It was recently my good fortune to attend a Masterclass in Learning Facilitation, created and facilitated by Helen Palmer. It was a fun and incredibly useful day, with lots of insights, advice, and a variety of techniques made available to us. Helen obviously has a ball while she facilitates, has an acute sense of when to deploy any of her huge repertoire of facilitation techniques, and generates a lovely energy during her sessions.
One thing that made me prick up my ears was during the section of the Masterclass when Helen was talking about preparing to facilitate. She mentioned that she makes sure that she puts aside half a day before and after a day of facilitation in order to be quiet, calm, and to reserve energy to give to her facilitation process. As an introvert, and an introvert who enjoys people, this approach made sense to me.
We are all familiar with the phrase ‘time management.’ Lately I have been thinking that we should also talk about energy management. We should not just think about when we do stuff, but also about the quality of energy we bring to the doing of those tasks. Working with people, working creatively, working technically, working intellectually, performing emotional or physical labour: these things all require different kinds of energy. Are we managing our lives so that we take not just enough, but the right type of energy into those tasks?
Helen also made the comment “Some things like turning off my phone (before facilitating) I almost treat like a ritual… so that I have the cognitive space to deal with the unexpected.” Again, this pointed to Helen deliberately shifting focus so that she brought the right kind of energy to her facilitation work.
Those of us who facilitate know how rewarding it can be: creative, interesting, satisfying, and just plain fun. But it is intense. To do it well you have to be incredibly present and responsive. This Masterclass equipped us with lots of techniques, and that is useful and important, but the discussion around preparing to facilitate – I would call it preparing your energy – was equally important. I guess the secret to succeeding at any task or undertaking is to make sure that you have the right techniques and the right amount and type of energy. We are often good at identifying what we need for technical efficiency; are we as good at understanding how to manage our energy?
The etymology of words fascinates me. Sometimes predictable, sometimes surprising, the differences and nuances in the meanings and context of words throughout their history is something I always find interesting.
Take the word ‘still,’ for example. According to the Etymonline website, its most ancient root comes from the Proto-Indo-European “stel-ni-, suffixed form of root stel- ‘to put, stand, put in order,’ … Meaning “quiet, calm, gentle, silent” emerged in later Old English.”
‘Put in order’ in its connection to ‘still’ resonated with me. As an introvert I crave a lot of time alone, as this allows me to be quiet and still. This solitary time does actually help me to ‘put in order’ my own thoughts and feelings before going out and facing the hurly burly of the world.
Etymonline’s entry on the word ‘reflection’ indicates that it first made its appearance in written English in the 14th century: “reflexion, in reference to surfaces throwing back light or heat.”
Again, for me this resonates. I use my still, quiet times to reflect, to go over experiences and reactions to make sense of them. On the surface of a still mind thoughts can indeed throw back images with more light, affording enlightenment.
It is early January as I write this. Many of us have had some kind of a break over Christmas. I spent mine quietly, which I needed to do after an epic 2019. It’s traditional to make New Year’s resolutions. I don’t do this anymore, but I have been thinking about the sort of year I want in 2020. This has required reflection on the opportunities and challenges brought about by past experiences, and how I can align these with the resources I have at hand.
I am hoping that this year will allow me more stable conditions so that I can bring some of the creative work I began in 2019 to fruition, and am determined to engender them. Whatever your wishes or needs are for 2020, I hope that the year brings an abundance of them.
I have been buried under an avalanche of bad news: the near death of one family member, the actual death of another, a work contract going sour due to toxic culture, and other more minor things that, by themselves, were irritants but still served to draw off energy that aforementioned crises had left in short supply.
It was a year of shock, grief, and some anger. My resilience and ability to stay grounded were tested although, as I write this, I do feel sane enough. This was a year about survival, not rapid progression, but some years are just like that.
For some time now I have been interested in resilience, and how to embed it in a practice. 2019 gave me ample opportunity to take mental notes on how to stay resilient, and what undermines this. Other people’s bullshit – never welcome for any of us – was particularly hard for me to bear; my friends’ kindness and loyalty continued to be a blessing.
My own ability to process, analyse, and gain some perspective did stand up to the test, but it was a severe test and there were many days when I knew better than to leave the house and inflict myself on other members of the human race. Or to allow them to inflict themselves on me.
Among the things that helped me have some degree of resilience – among them my creative practice, and my grieving process – was a strong sense of self-awareness, especially around my own energy levels. The feelings of fatigue following my Mother’s death, especially, were off the chart, but dealing with exhaustion has been a general and ongoing challenge during the whole of this year.
Along with being interested in resilience, I have also long (even before this year) been interested in exhaustion and how it can affect a person’s creativity, whether that is in terms of an effect on quality of work or quality of relationship between one-self and one’s own creative identity. These are subjects for other blogs.
The point I want to finish on in this blog is about the necessity of doing nothing much from time to time. As we go into the traditional western holiday season over Christmas, I am getting quietly excited about having a dull vacation. I long to do nothing and to be impacted by nothing. I long to rest.
“Original sense seems to be a measure of distance (compare Old High German rasta, which in addition to “rest” meant “league of miles,” Old Norse rost “league, distance after which one rests,” Gothic rasta “mile, stage of a journey”), perhaps a word from the nomadic period.”
So, rest is something you do after a period of journeying, of travailing.
The etymology of the word holiday is not surprising, as it originally meant what it sounds like: a special holy day, a day set aside for honouring the sacred.
We live in a world where busyness, scurrying, bustling, and striving are expected, even valorised. But too much frantic activity, resulting in exhaustion and a drawing off of energy and freshness, is bad for mind body and soul. The wellsprings of creativity and empathy can run dry.
Rest and rejuvenation are essential. Thinking about having a holiday can conjure images of lying by the pool and drinking sticky drinks out of a coconut. For me, this year, it will involve going to a small country town and reading books. Regardless of how your break looks to you – fun, restful, entertaining, exotic – if it truly rejuvenates you then consider it as sacred as well.
Thank you for reading my blog.
I wish you a Merry Christmas, whatever that looks like to you, and a safe, abundant, Happy New Year.
I’m putting out my hand – what’s going to be dropped into it?
I’ve just set a goal for myself: to get 12 rejections between now and December 2020. That should average out at one rejection per month on average.
What do I want to be rejected from? Fabulous things! For me, fabulous = writer’s residencies, commissions for articles or interviews, or pitches to interesting publications. Losing out on gigs as a professional interviewer or facilitator in community research or consultation contracts. Being turned down for creative facilitation or presenting at events and conferences. For the rejection to count it has to be something I really really want.
Where did I get the idea for setting the goal for a certain number of rejections? From a tweet I saw somewhere… I forget who the tweeter was, as this was years ago now. I think (think…) the person was an academic. She had set herself the goal of getting a certain number of rejections for publishing, research, or conference presentation opportunities. She reported that not only did aiming for a certain number of rejections embolden her, but she actually technically failed because some of her applications were successful. Thinking ‘here goes nothing’ she submitted for things she thought she would have no hope of getting, and was astonished to find that she was wrong.
So, in selecting the things I am aiming to get rejected for I am setting down the following criteria:
I will apply for things I am not confident I can get but which I would really like. This gives me a chance to stare down my impostor syndrome and at least entertain the idea of what success for me could look like.
I will apply for things where writing the submission will be useful in some way. In other words, will writing the submission force me to do some planning, refine concepts, research some logistics, prepare a budget, review and improve my biography, or some other useful thing? I have always found that this is a good side goal to set when doing some persuasive writing as, if you fail, then at least putting the submission together wasn’t a total waste of time.
I will reward myself each time I send off a submission. When I used to write grants, I would buy myself a bunch of flowers or some cake after I met each deadline. Also, and most importantly, I will do something similar to comfort myself when I receive a rejection. If I apply to fabulous things that could matter to me then it will sting when I don’t get them. There’s no way around that. Gentleness with self is essential to bolstering resilience.
Humanistic religions offer hope for human progress, while salvation-oriented religions offer hope for a better world to come, but pretty much every flavor of religion deals in some kind of hope: for miracles, for eternal life, for an escape from suffering, for strength to change, for the eventual triumph of the better angels of our nature, or some other desirable outcome.
Once you start thinking about hope, your reading will fairly quickly bring you to a useful distinction that (for reasons I don’t understand) never catches on with the general public: Hope is not optimism.
The two words often get used interchangeably in conversation, and…
Self unLimited has been created by Questo with the aim of providing “resources for your 21st century vocational adventure.” These resources include a book, an online community, a podcast, training programs, and articles.
I was recently invited by Helen Palmer, leading light of Questo and Self unLimited, to write an article to be included on the Self unLimited website. She suggested a letter about breaking up with your organisation, a sort of ‘Dear John’ missive…
I had great fun writing this and it is now up on the website. You can find it here.
I have done other writing assignments for Self unLimited, and have enjoyed developing creative material to help illustrate and animate the Self unLimited concept. One aspect, among many, that I have been impressed by has been the emphasis on defining value – not just in financial terms but also in how work can give people a sense of purpose or otherwise add quality to their lives. Interestingly, when I came to write my ‘Dear John Pty. Ltd.’ letter I didn’t focus on money, but found myself instead describing how someone might feel on departing an organisation.
“Abusing yourself is a way of demonstrating your fitness.”
~ Professor Drew Dawson.
The above quote was a wry observation (certainly not a recommendation or an endorsement!) made by Professor Dawson during the Q & A after a recent keynote – ‘Positively Managing Workplace Fatigue’ – he gave at the Victorian Workplace Mental Wellbeing Collaboration’s Business Leaders Breakfast on 1 March 2019.
Professor Drew made the above statement while he was talking about the tendency of too many people to brag about the ruinously long hours they work. He recommended instead that we (and especially workplace leaders) should be modelling healthier behaviours around getting enough sleep and rest, important given the negative impacts that fatigue has on wellbeing and productivity.
But I think this quote could be applied to other unhelpful behaviours we see, especially at management level – things that have been valorised instead of being decried as counterproductive, pointless, or sometimes just downright nasty.
How many of these things have you seen backfire? And I’m going to broaden this to abusing others, as well as ourselves, as a demonstration of supposed fitness for leadership. Because each abuse of leadership does carry some karma with it: instant in that you stand to immediately run down the levels of trust and respect your team might have for you even while you are setting up future bad habits for yourself. Long term in that, down the track, there may be health problems or legal implications of repeated instances of these actions. Here are a few leadership sins:
Giving feedback that is frank to the point of rudeness and denigration. If you choose words carefully and put some thought into how you structure your conversation, you can be completely honest with someone with mounting a psychological attack.
Having workplace conversations in front of others that should be had in private.
Not planning properly, not managing your time properly. Running around like a headless chook will not only burn you out, it will send the wrong messages to your team.
Not taking time off if you’re sick but choosing instead to carry on. If you come to work and cough and splutter through your day, no-one else is impressed by your stoicism. We’re just scared of catching your lurgy. And the same goes for mental health issues – I have seen some incredibly awkward situations where workers were conflicted by feelings of sympathy for an obviously depressed or stressed manager and also frustrated by the problems caused by that manager’s inevitable lapses in concentration, focus, and motivation. If you’re unwell, take the time off, seek professional help. *
Sticking with a job you hate just for the money. Acknowledged: a lot of workers are pushed into the situation where they have to take any job they can get to keep themselves off the dole queue, support their families, and keep a roof over their heads. Changing jobs – upgrading to a job you enjoy – can take a long time (especially for workers with low or limited skillsets) so workers can be trapped in a job they hate for a long time. But managers, who can point to high level skills and plenty of experience, have less excuse. There is nothing worse than working for a manager who clearly couldn’t give a toss about their work.
Can you think of any others? Leave a comment below.
I created a Wakelet collection of tweets and notes from Professor Dawson’s keynote ‘Positively Managing Workplace Fatigue’ which you can check out here.
*Seriously, depression is a very serious health problem but, with the right treatment, it can be effectively treated. Don’t ignore it. Get help.