Hi Everyone, I hope you are all well!
I’m going back to the normal format of my blog, concentrating on Coaching and NLP, using stories, metaphors and some theory to communicate to you what I hope will be useful for you.
I’m always looking for new knowledge and how to become a better coach, seeking out people whom are at the front of my profession. So, I´m beginning my second course on Coaching the Brain with Joseph O’Connor this week.
This is evidence-based Coaching where we can learn about the Brain and how it acts and reacts in the context of Coaching. Joseph O´Connor and Andrea Larges have written a very useful and interesting book called “Coaching the Brain” where they make neuroscience available to us, who are not neuroscientists, in a straightforward language.
Language matters, it is a powerful tool and we have many examples of how it can be used in advertising, sales techniques, politics, science and one of my favourites, storytelling, just to mention a few.
I was about to go to sleep the other night and I let my mind wander, thinking about just how important language is and a memory came to me. It was from my time at the International department of the Bernadotte school in Copenhagen, which I went to for a while.
There we had a lovely weekly music class with one of my favourite teachers, his name was Andy. I only knew him as Andy and therefore I have no surname. He was a talented pianist, so he would sit at the piano, with his big curly hair, glasses and a thick warm woollen sweater, one of those you see on Nordic series on Netflix. We would all sit on chairs in a circle around him, with our folders with songs in, he would have printed for us, Andy would play, and we would all sing along.
And as my internal voice was taking me down memory lane with Andy´s sweater, I could suddenly remember how the skin on my neck would be itchy and red from the natural wool my mother dressed me in.
Around 1978 or 79 my mother had a winter coat made for me. My mother had taken my older sister, my younger brother and yours truly to Morocco to travel around. I was very blond, with almost white hair and blue eyes and people would walk up to me and touch my hair. I made many friends with the local children, who would speak to me in French which I could not speak, but we had a common language, that was playing.
When we came home from Morocco’s warm sun, and the freezing blue cold began in Denmark my mother had one of her friends sew a winter coat for me, out of a woollen blanket, in warm beautiful colours that she had brought back from Morocco. The lining was made of velvet, so it would be soft on my skin.
I was proud of my coat, it reminded me of our journey but as I had worn it to school my mother got a call from my teacher telling her to get me a proper coat as she felt sorry for me as I might get teased. I didn’t wear that coat to school again.
Anyway, isn’t it wonderful how our brains let us travel in time? I quickly went back to one of the songs I used to sing with Andy.
To Morrow by Bob Gibson
The Kingston Trio.
I started on a journey about a year ago to a little
Town called Morrow in the State of Ohio.
I’ve never been much of a traveler,
And I really didn’t know that Morrow was the hardest
Place I’d ever try to go.
So, I went down to the station for my ticket and applied
For tips regarding Morrow not expecting to be guiled.
Said I, “My friend, I’d like to go to Morrow and return
No later than tomorrow for I haven’t time to burn.”
Said he to me, “Now let me see if I have heard you
Right. You’d like to go to Morrow and return tomorrow night.
You should have gone to Morrow yesterday and back today
For the train that goes to Morrow is a mile upon its way.
If you had gone to Morrow yesterday now don’t you see,
You could have gone to Morrow and returned today at three
For the train today to Morrow,
If the schedule is right, today it goes to Morrow and
Returns tomorrow night.”
Said I, “My friend, it seems to me you’re talking through
your hat. There is a town named Morrow on the line now tell me that.”
“There is, ” said he, “but take me a quiet little tip.
To go from here to Morrow is a fourteen-hour trip.
The train today to Morrow leaves today at eight thirty-five.
At half-past ten tomorrow is the time it should arrive.
So if from here to Morrow is a fourteen-hour jump,
Can you go today to Morrow and get back today, you chump?”
Said I, “I’d like to go to Morrow so can I go today
And get to Morrow by tonight if there is no delay?”
“Well, well, ” said he to me,
“And I’ve got no more to say.
CAN YOU GET anywhere tomorrow and get back again today?”
Said I, “I guess you know it all but kindly let me
Say, how can I get to Morrow if I leave this town today?”
Said he, “You cannot go to Morrow any more today ’cause
The train that goes to Morrow is a mile upon its way.”
I was so disappointed. I was mad enough to swear.
The train had gone to Morrow and had left me standing there.
HE HAD NO RIGHT in telling me that I was a-howling
Jay. I could not go to Morrow so I guess in town I’ll stay.
I was about 12 years old and I remember getting mildly frustrated about the miscommunication and I would think about how the person buying the ticket could have expressed him or herself more clearly from the beginning but also, not assume that the other person was misunderstanding.
The thing is when you assume someone is misunderstanding you, when they are not, the misunderstanding is like a boomerang.
Language matters, it also matters in translations and as I write this I´m wondering how I am going to translate this one to Spanish.
So how would you express yourself to go to morrow today?
I hope you are as happy as you would like to be and remember it is free to be kind.
My best wishes
Ivalo