This week I was engaged in an interesting conversation with three successful 50-something women. Each woman is a mother to accomplished grown-up children, and they all have friends who have equally accomplished children. Their children are currently on a journey to become qualified as doctors or lawyers having achieved academic, music and / or sporting success whilst at school.
I listened to stories of children who had belonged to the National Youth Theatre, or played three instruments and had achieved Grade 8 by the time they were in their early teens. Each mother had ensured that their children were given the opportunity to excel through extra-curricular activities. As successful women themselves, they could be considered as role models to their children – a fact that should be celebrated.
During our conversation, I reflected about a friend whose 8 year old boy now was engaged in four after-school activities. Each one developed some kind of social or sporting skill (eg Scouts, swimming) and she wholly supported her son’s involvement in these activities. But she had recently realised that she had become one of those mums who was constantly ferrying her son about. He was hardly at home to just “play” with his sister or his friends. And she was acutely aware that her younger daughter will soon want (and expect) the same. She pondered with me about how this had happened?
Whilst we want the best for our children, are we in fact pressuring them to achieve too much at such a young age? The women I spent time with this week were concerned that their children might have their mid-life crisis in their mid-20s. As young adults who had experienced such levels of achievement already in their lives, there is a possibility that as they enter the world of work they might experience disappointment or dissatisfaction with life. Or will these 20-somethings have a sense of confidence, drive and a core belief that they know that they can achieve that will enable them to become leaders of society that will make us all proud?
I think that only hindsight will give us this answer. For now, I will continue to give my children the best opportunities with a measure of balance.
Friday 29 January 2010
Tuesday 26 January 2010
Pushing the Boundaries of Competence
We all like to be in our "comfort zone". The place where everything is safe and we confident in what we say and do. However, it is well recognised that for a person to grow, they need to be in their "learning zone". This is the place where an individual is undertaking activities that are just beyond the "comfort zone".
But how large is our individual "learning zone". Do we know when we've crossed over the boundary into the zone of incompetence?
I reflected on this recently as I completed a small project for a client. I have undertaken a range of assignments with this client, mostly using the same set of skills and knowledge. However, they asked me some months ago to undertake a specific project where I had limited knowledge. I declared this lack of knowledge from the start, but they felt that I had the appropriate skills and abilities.
There were times during the project when I was aware that I was being stretched. I was aware of what I didn't know. As a result, I used my judgement and called upon the experts when I needed help. The project was completed timely and the client was pleased with my delivery.
However, I have observed many managers and employees who have been required to work well beyond their learning zone without expert support or advice. Over a period of time, this sustained requirement to work beyond their abilities has lead to incompetence. The reasons behind this might have been either due to poor recruitment, or poor development as roles have significant changed. But the impact on the individual can be destructive both on a personal and professional level.
Having the insight to realise which zone you are currently in (the comfort, learning or beyond) is important. This allows you to make the right decisions about how you manage your work and relationships. It will either push you to raise your game, or to seek alternatives options that will prove more beneficial to you and your organisation in the long-term. Make a conscious decision about how you want to manage your learning.
But how large is our individual "learning zone". Do we know when we've crossed over the boundary into the zone of incompetence?
I reflected on this recently as I completed a small project for a client. I have undertaken a range of assignments with this client, mostly using the same set of skills and knowledge. However, they asked me some months ago to undertake a specific project where I had limited knowledge. I declared this lack of knowledge from the start, but they felt that I had the appropriate skills and abilities.
There were times during the project when I was aware that I was being stretched. I was aware of what I didn't know. As a result, I used my judgement and called upon the experts when I needed help. The project was completed timely and the client was pleased with my delivery.
However, I have observed many managers and employees who have been required to work well beyond their learning zone without expert support or advice. Over a period of time, this sustained requirement to work beyond their abilities has lead to incompetence. The reasons behind this might have been either due to poor recruitment, or poor development as roles have significant changed. But the impact on the individual can be destructive both on a personal and professional level.
Having the insight to realise which zone you are currently in (the comfort, learning or beyond) is important. This allows you to make the right decisions about how you manage your work and relationships. It will either push you to raise your game, or to seek alternatives options that will prove more beneficial to you and your organisation in the long-term. Make a conscious decision about how you want to manage your learning.
Friday 22 January 2010
Teaching our children how to behave
As I drove home from work today, I was listening to the radio. Today, the news leads with the story about two brothers who tortured two young boys in Edlington in South Yorkshire. Details have emerged of the brother's upbringing, that they suffered domestic abuse from a violent father and other contributory factors that led them to believe that they could behave in such an awful way to another person.
I feel strongly about the importance of teaching my children the difference between right and wrong, and the key principle that it is important to behave nicely towards others. This evening, as my daughter was having her bath, I seized the opportunity to discuss this important life lesson with her.
I asked her "What is the most important thing to remember when you're with another person?" The response, "To be nice to each other". Whilst this is incredibly simplistic, at the age of 4, I'm pleased that my daughter knew the right answer to my question.
I then went on to tell her that I had a difficult day: somebody at work had been "mean" to me. We discussed how this had made me sad, and angry.
My daughter asked, "What did you do?"
I replied, "I told someone very important". I didn't think that I could explain the concept of client-contractor relationship to my four year old.
She asked, "Did you tell a teacher?" I replied, "Yes".
My daughter then enquired, "Did you tell this person that they have been mean to you?"
I explained, "Not today, but I will. I'm trying to find the right words". In otherwords, I was trying to find a way to express myself appropriately, professionally.
And as my daughter hugged me, she said "It's important that you tell them that they have been mean to you."
This was a watershed moment: For the first time, I have shared a work-issue with my daughter. She responded by showing understanding for the issue and giving me support (as much as can be expected from a four year old). The conversation echoed many of those that we have had before but when the issue was about other kids that have mean to her.
So, I feel not only comforted by our conversation on a personal level, but reassured that my daughter is developing a strong moral compass. I will continue to keep teaching how to behave, and I hope that we, as a society, find a way to ensure that all children are brought up learning this lesson.
I feel strongly about the importance of teaching my children the difference between right and wrong, and the key principle that it is important to behave nicely towards others. This evening, as my daughter was having her bath, I seized the opportunity to discuss this important life lesson with her.
I asked her "What is the most important thing to remember when you're with another person?" The response, "To be nice to each other". Whilst this is incredibly simplistic, at the age of 4, I'm pleased that my daughter knew the right answer to my question.
I then went on to tell her that I had a difficult day: somebody at work had been "mean" to me. We discussed how this had made me sad, and angry.
My daughter asked, "What did you do?"
I replied, "I told someone very important". I didn't think that I could explain the concept of client-contractor relationship to my four year old.
She asked, "Did you tell a teacher?" I replied, "Yes".
My daughter then enquired, "Did you tell this person that they have been mean to you?"
I explained, "Not today, but I will. I'm trying to find the right words". In otherwords, I was trying to find a way to express myself appropriately, professionally.
And as my daughter hugged me, she said "It's important that you tell them that they have been mean to you."
This was a watershed moment: For the first time, I have shared a work-issue with my daughter. She responded by showing understanding for the issue and giving me support (as much as can be expected from a four year old). The conversation echoed many of those that we have had before but when the issue was about other kids that have mean to her.
So, I feel not only comforted by our conversation on a personal level, but reassured that my daughter is developing a strong moral compass. I will continue to keep teaching how to behave, and I hope that we, as a society, find a way to ensure that all children are brought up learning this lesson.
Tuesday 19 January 2010
Achieving Fulfilment from the Present
Until a couple of years ago, I had a long-term life goal. I have written about this before, but just to recap:
I entered the workplace in 1997. I had a 10 year career goal: it defined key stages, with the ultimate goal being the appointment to the role of Director of Human Resources. I am pleased to report that I did achieve this goal, but was quickly dissolutioned. Partly, although my strategy was on track, I don't think I really believed that I would achieve my goal. And once I did, I thought - if I knew what I knew now, I perhaps wouldn't have been so ambitious and taken more time out along the way.
Another long-term goal I want to share with you was one that I had whilst I was at school. At 11, I decided that I wanted to be house-captain: an appointment that is made upon entering the final year at age 17. I planned my strategy: I was involved in all house activities that enabled me to be appointed to the house committee at 16 (there were only 4 of us on the committee), and only those on the committee were eligible to be appointed house captain a year later. I worked hard that year, and I deserved the appointment. However, although the appointments were supposedly made in a beaurocratic manner, the "leaders" at the school didn't like the outcome of selection process for Head Girl. As a consolation prize, she was appointed House Captain and I was robbed. I cried for 24 hours. And I learnt a harsh lesson.
I think that these two life experiences have influenced my current thinking. I observed a few months ago that I didn't have any long term goals, and that, in fact, I was OK about this. However, I've subsequently realised, I do have goals, it's just that they're more centred in the present:
1. To provide a stable economic and emotional home.
2. To be a role model for my children
3. To be in a position whereby I can retire comfortably (in another 25 years) and be able to own a second home
Everything I do is now based around these "guiding principles" as I prefer to call them. For example, I am a govenor at my children's preschool. This not only provides me with professional development, but I regularly have to speak publically at events. This role is important to me, as I demonstrate confidence and community involvement to my daughter.
So, I think that I've learnt that instead of always aiming for long-term goals, I'm seeking more fulfillment in my day-to-day activities. Instead of always wanting more, I'm satisfied with what I currently have. And as a result, I am a happier mother, wife and coach.
I entered the workplace in 1997. I had a 10 year career goal: it defined key stages, with the ultimate goal being the appointment to the role of Director of Human Resources. I am pleased to report that I did achieve this goal, but was quickly dissolutioned. Partly, although my strategy was on track, I don't think I really believed that I would achieve my goal. And once I did, I thought - if I knew what I knew now, I perhaps wouldn't have been so ambitious and taken more time out along the way.
Another long-term goal I want to share with you was one that I had whilst I was at school. At 11, I decided that I wanted to be house-captain: an appointment that is made upon entering the final year at age 17. I planned my strategy: I was involved in all house activities that enabled me to be appointed to the house committee at 16 (there were only 4 of us on the committee), and only those on the committee were eligible to be appointed house captain a year later. I worked hard that year, and I deserved the appointment. However, although the appointments were supposedly made in a beaurocratic manner, the "leaders" at the school didn't like the outcome of selection process for Head Girl. As a consolation prize, she was appointed House Captain and I was robbed. I cried for 24 hours. And I learnt a harsh lesson.
I think that these two life experiences have influenced my current thinking. I observed a few months ago that I didn't have any long term goals, and that, in fact, I was OK about this. However, I've subsequently realised, I do have goals, it's just that they're more centred in the present:
1. To provide a stable economic and emotional home.
2. To be a role model for my children
3. To be in a position whereby I can retire comfortably (in another 25 years) and be able to own a second home
Everything I do is now based around these "guiding principles" as I prefer to call them. For example, I am a govenor at my children's preschool. This not only provides me with professional development, but I regularly have to speak publically at events. This role is important to me, as I demonstrate confidence and community involvement to my daughter.
So, I think that I've learnt that instead of always aiming for long-term goals, I'm seeking more fulfillment in my day-to-day activities. Instead of always wanting more, I'm satisfied with what I currently have. And as a result, I am a happier mother, wife and coach.
Friday 15 January 2010
Having "Grit" vs Being Tenacious
This week I've been spending some time thinking about "Grit". I'm not talking about the state of our roads and the snow that has challenged our daily lives over the last month, but our ability to see things through to completion.
I first started to think about "Grit" after reading this month's Thinking Woman's Coach Newsletter. It lead me on journey to help me understand how I'm feeling at the moment
For the last few weeks, it's been impossible to avoid all the inspirational and motivational blogs, articles, emails on setting objectives and goals for the New Year. (And yes, I did post a similar article myself on Minerva's Mind just before the New Year.) These articles are all very upbeat, bright and sparkly. This is exactly the opposite of how I feel.
For me, the New Year starts in March. For the next month I have a mountain of work to get through (all carried over from before Christmas) before I head off for three weeks in Australia. I return from my big trip at the start of March: this is when I'll be able to start thinking ahead about what I want to achieve for the year. The vast amount of work ahead over the next three weeks is overwhelming and I'm under a lot of pressure (mostly self-inflicted).
What is keeping me going - is it my "Grit"? When I took Martin Seligman's "Grit" survey (http://www.authentichappiness.sas.upenn.edu), I discovered that I have only average levels of "Grit". At first I was disappointed, but then I considered the issue further:
I consider myself to be tenacious: tenacity can be another word for "Grit". I love the word and frequently use it in job specifications. Tenacity is a postive behvioural trait. But can too much tenacity become what others consider to be obstructive behaviour? Does a high score on the "Grit" survey represent a negative behavioural trait?
There are some things worth fighting for - seeing certain goals, dreams or projects to the bitter end. But for others, I make a judgement call as to whether it's worth the time and energy. If I do persevere, will the end product justify the means? I think half the time it probably doesn't, which is why I abandon projects or choose a different route.
I also believe that extrinsic forces compel me to see things through to their completion. Being self-employed, it's not good for business if I leave a client half-way through a project. In these instances, I apply all the postive thinking / coaching techniques that we post on our Minerva's Mind pages to help me.
In essence, one the core elements of Minerva's Mind is providing our "fans" the tools to use when they need to deploy a bit of "Grit". Or alternatively, Minerva's Mind is about enabling our "fans" to develop their ability to be tenacious which in turn will allow them to seek fulfilment in their everday lives.
So on reflection, it's my tenancity that is keeping me going through the month of January. And for the record, I've decided that I'm pleased with my average "Grit" score.
I first started to think about "Grit" after reading this month's Thinking Woman's Coach Newsletter. It lead me on journey to help me understand how I'm feeling at the moment
For the last few weeks, it's been impossible to avoid all the inspirational and motivational blogs, articles, emails on setting objectives and goals for the New Year. (And yes, I did post a similar article myself on Minerva's Mind just before the New Year.) These articles are all very upbeat, bright and sparkly. This is exactly the opposite of how I feel.
For me, the New Year starts in March. For the next month I have a mountain of work to get through (all carried over from before Christmas) before I head off for three weeks in Australia. I return from my big trip at the start of March: this is when I'll be able to start thinking ahead about what I want to achieve for the year. The vast amount of work ahead over the next three weeks is overwhelming and I'm under a lot of pressure (mostly self-inflicted).
What is keeping me going - is it my "Grit"? When I took Martin Seligman's "Grit" survey (http://www.authentichappiness.sas.upenn.edu), I discovered that I have only average levels of "Grit". At first I was disappointed, but then I considered the issue further:
I consider myself to be tenacious: tenacity can be another word for "Grit". I love the word and frequently use it in job specifications. Tenacity is a postive behvioural trait. But can too much tenacity become what others consider to be obstructive behaviour? Does a high score on the "Grit" survey represent a negative behavioural trait?
There are some things worth fighting for - seeing certain goals, dreams or projects to the bitter end. But for others, I make a judgement call as to whether it's worth the time and energy. If I do persevere, will the end product justify the means? I think half the time it probably doesn't, which is why I abandon projects or choose a different route.
I also believe that extrinsic forces compel me to see things through to their completion. Being self-employed, it's not good for business if I leave a client half-way through a project. In these instances, I apply all the postive thinking / coaching techniques that we post on our Minerva's Mind pages to help me.
In essence, one the core elements of Minerva's Mind is providing our "fans" the tools to use when they need to deploy a bit of "Grit". Or alternatively, Minerva's Mind is about enabling our "fans" to develop their ability to be tenacious which in turn will allow them to seek fulfilment in their everday lives.
So on reflection, it's my tenancity that is keeping me going through the month of January. And for the record, I've decided that I'm pleased with my average "Grit" score.
Friday 1 January 2010
The Luck of the Irish: How I found my "perfect" bin.
This is a silly blog to start the New Year:
Last month I was sent a circular e-mail. It came from a good friend who doesn't normally email me (we mainly text or speak). So I opened her email with intrigue. Inside was a message saying that I should forward the email to as many people as possible and then I would experience "The Luck of the Irish".
I don't normally send on such emails. But my friend is married to an Irishman, and for some reason I believed in the power of this email. Irrational, I know, but I did it anyway. I'll let you know what I wished for (it's not going to come true so it's safe to tell you): to win the lottery.
Anyway, the next part of my story started some months previously. Our Barantia bin had broken. It was 5 or 6 years old, so we weren't that bothered. My husband and I took our kids out shopping to buy a new kitchen bin. Not the most exciting Saturday afternoon we've had in our household this year - but it took a turn for the worse when I decided that I would never find another bin to replace our broken one.
My husband got increasingly irrated with me: I couldn't understand why there were no bins out there which were aesthetically pleasing and at a reasonable price. (On an aside: Why are bins so expensive? It's ridiculous!) My husband tried to put across the point that we would never be able to find my "perfect" bin and that I was being difficult by sticking to my beliefs that there must be one out there. We gave up, came home, everyone feeling miserable: mission abondoned.
A few weeks later I arrived very early for one of my daugther's birthday parties. So I persuaded her to pop into Habitat with me. And that's when I saw it: The Perfect Bin. And the price was within the realms of acceptability. However, my dreams were shattered when I discovered there were none in stock. A couple of weeks pass, and one cold, but sunny, Thursday lunchtime I was driving near to Habitat again and decided to try my luck. Not only did they have my bin in stock, but it was 20% off. I was delighted.
And the first thing that came to mind: that Luck of the Irish email that I forwarded to everyone has come true!
Whether or not a circular email that creates good luck is a ridiculous concept or a fantastic opportunity, I am now a happy lady with my "perfect" bin.
Last month I was sent a circular e-mail. It came from a good friend who doesn't normally email me (we mainly text or speak). So I opened her email with intrigue. Inside was a message saying that I should forward the email to as many people as possible and then I would experience "The Luck of the Irish".
I don't normally send on such emails. But my friend is married to an Irishman, and for some reason I believed in the power of this email. Irrational, I know, but I did it anyway. I'll let you know what I wished for (it's not going to come true so it's safe to tell you): to win the lottery.
Anyway, the next part of my story started some months previously. Our Barantia bin had broken. It was 5 or 6 years old, so we weren't that bothered. My husband and I took our kids out shopping to buy a new kitchen bin. Not the most exciting Saturday afternoon we've had in our household this year - but it took a turn for the worse when I decided that I would never find another bin to replace our broken one.
My husband got increasingly irrated with me: I couldn't understand why there were no bins out there which were aesthetically pleasing and at a reasonable price. (On an aside: Why are bins so expensive? It's ridiculous!) My husband tried to put across the point that we would never be able to find my "perfect" bin and that I was being difficult by sticking to my beliefs that there must be one out there. We gave up, came home, everyone feeling miserable: mission abondoned.
A few weeks later I arrived very early for one of my daugther's birthday parties. So I persuaded her to pop into Habitat with me. And that's when I saw it: The Perfect Bin. And the price was within the realms of acceptability. However, my dreams were shattered when I discovered there were none in stock. A couple of weeks pass, and one cold, but sunny, Thursday lunchtime I was driving near to Habitat again and decided to try my luck. Not only did they have my bin in stock, but it was 20% off. I was delighted.
And the first thing that came to mind: that Luck of the Irish email that I forwarded to everyone has come true!
Whether or not a circular email that creates good luck is a ridiculous concept or a fantastic opportunity, I am now a happy lady with my "perfect" bin.
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