Tag Archive for: Learning

Climate Before Content

Charley, Hannah, Holly and Taylor are our events team in the Learning Centre at Aviva in Perth.
They’re in charge of all of the policies, procedures and processes to ensure that operationally everything goes smoothly every day.
But most of all, they work so hard to ensure that every participant who attends the Lead the Way Leadership programme have a very positive experience, from start to finish.
They are just all so super organised and I’m amazed at all that they do.
Travel and transport sorted.
Hotels confirmed.
Room layouts perfect.
Team groups set up.
Name badges aligned with military precision etc.
Each of them is all a little mischievous – and like to have bit of fun too… 😉
Everyone arriving is greeted with warmth and with thought.

Our Climate

A few weeks ago, participants walked into the surprise of a proper Burns Day welcome – complete with a haggis treat.
Yesterday, to celebrate St. Davids Day at the weekend – daffodils and a bright bilingual sign proudly declaring: “𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒐 𝒊 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒉 – 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒉.”
In our learning and leadership development, we often talk about strategy, capability and performance.
But climate is shaped in moments like these – small, intentional acts that say: “You matter. We’re glad you’re here.”
The lesson for me?
Excellence isn’t only found in big presentations or bold strategy statements.
It lives in preparation.
In thoughtfulness.
In going the extra mile when no one asked you to.
The Events Team reminds me that leadership climate begins long before the first slide appears on any screen, rather it begins at the welcome desk and even long before.
Who knows what theme they’ll surprise us with next – but I do know this: When people feel welcomed, they learn better.
I often get to stand at the front of the room with a co-facilitator.
But long before that, Charley, Hannah, Holly and Taylor have already shaped the day.
Who in your world is shaping the experience before you ever step into it?

Clicker in Hand

This week I had the pleasure of co-facilitating a Lead the Way – leadership session with my colleague Nikki Bartlett of Korn Ferry at Aviva in Perth.
We’ve worked together often enough now to know each other’s rhythm and facilitation style. One of us steps forward, the other steps back. We build on each other’s ideas. We throw in the occasional spontaneous activity. We tease each other, laugh together, and all the while participants join in.
There was one constant from Monday to Wednesday.
The wireless presentation clicker.

The Clicker

The clicker moved between us throughout the day. My turn. Your turn. Step forward. Step back.
And in many ways, so did the learning.
In our facilitation world, the clicker is more than a tool. It’s a signal. Whoever holds it is guiding that stretch of the learning. It might be 30 minutes, or even an hour or two.
However, there was just one small issue…
Each of us must have misplaced it at least ten times – old age I hear you say!
It vanished onto tables. Slipped behind laptops. Hid on chairs. At one point, I’m fairly sure it developed legs. By Tuesday afternoon, we were casually asking the room during every pause, “Has anyone seen the clicker?”
It became our unofficial catchphrase!
And yet, somewhere between losing it for the sixth time and the tenth, something struck me.
The clicker kept moving between us all week.
But the learning moved even more.
It moved from us to the participants.
From one table to another.
From a question in the room to a story at the back.
And often, right back to us again.
And the funny thing is, every time the clicker disappeared, the learning didn’t stop.
The conversation carried on, the thinking deepened and the energy stayed in the room.
Which is a good reminder for those of us who work in learning and development.
Slides, models or tools don’t create learning and the clicker definitely doesn’t.
It is curiosity, dialogue and shared ownership that does.
The clicker changed hands all week.
But the real learning in the room wasn’t driven by a button, it was driven by each participant.
So, what moves learning for you?

The Quiet Signals We Send

I was reminded of an old, but meaningful story yesterday, while facilitating a leadership session at Aviva in Perth.
As my co-facilitator George set up a buddy coaching activity, he mentioned the importance of eye contact.
He simply said that whoever you made eye contact with on the count of 3, would be your buddy for the next activity.
It was a simple passing comment, but it really landed.
In that moment it took me back to an experience from a few years ago.
I was in Brussels, Belgium to address a large conference.
A few minutes before I was to share my remarks, I noticed a little boy, around 6 years old, looking directly at me.
In that split second, I made eye contact with him, tilted my head slightly to one side, smiled, and gave him a friendly little wink.
He smiled back and tried a little wink too.
For a brief moment in time – we enjoyed our little connection and smiled together.
It was an innocent thing.
It was just a quiet, human signal that said, 𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖.
In that instant, connection happened, without any words, or any effort.
Watching participants pair up yesterday, I noticed the same thing happen.
It is particularly important in building rapport and establishing a connection.
When eye contact was present, people slowed down.
Listening deepened and somehow the room softened.
And that’s the thing, we didn’t create connection by doing more.
We simply created it by noticing more.
These moments are easy to miss and easy to rush past.
But they’re often where the real work happens.
In leadership, coaching, and facilitation, we often focus on what we say.
But connection is just as often created in the quiet moments…through presence, attention, and the signals we send without speaking.
Sometimes, all it takes is a little wink to remind someone they matter.
Who in your world might simply need to feel seen?

Facilitating Learning

Last week, while facilitating a leadership development session with my colleague Jennifer at Aviva in Perth, I was reminded of something simple, yet important.
What we do as facilitators is often described as training, but that word doesn’t quite tell the whole story.
Training suggests content delivered and instructions followed, often focused on specific tasks or skills.
But learning is different.
Learning happens when people pause, think for themselves, reflect on their own experience, and decide what they might do differently, if anything at all. It’s less about short-term competence and more about long-term growth.
I was also reminded as facilitators, we wear many hats. We’re guides, listeners, designers, timekeepers, sense-makers and occasionally quiet instigators of good discomfort.
Our role isn’t to provide all the answers, but rather to create the conditions where learning can take place.
– The 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐬 we share matter – by giving people language for things they already feel but haven’t yet named.
– The 𝐓𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬 matter because they slow thinking down and help turn insight into action.
– The 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 matter most, because learning sticks when people talk, test, practice, and make ideas their own.
Working alongside Jennifer was a reminder of something else too.
We weren’t trying to be the same. Our styles, pace, and energy were different.
Yet there was a shared awareness that the learning improved when we listened closely to one another, adjusted in the moment, and allowed space for rhythm rather than control. Not sameness, but harmony.
Unity ≠ Sameness, Unity = Harmony
Harmony in our facilitation showed up through timing, restraint, and responsiveness… sensing when to step forward, when to step back, when to speak, and when to let silence do the heavier lifting.
That isn’t training. It’s learning in motion.
And sometimes, it’s helped along by a very large Sharpie… making thinking visible, a little messier, and far more fun for everyone in the room.
What helps learning come alive for you?

Let’s take this for a walk…

Yesterday on a Lead the Way programme for Aviva in Perth, my colleague invited participants to leave their chairs behind and head out for a walk-and-talk coaching conversation.

As people paired up and started moving, I was reminded once again of the quiet power of coaching on the move.

I recalled a moment from a few years ago, when I was asked: “Where is the best place for a coaching conversation?”

I think I’ve coached in just about every setting you can imagine.

These days it’s more often on Zoom or Teams.

However, over the last few years, it’s also been parks and beachfronts as well as offices, hotel receptions, coffee shops, trains, planes, taxis, corridors, and more conversations in my own living room than I ever expected when I first trained as a coach.

What I’ve learned is this: Coaching conversations can happen anywhere.

But the best place is always the one where the coachee feels safe, at ease, and able to speak freely about what really matters.

Like yesterday, walking together added something extra.

Participants tend to be calmer, less tense, and more open than when sitting in a chair.

The shared movement can soften the intensity, reduce the pressure of eye contact, and help thoughts flow more easily.

Research also shows that it boosts creativity and cognitive flexibility.

A change of scenery often helps to change the conversation.

It shifts the energy, the pace, and sometimes the insights too.

What matters most, though, is presence.

Being fully there, in mind, body, and spirit.

Two people genuinely paying attention to one another and actively listening.

In one conversation I had yesterday, somehow the topic of Gleneagles Hotel arose.

And yes, for the record, one of the very best places I have ever coached was the restaurant there… where the coaching came with a beautiful lunch that my client kindly paid for!

I remain open to repeating that particular environment once more! 😉

Commonly leadership development looks like frameworks and models.

But in my experience, sometimes it looks like a good walk, an open conversation, and making time for some space to think.

How does changing the setting change the conversation for you?

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?

In Due Time

On Monday, one of the brown laces in my favourite shoes snapped.
It had been fraying and wearing thin for quite some time.
In a rush to fix it, I made a rudimentary knot and tied the two parts together again.
The next day I looked for some replacement laces in the supermarket but couldn’t find a match.
For a split second, I thought about measuring them.
But then, I simply stretched the old lace in my two hands, guessed the length and ordered them online.
They arrived the next day.
Unfortunately, I’d ordered the wrong size.
They were 20 centimetres too short.
So, I ordered online again.
This time the correct size arrived the next day.
Reflecting this morning, it struck me how much time I put into something so small, yet so important.
A lace breaking.
A guess that was close, but not close enough.
A second attempt that finally worked.
The hassle of having to return something online.
If I had slowed down a little longer, taken out a measuring tape, then I would have avoided the mistake.

Small things are really big things

It was a simple lesson again for me about slowing down, taking time and paying attention.
Measuring the old lace properly, would have taken me a few seconds to do so, but I chose to guess.
This morning, preparing for church, I held the old and the new laces in my hand and placed them next to a favourite scripture in Romans 5: 3-5

One set is old, frayed and held together with a knot.

The other is new, strong and fits as they should.
In our journey through life, we often forget the importance of the small things.
I have learned many small and simple things in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
He is patient with our haste. He heals us through our mistakes. He renews what is worn.
I know that if we are willing to slow down, we begin to see His hand in the small things.
What small thing are you rushing past right now?

The Power of the Small

Yesterday, whilst driving to Perth, I was listening to Radio 4 when a true story was shared about an event from this week, 65 years ago, that I’d never heard before.
On 24 January 1961, a U.S. Air Force B-52 bomber suffered a catastrophic failure over eastern North Carolina. The incident is now known as the Goldsboro crash.
The aircraft was carrying two thermonuclear bombs, each with a yield hundreds of times more powerful than Hiroshima.
A fuel leak worsened mid-flight.
As the crew attempted to land, the aircraft broke apart in the air near Goldsboro.
Five of the eight crew members managed to eject. Three were killed.
Both nuclear bombs fell.
One descended by parachute and landed largely intact.
The other began its arming sequence.
Safety systems failed. One after another.
All but one final, low-voltage switch.
That small component, unremarkable, unseen – prevented a nuclear detonation.
The system just held. Barely.
It was a near-miss, at the height of the Cold War, and the scale of it is hard to comprehend.

Lessons Learned

What stayed with me isn’t the drama of the moment, but the imbalance of it all.
A tiny switch. Against a catastrophic outcome.
It’s a sobering reminder that in complex systems, and also in leadership, learning, and life – things rarely fall apart because of one big failure. They unravel through the accumulation of small things: assumptions left unchecked, habits ignored, signals dismissed as insignificant etc.
And sometimes, survival comes down not to heroics or bold intervention, but to something small simply doing what it was meant to do.
As the end of the day, small things, really are big things.
Co-facilitating the Lead the Way programme at Aviva yesterday, made me wonder what the “small switches” are in our teams, our organisations, our families and even ourselves.
The things we barely notice.
The moments we’re tempted to dismiss.
Because occasionally, those small things turn out to be everything.
What small thing, quietly holding in your world right now, might matter far more than you realise?

Why leaders tell stories

We’re all unique.
If you are anything like me, through our daily experiences, each of us gathers small nuggets of wisdom.
When we share our stories, we pass those nuggets on.
They help others learn, reflect, change, and grow.
That has certainly been my experience over the last few months.
In my new role as a leadership facilitator with Aviva, I’ve shared many personal stories.
Not to be the centre of attention, but to support learning and development.
It’s about being vulnerable and building connection by sharing a story with your whole heart.
Life experience has taught me that you need to be able to share your personal and organisational stories in all kinds of settings.
These last few months the stories I have shared have mostly been in the learning rooms or a virtual session.
Some stories are small, others are long, some are funny and entertaining, whilst others are serious and significant.
But the best stories, are always the ones that come to you in the very moment you need them.
I’ve learned to trust that. When a story comes to mind, it’s usually there for a reason.
Last week, during a leadership session, a story surfaced unexpectedly.
I asked for a volunteer and shared an experience from thirty years ago that had suddenly come into my thoughts and the impact was immediate.
It opened up insight, discussion, and learning for everyone in the room.
Don’t be afraid to tell your stories in those moments of truth.
Storytelling is a powerful leadership and learning tool. When used with intention, it creates connection, deepens understanding, and brings learning to life.
If you’ve been carrying a story, one shaped by success, challenge, failure, or learning, consider sharing it.
You never quite know who needs to hear it, or what it might unlock for them.
I’d love to hear your stories too.
The moments that shaped you, taught you something unexpected, or changed the way you lead or live.
What would change if you trusted your story and shared it when it surfaced?
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