Judith Leary-Joyce's Blog

Barry was determined not to keep us waiting. Midwives assured us it would take at least two induction pessaries and maybe the dreaded drip before he would arrive. Start on Monday, appear on Wednesday was the estimate. So why, when we visited just hours after the first treatment, was something clearly happening?

And again with denial!

We had long discussions – was it in waves? No. Was her tummy tightening? No. Could we time it? No. But it was certainly something.

So I decided to stay. I’d put my own hospital bag in the car just in case, so I was ready with my laptop, ipad, snack, coffee mug and headphones. I had an image of myself sitting calmly outside the ward waiting. I might write a blog, start a book, watch an episode or two of The Last Kingdom and drool over Uthred, son of Uthred………………… Oh, ‘the best laid plans of mice …and Grannies’. It was all denial.

As a Mum, there were always things I didn’t want to do.

I didn’t want to be brave when a tarantula sized spider decided to colonise the bath; I was not the best at mopping up sick; and managing scary illness was never my shining glory. So I admit, when she said she wanted me as a birthing partner my heart sank. I agonised: would I manage seeing my beloved daughter in pain? Could I hold it together when she lost it? How would I manage to support without getting in my son-in-law’s way? But I said yes and pushed all the questions aside, assuming that I wouldn’t really be needed. After all they had a Doula, so surely I’d just be overkill?

But denial wasn’t the only reason I accepted her invitation. Whilst I was unsure how well I’d manage being there, I could only imagine the torture of not to be there. I hate to see her suffer, but I’d much rather be alongside to love her through it.

It made me realise what I put my own mother through when I called to tell her I was in labour the first time. I was in London, she was in Birmingham. There was nothing she could do – in those days, we had to fight to get Dad in the room and the very idea of a Birth Partner was laughable. So she walked around Brum all day and bought baby clothes, then went home to sit by the phone – horrendous. At least by being there, I knew exactly what was going on. I could see her eyes, stroke her back, hum to her, encourage her…….. just feel a little bit useful as she went through this life defining moment.

So I focused on being helpful

I kept us all afloat in drinks, ran the bath, supported endless trips to the loo, held the bowl while she was sick (and didn’t retch once!). I tidied, changed her clothes, made the bed. Encouraged Anthony to sleep – he was in for the long haul and I didn’t know how long they would let me stay.

And as night fell and Anthony curled up with his headphones to drown out the noise, we had some wonderful mum/daughter moments that I’ll always treasure – bathing my girl again after so many years; leaning on the side of the bath and chatting in the minutes between ‘surges’; brushing and drying her hair as she bounced on the large ball. By now we were definitely into contractions and she was going great guns with her hypnobirthing – she was going to be earth mother supreme after all.

When she reached the magic 4 cm, the machine kicked in.

Now she was officially in labour and we could head down to the Consultant Led Unit (CLU) and the longed for birthing pool. Holding onto a few scraps of dignity is all, so getting her through the public area while contracting on all fours was a challenge, but the midwives had it down. The ‘public’ also politely stayed away, sadly including Dad and Sister who were waiting in the wrong bit of corridor. I so wanted to fetch them, but didn’t dare leave in case I was barred from returning.

In the handover between midwives they realised her Diabetic notes were missing. I grabbed my chance and offered to fetch them. Thank heaven for a short pause and the knowledge they would let me back into the room. I raced up to the ward and found John and Martha (Dad and Sister) clearing the room of all the signs of home comfort. It was so lovely to have a cuddle, to talk about where we’d got to and to let them know how she was doing.

How was she actually doing? What to say?

As mothers I think we split into two groups: some will spot a pregnant mum from miles way and home in with their gruesome birth stories; others will pretend it’s an easy, elegant affair that can be managed before tea. If you’re of the first variety, please take a look at the facial expression of your listener and pause for breath. It really doesn’t help to go into labour believing you’re going to die. And if you prefer to gloss over the pain, then please stop reading now.

This is my fourth labour – two of my own and one with each daughter – and it really is hard to talk about. This is not a glamorous process. All romanticised ideas of bringing forth a new life miss the mark. We do bring forth new life, but it’s in a hell of a struggle. Style and dignity are lost with endless bouts of farts and burps; the first time you fall asleep on a train and dribble, and when you can no longer see your feet, never mind shave your legs. Labour demands that anyone at any point has the right to stare deeply into your bits. Your body is suddenly up for grabs and anyone can come take a look.

And it is pain of extraordinary depths. I’ll always remember my neighbour in the maternity ward who, when congratulated me on my first child, described it as ‘sh*tting a double decker bus’. Pretty damn accurate I thought at the time! And the truth was my girl was doing as well as was possible – and she was doing the only thing she could – she was getting on and bearing with it.

This is a major rite of passage; a turning point in life when you are obliged to find your inner strength (if you can do this, you will knit fog). All the pain and challenge of change condensed into a few days that leave you irrevocably different. Not only is your body racked and sore, you now have a delicate little life in your hands. It’s mind blowing!

For my Miriam, the challenge was huge.

Being diabetic, she was checked every 10 minutes for something – blood pressure, temperature, pulse, blood 

sugar, ketones, injected for prevention of DVT’s, blood pressure tablets, catheterisation, blood samples from Barry’s head….. not to mention her own blood tests and insulin injections. And each time she had to reel off her name and date of birth – you try doing that in the little bit of oblivion you have been contractions. But she did it with good grace through 29 hours of labour.

Importantly she was never on her own. She had her Beloved, her mum, her doula and two really caring midwives and we all had a job to do. Miriam has always said it takes a community to raise a child and it takes one to deliver a child too. Sadly not everyone has such luxury, but these midwives are the real deal, both in expertise and caring. They took Miriam on as their own and I needed to see that, because at times I felt entirely out of my depth.

Talking about depth – Anthony – this was a rite of passage for him too. How I love that boy! He sat in the water holding her, talking her through each contraction, loving her as she groaned, cried and howled. He must have been dying inside to see his beautiful wife in such pain – how could he not. But he kept it all to himself. I did my best to support him – rubbing his back as he rubbed hers, checking in, getting drinks. He was a complete star and never once indicated that I was in the way or intruding. We were in it together – a bond we’ll always have now.

So what happened? How was Barry doing?

Barry had decided to shuffle around and go back to back – which means harder labour. In Miriam’s case, it also made it impossible to achieve that final half centimeter and he had to be helped out. 

Again, thank heaven for caring health professionals. They listened when she asked for a Gentle Caesarian – a new concept (to me anyway) where they push him out, let Mum see him emerge, let the cord beat for just one extra minute and have Dad trim to size, then straight onto her chest.

The end result was a birth with no regrets. It was the best it could have been and Barry is safely in their arms. And Granny has survived to see another day – just!

The Happy Family

 

Let me know if you have been a granny birth partner

how did you do and how do you feel now?

The post Waiting for Barry – Birth Partner Granny appeared first on Judith Leary-Joyce.

Is it just me or is it really hard to watch your own kid struggle? And does the growing and delivering of human being knock other Grandmothers for six?

I remember when she was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. I had to practice doing injections on an orange, knowing full well it wouldn’t help me stick a needle into the leg of my eight year old. I dithered so much she soon decided to do it herself. Brave girl!

This time it’s watching her carry round a huge bump – all out front as old wives tell us boys are – with the accompanying backache, fat knees, endless visits to the loo… need I go on! This is the girl who loves any shoe – from Louboutin to Irregular Choice – anything that shows off a neat foot. Now she has no idea where her ankles are – they upped and left at month five and we just have to trust they’ll emerge again in their own good time.

It’s been a long pregnancy. We’ve been shown regular pictures of ‘Barry’ or ‘Barisard Theobold’, better known as ‘Barisard the Bold’, because Diabetic mums need much closer monitoring. She’s borne it with good grace and I’ve done my best not to worry as they’ve waited for results, checked out strange symptoms and struggled with decisions about birthing and induction. I know I can agree too readily with the experts – much better to think it through and do the research – but what if they’re right? This is my baby we’re talking about – and I don’t mean Barry.

But now all those options and discussions are irrelevant. Pre-eclampsia has struck and she is stuck in hospital. The staff are wonderful – our NHS really is something to treasure – but even so she’s hating it. Not to mention the fact that nothing is ready. They have a super buggy bought months ago on eBay, but his bedroom is still an office, no clothes are sorted and he has nowhere to sleep.

I’m glad really they’re not ready – it gives me something to do. My way of coping in a crisis is to make a list and take action. If I don’t do that, I just sit and worry and that’s no use to anyone. First stop was to make her comfortable in her little cubicle. Fortunately she was beside a window – anything else would have been unthinkable in this fresh air family. Then it was the pillow – I never go anywhere without my pillow! And a nice duvet; topper for the hard bed; noise cancelling earphones; mugs to reduce plastic waste; endless tasty picnics. My Dad always said we were like the Bedouins – taking everything but the kitchen sink when we went away – now we’re at it again and thanks to the hospital for letting us get on with it.

At first we all fooled ourselves into thinking it would just be for a few days. I knew in my heart it was unlikely she’d leave without Barry in her arms. I hinted at the possibility, but it was too tough for her to see, so we just pretended it wasn’t an option. We made plans – how we would sort out the preparation, who would do what, what order did it all need to be done in.

When the strains of Eastenders, vomiting and labouring groans became too much we snuck out. Ostensibly to the Costa in reception, but actually to TKMaxx in town. (Stick with me, baby, I’ll show you a good time!) We became silly and furtive – we had broken out. When we spied a nurse doing her shopping we went and hid in the handbags – how daft can you get? We bought baby gro’s and a much bigger washing basket – two things off the list – then drove slowly back. It wasn’t much but better than nothing. The fresh air smelt so good – and I was only visiting.

That was a week ago and I’ve not stopped. I’ve washed endless baby clothes and bedding, and grown up clothes and bedding. Amazon boxes are piled high in the conservatory as more and more orders are delivered to my door. My son in law is painting, sorting, hammering and chucking stuff away. Miriam does anything that can be addressed at chest level – her relationship with the floor is long past. And the dogs wander around looking confused and a bit lost – or maybe that’s a projection on my part?

Thank heaven for the washing is what I say. If I stop and think for too long, I feel so sad that she couldn’t have the ‘simple’ delivery that otherwise runs in the family. The doctors assure us all is well. Barry is strong and active; Miriam is doing all the right things by holding on for 37 weeks at which point they will ‘evict the tenant’ so her poor beaten up body can return to normal.

But I hate it. This is my baby after all. I want her to be comfortable and deliver with a sneeze, as one second time mum was reported as doing. And there’s a way to go before she will feel like herself again.

But at least I’m here and close by. My own Mum was at a distance first time round and gone completely for the second, so I’ve no role model. I’m learning to be Mum ‘at the right distance’, head cook and bottle washer, birth partner if needed, floor pacer when not and listening ear when the nighttime miseries set in.

And I need to remember, a new life is beginning for me too. By the end of next week, I’ll be Granny to Barisard the Bold and it will all have been worth it – and mostly forgotten

The post Waiting for Barry – thoughts from a ‘pre-eclampsic Granny appeared first on Judith Leary-Joyce.

My very first job was teaching. I taught Biology and Geography to secondary school kids. I was a disaster! I hated it, the kids hated it and not much learning was going on. I stuck at it for 18 months, but it was clearly time for change, but I had no idea what to do and at least I had a job. Finally the day came when I could stand it no more. I decided I would rather work on a petrol pump (as we did in those days!) than carry on teaching.

Because I’d waited so long and felt so bad, the final decision was an easy one. It felt like the only way forward. Sometimes the present situation has to get bad enough before we have the energy to do something different. Especially when the present is draining confidence and creating a feeling of powerlessness.

My favourite quote from Goethe says:

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.

The moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too…

This is just what happened to me. One week after giving in my letter of resignation, I was offered a job as an unqualified Social Worker. I leapt on it, since this was much more what I wanted to do. Because I was committed, I loved every minute of it and then, during my six years of working and training, Providence put Gestalt in my path and it has driven my work ever since.

Incubation

In my research for The Psychology of Success, I came across the same process time and again. I met so many people who had struggled through bad times until they were ready to take a risk and follow their hearts.

I came to see this as a time of Incubation. Those moments when you realise you are restless, that you can no longer just carry on pretending that all is well. As soon as you acknowledge that, you move into Incubation. Just like the preggie mum, you are growing something new, developing and changing along the way. And just like the preggie mum, the whole thing feels interminable.

When will it end?
And what will the end result look like?
And how will I cope?

The questions go on and you just want it all to stop. You want to be sorted and to have some sense of control over your life again.

See recent blog from Psychologies Magazine for an example

So what is actually happening?

Think caterpillar to butterfly. This is the level of transformation you are making on the inside. Everything you have known and understood is coming up for grabs. You doubt yourself and others; you get excited about new things; you change your relationships and look for new jobs.

People react to incubation in different ways:

Some get really introspective. They go inside to think really hard and people around have no idea what’s happening. There is a lot of learning going on and decisions being made on a subtle level. When change does come, it’s a huge surprise to the people around them.

Others look around outside of themselves for answers. They rush to action, just so they can feel more comfortable. They try new activities, new jobs, new friends. Each step of the way they learn something new about themselves and what they actually want. When the final change comes, people around them feel really relieved that the kissing of frogs has stopped for a while.

What drives the final decision?

The final change comes in a very interesting way. The answer has always been there, we just don’t accept it, believe it, trust it. So we try to carry on as normal, because the idea of taking a risk feels too much. Finally, when life gets bad enough, we accept that we are no longer who we thought ourselves to be; we recognise that change has occurred and we finally follow our hearts.

At last we have aligned our minds to what our hearts have been telling us. Then it’s all systems go! This is a great time – we go into Drive – laser focus moves us forward and life looks entirely different.

How to manage incubation

So if you are struggling and don’t know which was to go, maybe you are in incubation. As soon as you recognise that, you will feel more positive. This is not you making a fuss or ‘faffing’ around. This is you growing and developing. Life is going to look so much better once you know who you are becoming – and the journey itself becomes interesting for its own sake

Start writing a journal to track your thinking and your ideas – get curious about yourself.
Be really honest with yourself. Talk with someone you trust or write it all down in your journal. You will soon start to see the patterns and learn from them.
Find other people in the same stage and share what’s happening.
If you are getting lost in introspective, go out and do something different. Anything new that grabs your attention. You need to get your energy moving out rather than only inwards
If you are constantly looking outside yourself for the answer, then sit down on your own and get introspective. Follow your feelings and thoughts and see what they have to tell you.
This might also be a good time to find a coach – someone who can help you navigate the convoluted path of incubation.

Above all, remember, you know the answer, you just haven’t been able to access it yet. And the path might not be straightforward. Like me, you may need to take different turns to find your final destination – Social Work was great for a time, but not for me ultimately. Yet it did a great job of taking me to Gestalt, which was my true ‘coming home’ experience.

And when it’s all over?

In time, it will all happen again, because this is how we develop our potential. Some people go through it just a few times in their lives; some go round the loop often. So if you have real talent and skill, you will find yourself incubating again for sure. Change is the only constant, so enjoy it when the time comes. Define it as a time of learning, rather than a failure to take immediate action and go exploring. It’s all to go for!

The post Time for change, but I don’t know what to do! appeared first on Judith Leary-Joyce.

NB: All names have been changed. 

The scene: The Umbrella Rooms near Leicester Square, London. The occasion: a glorious experiment into the psychology of confidence. The cast: six adventurous young women, eager to explore: who is the Doubting Twin?work with their Doubting Twin, aided and a abetted by masks from Trestle Theatre.

“Focus on your inner, critical voice. Listen to the tone, the volume, how you feel as you hear what the voice has to say. Imagine what this person looks like, how she moves, how she reacts, the impact she has on people around her.”

“Now go to the table and choose the mask that best matches your inner voice. Look at the expression. Adopt the expression on your own face, then maintain it as you put on the mask. Feel your way into this persona that lives with you day to day.”

One small mask; one big shift for womankind. Here was the chance to understand the doubting voice; to play her out; to give her full throttle and feel the energy she creates. As an observer of this small, experimental group, the transformation was remarkable. Laid out before me was a pride of Doubting Twins. Now I could see for myself the force and impact they delivered. No wonder these beautiful, talented women were underplaying themselves.

“You’re pathetic – for heavens sake, get a hold of yourself”

“I’m no big fan of yours – you never get it right.”

“You need to focus – no time to relax – you have to be perfect”

We all have a doubting, critical voice in some form. It’s the energy that drives the Imposter Syndrome; that provokes us into questioning our own judgment, while believing others wholeheartedly; that helps us stay small and non-threatening. The fortunate few can override the voice quickly; others have lived with the dial turned up to maximum for years.

The masks proved a fantastic way to explore. The act of ‘putting on’ the Twin made it very real, engaging body as well as mind. Gone is the temptation to let logic explain away the derogatory message. Instead you become the derogatory speaker; you settle into holding the reins and exacting control over every move. And then you realise – this has all been about survival and making life safe.

Every critical comment shows a desire to help.

The voice was born to limit your power and self confidence. For some reason you felt it necessary to stay ‘in check’, so save yourself from blame, mistake or embarrassment, to make sure you were loved and cared for, not ostracized or neglected. The Doubting Twin was perfect for the job and did sterling work, but then she got cocky and just kept on going in the belief that she knows best. Like an elderly aunt, she loves to impart wisdom, but forgets that times have changed, that you’ve grown up and know your own business best.

Getting the message

Even now there is power and value in the Doubting Twin. However overwhelming and limiting she is now, she also holds a kernel of truth. The element she keeps in check is exactly the wisdom, talent or strength you need to access right now. When younger, being talented or strong may have caused problems. Now you’re grown and able, it’s time to come out of the closet and own up to how amazing you are.

Annabel’s Doubting Twin manages her spontaneity very closely. Going outside the comfort zone is just too risky and may take people by surprise. The belief is that people like sweet and predictable, which is a good balance to the constant criticism that drones on inside.

For Karen, the big risk was shining and being amazing. Others might be jealous and feel outshone, so much better to hold back, procrastinate and limit how much she can succeed.

Melanie sees the funny side of life. She’s attractive, appealing and engaging, so may well leave others ‘in the shade’ – and they may not like that. Better to stay quiet and give others all the space.

Why is the DT so limiting?

She believes it’s always better to stay safe. She also believes that her definition of ‘safe’ is the right one. In her efforts to get it right, she becomes overblown and pushes her controlling message on a daily basis.

But that’s not the problem.

The problem is that we choose to believe her – to buy into her rhetoric. On some level it’s easier to play small, to give up that strength, power, talent and allow others to take the limelight.

What to do?

So what happens when the Doubting Twin mask comes off and the complete opposite gets a look in? The change is remarkable and great fun to experiment with. But to go to the complete opposite is never going to work in the long term. So what about the middle ground, taking the best of the DT plus the best of the polar opposite – what does this feel like?

Enter the Constructive Twin

When mask number three comes out:

Annabel is now Balanced Beatrice – a woman who keeps learning and is honest about what she can and can’t do. When the situation allows, she thoroughly enjoys being spontaneous and taking people with her. It feels really good – and guess what, people really like it!

Karen morphs into Ready Rita. Rita can accept that she’s full of potential, as well as being brilliant at what she does right now. Knowing this means she can stop limiting herself by procrastinating and doing just ‘good enough’. Now she can relax, be prepared and shine for all to see.

Melanie is Well Balanced Wilma. She is happy and positive. She tackles problems with confidence when they come along. She accepts the consequences and speaks out when she needs to, but with positive regard for the people around her.

Knowing the Doubting Twin is an essential part of finding confidence. Until we understand why we need to hold ourselves back, we don’t have the choice to go forward. Once we realise that she has our best interests at heart – albeit in the style of an out of date Aunt – we start to see the real message she has to bring us:

“You are a talented, resourceful, strong and capable woman. I’m just not sure the world is ready for you, so I’ve worked hard to keep you safely out of the limelight. I believe this is the best way to survive.”

To bring balance, we then need to see and understand the opposite. The part of us that is just as real, but that rarely sees the light of day:

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks. And I think you are totally perfect so don’t need to change anything.”

Just as limiting at the Doubting Twin voice, the opposite won’t help on it’s own. But put the two together – accepting the best of each and watching out for the irrational – then you will create your own version of the Constructive Twin.

The Constructive Twin

She is the one who will keep you safe, but not by hiding away. She’ll make best use of your strengths, so you can shine, do great work, delight your friends and have the occasional strut. You’ll also put other people first when appropriate, care and support those who need it, tell the truth when necessary – and do it all in a way that is self affirming and confident.

Brilliant!

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The post Dropping the mask – who is the Doubting Twin? appeared first on Judith Leary-Joyce.

How often have you been in the thick of a coaching discussion,just beginning to understand yourself and time is up?

How often have you limited yourself in order to focus on a specific goal, even though other thoughts and ideas are coming thick and fast?

And how good would it be to have time to talk all about your situation, be listened to fully and still have space to explore the underpinnings of what is really going on?

All those elements are certainly true for me – both as coach and coachee, so I set out to try a different way of working.

Let’s get time on our side.

Time to truly understand a situation – to surface challenges, as well as the underlying drivers and blockers. And still have time to take a deep dive into what this was really all about. Couple that with lunch and some space for reflection – sounded perfect to me.

So the Deep Dive Coaching Day was created.

Angela* was facing another year in a job she didn’t like. She’s really good at her work and delivers exceptionally well, but the spark and fun has gone. But it was excellent pay and an easy commute, so hard to take the risk of jumping out.

Esther* sat at a turning point in her life. Empty nest was approaching, with all the accompanying loss of identity and purpose that brings. Her job had been great as a provider, but now it was time to branch out into something that would make life feel really worthwhile and fun.

Naomi* had her vision firmly in place. She knew exactly what floated her boat. Now she had to get her message across to the world, so she could achieve as she has the right to do.

In each case the first point of focus was work, but that’s where the similarities ended. Each person had their own strengths and challenges that helped or hindered progress and each person needed a different solution to take them forward.

It’s great fun for me to have the time to explore, challenge, support and plan without interruption. In fact, each day is special in its’ own right with plenty of fun, laughter, the occasional tear and some really good outcomes. I love those moments when I can see the penny drop:

Sometimes the Doubting Twin is getting in the way
Sometimes straight feedback on personal impact is needed
And sometimes, I just need to wade in and support the courage to get out there.

I go into each day not knowing where we’ll end up

Each time, I draw on my 40 years experience to address the situation in front of me – and I discover just how much I’ve learned over time. Nothing is wasted. Every piece of experience and knowledge is going to come in useful for someone. And there’s not much I haven’t seen already, which is a comfort for the person who feels out on a limb.

So I’m looking forward to many more Deep Dives in the months to come. If this sounds appealing to you, drop me a line and we’ll organise a phone call to explore whether this is an appropriate way forward for you.

judith@judithlearyjoyce.com

*all names and personal details have been changed to maintain confidentiality

The post The Deep Dive Coaching Day appeared first on Judith Leary-Joyce.

I’ve just read yet another article telling women how to gain confidence.

Look the part
Speak out
Take your place in meetings……………

All brilliant advice, but does the writer really think we don’t know? That we don’t go away from each silent meeting knowing that we should have said more? Or that we don’t feel angry when men put forward our ideas as if their own?

“Fake it till you make it”

Great advice – but not always so easy to do. I’m quite sure the advice comes from good heart – it’s tough to see so many women giving up on their potential. And women tend to pull together so want to help each other. Problem is, this is not a simple issue. Many complex factors are overlapping to lead to the present form of behaviour and the only way through is by understanding. Good advice may occasionally spark understanding, but mostly it’s great questioning and a challenging, listening ear that will add most value.

The million dollar question – why do we behave as we do?

We need to find out what we gain from being the back stop of a meeting, supporting others to shine or letting a colleague steal our thunder. It has to be giving us something or we wouldn’t do it. And until we see the behaviour for what it is, the alternative will always feel like more of a risk.

For Jean, taking a back seat has kept her out of trouble and dleivered approval. Her parents were pleased that she didn’t make a fuss. They appreciated her reliability and support, knowing they could be sure what to expect of her in any moment. She never liked the restriction, but she did like the affirmation that went with it. ‘ You can always rely on Jean – you need never worry when she’s around.’

At work, being ‘edgy’ was rewarded. A fast moving business required fresh ideas, immediate action and proactivity. Jean had the ability to do them all; whether she had the Will to change her style and risk losing the affirmation was another question. Being edgy pays off sometimes and fails many others. Jean wasn’t used to failing in her supportive role and she didn’t want to.

The outcome? She stayed with the tried and tested. Taking a back seat made Jean feel safe. It also made her irritated, but not irritated enough to risk upsetting someone – yet.

So telling her to ‘just speak out more’ is pointless.

It’s good advice, but not advice she is likely to follow. She has to explore a more fundamental issue and be ready to undertake a significant change of lifestyle and belief. Can she do it? Absolutely. Is telling her just to get on with it helpful? Not really – it just gives her something else to feel bad about, when she fails.

So let’s step back from giving advice.

Instead let’s listen to what is going on and encourage each other to go a bit deeper in order to understand. Because once we understand what is happening, then we have choice. And when we can choose from an informed place, then we’re in with a very real chance of change.

The post Advice on confidence – will it ever work? appeared first on Judith Leary-Joyce.

On June 24rd we woke to a different world in the UK. Many who believed they understood life, felt let down and desperate. Many who had felt unheard for years, finally had what they wanted – and some are content, some don’t know what to think.

We sit firmly in turbulent times, as those who lead us struggle to find their way. No one knows which promises will turn out to be true. And we still have two ‘sides’ very firmly in place. Overall, we’re in a stew that could easily spell disaster.

But:

What if this is exactly what we need? What if we have been complacent for too long and needed a shot across the bows to make us pay attention? What if this is the best thing that could have happened – that the thriving, affluent, educated middle classes finally don’t get what they want?

Major change often need a crisis – otherwise why would we bother going through the pain required. When life is comfortable, we forget to check how others are doing – we assume everyone feels the way we do. We were even taking our democracy for granted, leaving the few to choose the government, then complaining when it didn’t go well.

I put myself firmly in this camp. I have never been political, I voted the way my mother did, so I didn’t need to really think about it – put off by the ‘bad behaviour’ I saw in Parliament. It just wasn’t for me. Despite a strong social conscience I never saw politics as a way out. And my Doubting Twin would never allow me to be that outspoken!

I knew that British people were hungry; that parents were struggling to keep a roof over the heads of their kids; that many failed to find a job that would give them back their self respect. And it upset me hugely – but not enough to put myself out, to drive me to action.

Until the referendum. There has been something in this vote that captured the imagination of many. Suddenly, there was a threat to our safe lifestyle. Now it was becoming personal.

I just couldn’t sit back and hope. I couldn’t risk waking up on the morning of June 24rd, regretting I hadn’t made an effort. So I joined a volunteer group – great people of like mind – and we worked our socks off to make a difference and point out reality as we saw it.

And we failed.

It took a few days, but I finally started to question: is this really failure or is it the start of something much bigger that we can’t fathom yet? Finally those of us in a position to make a real difference are energised to create change – not only for ourselves, but for those who have no energy left to fight – those who took the opportunity of the referendum to make their feelings known.

I’ve no idea what this is going to look like or what I will actually need to do. But one thing is for sure – I can’t settle back, comfortable in my safe haven, giving lip service to what’s happening in other lives. Now I need to act.

For a ‘have’ to ‘have not’ is a Turning Point, described by Greg Braden in his book of the same name as ‘spontaneously created by events in our everyday lives……..and the beauty is that we must cross them before we reach the tipping point of no return.’

Whatever happens now in UK politics, we can never return to where we were and it’s up to us whether the tipping point, when reached, is for the good of the many or the few.

Going back isn’t an option. We need to recognise that it’s time for a new world – one that is fair and equal. What it actually looks like will depend on the effort and care we all put in – and that requires us to give up on what was. As Braden says:

‘How can we thrive in the new world if we’re focused on waiting for the old world to return?’

So take a look at what you can do. Join together with others and follow your noses – the answers are out there for us, we just have to find the right questions.

 

The post Living in a different world appeared first on Judith Leary-Joyce.

I had zero plaque scores again at my regular dentist check up. I understand it’s rare to have two in a row – so I have a proud mouth right now!

I’ve also just finished watching Harriet Minters Ted Talk on Yoga.     Watch Harriets talk here

I love her images of shoulder stands. I’m at no risk of suffocation, just of sucking in air as I rise that will ‘out’ at some point and probably on the way down!

Yoga has never been my thing either. I’ve tried, but unlike Harriet I never found a way to like it. On the other hand, I know just how much we need somewhere safe to fail. In my work as a leadership developer, facilitator and coach it’s my constant cry – ‘make your mistakes here – we’re all in it together and we’ll all learn together – so go for it and take a risk.’ Only when we really get in there and risk, do we see how much we learn and how little the failure truly matters. Of course, that’s easy to say.

To the Doubting Twin failure is life threatening

She will be on your back, warning of dire consequences and major kickbacks from those around you. She will have to take defensive action – it’s her job to care for you in the only way she knows how. And let’s be clear – your failure is what she expects. You are both on familiar ground – the DT being critical and you beating yourself up.

The big question is – how many failures will it take before you are willing to succeed?

How long before you stop the DT in her tracks

She needs to hear:

I know I failed, but I understand why
I failed and it really doesn’t matter
This time I actually succeeded – time to notice that!

To get to that place requires reassurance to the DT, coupled with a willingness to say ‘Look at me, I’m good at this’. The DT gives us the perfect reason not to do it – that’s just one reason why we hang onto her for so long.

When we stick with a challenge, the repeating failure can sometimes highlight where successes are lurking. One step at a time and you become pretty good – and from there the only way is up.

Competitive? Not me!

Which brings me back to zero plaque. I’ve never been competitive – or so I tell myself. Just possibly, I’ve never entered the game so I don’t have to lose. I guess that’s probably true since I LOVED being a ‘rare’ one who gets the best score twice in a row. In the little moment of celebration with Gillian (my dentist) and her nurse, I felt great! I’ve failed many times to reach that particular nirvana, but Gillian has kept encouraging and I’ve kept going. Now the longest teeth cleaner in the world and a perfect customer for every brush, mouthwash and floss you can name, I’ve found something I am willing to be really proud of.

Which is a truly sad statement! I’ve built two successful businesses, written three books, had two wonderful kids and a happy marriage for over 30 years and I’m proud of plaque scores! Really?

And I’d bet a small fortune that you could reel off your version of that list. Oh how little we value ourselves! How tough to see what we do well and how easy to see our failures.

Maybe the trick is to fail consciously

Harriet must have watched her own progress week by week – so she knew exactly where she was missing perfection. But then somewhere she started to see how well she was doing. That’s the bit many of us miss. We focus on failure and ignore the fact that persisting is getting us somewhere. Or – and here’s a thought – we secretly know we’re getting somewhere, but we don’t want to say?

So let’s make today the day we celebrate what we’ve achieved. I can be more honest than plaque scores and say that I’ve achieved a huge amount in my life so far – and I’m going to make sure there’s plenty more to come yet.

And you? What have you achieved? And what would it take for you to speak out and be proud of yourself?

 

Have a go – I’ll back you every step of the way!

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“BBC fails to attract women to top reporting roles due to their lack of confidence”. Not too surprising. A reporter at the BBC not only needs the confidence to go for the job, but also to speak out in front of the world. Which is most daunting, I wonder?

Out of a desire to improve the situation, it seems that ‘confidence training’ is now on offer, which is great news – as long as confidence can be ‘trained’.

Read the original blog from We Are the City here.

 

Will confidence training help?

Certainly there’s a lot we can do to improve how the world sees us – learning the unspoken ‘rules’ for how to conduct ourselves, repeating reminders about how good we are really and how we can do the job just was well as other people, acting ‘as if’ we are truly confident so they and we begin to believe it. I’m just not convinced it’s enough to create a mindset change – which is the only factor that will make a significant difference.

The pit of personal uncertainty sits deep down inside and isn’t always open to logic and strategies. The Doubting Twin pays no attention at all to positive affirmations – she is just too well versed in the problems and too focused on keeping us safe from criticism to believe any rhetoric. She’s the one who wants to be absolutely sure of her ground before speaking out, who insists upon the safe option and is quite sure that senior job application is too great a risk to take.

The only option is to listen

The only way to calm her voice is to listen fully and understand what she’s trying to tell you. What is the real message coming your way?

Harriet lived in a family where there were no clear rules. It could have given her enormous freedom, but instead she’s plagued with the fear that she’s getting it wrong without ever understanding why – or if she did.

On the other hand, Lucy enjoyed totally clarity of right and wrong, such that she had little freedom to move. Interestingly, the end result is the same – constant fear of being wrong, so there’s no chance of her trying for a stretching role at work.

The outcome might be the same, but the way through is different. Harriet needs to define her own limits, deciding how she wants to live. Lucy experiments with ‘getting it wrong’ – breaking the rules as often as she can hack it, in order to decide what she agrees with and what she is ready to slough off.

Sign up for training with that inner voice sniping from behind your ear and chances are you’ll fail – and won’t she just love that! Understand the inner voice and confidence ‘training’ will give you all the tools you need to make up for lost time.

So to the women of the BBC:

Understand, appreciate and befriend your Doubting Twin, then nothing and no one will stop you!

 

Save

Save

Save

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As one of the 48% I’m feeling sad, worried and disenfranchised. I believe we would be better off in the EU and my constant driver as I pounded the streets posting leaflets and talking with the ‘don’t know’s’ was that we stay connected with our European neighbours. Yet I was also conscious of all the different layers that I didn’t understand, so I sent a call to the Universe to help us ‘get it right’.

On Thursday night and Friday, I was sure the Universe had let me down. As Saturday dawns and I continue to read comments and thoughts of others, I’m beginning to wonder if there is more to this than I could ever have thought.

I grew up in post war years where the emphasis was on helping those less able to help themselves. The welfare state and the NHS were important elements of our society and the council house I grew up in was part of a growing bank of social houses.

Thankfully, I was never hungry. But I saw enough misery and distress as a child and in my years as a social worker to know that we have a responsibility to each other. And increasingly over the years I’ve seen this care disappear from the UK. And I also recognise how easy it is to forget and assume all is well, because my life is OK.

What did we actually vote for?

When talking with Leave people during the campaign it was clear that the complaints are not all down to the EU. The sense of unfairness and inequality is very real and some of it may change now we’re out, but most of it is down to the UK, not the EU.

So I question – is the real pain-point austerity and have people chosen the referendum as a vehicle to be heard? After all, this time, every vote really did count.

Which takes me back to my request of the Universe – is this the ‘right’ vote for our country? Has it taken something as massive as this for us to truly hear that all is not well in our land? Will the passion and upset now be strong enough to make the ordinary people stand up for what we believe to be right?

The 48% – what a metaphor!

What a metaphor we have here! I feel ignored, left out in the cold, angry. I am living in a country that’s going down a track I totally disagree with and I am helpless to change it. And Farage tells me it’s time to celebrate.

This must be how many people have felt in the UK over the past 30 years. If reports are right and those who voted Leave are the ‘have not’s’ then the worm has turned and we are ‘getting our own back’. Now we understand first hand what it feels like to be unheard and unrecognised.

So what if this is the point? Let’s assume the Leave result is showing us just how far off course we’ve gone; showing up the pain and anger that has been festering for so long. If we accept that, then we know what to do. We have a 21st century version of CND and ‘Greenham Common’ – a cause to fight for, something to feel passionate about. It’s time to care about each other again

Of course, I’m one of those dreaded Boomers, but it’s not just the olds. Chris Brosnahan is clearly on the same page – and very straightforward about it all. Thanks Chris!

https://medium.com/@ChrisBrosnahan/im-fucking-hopeful-4b06934f64bf#.9dznmxn4n

Taking action together

I’ve had the good fortune to connect with a group of the 48%’s in my home town. We self selected and took action together. We worked extremely hard together, made new friends, crossed party lines and now we’re grieving together. But we’re also seeing that we contributed to something positive. Our town was one of the top Remain areas outside of London with a very high turnout and we helped make that happen.

As the hours passed we also began to think forward – what do we need to do now? Sure, we’re still upset and angry, but if that energy gets us moving again, let’s go for it.

Maybe the fact that the ‘have’s’ have been thwarted is positive. Having the basics in life sorted makes it easier to fight for ourselves and others – as long as we see the need. So – maybe – in time we will say ‘thank you Mr Farage/Mr Johnson for spurring us to action and helping us see what we needed to do next’. And maybe we can pull together and make the UK a place to be proud of again.

So find your tribe and get moving – let’s get out there and make this good.

 

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