TaleCatcher - Tracy Kenny's blog

On conflict

Life's not all positive. We can react to it positively, but some things just stink.

I hope this blog isn't about putting a prettier clothes peg on your nose, and working your way through the stink. But sometimes I feel like it's all a bit too cheerleading. I stopped reading a blog because of that.

It's odd, because a) I thrive on a challenge, and you need some resistance in order for things to challenge; b) I believe Robert McKee's argument that conflict makes the story (in context of film and novel), and c) as a change agent, I spend a fair bit of time looking at what's not right. I guess the difference is that I try to then demonstrate how they could be better, and lead people there by example, rather than just moaning and complaining.

But you need a good dose of conflict - in life, in relationships, in work. If you think about it, even walking needs negative resistance. You can't walk on jelly.

Conflict gives you muscles.

The positivity thing is a point I've been mulling over for some time. And it's occured to me again, because I'm preparing to deliver the new tone of voice to our most influential. I'm looking at word clouds, and I've used one of the whizzy online tools (tagcrowd.com) to make word clouds to illustrate where our hearts and minds are, and how the things we dwell on come across in our words. I can see a shift in where we are, but I'm not sure we know how it should look. It's an interesting question - kind of an alphabetical transcription of an aura that hangs around us. What kind of words do I use?

Hang on, let's find out. I'll run everything from the blog from 2009...

I'm happy with this.

I especially like the 'sentence' read really something. :-)

Three cheers for going

In the last week I have said goodbye to many people who have been so important in my life over the last few years. That I knew them from work doesn't diminish their influence; because we worked in a team that was designed to help us grow personally into our very best, we played a huge part in bringing out the best in each other. And also I don't believe you can be a different person at home from at work - you are still you. But that's another discussion entirely.

I know we achieved what we set out to, because now that the team mandate is different, 19 of us have left. Only four remain, and I know that at least two of them wonder if they made the right decision. I'm still hanging around, but I have my reasons, and I count myself as a leaver. I'm just leaving more slowly, more strategically. But go back to those numbers: even people who were successful at keeping their jobs in the new world are leaving, because we all believe in ourselves, we all have clear values, we are strong to make brave decisions, and confident to discover what else life holds for us.

Three left it to the last minute to make up their minds. When I heard the news that S, in particular, was going to leave to start his tiling business, I threw my arms up in the air and cheered. Two of the remainder looked at me sourly and said it was nothing to cheer about. I bet it's not, from their perspective - they're left picking up the pieces, trying to put a new team together. But it's absolutely right to cheer, because I had a big heart-to-heart with him nearly a year ago, and I know what he wanted out of life. And my friend has also followed his heart. It would have been a tragedy for him to stay.

Now I hear that another has left, effective immediately. He wasn't in our team, but he was a sympathiser with our cause, a positive echo for our calls to change. He walked in the corridors of power, and yet he has also listened to his heart and has left. I'm told there is a health issue to consider. But I also know, from having talked with him and coached him on his stories, that he has discovered storytelling. I like to think that the stories he began telling helped him to make his move. Whatever spurred it, I am disappointed that we have lost another on 'our side,' but I am just thrilled for him.

So arms up in the air again, hurrah for you, P! Well done, and godspeed. Go spread the mission, wherever you go!

High five

Elena, who's fast approaching her fifth birthday, has discovered some old-fashioned ways of communicating. One is two thumbs up with a cheesy smile and a wink. Nice. Thaks Mr Murray (her music teacher).

The other is a high five. She asked to do it in the bath tonight. It was a bit splashy, but fun. And got me thinking. What's a high five about?

When we're driving up the tiny Ketteringham Road and another car pulls to the side so we can get through (the road is only wide enough for one car at a time, but the countryside is stunning), we wave to the other driver. Nearly every time Elena asks why I waved.

It's for the same reason that when I was leading her, age 3, and Kim's three boys through Wymondham, we put our hand up to the driver who let us go across the pedestrian crossing. I said to the boys, 'Give him a wave.' They all gave big flappy hello waves. It wasn't quite what I had in mind, but made the same point: it's about acknowledging the polite gesture he made.

In most of our interactions there's something else going on besides the words. I've discovered the word for this is 'subtext,' and it's actually the space where our relationships live or die - where we build rapport or destroy our faith in each other.

I haven't thought all of this through, completely, but I'm sure there's something to the high five. If you think back to the people who used to do it - who weren't five years old - and really meant it, for them it was about really being in tune with each other, and understanding where the other was coming from, and sharing sheer delight in being there together.