Falling With Style

It's happened. Yet again, it's happened. This is the third time in our house, now.

Our newest child - one who comes with all the latest mod-cons - has taken his first steps. In fact, in motor vehicle terms he has gone from 0-60 in a matter of days. It's incredible to watch. Have you ever been in on the process? It's fascinating to analyse it.

First - there's the twinkle in the eye. Next comes the rolling over onto the tummy, and a giggle. Then within days, that rolling has turned into commando-crawling, elbows doing the work. SAS eat your heart out. Actually, don't. That would be gross.

Then the crawling turns into wild arm waving (picture the little one at a JLS concert) and then grabbing nearest furniture legs / human legs / dishwasher door* (*or all at the same time in a bid for an Octopus impression).

Then one day it happens.

It warrants a phone call from the wife and a whole album of pictures on the iPhone and accompanying commentary on Facebook. Then sit back and watch the world 'Like' 'Like' 'Like' 'Like'.... He takes his first Big Steps on his Own. And the accomplishment is known as a resounding success. Grade A* young lad. Superb effort.

But from thereon a mystifying shift takes place. Once those first steps are proven, it seems society at large starts measuring things by outcome, rather than process. All the time our dear little Toby is struggling, grabbing, falling with style, inconveniencing, reaching out, tumbling, failing, disturbing, trying, disrupting ...in a bid to show the world he can walk on his own two (cute) (small) (dinky) feet, it's okay. We expect that.

But flash forward in time and somehow once the First Steps and First Words are boxes ticked, and one reaches the 'teenage' years ('the in-between-agers') or even Big Grown Ups in the odd-world called Business - any behaviour that appears to warrant descriptions of 'Struggling' or 'Failing' is bang out of order. How dare you Struggle! Failing Is Shameful. Struggling Is For Wimps. I can see the t-shirt slogans now.

Bang Bang you're out.  As-if we should get it right first time? Or second time at least? 'Expectations are the greatest source of unhappiness' says Neale Donald Walsch. How come we expect to get everything right. All the time? When did we decide that? Who says that's how it must stay? We do it as parents. We do it in business. We do it in our own gorgeous heads. Berating, Blaming, Banging our heads against the fridge door. First Time or else.

If Love is Patient, Love is Kind then - to quote that celebrity sage Will.I.Am and his Black Eyed Peas crew, Where is the Love? Is Love only for those two and under?

When did Process become a dirty word? It's all grades, results, performance, outcomes. Which is fine, really - I run marathons and the outcome always matters to me... And what about all the struggling, grabbing, reaching out, disturbing, failing that goes into getting the result? Marathon running taught me that process matters.

Last time I looked nobody was born with a magic wand in their hand. Not even Harry Potter.

"Success is going from failure to failure without losing hope" suggested Winston Churchill.

So to all those of us who are still carrying L-plates in our lives - as parents, partners, colleagues, leaders, friends. Keep On. If you're down, get back up again. If you failed, its just handy information about how not to do something. You're not a failure. You're a resilient learner. You may not remember your first steps, but that same resilience is within you. Always. Right now it's there.

And, well done Toby for a majestic effort. Effort is what we should praise more than Right Answers (thank you Dr.Carol Dweck for that reminder). For falling and getting back up again, even off the tarmac with your pink and grazed knees. Life, sadly, will have you grazing your knees again my littl'un, but I hope that at the wise young age of one you hold onto the truth you have earned that the Struggle is all part of the Journey. Ask any caterpillar.

Running Red Lights

I admit it was exhilarating at the time.

As I looked at the road ahead, it was a continuous line of traffic lights, all showing red. This was Leeds  City Ring Road at its most ferocious on a September weekend.

I raced through the first one. Then the second. That's when I noticed the Police. But I kept going, the adrenalin thundering in my body. The Police stayed put. I pushed my luck and went through a third. This time I thought I saw the Police applaud.

This was odd. The Police were cheering me on as I raced through red lights.

Can you remember a time when you 'saw red'? When you broke through a barrier despite the warning signals?

In our mentoring work, we frequently speak to young people who have run 'red lights' emotionally. The consequences include broken fists, holes left in walls and fences, and broken ankles. But it's not just the physical impact. What about the mental consequences? The lost peace of mind? The worry, the confusion?

I guess most of us have run red lights from time to time. We've been on that journey where anger has unfortunately evolved into aggression. It doesn't have to. It could collapse into withdrawal or stand up for itself and become assertive bargaining. But often the default of angry actions is 'aggression'.

So, whether you're prone to 'fight' or 'take flight' when the red lights are glowing and your body is acting like an alarm clock, here's a few thoughts to police yourself, or others around you if they're the red-lighters.

A - Acknowledge
Acknowledge something's up. Acknowledge the rising tension. Acknowledge the clenching fists, teeth, and...um...buttocks? (Will have to check that last one out). Acknowledge what has been lost. Remember that's why anger springs up in the first place. That's why it's part of our human wiring. It rapidly draws our attention to the fact that something important to us has been lost. Acknowledge what it is - lost respect? Lost time? Lost opportunity? Name it.

B - Buy yourself time (and keep Breathing!)
When the brain is sending out its 'red warning lights', a highly toxic class of steroid is being released (glucocorticoids) which has the effect of shrinking our brains. Yes, your brain can shrink. The sea-horse shaped part of the brain called the hippocampus - that piece of our neurological jigsaw in charge of learning and memory - shrinks. Hands up if you want a smaller brain? To counter this, to help the stress-steroid process 'ASAP' (it takes at least about 10 minutes), Buy Yourself Some Time. As yet, this is something you can't get from Amazon so go for a walk. Find a safe place. Get fresh air. And breathe deeply. "Four in up the nose; Eight out through the mouth" as a midwife might say. Buy Yourself Some Bonus Time. Give your brain a chance to think. Breathing helps you control your brain which in turn controls, well, I guess the brain controls quite a few things most days.

C - Can't, Can, Choose
Don't think about doing what you can't do. Do do what you can do. Yes, I really said 'do do'. When 'red lights' are stretching out ahead of you, there will be somethings that are not in your control, and may never be. The weather, the economy and the school curriculum are at least three. As our good cigar-puffing hero Winston Churchill once said when faced with his own 'red lights'... "I make two lists. I list all the things I can't control. Then I list all the things I can control. I do something about all those things I can control. Then... I go to sleep." Choose to do something positive that you are in control of.

Acknowledge what's up. Buy some time. Choose something positive.

That autumnal day in Leeds lives with me still. The day that I just kept going. Red light after red light. Whatever possessed me?

Truth be told, the Police were cheering and clapping me and thousands of other runners on. A river of runners in colourful vests tackling the Leeds half marathon, with city roads closed for the occasion.

My only way out here is to say that you don't have to stop at every red light - but do notice it and decide an appropriate course of action. The Police might be watching and I can't promise that they'll clap.