Beyond the basement

Do you have unrelentingly high standards? Ever beat yourself up because nothing's ever quite good enough? Can you spot flaws and mistakes in everything? It could be that you have a particularly vocal inner critic, or live with a high degree of judgement in your life. Here's my heartfelt exploration of what it's like living with judgement, how it behaves under stress and security, as well as a few helpful reframes if you relate to any of this.

What is anger? How do you feel about it? Classic BtB territory here as I process some recent triggers that provoked my own unique flavour of anger. There's also reflections on how we might express it in healthier ways so it doesn't linger and torment.

I wonder out-loud if there's an appetite for more human-to-human tenderness. By that I mean vulnerable moments where we're both answering the question "what's it like being you" openly, without fear of shame, judgement and reprisal.

Even if you're not a dog person, these furry, stripped-back mammals hold the wisdom of the universe in their tiny minds, if we're open to listening. Here's everything (so far) I'm learning about peace, presence, trust and other virtues, from Laurie.

I accidentally-on-purpose crafted a really productive day, even though what came out of it was 'wrong'. Here are some reflections on what we might do to affect our state (energy, motivation, moods), and what works - so we feel hopeful, inspired and creative, regardless of outcomes. Note: not all my days are like this...

A fruitful first wander in the wintry French countryside reminds me how people and memories leave a spooky kind of residue.

Here's how to tell if your beautiful mind isn't serving you as well as it could be at the moment. We'll explore five common symptoms of 'being up in your head' as we call it in improv - not enjoying the here-and-now, feeling fatigued and fed-up, like you don't know, zoned out or dwelling on the past/future. There's hope here too, as we explore antidotes and ways to break the cycle of excess thinking.

Here's what happens when we put a little effort into feeling good about where we are and who we're with. These are my reflections from a recent Leeds improv Co-Lab play session I hosted, exploring these ideas to see how they improve our performance and free up our natural potential.

Before, during and after a tricky experience - how do you support yourself, if at all? When the panic, fear, shame, anger arrives, do you distract yourself or sit with it? Or like many people I expect do you just accept mild traumatizing as part of the deal you didn't sign up for when you were born?

I hear this phrase a LOT in the change work I do with individuals. People usually say it when we come up against the very value or belief you have that's at the root of some behaviour that's unhelpful, holding you back or otherwise not serving you any more. It's a denial of the very thing that defines you as a human - your ability to learn, cope and adapt.

What links a chilly dawn swim and improv? Let's find out shall we... I've just emerged from a very cold lake. I can barely feel my hands. Yet my still frozen body has all manner of juicy reflections for you from yesterday's big workshop, about finding calm in your body, landing in the here-and-now, when you're a bit panicked, stressed or distracted.

Chris gets spooked at the dentist, feels a bit sensitive, then talks all about how we might all do well to become better listeners and communicators alongside each other. Instead of fixers and solvers. Sure, we need both. But mainly more of the former, I reckon.

Ever had one of these? After a big event, a risk taken, a tough conversation or being in front of a group. You get a sort of fragile, sad, hyper-sensitive feeling in the hours or days afterwards that's difficult to place. Here's what could be going on.

It's another lesson I'm doomed to learn over and over again, or people like me. This week it's seeing things as either wholly bad/wrong or wholly good/right, with no room for the colourful nuance in between. Because that's where the richness of life is. And things are rarely either/or. Life is full of paradox, two seemingly opposing truths both being equally valid - like I'm excited AND I'm scared. That didn't go to plan, AND people loved it.

A quick reflection on how last night's play session at Leeds Improv Co-Lab went. It was all about feeling into the here-and-now, and noticing who's right alongside us. Basically feeling safe and comfortable enough to have a jolly nice time. This is a stepping stone towards offering a more immersive, day-long workshop all about this thing I care about and have struggled with myself sometimes - not just in improv, in everyday life too. Maybe you can relate, even if you've never improvised? Being all up in your head, panicky, zoned out or distracted and overthinking things. The scourge of this modern age.

I'd never heard of this improv principle until a recent workshop. Here I'm puzzling how it might help when it comes to uncertainty, and being vulnerable about what we don't know in the face of new challenges.

A quick explanation and apology for why you might have noticed guests appearing in episodes, when you thought it was just you and I playing here.

Two (mis)adventures in stand-up comedy for you here: what, how and why it went disastrously wrong for me. But also what, how and why it goes really well. Juicy learnz here for anyone who performs or speaks in public, or just wants to be more open and available with family, friends and colleagues.

When you get going it's really hard to stop, especially on focused tasks you enjoy. For me it's DIY. And the lesson I'm doomed to repeat here is not stopping and putting healthy boundaries on what enough looks like. I didn't get much sleep last night because of all yesterday's doing.

Another lesson some of us are doomed to learn over and over again. This time it's about procrastinating, avoiding doing or otherwise being perennially indecisive about that thing you keep putting off. And how we keep forgetting how satisfying and easy (or at least nowhere-near-as-hard as you feared it would be), it was once you've done it.

Are you one of those people affected by the weather? Does it seem like your mood tracks the sky? Chris is ranting at the clouds for his melancholy, wanting the grey damp duvet above to be anything other than what it is.

My friend and fellow coach Ellie and I explore what goes on for us 'usually productive doers' when we're feeling under the weather. We talk about how to manage our energy levels, moods and motivation. How hard it can be slowing down, and why reflection and retreat isn't a frivolous luxury.

Anything worthwhile should be HARD WORK and worth SUFFERING for, right? And you must PUSH FORWARDS with urgency to get there. I’m beginning to wonder how helpful these beliefs are. And whether the opposite is true - the gentler you are with yourself, the more life unfolds in an agreeable way.

A strong, evocative emotional experience can leave a residue in your system, one that lingers and is tricky to get through. Some reflections here on elation, grief, sadness and hope in the aftermath of Happy Start-up School's Summercamp.

Chris is angry at his sat nav in a service station car park and decides to improvise a live experiment in the theory that the only way out with strong emotions is through. What will we learn? Trigger warning: loud vitriolic ranting.

If my experience at Happy Start-up School's Summercamp this year were a film, this would be the title. My reflections on how I spent three days in the sticks, playing with other business hippies.

What turns you on? No not like that... I'm talking about our instinctual drives: social, sexual and self-preservation. How they play us, if we don't know what they're up to, and how to become more aware of them. This monologue is about the one-to-one aka sexual instinct in particular - creativity and desire. In this episode I'll challenge a few stereotypes and hopefully put you back in touch with yourself. You're an animal!

I suppose you could call this a talking meditation, a kindly lament on what it is to be a fallible human, when things don't go well. While at the same time remembering that's what makes you an inherently good human being. One way to look at this is through the lens of this dignity and humility from Authentic Relating - the art of being human.

If you don't get out the house, are you a bit like a dog who hasn't been walked? Climbing the walls. Going out of your mind. If so, you could be like Ellie and I, for whom movement, nature and connection with other people is a necessity.

Ellie is my friend and a fellow coach. Together we're running a series of immersive Co-Walking events to help people like us get a more rich and meaningful experience from retreat into nature, away from the seeming madness that is modern life.

This issue is the scourge of our modern age. The way we zone out, live on autopilot or spend all our time lamenting either the future or the past, instead of what's unfolding right before our eyes. Here's my take on what could be going on, as I explore this phenomenon through improvisation and authentic relating.

Hi. I'm a beginner. By that I mean curious, enthusiastic, a learner, playful. I don't have everything sussed out. Would you want to be any other way? The world seems to expect that though - flawless experts who get things right first time, every time. I see it in politics, industry and other walks of life.

This was prompted by soon launching my own improv/authentic relating inspired workshops, and noticing the fears, hesitance, shame and doubts that get in the way of doing fun stuff we really care about.

Hope you don't mind me nudging the podcast into edgier territory but here we go... Some reflections on my experiences of the great leveller, what it revealed to me about life, myself and others. We'll also go deeper into expectations and responsibility too, what motivates us and who you truly are when things turn bleak. There's hope too. Recorded on the anniversary of my mum's death, Dorothy Kenworthy who died in 2005.

At the beginning of most days I check-in with myself by wondering who's showing up inside - urges, desires, feelings sensations and mental preoccupations. We call these our parts, and getting to know them, helping them feel seen and heard, is undoubtedly one of the most helpful practices I have for feeling more present, happier and hopeful about the day ahead. I explore all this, how I do it and why in this episode.

Listen to 'Something to help when you're overwhelmed or need motivation' episode for the guided technique I mention here.

I could be way off here - drawing parallels between substance abuse, and that urge to perpetually do and make, that drives people like us. But maybe there's something to this. The fact is that excessive productivity and progress destroys relationships and wellbeing, just like any other compulsive behaviour. What do you reckon?

One of my favourite improv principles, and one those of us with a tendency to pragmatism and practicality, would do well to remember. This one's all about gravitating towards that which makes life worth living, when we're faced with choices about what to do next and how to do it.

It could be a faceless voice, all cynical and nit-picky about everything that’s wrong. Maybe it’s a fully fleshed out character in your mind’s eye - a haughty, enthroned judge sat above everyone and everything, passing its uninvited verdicts.

Do you have one? Or two? Three?

Some days, events, arbitrary points in time come with emotional baggage. For me it's Mondays, a heaviness, a melancholic sigh, and the dread of expectation. Which is totally at odds with reality. This one's all about the emotional undercurrents that, if we're not aware of, can rule us. Here's how I'm working with Mondays, after years of resistance.

When a DIY job begins to turn sour, Chris gets his 1000th lesson in knowing when to back away because he's hungry/angry/lonely/tired. This one's all about feeling into our tendency to get swept along with the relentless, forward motion of productivity.

I've landed home after ALL the adventures during June and July. Yet fun and joy and can bleed into one long conveyor belt of stuff coming at you, much like the obligations and responsibilities of day-to-day life. Even when you're supposed to be having fun, it can be tricky to savour the here-and-now.

Love? Kindness? Hugs? Well they'd certainly help but I think there's a more pragmatic option too - human connection. What does that even mean though? And how do you get more of it when so much seems to get in the way?

"When we fail to prioritise the things we should, it is often because the dominant instinct takes more than its fair share." - this quote from Cicci Lyckow Bäckman might just explain why we sometimes avoid or distract ourselves from getting round to those things we should do, and would probably enjoy doing or which would make our lives easier. But what are our core instinctive drives? What is going on? Join me on a wander through the countryside as I too try to make sense of this perennial human problem.

Here's a timeless struggle I hear in coaching - what gets in the way of just being content with the way things are instead of feeling tense and irritated by it (or how things COULD be different). Join me on a ramble through the French countryside as we ponder the paradoxes of the human condition. How tres Français.

We've all got behaviours, habits, characteristics about ourselves we'd like to change. How do you react when they show up? With regret, shame, anger? What if that's like abandoning yourself...

Ever avoid or distract yourself from complicated, seemingly huge jobs because there's too many unknowns? Here's what could be going on.

This morning I woke up with a start. To a memory of one of the scariest scenes I've ever played. And it wasn't even improv. Here are some reflections from the front line of terror.

Do you wave longingly as guests depart, or shut the door and get on with life? Do you race from one thing without finishing the other?After a long weekend's improv retreat, I chew over our tricky emotional relationship with transitions, thresholds and change. All while feeling a little tender myself.

In all of us, there's a part forever scanning for evidence to confirm all our worst fears. And when it finds evidence, a story begins to play. What's yours? Here's mine and how I'm trying a different, kinder response...