I’ve been an end of the alphabet person all my life, starting as a W then going backwards to Y.  Could this explain my restless nature, moving houses, changing careers, searching constantly for meaning and answers???  Are my happy with their lot friends more likely to be start of the alphabet people? 

Interesting idea isn’t it?  They’ve also looked at the impact of initials on your life span.  H.U.G. for example gives you several more years than B.U.M… Also makes me wonder about the meaning of the words – did the Quirkology professor get a head start by getting the name "Wiseman"?

Nonsense or not it’s fun to dip into.  They’ve more tests running just now that you can take on the Quirkology site – from a lie detector to seeing how well  you can anticipate the results of a penalty shoot out…

Meantime any thoughts on how your name – or position in the alphabet – has affected your outlook on life?

“I think I’m beginning to understand something about art.”

A true lifelong learner – an open mind right up to his last breath.

I have to confess that when I was in the job that should remain nameless (the civil service) the words “lifelong learning” used to wash over me, one of those meaningless expressions that get bandied about by politicians and educational theorists, bearing little relationship to life (or at least to my life at that time).

Things changed when I took up coaching. For me, one of the defining features of coaching is that it opens your mind to learning again: about yourself, about life, about your values and what’s important to you, about new possibilities, about avenues previously unexplored, opening up new doors that you’d previously marked off as ‘closed’ (too old, too late to change, not clever enough). And once you start down that path of your learning – driven by you, your motivation, your life – it’s totally addictive. You’ll never want to stop.

My most recent foray into new learning has been exploring the power of Baroque music to help us concentrate and learn. I started finding out about this as part of the background work for the dyslexia coaching course. I’d also dipped into some of the material about Baroque music on Robyn McMaster’s site. But the best way to learn of course is to do, so I experimented with using Baroque music to help me master something new.

The dyslexia coaching includes a number of physical exercises to help with balance, co-ordination and develop different parts of the brain. Now as someone who is pretty well challenged when it comes to physical co-ordination this was less than totally easy for me. But my motivation was high (learn to do this and you can help pass it on to kids with dyslexia). So I experimented doing the exercises to Baroque music and it really worked – better concentration, slower pace, greater sense of rhythm, less focus on what I ‘couldn’t’ do as I allowed the music to take me through the exercises. Brilliant! I’m a convert. The music isn’t naturally my cup of tea, but it definitely grows on you, and if it works, it’s worth it.

I’m still learning about this as I said but as I understand it the most important thing is to get Baroque music with a slow or ‘largo’ beat. I found a list of suggested pieces here.

For me it’s a way of slowing down into a rhythm which is natural, powerful, restful, which allows me to do things I didn’t ‘think’ I could do. It’s a way of tapping into a different state. Of making new connections – inside and outside of yourself. Seeing new applications. Opening up new possibilities. Accessing your childlike sense of curiosity, wonder and fun.

Growing and changing and learning: the natural rhythm of life.

Perhaps it was something in the words that struck me, that feeling of recognition when you sense that a particular phrase has been written just with you in mind…

I could see from reading on that the metaphor of golf for life worked on lots of levels: you always learn something new; it can be difficult, challenging, fun and rewarding.  But the bit I really loved was that advice to ease up on your golf swing:

When I relax, limit the height of my back swing, and allow the club head to fall naturally in a gentle and controlled arc toward the ball, I get better distance and accuracy than I can imagine or understand.

What a lovely metaphor – and great advice whether you’re wanting to improve your golf swing or learn how to glide more effortlessly through life…

It was from the Miscellaneous Adventures of an Aussie Mum.  And there in the midst of her miscellaneous adventures she throws us a big question: Who is narrating your life?

It’s the question we ask when we realise we’ve lost the plot.  The feeling so many of us get when the story comes to a dead end.  What happens to people when they

…wake up when they’re forty and go, “Wow, how did I end up here?” and realise they’ve had an unfulfilled previous twenty or so years because they’ve never actively narrated their destiny. It was easier to “go with the flow”, when really that flow was a rip taking them out to sea.

And when you stop, and look around you, and see how far you’ve come or how far you’ve drifted, maybe… what’s your answer to the question:

Who’s narrating your life? Who’s telling your story?

1.We can make use of existing stories to gain insight into a situation.  This gives people a fresh perspective, opening up new possibilities for change.

2. As coaches we spend a lot of time listening to the stories that people are telling – telling other people, and telling themselves – and start to pick out what’s important to them in those narratives: their values and beliefs, what’s precious to them, what might be holding them back.

3. Stories are a metaphor for life.  You’ll hear people using this metaphor all the time: "he’s really lost the plot", "I can’t wait to move into the next chapter" and so on.  And coaching is all about breathing new life into that story. The story that you are inhabiting now, and the story you want to be living – and telling – in the future.

Maya Angelou once said:

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you"

For me that isn’t just about telling the story of what’s happened to you or what you’ve been doing up to now.  It’s about having the confidence to tell the story of who you are and who you want to be.  The person, the life, the story that is deep inside you: waiting to be told.

This really got me thinking about our often challenging relationship with time. Time plays a key role in our lives. It gives meaning to our stories: without it life would just be a disconnected series of events. Yet all too often time becomes the enemy: we don’t have enough of it, we are driven by deadlines, squeezing the impossible into every moment, constantly chasing after time, or beating ourselves up about spending it the wrong way. Victorian instructions ‘not to squander time’ would only add to the guilt and frustration we already carry around with us – wouldn’t they?

And yet there was something really intriguing about the way the question was put: dost thou love life? And if the answer was “yes!” what would that mean for the way we chose to spend our time?

I was mulling this over as I walked through the gardens at Mount Edgcumbe. It was a balmy spring day and the magnolias were just starting to blossom. Old ladies were having a blether in the tea-room by the orange garden. The path led down to the sea and it was warm enough to sit by the shore. Just sit for a while and bask in the warm spring sunshine. Listen to the waves. Watch a father teaching his young daughter to skim stones. Patient, encouraging, laughing. Engrossed in his own skimming. Hearing the music of the gulls calling on the wind. Watching the slow ferry move back and forth across the water.

And I suddenly realised: all of this is about time. The decisions we made about how we were going to spend this hour, this morning, this day, this short blessing of early March sunshine.

So perhaps that is what the clock was telling me. Not an instruction to be busy or productive. But a simple reminder that we can chose how to spend time. And if you love life – and if you know what you love about it – how are you choosing to spend your time?

She’s talking about the way we express values through the development of a personal brand:

You may not be driven by money – like me maybe it is your personal values and the creation of value in the world. The biggest reason for me to know and live by a personal brand, is that I want to ensure that I live my life to my values, I want to create my legacy as I go…so there are no regrets when I close my eyes for the final time….

The idea of creating your legacy as you go along rather than waiting to the end is a very powerful one. And it’s not something that is limited to a brand. It’s the choices we make in life. The roads taken. Things we stand up for. Words spoken. Lives touched. Not just the big things but the small stuff too. An outstretched hand of friendship. Random acts of kindness.

And it is what what I mean by stories: the ones we live, the ones we tell, the ones we leave behind.

All of which reminds me of a fabulous quote by George Bernard Shaw:

“Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch that I have got hold of for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.”