Psyched For Monday!

Can we talk? Or more precisely, may I please share with you some ideas that can alter how you communicate and work?

People tend not to like it if we enter their homes without knocking. Yet metaphorically, we frequently do this when we teach, coach, or attempt to assist others in their growth and development.

When I went “coaching school,” I learned that permission was the foundation of the process. I have taught and I have been reminded of this lesson many times during the past decade. Trying to coach, teach, or advise without someone’s permission is much like what I imagine it would be to teach a pig to sing — it doesn’t work and it starts to get very annoying to the pig.

A couple of weeks ago, when we started the journey of my “communication skills and strategies” course at the U of A, we explored the concept of permission and we established what actual permission was important for our work together. Shortly after that class, I was with a colleague and I was pleased (perhaps in a somewhat perverse way) to get real-life reminders of what it’s like to be on the other end of someone’s (perhaps well intended) self-proclaimed good advice without my permission. I noticed my initial resistance and my growing irritation as I was given uninvited corrective feedback.

Those of us who spend a good chunk of our professional lives being paid to teach, coach, consult, or otherwise provide our wisdom, need to be particularly careful. The golden nuggets we proffered prior to arriving home becoming lead balloons if we dispense them without explicit authorization.

There are many situations where consent could be reasonably assumed; I suggest it is always good to err on the side of seeking a clear go-ahead.

There are many informal ways to ask permission. One simple favorite is: “May I offer you a suggestion?” Depending on the context, it may be appropriate to get clearance to offer “some coaching” or “an assessment.”

In the vast majority of circumstances, when I’ve been aware enough to ask for permission, people grant it and are then open to receive what I wish to share with them. When I skip this crucial step, the value that I hope to bring is often compromised or the communication is flat out counterproductive.

May I ask you something? If you said yes, then my request is that you pay attention to where in your life agreements to proceed can make a difference. Are they currently omitted, assumed, or overtly established? See if there are places where you can enhance your communication and effectiveness by asking permission.

Although it may “be easier to get forgiveness than permission,” give permission a try.

“I don’t care.”

Although it can be a way of expressing a lack of preference, it can also (perhaps inadvertently) portray apathy or lack of concern. Similarly “It doesn’t matter” or the teenage favorite “whatever” can have negative impacts.  Caring is so central to relationships, so phrases that avoid possible misinterpretation are more desirable. A couple of good alternatives are “I’m open” or “I’m flexible.” In a discussion of phrases that enhance relationships (in Toilet Paper, Toothpaste, and Tuna-Noodle Casserole), my laughter mentor, Steve Wilson (1998) suggested “I’m open” will have you perceived as cooperative, interested, and generous. I heard “I don’t care” as part of a parental rebuke the other night and it supported my feeling that when we want to communicate our openness, we should choose something other than “I don’t care.”

Although our mood, energy, and feeling in the relationship are often decisive, our words can make a difference.

Often there is nothing gained in pointing out a mistake. When the focus is on what has already happened, it tends to be about being right, making wrong, and score-keeping. A great phrase to direct attention to future improvement or possibility is “For next time.” Instead of having a battle or pointing out an error, “for next time” can be a way of saving face. I learned this one from Terry Orlick,, one of Canada’s top sport psychologists, who has written some wonderful books for parents. I remember Terry describing how if you use this phrase with your children, you will find them learning to use it, too. In general, assessments are valuable as they help people to make adjustments to improve future performance. “For next time” is a great way to get us going in the right direction. If you have a comment, I’d love to hear what you would like to read “for next time.”

While I was spending a self-proclaimed week away from e-mail, internet, and texts, I got to thinking about the extent to which various electronic communication can run our lives. How many times have you gone to send an e-mail (take an action) and ending up responding to several items in your in-box (reactions)?

I’ve seen some very cogent arguments to limit checking your e-mail to twice a day (or less). I decided this would be a good way to start my way back into the electronic world. Today was Day 1 and I failed miserably. One of my e-mail accounts was not receiving messages and I tracked it down to needing to change nameservers. (If you happen to have sent anything to billy@exhilaratedlearning.com since December 20, please send it again ☺.) As I worked my way through a couple hundred messages, I realized that few of them had significant value and only a very few were in the least bit urgent. There was nothing that couldn’t wait at least half a workday.

Thus a couple of possible other solutions: instead of relying on all the e-mails, discussion lists, social media, and other forms of communication with high noise to signal ratios, what about using Viagrape – getting news via the grapevine; allowing word of mouth and conversations to replace unnecessary screen time? How about Cial-text – turning off the cell phone and taking a break from the onslaught of texts and calls?

A big payoff is the opportunity to select high-value activities and the good feeling of being more in control of your time. The pictures on the sides show some of the things I was doing instead of e-mail last week. All the best for a wonderful 2012.

Happy New Year!
“The world as we know it is in for some dramatic and devastating changes.” There’s lots being said about 2012. Perhaps it won’t be the apocalypse, but it may be a time of considerable transformation.

I like to begin with something manageable like New Year’s Resolutions.
I was inspired by my hairstylist, Michelle, who told me that her resolution for the past year was to see more concerts.
What a novel idea — no self-denial, or personal improvement, but a plan to have more fun and enjoyment.
That’s my challenge to myself and to you: some resolutions to increase the exhilaration coefficient.

Here’s another set of ideas to help us get back to basics:
All I really need to know I learned in kindergarten
by Robert Fulghum

Share everything.
Play fair.
Don’t hit people.
Put things back where you found them.
Clean up your own mess.
Don’t take things that aren’t yours.
Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.
Wash your hands before you eat.
Flush.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life – learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out in the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together.
Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup: the roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup – they all die. So do we.
And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned – the biggest word of all – LOOK.
(or SEE as the case may be)

If you haven’t got all your changes and resolutions figured out, relax.
Supposedly we have until December 21, 2012.

What do you think of when you hear the word “surrender”?

Like many things, it sends me to Springsteen lyrics:
Well, we made a promise we swore we’d always remember
No retreat, baby, no surrender
Like soldiers in the winter’s night
With a vow to defend
No retreat, baby, no surrender

Surrender is less a part of my vocabulary than is dog-with-a-bone-commitment (see July 25).
When faced recently with a life-changing opportunity, I found myself trying hard to plan and figure it out.
Paula suggested that I look at what it would be like to let go and go with the flow.

We went to a friend’s house shortly after and there were “divine cards” spread out on the kitchen counter.
I picked one up and the message was “divine surrender.” The core message was to “not know.”

I grew up in a family where knowing was valued highly. I get paid to know.
Yet I felt a sense of relief at the prospect of trusting the process and not obsessing how to design and navigate each step.
There is an ease available in (at least considering) yielding to a power that we don’t understand.*

Have a look at the places where you are disposed to knowing — and perhaps battling about rightness and correctness.
See what happens when you try on not knowing. It might just be fun.

*Watch the movie I Am by Tom Shadyac to explore a wonderful story and great information about how we are all connected.

What is the most simple way to brighten your day? What is the most simple way to connect with another person? How profoundly cool is it that the answer to these two crucial questions is the same? Smile.

You can gather your own data to support the medical evidence that if you contract your facial muscles the right way, it will improve your mood. You don’t even have to call it a smile. Try holding a straw in between your teeth and it will form your face in a way that has you start to feel better.

The dual purpose smile is also the fastest way to connect with someone. Of all the facial expressions, the smile is the one you can discern from the greatest distance. It communicates “I mean you no harm.”

So to feel better, connect with others, and to help others to feel better, here’s a game to play. When you are going about your day, see if you can get everyone you meet to smile. Give yourself bonus marks if you get them to laugh. Yesterday, I was feeling kind of neutral while shopping for some groceries. I decided to try this smile amusement as I approached the cashier. Your genuine smile is the easiest way to put a smile on another’s face. This worked fine and them some quip in response to whether I needed the chicken in a separate bag cracked her up. I’m clear I brightened her afternoon and I knocked myself up a few notches on the mood scale as well.

When you are doing your holiday shopping, give the smile game a whirl. If you want a little attitude enhancement, try flexing your face. Smile and the world smiles with you. Cry and, well, it’s just not as much fun and you don’t meet as many people.

Today is a study in efficiency for a post.
The content below is from Huffington Post Canada:
http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2011/12/01/quick-study-a-teachers-tip_n_1124023.html

THE EXPERT:
The Huffington Post Canada talked to one of “Canada’s best teachers” and University of Alberta physical education professor Billy Strean on why we should find time to relax during the holidays.

HuffPost: How do you suggest taking a break from the stresses of the holidays?

Dr. Billy Strean: My secret recommendation is what I call “Centre and Feel Great”
This is a simple, yet extremely powerful practice that brings you into the present moment, gets you connected to yourself and what you care about, opens you to possibility and has you feeling great.

Part 1 – Centre:
Stand comfortably. Let your breath drop. Release your shoulders, your jaw, and any place you are holding tension. Feel the distance from head to toe. Next identify with your width. Feel across your shoulders, your pelvis, and notice the space from side to side. Then pay attention to your depth. You can feel down the back of your head, your back, down your legs. Then feel the front of you: your face, your torso, down the front of your legs. Go to the place two inches below your belly button and two inches in. Breathe into your centre. Notice your breath coming in as you inhale and notice your breath coming out as you exhale. As you have gone through the dimensions of the body, you have become more connected to sensation and all of yourself. As you breath has dropped and you have slowed and relaxed, you are more open to possibility.

Part 2 – Feel Great:
You are now prepared to create from this centred place. Breathe in and feel appreciation and gratitude for your life and all your blessings. Breathe out and release anything that isn’t serving you. Smile. Think about what brings you joy. If it feels right, let yourself laugh. Connect with your heart and let a sense of child-like playfulness move you. Be in the moment and be happy for being alive right now.

Last night I read the University of Alberta’s Comprehensive Institutional Plan. Okay, I did not read all 217 pages of the PDF. I skimmed. I scanned. I was really interested in what was being said about teaching and learning, so I found those parts and had a closer look.

But in our 140-character world, are we getting a little carried away? I was recently advised that I should reduce a three-word phrase to two words. Really? Have I lost you after four syllables?

I can appreciate that we are inundated with information and much of what comes in front of our eyes is only worthy of a cursory reading. (BTW, did you know that “peruse” actually means to examine or consider with attention and in detail; to scrutinize? If you were only glancing, you might see another definition “to look over or through in a casual or cursory manner.”  How confusing is that? Next will “sprint” and “meander” mean the same thing?)

Perhaps this is another call back to In Praise of Slow. Although there is material that only warrants a quick read, isn’t the third sentence of an important e-mail worth the time?

Before I get too close to the limits of a 250 word attention span, let me just suggest that we be more aware and intentional about how we read. Were you part of the 16%? Enjoy a good book. Be psyched for Monday.

[Revealing fact that may be important to this story later: I financed most of my graduate education teaching 10-pin bowling.]

I’m writing from the 3M National Teaching Fellows retreat: four nights at Banff Springs with ten of Canada’s top teachers and educational leaders.

I knew very little about the format of the program. Past winners said little about content, yet used words like “transformative” and “life changing.” I was surprised how the first day was so non-directive, full of conversation on topics generated by the group.

When I awoke on Sunday morning, I began reflecting on the first day, eager to milk the experience for the learning. Although the facilitators told us to follow the poster in the elevator “Relax. Indulge. Celebrate,” I was looking for some instrumental benefit.

We capped Day 1 with 5-pin bowling (not what I taught to undergrads who needed a P.E. credit and didn’t like to sweat or change their clothes). As soon as we were put in teams and were given a game to play, my competitive juices started firing. As I reflected, I realized how I became focused on my lane, especially when I was told I should be captain. I became the Skip, telling my teammates which shots to attempt as we tried to clear the “bingo bowling” card filled with strikes, spares, and an array of numbers.
I frequently quote John Dewey, “learning comes not from experience, but from reflecting on experience.” As I looked back, I found the gem. When in competition, one of my defaults has been to get demanding of my teammates if they are not performing up to my high-standard (that I’ve imposed on them without consultation). Let’s put it this way — through no fault of his own, the guy who was not the strongest pin-meister amongst us represented the company who bankrolls the award and this luxurious weekend. It would have been SO utterly not cool to harsh out on him for less than elite precision in taking out the desired combination of pins. Thus, I remained smiling and supportive of my whole team. Not only did everyone have a lot more fun this way (including yours truly), we also edged out the pin-savvy bunch in the next lane.

Not giving myself permission to be a butt-head, there was a great lesson in the value of developing and maintaining human connection and appreciation. Nice to see that the stuff I go around preaching to others works so well when I implement it myself.

The learning was extended on Sunday when we went to the Banff Centre for Creativity and had a session of group exercises using clay. The activities were set up with an invitation to play. My engagement with teammates was like improv – lots of give and take with no agenda; a lot more laughter. Stay tuned for more about this exceptional weekend. I hope you are as psyched for Monday as I am.

Our local ski hill just opened, so Andrew and I took in the last couple of hours of the long weekend to do a little snowboarding. When he went to the terrain park to work on a few tricks, I did a few solo runs. I got going (perhaps a bit too) quickly and had a nice wipe-out, sliding face down a fair bit of the hill. I believe the words of the passing teenagers were “Are you okay, sir?”

 That sent me immediately to a quotation from Boy’s Life by Robert McCammon. The particular phrase is at the end of the penultimate paragraph. The whole thing is worth the time to read and savor.

“You know, I do believe in magic. I was born and raised in a magic time, in a magic town, among magicians. Oh, most everybody else didn’t realize we lived in that web of magic, connected by silver filaments of chance and circumstance. But I knew it all along. When I was twelve years old, the world was my magic lantern, and by its green spirit glow I saw the past, the present and into the future. You probably did too; you just don’t recall it. See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. Told to grow up, for God’s sake. And you know why we were told that? Because the people doing the telling were afraid of our wildness and youth, and because the magic we knew made them ashamed and sad of what they’d allowed to wither in themselves.

“After you go so far away from it, though, you can’t really get it back. You can have seconds of it. Just seconds of knowing and remembering. When people get weepy at movies, it’s because in that dark theater the golden pool of magic is touched, just briefly. Then they come out into the hard sun of logic and reason again and it dries up, and they’re left feeling a little heartsad and not knowing why. When a song stirs a memory, when motes of dust turning in a shaft of light takes your attention from the world, when you listen to a train passing on a track at night in the distance and wonder where it might be going, you step beyond who you are and where you are. For the briefest of instants, you have stepped into the magic realm.

“That’s what I believe.

“The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. People get in wrecks and get crippled. People lose their way, for one reason or another. It’s not hard to do, in this world of crazy mazes. Life itself does its best to take that memory of magic away from us. You don’t know it’s happening until one day you feel you’ve lost something but you’re not sure what it is. It’s like smiling at a pretty girl and she calls you “sir.” It just happens.

“These memories of who I was and where I lived are important to me. They make up a large part of who I’m going to be when my journey winds down. I need the memory of magic if I am ever going to conjure magic again. I need to know and remember, and I want to tell you.”

Since I first read this quotation over a dozen years ago, it has helped to define one of my central struggles and my professional mission. I do believe in magic and I seek to bring a little wizardry to conjure a bit of it in all the work I do. I wish you magic today. Be psyched for Monday. Even if someone calls you sir.