What I'm saying "thank you" for this week.

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?

The compulsion of the mobile phone - is that email really so important?

When I facilitate groups, I've noticed that the way I set up expectations about the use of personal devices like mobile phones, ipads, laptops has changed significantly. If I don't have an explicit conversation about boundaries and respect, then participants would be checking emails, facebook and tweeting throughout their learning sessions.

When I'm working with leaders, I talk about the messages they send to their team if they are consistently responsive to emails and phone messages. I ask whether they have faith in the team they have around them to carry on in their absence. Generally they nod and smile and tell me they have complete faith in their team. A few moments later, they'll be surreptitiously reading email under the desk.

Reading email on the phone under the desk is the same as picking your nose when you're driving the car: everyone can see what you're doing!

Why is it that the information and communication on our phones has apparently become more compelling than the interactions occurring beside us?

After setting up and gaining explicit agreement about phones being put away and only checked during breaks so that focus is intense, participants engaged and fellow students respected, usually people adhere to that agreement.  Sometimes, however, they don't. I know that this really gets under my skin and I need to make a choice about how I respond.

I'm now clear that when I've set boundaries, the group looks to me to help them hold those boundaries in place. If behaviour that is outside what the group has established occurs and is left unchecked by the leader (me) then very soon resentment will breed and the agreement will crumble.

Sometimes when I speak directly to someone about the boundaries and how they're outside them, they look to me to tell them what they should do. I don't. I remind them of where they are and what they've agreed and tell them that they need to make a choice that takes account of their commitment and respect for the group as well as their own needs. Mostly, they put the phone away and meet the needs of the group and their commitment to it.

And then at the end of the day, someone will shake my hand and say goodbye with the ipod already plugged in. Talk about feeling dismissed!

How do you manage the compulsion of the mobile phone?

Ringing the Federation Bells - it's a celebration!

I made a decision to join in with something this week which has made my first full week back in the world of work and home very intense. The opportunity is unique and I'm glad that I decided to join, even though I'm limping towards the end of the week.

This weekend marks the fifth birthday of the Melbourne Recital Centre. Five years ago I was lucky enough to have a tour and experience the building the day before it opened to the public, thanks to local ABC radio. We even sang Happy Birthday in honour of Dame Elisabeth Murdoch after whom the main hall is named. Now I am working with a group of complete strangers to compose and perform a work on the Federation Handbells.

I've never played handbells before, let alone the special ones, but I figured that I was probably going to be at least as musical as anyone else joining in. Apart from the musical experience, I was curious about the process that would be used over only two workshops, each 2 and a half hours long, to make this happen.

I attended the first workshop last night, after a very long day and found myself being asked to have ideas. Ideas are one of the things I'm pretty good at having, but I had to work a bit harder to keep my brain switched on because I was mentally and physically exhausted after two days playing a bully. Switching on my creative brain proved to be invigorating and I'm pleased with the contribution I made.

There are about fourteen of us in the group, including the musical and the theatrical facilitators. Mostly women and one girl who I think would be about twelve years old. Most people contributed original ideas or enhanced another's idea in some way. We composed the whole first half of the performance. Our score is written in coloured felt tipped pens on a giant roll of butcher's paper laid out on the floor.

At the break, one of the women asked me if I was a "professional plant". I pictured myself as a rose bush, then a cactus and then I realised what she meant. I asked her what I would have been planted for and she said "to come up with ideas". I laughed and told her that that was just me playing. (I did have a brief worry that I had contributed too much, but no one in the group or either of the facilitators was giving me the oh-do-be-quiet-eye, so I relaxed.)

We will compose the second part tomorrow night and have our one and only dress rehearsal. I'm excited to be involved, but wish the forecast for Saturday was a bit easier to anticipate. The temperature is forecast to be 40 degrees Celsius on Saturday.

If you're in Melbourne, it's a good excuse to get out of the house early before it gets too hot. We'll be starting near Hamer Hall after 9am and arrive at the Recital Centre's front doors by 10am. If you're not in Melbourne there's no need to miss out! You can stream the festivities. Check on this page from 9am (Australian Eastern Daylight Time). Click here for more information about coordinating time zones.

That's all I can tell you.

Oh, and I'll be playing "E".

Status games - observations in the wild and closer to home.

One of the things I like to observe is the status of people. It's one of the first things you learn in theatre improvisation and it can be a quick way to create character. When facilitating groups, tuning into status can really help stay on top of a group's dynamics.

Walking across Princes Bridge today, I deliberately played high status. My path was on the left of the pathway and there was no one who was going to move me from my route. I said nothing, but people moved out of my way. I was even walking up behind some people going in the same direction as I was and they moved out of my way; again with no words from me and without seeing me. They could obviously "feel me". If I was playing low status, no one would move. Ever had an "invisible day"? That's low status.

One of the other interesting places to observe status - apart from the zoo -  is in the workplace. Some people are bestowed with status because of their title or job role. Sometimes their personal status might align with the hierarchical status; other times it might be at odds.  Think of the leader who is personally low status. They fail to command respect and won't last long. The person who is lowest in the hierarchy might have high status, however, and it's interesting to observe the dynamics that creates.

I'm thinking about this tonight because I've been watching  the television show "Survivor", which is another great place to observe status games playing out. How do people acquire their status? Do they naturally have high status? Will they be able to keep it? What are the thought processes and behaviours that emerge when someone is aware that their status has shifted?

There's a woman in the office of one of my clients who is dominant in the workplace, but I've had a hard time picking her status. I've decided that she is high status. Her role is middle on one consideration, but on another she wields power. In her mind, she appears as though she is the ruler of the roost. It's classic "head of the typing pool" syndrome.

She and I have had some interesting encounters. In the constructed hierarchy of this particular workplace, I know I have low status. However, I know that I personally carry high status. One of the things that gives me high status is that I don't care about the hierarchy. I just care about doing good work and getting on with people. Sometimes this gets me into trouble. Mostly, it serves me well and I'm consequently well-connected throughout the workplaces in which I move. I've observed that people with a misalignment between their status accorded them by the constructed hierarchy and their personal status, really don't know what to do about people who disregard their high status position.  They often want to lash out, but know they will be let down by their ultimate lack of authority. Or they will turn into bullies.

Another way to think about status is in terms of the "natural leader". Generally my observation is that people whom we perceive as natural leaders, carry high personal status.  Nelson Mandela is a good example - he was born with low status in his country (a black man in a country imposing apartheid) yet rose to be one of the most respected men and leaders in the world. One of the things he had was high personal status.

Recent Australian politicial history is interesting to consider through this lens of status. The last two leaders of the Australian Labor Party (Julia Gillard and Kevin Rudd) were both elevated to leader of the party and the country. Before their elevation, I would argue they had high status, but as soon as they were in the position, both lost their status.

Back to the particular woman in the client's workplace...she often stops talking when I enter the room. Recently, I heard my name said just before she stopped talking and responded from a high status position. I told her I heard my name and made strong eye contact with her. She said nothing further, but the person with whom she was speaking, made excuses of denial. Meanwhile, I said nothing (again, a high status move).  In another classic move, this woman "shooshed" me once when I was just talking to someone around the workplace. I looked her in the eye and told that her that I don't respond to "shooshing". She didn't respond.

I think that when relationships are functional, we hardly notice status at all. People just smoothly get on with it. The social satisfaction gained in this functional world will keep everyone humming along, usually until something changes, for example, someone new arrives. It's no wonder that "stranger comes to town" is one of the archetypal stories we've been telling down through the ages.

As a freelancer, I'm often the stranger coming to town, paid to observe and to challenge. To do this, I need to be secure and good willed. Mostly it works.

In the crowds of Christmas shoppers, it can be interesting (and useful) to play high status. Why not try it next time you're trying to go somewhere? Imagine you are the top dog, the big cheese, the king of the jungle and that you are entitled to take whatever path you choose. Carry this thought and make eye contact and watch people move out of your way! Have a go at doing the opposite and see what happens when your status is low.  Further fine tune your observation skills by studying the status people in your workplace hold. See if you can identify what it is that makes a person high or low status.

It can be a real eye-opener.

Under my skin - mockery in the group

This week I worked with a group that I found really challenging.  There was one man in particular who seemed to get under my skin and make me feel unsettled.

Initially I found him thoughtful.  He would wait until others had finished speaking and then quietly offer a considered opinion. His energy was calm at these moments. However, any activity or discussion that went for  more than about 15 minutes and he would be jiggling and fidgeting. The worst thing was that he then had this smirk on his face and would throw comments in that were only audible to the people sitting immediately near him.  They would all laugh and then no one would make eye contact with me.  I didn't know what was being said, but it didn't feel good.

During small group activities he continued this persona and it started to feel like mockery. The group around him seemed to like him and respond positively to whatever he was saying but he was actually taking the group away from their task.

He was doing my head in and I felt myself becoming snippy - I was sick to death of his smirking and just wanted to tell him to stop and take things seriously. I resisted.  No purpose would be served by putting my stuff on the table in front of the group. I did however ask him to speak up so the whole group could hear his contributions. That slowed down the flow of comments but didn't remove the smirk.

I spoke to my cofacilitator about it. She wasn't having the same issue with him but she described him as "taking the piss".  Yes!  That's exactly what it felt like.

Overnight I examined what it was about his behaviour that was rattling my wind chimes.  It was both simple and complex.  Simply, I felt like he was mocking me, doing it in such a way that I couldn't call him on it without losing my authority in the group.  On another level, the program was about leadership and the fact he didn't appear to be taking it seriously. He didn't have to be there. Sure, his employer had sent him, but it seemed that that was the only reason he was there.

Mockery is such a hard thing to deal with. It's a very effective way of putting someone off balance. Depending on the status of the person doing it within their group it can also be a weapon to wield or steal power.  I think the man I encountered this week was stealing power.

So I did nothing about it. Whenever he would do it, I went into neutral body stance, listened and then offered no comments. After doing this a few times, his behaviour shifted. His focus turned to his peer group.  It was almost as though he was looking to them for validation.  They continued to respond, but he was getting nothing from me.

After two days of this, I was exhausted. I reflected and continued to wonder what it was about him that I had reacted to, but I also congratulated myself on being aware and not engaging with his behaviour.

What gets under your skin? Who gets under your skin? What do you do about it?

Oh no - where's my CV?

Currently I'm working with a group of workers who have been subject to a restructure by their employer.  The employer is offering a series of workshops to assist them to get their resumes in order, reflect on their career plan and prepare for interview.

The typical profile of these people is that they have been with the one organisation long term - anywhere from twelve to thirty years; sometimes in the one role or part of the business.  People attending the workshops are experiencing a variety of emotions - some are angry, others feel betrayed, but most are quietly nervous and fearful.  They know they need to dust off their CV but don't really know how to do it.  They've been in the one place for so long they can't imagine themselves anywhere else.

The amazing thing is that as participants go beyond thinking about their skills and think about what they really value in life, there have been some big breakthroughs.  Chins start to wobble, lips thin and eyes start to fill with tears as realisations about how they don't really fit the place they've been in for the last decade or two.

I didn't know how much I was suppressing part of myself  while I worked for one organisation.  I was exercising one part of myself, but the other part lay dormant and actually had to be put away every day.  I'd put the armour on to the enter daily combat.  I didn't know it at the time; it was only after I left that I gained this perspective.  Friends told me that I was nicer to be around and it was great to see me be more like myself more of the time.

I find this experience is profound for me as well as I listen to them describe how they have to suppress their natural inclinations five days a week in order to fulfill the requirements of the job.  Worse, at the beginning of the workshops they tell me that they're wanting to apply for one of the new roles in the new structure.  By the end of the workshops they have the skills to do that but they're feeling uneasy because they know they should look outside.  I wonder whether they will?  Will they hold their resolve to be happy at work or will they succumb to the economic realities of a well-paying position and fight to hang on to something they don't really want?

I hope they hang on to their resolve, but I know that most won't and it will take the universe giving them a kick up the backside to make them act in their own true interests.  There is pain ahead, but at least they're equipped.

Are you in the right job?  What do you truly value?  Are your values and the values of the organisation for which you work aligned? If they're not, what do you need to do?

When the world's less than perfect - what's your reaction?

It's been a bit bumpy lately.  My work is taking me outside Melbourne regularly.  I'm often working in a place I've never seen and have had no influence or input into the arrangements.  As a hired gun, this is business as usual.

I was recently working with someone for the first time on a particular program.  It's a program with which I'm so familiar I can facilitate it without reference to any of the paperwork.  The program has many different styles of engaging people, involves three rooms and video cameras, delicate timing and a particular set up for all of the rooms.  I have no control over any of this, but the impact of getting it right or wrong is enormous.  Last week, we encountered problem after problem with just about every aspect of the logistics and resourcing. My cofacilitator was becoming increasingly frazzled as she tried to juggle the competing demands on her time during the brief window available to prepare everything before participants started to arrive.

These difficulties were frustrating me too, but I'm very clear about what I can control and the boundaries of my job.  As I sent the person with local responsibility away to resolve one of the issues, my colleague shook her head and asked me how I could just trust that the problem would be resolved.  On one hand, she had a point.  The local coordinator was the person who had not paid attention to all the detail, so in many respects the problems were created by them.  On the other hand, I had no capacity to do two jobs!  I had to let the person get on with what they needed to do.

I had no option but to trust that person.

At first glance it can seem that I work independently, but this is not correct;  I work in a team.  All of the people in that team have different roles and many of us are never in the same place together, yet we all rely on each other.  I need them to fulfill their roles or I can't fulfill mine.  If I fail to deliver then all their work is for nothing.

This week I'm somewhere different and again the world is not perfect.  Lots of little things are not as they should be.  I've got to fulfill my role anyway.  So I take a breath and relax and adjust to the world that it is, rather than resenting the fact it's not the world I need it to be.

Observing reactions of different people is really interesting.  I'm sure that my reactions now are very different from how they might have been a year or two ago.  Understanding what I can influence and what I need to accept is a great thing to have gained.

So what's your reaction?  What do you do when things aren't as they need to be?  Do you roll with it or do you shut down?  Or perhaps you get angry and frustrated?  What could you do instead?

Staying true in stormy seas - what's your mindset?

One of the things I often have to do when I'm facilitating is challenge people's thinking.  Depending on the person, the response can vary widely.  Some people will understand that the "poke" is designed to get them thinking, while others will react to the discomfort they feel.  Some of these people will react strongly and fight back.

I find the latter reactions are more common than the former. As my experience as a facilitator has grown, I've noticed that I'm quite comfortable challenging people and stay calm and focussed even when I'm being attacked.

Over the last two days I've been working with a group who were not used to being challenged.  It looked like their expectations of training courses was that they would be lulled to sleep by endless power point slides and they would walk out two days later pretty much unchanged by the experience.  The conversations I facilitate are not like that at all and the first day can be bumpy!

At the end of today, I was pleased to hear the changes in people's thinking.  One participant unexpectedly said that he appreciated being challenged and admired the way I had held the frame even when under attack from the group.  Music to my ears!

I've been thinking about how I do this.  I've realised that my mindset is everything.  Here's what I've observed:

1. I'm there to challenge and provoke thinking while keeping everyone safe.

2. My role is not to be liked and be friends with everyone in the room.

3. I am not part of the group; I am in service of the group.

4. Moving out of one's comfort zone is necessary for learning to occur.

5. Adults know what they have to do and know the answers.  The conditions just have to be right for them to discover this or make decisions to act.  My job is to create and maintain those conditions - they're going to be different for everyone.

6. My job is to support people to think.

As a fairly fast paced extrovert, one of the things I have to be vigilant about is that I'm adjusting my pace to allow slower paced people or introverts time and space to think and then answer.  Once my pace is adjusted, I need to work on staying present in the conversation (rather than thinking about how the person needs to hurry up, for example).

It's so satisfying when people highlight what they discovered.  Often they will thank me for that poke or prod I gave them that shoved them out of their comfort zone.  It's then that I am reminded that staying true in the stormy seas was the gift that I gave to the group.

Creative problem solving under pressure

I had a little lesson in the benefit of my thinking style last week.  It was a good one!

I was working with a client for whom I've been working in the leadership development space for the last year.  I'm very familiar with the particular program I was facilitating last week in Brisbane and I know that there are a lot of details that have to be in place before the session starts.  All of the materials associated with these details were in the care of my co-facilitator who works for the client.

As she climbed into the taxi we said hello and then she asked me if I wanted the good news or the bad news.  I always go for the bad news first.  It gives me perspective and the sooner I know what it is, I can start working on a solution to the problem.

There were two packages of materials - one came with her as checked baggage and the other was sent by the printer several days earlier.  Neither had arrived.  The checked baggage had been lost by the airline and the box from the printer was in transit.  We therefore had none of the resources to run the activities (including the very first one) and there were no participant manuals.

It was not ideal, but we had less than an hour before we would be in front of 15 participants expecting us to be in control.

Luckily I am a creative problem solver and have no problem coming up with ideas.  I didn't dwell on the obstacles and feel bad about the situation; instead I started creating.  Within fifteen minutes I had devised and alternative activity for the opening, as well as a plan of attack for the resources needed for later that day.

My co-facilitator approved.  We executed my alternative plan and all went well.  I learnt a lot.  It was important not to focus on the one thing I couldn't do anything about - the fact that the materials had not arrived.  It was important for me to have the confidence of my client so I could just get on and devise solutions.  Familiarity with the program's objectives also helped.

Of course, I would have preferred that everything had arrived on time and the program could run as intended.  You don't always get what you want.  I was pleased to be flexible and adaptable enough not to be choked the moment I faced an obstacle.  On reflection, I realised that I was exercising leadership and being a role model - they were all looking to me to make it work.  Sometimes practical examples are better than theory.  Feedback from participants reflected this.

What do you do in a crisis? Are you good at solving problems and being creative under pressure?

Q & A - this time it's me answering the questions.

Today's post is actually on another site.  I've been interviewed by the Maura Fay Group and you can read the result over on their blog.  (While you're there, why not have a look around?)

One of the things I do in my life is provide my services as a Senior Facilitator to the Maura Fay Group.  As a result I get to work with lots of interesting clients and have some wonderful conversations with people doing interesting work in all kinds of situations.

Today I was with Australia Post, having leadership conversations with the people who make sure we get our mail!  Here's what I could see through the window of the room we were in:

(c) divacultura 2012

As I drove home, I noticed a few posties returning on their bikes and many delivery vans.  I can't wait to pick up my latest yarn delivery and now I know some of the people who make sure it will arrive.

Facilitating in a virtual classroom.

Today I did something I've never done before.  I facilitated in a virtual classroom.  The students in the classroom were spread out over the Northern Territory and Western Australia and I was in my home in Melbourne!  Technology is providing some amazing opportunities and I'm quickly learning that the more versatile I am as a facilitator, the more people are likely to want to hire me.

In case you're wondering what a virtual classroom is, it's like a webinar, but this term usually applies to meetings, rather than learning situations.  There's a web based platform which provides the visual component and participants can interact by pointing, writing and highlighting.  This is accompanied by voice, either using VOIP (voice over internet protocol) or a good old fashioned conference call.  Web cams can also come into play and provide visibility of participants.

The material I was delivering today is material I am extremely familiar with.  I've been facilitating the program regularly in a face to face classroom situation over the last nine months.  Usually the program runs for a whole day, but in the virtual classroom it has been redesigned to be delivered as five 1 hour modules.  With some good design work and really thinking about the "essence" of each part, it's an impressive transition.

A few things made it really work for me today:

1. Early reminders for all participants about etiquette for participating.  Mostly this was similar to good practice for telephone conferences - say your name when you speak, use your mute button when you're not speaking.  It was up to me as facilitator to model good behaviour and gently, consistently, remind participants.  Years of practise chairing telephone conferences came in very handy!

2. Patience as participants learn how to use the platform.  It was important for me to have a thorough understanding too so that I could incorporate instructions regularly.

3.  A fear free approach to silence.  This learning environment requires some heavy duty multi-tasking for everyone.  Some people are better than others at doing this.  It's important to remember that participants need to hear the question, think about the question, come up with an answer and then use the tools to share their answer. All of this is happening in the silence.  In the facilitator's chair, the time taken before the first response appears can feel like hours.  To participants it's much shorter - they have a lot to do!

The word "facilitator" comes from the French word faciliter which means "to render easy" and from the Latin word facilis meaning "easy".  I always carry awareness of the meaning of the word with me as I approach any facilitation work.  Today, I really saw it come to life.  

The best thing of all was the level of engagement among the group.  Incredible, considering how far apart we all were!

Are you harnessing technology to support your people in creative and effective ways?  

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?