Tag Archive for: change

The Stationery Aisle Experiment

I read a lot. Its been a habit of my lifetime.
If anything, though, I probably read too fast.
Occasionally I use a well-worn red highlighter pencil to mark memorable passages. I had picked it up somewhere and I’ve been using it for ages.
But with all the thoughts recently at work about little experiments and micro habits, I decided to make a small behavioural change in early March.
It started, slightly randomly, in Tesco.
I was in the stationery aisle and decided, for no big reason, to buy a new set of highlighting pencils. And then a pencil case, because once you start, you may as well commit properly.
The idea was simple. Slow down. Pay attention. Make reading a bit more deliberate.
Now when I’m reading, I’m looking for something. Not in a forced, academic way. Just 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆. When a sentence stands out, I stop. That’s the key change. I actually stop.
I pick a colour, underline it, maybe read it again.
That pause is doing more work than I expected.
It breaks the habit of rushing through.
It makes me sit with the idea for a second instead of immediately moving on. It turns reading from something passive into something a bit more active, without making it feel like hard work.
I’ve noticed too, somehow it’s strangely more satisfying.
There’s something about having a pencil in hand, about marking a page, that makes the whole thing feel more intentional.
And when I flick back through, seeing those bits of colour scattered across the pages, it feels like a record of what actually landed. Not what I read, but what stayed.
It’s early, but I think it’s working.
I’m not reading less. I’m just reading with a bit more awareness. A bit more care.
All from the idea of experimentation with behavioural change and a small decision in a Tesco aisle.
It turns out slowing down isn’t about reading less, it’s about 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆.
Where else could a small pause make a big difference for you?

Slenteren: The Case for Moseying

Yesterday, Monic and I found ourselves doing what many couples do at IKEA from time to time….
Walking. Wandering. Looping backwards and forwards. Sitting on chairs we don’t really need.
But somewhere between the kitchens, the cushions and the exit, Monic used a Dutch word I hadn’t heard before:
𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧.
Not rushing.
Not heading anywhere in particular.
Just… moving slowly, together (and losing each other occasionally too!)
We paused.
“What’s the English word for that?” she asked.
We played with a few.
Ambling.
Strolling.
Sauntering.
Meandering.
Moseying.
Each one close… but not quite complete.
And as we continued our two-hour “journey” around IKEA, it struck me – we weren’t just looking at furniture…
We were definitely 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈! 👫
Unhurried.
Unpressured.
Unstructured… in the best possible way.
Reflecting this morning I thought about a wee life lesson.
In a world that rewards speed, output, and efficiency, there is something quietly powerful about moseying.
Because when we slow down:
• We notice more
• We think more clearly
• We connect more deeply
• We feel more
Life has taught me that not everything valuable comes from moving fast.
I’ve found that oftentimes the best conversations and the clearest thoughts, come when we simply… slenteren through them.
Where in your life could you afford to mosey a little more today?

Formulas

Recently, I’ve noticed a bit of a trend at work… formulas.
Not the kind that take me back to school (thankfully), but the kind that try to capture a value, a virtue, or a principle in a neat, almost mathematical way.
Simple and memorable is the key.
So naturally, my colleague Annmarie and I thought… let’s give it a go.
In a recent virtual session on accountability, we introduced the idea right at the start and invited people to notice any thoughts, ideas or impressions that came to them during the session.
We then got on with things as per normal, breakouts, discussions, shared experiences. All of the usual good stuff.
As we came towards the end, we returned to the idea and gave everyone a few minutes to create their own “accountability formula.”
And then… we triggered a chat storm.
(If you’ve never seen one, the idea is everyone holds their response… and then everyone hits enter at once. Instant energy and instant insight.)
The chat lit up with some brilliant thinking.
But one response stopped me.
One participant captured his thinking using just a handful of emojis.
No words.
No explanation.
And yet… it said everything.
Accountability = 📖 + 🥺 +🤯 + 😎
I caught up with Robert Miller yesterday and asked him to walk me through it again.
It was thoughtful, simple, and spot on.
I was going to explain it here…
But actually, I think it’s far more fun (and perhaps more revealing) to leave it with you.
Sometimes the most powerful ideas are the ones that are simple enough to be shared, understood…and open enough to mean different things to different people.
And when we create space for everyone to contribute at once, we often hear from voices that might otherwise stay quiet.
𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮: What do you think Robert meant by his formula?

Unhurried

Recently, I received a message from a few of our returned missionaries – thank you everyone!
It was an invitation to watch a BYU Devotional by Shayla Bott.
The core message of her talk was “𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠”.
It reminded me of an experience with Monic, whilst we were in Copenhagen at a Mission Leaders Seminar in October 2021.
During the seminar there was a moment in which the Area President – Massimo De Feo – felt to play a video of Sissel singing “Slow Down” with The Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra at Temple Square during the 2019 Pioneer Day concert.
There came into the room, the sweetest, most beautiful spirit that not only filled the entire room, but it also penetrated deeply into all of our hearts.
It changed me.
It changed our hearts.
And it changed our mission.
From that moment forward, we regularly shared that video and message to “slow down” with all of our missionaries in order for each of us to better understand the invitation to “Be still and know that I am God” – Psalms 46:10.
We shared it at every opportunity we could.
It became my personal mantra.

Accents

…Lots of missionaries tried extremely hard to copy my Scottish accent and repeat “slow down” and, truth be told, some of those attempts were quite something!
I always appreciated them, not because they got it right… but because they felt it.
There was something kind, almost sacred, in their willingness to try and it wasn’t really about the accent.
It was about the invitation.
An invitation to pause, to breathe, to notice, to feel and to listen a little more carefully to the Spirit, to others, and perhaps even to ourselves.
I know the more present we are in the now, the more joy we can tap into.
Listening to the BYU Devotional this week has been transformative.
I purchased a book by John Mark Comer “The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry” and have enjoyed my studies this week – more than ever.
My invitation – listen to the devotional, maybe even buy the book.
For me, it’s been about creating just enough space for heaven to get a word in.
In a world that so often rushes, pushes, and hurries… the Lord simply invites us to “Be still.”
What might the Lord be waiting to say to you… if you slowed down just a little?

Delays, Diversions and Leadership

As I set off for work yesterday, my travel was beset with delays and diversions.
Leaving home a little later than usual, I immediately found myself in a long line of traffic as I headed out of town past the High School.
Further along, there was a road closure north of Wellwood, which meant I had to turn around and come back into town, where I was met with another line of traffic.
I then decided I’d be best to head along towards the motorway past the hospital, only to be met by yet another long line of cars as they queued at some temporary traffic lights.
My normal time to the motorway is around 8 minutes; yesterday’s was 28 minutes.
And then when I arrived in Perth, I faced another unexpected 15-minute delay as I encountered more traffic lights and roadworks again.
It was a little frustrating, to say the least.
Sometimes diversions and delays can be so annoying, and yet there is often very little we can do about them, other than adjust, stay patient, and keep moving forward.

Lessons Learned

It struck me later that the journey felt a lot like leadership.
Rarely is the road straight or predictable. Plans change. Obstacles appear without warning. Routes that normally work suddenly don’t.
In those moments, leadership is less about having the perfect plan and more about how we respond.
Good leaders stay calm when the route changes. They reassess, choose the next best option, and keep people moving in the right direction. They don’t waste energy wishing the road were different; they focus on navigating the one in front of them.
Because in leadership, just like on the road, progress rarely comes from a perfectly clear path. More often, it comes from patience, perspective, and the willingness to keep going even when the journey takes longer than expected.
What might unexpected detours be teaching you about patience and perspective?

Be Prepared

Our Monday morning team call yesterday was focused on something very practical: contingency planning.
Some of my colleagues had clearly put a lot of thought into how we prepare for disruption around our Learning Programme, Lead the Way, in Perth. With participants travelling from far and wide, winter brings the real risk of snow, heavy rain, and the knock-on effects that tend to follow travel delays.
The conversation wasn’t about predicting every possible problem, although we did talk through quite a few. It was about agreeing a set of guiding principles so that, whatever happens, we’d be ready to respond accordingly.
After the call, I found myself thinking about an idea that’s been with me far longer than any programme plan.
When I was much younger, I was a Cub Scout. Our motto was simple: 𝑩𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅.
I have thought about that motto often throughout my life.
Back then, that meant remembering my kit, listening to instructions, and having some idea of what to do if plans changed. At the time, it felt small and practical.
Looking back now, it feels like an early lesson in something far more useful: how to face the unexpected with confidence rather than fear, and how to take responsibility not only for myself, but for others too, when things don’t go to plan.
That same principle sits at the heart of learning, leadership, and development.
Good learning isn’t just about information. It helps us think ahead, make sound judgements, and act when the situation isn’t clear.
Leadership development builds the confidence to move forward without perfect answers and the awareness to support others through change.
Together, they don’t remove all disruption, but they help us respond with agility when it matters.
It’s been my experience too, that our careers and lives are rarely linear.
Plans shift, priorities change and disruption can show up in many forms. What matters isn’t whether it happens, but how we respond when it does.
That’s why yesterday’s conversation mattered.
By agreeing shared principles and preparing together, we weren’t just protecting a programme. We were reinforcing a mindset that accepts uncertainty and treats preparation as a shared responsibility.
In that sense, for me, the Cub Scout motto still holds up remarkably well, even after all these years.
Learning, leadership, and development help us be prepared not for one specific scenario, but for whatever comes next.
So perhaps the real question is this: when your plans change, are you ready to adapt?

Sitting alongside

In a recent learning programme, a participant asked a question that had left her momentarily confused.
Rather than answer from the front of the room, I paused, pulled up a chair, and sat alongside her.
It was a small movement, but it changed everything.
Her face was quite the picture for a second, a clear reminder that pulling up a chair isn’t standard facilitator behaviour!
What followed wasn’t an explanation, but a coaching conversation in real time.
I was curious, empathetic and unhurried.
Listening not to reply, but to understand.
To have empathy is to be able to feel another person’s feelings.
So often, conversations can become a dialogue of the deaf, where people speak past one another, each rehearsing their response in order to reply, rather than receiving the other and seeking to understand.
Empathy interrupts that pattern.
It slows us down.
It lowers our status.
It creates safety.
I know that leadership doesn’t always mean having the answer.
Sometimes it means changing the dynamics of the moment, by stepping out of a role, sitting alongside, and being genuinely curious about where someone is thinking from.
In turn, helping others find their own answers.
When people feel understood, thinking expands.
And when thinking expands, learning follows.
That, quietly, is leading the way.
Who might benefit today from you simply sitting alongside them?

Learning by Doing

Last week, whilst down in London, I spent some time with a couple of colleagues puzzling over a new activity for our learning programme.
The bench test in our team meeting suggested it needed a little tweaking. A few “what ifs”, some honest debate, a couple of scribbles on paper… and a revised version emerged.
Yesterday, it went live for real.
One of the things I enjoy most about my work as a facilitator is designing experiential activities that allow people to discover leadership and behavioural principles for themselves, rather than simply being told about them.
Yesterday was no exception.
As the activity was introduced in a very simple manner, I noticed those familiar puzzled expressions around the room, including the slight head tilt, the raised eyebrow, the quiet “I’m not quite sure where this is going…” look.
Off they all went…
Within minutes, those faces softened, conversations sparked, and each group leaned in, fully absorbed in the task at hand.
Half an hour later, as the groups returned to the main room to share their thinking, there was a gentle nervous anticipation in the air.
Presentations followed. Then table discussions. Then a facilitator debrief.

And so…?

And just like that, many of the leadership behaviours we’d hoped would surface began to reveal themselves – sometimes explicitly, sometimes subtly, often with a few smiles along the way.
Sitting there, as I observed it all unfold, I was reminded of something simple but important: you can learn a great deal by watching…
But the much deeper learning for us as facilitators doesn’t live in the design alone; it lives in the very moment, in how we read the room, respond to what’s emerging, and trusting ourselves to act accordingly.
And that’s the bit I never tire of watching happen.
Off to start day 2 this morning and learn a little more! 😊
What recent experience has quietly reshaped how you lead the way?

Planted in Scotland

I am truly grateful for the opportunity over these last few months to have worked with some wonderful students.
Twelve months ago, whilst in the USA, I met with Dr. Tony Brown at BYU, in Provo, Utah.
From our conversation that day came the opportunity to help coordinate student internship placements here in Scotland and Ireland.
It was one of those moments where we both didn’t quite know at the time what would grow from it.
Amilya, Emily, and Hazel are the latest of that group. They’ve been in Dunfermline and Montrose for the last three or four months, and today is their final Sunday at church in Scotland before heading home in the next few days.
Amilya was one of our missionaries in Belgium/Netherlands, so that has been extra fun having her stay at our home too.
It’s been a real adventure for each of them and challenging at times too.
New country, new accents, new routines, new opportunities. 😊
They’ve worked hard, represented BYU amazingly, and brought warmth and energy everywhere they’ve gone.
A few weeks ago, Tony also made it across to Dunfermline to visit Hazel at her placement at the Andrew Carnegie Birthplace Museum. It was great fun showing him around the Glen that day and seeing things through fresh eyes again.

Lessons Learned

There’s a gospel lesson in all of this that keeps coming to mind.
The Saviour often talked about journeys, planting seeds, and using the talents we’re given. Sometimes the seeds are planted far from home, in unfamiliar soil, but with faith and effort they still grow.
I think that’s what’s happened here.
“But that on the good ground are they, which in an honest and good heart, having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with patience.” Luke 8:15
The three of them came willing to serve, to learn, and to stretch themselves, and something good has grown for everyone involved.
We’re all better for having had them here, even if only for a season.
Safe travels home, Amilya, Emily, and Hazel.
Scotland will miss you, and we’re grateful for all the paths that crossed, and for the seeds that will keep growing long after you’ve gone.
Look out for many others students arriving in 2026 and if you’d like to host one or two, please drop me a note.
How often do we realise the value of a season only as it ends?

Shared Purpose, Individual Paths

This week I’ve been delivering to a senior group on the new Lead the Way programme with Aviva in Perth.
As the pace of delivery picks up for me, I’m starting to see the programme in a slightly different way, from the inside out.
More people are coming through the learning centre, more conversations are happening, and each session adds a deeper layer to my understanding of the learning outcomes.
What hit me most this week, is how different every group feels, even when the content is identical.
My co-facilitators and I often use the same stories, the same themes, and similar ways of framing ideas.
Yet the reactions and insights keep shifting. A point that sparks debate in one room lands quietly in another. And a topic that feels simple one day becomes the heart of a long discussion the next.
No two programmes ever seem to unfold in the same way.
Yesterday, I also noticed a few balloons from last week’s launch are still in the learning centre. They share the same space and purpose, but each one has its own colour and shape. A simple reminder that even with a shared programme, every person brings something different to the room.
It is a clear reminder that every person attending is unique.
Each delegate brings their own mix of experience, questions, confidence, and expectations. It also means that our approach as facilitators can never be that one size fits all.
The content doesn’t shift, but everyone brings it to life in their own way.
We have to notice what each participant needs, respond to the moment, and make space for each participant to think for themselves.
For me, leadership and coaching follow similar patterns.
Leadership begins with meeting people where they are.
Coaching grows from listening, adapting, and supporting the next step that fits them.
With every session, the more I see what matters most.
Content helps, but it is not the heart of the experience. The heart is seeing each person one by one, as they really are. That is where learning starts. That is where leadership grows.
How would your leadership change if you slowed down long enough to understand what each person needs?