 from a couple of other places. Getting a team that big to work effectively when we barely know each other, and are quite diverse people, will not come easily. Being one of the most junior team members in terms of specifically Rwanda experience will not sit easily with me either.
What will I learn?
I don' think I can answer that fully either. I'm a big believer that when it comes to experience, we can expect or engineer some lessons but there will always be others that pop out unexpectedly. Already though I have been learning about being patient with different timescales and ways of doing business and I expect that to continue in a cross cultural way. On top of that, my knowledge of recent Rwandan history will definitely be augmented. I'm also hoping to see how Amy Edmondson's ideas on teaming translate to a non-western environment and non-business context.
Now that I'm fully focussed on the trip I'm starting to get excited. It will be challenging but definitely fun. I'll let you know how I get on and what the learning is to come from it, and there will hopefully be pictures to illuminate the stories too.
Today I discovered a large office building in London practicing something I have realised is anathema to me.
Something that I have learned about myself this year is that I like consistency and I really, strongly dislike inconsistency. It annoys me in people, organisations and in processes. This has made me re-examine myself though to work out where there inconsistencies endemic in my thinking and actions. I suppose it also closely relates to authenticity which is something I have been teaching and coaching for ages.
With that in the back of your mind then, picture me on a course in London. I have come here to become a Certified Scrum Master, part of the growth for this year that I was talking about in the most recent newsletter (read it here if you don't already subscribe). Yesterday when I walked in I dutifully approached the reception desk, signed in and was then ushered through the electronic gate by a rather bored-looking security man. Every time I entered or exited the training companies floor, I took the lift to the ground floor, retracing my steps past the guard. Use the picture below to pay I-Spy and spot the different barriers I have mentioned.
This morning, with an unfettered fitness fanaticism, I took the stairs when I came down from the eighth floor (and I went all the way back up. Twice), to get coffee in the corner of the foyer (behind the red chairs). I popped out just by the big Z for Zing sign that you can see.
The stairs have no security on them.
The building is quite new and tenant companies are not fully bedded in. However, I also discovered that not only did the stairwell grant me access to every other floor, none of which are controlled by the training company I was a client of, but also allowed me the chance to wander around Floor 7 which is completely empty. It's not just lacking people but everything, without so much as a partition wall to separate the vast floor into cubicles or rooms. Imagine an episode of Hustle where they set up an office on the fly and then, after the event, the connee goes back to look for them and everything has been disappeared. Some green tape marked where the corridors will eventually appear but that was it.
My point; either have security and enforce it, for whatever (mis) guided reason. But don't have such a huge loophole that it makes the security guard totally lacking in any purpose. Be consistent in what you present to the world. Otherwise I'll get annoyed.
Finally, in tips for building Mojo, we have acceptance. Here the suggestion is to name the issue or situation; literally give it a name that you can use to refer to it. In The Only Pirate at the Party, Lindsey Stirling talks about doing this with her eating disorder and it's a widely-used, well-proven tool. It might be an action of ours or of someone else, an environment we encounter or a tactic that we see used regularly.
By referring to it by name, let's call it Bob, we aid our understanding of the world as well as giving our brain a better chance of dealing with this more concrete event or action. It's no longer that-thing-that-we-can't-talk-about-because-we-don't-even-know-what-to-call-it. We can quickly retrieve information related to other instances of Bob and better deal with today's Bob. Things are harder to get out of proportion because 'it's only Bob again' and cease to have such a hold over us, so we can become more accepting. This is the element that liberates you from toxic emotions and naming the hard, annoying, tiresome, repetitive stuff allows you to get more of the acceptance in.
It maybe sounds a bit weird but it can be a first step in ridding yourself of that which is killing your mojo. If you want more from life and acceptance is what's currently letting you down, because you keep going round and round and wanting it to go away, then try it.
It's not about magically making things disappear. Acceptance is more about getting a handle on the things that we are powerless to change, for whatever reason. In fact acceptance is a major part of resilience as well. Read more about that in my article explaining it.
Reputation can have a big impact on your mojo; how we think others perceive us will affect how we feel about ourselves. One of the suggestions in this area is to record some personal metrics.
We can easily measure our weight as adults, like we measured our height when we were younger. Other things like money, that naturally fall into the field of quantitative analysis, are easy to keep track of. Are these what are most useful to you though? What is going wrong and how could you keep track of how bad it is, and is it getting better or worse.
This can be quite hard to get your head around but with some creative thinking you can find things to measure. For example, the number of times someone talks to you can be counted, whether it is a a customer or a teenage son, and over time will give you a picture of where things are going. The number of attempts it takes you to get a response from a client might be important too
Ask yourself, what bad news is affecting your mojo at the moment and when you answer that, find what you can measure. Notice the trends and then take action on it.
It sounds easy when you read Marshall Goldsmith's book about mojo. However, I know trying to find these qualitative parameters that can be quantified is quite hard. However, it is also something that can become clearer as you talk to someone. If you know this is an area you want to work on to improve the way you feel about yourself then get in touch now, by email or phone, through the contact page, and I'll happily help you to work out what metrics you want to keep an eye on, to build something new and exciting.
Achievements are another part of our Mojo, as defined by Marshall Goldsmith's book. They affect how we think of ourselves, how other people see us, and so are knitted into our identity. What is the next big thing you want to achieve and is it so big that you don't know where to start?
We've probably all been there at some stage, standing on the starting line wondering how on earth we'll get to the finish and getting discouraged as a result. This feeling then permeates other areas and it is easy to gently spiral downwards. We need to get going and start making inroads into achieving stuff again.
The tip is to work one brick at a time. Don't look at the wall needing to be built. Instead break it into small building blocks. I often ask the question 'what's your next smallest step?' as you set out towards your goal. It doesn't need to be anything big but stepping over the start line will give you the momentum whic feels good.
There are things to avoid that will help you in this process.
New achievement, that you and others can easily acknowledge, will boost your mojo so get on with it today. Maybe the first step is as simple as getting in touch to enlist my help.
Identity is about making sense of who you are. Part of boosting that is to find out where you are inhabiting on a graph of happiness versus meaning. In order to keep our mojo, everything you do should be contributing either to short-term happiness or longer-term meaning and benefit. If an activity fulfils neither, then why are we doing it? To that end you want to find out which area on the graph you are living in and, if it's not in the top corner where you are succeeding, then it's time to take steps to move there.
If both happiness and meaning are low, you will feel that you are only surviving and you probably already know you need to change something. Get in touch if you want help taking the next step.
If happiness is actually high but meaning is still low, life is probably quite stimulating and you are excited in the moment. However, any time you stop and look at where life is going or what it is all about, you may have misgivings.
When happiness is low and meaning is high, you will possibly be living a sacrifical life and feel at times that you are always doing things for someone else, never having time for yourself. Happiness needs to be ramped up a bit; finding stuff that is pleasurable, whatever that looks like for you, will help you feel more at home in your own skin, increasing your Mojo.
Finally the middle ground where both happiness and meaning are at mid-levels is what Goldsmith describes as sustaining, somewhere between survival and success. There's not much to complain about but nothing much to write home about either. There could be more.
Research has discovered that to increase overall satisfaction with our lives, we need to increase both the happiness levels in the short-term and the benefits that will accrue in the longer term (either for ourselves or others); an increase in Mojo that looks like success.
If you want a chat about this then contact me and we can talk it through or if you want we can walk it through with some coaching outside.
You could be happier. Probably. Okay, so it's a guess on my part, but if there's even a grain of truth in that then it's worth reading on.
How satisfied are you with your life? Or maybe a better question might, 'how much happier might it be possible to be?' Whilst I'm not saying that you can get infinite happiness and nothing bad will ever happen to you, it is definitely worth stopping to evaluate where you are.
I've just read Marshall Goldsmith's book about getting and keeping your Mojo, which he defines as 'that positive spirit towards what we are doing now that starts from the inside and radiates to the outside.' It's about being comfortable with who you are and what you're doing; being happy in your job and home life in such a way that this oozes out to other people around you. It's not blindly ignoring the bad bits, but more about taking the rough with the smooth, confident that the latter comfortably outweighs the former.
The book says your Mojo is made up of four components: your identity and how you see yourself; your achievements and how realistically you rate them; your reputation and what other people think of you; acceptance and how well you are reconciled to where you are, and make the most of that place.
In order to build your Mojo, depending on which aspect you think is lacking, Goldsmith suggests a number of tools to use. There are 14 in total, of which I will look at 4 in the next few days. He also lists a number of Mojo killers - actions and thinking to avoid to keep your satisfaction levels higher. I'll talk about those later.
For now, wait and read my next post about a tip for working on your identity. Alternatively, if you already are interested in having me work with you and want to know more, then get in touch and we can have a chat about how that would look.
Alternatively, go onto Marshall Goldsmith's site to download the Mojo Tracker Questionnaire as well as other useful free resources.
I was watching Derren Brown's show last week in which he was experimenting with social compliance. Basically he used people's willingness to go along with things to get them to a point where they chose (but in an inner-conflicted way) to push someone to their death.
It was compelling, if somewhat disturbing, viewing and proved an interesting point. We, you and I, humans everywhere, are susceptible to being influenced by what we think is expected of us, by peer pressure. We know it and we maybe think we deal with it okay and wouldn't be pushed too far. If you're in the UK you can watch the whole programme here.
This show tends to imply that's not true. 3 out of 4 subjects in the experiment went along with what was asked of them and pushed the (stunt)man off the roof of a building. All a little depressing since I can imagine they are reasonably representative of the population at large and, hoping for a sound moral core, I'd like to think we are better than that. It does tend to ratify the related idea that a lot of people would commit a crime if there were no consequences for themselves. Worrying.
But back to the programme which I said promoted growth. the bit I really liked was at the end, after three 'murders' had been committed, listening to the accuseds talking about how they would be dialling up their watchfulness and taking more control of their own lives. I like it when people aim for this and not the slough of lazily being controlled by someone else. Derren Brown was spoken of in terms of 'manipulation' and one tweet suggested how powerful he could be if he used his powers for evil, but I suspect there are already lots more nameless folks out there already doing just that. What else is marketing other than a (not always) subtle attempt to change how you think and therefore what you do? How many CEOs would like to be able to manipulate us to behave in a profit-making way for their companies?
Maybe like the Push3, we should take a long hard look at why we do the things that we do. How many of our actions are initiated because of deliberate desire, because it matches what is important to us and the way we live our lives - namely, our values? Where can we recognise that other people are pulling the strings, not always to our advantage? What are we doing that we are not proud of or not happy with?
Once we have identified external controls in our life, how can we cut them out? Questions to consider would include:
Even with all the questions you might be struggling to nail down what the issue is - you just know you are unhappy with the way you are behaving. If that's the case, and the suggestions on the flowchart download have still not helped, then get in touch to talk things through and if I can help you with some coaching then we can work together on whatever is bugging you.
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Nick has been writing for mass consumption ever since he was sending newsletters home from the Philippines 20+ years ago. He has carried on putting finger to keyboard, branching out into magazines, manuals and recently submitting lots of words for books. He has always aimed to be entertaining but at the same time challenging. If you like something, feel free to pass it on to someone else, but if you are challenged by it then even better - write a comment, start a debate, add to the fun.