the importance of wheelbarrows

wheelbarrow
In modern language we seem to have over developed the idea of the nominalisation. That is, the turning of actions into things. The nounification of verbs, if you will.

For example, we talk about ‘our relationship’, as if it is a thing. As if we can stand and look at it.  As if we can pick it up, turn it around, look at it from a different perspective. As if we can move it somewhere else. As if one of us has influence over it, owns it, can change it, or is to blame for it.

I see this all too often in organisation speak. “This person is accountable for the customer relationship.” Good luck with that.

In point of fact what we are really referring to is the verb of relating. I relate to you, you relate to me, and if that is balanced, useful and rewarding to both of us it could be said we have a relationship.  However we can only change the relating. How we behave and relate. We have no direct influence over how the other party relates, so how can we be accountable for the relationship?

This language appears everywhere now. Organisations talk about ‘engagement’. ‘Employee engagement’. We survey it, measure it, agonise about it. It isn’t a thing! It’s a nominalisation. What we should be doing is engaging. Engaging with our employees. Engaging each other. Engaging with other human beings.

We talk about ‘change’. ‘Change management’. We should be talking about changing. It’s active. Change and change management are cold terms that absolve us from acting. Corporate speak.

Someone once said to me, if you can’t put it in a wheelbarrow, it isn’t a thing. I’ve never tested the total truth here, but they are wise words, nonetheless.

Show me the wheelbarrow with a relationship in it. Show me the one with engagement in it. Wheel round the change. Pop down the garden and bring me back some competencies. Oh and get me some growth whilst you’re there.

As human beings we need to get back to doing. The good old fashioned verb.

Nominalisations give priority to the action rather than the person doing it. They prioritise products and outcomes over the actor and the process by which they are achieved.

This is unhelpful at best and dangerous in the extreme. It absolves the individual of responsibility.

I can change, provided I am motivated to. It’s my responsibility. A change management programme isn’t going to cut the mustard, it just provides smoke and mirrors to a leadership lack of engaging me, motivating me, inspiring me.

I can alter my behaviour.  Me, not some invisible behaviour management programme, enhanced benefits package or competency based review framework.

As human beings, let’s relate to each other, engage each other. Let’s focus on being responsible for personally growing, personally changing, reflecting and learning about ourselves, developing our skills.

Let’s keep the wheelbarrow. But only for the things we can put in it.

the need for consonants

consonants fully present
In the sunshine at Leyton Orient today.

Half time and my team are 1-0 up.

We have been singing ‘Barmy Army’. All except one. His contribution seems to be ar-eee ar-eee. For ‘Blue Army’, it’s ooo-ar-eee.

It works though. Lost in the crowd. It adds to the noise and would seem to be quite economical. No need to waste consonants. No need to use facial muscle to form lips, mouth and jowel to enunciate all the suggested letters and sounds.

Where else can we be economical and still fit in? Save energy and still be part of the team? Go through the motions but still add something?

At work, at home, with friends, with colleagues, in relationships…?

Maybe at times we all do that?

Maybe we signal agreement, dissent, act as if we are together, pulling as one, but our commitment is only partial. Without consonants perhaps? Partially present, noisy, but somehow incomplete?

pretending there is a reality

mime reality map territory NLP
I’m not a fan of wasps. A wasp buzzing near me will cause me to flap like a crazed Indiana Jones extra, chopping my way through an invisible mist of cobwebs in a deep, dark cavern. If that doesn’t work, I will duck, sway, even run away.

I don’t specifically recall being stung as a child and I have no evidence that wasps are seeking me out, just to sting me. Sometimes this frantic dance happens before I even know it’s a wasp. Just a buzzing insect can invoke this manic mime artist routine.

In a sense I am creating a false wasp / imagined wasp implication ‘reality’.

We all do this – not with wasps I suspect – but, act as if a ‘reality’ is true. Have you ever seen something shiny on the ground and paused to check, believing it to be of value? Have you ever mislaid something and convinced yourself someone else has moved it, because you ‘know’ you haven’t?

These are somewhat frivolous, innocuous examples. Something to giggle about. But we do the same thing in all our day to day experiences and interactions. Given as human beings we experience things constantly, this is something to pay attention to. Neither frivolous nor innocuous.

Often experiences are shared. We will be in the same situation as a friend, partner, colleague or stranger. It would be easy to assume therefore that we all have the same experience of the same situation. There must be facts? Truths? Reality? Things said, things meant? Actions and words we can all agree on? They happened, right?

Think again.

Let’s say someone you know walks past you at work without saying hello – what’s your reaction, your interpretation? You might think they are ignoring you, that you have upset them? You might think they have more important things to attend to, because after all you’re not important enough? You might think you’ve got it wrong, they don’t like you after all, even though you thought you had a relationship? You might just think you don’t have an interesting contribution to make, nothing to say that your colleague wants to hear?

Of course you can’t know their truth, so you create yours, by deleting, distorting and generalising your experience. Noticing some things, ignoring others; interpreting and distorting the experience to make it ‘fit’ with your map of the world. Then relating this experience to others and unconsciously grouping it with other ‘similar’ ones to create generalised groupings of meaning – eg people never notice me.

This creation of our own reality is the product of our brains pattern matching and making meaning quickly But we are miming.

Miming reality.

is train travel a metaphor for life?

train signal
My train was delayed the other morning because of signalling problems. If you travel by train they are an ever present fact of life.

The delays gave me time to ponder. Even if you don’t commute by train, signalling problems will be ever present in your life too.  Human signalling problems.

That look …
That sigh …
She hasn’t answered my email …
He’s late again …
Those tattoos …
That outfit …
She smiled …
He’s quiet …
My stomach is churning …

If only life’s signals were as simple as red, amber, green. Stop and go. But in life we interpret the signal. Often incorrectly. Very often.

And the misreading of them, accounts for many of our train crashes, in relationships … with others and with ourselves.

That look means I got it wrong, again
That sigh just proves to me that I’m a boring person
She hasn’t answered my email so she doesn’t care
He’s late again so I don’t matter
Those tattoos mean he’s a thug
That outfit says everything about her
She smiled so she likes me
He’s quiet because he doesn’t agree
My stomach is churning because, again, I’m not good enough

Signals on the train network are there to keep us safe and ironically so are life’s signals.

Our interpretation of the signals allow our beliefs about ourselves and our beliefs about the world around us to remain true. In doing so they keep us safe. They also permit judgement of others and in this way we can attribute our pain and discomfort to them and know we are OK.

Sometimes train signals might serve us better in life. Clear and incontrovertible. No interpretation needed. But then we wouldn’t be human.

So how to avoid the train crash?

What if we just noticed?
What if we communicated?
What if we asked what that signal meant and listened to the reply?
What if we explained how we felt at that moment?
What if we were just curious and had the humanity to have an honest conversation instead of judging and interpreting?

I suspect our relationships would be better – mostly our relationship with ourselves.

Travel well on life’s train journey.