by Caroline Leach | Mar 5, 2016 | Change, Learning
Can learning a new sport increase your overall ability to learn?
Absolutely, Gretchen Reynolds wrote recently in the New York Times. Learning a new sport may be good for the brain, she says.
Her “crash course in snowboarding” yielded multiple benefits. Not the least of which was underscoring how we learn – by trial and error and bit by bit.
Stand-up paddle boarding, or SUP, is the new recreational activity I’m learning. And as I do, I see many parallels with learning anything new. Here are 10.
Doing. The way to learn something new is by actually doing it on a regular basis. Lessons are a good way to start. Depending on what you’re learning, a lesson may be best in person (definitely the case for SUP) or online (certainly an option for my data-focused learning journey).
Experimenting. During today’s SUP session, I tried some different things. What happened if I leaned a bit to the right or the left? Bent my arms and legs slightly? Tried to stop by placing my paddle further into the water?
Equipping. Having the right tools is important for any activity. That doesn’t always mean the most expensive equipment, or having every last available gadget. But in my case, the winter jacket I got last week keeps me warm on cool Southern California mornings. And it has plenty of room for my shoulders and arms to move while paddling.
Questioning. What else do I need to do to learn and enjoy this new activity? How can I make it more of a workout? What will I need to change over time to keep the experience new and fresh? Is there a goal I can work toward? In the short term, for this summer, it’s paddleboard yoga. In the long term, for next year, maybe it’s training for a race.
Reading. After our first (and so far only) lesson, I read a few articles about the proper technique. Initially I was so focused on keeping my balance that I needed to revisit the finer points of proper stroke technique, how to turn and how to stop. There are many great articles and videos online.
Committing. What will be the catalyst to continue this activity? In my case it was getting an annual membership today. The more my husband and I paddle, the less expensive each session becomes. It reminds me of my high-school skiing days. I’d motivate myself to take that final run of the day in order to bring down the average cost per run. Maybe that explains my college major in economics.
Scheduling. Beyond the commitment is getting our sessions on the calendar. Each weekend, I look at our family’s school, sports and community commitments. Then I schedule on our calendar when we’ll paddle. It’s the same thing with my Sunday morning yoga class. When it’s on the calendar, it’s harder to skip it.
Sharing. This is special time my husband and I are spending together. And I have a friend or two who will join us this spring. It’s fun to talk about what works, how to navigate on our boards and wonder together why our feet get a bit numb while we paddle. It might be time for more lessons.
Multiplying. The jargon-appropriate term here would be “stacked win.” But whenever you can accomplish multiple objectives with a single activity, that’s a great thing in our busy worlds. With SUP there’s an arm and core workout, family time, outdoor air and the novelty of something new for your body. Which benefits your brain and stimulates greater ability to learn in other areas of life.
Enjoying. There’s a meditative quality to gliding across the water. Listening to waves crashing outside the marina. Smiling at the sight of seals enjoying a marine mammal barge as we paddle boy. Time seems to slow down. Life comes into greater focus. The brain stretches and grows in new ways, right along with the body and soul.
by Caroline Leach | Feb 27, 2016 | Change, Learning, Marketing & Analytics
Does what we say to ourselves influence how much, how fast and how well we can learn new things?
Absolutely, says Erika Andersen, the author of the forthcoming book Be Bad First.
She outlines 4 key mental tools in her Harvard Business Review article, Learning to Learn. They are aspiration, self-awareness, curiosity and vulnerability.
Aspiration. Andersen says “great learners can raise their aspiration level.” How? By focusing on the benefits of what you’ll learn, rather than on the challenges in the learning process. A good question to ask is “What would my future look like if I learned this?”
Self-awareness. This is about seeking feedback and taking action on it. Good questions to ask yourself about feedback are “Is this accurate?” “What facts do I have to support it?” and “How do I compare with my peers?”
Curiosity. Andersen writes that “curiosity is what makes us try something until we can do it it, or think about something until we understand it.”
If you’re not interested in a new subject, Anderson advocates changing your self-talk to ask why others find the subject so interesting.
As a person interested in words, ideas and influence, my curiosity is helping me find where those interests intersect with analytics and big data.
In starting to read Tom Davenport‘s Big Data @ Work, I became more curious about how organizations of the future will better focus on the collaboration and communications activities of their people.
This led me to a footnote that took me to another book called Social Physics. This is defined as “analyzing patterns of human experience and idea exchange within the digital bread crumbs we all leave behind us as we move through the world.”
Now I’m truly fascinated and thinking about the connections with another book I read last year, The Reputation Economy. This is about how individuals can shape their digital footprint at a time when your reputation can dictate the kind of life you’ll live and what opportunities may be available to you.
Vulnerability. This is about the scary prospect of “being bad at something for weeks or months; feeling awkward and slow; having to ask ‘dumb’ questions; and needing step-by-step guidance again and again.”
The cure? Changing what you say to yourself. Andersen suggests that instead of saying “I’m terrible at this,” replace it with, “I’m making beginner mistakes, but I’ll get better.”
As I’m pursuing my own learning project and getting up to speed in a new role, I reminded myself of trying out for a sports team in high school.
When I showed up for the first practice before tryouts, I almost didn’t come back the next day. I felt uncoordinated, self-conscious and silly. But I made myself come back the next day. And the next.
And happily, I made the team. But what if I’d given up that first day? What if I’d allowed myself to believe that I was terrible and had no hope of getting better?
There are very few things we can’t learn if we tell ourselves we can. And if we encourage ourselves with positive thoughts. And remind ourselves that others don’t notice our mistakes as much as we might think.
I have to tell myself that frequently as I walk into yet another figurative wall by mistake. Oops. That hurt. Did anyone notice my mistake?
But the important thing is the dust yourself off. To keep moving forward. And to avoid making the same mistake twice.
What’s a good way to do that? By being kind to yourself. Encourage yourself. Have faith that with grit and perseverance, you can do what you set out to do.
One day this month I came home and a friend from a community group had left a thank-you card and a book on my doorstep. The book is “The Power of Kindness.” It’s about “the unexpected benefits of leading a compassionate life.”
And while the main focus of the book is on being kind to others, there is power in being just as kind to ourselves.
That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t set aspirational goals and have high standards for ourselves. But it does mean encouraging ourselves and asking how we could do better next time.
In addition to my learning journey in data and analytics, I’ve written in this blog about learning stand-up paddle boarding and learning yoga. My goal this summer is to combine the two.
Today I went paddle boarding and tomorrow I’ll take a yoga class. The benefit to both is a kind of zen that helps me be kinder to myself and to others.
It pulls me out of the moment-to-moment frenzy of everyday life and puts me in a meditative state. A reflective state. A refreshed state.
All the better to keep learning.
by Caroline Leach | Feb 7, 2016 | Change, Work/Life
As if Super Bowl 50 wasn’t enough excitement for one weekend, try two high-school winter formals and a retirement party on one super Saturday night.
All of these events interwoven with seemingly unrelated threads got me thinking. Mainly about the similarities among life’s transitions. And how we have more in common with each other than we think we do.
Whether you’re just starting high school, as my son is. Or finishing high school and contemplating college, as my daughter is. Or celebrating 35 years of service with a company, as a former boss of mine is.
As one phase of life ends, there are misty-eyed memories and fond farewells. Peering into the next phase, there’s the excitement – and trepidation – about what the future holds. And there’s a reminder that the present is precious.
The misty-eyed moment at the retirement party was a heartfelt speech by the honoree, Paul James. True to Maya Angelou, I remember the feeling more than the actual words. But they were about how we’re all shaped and influenced by the special people we choose to surround ourselves with.
Looking around that room in the company of my husband, I saw many wonderful colleagues, past and present. I thought about how much I’ve learned from them and others I’m privileged to work with.
I thought about my daughter gathering earlier in the day for photos with her dressed-up friends by the Malaga Cove Library, laughing and enjoying the moment.
They – and their fellow high-school seniors – have worked so hard. They’ve studied, taken test after test, stepped up to leadership roles, given back to their communities and applied to colleges.
This is their moment to savor their hard work and their friendships. With luck and good grace, there will be a lifetime of moments ahead for them.
And I thought about my son, attending his first formal. The red carpet at the entrance to Wendy and Jason Moskowitz’s home where the ninth graders gathered in advance took on special meaning. It reminded me of these students’ upcoming transition from adolescence to adulthood.
The common thread? There is so much ahead, no matter what stage of life you find yourself in.
As Marina Keegan wrote in her widely read Yale Daily News essay, The Opposite of Loneliness – “we have to remember that we can still do anything.”
There is much to be grateful for today. And much to look forward to tomorrow.
This is shaping up to be an historic year. In our family, our oldest child is heading off to college. Of course, we don’t yet know where that will be. But all will be revealed soon enough. Isn’t that the same for everything in life?
In sports, the Super Bowl turns 50 today and the Olympics are coming this summer. In politics, the citizens of the United States will choose a new president this fall.
In science and technology, we’re seeing accelerating change with driverless cars, drones, artificial intelligence, the connections of everything, and so much more.
As I was thinking about transitions and passages this sunny Sunday, I returned to the site of an earlier transition. It was my daughter’s bridging ceremony from Brownies to Girl Scouts in grade school.
Speaking of special people, she and several of her classmates were led by two incredible troop leaders, Gina Ann and Allyson Rener.
They took the girls on a decade full of amazing outings, from ropes courses and horseback riding to behind-the-scenes tours at storied companies and nonprofits.
The bridging ceremony was no exception. We spent a beautiful day at the South Coast Botanic Garden. As each girl walked over the bridge (pictured above), with a rose in hand, she moved from one phase of Girl Scouts into the next.
And as they near high-school graduation, I’m especially thankful for the wonderful experiences that Gina and Allyson offered these girls who have grown into accomplished young women.
What I feel this weekend is the elusive yet powerful “opposite of loneliness.” It’s what Marina Keegan profoundly articulated before her tragic death a few days after her essay was published.
As uncertain as life can be, I’m exceedingly grateful for the people who touch my life. I’m exceptionally aware of how precious the present is. And I’m happy to be reminded that we’re all linked to each other through generations, years, transitions and passages.
May you find much joy this day and every day, wherever you are on your journey.
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