we need to talk about the fly // pt 2

Reputation is what people say about you when you are not in the room

Building on pt. 1 (which is here), I am interested in the stories that are told about me, from the perspective of helping me understand how I show up and my impact. Occasionally I hear things second hand, such as “I don’t like Steve – he speaks out of turn”, or in one instance that I “like throwing hand grenades”. I do not, and I acknowledge that may have been someone’s experience; that saddens me, because I do not like the idea that I have a violent impact on others.

I recognize the tension here: some of my most meaningful learning experiences have come from ruptures and others challenging me…hard. Have any of those been grenade like explosions? Yes, and one that, whilst emotionally draining and cut me to my core, I am grateful for, as it revealed an elemental truth.

What is most useful is when people say things to me directly, and I can sense make with them to understand my impact in more detail.

• One commented at the end of an action learning set that it "had been challenging (in a good way)". "Did you need more challenge?", I asked. "God no! That was plenty," was the shocked response. The interesting thing was that I had not set out to 'challenge'; I was 'doing what I do', asking questions and making observations with an intent to support the client to deepen their inquiry: I wanted to help them find their edge and stretch. This highlighted a blind spot, in terms of my awareness of how I am experienced.

• The VC of a university, at the end of two days with his Exec team, remarked "you have a knack for not letting people off the hook without leaving them feeling they are on the hook". That talked to something that, at the time, I had not quite articulated.

• A Deputy Director in the NHS explained why she called me a "provocative git": "I thought the provocative bit was spot on but worried the word 'git' may have been a step too far. It was honestly meant as a compliment. Once I had settled in and my trust in you and the group had been established, I found it incredibly refreshing! We spend far too much time have superficial interactions - sometimes having that provocation is exactly what we need to make us really think."

• A client I first worked with two years ago recently reconnected with a view to working with her again. When she first met me, she found me "fucking irritating". Now? She thinks I "walk on water". Two poles on a continuum. My sense from inquiring with her was that the irritation was down to me creating the conditions where she was faced with looking in the mirror, something she initially found uncomfortable and did not want to do, but then realized was valuable. As to the walking on water, I am yet to enter my messianic phase and I can sift that for what lies beneath rather than go with the idealisation.

• Another client shared she experienced me as “arrogant” on a pitch for some business with her organisation (which we won incidentally). My comfort in saying we were fine not working with them if they were not up for ‘the work’ and preferred a more off the shelf approach…well, in hindsight, I can see how that might have come across as arrogant. The intent in me was a genuine desire to flag that we did not want to do was collude in performative learning.

The risk is that I may be missing out on hearing from those who have felt unable to tell me because they feel I am wielding explosive devices. Am I only hearing from those comfortable enough to engage with me, in other words?..

My friend and former colleague, David Nicholson, said to me on seeing a draft of this piece that I may have “been reassured by the more messianic stuff. What are you ignoring here?” I am not immune to wanting to read the nice stuff and sift out the hard messages. Better that than the reverse, which is something I used to do. This is all pretty normal, but in my line of work it is important to chew harder on how others tell you they experience you, to sift for what is and is not yours, for what is useful data, what needs to be acted on, what is projection, and what is not.

I don’t deny my reputation, and I think it is important to unpack what is at the heart of this, namely the ‘useful discomfort’. I notice that when I explain what I mean by it most clients understand, and many seem to connect with what it requires of them. It is the tipping point in our conversation.

My frame is essentially that, given that most things we learn in life that are of any consequence and developmental, are preceded by a wrestle and, yes, are not always comfortable. Speaking personally and reflecting on a meeting I had as part of the accreditation process for my supervision practice recently, the two people running the meeting were incredibly skilled at creating the conditions for my own useful discomfort and stretch. Did I enjoy it? In the moment no, and I knew that there was important stuff going on: there was deep learning for me lurking, and this piece is an extension of that process. They challenged me to better articulate not merely the impact I have, rather how I do that and my underlying assumptions. I realized I am comfortable talking about my work up until I am asked by someone assessing me to explain and evidence my impact. Why? Because then I must face into not just what may have been beneficial for clients, I also have to consider when what I do and how I do it may not be. I might have to even consider when I have been and can be wrong. One of my guiding principles is that ‘I am always open to the possibility that I am probably wrong’. It gives me the certainty that some have commented on, but it comes from a comfort with knowing I can be flat out wrong, and I want others to tell me if I am and why.

Where does this part of me come from?

It would be easy to stop here, and I am hesitating to write more, because it takes us into a deeper facet of who I am and my self-narrative. Five years ago, at the start of COVID, I spent a couple of hours with Krish Surroy working at a deep level on who I am and what I stand for. What emerged was a connection to the archetype of the Heyoka, a sacred clown or ‘wise fool’ in the culture of the Sioux of the Great Plains of North America. Later in 2022, as I was wrestling with some of the projections of others I was encountering, Krish quipped “this is who you are: it is your cross to bear.” I still wrestle with this, and Wambli Sina Win’s words in an article in the Native Times I read recently help me make sense of this a little more now:

“The words of the Heyoka are like a lightning bolt which can pierce the heart, for the Heyoka’s words can have a “sharp edge.” However, if one looks beyond the initial sting, one may realize that the words which make a person the angriest, usually have truth to them. Sometimes, “the truth hurts.”  But one never really knows the true intention of the Heyoka if we listen to the literal meaning of the words…  A Heyoka has a higher calling and must be strong enough to go against human instinct in order to hold out hope for the people to keep them going during times of difficulty. One of the greatest misconceptions is that one “chooses” to be a Heyoka.” 

A feel a little embarrassed, almost naked, revealing this part of my inquiry. It touches however on something close to my core that I am in an ongoing and unfolding inquiry with. I hesitated to include it here, as it talks to both a facet of my identity, as a man and human being - and as a practitioner -, that I am still learning about. It also appears to me, as this process has helped me see more clearly, integral to my practice.

How is it that I identify with the archetype above, what is projection ‘from me onto it’, and what is mine? There is a longer story here, about family, childhood and fatherhood. The slice that is relevant is that my childhood was characterised by the shadows – light and dark – my father cast. He had his own demons, plus a deep appreciation and understanding of the absurdity of much that is reified socially and politically in society, particularly authority figures. At his best, he was playfully mischievous in pricking the pomposity of those whose self-image and standing was underpinned by ego ideals that led them to believe they were better than, more powerful than, superior to etc others. He gravitated towards society’s outsiders, mavericks, oddballs, creatives and fools, not least because these were all part of him. Is it any wonder, then, that some of this rubbed off on me?

The impact he had on me was paradoxical: on the one hand I became deeply fearful of conflict, in particular male anger. On the other a combination of the work I have done to make sense of all this, plus the skills I learned at the family dinner table to read what is going on below the surface level of conversation, have made me what I am today. How we show up is influenced by our life experiences, valencies and entanglements – so much, so obvious. Over time I worked on understanding how my defences against anxiety meant I showed up, sometimes, as distant or intellectually obtuse; I had one colleague who was very good at telling me ‘I don’t know what you are talking about, it doesn’t make sense’. The fact that he was someone who evoked anxiety in me should probably not be a surprise, and explains in part why he experienced me like that...

I became better at spotting how I would go to my grandiose and intellectual safe place; I played with moving towards conflict rather than away from it, and on occasions admitting to myself how angry I was: that stretched me. I practiced naming that anger rather than catharting unconsciously in a way that resulted in collateral damage, something my father sadly was less skilled at doing, until his later years.

What does this mean for my practice? I believe I have got better at doing what I am both drawn to and told I am valued for. I don’t shy away from offering a question or observation if I have an agreement in place that gives me permission to do so, and I do so in a way that may mean a client becomes (more) aware of what they are wrestling with and may need to chew on. If I think I need to go further than has been agreed, I will re-contract.

So what is the point of all this?

My friend and the man I do all my brand and identity work with, Simon Bottrell, once told me that unless you were prepared to distil your brand down to a message you are willing to wear on a T-shirt, it wasn’t true. I am writing this as part of another cycle of inquiry that fell out of my supervision accreditation and a felt need to hone my message. I want to make sure that my marketing, of myself and my business – Edge+Stretch – are congruent, with me and with each-other.  

There is an important point about change to be made here. Sometimes, the paradoxical nature of change means that doing nothing can create the conditions for emergent change. Equally, like with exercise and physical fitness, where the human body grows and becomes fitter through stretching and stressing tissues, so too other forms of learning. This is why I believe in ‘useful discomfort in service of learning’, in helping people identify their edge and stretch.

We cannot take our clients to places we are not prepared to go ourselves in this type of work, so this is me sharing how I have got to where I am, offering you a window into my own messy reality and useful discomfort. It may make me (yet more) Marmite, and I am comfortable with that.

Marmite, said purveyors of strong-tasting yeast extract, do not worry about those that dislike the flavour, nor do they force people to eat it. I too work with clients who want the kind of stretching learning and developmental experiences I offer, not those who do not. If you want polished, vanilla, suited and polite, there are plenty out there who offer that. I do what I do because it is who I am, what I am drawn to, and I am good at it. Perfect? No. Impactful? Yes.

[My thanks to several people in addition to those mentioned in these two posts, namely Minola Jac, Michael Moriarty, Robert Digings and Paula Hearsum. I needed sounding boards for this one...]