growth mindset

It’s OK to Mourn the Small Stuff Before You Move On: How riding the emotional wave has benefits in developing who you are

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I suspect that many people opening this blog may be thinking that I’m going to write something about loss, and I am, but not necessarily about the loss of a person. So bear with me whilst I explain why I wanted to write this today, as it isn’t the post is I meant to write this evening.

This post was inspired by the re-emergence in my life of a giant Eeyore that my sister brought me when my mother in law sadly passed away. He’s almost the same size as me and gave me huge comfort on my first encounter with significant grief. Then my sister passed away unexpectedly and he came to represent a lot of loss I couldn’t process. That was over 15 years ago, and today he has finally come out of the attic to live under my desk, regaining his position of comforter. I’m not over what happened to my sister, but I’ve finally reached a place where the things that I associate most strongly with her are things I want in my life, rather than being a trigger for trauma. How does this connect to a post about wider emotional processing? It struck me when he gained his new position that we make time and allow for grief about the big things, but the need to go through similar, shorter, processes for other scenarios is seldom acknowledged.

I’ve posted before about how important it is to celebrate, both the big and the small things, and today has made me think about how the converse is probably true, do we need to acknowledge and make room for grief and mourning in response to less dramatic changes in our lives? Often we are told to ‘buck up’ or ‘pull it together’ but for specific, delineated time frames, should we actually just hand each other a box of tissues and some ice cream and accept the benefits of a good wallow?

I think there is a certain amount of social acceptance of loss related to people and the grief associated with it. It strikes me, however, there is much less acceptance of loss related to other things. Loss that occurs to all of us during our lives and can impact how we see ourselves or the world. Missing out on our dream job, drifting from a close friendship, or even the loss of a favourite pair of shoes. These things may  sound small, but variations of them will impact us all, and if we save permission to feel sad and grieve only for the big things we may not deal well with the impact of routine losses that end up hitting us just as hard because we’ve ignored processing them. So in contrast to celebration, I thought I would talk about the moments that I consider ‘wallow worthy’ and encourage us all to allow space for a little mourning.

The Power of Celebration: Why we should see celebration as essential and not a selfish act

Mourn a vision of the future that will no longer be

In my post about losing my sister I talk about the loss of the idea of being a mother and developing that new family unit. There are plenty of other ways this form of loss can hit however, all of which are still valid.

There are many things in life that we can sometimes take for granted when we are younger. The fact that we will find Mr/Mrs/They right and will have companionship. That we will have a permanent home that we enjoy. That we will have a sense of community and a way to express ourselves. Things that are just assumed will happen at some point, but in some cases, and for some people, never quite arrive. It doesn’t mean that not having those things will make you unhappy. I know many people who are content without some or all of those things. That doesn’t mean, howver, that there won’t be moments, days, or even weeks, where you don’t mourn the fact that some things that are just considered ‘a given’ haven’t been given to you. Contentment does not rule out a sense of loss at what might have been and it is OK to recognise that and mourn it for a while, despite acknowledging that you are still content with your lot. In fact, going through the acknowledgement and mourning process may be the only way that you truly come to terms with the reality of your life.

Mourn the loss of your sense of identity

There are numerous points in our lives when we change how we view ourselves. When you become parents and leave behind a phase when you can focus entirely on yourself. When you retire, and have to discover who you are when you no longer have the structure and identity of yourself as part of an organisation by which to define yourself. There are many reasons why your sense of identity could shift, and many of them are actually positive. The positive direction of travel may not however mean that you don’t mourn and miss who you were before. In fact, this is one where acknowledging the change may be a really important health and wellbeing piece to ensure success in your future identity.

We all know those people who cling tightly to who they were in their twenties, even though decades have passed, or the people that retire who can never really step away from their old place of work. Denying that our identities are rooted in both time and place, and that letting those go requires a level of emotional processing, can lead to less healthy long term outcomes. This one can be especially tricky as we are often expected to enter new phases of our lives with unconditional joy, and being sad or worried about what you are leaving behind is often taboo. It is essential to acknowledge the complex emotions linked to these transitions however, in order to make them well.

Mourn the loss of an aspiration unfulfilled

There is never enough time. Long and short, time is a limiting factor. You may not be able to get onto that PhD that spoke to you, write the book you’ve been talking about down the pub for years, or give a key note speech at a conference. Aspirations are tangible goals that are possible to achieve, and therefore it can sometimes hit even harder when you stop to reflect 20 years on and you haven’t managed to tick a box on your list that you’ve been hanging onto for years.

There are all kinds of reasons why an aspiration may not occur. Sometimes, life takes us in a different direction. Sometimes, you don’t manage to make the time or succeed in the steps that lead up to the final goal end point. The fact that it should be achievable can make the lack of fulfillment hurt even more. It can often feel within reach, and yet keep slipping away.

Without being able to reflect, and experience the emotion linked to the loss, it can be challenging to decide if the aspiration is still important enough that it is worth trying to achieve. Without looking into the face of it and mourning how the loss feels, you can’t decide how much you are invested in the outcome. Feeling the loss is crucial in determining fresh priorities for the future.

Mourn the loss of a dream

For me, the difference between a dream and an aspiration is the likelihood of it happening. Dreams are less based in reality. There is often not a tangible 10 step plan you are following to get from point A to point B. It doesn’t mean that you will be any less emotionally invested in them. In fact, we are often more invested because we are aware of the challenge that dream will face from others.

I’ve known multiple people who were exceptional dancers who had their dreams of dancing professionally taken away by injury. I’ve known wonderful writers, who have given up on their dreams because they had families to support and the jobs required to do so meant they let go of their dreams to focus on their reality.

Dreams also form a part of self identity, and letting go of a dream can, therefore, cause us to be confronted with the reality of who we are and what we can actually achieve. This process can be incredibly painful and letting go of that hope for the future requires going through a grief process. People will often say that you should just get a new dream, but to actually do that requires you to truly process the loss of the old. So, no matter how much the dream felt like a work of fiction, its removal is something that needs grounding in emotional processing in order to move forward.

Mourn the loss of an ideal

This one I find particular interesting at the moment. I work for an organisation I love, but because of system changes outside of any of our control, it no longer feels like the place that I have loved and been invested in for over 2 decades of my life. It is still there, but feels tarnished somehow. The same can happen with people you love and respect. There is, after all, the famous saying that you shouldn’t meet your idols, and that is often because they often won’t live up to the ideal we have set for them.

I still love the place I work, but I am seeing it through a lens right now where I am confronted with sides of it that don’t look the same now I have removed my rose tinted glasses. It doesn’t mean it’s bad, it just means that to be able to continue to work there and maintain my commitment, I need to acknowledge the difference and mourn the loss of the ideal I used to hold.

There are so many examples of this right now, from how I feel about the political scenario in the US, to the disappointment I experience at the reported behaviours of some of my favourite writers or directors. It does no one any good to pretend that the complexity of the world do not exist, but I sometimes mourn the loss of my naivety. It may that being more enlightened is a good thing, but a period of mourning to move on is still required to help me process and plan for my new reality.

Mourn the loss of an opportunity

This is one I’ve talked about before, in talking about my process for handling failure whether linked to papers, grants, or other things. It is not possible to be 100% successful, in fact within the failure is the learning that is so important to succeeding in your eventual outcomes. I’d be lying if I said that failure is fun though. Even with a growth mindset, where you embrace the positivity of failure, it can still get to you.

I allow myself a short defined period of mourning and wallowing when I am confronted with failure, in order to allow me to take the next step bravely. This kind of mourning of the loss of opportunity can link to everything from job applications, to trying to get tickets to Glastonbury. You may learn from the process to be able to increase your chances of future success, but if you don’t process the failure you may be too disappointed to try again or approach the next chance with the learning necessary to increase subsequent chances.

For me, a great example of this is when I need to respond to reviewers about a paper. If I haven’t stepped away from the reviewers comments in order to just mourn and be irritated in response to their criticism, when I come back I will respond from that emotional space instead of from one of balanced logic. This is likely to make the response less well balanced, and possibly lead to additional unnecessary failure. Allow myself 48 hours to step away and wallow however, and I’m good to go with the next step.

Mourn the loss of a connection

Someone recently said to me that friendships are for a season, and it’s really stuck with me. My life has diverted substantially from the lives that some of my close friends lead. They have gone on to have families, which are understandably a large focus of their time. There are parts of their lives and conversations linked to their day to day realities that I simply can’t partake in. When I have been surrounded by a group of friends who are all young mothers, I simply don’t have the context to discuss the best cream to deal with nappy rash or the latest school communication on head lice. You therefore become less and less present within their lives.

They also probably don’t understand my joy at getting 5000 words down for my book on a weekend, or how excited I’ve been to record a specific podcast. It’s not that I love them any less, or they me, we’ve just lost some of the grounds for connection that we previously had.

It’s OK to feel sad and mourn the change, but it is part of life, and so acknowledging the way you feel is important, otherwise it can actually get in the way of friendships and lead to them ending when they could otherwise continue, just in a different form.

I have to be honest here, and say I have been with the amazing Mr Girlymicro for over 20 years so I don’t have good experience, but I imagine the same is true with dating and other forms of connectivity. To develop a new type of connection, you need to acknowledge the loss/change of the old, in order to build new foundations.

Not all loss is big but it’s OK to recognise what it means and why before you move on

Many of the things I’ve talked about are big things, but I just want to throw in a call here for being able to grieve for the loss of the little things (in a proportionate little way). The loss of you favourite dress because it has finally fallen to pieces through excess use, or because someone down the pub spilled red wine all over it. In my case, often the loss of a favourite teapot or piece of china, that holds emotional meaning for me and I’ve dropped on the floor.

Not everything has to be big. Some days, it’s OK to acknowledge that something sucks, and spend the time it takes to watch a weepy movie to help you process it. I embrace the fact that we support each other by trying to cheer each other up, especially as these mourning periods should have a time limit, but we should also allow a certain amount of ‘wallow window’ to let people truly process in order to make the most out of their lives.

Mr Girlymicro and I call this visiting the pit of despair. The pit of despair is filled with cushions, tea, and chocolate, but not so comfortable that you can move in there. So allow yourself to visit the pit when you need to, but make sure you keep the rope ladder to hand for when you need to climb out. It is a place to visit and come out renewed, not to exist within.

All opinions in this blog are my own

A Thank You to All the Cheerleaders: At the end of a tough 2024 my gratitude for all the support

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2024 was always going to be tough. Wonderful colleagues were facing challenges on all fronts. Close family members were going through significant change. Things that were going to impact not just my ability to balance life and work but also how that life was lived were very obviously coming down the line. I don’t know about you, but as a planner, I sometimes find the anticipation of the bad ‘stuff’ almost worse than its arrival, and 2024 kicked off with plenty of anticipation.

Now the end of 2024 is so close I can almost taste it, and much of the ‘stuff’ has both come and gone, I find myself still standing and grateful for all of you that have supported in enabling this to be the reality.

As a result of this year, I have spent a lot of time thinking about what keeps me going, what I need, and what I’m grateful for. None of the answers to these questions were linked to productivity or achievement. The answers, as it turned out, were all linked to people and relationships. These people, connections, and relationships were the answer to all my questions and remain the foundation of my everything. So, for my last post in 2024, I wanted to put something in writing that says thank you and talks about all the reasons why you are my team and my cheerleaders. You guys are the best!

I don’t need to see you to know that you are there

When times are hard, or adversity strikes, it is easy to end up feeling isolated and alone. It can be tempting to disconnect and enter protective mode, where you share less of who you are in order to limit your exposure. One of the things this year has shown me is how fortunate I am to never really feel that way. I know that whatever the world throws at me I am not alone. I am so lucky to have Mr and Mummy Girlymicro in my life, but it’s not just them. I posted this time last year about the amazing close friendships I have with some of my girls. These people, who I may not have even managed to see in person this year, are still there supporting me, even if I haven’t had a lot of time to connect. I still know that they are there and are backing me. I know if I reached out and I needed them, they would be there in a heartbeat. I’m aware of the privilege of this, and I am thankful for it every day.

We don’t need to always agree

One of the greatest signs of trust in any relationship is feeling safe enough to disagree, whether it be in work, romantic, family or friend based relationships. In travelling uncharted territory, there is no rule book and often no guide for how to make decisions or choices. This uncertainty can therefore inevitably lead to differences of opinion about what is the right approach in any given moment. Being able to disagree and yet still feel supported whilst working through the disagreement, in an attempt to reach consensus or just accept difference, is a real blessing. Even more so if it can happen without triggering preexisting insecurities or feeling exposed to judgement. I am trying to make conscious decisions to value moments where I learn more about myself and others by going through these disagreements, whilst also knowing how fortunate I am to have people in my life who are a safe space for these moments to occur with.

You forgive me for making mistakes

The process of learning and growing is not an easy one, and sometimes we have to face difficulty truths about ourselves and our flaws. I am flawed. I make mistakes, like ALL the time. I’d like to think that I grow each time and try not to make the same mistake twice, but even that is not 100%. One of the benefits of learning from disagreements is that it helps to garner enough understanding from any negative outcome that results to help make better choices in the future. I am grateful to my wonderful colleagues, friends, family and readers of this blog, for not only forgiving me for making those mistakes but also supporting me in sharing my journey in learning from them, not only face to face but also in this blog. My hope is always, that by being open, I support others in making more informed choices as we are all learning together.

You lift me when I am low

This year has had some significant lows. It has has included the deaths of some significant figures in my life, such as Professor Nigel Klein, who had been a key part of my working life for almost 20 years. He was the person who supported me in my first steps in academia, who supported and supervised me during my PhD, and has continued to be a key figure in my clinical academic career ever since. Significant health challenges have been present for colleagues and family and this has hit me hard at times, even if I am not the person unwell. I’ve been feeling pretty mortal, and also powerless to help in any meaningful way. So many of you have been so kind and lifted my spirits, from sending memes or commenting on the blog, to unexpected treats from friends and family that have made me feel seen and loved. Having a safety net of people who are prepared to pick up the slack when I’ve struggled or to remind me that everything will be OK has been an invaluable asset in 2024.

You drive me to be the best version of myself

When the world is overwhelming, when everything feels too much, it can be so tempting to want to throw in the towel and just ride the wave. Having to try (and sometimes fail) to get this blog out every week and to continue to show up has been crucial to just keeping me going whatever my mood. There have been weeks when this blog hasn’t happened. There have been days when I haven’t delivered in the way that I would wish. I have certainly been too tired to step up and see people or do things on the weekends or in my free time. Knowing that there is an expectation of levels of engagement, be it from my PhD students, colleagues, readers of this blog, or family, has kept me going and kept me present. You support me in trying to be the best version of myself and to keep showing up in the best way I can in the moment. You support me in not just accepting but seeking out things that challenge me and keep me on my learning pathway. Hopefully, I then get to feed that back via this blog, and therefore the loop continues.

I know you would always straighten my crown without telling me it was crooked

We’ve all been there, we’ve sent an email or written a slide, and it’s not quite right. There are people who reply to you and give you a heads up so you can issue a no drama correction, and there are people who reply all or stand up at the end of the talk to point out your error. I count myself so fortunate to have so many people who sit in the former rather than the latter bracket in my life. This is a pretty basic example, but I’m hoping you see what I’m trying to say. I have so many people in my corner who will steer me back on course when I’m beginning to drift, or who will gently escort me from a conversation that I’m not in the right head space to have. People who know when I need saving from myself, from reminding me that having that dairy filled cake is not wise, to pointing out that I can’t physically manage to book myself into speaking at three conferences in different cities in a week. I know my well-being is at the centre of their actions, and having that safety net is of incalculable value to me.

We are in this journey together

When I made my first blog post in 2015 I didn’t even know what this blog was going to be. When I started posting regularly in 2020, I knew my why but I didn’t really know my how. Now, looking back on the last 200+ posts I feel like I’m more comfortable with some of the how. My next challenge is the where. I feel very much like I want to continue to grow and that this blog is a medium through which I can do that. I’ve learnt so much from the journey so far, but I am certain there is so much further I want to go. This year the blog broke 20,000 reads for the first time, and that makes me feel like we are in this journey together, wherever it might lead. I love seeing the interactions when I post. I love hearing your thoughts and feedback. I love feeling like this is something we are doing together and that I learn from you as much as you, hopefully, learn from my experiences. I don’t know where this road ends, but I know that I am determined to keep following it.

You understand that performance is not consistent

This post has been really hard to write for some reason. It’s taken me hours of staring at the screen, and I don’t know how well it will be received. Some posts spring to life, almost fully formed, and take no time at all to write. Some just make themselves harder work. I am pretty sure, therefore, that not all of them knock it out of the park. There are certainly ones that speak to some people more than others. Having spent some time thinking about it, I’ve decided that this is OK. As long as my intention is to communicate something, and I never post for the sake of posting, then how it lands is out of my control. The main thing is that I always try to do my best.

The same is true with posting frequency. I will always try to post weekly, but this year has shown me that sometimes I just can’t manage that. I used to obsess and spiral about it, and now I’ve decided that if I am not in the head space to write something worthwhile, I am better waiting until that resolves. I’ve been so grateful with the patience shown to me on this front in 2024 and that you have stuck with both me and this blog through all the random trains of thought and erratic posting frequencies.

You don’t judge me when I bear my soul

I try to always be honest in this blog. I try to share both the good and the bad, in a balanced but honest way. The concept of authentic leadership is important to me, and to fulfill it I think I need to show all sides of myself. I can only do this because I feel that I have built up a trust and feeling of safety in writing this blog over the years.

I remember when I first started to post things that were more personal, I used to brace myself for the comeback. I almost expected my confessions of inadequacy or failures to be weaponised against me. In all the 200+ posts that have been written, I’ve only had a single comment that could be considered to be less than supportive of my sharing, and even this was written (I believe) from a place that the author thought it would be helpful. As a result of this building of trust, I write from a space where I am comfortable sharing my lived experience without revision or overlay. I genuinely believe that this means that the sharing has much more value because of it. So, thank you for supporting me in getting to this place of confidence and comfort and always encouraging me to bring my full self to our interactions.

I hear you when you tell me this is valued

In my darker moments this year, when I was questioning a lot of the things that required focus or time, I reflected on whether writing this blog was something that was valued by anyone but me. Whether it was a good use of several hours of my time every week, when I didn’t have time for a bubble bath or other self care. Then every time I went to a conference I would have lovely conversations with people about the blog, and all of them were so positive, and inspired me so much.

Over the last year, I’ve even had people spontaneously mention it in meetings or 1:1 interactions. It’s hard to communicate how much this means. When I sit on my sofa and need to choose between pulling out the laptop to write or watching some trashy TV to unwind, it is these interactions that keep me reaching for my laptop. When I’m on the tube and I need to choose between closing my eyes and escaping into an audio book or doing some blog writing on my phone. It is the memory of these moments that keep me plugging away. Knowing that others value reading this blog, hearing stories in response to putting my experiences out there, make every minute spent worthwhile. So thank you, thank you for giving this blog meaning, thank you for showing the time invested has value, and thank you for taking time out of your lives to join me in this endeavour that means so much to me.

All opinions in this blog are my own

Understanding the Scope of Our Influence: Why we have to stop trying to ‘fix’ everything

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I was having a retro moment recently, and I happened to hear The Mending Song from Bagpuss. It landed with me in a way that it hadn’t before. Many of us are ‘fixers’, that’s probably the reason we ended up working in healthcare. We are focussed on trying to make everything better, be that people, organisations, cultures or situations. There is no challenge that many of our ‘fix it’ nature’s won’t try to tackle.

This seemed especially poignant, as I posted last month about approaches when work life becomes challenging. A key aspect that struck me when I was writing that post was about really understanding what sits within our scope to impact and what doesn’t. There’s a really clear reason why it is important to understand this. If the thing you are trying to impact or ‘fix’ is outside your scope of impact or control, no matter how much you want it to be otherwise, you are setting yourself up for failure if your success criteria include change. You are setting yourself up for disappointment, stress, and frustration before you even start. This doesn’t mean that you can’t work to change your scope of influence or set a different set of success criteria, but that is really a different thing. If just just dive right in there, without first addressing this fundamental barrier, all you will impact is your blood pressure.

We will find it, we will bind it We will stick it with glue, glue, glue We will stickle it, every little bit of it We will fix it like new, new, new.

So, how do we understand what is in and out of our scope to impact or control. Well, there are layers to this, and it does truly depend on whether you are trying to influence or whether you are going as far as trying to control.

In terms of true control, the only person is we can exert that on is ourselves. Trying to control anything else sets us up for failure. So why did we try?

Impact and influence are a bit different. I think deep down we know the piece about control, but we are less good at having the conversation with ourselves about impact and influence. We start trying to ‘fix’ things and then see ourselves as failures when it doesn’t happen. The years during and since the pandemic have been a real life lesson in this area for me. So, in this post I’m going to talk about 6 areas where I’ve sought to undertake ‘the fix’, failed, and learnt why I’d set myself up with expectations that could not be achieved.

You can’t always ‘fix’ people

Throughout my life, I have been a somewhat collector of lost souls. From early boyfriends to PhD students who have had supervision issues, I’m a real believer that we should always be there for others and take situations as we find them, rather than judging based on hearsay or prior scenarios. Before I get started here, I’d like to say that I still strongly believe in this. What I have learnt the hard way though is that a certain percentage of time, the prior experiences of the person are so strong that patterns cannot be altered. If you take the open door approach, there will, therefore, be times when you can’t change the outcomes in the way you’d like.

When this happened to me recently, I wasted a lot of time agonising about what I should have done differently, where my flaws were in terms of response, where I had failed. I have come to realise that that time was wasted emotional energy that removed my focus from other important things. Don’t get me wrong, I think active reflection is always important, but there is a difference between that and entering into a self flagellation pity party. One is essential and productive, and the other leads to spirals and self recrimination.

Once I exited the spiral I realised I had fallen into thinking I had control rather than understanding my influence on another person, especially a person who is not a close friend or family, is always going to be highly limited. You can offer support, and you can change environments within your influence, but the person who actually has the control is the individual you are aiming to support. The work has to be done by them and not you. You can’t work harder as a surrogate for them.

As a result of this, I’m trying to be much more self-aware of where my control actually sits and using this to support my thinking in terms of boundaries and expectation setting. I’m giving myself permission to avoid entering into relationships that extend beyond support into ‘fixing’ territory. I’m also learning that this is important in maintaining my mental health and well-being. It is hard to see how badly those can be impacted until the situation is resolved, but I can’t help anyone else if I am not in a good space, and so sacrificing my mental well being is actually a short sighted response that leads to no one getting a good outcome in the end. It feels selfish, but sometimes you have to put yourself first.

You can’t always ‘fix’ situations

There are plenty of times when people come to you as someone in a leadership position and want you to ‘fix’ something. Sometimes, this is possible, often, more often than I’d hoped, you can make or help someone to make a step, but the ‘fix’ is out of your control.

On a large scale, I have previously written about some of the decision-making  during the pandemic. It was a really humbling and eye opening experience to discover how quickly scope of influence can expand and contract, and how much that scope of influence changes based on whether you are currently acting in the role of decision maker or not. Having people come to you and advocate for vastly different positions, combined with actually having a time limited ability to influence, made me realise how important it is to face up to the reality of where your scope lies. It also made me realise how much you may need to review where those zones lie in rapidly changing situations. Relationships and scopes of influence are never static and so always require periodic review, but this is even more important in changing or high stakes situations.

On a one to one level, I often experience this, not about organisational but about individual situations. A common one is the ‘I want to do a PhD’ approach. This happens multiple times each year. Sometimes, people just want more information about the pathway or what the options are. I’ve written a blog about this as I get asked the question a lot. Other times, it’s framed more like ‘what can you do to get me a PhD?’. In these circumstances, I give the information, but I often get stared at towards the end as if I’m not delivering. I then have to enter the discussion that acquiring a PhD is a self driven process and needs the individual to drive it. The same is true with a lot of postgraduate training pathways or career opportunities.  I can help and support, but I can’t do it for them. I can’t ‘fix’ the holes on CVs that need filling. Only they can do that. I can open doors, but they are the ones that need to choose to walk through them.

You can’t always ‘fix’ injustice

Sometimes, when I’m approached, it is about a situation, but just on the surface. When you dig deeper, it’s not about someone not stepping up and doing the work. It’s about a whole bunch of barriers they didn’t know about or haven’t been able to fix. Individuals either then reach out or I become aware, and of course, what I want to do is ride into those barriers, sledge hammer swinging, and break them down to bring equity and justice to the situation. This is definitely one where I thought, and do, have more influence over as I get more senior. The sad news is that although I can do more, I’m discovering I still can’t ‘fix’ everything.

I have a great number of examples on this one, anything from male colleagues not having to apply for or be interviewed for roles when female colleagues are made to jump through hoops, to scientists getting paid a third less to do the same jobs as medical colleagues. I wish I didn’t have so many, but if I started listing, I would be here all day.

So if I can’t fix it, what are my other routes of action. Well, firstly, writing things like this blog enables me to shine a light and at least raise awareness of the injustices I can’t ‘fix’. Then there are a whole bunch of active positions I can take with my leadership, even if the issue is too big for me to ‘fix’ alone. Actions such as advocacy and saying people names in rooms where they are absent in order to increase access. Being brave enough to call things out as they happen, challenging that misogynistic, racist or homophobic comment in the moment, and taking a stand. Being accountable and actively demonstrating my values, and by doing so, hopefully offering a safe space to those who might need it. Being there to support, whilst acknowledging that no sledgehammer wielded by a single person is going to be enough, so you have to lift up others so you can hammer those walls together.

You can’t always ‘fix’ cultures

Organisational cultures bring with them different values and different aims. They are complex and act almost like living beings, in that they develop and change over time. If ‘fixing’ individuals is difficult, then ‘fixing’ cultures can come with mind-boggling complexity.

One of the things I’ve found challenging is when I’ve been part of a group or organisation which started off with values that were completely aligned with my personal value set, which is the reason I joined, and then morphed into something where those two things were far from the same. It is also complicated even further when the espoused values do match, but the values demonstrated by the group decision making tell a different story.

There are a few different choices I’ve made at various points in my life and career, depending on how much continued participation mattered to me. The big one is always do you stay or do you go. Do you stay and try to influence internally, or do you call it quits and move on to something that is better aligned. The right decision, for me, is based on a) how committed you are to the purpose of said group and b) how much influence do you have to affect the change you want to make?

Large-scale organisations are even more complex as they not only have an overall culture,  but they will also consist of a number of smaller subcultures, which may be easier to change or influence. I count myself fortunate to be part of a team that I feel is super aligned with my values and beliefs. It hasn’t always been that way however. I’ve been part of other teams that haven’t been the same. On one occasion, many moons ago, my then team mates and I even had to escalate that we would leave if a change in leadership did not occur as the disconnect was so pronounced.  This was one of the most powerful examples of collective action I’ve been involved with, and it succeeded because our point of escalation was also aligned to our values and purpose. Knowing your scope of influence and the landscape you are navigating can therefore be incredibly powerful,  but understanding that scope is key to success.

You can’t always ‘fix’ the way others see the world

Firstly, and I cannot say this strongly enough, just because someone holds a different opinion, view, or vision of the world to you does not automatically make them wrong. There is room for diversity of thought in this world, and the very presence of that diversity makes us stronger as a whole. This is especially true when that diversity of thought is not causing anyone harm and drives us to better evolve our thinking in response.

The ‘not causing harm’ component of this one is key for me. If that world view is harming others by restricting access to care or opportunities, for example, I will always endeavour to challenge, as already discussed. What I’m having to learn, though, is that that challenge does not necessarily lead to changes in behaviour, no matter how many facts you put behind the discussion. Human beings are complex, and they have both intrinsic and extrinsic beliefs. Sometimes, it’s not even those that are proclaiming their beliefs that are the ones who are most firmly set in their world view and then it can be difficult to even identify where to start your discussions.

I think accepting our scope of influence in these cases is crucial to understand in order to not get disheartened.  In a world of spiralling conspiracy theories and loss of faith in science, it is important to know that it is not just a case of sitting someone down with a bunch of evidence and having a single good discussion. Changing someone’s beliefs or understanding of the world requires you to understand where the origin of those beliefs lies, and it may be no where near as obvious as we’d like to think. Additionally, long-term change is usually not seated in facts but in emotion, and that’s a whole different ball game that we may not be equipped to play.

Interestingly, for me, this ‘not causing harm’ component also extends to harm to self and links nicely back to not being able to change individuals. I’ve had people I’ve thought of as friends, who were so locked into self-destructive patterns of behaviour, based on their view that the grass was always greener elsewhere, that they couldn’t stay in any one situation long enough to start to ‘fix’ those patterns. I discovered the hard way that no matter the presented evidence you couldn’t get them to see the world in a different way. Sometimes, an external lens is just what someone needs to see themselves enough to spark change. Sometimes, that view is just so alien that discover you are not even speaking the same language.

You can’t always ‘fix’ yourself

Talking about changing people, we are not ourselves above having the same light cast upon us, and in theory, this is the one area where our scope should include control and not just variable levels of influence. The problem with discussion about ‘fixing’ ourselves is the mistaken assumption that some form of perfection can or will be able to exist. I have to tell you, as a recovering perfectionist, there is no such thing, and this is one of the biggest lies we tell ourselves. Worse than that, by aiming for such a lie, we set ourselves up to fail, over and over again.

None of us are, or can be perfect, we are constant works in progress. Perfection indicates some form of static existence,  whereas that cannot be the reality. Life is change, and we need to change and adapt with it. We learn and grow, and with that comes failure and the ability to do better next time. So my view on this has become: accept your flaws, and own your areas for improvement. After all, we are humans, not machines. The most powerful thought that I’m striving to embed is that I need to acknowledge there is sometimes beauty in both the flawed and the broken. If it is necessary for me to ‘fix’ parts of myself, as part of striving for improvement and healing, it is because I am better for it rather than because of punishing myself with the myth of perfection.

The one thing I hope we all take away from this blog is to not confuse the reality that change is outside of our area of influence with powerlessness. We always have the power to change. To change ourselves, to change our scope of influence, and eventually, if it matters enough, to work towards collective bigger change. Until then, treat yourself with the compassion that you would offer others and learn to not set yourself up for failure and distress by understanding where your current boundaries and influence lie. Stop trying to ‘fix’ what cannot be fixed, and try learning to love the flawed and different when it is right to do so.

All opinions in this blog are my own