Putting yourself first to make work better for all of us.
Over the weekend my attention was drawn to a list. Not one of those top 100 most boring people in HR lists which cause so much angst and hand wringing, but a simple list of thoughts and ideas to live by. It was written by Stephen Waddington on the occasion of his 45th birthday, and is made up of a thought or idea for each of those 45 years. I really enjoyed flicking through it, here are a few of my personal favourites, and I encourage you to check the whole thing out too.
I find myself agreeing with a lot of Stephen’s thinking, and not all of it. One idea in particular is causing me discomfort.
Banish personal pronouns, we not me, and us not I. At first glance this feels like it makes perfect sense. When I worked in big organisations I spent a lot of time thinking about how I and the people I worked with could be a great team. For example, when I led a sales team I insisted that our targets were aligned so that if any member of my team failed, I failed too. They could cross the finish line separately as individuals, and as their manager, I needed them all to succeed in order for me to, too. This method of setting targets was not the done thing at the time, and I had to work far too hard to make it happen, and happen it did, and succeed we did. All of us.
Since setting up my own business, I have continued to work mostly in large organisations, helping people make work better, together. We not me, and us not I. As time passes, and I think more intentionally about well being, and more deeply about the craft that is my work, It becomes increasingly clear that this aspiration, this hope of making work better together, cannot be achieved until first and foremost, I am in the best place to be of use to you. As my customer, you pay me to facilitate and consult with you – you have every right to expect me to be fully present, at my best, and I believe I should expect the same of each of you. To that extent, for us to do something great together, I, indeed every I in the room and on the project, has to come before we.
My #100HappyDays journey is complete, an enjoyable, useful experiment.
In November 2014, I started a journey which only 29% of people who begin it will complete. In January I reached the half way mark, and over the weekend, I became one of the 29%.
My #100HappyDays journey is over, which means I managed to find something to photograph which helped me feel happy in each and every day for 100 days straight. Those who know me well might be struggling to believe I managed this small achievement, and yet I have the photographs to prove it! Here are a few pictures from the latter stages of my journey.
I’ve really enjoyed finding something genuinely positive in each day that comes along. Each individual find might be quite small in itself, though the approach behind it enlarges how it feels to me, and the journey as a whole is fun and useful too. In addition to the reflections I observed in my previous posts about this experiment, I now have a much firmer hold on the notion of small things making big differences. Small repeated actions matter on their own, and can definitely accumulate into something significant.
I am printing the 100 photos into a book so I can reflect on the experiment from time to time and continue to learn from it. I’m also aware that now, when I hit a bump in the road, I am consciously, and yet gently looking for a positive way to move forward. Things still make me feel angry, fearful, jealous and all the other emotions we’re less likely to acknowledge, I simply feel better equipped to deal with them now.
As the journey neared its completion, Keira asked me two questions. ‘Are you going to carry on for another 100 days?’ followed by ‘Will you try a 100 miserable days?’ The second question received a resounding no – primarily because I’m convinced such an experiment would have a powerfully negative affect on me. Keira’s first question is much more interesting. Right now, my #100HappyDays experiment has finished, and I realise that making some visual prompts to trigger useful, productive thoughts and actions, is enjoyable. So I will continue the idea in my own way…somehow. My friend Callum Saunders sent me a quote by Anna White when I was over 80 days into this, which I think will be helpful as I ponder how to develop the experiment further.
“Maybe it’s not about having a beautiful day, but about finding beautiful moments. Maybe a whole day is just too much to ask. I could choose to believe that in every day, in all things, no matter how dark and ugly, there are shards of beauty if I look for them.”
If you fancy giving 100 Happy Days a try, you can sign up for it here, or just do it yourself. You don’t receive any reminders, so the experiment continues (or doesn’t) based purely on your own motivation. I found that self prompting to be really helpful and satisfying. I hope that sharing my experience has proved useful for some of you, and if anyone has any questions – feel free to ask.
A review of ‘Be Stiff – The Stiff Records Story’, a genuine tale of disruption
In 2015 the word ‘disruption’ is fast becoming what ‘engagement’ was to 2013, and authenticity and mindfulness were to 2014, much hyped, overused and often misunderstood terms. Disrupt, disruption, disruptive, everything cool seems to warrant the disrupt tag. Here’s how the dictionary positions this currently popular term.
disrupt – verb
interrupt (an event, activity or process) by causing a disturbance of problem, ”flooding disrupted rail services”, throw into confusion/disarray, play havoc with, derange, make a mess of, drastically alter or destroy the structure of, “alcohol can disrupt the chromosomes of an unfertilised egg”, distort, damage, buckle, warp.
Pretty heavy stuff huh? While the overuse of engagement in the world of work felt like the equivalent of sneaking sleeping pills into a board bored meeting, taking the definition above, disruption is more akin to lobbing in a couple of stun grenades under Any Other Business. It’s still only February, and I’ve already had enough of the business word of the year. Or have I?
I’ve just finished reading ‘Be Stiff – The Stiff Records Story’. Written by Richard Balls, Be Stiff is a fantastically well researched and written headlong dash through the chaos, and dare I say it, disruption, that was Stiff Records. Despite being over 300 pages long (not including the all important discography, Stiff Tour Dates, notes and research), this book conveys the pace, urgency and in your face attitude that epitomised the Stiff Records way of life.
Stiff Records emerged on to the music scene in 1976, founded by Jake Riviera and Dave Robinson. Right from the start, they championed musical underdogs, and the way Stiff Records marketed their acts using badges, coloured vinyl, promotional stunts and more, left the established music business staggering in their wake. Click the badge montage photo to see all manner of unconventional promotional items that Stiff Records used to announce new signings, releases and tours.
It was as if the rest of the industry was completing the final plodding lap of a marathon when Stiff Records shoved them all out of the way in the last 100 metres as they sprinted for the line, before nicking all the medals, sticking two fingers up at everyone and jumping in the back of a beat up transit van to head to the pub and celebrate.
I first became aware of Stiff Records when they signed The Damned, and released New Rose (catalogue number BUY 6) as the first punk single in the UK. The Damned weren’t the first punk band on the scene, but whilst the like of Malcolm McLaren and The Sex Pistols dithered over their rehearsing and recording, Riviera and Robinson shoved The Damned into their own cramped recording studio, and beat everyone else to the punch, even going so far as to include a cover of The Beatles song ‘Help’ on the B side, just to piss off the establishment. The Damned also gave Stiff Records their first album release, Damned Damned Damned (catalogue number SEEZ 1), and among the first ten album releases you will also find artists such as: Elvis Costello, Ian Dury, Wreckless Eric, Lene Lovich and Jona Lewie.
Stiff Records put out more than its fair share of duff material too. Does anyone remember Pookiesnackenburger, The Astronauts, or Viva Vagabond? Thought not – but these unknowns were all part of the mix and all contributed to the colour and the chaos and the creativity that made Stiff Records the disruptive influence it was. Alongside the forgotten, you will find acts such as Madness and Tracey Ullman who generated the all important sales needed to keep the good ship Stiff patched up and sailing hurriedly through uncharted, dangerous waters.
The beginning of the end came when Robinson agreed to run the then failing Island Records in addition to running Stiff. It was too much for one person, and in particular, the kind of person like Robinson, who wanted input into everything. After eleven years of excess, fights, hit records and an approach to packaging and marketing that truly shook the industry, Stiff finally stiffed.
Stiff Records was brought back to life in 2006 and has generated some income for its current owners through reissuing elements of the back catalogue, but it’s not the same disruptive Stiff Records I, and many of you will remember. Despite its current popularity, disruption is a rare beast, and even when it works, by its nature it has a limited lifespan. If everything is disruptive, then nothing is, so if disrupt you must, then please use sparingly. If you have any interest in rock, punk and pop music and what real disruption looks and feels like, I recommend you read Richard Balls’ excellent book. And remember:
