Week 24
Mix of work and other this week.
Work
Finally chopped off the long tail of that engagement that wasn’t ending. The client is sad to see us go - but I’m going to subscribe to the adage “always leave them wanting more”, rather than dwell on the impact we could have had if we’d kept going. It’ll be lovely to watch the client team progressing on their service transformation - we’ll just be cheering from the sidelines like everyone else now.
I was struggling to effectively communicate how I saw something unfolding - because a lot of the words we and the client team were using have been ambiguous, so we’ve been talking at cross-purposes. I don’t ordinarily choose to work late evening/early morning, but I was struck by inspiration and found a much better (and visual) way of getting my point across and showing how their concepts were similar but different. And the clarity meant we were able to spot material differences in our thinking, and know where decisions hade to be made - really speeding us out of the fog we’d been in. Reflection: I say there’s no such thing as overcommunication, but the value of repeating poor communication isn’t high. Without my intervention, we could have kept spinning our wheels - and no amount of communication in that context would have moved things forward. We needed to show what we meant. Spending focused time working through a very different way of communicating the concept - one that would be much less ambiguous - was absolutely worth it.
I was a participant in a workshop this week that had been run a few times already with different groups. Billed as co-design, it was clear from the start of the session that it was actually an engagement session intended to win people round to ideas the facilitators already had by packaging them up as our own. I was being “stakeholder managed” - and it felt quite yucky. Reflection: workshop participants aren’t unintelligent, they know when you’re leading them somewhere. They see you introducing entirely new concepts while you’re paraphasing their contributions, they hear you using different language to them and aren’t surprised when it magically matches the slides you made earlier, Blue Peter-style. This feels disingenuous and patronising. It is OKAY to share what you already have (but do it early, and change it in response to feedback) - just don’t dress it up as something else.
Other
I’m back swimming once more, focused on getting strong enough to move from pool to lake or sea. I love the idea of open water swimming, but didn’t manage to build up my fitness enough to actually make the transition last time. Why? Because my technique wasn’t good (so it was exhausting) - and the swimming instructor stood at the side of the pool chatting rather than giving anyone feedback. It’s why I left in the end. And it’s why I’d been reluctant to return. But I did, and I was pleased - the new swimming instructor is very attentive and encouraging. I’m still going to have to get the hours of swimming in to build up my stamina, but I’m confident this time I will actually see the improvement I’m looking for. Reflection: it’s absurd to think that I’d subconsciously abandoned the goal of getting strong enough for open water swimming because of one bad swimming instructor. But I had. It’s a reminder of how difficult it is to persuade myself to do hard things. I have loads of excuses at the ready for abandoning a swimming lesson - and that one was enough to properly tank the endeavour. Do we do the same in our work lives? Take a failure in one context, and generalise it to others, letting cynicism take root? Or remember a colleague with whom you once had a challenging relationship, and assume that won’t change? All I needed to do was try again - one lesson - to test my assumption, and if it had gone badly I could have quit. But what if it goes well is the question we need to be asking ourselves.
I struggled to sleep this week. My mum started the week with a bladder problem and, as anyone caring for clinically vulnerable parents, infections are not fun. Midweek - just as we were heading into the evening stage of our work summer gathering, I found out it wasn’t a bladder problem, it was bowel cancer. I stood off to the side, away from my colleagues, and had a little cry. Sleep-deprived and perimenopausal can make for a bit of an emotional mess (and that’s before the Pimms), so I’m grateful to my colleagues’ support through Wednesday’s messiness. Reflection: lots of workplaces say they have a caring values-led culture, but its times like these where it’s really put to the test. Every single person who interacted with me showed me how much they cared and communicated clearly that they had my back. Whatever I needed. Want to leave straight for Scotland, Audree? Need a mental health day on Thursday, Audree? Want to talk to a specialist oncologist friend for a second opinion - they’ll hook me up. Want to just let loose, take silly photos and distract myself - they’ll bring the distraction. This is what I needed, and something I didn’t get while contracting. And I’m so immensely grateful for it.
Friday was my birthday. Eggs benedict for brunch; and a gastropub (the Alford Arms) for dinner. The kids were so excited for my birthday - the youngest has been making me hand-made gifts fora couple of weeks now in preparation. Reflection: on my birthday itself I felt the second-hand joy from my kids more strongly than my own. I did today too - cycling with Zoe down a hill on the way back from swimming, she squealed with happiness and I felt that sound lighten my heart. Is there a way for me to get some of that first-hand joy back again? It surely isn’t something I left behind in my childhood - but I’m struggling to recall feeling it since. I can do contented. Perhaps I’m too serious or cynical for joy now? I jokingly called Ben Terrett “a joyless optimist” once - but perhaps that label fits closer to home? —— On second thought, even if it’s true, I don’t believe it’s inevitable or permanent. I just need to be more consciously seeking out joyful experiences - and, learning from my children, perhaps simple joys are the right place to start.