Take a Good Look at Yourself

I awoke this Saturday morning to news that police had been called to the home of Boris Johnson (the candidate currently in pole position to become the new Prime Minister of the UK) and his girlfriend, Carrie Symonds, due to their neighbours having concerns over Miss. Symonds’ and Mr Johnson’s safety.  I’m not sure that a private tiff should be headline news or that neighbours should be recording each other and sharing their recordings with the press. However, there is no doubt that the altercation has the potential to damage Boris Johnson’s reputation during his bid to lead the Conservative party. Certainly, the conduct and character of the person holding the highest political role in a country is important. Indeed the character of any leader, either in or outside of politics is significant. I work for a financial services business and we expect honesty and integrity from all our staff, indeed we would not hesitate to dismiss someone whom we discovered was not acting in the best interests of clients, had lied for their own gain and/or whom we found not to be treating colleagues and third parties with appropriate respect and consideration. What we do and how we come across is important and, I for one don’t spend sufficient time considering how I seem to those around me.

My boss gave me some constructive but challenging feedback last week – he told me that some people in the business suspect that I have favourites. That for me, as an HR Director, is a significant cause for concern. It is crucial that I am seen as impartial, fair and interested in everyone. I have given his comments a lot of thought (hence this blog) - it is true that one former colleague of mine from a decade ago, a supplier who agreed to jump ship and come in-house and one person I met via a charity we both support, have joined our team – they were recruited without my involvement, but I can see how people, without my being aware of it, might have felt unintentionally pressurised into offering a job to a person who had my initial recommendation. I am confident that each new member of my team has been able to demonstrate well above average skills, but I can see how their hiring could be misperceived.  I’d like to state that I am hugely proud of the people who were in HR when I arrived. The HR offering has changed significantly for the better and it is entirely down to the team. When I arrived I made a deliberate decision not simply to “replace the bulbs” (despite encouragement to do so from some quarters) – I knew that every person had skills and capabilities that would prove invaluable as we turned the business around. Much better to turn bulbs on and demonstrate that positive change can happen – HR has been at the forefront of much of our business transformation and we take pride in leading by example. I have an amazing team.

I genuinely try to treat everyone with equal consideration, but that does not mean that I shy away from difficult conversations when performance dips or when people do or say things that unsettle others. I appreciate that people don’t like it when I call things out, but it is the right thing to do. I know that there are some who are going through tough times, physically, financially, emotionally and mentally - I am grateful that they have let me know - and I have tried to be supportive and understanding. It did not occur to me that those with whom I was spending less time might feel that they were less valued as a result. In my mind, they were fortunate, in that their lives currently seemed less complicated than their colleagues’ and hence they did not need or want as much attention or reassurance. Each of us is different. Some people like to keep work and home very separate. However, perhaps the problem is me and that I haven’t listened well enough or they have not felt comfortable sharing aspects of their lives or problems with me.

Whilst on the subject of impact and impressions (and this post being somewhat confessional) - at the end of a meeting in my office yesterday a colleague made a joke about the messy state of my desk. I am comfortable working with a collection of papers and objects piled around me (it is a family trait I seem to have inherited from my academic grandfather, who co-invented the iron lung, and my lawyer father who was a recognised leader in his field), but perhaps I should be more mindful of the impression it creates on others. There has been lots of research into working space and tidiness. A survey conducted in 2018 on 2,000 UK based employees showed that 41% of workers believe that an organised space is key to doing a good job, but on the flip side, Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein, Mark Twain and Steve Jobs all had messy desks and they seem to have been quite productive. Indeed there is academic research that shows that people are more creative and better at problem solving when they operate within a more cluttered environment.

Mark Twain at his desk

Tidy desks only became expected when the industrial age really started taking hold and Dickensian clerks were being closely watched over. That doesn’t alter the fact that I should be more mindful. Various people at work’s words to me have been a wake up call to contemplate how I am seen by the people I live and work with.

I thoroughly enjoyed a recent trip with a much-loved and perspicacious friend to the National Portrait Gallery. One of the things that we discussed as we wandered through the 19^th, 20^th and 21^st century galleries, all full of famous people, was the impression that each individual had wished to create through their portrait. Did the sitter choose the setting and expression, or did the artist decide that? I suspected that it depended on the sitter – if they were a grand patron or member of royalty they would have more control. What was the choice of lighting (candle or daylight) and why? Why did a number of portraits all share a similar trait (for example a physical one such as ruddy cheeks, perhaps to look like the monarch of the time, or all looking sideways towards the horizon rather than directly confronting the viewer – although many actresses of the same period  seemed to prefer to look you in the eye).

I enjoyed spotting small details that people used to convey messages – the bust of Sir Walter Scott was carefully carved to indicate that he was dressed in plaid and proud of being Scottish.  

James “Jem” Wharton, painted by the Liverpudlian artist William Davies, shows the highly successful boxer at the height of his career – he commenced fighting in 1833 and retired undefeated in 1840. He then ran a tavern in Liverpool as well as being a boxing trainer and promoter. The picture is a very early depiction of boxing gloves and they seem to indicate that Jem had been training before the painting was done, as gloves did not become mandatory in fights until after the adoption of the Queensbury Rules later in the century. 

What looks like a dashing Spanish shawl tied around his waist are in fact the “colours” from his latest victory (we still talk of sportspeople winning their colours – but they no longer wear them tied round their midriffs.) In Jem’s days wearing the colours were an important message, advertising his skill and success. Not all the portraits at the Gallery were intended to convey a meaning, the charming sketch of Jane Austen, done by her sister Cassandra, is just that, a frank family sketch painted simply to depict her likeness. Many have commented on the fact that, with the advent of photography, painted and drawn portraits of everyday people are becoming less common. Most of the 21^st century pictures had clearly been commissioned. The picture of the chef, restaurateur and writer Fergus Henderson cradling a suckling pig in his arms was a particular favourite of my companion – it is witty and says so much in such a simple way.  

Fergus Henderson beside his portrait
now hanging in the National Portrait Gallery

Some leaders in business and politics are effective at using items to make a simple statement. I was particularly struck earlier this year by the dignity and compassion displayed by the New Zealand Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern, following the terrible killings in the mosques in Christchurch. Her wearing a headscarf said so much and was noticed around the world (and indeed her action was followed by many women in New Zealand to demonstrate their solidarity with the Moslem community).

Corporates can make decisions relating to the appearance of their staff that make a statement to the wider community – the mandatory wearing of high heels has been much debated, in contrast, this week Virgin Atlantic announced that it is no longer compulsory for female cabin crew to wear make-up.  Have you considered the subliminal messages provided by what you wear or don’t wear? One area for consideration is colour. There is a considerable amount of research into the psychology of colours and how they affect emotions, perceptions and reactions. Roman Emperors wore Tyrian purple because it made a statement (it was so expensive and difficult to make, relying on the death of at least ten thousands snails per toga).

Influential Puritans in Britain in the 17^th Century reportedly wore black – it not only demonstrated that they were pious because they used no colour to adorn themselves, but also told people that they were successful and wealthy,

because a good quality black was hard to produce and hence expensive (the majority of puritans wore brown and indigo). Another aspect of appearance is hair (be it facial or the stuff on top of your head). I remember a bearded colleague once being introduced on his first day as the “soon to be no longer hirsute Mr X” - a clear message from our boss that he was expected to shave. More recently, I notice that Boris Johnston has trimmed his conventionally unruly mop of hair, presumably in a bid to widen his appeal amongst the Conservative electorate. I know that I look a bit wild at the moment, perhaps, now that I am trying to be more self aware, I’d better get my ends trimmed or even a professional bob instead of my flowing mane. What do you think?

When did you last take a good look at yourself?

"Man in the Mirror" - Michael Jackson

On Emerging - Day 23

23rd December 2018

23 randomly-selected people is the smallest number where there will be a probability higher
than 50% that two people will share the same birthday. This is part of the Birthday Paradox;
99.9% probability is reached with just 70 people.

Today I am driving my mother and sister to Bath to meet up with my father and his wife. It will be a chance to have a fine lunch and to wish each other a happy Christmas and good start to 2019. The next time we will all eat together will be at my son's 21st party on the 5th January.

In a way today's post is a sort of celebration, in that, for me, the Advent Blog series is not complete without a post by Neil Usher. I first got to know Neil when he was the Workplace Director at Sky - he was one of the truly innovative property and facilities experts who understood the impact that the workplace has on work, the people within it and the wider environment. He has moved on from Sky to work as a property, workplace and change consultant under his own advisory business - workessence, this is also the best place to read his blogs (he has been writing them since 2011 and there are many gems in his archive). He has also written an excellent book, The Elemental Workplace. It is an interesting read and demonstrates his passion for ensuring that everyone can have and deserves a fantastic workplace. It is a pragmatic and entertaining read by a genuine expert who can demonstrate that he has practiced what he preaches. He will be writing a second book in 2019 to be published in 2020. If you want to know more about Neil, you can find him on Twitter (his handle is @workessence).

Neil is an exceptionally talented and creative writer. His pieces have a flow to them and need to be read without distractions for maximum impact. In consequence, there are no punctuation illustrations.

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On emerging

Something was wrong. Something had been wrong before, but never like this. The severance of Lou’s umbilical cord during a spacewalk was calming, a soft suffocation in isolation. She had realised she was the lone passenger on the bus home, just herself and the driver, focussed and disinterested.

The bus slowed at each stop and sped again when they revealed themselves to be empty. It didn’t stop from the pick-up through to the lone bell when Lou only alighted.

Christmas shrieked silently; garish, primary, immediate.

Lou lived across a field. Anywhere else she would have been nervous about walking alone along the main path lit by lanterns made to look old and hiding the scrub in darkness.

There was none of the sound of shuffling feet and snuffling dogs, the exhausted exasperated forced chatter of parents to babies in buggies, the duller half of a dull phone call. No-one whistled anymore, she thought. It was just Lou. The glow from a hundred lounges was at its warmest, the air she breathed in step with her pace at its coldest.

Why was this time so wrong? She ran through a list. She liked lists, when something made it onto a list it was half done, the easy half at least. The list was of stuff she was always told was important, that the vacuously-profiled always posted and shared with unwavering conviction. Solutions are easy on the internet; six things, eight things, ten things other people do that you can do and everything’s alright.

There was purpose. She knew why she was there, she understood what the big idea was and believed in it just like all those around her, she punched the air when the others punched the air when something went well and she frowned and searched her soul when the others frowned and searched their souls when it didn’t. Often, they searched each other’s souls. Usually without asking.

There was no doubt, not a flicker. She knew people who complained that they didn’t have a purpose they and their people shared, and she felt bad for them but comforted that she did.

There was meaningful work. She understood how what she did fitted in, why it was needed and how important it was. She knew that she could do things the others couldn’t, so she felt needed and valued. People would say ‘this is a job for Lou’ and this made her happy because it wasn’t ‘Lou or’ or ‘Lou and’ but just Lou.

She knew that what they were all working towards was better than anyone else had ever done anywhere and so it was special, and this had stopped her stepping off the conveyor belt so many times when she wanted to. Even if it wasn’t true.

She learned and grew, she was better at what she did and knew more stuff and was better able to handle tricky moments and worked things out better than when she joined. She didn’t need to sit in a classroom for this, every day was its own training course with no agenda or discussion of ‘what she hoped to get out of it’, just a randomly-assembled corporate assault course.

She felt resilient, even though at times she could have sworn she was broken yet always found something, enough, to get through it. Then it was forgotten all over again.

Her team were incredible, the most angled and impossible jigsaw fitted together beautifully, and everyone know that without the other pieces they were nothing. She knew she had found many of these shapes and would sometimes stand back and watch and see the completeness playing out before her eyes and wonder just how that could have been possible.

The jigsaw needed her too and she knew that. She had painted the picture on the box lid, at least with words. They had wanted to be part of it. Without her they would have been part of a lesser jigsaw, that you could do with your eyes closed.

She had a life, too. She saw her family, they valued the time spent but all wished it could have been more but knew plenty of stories of absent Mums and consoled themselves that what they had was better than what they could have had, that the grass was green enough right where they stood.

They coped with her morning distance, busied themselves with their own awakening, her flitting eyes elsewhere in a random landscape. Her children drew pictures of what she was like when she came home in the evening, her fuse cropped, her voice drawling, an unwillingness to arrange anything even stuff that was fun, pushing everything away, clawing at peace.

That was the list. Everything was okay, the pieces were in place, it should all be right. But instead she was lost.

The abandoned bus and field and path suggested she was still searching as she resolved that it could not go on. That was one conclusion, far too late, at least. She would resolve that when the string of tiny lights was back in its shabby box.

She flicked through the days past like vinyl records in their whitewashed wooden boxes, stacked, ordered, regular, inspecting some, passing over others.

Perhaps, she mused, if there weren’t other agendas playing out then the charcoal of her dolour might have made sense: the entirety of the diaphanous mesh of unarranged meetings hurriedly held, whispers loud but indiscernible, comments clumsily coded, laughter lurched and suppressed, ideas made flesh before disclosure, papers hurriedly scooped and folded, glances without words, and shallow reasons for having to go. She was there, but not always, included, but not always, visible but not always; a life, almost.

With that, it made sense. It was not what she had been looking for, but what she had been looking through.

The front door opened, the warmth prickled her face, and familiar voices scrambled to be heard. Her own voice was clear, her mind was clear. It had lifted.

H., H. H-5s….version 2 - Day 19

Wednesday 19th December 2018

19 is the number of guards (known as Zabaniyya) who support the angel Maalik in Hell, according to the Qur'an (it is the angel's duty to administer "Hellfire" and he never smiles). 

As well as juggling work, I have to have a difficult family discussion today. I wish life wasn't quite so challenging at the moment. On the plus side, all being well, I am hoping to meet up with some wonderful people whom I have got to know via social media. I hope you have something fun to look forward to today.

This blog has had a very unusual gestation and just reading the title makes me smile. As you can see this blog is version 2 - Garry Turner had told me a while ago that he wanted to participate in the Advent Blogs series but I was remiss in that I failed to explain that the blogs need to be novel, as, being an Advent calendar, each day should be a new surprise for the readers and not a post that has been regurgitated from elsewhere. Garry was very enthusiastic when he saw the theme, had a bit of spare time while sitting in the airport at Mumbai ,and wrote a splendid post on the topic of Heartaches, Hopes and High Fives on his own blog. It is a wonderful, uplifting read full of gratitude. However, he then contacted me to ask if it could be included in the series and I had to explain that, as it was already published, it was with regret that I had to decline it. Garry has been amazing (and very patient) - he has written a fresh post (hence the version 2) and it is below.

Garry is values driven and, increasingly over the past few years he has become comfortable with who he is and how he feels. He is brave, caring and alert to the requirements of others. I have also discovered that he is patent and forgiving when someone else has been an idiot. He is the founder of The Listening Organisation, which works to help organisations and the people within them to help them to be the best they can be. I have learned from him. You can connect with him on Twitter, his handle is @GarryTurner0. 

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Heartache, hope & high fives ….version 2

Today, on my flight between Mumbai and New Delhi for an exhibition tomorrow, I was re-looking at some of the chapters of one of my reads of the year, indeed of my life; “Everybody Matters” by Bob Chapman of Barry Wehmiller & Raj Sisodia and I started to well up.

Not just once, but multiple times.

I have read this book before and it has moved me, but something different impacted me today.  Was I suffering heartache?  Was it a deep sense of hope?  Was it the realisation that Barry Wehmiller have embedded a high five culture in so many aspect of their business, it just blew me away?

I think honestly, a combination of all three, but I would like to unpick the heartache part further.

Personal purpose & development (to avoid further heartache)

When I looked to change career back in 2013 because I was fed up intrinsically, despite having the nice car, nice house & nice life, everything that the outside world classes as success, but all of it had little meaning; my work heart was aching.

In love with my fiancé who I will marry next year, my personal life was great, but my work live was soulless.  Literally soulless.

My then line manager who is very entrepreneurial saw an opportunity for me to start-up in essence a L&D strategy & function, from a blank sheet.

This was a great opportunity and fuelled my desire to #learneveryday, my personal hashtag, but after 3 years of success, I was advised by a senior leader (not the one that opened the door originally) that “I let you play at the L&D stuff.” 

Out of the blue, I was suddenly ‘playing’ at L&D despite saving the company c£100k over 2 years and engaging a wide cross section of colleagues in the ideation, design and delivery - all from zero.  I was ‘playing.’

This was like a knife through butter in terms of how it a) made me feel after 3 years of hard work and b) it impacted my self-worth.  This was the same leader that would defend workplace bullying of another senior leader as “he has something going on at home, so just leave it.”

At this same time I lost it at work – I went bang, leaving the business for 3 days and needing to call the employee assistance line as there was no one I trusted or could turn to.  My heart, and head, was aching.

Perry Timms, who I was only starring to know back in 2016 suggested I attend a WorldBlu Power Question event at Happy Ltd and that lit the touch paper of what would be a frenetic learning journey which includes, but not exclusively, the following:

• Obtaining chartered membership of the CIPD
• Attended Corporate Rebels event at Happy Ltd
• Led the transformation of my work team culture over a 3-year period such that without any M&A or extra headcount, we are now > 40% higher turnover and > 40% gross margin vs pre-cultural change
• Attended two of the WorldBlu summits in San Diego in 2017 and 2018
•  Attended the Zone event in Arizona in 2018
• Taking over 100 proactive action steps per quarter between 2^nd half 2017 and today (Q4 2018 will just creep over 200 proactive action steps) which involves attending events, meeting new people (a mix of virtually & face to face), peer to peer coach sessions, regularly attending Helen Amery’s Learn Connect Do events, etc etc
• Set up a new company called The Listening Organisation to use my own personal journey of self-discovery, humanity & vulnerability to try and serve individuals, teams and organisations to the best versions of themselves 

All of the above has been actioned whilst holding down a full-time job as an International Product Manager.

I do not share this to show off.

One of the reasons that I had tears in my eyes re-reading Everybody Matters on the plane today is that no-one, ever, in a workplace has ever told me that I matter.

You are good with people – thanks.  You are a great salesman – thanks. You can work from home by the coast – massive thanks.

But never you matter in over 20 years of work.

How many of us have ever been told we matter over and above hitting the numbers/targets?

A mending heart

One of my more recent learning experiences that has led to me being able to start to heal that heartache was attending a Quality of Mind 3 day retreat in July 2018.

This retreat was led by a great chap called Piers Thurston who teaches the 3 principles – the principles of mind, consciousness and thought.

Some of the shifts that have led me to be more present, calmer and less impulsive – which many people see in me – has been realising that my mental health challenge was all my own thinking.  I over-thought my way into that challenge, although I believed, wrongly, that it was in a major part that ex line manager.

I used to blame him, that previous line manager.  I used to think he was my problem, but in the end,  it was all my own thinking.  Yes, he did say some terrible things, but it was always up to me how I took it/reacted.

I forgive him and I forgive myself.  That removes a lot of the heartache – be kind to yourself.

He has his, as we all have our own issues/pressures/challenges of life, but knowing that we are only one dropped thought away from shifting everything, is such a free way to live life.

Going forward

I now know that my frenetic learning journey, only today on that flight between Mumbai and New Delhi, has been in part, to put a sticky plaster over that previous heartache.

That heartache that is actually my thinking.

That heartache has fuelled an incredible drive to serve others to the best possible version of themselves, resulting in The Listening Organisation being formed.

No-one wants to live with heartache long term however, thus as you read this blog, I am deeply reflective, yet present, about what all of this learning, The Listening Org and my current job role all means (outside of paying the bills)

I am OK though – really, I am - my heart is definitely not aching like it was and I remain hopeful and grateful for all for those high 5 influences in my life and that humanity is on the mend.

I have so much to be grateful for and I just hope there are more organisations soon, that embody their own version of Barry Wehmiller’s & Raj Sisodia’s humanity.

We all have a part to play in ensuring that the world stops it’s combined heartache.

What steps are you going to take?