Introduction
Recently, I have been giving a lot of thought to my own behaviour, attitudes, and beliefs. It seems to me that I have lost the balance between the things that matter and giving too much emotion to others that do not matter at all.
Let me ask you a few questions:
- Have you ever sat in your car and shouted at another driver, even though he couldn’t hear you, because they are too slow to react as the lights turn to green? In fact, I just heard a radio advertisement which acted just this scenario with tooting horns and raised voices, as the contrast to the relaxing holidays on offer
- Do you fume when the person at the front of the queue in your preferred supermarket seems aghast and surprised that there is a need to pay and then fumbles around for a credit card?
- When boarding a bus and the person ahead of you only now thinks to look for money, do you tut loudly?
- Does your blood pressure soar because the guy to your side is served at the bar before you?
I am, or at least I was, the irritated victim of these outrageous social gaffes. It may be too early to say that my poor behaviour is definitely behind me, but I am trying. It had become evident to me, and others, that my reaction to minor and generally irrelevant actions was affecting me and creating a negative atmosphere, and something needed to change.
One of the difficult things to do in any aspect of life is to make a change and this is certainly the case in the workplace. Given that the company for which I work is mine everything is entwined, so irrational behaviour could have a broad impact. We do work in creating change programmes and helping leaders implement new systems, new organisations and new ways of working, so could I use my knowledge for myself? If you also consider I am a business, career, and personal coach I ought to have some skills which could be applied to me.
Crucially, the first step on the route to change is recognition and acceptance of the need for something different, and I was there. The simple technique I am using is to ask myself, as the first twitch of annoyance emerges, “Does it matter?” And it usually doesn’t, so why am I reacting?
Equally, we could ask, “Will this change the behaviour of the people annoying us?” Clearly not the person sat in their car and, therefore, doesn’t even know there is an issue. In fact, I now do not believe my behaviour has ever improved that of someone else in any of these examples.
“Does it matter?” might not seem too powerful but it is doing it for me. It is simple and easy, and I can remember it, even as the blood begins to stir. It does calm me, and I tootle along. By the way, I still think some of our fellow citizens are oblivious to other people and act selfishly. However, I am now determined their ignorance will not affect me emotionally. Let someone else shout and tut.
Having established the things which do not matter, it seemed it might be a good idea to ask, “What does matter?” How many of us have asked this or a similar question?
This isn’t to say I don’t want to feel passion, just to direct it better. I am angry or frustrated about much in our world and that will remain unchanged but I don’t need to feel the same, for example, about people changing lanes in their car and then slowing down in a “deliberate” attempt to irk me. I will still be ecstatic (and shocked) when Birmingham City score a goal but, maybe, my feelings should be as strong or stronger when Parliament enacts something which will affect the world. My desire is not to suppress my emotions and energies, just to direct them more purposefully. But what are the correct things and how are they identified by us, for us. There are many topics and themes in which I have a great deal of interest but how do I prioritise and act?
In a completely separate conversation I was talking about trains. On TV there had been numerous programmes about them recently and I read a book by Nicholas Whittaker called Platform Souls. Whittaker and I are of a similar vintage and I could relate strongly to his descriptions of trainspotting. It may, or may not, be a surprise to women that all men are fundamentally eleven years’ old. We suppress our natural behaviours to find a mate and keep her.
Now here is the key part; Whittaker bought a rail rover ticket to go anywhere in Britain. Could there be a better idea? You may be saying yes, there are few worse ideas but you are going to have to accept I am eleven years’ old and love trains.
How could I justify taking a week away from business and just rattle along for hours on end watching the world go by, whilst reading and musing?
The answer was, of course, the synchronicity of the two thoughts; can I catch a number of trains for a week and, not just to think about what matters to me, but what matters to people more generally? The idea turned into a concept, into an outline, into a plan, into action. The ticket was bought, diary cleared and Pet Paws booked to feed Jemima (small, fat, 17 years’ old cat).
What were the rules to be?
Rule 1 – There are no rules
Rule 2 – See rule 1
However, I did want to get around very widely to observe regional differences and to see the beauty of Britain. Of course, all plans were subject to trains running and running on time. There was a notional schedule:
Day 1 Birmingham to Penzance via Bournemouth
Day 2 Penzance to Haverfordwest
Day 3 Haverfordwest to Inverness (this is bold and long)
Day 4 Inverness to Berwick-on-Tweed (via Elgin)
Day 5 Berwick-on-Tweed to London via Norwich
Day 6 London to Southampton via Margate
Day 7 Southampton to Birmingham via Bristol and Worcester
Day 8 Sleep and convince Jemima I am not going away again for a while.
With the benefit of hindsight it is amazing how close I came to following the plan. I didn’t reach Haverfordwest, as Network Rail were doing maintenance work in the Severn Tunnel, replacing trains with buses and I would have reached West Wales very late, if at all. This minor disappointment was compensated for by a night on the North Wales’ coast, in Colwyn Bay. I also didn’t stop in Margate on the route to Southampton and sleeping-in wasn’t a day 8 option as meetings had entered my diary. Upon my return Jemima followed me around, as she always does, like a dog.
Given I really did want other people’s opinions I needed to keep my coach’s head on, to listen to them and not join fully into the entertaining discussion. I will express my views later but this trip was aimed at hearing what other people think.
Our company is called Coaching by the Balls, which does give some clues. We are also consultants and advisors to businesses about a wide range of people related topics such as teamwork, leadership and, as I mentioned earlier, change implementation.
Naturally, I had been testing the notion of randomly talking to people to elicit their views of “What matters?” The response was very interesting and positive. It seemed I may have accidentally found a need. People want to express their concerns and hopes.
It was an utter coincidence that on the Tuesday before the trip began, Adrian Goldberg on his radio programme on Radio WM asked his listeners to tell him what was making them mad. The answers were reflecting my own frustrations. We were being invited to text in our thoughts. I texted a link to the first blog I had written about my trip, which described my intention to ask people, “What matters?” Later I received a phone call from a member of the production team asking for more detail and, to cut a short story even shorter I went to the studio the next day to be interviewed live by Adrian. We happen to know some of the same people as we went to the same school but years apart.
In one of my answers I mentioned Worcester, so Radio Hereford and Worcester requested a phone interview which was also fun. It is an adaptation of an old joke to say I never look better than when on radio.
Two days after these radio pieces, I was having a quiet pot-of-tea in a well-known bookshop when a woman from Midlands Today, local TV news for the West Midlands, rang as they had heard of my outing. This lady became interested as I gave her a sense of my itinerary and hopes.
I just caught myself typing aims rather than hopes, as there were no goals, objectives or expectations – or rules.
Her thoughts came to life when she ascertained I was in Birmingham city centre. A reporter and cameraman met me by New Street Station for an interview and shots of me interviewing members of the public strolling past innocently. The first four people approached all were willing to be filmed, which was amazing to me. And the story developed; was I prepared to have a reporter and cameraman with me on the train on Monday morning for the outward bound journey from Birmingham to Bournemouth? The answer was, of course, “Yes”.
We met an hour before the departure time on the Monday 10th October 2016 for background shots and to ensure we didn’t miss the train, which in the circumstances, would have been hilarious. Apparently, the BBC were using footage filmed on Friday in the early bulletins (notice all the technical stuff, now I have experienced filming).
The biggest problem was the train was full to the brim; there weren’t enough seats to accommodate people with tickets. However, we ploughed on and found four people willing to be interviewed and, this time, with a live audience of fellow passengers. They all did brilliantly. Naturally, a few people didn’t want to be seen on camera, which was very understandable. Satnam Rana and Nigel (sorry Nigel, I didn’t make a note of your surname) from the BBC alighted at Banbury and stuff was aired that evening but I was in Cornwall and couldn’t see it. It is important to note a clip of Jasper Carrot, also a supporter of Birmingham City FC, was integrated into the piece regarding my trip. I imagine he is telling all his friends about it.
The trip had begun. From the initial thought that a train trip would be fun to the train leaving New Street was only about three weeks. It had a momentum because, for me, it was a good idea. The media involvement made it a hoot but was not part of the plan.
A very fair question before the start was, “How will you get strangers to talk?” Without participation, it was going to be just a train ride. After the cameraman had left the train the atmosphere amongst the passengers changed and, generally, people were very participative. Nobody refused to talk, a very small number were unable or unwilling to express any view apart from “Health and Family” as the things that matter. And they do and that is a totally legitimate answer.
The approach I used varied from a simple, “May I ask you a question?” to there being a natural reason to strike up a conversation such as, “May I ask you about the book you are reading?” As soon as people heard the background story for the journey, most people were generous with their time and thoughts.
One minor frustration was caused by stations; people had to get off the train just as our discussion was getting going. Unfortunately, this was the nature of this particular beast.
On balance, the way strangers involved themselves far exceeded my expectations. I have always been prepared to talk to people but how could I be confident people would reciprocate? After the piece was on TV, the clip on the Midlands Today Facebook page was viewed by 26000 people. More would have watched the programme but that is a staggering number. In the comments section the ratio was around 9:1 in favour of talking to strangers on trains, in favour of putting the iPad to one side and engaging in relationships, however transient.
A brief disclaimer: this is not intended to be a book about philosophy. It may reflect individuals’ personal philosophy as they see it, including mine. However, anyone with an interest in the subject will know the, “May I ask you a question?” was the way Socrates is reputed to have addressed the citizens of Athens. I am not trying to draw any comparison, especially as Socrates was forced to drink poison having upset an Establishment which felt threatened.
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