I spent yesterday afternoon clearing out an old man's garden shed. It was the normal treasure trove of heritage tools and artifacts, well worn and much loved. Sturdy wooden handled spades, forks, axes and rakes - built to last, blurred with time. Old jam jars and biscuit tins full of 'round-to-its' and 'may-come-in-handys'. Everything covered in a gentle patina of dust and soil, rust and toil.
Amongst the time coddled treasures was a muddled, muddied bundle garden twine. Slowly I began to untangle it. It reminded me of one of my grandmother's exercises designed to calm me down and teach me the virtues of purposeful patience. 'Here, help me untie this,' she would say and hand me a huge knotted ball of string.
An hour or so later I would hand her a neatly wound ball. 'There we are,' she'd say, 'that wasn't so bad was it?'
A couple of years ago I used a version of this exercise with a management team I was meant to be coaching. I spent part of an evening tangling mountain climbing rope into the most almighty Gordian Knot I could fit into my corporate workshop. We kicked off the next morning's session with the simple instruction, 'Sort it out as a team.'
The predictable scrum followed. Seven voices; six different process suggestions; five diagrams; four bystanders; three working groups; two minutes to go; one guy left holding the last knots - result!
Some problems are best tackled by one person at a time in a quiet old shed. Alternatively give them to my grandmother to sort out.
Tuesday 30 January 2018
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