Tag Archive for: Learning

Beneath the Lid

Returning from holiday recently, I noticed a new addition to the Learning Centre in Perth.

A 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒛𝒆𝒓. 🥶

Not just any freezer, but a large freezer filled with lots of wee tubs of Mackie’s ice cream. 🍦

Chocolate, honeycomb, vanilla and mint.

A small Scottish treasure chest sitting quietly in the corner.

I am told it will be locked most of the time – thank goodness!

Of course, when the freezer was open, it created an unexpected moment of joy for a couple of my fellow facilitators. There was laughter, searching, stretching, choosing and, in one case, Steve almost disappearing headfirst into the freezer in pursuit of the perfect tub.

Thankfully, no facilitators were harmed in the making of this leadership lesson.

It was all very light-hearted, but it got me thinking.

Sometimes leadership is a little like that.

It is easy to stand at the edge and look through the glass. We can observe from a safe distance, make assumptions about what is inside, point helpfully, offer advice, or wait for someone else to do the digging.

But sometimes, if we really want to understand what is going on, we have to lean in a little further.

We have to open the lid and look beneath the surface.

In teams, the most useful insights are not always sitting neatly on top.

Lead the Way

At Aviva, throughout the Lead the Way programme, we often explore the things that sit a little deeper: hidden talent, unspoken frustrations, creative ideas, people needing encouragement, or colleagues who have more to offer than we have yet noticed.

In my experience, good leaders do not just glance across the surface. They get curious. They ask better questions. They listen properly. They are willing to look again.

And sometimes leadership means getting involved rather than simply giving instructions from the side.

I believe there is something powerful about leaders who are prepared to roll up their sleeves, join in, help search and occasionally look a little ridiculous in the process.

I know that trust is not built only in the formal moments. It is also built in the small, human ones too.

Around a freezer. Over a shared laugh. In the search for honeycomb. In the simple act of being present with people.

Perhaps the real leadership lesson was not in the ice cream at all. It was beneath the lid.

Although, to be fair, the honeycomb helped!

What might you discover if you took time to look beneath the surface?

More Than Words

Around the Learning Centre at Aviva in Perth, we have a number of different games available for delegates to use during breaks.

They are not just there to fill time. They are there to help people connect, build relationships of trust, and create the kind of informal networks that often make learning much more meaningful.

Last week, something happened that brought a real smile to my face.

For the first time that I’d witnessed, rather than disappearing into emails or scrolling through messages on their phones, a few delegates from our  Lead the Way cohort gathered around a Scrabble board.

It wasn’t long before others joined in.

There was laughter, gentle competition, a little negotiation over whether certain words really counted, and plenty of encouragement when someone found a particularly good one.

It was a simple activity, but it reminded me of something important about leadership.

Strong teams are not only built in the formal sessions, meetings and workshops.

They are also built in the spaces in between.

Over a cup of tea, a can of Irn-Bru or a Tunnock’s Tea Cake.
Around a table.
Through a shared laugh.
One word at a time.

And perhaps there was another lesson in the game itself.

Everyone had different letters to work with. Some looked more useful than others. Yet the real value came when people connected what they had with what was already on the board.

Leadership is often like that.

We do not all bring the same strengths, experiences or perspectives. But when we create the right environment, everyone can contribute something meaningful.

Sometimes the best conversations, connections and lessons don’t occur in the training room, they happen when it’s time to take a break.

What are you doing to create space for connection in the teams you lead?

 

Fresh Eyes

For most of the last twenty years of my career in learning and development, I have been fortunate to travel to many far-flung places around the world to facilitate workshops and programmes.
It has been a wonderful journey, full of different cultures, customs, conversations and perspectives.
Latterly, however, things have changed.
Now, working with Aviva, delegates travel from across the UK and Ireland, along with a few from other European nations, to attend the Learning Centre in Perth.
Instead of me travelling everywhere, everyone now travels to Scotland.
My journey is a much shorter one now – a few times a week up the road to Perth, where I feel genuinely honoured to facilitate modules on Aviva’s flagship leadership programme, Lead the Way.
Often, I ask delegates whether they have been to Perth before, or even to Scotland.
It still amazes me that the vast majority say this is their very first visit.
That fascinates me.
For most of my career, my travel has taken me in one direction – south. I have been in England hundreds, if not thousands, of times over the years. Yet many of those who come north are seeing Scotland for the very first time.
The comments are often simple but striking:
“There is so much space up here.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It feels different.”
And perhaps that is the lesson.
Leadership is often less about discovering something new, and more about learning to see the familiar with fresh eyes.
Perhaps we Scots take for granted the space, the landscape, the beauty and the calm that surrounds us.
We live with it every day, so it can become background rather than blessing.
Leadership can be like that too.
We can become so familiar with our teams, our work, our strengths, our culture and even our opportunities that we stop seeing them clearly.
Sometimes others help us see what we have stopped noticing.
Sometimes it takes a fresh pair of eyes to remind us of what is already there.
Great leaders learn to notice again.
They pause long enough to see the beauty in the ordinary, the potential in the familiar, and the value in what others may be experiencing for the very first time.
What might you be taking for granted that someone else would see as remarkable?

The View from the Top

It’s been 41 years since Marty and I served together as missionary companions in Cambridge, England, through April/May of 1985.
Yesterday, as part of our visit to Philadelphia, we stopped at one of the city’s most iconic landmarks, the Rocky statue outside the Museum of Art.
Like countless visitors before us, and just like Rocky some 50 years ago, I couldn’t resist running up the famous steps.
Standing at the top, looking out across the city skyline, I found myself reflecting on how different the view looks depending on where you stand in life.
One of the things I love about the Rocky story is that it was never really about boxing. It was about perseverance and refusing to quit. About becoming something more than you were before. In the movie, I remember Rocky raising his arms in triumph at the top of the stairs.
Yet, what we sometimes forget is that the view only came after the challenges and the climb.
As I stood there with Marty, my mind drifted back to those days in Cambridge. Two young missionaries with plenty of enthusiasm, very little experience, and absolutely no idea where life would eventually take us. Back then, almost everything lay ahead of us.
Careers, marriage, children, challenges, successes, disappointments, lessons – life!
Like many young people, we spent most of our time looking forward.
Now, four decades later, there is also value in looking back.
Later in the afternoon, we smiled and laughed as I shared some entries together from my missionary journal from all those years ago.
Looking back helps us see things we could never fully appreciate at the time.
The prayers that were answered, the disappointments that became blessings and our friendship that has flourished.
This morning, my thoughts are turning from looking back to looking forward once again.
In a few hours’ time, we begin a Church History Tour with around 100 young 16- to 19-year-olds. They may not even know much about Rocky, but perhaps that doesn’t matter.
Yet, they are at an exciting stage of life, standing at the bottom of their own staircase, with dreams to pursue, lessons to learn and experiences still to come.
They cannot yet see the view from the top.
What stories will they tell? What lessons will they learn? After all it is the climb that creates them.
Forty-one years ago, Marty and I stood in much the same place.
Looking back now, I am grateful we kept climbing.
Every generation has its own staircase to climb. What does yours look like today?

The Sugar Snap Incident

Recently, we arrived in Philadelphia for a church history tour, full of excitement and ready for ten days in the States.
Then came the question at security and customs: “Are you carrying any fruit or vegetables?”
Monic answered first and mentioned the sugar snaps. The immigration officer gave us a rather quizzical look, and before the conversation got any further, we were being directed to a second check. Once there, I added my two apples to the list.
Apparently, sugar snaps and two apples are enough to begin an international incident.
Our passports were taken. We were told not to use our mobile phones. We were asked to sit and wait while our other luggage was collected.

Waiting…

At this point, our imaginations went into overdrive.
Would they open every suitcase?
Would they go through our belongings item by item?
Would they confiscate half our luggage?
Would they let us into the country at all?
Would we be remembered forever as “𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒑 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆”?
To make matters worse, Monic had actually wanted an apple on the plane, but they were in the overhead locker and we never quite got to them. Her plan had been to eat one once we landed.
Now, sitting in the waiting area, she began quietly debating whether she should just eat it there and then.
This felt risky. We had already been stopped for sugar snaps. Eating the evidence in a customs waiting area felt like the sort of thing that might not move things in our favour.
So, we sat there, trying to look calm, innocent and deeply law-abiding, while quietly catastrophising on the inside.
Eventually, after about half an hour, our luggage arrived. We were asked a few more questions.
The apples were taken away, probably to wherever forbidden apples go. Then, after checking some kind of database, the sugar snaps were declared safe.
We immediately wished we’d just eaten the apples on the plane.
All our luggage was scanned again and, at last, we were free to enter the USA.
The relief was real.
We had made it.
𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧: sometimes small things can create unexpected delays, especially when we are crossing into unfamiliar territory.
As leaders, it is easy to catastrophise when things don’t go to plan.
But often the best response is simple: stay honest, stay calm, answer the questions in front of you, and don’t let a temporary hold-up convince you that the whole journey is over.
Also, when in doubt, eat the apples before landing.
What helps you stay calm when a small issue suddenly feels much bigger than it is?

Juggling Four

There’s something about a trip to the loft.
You normally go looking for one thing and end up rediscovering three others you had long forgotten about.
Yesterday, I climbed up to bring down some suitcases.
But, as Scotland enjoyed its warmest day of the year, the sun loungers also looked very appealing.
Tucked away beside them were some old juggling balls and a few spinning plates from years ago.
That immediately brought back memories of living in the Netherlands and helping some dear friends learn to juggle.
What fascinated me then still feels true now: three balls are manageable with a little practice.
Four, however, changes everything.
The leap from three to four is far greater than most people expect.
In fact, I have only ever met a handful of people who could consistently juggle four or more well.
And perhaps life works much the same way.
Most of us can normally keep a few important things moving reasonably well: work, family, health, friendships, responsibilities.
But eventually life can add another ball or two into the air including a health concern, a difficult season in life, financial pressures, anxiety, conflict or even exhaustion.
And suddenly what once felt manageable starts becoming noticeably harder.
Perhaps that is why rest is not laziness.
Sometimes it is wisdom.
Yesterday, I left the juggling balls and spinning plates in the loft.
And with Monic’s help we brought down the sun loungers together instead.
Sometimes we do not need greater productivity.
We simply need a little sunlight, stillness and space to breathe again.
As I sat quietly in the sunshine for a while, I found myself wondering whether part of getting older is slowly learning that we were never designed to keep adding more and more balls into the air.
What “fourth ball” might you be trying to keep in the air right now?

The Power of Playfulness

I think somewhere deep down, most of us would quite like to be a little more playful – and perhaps we know that playfulness is still within us… somewhere.
There’s something quietly powerful about playfulness.
It was my birthday this week (thank you for all the kind wishes) and celebrating it at work was a little different this year.
Partway through a learning session at Aviva in Perth on Tuesday, members of the events team suddenly appeared in the training room carrying a plateful of little cakes, and before I knew it, everyone was singing “Happy Birthday.”
Slightly embarrassing? …
Yes.
But also rather lovely.
At the beginning of every Lead the Way programme, we invite people to “check in” by sharing how they are feeling.
There’s some good psychology behind it. Naming our emotions can help us process our thoughts, lower barriers and connect more honestly with others.
Over time, our “feelings wheel” has affectionately become known as the “𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒚.”
That probably says something in itself.
Interestingly, when checking in myself, one of the words I often choose is playful.
Not because life is always easy.
And not because there aren’t pressures, worries or difficult conversations waiting outside the room.
But because humour, lightness and not taking ourselves too seriously can be deeply healthy things.
A little playfulness changes the atmosphere.
From my experience, it relaxes people and creates connection.
Sometimes a simple smile, a shared laugh or a moment of silliness can do more for a new cohort of participants than another perfectly crafted slide deck.
Research increasingly shows that humour and laughter can reduce stress, improve wellbeing and strengthen relationships.
But beyond the science, most of us simply know this from experience.
We remember the people who made us feel lighter.
And perhaps that matters more than we realise.
In a world that often feels heavy, rushed and serious, maybe being playful is not a distraction from good leadership and healthy relationships.
Maybe it’s part of them.
What happens to people when we give them permission to smile, laugh and relax a little?

Every Club Counts

Yesterday, while co-facilitating a Lead the Way session at Aviva in Perth, we were exploring leadership styles.

Towards the end of the session, I thought it was time to bring a little unexpected fun into the room. Earlier that morning, in my preparations for the session, I’d had a silly idea…

So… out came the golf clubs. ⛳

A driver, 3 wood, 4 iron, pitching wedge, sand wedge and of course… my putter.

A few slightly puzzled faces looked back at me!

I asked if there were any golfers in the room and one participant bravely volunteered to come forward.

What followed was part leadership lesson, part comedy golf challenge.

We talked about how no golfer would ever play an entire round with just one club.

The driver might help you launch down the fairway, but it’s hopeless in a bunker.

And a putter is perfect on the green, but not much use off the tee.

The wedge helps with delicate recovery shots.

Each club has a purpose for a specific situation and good golfers learn to read the course ahead of them.

In a sense Leadership styles are very similar.

Great leaders don’t rely on one dominant style for every circumstance.

Sometimes a team needs a visionary leader who paints a compelling picture of the future.

At other times they need coaching and encouragement.

Or they may need clarity, pace, collaboration, challenge, reassurance or direction.

The real skill is sensing what the situation requires… and then reaching for the right “club.”

Of course, no leadership activity involving golf clubs would be complete without a little chaos.

So naturally, we finished by attempting to putt golf balls into a mug from across the room using different clubs.

Let’s just say the success rate varied considerably depending on the club selected!

There was plenty laughter, a little competitiveness, and more than a few surprisingly passionate putting techniques on display.

But beneath the fun sat a simple reminder:

Leadership flexibility matters and there is always a choice, but as we watched John we all realised how he slowed down and really concentred too.

The key message landed – the best leaders are not those who master only one style.

They are the ones who develop the awareness, confidence and adaptability to use the right style at the right moment for the people in front of them.

Or, to put it another way…

Sometimes leadership requires a driver, and sometimes it simply requires a very careful putt into a pink mug!

As leaders, are we carrying a full bag of clubs… or just swinging the same one over and over again?

The Quiet Realisation

After graduating from university many years ago, I found myself doing what many of us do at that stage of life, scanning the horizon for job opportunities and wondering where I might fit in.
One of those opportunities came in the form of Ford Motor Company, with a potential role based in Dagenham.
It was a great big opportunity, the kind I couldn’t ignore.
I progressed through the early stages of assessments and regional interviews. Then came the invitation to the final selection process.
Three days in Dagenham, a hotel stay and just twelve of us left from the thousands who had started.
The first two days went very well.
Each day, we were given feedback on how we were tracking, and I found myself in a strong position, close to securing one of only a handful of places.
I could even start to picture it. The job. The future. The direction my life might take.
Then came the tough final day.

Knowing

I recall a series of complex global transactions, multiple currencies, decisions under pressure, all in a team session, and closely observed. I remember sitting there, working through it all, with a growing sense that this wasn’t quite clicking.
And somewhere, in those few moments, being honest with myself – I knew.
By the end of the exercise, I had a quiet clarity, this wasn’t going to be for me.
At the time, it felt like a near miss, one of those “almost” moments.
But looking back now, it feels more like a gentle redirection.
This moment turned out to be an important one in my life.
Had I stepped into that commercial role, my whole life would have unfolded in different ways. I understood then, that choosing one path, let’s go of countless others.
Life has taught me that not getting something isn’t always a loss, rather it’s simply a realignment. And what feels like failure may simply be life steering you away from something that doesn’t quite fit.
I have learned too that you don’t always need the final result to know the answer. Sometimes you just know, and that quiet clarity has saved me a few times from chasing the wrong thing.
Looking back now, I’m genuinely grateful for those three days.
Because sometimes the opportunities we don’t get are the ones that quietly shape everything that comes next and help us understand who we are becoming.
Is there a path you didn’t take… that you’re now grateful for?

The Art of Not Hurrying

I tried a little experiment recently.
In my determination to slow down and ruthlessly eliminate the feeling of hurry, I deliberately…. yes, deliberately, forced myself to stand in the longest line at Tesco to pay for my groceries.
I must admit it was tough!
I even let another person into the line to go ahead of me.
That was pretty tough too!
Admittedly, to begin with there were a few downsides, and I felt a little anxious as I observed other lines and self-checkouts moving faster.
But there were a lot more upsides!
I engaged in several lovely conversations and somehow that felt like a much better outcome for me.
In fact, I noticed things I would normally miss… a smile, a comment, a bit of shared humour.
It felt less like “wasting time” and more like choosing how to spend it.
It actually felt good, to start slowing.
Choosing to wait, made hurrying impossible for me.
I know I need to practice and train a little more and find a few other ways to slow myself even more.
Can I survive without hurrying?!
Hmmm….
Do you find yourself rushing when in fact there is no need to?
Maybe the slow lane isn’t the worst place to be after all.
Next time, I might even choose it again… on purpose.
What’s your version of the slow queue?
© Copyright 2024 Daryl Watson. All Rights Reserved. Registered in Scotland, Company Number SC473068