A Walk in the Lakes

Yesterday, a coaching client (let's call him Pete, as that's not his name...)  and I went for a walk. We started at the bottom of Haweswater, walked up the Riggindale Ridge onto High Street summit, with wonderful views of the Hellvelyn range, and Scafell and Crinkle Crags beyond; and then over Ill Bell, down to Nan Bield Pass, over Harter fell to Gatescarth Pass, and then back down to Haweswater: about 9 miles, and with over 2000 feet of height gain. It took most of the day and we then retired to the Haweswater Hotel for a coffee.

 

And Pete talked, and I listened, and we enjoyed the silence and the views. I started the conversation by reminding Pete of the pre-work he had done for the day, and that today was an opportunity for him to think out loud about the issues he wished to consider; and then I asked him where he wanted to start…

 The conversation was often very discursive: going off at tangents; but I trusted that Pete was talking about what was important to him.  I made some interventions: questions to clarify, reminders of where we were up to after we had distracted ourselves by commenting on the view or the wildlife, a couple of challenges; but relatively few.

And at the end of the day, Pete sat down and wrote some notes: an action plan and some reflections.  From all the discursive conversation, he had made substantial progress in his thinking about, and planning for, some complex and difficult issues and decisions that he faces. I asked whether he had got everything from the day that he had hoped to, and he raised one issue on which  he had hoped to make more progress.  I reflected that I thought we had discussed it in passing, and made a few observations on what I thought he had said. He agreed: we had indeed discussed it – and although we had not quite drawn that part of the conversation to its conclusion, we were quickly able to do so.

All of which made me reflect on the power of walking and coaching at the same time – which has always, in my experience, delivered great outcomes for the client.  Where does that power come from?  My hunch is that it is a combination of a number of factors: 

Thinking in advance - because he knew he was coming to discuss these issues for a whole day (and because I send him a series of questions) Pete had done a lot of thinking prior to the walk, and came full of questions and also half-formed (at least) insights; 

Time – to be silent and reflect, to allow for digression, for the brain to do its almost miraculous background processing;

Silence - merits a mention of its own. When you are walking together, long silences are fine, in a way that would be most uncomfortable in a normal coaching session.  I mean silences of 5 minutes or more.  And that allows for a lot of reflection and processing.

Walking side by side - in most coaching, eye contact plays an important role; but in walking coaching, eye contact is minimised; instead you look out at the world together, and that feels a very different dynamic (especially, I suspect, for introverts, as Pete is);

Perspective - it is a truism that one of the aims of coaching is to generate fresh perspectives; and there is something about the outdoors - particularly in the mountains, with the vast landscapes that we walked through, that really enables that;

Exercise and oxygenation - I think that these have a stimulating effect on the whole system, brain as well as body;

The different location - we had a very different conversation than we would have had in an office; indeed, it is hard to imagine having a day long 1-1 meeting indoors that would not be entirely dreadful!

The stimulus of the natural environment - the beauty of the fells, and also the danger (more apparent than real, perhaps) of the ridge walk all added to the experience.

And inevitably, the journey as a metaphor - there was one point when we were most of the way up the ridge (which has some sharp falls to either side, and Pete has vertigo...) when that was particularly acute…

Of course, this is not the first time I have done this: if you are interested in a previous client's reflections on the process, you can read them here; and there is a brief clip on YouTube of me being interviewed about walking coaching here.

Tempting Providence

I have blogged before about the value of meditation: here about the theoretical benefits and my struggle to maintain a commitment to it, and here with something of a progress report as I got the practice better established as part of my routine.

This last couple of weeks have been challenging ones in a number of ways, and on Friday I was reflecting with my coach how relaxed I have felt throughout it all, and how differently I have responded to the way I would have done even just two or three years ago.

The challenges have been many and varied, and I don't want to go into all of them now, but they range from a number of difficult client interactions to the timing belt on my car snapping, which means the engine will need to be re-built or replaced.

Being an introverted sort of chap, there is always the risk that I bottle these things up, until they blow (as my wife and children will quickly tell you, should you ask...)

But I have been much more serene though this bumpy patch and able to maintain a more detached perspective; and that has had a number of benefits. Thanks, at least in part, to good conversations with my coach, I handled some of the situations with more grace and ease, and as a result did not project my own anxieties into them so that they were not difficult after all.  Others remained difficult, but they did not get to me, and thus did not contaminate my other work nor disrupt my relaxation, recreation or sleep. (Though again, a quick conversation with my family might, of course, yield another perspective!)

And I do attribute this to the discipline of meditation which I now have reasonably well established as part of my daily routine. Those 15 minutes each day of prayerful calm are having a huge impact. On top of that, was the wonderful break I gave myself by taking three days off to walk from Paris to Chartres with three of my children (and many other pilgrims). That had the quality of a retreat in many ways: complete withdrawal from all the business of life (no mobile phone or emails...) and three days of simply, walking, talking, thinking, praying, eating and sleeping.

However, I clearly am not wholly without worries yet: for I have a nasty anxiety that blogging about this is tantamount to tempting Providence, and that pride cometh before destruction and all that...


So the next blog post you read here may conceivably be about a complete meltdown in the face of something trivial. But at present, that feels very unlikely.

Weather, Dog-walking and Progress

I have just sent the revised drafts of the final chapters of my book to Andrew Derrington, who is kindly acting as my coach/editor and external conscience.

That feels like a very positive achievement, although there are a couple of caveats.  The first is that I thought I had a complete draft of the book last January: when I sent it to Andrew at that stage, his comment was that it was not so much a draft as some notes for a book... Alas, he was right. Thanks to his help and support, it is very much better now than it was then.

The second caveat is that although I have practically finished the last chapters, I have still got a lot of work to do on the first.  That is deliberate: we agreed that it made sense to edit the introductory part of the book once I was clear how the rest was turning out.


That proved wise, as I have recently removed four chapters that were essentially digressions. They are interesting (to me, at any rate) but detracted from the focus and clarity of the book. I will post them as blog posts on the new, dedicated blog I plan to launch when the book comes out. As I put it to one friend and colleague recently: 'Generally, I’ve decided the book is for my half-formed thoughts. Quarter-formed ones will go on the blog!'

It is perhaps no coincidence that the work rate on the book has accelerated recently: the very cold weather here has meant that it has been less tempting to skive off and walk the dog, and more inviting to stay by the stove and write. 

I should make it clear that the dog is still getting plenty of exercise, just not quite as much (on writing days) as she used to.

So I now have the early chapters to revise, and then there is some work to be done on graphics, illustrations and so on, and then... well don't hold your breath, but I am hoping for an announcement later this year...

A Night Walk

Periodically, I meet a few fellow consultants for a day's walking and talking.  We call it cpd to feel good about it: and in truth, I often learn a lot by comparing experiences, sharing dilemmas, and stealing ideas...

Alan Sides suggested a while back that we should try a night walk, so we did that.  Everyone was very keen on the  idea, but as the February night approached, one by one they dropped out.

So it was only four of us, Alan, Mike Cockburn, Stephen Merckx and myself who undertook the walk.  We left my house at about 10.45pm and drove to the bottom of Haweswater.  Thence we climbed up an extremely icy path to Small Water.

The moon was a few days short of full, and very bright, the stars clear and twinkling, and the air crisp and very cold (-5 when we started).

From Small Water - beautiful and atmospheric in the moonlight - we climbed up to Nan Bield Pass, where we got the full force of the wind.  Thence onwards and upwards, right onto High Street Summit at Racecourse Hill.  The ice was slippery, and the snow was deep: it was all much harder work than we had foreseen.  Fortunately we were all pretty fit, and had all kitted ourselves out appropriately.

From Racecourse Hill we walked over successively lower hills, one after the other, until Loadpot, the last summit of the walk.  In my memory (and it was a bit dark for maps, as the moon had set at about 5.00 and it was now nearly 5.30) it was a fairly short walk down from Loadpot Hill onto Askham Fell and so home.

Not so, but far otherwise: it was another 2 hours before we got back to Helton (via a small detour, due to the paths being completely hidden by the snow).

Breakfast has rarely tasted so good.

I enjoyed the experience greatly, as I think the others did too.

We did talk a fair bit, but much of the walk was in silence: so in terms of cpd it didn't quite live up to expectations.  But if the others are still talking to me after I led them on such a tough expedition, I'm sure I'll learn plenty more from them next time.

Half term

Half term is upon us, so today we went for a walk: Hartsop, Boredale Hause, Angle Tarn and Hayeswater, for those who know the area.  Largely walking through cloud, but a great time had by all. Matters philosophical and cinematic (and many others) discussed in depth and levity...  Jane, Mike, Liz, Lulu and me...  This is probably why I'll never be rich or famous, but it's the path I choose.

Walking writing...

I blogged a while back about walking coaching and how valuable that can be.

Yesterday I was stuck on a chapter on coaching in the book I'm writing, and instead of sitting industriously, virtuously, diligently at my Mac, I put on some waterproofs and took Lulu for a walk.

To assuage my (rather weak) pangs of guilt, I slipped my voice recorder in my pocket to record any inspirations.

By the end of plodding through muddy fields, doubled up against the gales and rain, I had recorded a few good insights and in particular had found a new way into the chapter: starting it from a quite different perspective than I had originally intended.

So the risk now is that I spend tons of time walking the dog in my carefully preserved 'writing' slots in the diary.  Will have to monitor that, but if yesterday is anything to go by, that could be very productive.

Walking CPD

A great day's walking with Alan, Glyn, Karen, Mike and Paul: a stimulating set of colleagues with whom to share experiences, compare notes, refresh thinking etc.  Met at Haweswater around 10.00, and walked up ont Harter Fell, Nan Bield, Mardale Ill Bell, High Street, and Kidsty Pike.  8.5 miles and 2000 feet of height gain.  Sorted the world out pretty thoroughly en route.

Walking Meeting

I wrote about Walking Coaching a few posts ago - but it is worth putting on the record that walking meetings can be very productive too.

We had a partnership meeting on Monday: Jane is both my business partner (as an accountant she is a brilliant head of finance and admin) and my wife.

So we had a partnership meeting, setting the world (or at least the business) to rights as we walked over Pikewassa (complete with dog and two of the children, as it's half term - but they entertained themselves while we talked).

This is not (purely) self-indlugent: as with coaching, you have a different quality of conversation when walking in the great outdoors to the conversations you have sat over a desk or even a coffee table.

If you are looking to solve problems, be creative, share dreams and visions, and commune in a different way, then walking meetings are well worth a try.

Here's where we went:

More on Walking Coaching

Back in August, I posted about Walking and Coaching and how well they work together.

Here is one client's feedback (he's a bit of an addict  - keeps coming back for more...)

'You must be mad to go up there on a day like this' said my wife as I packed my things for my 'Day in the Lakes' with Andrew. Well the gloomy forecast of gales and snow did not materialise and I had one of the most memorable personal development days in my professional life so far.

Having finally heaved my weary bones to the top of a snow-capped Blencathra, the views that we enjoyed that day down into the valleys below were breathtaking. Every morning when I come into the office, log onto my pc, the photograph from the peak of Blencathra as my screensaver reminds me of that experience and, as a relatively inexperienced hill walker, the exhilaration of having made it to the top and back. 

The opportunity to get away from the office, the phone and email and just have time to think (and chat) was such a privilege and one that I shall remember for years to come. Coupled with the chance to walk and talk with Andrew about my own 'journey' was an experience I shall never forget. Andrews local knowledge of the safe routes up and down Blencathra coupled with the perceptive, sensitive way in which we explored the issues that I had identified for discussion about my own 'journey' was an experience I shall never forget. 

Its too early to say whether this experience was life-changing, but it has had an effect in the short term. Like the view down the valley, the walk with Andrew helped to put things into perspective and work out where I am going and how best to get there.

What Andrew sells (so subtly) is hope - in my case hope that with some simple strategies I will be able to make more effective use of my time and be able to cope better with the day-to-day demands of my job, the things that I'm paid to do now, but somehow to create time to make real progress in the strategic things that will benefit me (and indirectly I hope my employer too) in the longer term

A grand day out - Andrew's relaxed and easy going manner made the whole experience so enjoyable.

Walking Coaching

Talking with Liz and Stuart of Coaching Connect the other day, I was struck by how interested they were in coaching while walking.  (Liz has posted a snippet of our conversation about walking coaching on Youtube, here).

I have done this for a while and often find it very powerful.  It can range from simply suggesting to a client that we go for a walk if we are struggling for ideas in the middle of a session (round the streets or ideally into a nearby park) to clients booking a day or half a day for a serious walk in the hills.

Both my clients and I find it a different experience - and it always adds real value to the session.

I think there are many reasons for this, working on many different levels:

• Walking side by side enables a different type of conversation compared with sitting looking at each other;
• Exercise and movement stimulate the oxygenation of the brain;
• Any kind of journey is a great metaphor for almost anything;
• The larger horizon (particularly from the top of Blencathra, say...) seems to expand our mental field of vision;
• The difference of the experience, compared to a normal day at the office, makes it very memorable (one client has a picture taken on one of our walks as his screensaver, to remind him of the learning from that day - he can still remember what we discussed on each section of the walk);
• Silence, and thus reflection, are much easier when out walking;
• Taking a generous half day, or better a full day, provides the space in time to match the space in the outdoors, enabling us really to explore possibilities in depth - without it feeling too intense (few people could stand being sat across the table from one other person focussing on one thing for a whole day - but when walking it becomes not only easy, but pleasurable).

I am sure there are more reasons for the power of this approach, but these are the ones that strike me at present.

A Day's Walking

I was due to have a day's walking coaching with a client yesterday, but by Tuesday the weather forecast looked so dreadful that we decided to re-schedule.

Then on Thursday morning, the forecast wasn't nearly so bad - cloud at 750m and a 40% chance of rain.

So I decided to take the day off and go walking with the family.  We had a fabulous time: went over High Spy, down to Deepdale Tarn, up to Deepdale Head, over Hindscarth and back down to Little Town where we'd left the car.  About 9 miles in all, with about 2500 feet of height gain.

Fabulous views of Bassenthwaite, Derwent and Buttermere, and all the fells surrounding them - and the rain stayed off, and we were just below the clouds.  And as ever, conversation is very rich when you are out for a long walk - which is why it's so good for coaching.  I'll have to blog about that next....