This morning I woke up at 5am, forty-five minutes before my alarm was set to go off. I'm grateful because it gave me time to wash my hair and still be at work on time. I felt better about myself today.
Thank you.
A participant in the program I have been facilitating this week, bowled up to me at the end of the two days, looked in my eyes, smiled and told me that I had really inspired him.
Thank you.
Another participant told me that he had realised that he has been badly behaved at work. He also told me that his behaviour had been bad for 40 years and no one had ever told him. He told me that he now knows he needs to change. He told me he needs help because he doesn't know how to make the change. I felt privileged to be the person he confided in. I had thought he would be difficult to deal with, but I had really enjoyed his participation. I told him so.
Thank you.
I was to meet a friend who is visiting Melbourne this evening. He received an invitation relevant to the conference he's here attending and had to change our plans. We're meeting tomorrow for lunch. I'll be much fresher and awake! (I'm very tired this evening.) I now get a bonus early night and still get to see my friend.
Thank you.
Listening to the story of a boy who fled Afghanistan at the age of 14 after his father was murdered and spent a year in immigration detention on Christmas Island, I thought about what I was doing when I was fourteen. I was at school. I was starring in the school musical. I was playing music. I was reading novels. I was hanging out with friends and writing letters to my pen pals. I don't think I would have been able travel alone to the other side of the planet and start a new life. This boy is now vice captain at his school and is relishing the opportunity he has to sit exams.
Thank you.
Lastly, I'm grateful for Survivor. Last night was sensational viewing in the Beauty, Brawn and Brains season. The show gave me a point of connection with one of the less engaged participants at today's workshop. I also had a fabulous debrief on the phone afterwards with one of my friends. (For the record, Cass did her dash last night and LJ is very nice to have around.)
Thank you.
And lastly, always, thank you for the music. This week I've been listening to Max Richter's The Four Seasons Recomposed and The Fray's album "Helios".
What are you saying "thank you" for this week?
Showing posts with label thankfulness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thankfulness. Show all posts
Friday, 4 April 2014
Saturday, 19 May 2012
Humour - when it isn't very funny.
This week I've been thinking about humour. For the first time in my life, I experienced humour in a negative way and gained a different perspective.
From my perspective, I've always thought that a sense of humour is as necessary to sustaining life as a heart and lungs. I even remember ending a relationship because it became apparent that the man in question had no sense of humour. It was worse than a physical disability. I see the funny side of life and like to laugh, so was confronted when I had a participant in a program I was facilitating who used it to deflect responsibility.
The man was in a group of senior leaders in a significant organisation. As it turned out, several of the other participants were led by him. Very early in the course, he started to drop one-liners in response to anything anyone said. There's nothing wrong with making people laugh. What I noticed was that the response to his interventions was at best, lukewarm, polite chuckling. And still they kept coming. Any time this man was challenged or confronted he used humour to deflect responsibility and to dilute the confrontation.
This can be a really useful skill if you find yourself under attack. Distracting the attacker and making them laugh at themselves is a way of ensuring safety.
The program I was facilitating was in the realm of leadership development and by it's nature is confronting. My role as a facilitator is to "turn up the heat" and challenge participants to explore unfamiliar territory and think and act differently. I could see that this man needed to take responsibility for the way he was acting and the results he was getting. His use of humour as a deflection weapon was perfectly designed to distract attention away from his shortcomings.
He was very creative and tried everything to stay "safe": he forged alliances with anyone else struggling with a concept, he argued with me, he blamed me, he complained that a particular task was "hard". The one thing he failed to do was take responsibility. He was the king of the "yes, but" response. He had official status within the group - he was probably one of the most senior leaders in the room - but over the two days of the program his status was diminished. Through his unwillingness to take responsibility, he made himself less powerful and less relevant.
Truthfully, he was getting on my goat. I wondered whether this was because he was stealing my spot as the funny person in the room. I observed myself as carefully as I was observing him in the group. There were opportunities for humour and I felt myself hesitating to use it (would humour at this point allow the whole group to deflect responsibility?). I made the choice to be myself and took the opportunity to make the group really laugh. They did. Then I wondered whether I was actually being competitive with this man. I rationalised my behaviour, deciding that we had fundamentally different roles in the room and that no competition existed. I checked my view of this man with my co-facilitator. He was thinking the same thing.
So, I challenged this man by asking him what was happening for him. He opened right up and essentially debunked the organisation's view of leadership and what they are requiring of their leaders. Ah ha! He was fighting for air as the tide turned and he had to change or (metaphorically) die. If he could create the sense that he's a "good bloke" it would be a useful defence to help him retain his job.
By the end of two days, there was a massive shift. I was facilitating the closing session of the two days and asking participants to share their next steps. This man waited until last. He sat in his chair and put his hands on his head, thrust his chest out and spoke so quietly I had to ask him to repeat himself. He started by saying "if I'm honest, and I suppose I have to be" and then said that he could see that the world had moved on and he had some decisions to make about what he would do.
I was so pleased! Without this realisation and acceptance, this man would not give himself the opportunity to change. He would continue on his path and then wonder why he was being moved on. At least he was now in charge of his decisions.
In a different setting, perhaps I would have found him funny and been happy to laugh along with him. Even though he was very challenging, I'm thankful that he was in a workshop with me. He gave me the opportunity to question something fundamental to my way of working - humour.
As the group dispersed, another participant came to say goodbye to me. He made the point of telling me that he really enjoyed my humour.
What's your relationship with humour?
From my perspective, I've always thought that a sense of humour is as necessary to sustaining life as a heart and lungs. I even remember ending a relationship because it became apparent that the man in question had no sense of humour. It was worse than a physical disability. I see the funny side of life and like to laugh, so was confronted when I had a participant in a program I was facilitating who used it to deflect responsibility.
The man was in a group of senior leaders in a significant organisation. As it turned out, several of the other participants were led by him. Very early in the course, he started to drop one-liners in response to anything anyone said. There's nothing wrong with making people laugh. What I noticed was that the response to his interventions was at best, lukewarm, polite chuckling. And still they kept coming. Any time this man was challenged or confronted he used humour to deflect responsibility and to dilute the confrontation.
This can be a really useful skill if you find yourself under attack. Distracting the attacker and making them laugh at themselves is a way of ensuring safety.
The program I was facilitating was in the realm of leadership development and by it's nature is confronting. My role as a facilitator is to "turn up the heat" and challenge participants to explore unfamiliar territory and think and act differently. I could see that this man needed to take responsibility for the way he was acting and the results he was getting. His use of humour as a deflection weapon was perfectly designed to distract attention away from his shortcomings.
He was very creative and tried everything to stay "safe": he forged alliances with anyone else struggling with a concept, he argued with me, he blamed me, he complained that a particular task was "hard". The one thing he failed to do was take responsibility. He was the king of the "yes, but" response. He had official status within the group - he was probably one of the most senior leaders in the room - but over the two days of the program his status was diminished. Through his unwillingness to take responsibility, he made himself less powerful and less relevant.
Truthfully, he was getting on my goat. I wondered whether this was because he was stealing my spot as the funny person in the room. I observed myself as carefully as I was observing him in the group. There were opportunities for humour and I felt myself hesitating to use it (would humour at this point allow the whole group to deflect responsibility?). I made the choice to be myself and took the opportunity to make the group really laugh. They did. Then I wondered whether I was actually being competitive with this man. I rationalised my behaviour, deciding that we had fundamentally different roles in the room and that no competition existed. I checked my view of this man with my co-facilitator. He was thinking the same thing.
So, I challenged this man by asking him what was happening for him. He opened right up and essentially debunked the organisation's view of leadership and what they are requiring of their leaders. Ah ha! He was fighting for air as the tide turned and he had to change or (metaphorically) die. If he could create the sense that he's a "good bloke" it would be a useful defence to help him retain his job.
By the end of two days, there was a massive shift. I was facilitating the closing session of the two days and asking participants to share their next steps. This man waited until last. He sat in his chair and put his hands on his head, thrust his chest out and spoke so quietly I had to ask him to repeat himself. He started by saying "if I'm honest, and I suppose I have to be" and then said that he could see that the world had moved on and he had some decisions to make about what he would do.
I was so pleased! Without this realisation and acceptance, this man would not give himself the opportunity to change. He would continue on his path and then wonder why he was being moved on. At least he was now in charge of his decisions.
In a different setting, perhaps I would have found him funny and been happy to laugh along with him. Even though he was very challenging, I'm thankful that he was in a workshop with me. He gave me the opportunity to question something fundamental to my way of working - humour.
As the group dispersed, another participant came to say goodbye to me. He made the point of telling me that he really enjoyed my humour.
What's your relationship with humour?
Wednesday, 29 February 2012
Exploring mental illness
It's been a strange day.
It seemed darker than usual at 7am. There were trucks reversing, making that beeping sound. They woke me up.
I got out of bed, earlier than I had planned.
Over breakfast, I got into the skin of the character I was playing in a film today. It was complex and I don't think I've shaken her off yet.
She had Borderline Personality Disorder. As I took on the details of her life and started to think about how I would bring her to be in the world, I felt myself slipping into the background. I was providing my own wardrobe, so it was tricky to choose from my own things they needed to speak of her, rather than me. She had a history of self-harm so I made sure my arms and legs were covered. I'd been asked to wear no jewellery and felt naked as I walked out the door. I always wear jewellery.
There was a lot of detail to remember and I had to summons feelings and manifestations of things that I have never myself experienced. A sense of dissociation, a sense of nothing but black inside and a level of impulsiveness that goes well beyond just being spontaneous, were among them.
And then there was the sadness and difficulty of her life that needed to be brought into focus.
I always find when playing a role that I need to understand and accept the person I am to bring to life. Today was a challenge, but I delivered. The power of imagination and the ability to transform into someone else is one of the magical things about acting. My face felt different. My body was positioned differently from how I normally sit and stand. Everything was a different shape.
After the director called "cut" I felt myself start to rise to the surface again. It's interesting that a sense of dissociation and lost time are what I often feel when I come out of a role and these are some of the characteristics of many mental illnesses.
I've put today's character away and learnt that I'm really glad I don't suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. And, while my life is not perfect in every respect, I am very happy to be living it.
The first thing I did when I arrived home was put on my earrings, necklace and rings, but it will take a good night's sleep to be fully present again...see you tomorrow.
It seemed darker than usual at 7am. There were trucks reversing, making that beeping sound. They woke me up.
I got out of bed, earlier than I had planned.
Over breakfast, I got into the skin of the character I was playing in a film today. It was complex and I don't think I've shaken her off yet.
She had Borderline Personality Disorder. As I took on the details of her life and started to think about how I would bring her to be in the world, I felt myself slipping into the background. I was providing my own wardrobe, so it was tricky to choose from my own things they needed to speak of her, rather than me. She had a history of self-harm so I made sure my arms and legs were covered. I'd been asked to wear no jewellery and felt naked as I walked out the door. I always wear jewellery.
There was a lot of detail to remember and I had to summons feelings and manifestations of things that I have never myself experienced. A sense of dissociation, a sense of nothing but black inside and a level of impulsiveness that goes well beyond just being spontaneous, were among them.
And then there was the sadness and difficulty of her life that needed to be brought into focus.
I always find when playing a role that I need to understand and accept the person I am to bring to life. Today was a challenge, but I delivered. The power of imagination and the ability to transform into someone else is one of the magical things about acting. My face felt different. My body was positioned differently from how I normally sit and stand. Everything was a different shape.
After the director called "cut" I felt myself start to rise to the surface again. It's interesting that a sense of dissociation and lost time are what I often feel when I come out of a role and these are some of the characteristics of many mental illnesses.
I've put today's character away and learnt that I'm really glad I don't suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. And, while my life is not perfect in every respect, I am very happy to be living it.
The first thing I did when I arrived home was put on my earrings, necklace and rings, but it will take a good night's sleep to be fully present again...see you tomorrow.
Thursday, 23 February 2012
Nourishment of more than the food kind
On one hand I've been feeling really appreciated today and on the other I had an encounter that left me, well, puzzled.
There has been some turbulence this week. Nothing dramatic, just a few bumps, but enough to make me purse my lips and clench my jaw. The fact I haven't reached the point of not being able to open my mouth is a positive sign that I've been dealing with it.
My uncertainty this week has grown from challenges to the mindset I have when approaching dealings with other people. That mindset can be summed up as "I give the best of myself to others and have no reason to expect that others will not do the same." This has been a liberating thing, but it can also be challenging when people act in a way that is inconsistent with this. Vulnerability is the word that springs to mind.
I've been showered with love today from three women with whom I have very different relationships. The general theme has been "you're fantastic". How wonderful! How lucky I am to have friends in my world who are so willing to be expressive!
After my lovely long lunch with one of these women today, I dropped her at the tram stop in Collins Street and went off to run some errands. The particular stop is one of those super stops where the tram runs down the middle and passengers alight on the outside. I was waiting for an approaching tram to stop at the stop before crossing. To my left was a woman wearing a full bur-qua. She stepped out to cross and was on her way to walking in front of a tram approaching from the other direction. I called out to her to stop and took a step to grab her. She shook me off and said that she was fine.
"I'm not blind you know. I may be wearing a bur-qua, but I can see. I'm not blind!" she said angrily.
My instinct to stop her walking in front of an oncoming tram was unconnected to what she was wearing! I was just reaching out to another human being. Another woman who was also crossing, looked at me and rolled her eyes.
"You just saved that woman's life. Good work! She should be thanking you!"
I thanked her for noticing. It was nice to be acknowledged.
Wonder why the bur-qua clad woman took such offence to my gesture? I was feeling good after being so affirmed by my friends. Maybe the bur-qua clad woman is in need of such nourishment from the relationships in her own life. So, I thanked the woman who acknowledged me and it doesn't matter that the woman on the fatal path didn't - I still offered the gesture and that's what really matters.
Thank you to the wonderful people in my life.
There has been some turbulence this week. Nothing dramatic, just a few bumps, but enough to make me purse my lips and clench my jaw. The fact I haven't reached the point of not being able to open my mouth is a positive sign that I've been dealing with it.
My uncertainty this week has grown from challenges to the mindset I have when approaching dealings with other people. That mindset can be summed up as "I give the best of myself to others and have no reason to expect that others will not do the same." This has been a liberating thing, but it can also be challenging when people act in a way that is inconsistent with this. Vulnerability is the word that springs to mind.
I've been showered with love today from three women with whom I have very different relationships. The general theme has been "you're fantastic". How wonderful! How lucky I am to have friends in my world who are so willing to be expressive!
After my lovely long lunch with one of these women today, I dropped her at the tram stop in Collins Street and went off to run some errands. The particular stop is one of those super stops where the tram runs down the middle and passengers alight on the outside. I was waiting for an approaching tram to stop at the stop before crossing. To my left was a woman wearing a full bur-qua. She stepped out to cross and was on her way to walking in front of a tram approaching from the other direction. I called out to her to stop and took a step to grab her. She shook me off and said that she was fine.
"I'm not blind you know. I may be wearing a bur-qua, but I can see. I'm not blind!" she said angrily.
My instinct to stop her walking in front of an oncoming tram was unconnected to what she was wearing! I was just reaching out to another human being. Another woman who was also crossing, looked at me and rolled her eyes.
"You just saved that woman's life. Good work! She should be thanking you!"
I thanked her for noticing. It was nice to be acknowledged.
Wonder why the bur-qua clad woman took such offence to my gesture? I was feeling good after being so affirmed by my friends. Maybe the bur-qua clad woman is in need of such nourishment from the relationships in her own life. So, I thanked the woman who acknowledged me and it doesn't matter that the woman on the fatal path didn't - I still offered the gesture and that's what really matters.
Thank you to the wonderful people in my life.
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