Benign influence

Earlier this month, I enjoyed three days in the most incredible space. This had a significant effect on my mood, demeanour and levels of motivation. It feels like I’ve been supercharged.

I spend the time working hard (although it feels like playing hard) on a residential course for 150 young people aged 13 to 19, hosted at Marlborough College (the swanky public school in Wiltshire). Students from all over the country, mixing in such distinguished surroundings, creates an air of Hogwarts meets Byker Grove. The programme is run by the Youth of Today (which exists to create leadership opportunities for young people). I’m part of a team of 100 coaches, facilitators, speakers, ops staff and project leaders.

We’re treated to beautiful food (I’ve never seen such an expansive cheese board) amongst centuries’ worn flagstones (riven with glacial valleys molded by a million footsteps) presided over by incredibly friendly, thoughtful and upbeat staff.

At one point, I’m finishing up a really challenging session involving an exercise where 16- and 17-year-olds, who’d met each other only yesterday, are challenged to fall backwards off an oil drum into each others’ arms (while a film crew interviews us). As an aid to maintain the high levels of focus and motivation necessary to keep everyone safe, I promise there’ll be refreshments provided afterwards. I hope very hard that the goodies will appear as the Fellows (as we refer to them) are sweaty, tired, exultant and in need of a cold drink. They’ve met me only recently and I’m working hard to build their trust. Wanton promising of non-existent biscuits is a sure way to lose friends and alienate people.

Walking them back to the courtyard, I’m greeted by six large trestle tables, flanked by staff in proper waiter-y uniforms, offering hot and cold drinks and… wait… am I seeing things?… an ocean of doughnuts, sat in individual little cardboard boats. The staff smile and chat and are positive about the Fellows, some of whom are studded with piercings, clad in hoodies and not the type one usually expects to find at Marlborough.

The physical environment however is not what prompts me to make the significant personal transition from the moment I arrive at Marlborough, to the time I leave. I’d turned up on Friday night, after a disrupted train journey, very tired, moderately stressed and in mild need of a weekend on the sofa with Grey’s Anatomy and a large bar of Green and Blacks. Three days later, despite (or perhaps because of) working 7am to 11pm days, running around, focusing incredibly hard, and putting a huge amount of energy into supporting the Fellows, I finish up full of energy, bounce and invigoration.

Of course the physical environment helps, but what really does it for me are my colleagues. A highly charged atmosphere often ascends when a room is filled with coaches (as in mentors/facilitators/supporting people…. not as in buses). (For the record it’s quite confusing organising a group of coaches to meet a group of Fellows (which we keep erroneously referring to as ‘students’ as we became accustomed to the terminology) as they arrive on a flotilla* of coaches (which we ended up calling buses for clarity’s sake).) In a roomful of coaches, typically, every single person smiles when you catch their eye and one can’t move for rapport. Questions are ricocheting around the room, slicing gently through the air of intent listening.

And we have all this, and more.

This isn’t your average roomful of coaches networking and looking for business opportunities. Everyone is at the Youth of Today to inspire, to challenge, to train and to support a group of young people as they work to effect change in their communities.  It’s all about the Fellows, not about us. And I have never experienced such esprit de corps.

Despite physical tiredness and mental drain, all interactions with team mates are upbeat, friendly, sincere and caring. Joined by a clear common purpose and with logistical support beyond measure (we have an exemplary ops team who can rustle up a white board marker pen in minutes, accompanied by a side order of banter and smiles) everyone is on their game.

And here’s the point of this post. That being on-their-game-ness rubs off on me. It’s impossible to be around this crew without becoming saturated in positivity, energy, and care. We’re supporting the Fellows, and in turn we’re being supported to be great at our job, and encouraged to look after ourselves so we can be even more effective. The feeling was so intense, so pleasurable and memorable, that back at home, facing the same stresses as before, I can conjure it up in seconds. And here’s the thing. That feeling was a function of the people who were around me.

So many of the people on the team I meet, or I already know and with whom I became a little closer, have achieved something incredible, are outstanding at their job, have amazing skills or a wise view of the world. Rubbing shoulders with such people is inspiring and motivating. And that’s even before we meet the Fellows. Some of them (still in their teens) have already set up huge community projects, are mature and impressive beyond their years, can dance like they’re on MTV, accompany themselves singing songs they’ve written, and tell tales of daring do.

I read somewhere that we tend to become the average of the five people with whom we associate the most. However true this is, I know that the people I hang out with have a huge effect on me. Their world view affects my world view. Their moods change or reinforce my own. Sharing their experiences colour my own beliefs.

I’ve been living just outside Oxford for six months now, in a little rural idyll rather isolated from the cornucopia of delights that the city has to offer. P and I have enjoyed perfect neighbours (and friends) living next door, and of course the cat, for company. That’s been supplemented by the wonders of the Oxford Tube ferrying visitors from and visits to London, and beyond, to enjoy friendships both new and long, all rich and enriching.

The cat and the neighbours are moving on, and the time has come to cultivate some more mates in our new habitat.  Their importance will be significant as our beautiful brains (and we all have beautiful brains) have a tendency to attune themselves to the dominant feelings of the people with whom we hang out.

Because we are gloriously sociable creatures, humans tend to harmonise their emotional states with those around them in a ‘symphony of mutual exchange and internal adaption’†. This has been described by scientists as ‘limbic resonance’. The theory is that our individual nervous systems are interdependent.  They’re influenced by the forces of empathy and non-verbal communication, as we adapt to and reflect the moods of those around us.

This means that when we spend a night on the sofa with an old mate who’s really chilled and happy, the chances are we’ll end up feeling more chilled and happy at the end of the evening than we were at the beginning (despite watching some truly low brow TV at the same time, old mate – you know who you are). Similarly, if we’re surrounded by moany people day after day, who drain our reserves of oomph and positivity, the effect is likely to depress our outlook, our behaviour and our success rate.

According to Daniel Goleman(et al)’s book Primal Leadership, great leaders spread emotions at the positive end of the scale (aspiration, compassion, connection, or purpose) which set fire to the part of the brain which looks after motivation. This is what happened to me last week.

Which five people do you spend the most time with and what effect do they have? Whose lead would you like to follow?

*I can find no collective noun for either coaches (supportive) or coaches (buses). Suggestions welcome.

†The term limbic resonance was coined, and the above description given, in a book called ‘A General Theory of Love’ 2000 (and with a title like that it’s going straight on my Amazon wishlist)

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