An inspiring and well put together virtual event. Well done to Festival Director Wayne Hemingway and team. Excellent quality streaming video and high production value pre-recorded clips. Good challenging questions from the chairs; Evan Davis, Gaby Logan, etc. Healthy side dialogues and some light networking in the web chat 👍
In the ideal space for facilitating meetings you can write on every wall. Ideas emerge from the recesses of our brains into the world for all to visualise and interact with. Pictures do tell thousands of words. And people love getting up and moving around. Plus, the cost of mistakes is zero; just wipe and start again.
The reality is that most meeting rooms I encounter have a pretty measly setup; one small flip-chart and a whiteboard if I’m lucky.
So now I carry this cunning innovation; Magic Whiteboard is A1 size flip-chart paper that sticks to any surface (static charge) and is wipe clean. It instantly turns any meeting space into a facilitator’s dream.
Cycling to work through central London on a dark, cold, and wet January morning.
Passed by a Bentley. Glanced sideways. Looked warm and comfy. The next car past was a Porche, then another, then another. I looked around for the Top Gear film crew. Rough calc of £200k+ in 4 cars. And me on my Halfords bike getting soaked 🙂
And it hit me. I wouldn’t swap places for all the tea in china. I’m happy with me, my life, my beautiful wife, my newborn daughter, my choices, my priorities, my struggles and my shortcomings.
No sour grapes, no envy, just ambivalence. In fact, if I’m completely honest, there was a little grin. I smiled. Awesome car, I thought, but you’ve been mugged. That car is making up for something. The car marketing squad have sold you a dream that isn’t yours. In the Top five regrets of the dying no-one mentioned cars. Did they?
Our priorities define us. They shape our actions, habits, character, and destiny.
Best make sure they are really our priorities and not the marketing man’s, nor anyone else’s.
Cycling to work through London. 8 miles each way and plenty to take in. Cyclists leaving the train station starting from cold. Balancing the desire for a brisk tempo to generate some warmth with eyes and brain that adjust slowly to the early morning darkness..
Traffic is sparse and good tempered at 7am – no-one is late yet.
Commuting home on the tube… Listening to an old Zane Lowe podcast about the Beastie Boys (downloaded automagically overnight). Reminds me of my very first cassette – Licensed to Ill. I check Spotify and download the whole album using the train station wifi.
Now on the train I play the album. The opening riff from the first track reminds me of Led Zep’s “When the levee breaks”. Never noticed that before. (Too young back then?) Search for the original on Spotify to compare. Ah yes, LZ not on Spotify… What’s this?
Google search confirms the BB track has a direct sample. We all know that everything is a remix anyway, don’t we?
I write a note to get my ideas straight and retrace my tech/app/connection & curiosity steps. How did I stumble upon London Philharmonic? Blog worthy? Maybe not. But a good test of the WordPress mobile app.
What’s the point? Tech as an enabler for serendipity? Or how commuting ‘dead time’ is now up for grabs? Does it matter? Something eloquent about hyper-connectivity. Wait, about to head through Shiplake – goodbye data…
Wandering along the river at the weekend we saw a small boy take a spill on his bike.
It was enough of a fall to draw a sharp intake of breath from both my wife and me but no real damage was done.
The boy instinctively dusted off his hands and winced at the bits of gravel embedded in the palms of his hands.
His Dad, walking behind us shouted, “That’s alright. Just dust yourself off. It won’t hurt as much if you ride on the grass.”
My mum insisted my brother and I learn how to fall when we were little, “Tuck your elbow in and land on your hip and shoulder”. Good advice for adventurous boys.
Over the years, I’ve introduced a handful of people to rock climbing; encouraging them as they take their first nervous steps up from the safety of the ground into the unknown.
The pattern of a first climb is pretty common: grip tightly to the holds, head up using mostly arm not leg strength, get to the top, clutch onto the largest object at the top, look down nervously, eventually release death-grip on the wall to be lowered down, grip the rope tightly on descent, kiss the floor with relief/sense of achievement, stare with wonder at forearms which appear to be pumped and burning, realise that you arms are now too tired to climb again for a long time.
Until you reach the top of the climb and release your weight onto the rope, you haven’t tested the system. You have no real trust in it. No experience of how it feels to sit in the harness, deliberately or otherwise, until you are in an exposed position.
So why not learn to fall when the stakes aren’t as high?
That’s how I teach. On terra firma I tie the person into their harness, show them the basics of my belay device, take up the slack in the rope, then I just fall down into my harness next to them. “I trust the system”, I’m saying. “You can too.”
I’ve laboured the analogy; forgive me.
My point is that being comfortable and familiar with falling allows us to ride and climb better. We’ve reduced the cost of failure.
This doesn’t just apply to the great outdoors. Learning to fall in our personal and work lives gives us the confidence to push our experimentation & creativity further.