A while back, I had an idea. Actually, the idea came off the back of attending The Do Lectures and a little reframing I was doing with my note-taking at the time. I realised that I could distil a talk down to one takeaway, sort of like an Oblique Strategy, that could then be used for shifting how I was thinking.
Originally, because I do like a pun, I called them DOblique Strategies and was only going to use The Do Lecture talks as the basis for each ‘card’. That didn’t quite work out as I had planned so instead I invested some money and had a small site designed and built.
Shift Strategies doesn’t get as much attention from me as maybe it should; however, it’s a useful tool that I return to now and again when my thinking gets stuck. I was even interviewed for the WB-40 podcast from Matt Ballantine and Chris Weston, in which Matt used the strategies as the basis for interview questions. You can listen to episode 85 of the WB-40 podcast to hear me talk about the project and use the cards to open that discussion into other areas. Proof, if you needed it, that they can work.
To keep things fresh on these lockdown days, so I’ve returned to the site each day to pull a card from the virtual deck. Today’s was a good one.
Have a play yourself and see what inspiration comes up for you. Clicking on the presenter’s name will lead you to a video of their talk, if it’s available, or at the very least more information on the conference from which the talk was experienced.
Okay, so a slight lie as I’m typing this on my phone. However, it’s only the third time I have picked up my phone today, and laptop has remained shut.
I took the day off from writing my assignment; it’s good to give my head some space so that when I get back to it tomorrow I’ll know what to keep and what to ditch. Space helps.
Instead of screen time, which had until today been rising exponentially due to being kept inside, I cleaned the bathroom and kitchen from top to bottom. A proper deep clean. And the windows inside and out. Oh, and I put new elements into my toaster to see it through another 15 years.
I also read some magazines, as they’ve been stacking up unread as they’re not about systems thinking.
Probably been the most relaxing yet busy weekend I’ve had in a long time. Can’t believe there’s still another day left of the weekend.
I can recall when, back in March 2006, that I began to fall out of love with the thing that had, up until that point, been a reason to get out of bed. It happened one evening, after work, in a small, overly hot room, on the City University campus near Silver Street, Islington.
I began to fall out of love with writing.
Ever since my college days I’d written, for pleasure. In 1996, facing unemployment, I turned a hobby into a job, which then became a career. By day I was a copywriter for large, global brands; in my downtime I wrote poetry, short stories, headlines, opinion pieces and whatever else I wanted. Much of it was poor, but some of it was worthy of publication (as judged by an editor).
However, I got stuck. The corporate writing was reducing me down to a small vocabulary. Structure overtook prose. Which is fine – no one wants to wade through poetic language when it comes to buying their next car (or perhaps they would?) and ideas became my stock in trade rather than the words themselves. So, I signed up for a short story course. 10 weeks. 25 other writers.
I was excited. So much so I took myself off across London after a day of writing and meetings and more writing, to learn how to get better at my craft. To sit among other writers reading their output, offering critical but helpful advice within the group.
And that was when it happened.
That moment I began to fall out of love with writing.
I’d written a short story. I was experimenting with tone and style. It didn’t go down well with the group. While the teacher gave me some great feedback, one person said to me, out loud, “This is shit, I couldn’t be bothered to read it.”
Then someone else chimed in with, “Why are you bringing this nonsense to the group?”
I remember my eyes prickling with tears. Was it that bad? Was the teacher just being nice, or had I actually written a shocker? Or were the other students projecting?
It didn’t matter. I got up from my seat, thanked everyone and left. I didn’t go back for the final two sessions, although I had apparently done enough to ‘pass’ the course and received a certificate in the post.
The next day I went to work. I didn’t write anything in my notebook on the commute, like I had done every day before. In fact, I never picked up my notebook again. That’s how I know the date so well.
For six years, I still wrote for work. Yet, I often found that my heart wasn’t in it. And then after working for a particularly overbearing person who beat what little self esteem I had for words out of me on a daily basis, I stopped entirely.
Over the subsequent years, I’ve blogged but my output has largely been for work purposes. I’ve not written for pleasure. I’ve given up.
Since then, I’ve found myself being critical of my writing before I’ve even put pen to paper, or fingertips to keyboard.
Today, I decided enough is enough. If ever there was a time for change, it is now. My study is slowing down as I come to the end of my first module. I am stuck at home, not just because of the lockdown but because of my underlying health conditions.
Today, enough is enough. I should write for me, not for anyone else. I should simply get the words out. It doesn’t matter if they get read, if anyone cares. They’ll be terrible to begin with, but after a while they’ll get better. And better.
There is but one good way to get over a writer’s block and that is to write. To not overthink things. To simply let fingers and words flow. To not concern myself with ideas on the perfect length of a blog post, or whether this word is right or if it should be that one instead; I only need to write and write and write. Every day.
I’m a little over halfway through my first module on my MSc in Systems Thinking in Practice. It’s fascinating, enjoyable and frustratingly hard to grasp sometimes. Like all good learning.
While at Cardstock last month, I was in conversation with the erudite Mr Herdmeister, Mark Earls, and we were talking about communications and constructivism and my recent decision to start studying. As things occasionally do, I happened to have read a paragraph on appreciative systems by Geoffrey Vickers from 1970. I mentioned how it could have been written the previous day, or even right then and there (had I been even a tiny bit as amazing as Vickers was 50 years ago!)
So, I snapped a photo of the paragraph and sent it to Mark, as he was as taken with what it said as I was. It’s posted below.
I add no further comment right now. I will just leave it with you to ponder. You can also see more references to delve into should it spark some thoughts you’d like to dig into.
Excerpt taken from Blackmore, C (2009) Social Learning Systems and Communities of Practice, Springer, London and The Open University, Milton Keynes.
I wasn’t really sure how to look over the year that’s almost over. It has been a mixed bag in terms of work and personal achievements. Then I considered that perhaps it’s better to avoid presenting life as a series of successes and just document it as it was experienced and how I felt about it.
Below, in no particular order, are some of the lessons I’ve learned as I’ve navigated the past 11 months and 20 days. It’s just luck there are 25 in the list, there’s no conceit.
My work does, well, work. I’ve helped organisations do good things; to innovate and work in ways that they didn’t find comfortable but were ultimately rewarding, and at least one agency to win more work, and a clutch of awards.
I like to make my clients famous rather than myself; famous is subjective, so I’ll clarify that I mean they are seen as successful even if it’s my work that has achieved that – as long as they’ve paid for it
My mental health is not bettered by surrounding myself with people that are dealing with similar challenges to me
I’ve felt lost quite a bit throughout the year with regards to my work, and to a lesser degree my overall purpose; I still have no definite answers so will keep reflecting on this as 2020 progresses
I should have begun a period of study some years ago. I’m now at the very beginning of my MSc in Systems Thinking in Practice and very much enjoying both the theory and the praxis that I’m building out.
I’ve done 24 workshops this past year. Most were successful, with one or two that on reflection could have been better for various reasons
Recruiting people to attend workshops isn’t worth the effort; people say yes but rarely commit. It’s disheartening and so there will not be any more workshops unless they are delivered to an organisation or within a scope of work
I miss working alongside someone who I feel is better than me and from whom I can learn
I never want a full-time job again, but I’d really like something that’s ongoing over a longer period (one or two days a week for 3 months, for example) or a block of time dedicated to one project (six months to design a new service or product, for example).
I am less interested in the production of a ‘thing’ than I am in the origination and initial development of a ‘thing’
Shorter projects I like are ones that involve defining where things could go next. I am good at getting things kickstarted again, or helping find new paths to take.
Mentoring is fun. I’ve had some great successes this year. I would like to do more, but to be paid for my time if it’s to sustain my interest and ability to deliver meaningful shifts.
People say yes because they think they should; it’s more of a let down when they then fail to follow through on a promise. Say no if you can’t, or won’t. It’s better to say no than to let someone down later on. Or ghost them.
It’s tougher to move away from what you’re known for than it would seem; some of this is limiting beliefs, some of it is how others perceive you (and introduce you to others) and some of it is a lack of perceived experience
If you remove yourself from social media you effectively disappear from the world. This makes it much more difficult when you then need to be seen beyond your immediate circle of friends, or your close network.
Could is better than should
I’m lucky to have a good circle of friends and the support of my immediate family. Without them I couldn’t have coped with the lows or reached the highs.
Travelling around Europe on trains for 22 days with your wife and daughter is fantastic, yet it’s not something any of us would want to repeat any time soon
My physical health continues to improve, although a bout of pneumonia can really set me back
I should read more in the day time. Non-fiction, specifically. The more I give over to my studying, the more I learn that using the ideas within books as a lens through which to view past work/experiences is the way to personal and professional growth. Books could also be switched out for conversations, or seminars, or conferences. Choosing wisely is the key to unlocking that potential
Spend more time away from screens
Broaden my musical tastes, including listening to things I might normally go out of my way to avoid. This could also apply to life experiences in general.
Don’t read the news. It’s not designed to improve anyone’s mental health – although it could be.
Only offer advice if it’s asked for. Only listen to advice if you’ve requested it.
Write more. Write as if no one is reading (they probably aren’t!)
This is my list. It might not resonate because it’s mine. I’ve edited it down to the most important things I want to take away from this past year. I’m open to discussing any or all of the things on this list.
1. Yes, the featured image is a picture of a kitten. One of the two we’ve rescued from the Cats Protection League, the offspring of an abandoned cat. However, this post is not about kittens, it’s just a good way to get your attention. Worked, right?
The title might also be a little misleading, too; however, I believe that I can get away with it in relation to the subject matter: training and learning.
2. Since I moved away from the linear environment of advertising, I’ve been embedding myself in cultures that encourage and reward experimentation, iteration and a more ‘agile’ way of working. The training has been what can be best described as ‘on the job’ – that is, nothing formal and a lot of failing along the way. It’s been great, if challenging at times.
Since going out on my own, the opportunities to learn haven’t
dropped off. What has happened is that chances to experiment fall away; clients
expect structure and known outcomes a lot of the time and so creativity and testing
hypothesis only comes in the initial stages. Which is fine.
It’s meant I’ve had to carve out time to learn. Not having
to be in an office every day – or any day, tbh – makes this reasonably easy to
do. The difficulty comes from justifying it to myself. Time spent not earning always
feels like it’s wrong.
A BBC
article from 2017 illustrates a lot of what’s wrong with formal training
within organisations, mostly that it’s generic and no one follows up. Many
managers either don’t know what their staff are learning, or aren’t aware of
what they’d like to learn. One size fits all won’t cut it, something I know I
felt when I experienced a training day on creativity within an agency environment.
Similarly, in a Forbes
article from 2015, they suggest that, “Companies don’t train employees
in the skills most critical to the business’s stage of development. They send
the wrong people to the training, over-train them and spend too little time on
implementation.” Add to this the fact that learning and development
(L&D) is usually the first department to suffer cuts when companies want to
save money, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.
However, I know that the days I’ve been away from the earning and into the learning have been worth it. Especially those that have taken me outside of my core knowledge. Here are some examples of learning I’ve undertaken that aren’t part of the day job but have proved to be most useful.
Playing with the unknown I saw Steve Chapman talk at a conference. I felt an immediate connection, in that he was up for not knowing, playing around with uncertainty and generally happy being uncomfortable. We got chatting and he told me about his venture, The Lab. It’s an afternoon of playing with the unknown. A bit like improv, a little bit like a bunch of people messing about for the sake of it, and a lot like a scientific lab experiment. It’s one of the most enjoyable things I participate in, yet it’s got very little to do with my work, on the surface.
What I learn in The Lab, is the ability to let go of bias,
assumptions and throw myself into something without even knowing if the outcome
will be either enjoyable or useful. Very often it’s both, and even when it isn’t
I come away learning something.
There’s a lot to be said about what you know, but there’s more interest in seeking out the areas that you don’t know, to expand knowledge and experience. There are things I’ve seen at The Lab that I’ve incorporated into my working practice, and I know that one of the things I’ve brought along has been picked up and formed the basis of a very good book at dealing with fear.
Presenting You might think that after a long career in advertising and marketing that I’d got the presenting lark down pat. And to a degree, I have. I like presenting. I enjoy pitching to people. However, as I’m an advocate of continuous learning it would be remiss of me not to follow my own advice.
And so I booked myself on Mark Shayler’s Present Like You Know You Can course recently. And yes, I did good on the actual presenting, but I can tell you now, I learned some super smart techniques that I didn’t know beforehand and I got a lovely boost of confidence along the way. I’ve recommended this course to a few people, and now I can confirm it’s a great way to find your voice, hone some skills in telling a story – yours or someone else’s – and Mark will give you some superb tips and structures to use. Plus a whistle-stop tour of his music preferences from the late 1980’s to date.
Manual of Me and Clear Path Forward Okay, the first one is a bit of cheat as I originated this structure for myself. Leapers took it on and made an online tool – although I’ve since found that it’s easy to write it up here and ignore it (partly my fault, I’ll acknowledge). Being purposeful around continually updating how I work with others, as well as running a number of external and internal workshops with groups, has been incredibly fruitful.
And it was through Leapers that I met Mike Tannenbaum. A
genuinely open and fascinating individual to chat to, Mike created an online
course called Clear Path Forward,
which is now FREE, for individuals seeking to improve their working lives, the
work they do and the way they work with others. It’s a simple thing, but it’s
incredibly rewarding if you put in the effort. And you should.
Mentoring A strange choice, you might think, for a post on training. This is LEARNING and DEVELOPMENT. Mentoring others is one of the best ways to get some empathy into your daily lives. You learn a lot about how other people think, you get to discuss, openly, how to go about solving those challenges. You get to look over past choices you’ve made and ponder if they unlocked things in a way that would be helpful for another person.
In fact, I’d go as far as say that mentoring is the best
form of training there is.
I’m lucky that I’m part of the Who’s Your Momma London
mentoring scheme. Through this I get to spend time with seriously creative
people, all of whom are women (aside from, I think, four other men) and it’s
been one of the best things I’ve ever done. I also mentor individuals outside of
this scheme and each time it’s opened my eyes to new ways of working, new ideas
and thrown a spotlight on some biases I was perhaps choosing to ignore.
If you can’t mentor, find time for coffee with people who don’t fit the profile of your work colleagues, friends or family. Chat with no agenda. Come away truly enriched.
3. If we’re doing reasons to be cheerful, there has to be a third thing here. Which brings me to my latest learning adventure.
As I’ve noted, there’s a lot to be said about informal learning – whether attending conferences, reading books, just trying things out and prototyping to see what happens. There, however, comes a time when the need to formalise these things, to solidify all the ideas and concepts that I’ve been exploring over the past five years through Formation London. To create a meaningful shift in myself, my practice and my direction. Essentially, to do for myself what I (hopefully) do for others.
And so, I signed up to do an MSc through the wonderful Open University. I’ll be heading towards a Masters in Systems Thinking In Practice. Already I’ve been reading books and articles and I have a lot more learning to be doing over the next three years.
You’ll see from the list of books in this photo that I’m reading around my subject. Specifically, Neil Perkin’s latest book is brilliantly aligned with both what I do and what I’m studying. It’s what we tend to call the digital age; it’s what I refer to as modernity. It’s how we live now.
As part of my Masters I have to blog. Mostly on the OU
platform, but I’m hoping it’ll also spill out here. I’ve been needing things to
think and talk about out loud.
Feel free to send me examples of training that you’ve done and think is worthwhile. Any resources you think might be useful for my Masters also welcomed.
Okay, here’s another kitten pic. The other kitten. Thanks for reading.
Almost eight years ago I began a side project, My Earliest Memory.
It’s been featured on a few radio stations, had submissions from all over the world and been the catalyst for at least one art exhibition.
I don’t purposefully chase submissions; in fact, I often forget about the project these days until a submission suddenly drops into my inbox. In the days of everyone wanting to be an ‘influencer’ or ‘internet famous’ I’m happy to be slowly building up this archive.
Lots of people tell me there’s a book there. I’m not so sure. Why print it when it’s available all the time, the majority as a Tumblr site (until that particular platform finally closes its doors, which today feels like it can’t be far away – one of the reasons I popped it on a server I have control over).
That said, I also consider closing it down. Not removing it, just not updating it even if new memories drop in (like one did today). However, I’d be denying that memory an audience (even if that audience is just me).
I looked back over the archive earlier, randomly clicking and reading. There are some gems on there. Some very sad moments. Some joyous. Some mundane. Others silly, profound, or incomprehensible.
I’ve been a bit productive with things. For once. Manual of Me workshops, strategic work in the life sciences sector that’s seen me over the US. All good stuff.
Even so, I’ve been keeping an eye on what Matthew Knight has been doing with his ‘huru’ project to highlight mental health for non-permanent workers. People like me. Possibly also people like you, or people you know.
Huru is a Swahili word meaning free. Or so it says on the Slack channel I’m plugged into that feeds into Matthew’s work. Apparently it also means ‘to fall’ in Japanese. It’s got feels, too, this word.
Regardless of all that, the work he’s doing is super important. And your views would be welcomed, if you are one of those remote, freelance, permalance, contract workers. You can take the survey here: https://leapers.co/huru/r/take-part
If you’re an agency or company that uses, or even relies, on these types of workers, maybe get involved.
And if you can amplify the message, getting more people to fill in the survey, that would also be excellent. The more voices feeding in, the better. Because that will help turn the thinking into action. Which is the next step.
A lot seems to have happened in 2019. To other people, not me. I’ve mostly been spending my days cooped up inside, feeling ill and not able to work or be sociable.
Given the situation I’ve found myself in, it’s not surprising that I’ve been thinking a lot about the future and how I can make things work for me, and for me to work.
Part of that is to find things that rely less on being somewhere for days at a time, and focusing instead on areas in which I can add some value in shorter bursts. One of these is designing and running one-day training/discovery workshops – something I enjoy immensely.
Since I wrote about creating my own Manual of Me, it’s been something lots of other people have asked about. And while there’s been an online ‘tool’ from the Leapers community that can be used by anyone, it would appear there is a need for a more practical way of learning about your authentic self and how to present that within a working environment.
So I made one. It’s happening in London on 28 March 2019.
While this iteration of the MoM workshop is aimed at individuals, there is also a ‘team’ version that can be run for internal departments and teams. It differs in that it’s designed to, well, work for teams.
So, that’s my plan for Q1. Run a couple of workshops. Test, learn, iterate. Run some more. Maybe I’ll see you on one? I hope so.
Related, in some ways, is the work of Pilvi Takala. If you’ve not seen her The Trainee installation, it’s a hugely rewarding work.
If you’ve read this far, then you deserve a little thank you. Use the code ‘Leapers’ to get a HUGE discount on a ticket for the London workshop.
I haven’t put anything here for a few months. And there’s a reason. I’ve been concentrating on other things, specifically work, but also family and my own wellbeing and growth. So, before I start to post some things again (which will happen over the coming days and weeks and months), I thought it worth a brief round-up on some highlights.
Noise reduction I realised recently that there was a lot of noise in my life. While some of this was of my own doing, not all of it was. I turned down the volume on distractions by deleting some apps from my phone. No more Twitter and LinkedIn, or Slack on my phone. These are things that I dip into very infrequently. Mentally, I’m certainly better for it. I may have missed out on some things, but I’m fairly certain it doesn’t actually matter.
IRL I’ve continued to meet people in real life. Chatting over coffee, or sitting down planning things out, or even making stuff. It’s been great. I wholeheartedly recommend doing more of it.
I attended Inexpert 2018, a conference that wasn’t a conference but a social experiment from the inimitable Steve Chapman. It was baffling, brilliant and batshit bonkers all in one day. I learned very little, but I learned a lot.
I visited the Royal Institution at the invitation of a client, to see the Faraday Museum and also to hear a lecture from Geoff Mulgan of NESTA about Collective Intelligence, the subject of his latest book. The talk was fascinating in some respects, and yet also felt like Geoff was stating the obvious in others. Not a bad thing, pointing out what it obvious – more of us should do it. While there is no video of his lecture on that day, you can view his talk from the RSA:
I continue to spend time exploring my practice, by booking The Lab, but also through further coaching. Recently, I was lucky to be invited to do Mark Shayler’s latest workshop, How To Be More You. Many good things to come out of this over the next few months. When he holds his next one, I’d recommend you go.
Work standards My mind has mostly been occupied with client projects. I’ve been lucky to have been working with the Laboratory of the Government Chemist, or LGC as they are known. Specifically, I’ve spent time with the Standards division. As someone who studied Environmental Management at university, this is a dream client for me.
I’ve been helping them with some brand strategy, as well as building and leading a team to improve their experience design. A smart bunch of people who are going through the tough transformation journey, and I’m super excited to be a small part of that journey. It also means I get to work alongside the lovely We Launch, and sees me bouncing between Teddington, Fitzrovia and Bury a fair bit.
Some of the initial output that is live is on a rebrand of pharmaceutical reference standard, Mikromol, which you can see in the updated brochure. All design is by We Launch.
If you’re wondering what LGC Standards do, well they ensure the quality of things like food, beverages, our water, medicines and even toys. In their foyer, they have the original handwritten test for determining whether coffee is actually coffee, or if it’s chicory.
Walking, a work and leisure exercise
As part of the work I’m doing with Dewi Uridge, I went on a walk with his Urban Baler, to capture conversation around the idea of design and community, specifically focused on the overlap between rural farming and urban design thinking.
Dewi graduates from Goldsmiths in June, and his work is featured on the Goldsmiths site – plus you can come to the MOD BA Design show in June. We are now looking at taking this initial work forward together, as part of a workshop series, as well as using it build Dewi’s next venture, a workshop and maker space in Sussex.
He’s definitely one to watch.
As part of my continuing rehabilitation from lung cancer, I’ve been out getting fit. I’ve started swimming regularly (despite not having swum since I was eight years old) and also walking as much as possible. I’m covering around 20 miles a week now, but I’m always looking to do more – so chats while walking (with coffee stops along the way) are starting to be built into my working practice more and more.
Getting out more London is great, but nothing beats getting out of its cultural orbit to experience something different. I spent 10 days in Yorkshire, just outside Holmfirth. Best known as the location for Last of the Summer Wine, the BBC sitcom (which I admit I didn’t watch), it was also a hotbed of small businesses doing great things. One of those was Lost and Found Interiors, run by James.
Not only did I spend some good money with James, the couple of hours we spent chatting about design and starting and maintaining a rural business was quality time spent. Go visit James if you’re up in the area, or pop by his online shop.
As I mentioned before, I’ve also been in Bury for work this year. Bloom Coffee is a great spot there, one that plenty of London coffee shops could learn a lot from in terms of ambience, food quality and customer service.
So, that’s why I’ve been quiet. Because I’ve been anything but.
