You are already enough

This week I spent Tuesday afternoon coaching women writers at the Women’s Prize Live event. I loved meeting them all, they were, to a woman, smart, funny, open, creative and curious. And yet, over and over the words that were wrapped tight around the lives of these amazing women, stifling their creativity, were guilt and self-doubt.

I don’t usually see so many clients back-to-back so although I recognised that these words have come up for EVERY SINGLE WOMAN I have coached, I have never experienced it in one massive download before. I have never felt it, like I felt it on Tuesday. About half-way through the sessions I could feel a rising anger. An anger that so many women have no idea how bloody brilliant they are, that despite juggling an, often, overwhelming amount of life stuff they still don’t think that it is enough. Far too often the thought of taking some time away from being a mum, a daughter, a wife, an employee, an employer and whatever other roles we put first, induces a crippling amount of guilt. Because it’s selfish to do something purely for ourselves, isn’t it?

 

On the train home I scribbled in my notebook so I wouldn’t forget how I’d felt:

 

Why, as women, do we never feel like we do enough? Like we are enough?

 

Why is taking time to do something just for ourselves selfish when we happily allow our partners or children to spend a weekend playing sport, tinkering with a motorbike, or any number of hobbies that contribute nothing to the family but make them happy?

 

How do we stop this?

 

There is no silver bullet. Thousands of years of social conditioning have brought us to this place. And it’s not about having it all, that’s another nonsense that adds to The Things We Must Achieve. It’s about making choices to do one thing over another, choosing a thing that is just for us and then giving ourselves permission to enjoy doing it. It’s hard and it takes practise, but ‘I’m just popping upstairs to write for an hour’ should be just as normal in our households as ‘I’m off to the garage to polish my bike for a bit.’ Wouldn’t that be liberating? Imagine all those new voices that would be out there in the world.

 

Thank you to each and every one of you that sat before me this week and told me something of who you are. I hope in return I have helped you to start believing you can be what you want.

 

You are allowed to pursue something just because you want to.

 

You are already enough.

 

Writing for Wellbeing

Writing for Wellbeing

Towards the end of last year, I signed up for Cardiff University’s Writing for Wellbeing course. ‘Great!’ I thought, always keen to learn new skills for my coaching. Ten weeks’ worth of new skills to add to my CV. ‘Boom! Sorted!’

What I hadn’t considered much when I sent my application off was what the actual process would be like. How much I would have to give of myself during the course. How much I would benefit in my whole life, not just my CV. I was ticking a box and looking forward to learning again. Then everything changed . . .

Taming overwhelm, one stick at a time

Taming overwhelm, one stick at a time

Where I walk my dog in the mornings there is a colony of crows. At the moment they are nest building, a task that I find fascinating. I can see how they manage once they have the foundations in. A decent amount of sticks woven into a platform from which they can build upwards in relative safety. But how do they start? How do they choose where to put the first stick or get the first one to stay where they want it? It’s a task that seems daunting to me, overwhelmingly difficult, where to begin?

The power of connection

The power of connection

I drove home ridiculously grateful for these small connections, the acknowledgement, the wry smiles of ‘I know, how mad is this’, the head nods of ‘no, no, after you’ as two of us head for the toothpaste at the same time. The woman at the till was from Poland. She wants to see her Mum. My mum is only down the road. I want to see my Mum too. I want to hug my friends. Zoom drinks are all well and good, but they don’t really replace touching people.

Finding gratitude in a tough week

Today is probably going to be a tough one for many people. The shock and novelty of last week is wearing off and the new reality is becoming, well, real. The things we take for granted are temporarily disappearing – seeing mums on Mother’s Day, going to the pub, out for a meal, taking the kids to the playground, hugging our friends and family and many, many livelihoods are at severe risk. This is really hard stuff, we are used to having whatever we want whenever we want it, whether that is material things for those lucky enough to have plentiful resources or freedom of movement.

This is the week to be really kind to yourself and those around you as everyone builds a path to begin their new life. I have been weepy all weekend, I know I am mourning the losses, worrying about the people I love and feeling helpless. I don’t want to be like that, but I also know I must let it come when it comes. It’s a perfectly normal response to the changing world.

But I don’t want to wallow, I always feel better when I achieve something so I am making a list of one work thing to get done every day. Just one, being kind to myself. I know that some days I will do more than one of the things on the list, great, but by having just one each day I’m not setting myself up for failure on the emotionally harder days and making myself feel worse.

This morning I am also going to write down some things I am grateful for inspired by Eva Salzman’s Spells. Cathy Rentzenbrink introduced me to this poem on our last writing course when we did this exercise with the writers. It was lots of fun and is useful for remembering the good stuff. You don’t have to be a writer to do it, it can be whatever you want it to be, it’s your poem.

Spells by Eva Salzman

A curse on the lover with shyness as a plausible cover for his black lies.
A curse on his leather furniture sticking to the skin.
A curse on his row after row of tasteful jazz
and the glass table’s cutting edges.

A blessing on my cobalt blue vase
and a spray of lemon fuchsia, and forgetting.

A curse on 4 a.m., the light like soot or burnt milk in a pan.
A blessing on the dawn and dusk, when the sun and moon both are large and shimmering.

A curse on the memories like storm clouds in my heart.
A blessing on the storm clouds outside my window.
A curse on the useless letters I never throw away.
A blessing on my right arm for its sharp delivery.
A curse on my sharp tongue for its sharp delivery.

A blessing on the Lyric muse when she is kind to me.
A curse on the Lyric muse, for she is on holiday in the Bahamas.
A blessing on the warm salt seas for their constancy and power.
A curse on the razor-clams which slice bare feet.

A blessing on foreign countries: their birds and trees, their people, their clothing, their houses and songs.
A curse on their wars, our wars.
A blessing on their dawn, their dusk, their seas, even their deceitful men.
A blessing.
A blessing.

My somewhat less lyrical version today begins:

A curse on distance with my son so far from home.
A blessing that he is in New Zealand, with a sensible and inspiring leader.

A curse on the lockdown and curtailing of freedom.
A blessing on the sunshine and peace in my garden.

Be kind to yourselves today, and to others. I’m off to continue my version of Spells and remember the things I am grateful for. I already feel less weepy, long may it last.

They did what?!!!

Patience and understanding through change

People react very differently to change. Some embrace it and are energised by the new and exciting. Others are anxious about not knowing how things are going to be and lots of people will swing between the two. You and your team will all be reacting to the new way of working in different ways and at different times.

Take a look at the Kubler Ross change curve, where are you sitting on that curve? Where are each of your team members? What about other colleagues? Understanding that people could be reacting to this change differently to you and therefore behaving differently around it is a big step to making this work for everyone.

Then think about why people are where they are on the curve. They may process change faster or more slowly than you do. Or it might be situational - you might be skipping around the suburbs excited about setting up your home office area and wondering what sort of stationery you can buy but your team might be worrying about how they are going to work at home while the kids are off school, or the only workspace in their flatshare is sitting on their bed or how they stop their addict brother from nicking the company laptop they have brought home.

Everyone has their own stuff going on which might mean remote working is harder for some than others. Find out. Ask your team and colleagues if there is anything they are worried about that will make this new reality hard for them. You won’t necessarily be able to fix it for them but understanding their position will help you to understand their behaviour, even when it isn’t necessarily what you would expect. Which leads me onto patience.

When everything is new, mistakes may happen, things may get missed, behaviours may be exaggerated because people are outside their comfort zone. Nobody does something new perfectly the first time. Mass working at home is very new.

So ask yourself some questions when something goes wrong. What can you learn from this? What could you do differently next time? What support can you put in place around this? Who else would benefit from knowing what you have now learnt? Be patient. With your team, with your manager, with your colleagues, with yourself.

It’s easy to nod and agree about the importance of understanding and patience. This is not rocket science. The part that I see people struggle with when I am coaching is remembering to apply understanding and patience in the moment rather than with hindsight. Particularly when they are wrapped up in the event and seeing everything through their own prism, their own perspective. We all have our own stresses and pressure triggers. Managing to take a breath and ask ‘what lies behind this behaviour’ is more critical than ever. Only then can you really support your colleagues, and yourself, through change.

You can do it

If you can start managing and leading in this whole new world having thought about the questions above you will be ahead of the game in terms of doing a great job supporting your colleagues through this period.

Getting into your groove working from home - by giving yourself permission

Getting into your groove working from home - by giving yourself permission

What a strange new world we find ourselves in.

Working from home, for those who can, is becoming the new norm. It is a huge cultural change for many of us more used to a prescribed structure of being at work by a certain time, leaving at a certain time, regular meetings around which you fit the rest of your work, a quick chat to sort something out as you pass someone’s desk, the often undervalued but vitally important organisational glue of socialisation - asking how someone’s weekend or evening went, how their mother is now or their child, all of these things and more we take for granted when we are in the office, so much the daily fabric of what we do and where we are that we don’t consciously think about it.