A wise and wonderful friend recently gave me a copy of 'The Happiness Project' by Gretchen Rubin.  Just as Gretchen herself reflects, it is easy to exist in a state of general equilibrium without ever really stopping to reflect on either the things that currently make us happy, or what it would take to be happier.  Gretchen's work on happiness is very thorough and detailed, and there are a number of things from her book that have resounded with me, both in relation to work and my personal life.

Gretchen decided that for her, happiness requires her to "look at my life and think about feeling good, feeling bad, and feeling right, in an atmosphere of growth" (pg 282).  She talks about the countless responses she had to her project that reflected a belief that focusing on one's own happiness is self-indulgent and unlikely to create any significant change in others.  With some embarrassment, I remember my own cheerful declaration as a young person, that being truly happy must somehow reflect a lack of insight into the vast injustices perpetrated by the human race.  I was seeing pure happiness as having more to do with sheer ignorance than deliberate effort.  This was probably a strange sentiment to come from someone whose reputation was for being cheerful, happy and always laughing.  I can only attempt to explain it via the arrogance of youth and a perception that misery and angst are far more interesting than happiness.

Robert Louis Stevenson is quoted in the book as saying that "There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy." This strikes me as an interesting thing to ponder in relation to support work.  What is our role in relation to bringing positivity with us into people's homes and lives?

Rubin's idea that happiness involves 'feeling good, feeling bad, and feeling right in an atmosphere of growth' could be a helpful guide for us when working with people. One of our great challenges is helping people to be themselves even though people with disabilities may have experienced everything to push them towards compliance and away from self determination, and people in receipt of aged care or medical services may find themselves encouraged in a similar direction.

At times, I think we can be guilty of focusing solely on what helps people to feel good, forgetting that for most of us, there are things which can be anything from mildly irritating to acutely uncomfortable/ unpleasant, that we may still consider necessary parts of feeling right.  I don't particularly enjoy cooking, cleaning or tidying up, yet having spent 2 weeks away living in hotel rooms, eating delivered food from limited menus, I realise there is something to those domestic duties that contribute to me 'feeling right.'  Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely wary of people postulating that people "need to do their bit just like everyone else," even if it leads them to have to communicate dramatically with their behaviour that it makes no sense to them.  I do wonder though if there's more we can be exploring in relation to this, so long as we keep it in the context of what's important to people and how best to support them.

I think active support gets people thinking about the atmosphere of growth, but too often the focus remains on domestic tasks, rather than real questions of what opportunities can be explored to truly support personal development.

I'm curious to know what others think about using Gretchen Rubin's notion of 'feeling good, feeling bad, and feeling right in an atmosphere of growth' to look at how we're doing in supporting people.  (Mind you, the physical growth of my body and my baby feels just about as much as I can deal with right now!)

Leave a comment or email me your thoughts about how we could be using this.

We often talk about the role of person-centred thinking for people who have lost, or are in danger of losing positive control in their lives. As is represented by the diverse groups of people we work with, for some people this has been a life-long condition, for others it may be temporary, for others still, it may have seemed a temporary thing, yet over time they've come to realise that it has taken hold and become a condition that can be hard to shake. For me, the past several months have been an exercise in redefining what it means to feel in control of what's happening in my life.

And here comes the announcement - I am pregnant, due at the end of August. My partner, Pete, and I are delighted, excited, terrified, with a number of other emotions thrown in, depending on the conversation or situation we find ourselves in at the time.

I realise that I'm not the first woman ever to be pregnant, and I certainly won't be the last. However, if we want to take a look at experiences that can contribute to losing positive control, pregnancy certainly provides a few (and as if that isn't challenging enough, people tell me that parenthood can be just the same if not worse - surely not!). I have always been an obsessive supporter of breakfast. Imagine my distress upon realising that I would only be successful in eating breakfast and keeping it down, if I adhered to strict conditions - no eating later than 6.30am, avoiding dairy, making sure I didn't smell anything offensive within the hour before or after breakfast, and sometimes, having to find an alternative to my beloved oats and fruit that I have eaten every morning for so very long. I am yet to reach the point of feeling definite movement, yet it seems that the preferences of this beloved little critter growing inside me, still manage to dictate a lot of what happens through my day - what I eat, when I eat, how much energy I have, whether or not I sleep at night, etc etc. And this is just what's happening with my body.

Aside from this, there is landing in the world of maternity services, a situation where everyone, whether paid or not, has clear and strong opinions about how things should be, and about the decisions we should make. Our journey to this point has not been entirely smooth. This will be our first baby, but not our first pregnancy, so our first few months have not been anxiety free, and we're aware that we don't always see things the same way that other couples who may have had a simpler path to pregnancy do. In all of this, I am thankful for person-centred thinking skills and the means to effective and assertive communication that they present. Throughout our journey they have been immensely helpful, and I am now excited that we have an opportunity to share these with other families using maternity services.

At the same time, HSA are exploring what person-centred thinking can mean for women using maternity services. In the UK, Helen has been working with a midwife, Karina, and a person-centred thinking coach, Lisa, to look at which person-centred thinking tool can be helpful in maternity services.

Here is the graphic that illustrates this:

I am working with Karina, Lisa and Helen, to form a group of people with experience in person-centred thinking, who are interested in this area. We are looking for people who have experience in person-centred thinking, who have a friend or family member who is pregnant, to offer to be a 'person-centred thinking buddy'. This means simply offering to support them to use the person-centred thinking tools that could be useful at each stage. We are hoping in this way to gather experience, stories or examples of how people can use person-centred thinking during pregnancy, childbirth and parenthood. Please email Kerry@helensandersonassociates.co.uk if you are interested.

Of course this will mean some changes for HSA Australia. We are beginning to develop a plan for my maternity leave, looking at some different roles for other team members, Amanda Jones, Tara Cantwell and Sharon Kirsopp. This plan is something of a work in progress, and we will keep you informed of definite changes as plans are finalised.

Thanks to this month's guest blogger, Renata Wallace, from Neighbourhood Connections in Blenheim, New Zealand.

In early September 2011 we were lucky enough to have the amazing Deb Watson come over from Australia to train our team up on Person Centred Thinking Tools.

I was really impressed by her enthusiasm and knowledge and especially by her realism. The way the course was presented fitted well with my style of learning. I felt included and understood by Deb, because the way we were learning about the PCT tools was by using them on ourselves and colleagues. I also found it both interesting and insightful asking family and friends questions too. I enjoyed the way the questions were written. They were easy to ask and answer either straight out or really they could be answered during a conversation.

I realised I would be able to use these magnificent tools with the people I work with because I was comfortable with having them used on me. They are empowering, help you to realise a lot about your life at present and where you want to go. Also I found it easy to express myself quite frankly without upsetting others.

As the PCT tools fit so well with our strength based approach and philosophy I was eager to put them to work immediately:

My first opportunity was an up and coming meeting that I was really quite nervous both about and for the person I was supporting, because in the past these meetings would go on and on and round and round with no real outcomes. Quite often I would need to be advocating for her most of the time as she wouldn't be heard by her family or boarding lady.

The meeting consisted of  the person I am supporting, her Mum, her Dad and Step mum, her other support person from NC, her coordinator from NC, her boarding lady and needs assessment and funding agency assessor.  It needed to be a much focused meeting and using PCT tool s helped this.

Roll on the 4 + 1 PCT tool.

Love it, love it, love it! I took along the template and introduced it to the group. I also took along the "5 minute no obsessing rule" both from our PCT training days.

Straight away the family got involved positively. One member did so by offering to become the scribe. Conversation was flowing, everyone stayed on subject, and importantly we all talked with one another respectfully and calmly.

Wow…………Everyone was heard, everyone felt included, especially the person I was supporting, most of all everyone focused on achievements and moving forward.

It also helped everyone to reflect on how their support and input had an effect on the person I was supporting there. It let us all find positive outcomes, clear goals and plans.

The person I was supporting left the meeting feeling empowered, heard, and excited about her new ventures, happy with the decisions she made and confident within herself that everyone will realize the importance of their roles in her life.

Quotes from Tiffany when asked how she felt this meeting went compared to all the others in the past:

"Everybody had different opinions and ideas. It was the best meeting I've had so far, no arguing. I felt like an adult and I was listened to, finally!"

"It doesn't feel like I'm stuck on the roundabout going over and over all the same things anymore. I'm ready to jump off and I think my family is too."

"I have recently started flatting in town with my friend. It's AWESOME and WICKED. I am soooooooo HAPPY!"

With talk turning to Australia Day celebrations, Amanda Jones and I got talking about the meaning of the day and this blog was the end result.

As Australia Day swings around again, I find myself thinking about citizenship, inclusion and community, common topics of discussion in disability services and I think, interesting things for Australians to contemplate at this time of year.  For our international readers, Australia Day, the 26^th January, is a public holiday set aside to celebrate the anniversary of the arrival of the First Fleet into Sydney Harbour.  A celebration is an interesting way to mark this date given that for Indigenous Australians, this can be seen as the beginning of a long, bloody and shameful history of oppression imposed by white settlers.  Understandably there is a lot of mixed feeling about this public holiday which some call Invasion Day, others Survival Day, in recognition of the fact that against the odds, aboriginal people and culture has survived to this day.

Australia Day calls for us to have pride in our national identity. While I love Australia and I feel fortunate to live here, there is so much in our history and current reality that I am not proud of.   In the past couple of years the Australian flag has become the subject of great debate, with people questioning whether it is more a symbol of racism than of national pride. Flags are displayed on property and garden gates like Keep Out signs rather than a welcome to our fine land, where diversity should be one of our greatest assets. I'm well aware that this is certainly not the case for everyone. However it feels important to stop and think about what the flag symbolises to different people and whether the meaning may have changed, at least for some groups in our society.  It's curious to think that rather than all meaning all, inclusion often translates to not just who is a part of the group, but rather focuses on who cannot be part of it.  The idea that everyone is entitled to their opinion, even if it hurts someone else, seems to have frightening prevalence in our society at present.

I think it's interesting to consider what Australian citizenship really means, particularly as this is something we're striving to support people with disabilities to achieve. One of the things I do love about Australia Day is the stories captured at the various ceremonies around the country when people are first granted Australian Citizenship.  It makes me quite emotional to hear the varied stories about people's journeys, their pride to call themselves Australian and willingness to embrace this country 'warts and all.'  I'd love to see some ways of recognising events or achievements that mark the point when someone with a disability truly feels like a citizen.  Is it getting a qualification, a job, owning a home, joining a group or club and volunteering, is it voting for the first time? People with disabilities have the right to vote in Australia but depending on their disability, unlike all other citizens they are not legally required to. There has been some great work done to ensure that people have physical access when voting, and also looking at ensuring 'how to vote' information is provided in Easy English formats. These are excellent steps towards getting people with disabilities to the polls, but does it go far enough?

When we reflect on citizenship perhaps we need to look at how it relates to our nation as a whole. So many Australians seem to take the right to vote for granted, when often people fleeing from war and persecution see the simple act of voting as an honourable responsibility and gift. While there are mixed feelings about Australia Day, no one seems concerned about getting a day off work - over the past few days I've seen several excited posts on Facebook from those taking an extra long weekend, and lamentations from those who will be working.  It seems that no matter how much we enjoy our jobs, public holidays are still treasured above work days. Employment being another element of citizenship that is frequently taken for granted.

If we are to talk about people having to balance rights and responsibilities and being a citizen, we need to explore it fully and not just give people certain rights and certain responsibilities as token gestures. A lot of people seem to make uninformed choices and vote without thinking of the consequences- surely, rather than removing the right, responsibility, or even expectation, we should be trying to figure out what support and information people need, in order to contribute their views in a considered way.  Should we be using the donut tool with our government, to help them explore their roles and responsibilities in ensuring as many people as possible, particularly those who are marginalised, are in the best possible position to vote? Could we use a process like Working Together for Change to understand how to represent the views of a broader range of people supported by services, in order to better represent views, at times when the whole population is being asked to contribute to decision making?  Are people supported and encouraged to develop political views? Are they exposed to broad and varied ideas in order to then form their own opinions?

On the Australian government website, it lists the following on what it means to be a citizen: the right to vote, to nominate for government, to work for the government, and to live in Australia and apply for an Australian passport.  My recent read of 'Making it Personal for Everyone' by Steve Scown and Helen Sanderson really got me thinking about how organisations see their responsibilities in relation to supporting typically held views of the rights and responsibilities of citizenship.  "Our work … made us consider whether we should continue with our previous passive approach 'only if they express an interest', or whether we should more positively encourage and support people into some kind of work activity, preferably paid." (pg. 78)

With every Australian state and territory now talking about self directed support (although the language varies from place to place), it seems like a great time for some rigorous explanation of what it really means to be an Australian citizen, and what it takes for people with disabilities to achieve it.  I'd love to hear how different organisations are approaching this, particularly with regards to full opportunities to vote and to work. If you'd like to share what you've tried and learned, please email me at debw@helensandersonassociates.com.au

This month's blog is really just a quick re-cap of 2011 and a sneak peek towards 2012.

We've branched into 2 new states and one territory this year, with work in Western and South Australia and Amanda's conference presentation in the Northern Territory.  One state though has almost become our second home. The work we have done on the new Lifestyle Planning policy with Department of Human Services, Aging, Disability and Home Care (ADHC) in New South Wales has been a significant part of our focus for 2011. We have talked about this in a previous blog and posted a number of comments and pictures on Facebook but I'd like to briefly mention it again this month. The workshops we've delivered in partnership with ADHC have taken an action learning approach to teaching and implementing person centred thinking. While teaching stand alone person centred thinking courses is a lot of fun and we feel confident that there will be some change as a result, these staggered workshops with set tasks in between, have allowed us to really gauge the changes that are taking place. We will continue to work with ADHC in 2012 and will be presenting on the project so far, at the Disability Professionals Victoria conference in March - we look forward to sharing more detailed information with you after that.

In 2012, we will be working together to design a training program that takes the best of the work that we've been doing and look to offer this to other customers around the country. We also plan to design some specific courses, to help those working in Home and Community Care Services in Victoria, to use person centred thinking skills to implement the Active Service Model. We'd love to hear suggestions from you as we design these courses/programs, so please email me with any thoughts you may have - debw@helensandersonassociates.com.au

HSA Australia will be 5 years old in March.  As part of our celebrations we will be doing some reflecting and seeking some feedback from our customers, so please stay tuned for that too.

Finally I'd like to wish all our customers, course participants and colleagues all the very best for the holiday season and leave you with an image of Basil the chocolate lab in reindeer costume - now the 2^nd dog to appear in the HSA Australia blog.

As many people will be aware, about six months ago, my partner and I moved into our brand new house. For the first time since leaving my family home when I was eighteen, I'm in my own home rather than renting. As a young adult, unlike many of my peers, it was always important to me to know my neighbours and to try to make an effort to have at least some small connection.This possibly came from growing up in a very small community where everyone knew everybody else and whilst it could be stifling at times, there was a certain sense of security in it. 

For at least the first few years of living in Melbourne, it felt very strange to me that people could live so close to one another yet not even know one another's names, so I was quite determined that I would not collude with that trend. I'm not sure exactly what happened to that commitment to at least meet and learn the names of my direct neighbours but in the last few years I came to realize I didn't know the people living around me and I really had no connection to my local community. I didn't know what went on there and I wasn't familiar with community groups or services beyond areas of my own specific needs. Given the work I do, I had started to develop a nagging sense of hypocrisy that I could talk about inclusion, connection and building community, while I really wasn't being at all intentional about this in my own life. Since leaving my family home, I have moved around a lot and used that as one excuse but in the lead up to moving into our new house, I could feel growing pressure to start making an effort.

We've been in the new house since the end of May and I've come up with loads of ideas for ways to start connecting, or at least learning what's possible in my new community - finding a book club, joining a singing group, joining a bee keeping club, even writing outraged letters to local papers and the council about the recent demolition of a historic house in the district. Have I done anything about any of these things? Well…no, I have not. 

So, what have I done? I have embarked on the creation of my garden. I am slightly obsessed with gardening and this is my first ever experience of creating a garden from scratch. Having moved into a new area, everyone else is in relatively new homes and they are also trying to figure out what to do with their gardens. While my passion for gardening may not be shared (I look forward to working in the garden, for others it's often a chore), we still have common tasks and are often in the back yard at the same time. The popular 'Neighbours Be Gone' screening plants are not yet well enough established that our synchronized presence in our back yards can go unnoticed, so we at least exchange pleasantries and more recently, frequently end up having quite in depth conversations. From conversations, we have progressed to being guests in one another's homes, swapping phone numbers and helping each other out when the opportunity arises (sounds uncannily like moving from presence to contribution right?).

I realize there is no earth shattering revelation here but I wonder how often we over complicate the means to connection and overlook some of the natural things that help to bring human beings together. Common purpose and actually being present with others as I've described here, is one of these things that could perhaps be reflected on more often. I frequently hear staff talking about connecting via activities and groups. Are people also looking for the opportunities that may simply lie in our back yards and over the fence?

This month's blog is brought to you by Brian Sullivan, a supported living worker in Blenheim, New Zealand, where he works for an agency called Neighbourhood Connections - http://www.tautoko.org.nz/neighbourhood-connections Brian also made a person centred thinking course first for me in bringing his dog Theo along to training (pictured). These are his (Brian's, not the dog's) reflections on person centred thinking training and how he has begun to apply his learning.

I thought the day of PCT (what does that mean?) training would be just like many others I'd been to where the speaker has a pre-set list of slides/overheads/power points which would flash before my eyes in a structured format and be accompanied by a routine spiel, at the end of which someone would do thanks and we would quietly slip away to catchup with our broken day.

Deb Watson changed all that.

The PCT training folder didn't disappear into the bottom drawer for referring to later (yeah right), and the way I thought about my job changed up a gear, (another first) so how did she do it?

By getting me to think about why I liked weetbix, or more precisely what I did every morning as I started my day.

Apparently we're all different.

Some people don't eat weetbix. Imagine that. Some people don't even have breakfast at all!

Following Deb's example of her morning routines I had filled in a form which was headed up 'Brian's Morning Routine' and had then written down a minute by minute list of what I did every morning to start my day.

Just the first hour of my routine.

It covered the basics like shaving, listening to the radio, and of course eating my weetbix.

We all wrote this personal list of our start-up routines and then we swapped them for someone else's in the room and tried to imagine what it would be like to follow their routine.

But most of the others in the room were ladies and the new routine that I got had some very different activities on it.

Like putting my hair up (I don't have enough) going for a run along the river (I hate getting puffed) showering afterwards (I shower at night) but worst of all eating fruit for breakfast.

No weetbix!

You can imagine what the lady I swapped with thought of having to start her day with a shave.

This exercise was one of many tools that we used during the day to change our approach towards the people that we support by making us think what it'd be like if we were in their place.

Other tools were called Learning Logs and what's working/ what's not working (was there a Doughnut too?) but the one that has turned out the most useful to me was called a One Page Profile.

It was broken into several parts on the page and covered all the good things about the person being supported, what was really important to that person and how best to give support.

Today I submitted a One Page Profile for a person who I have supported for many years but who is now needing much more integrated support than I can deliver so a clutch of other agencies are becoming involved.

This will involve sharing what I know of this person's details amongst many other personnel all of whom will need to know the specific and personal characteristics of the person in order to deliver the best support that they can.

The One Page Profile ensures that everyone is working towards the same outcome and the winner is the person, not just the agency or the system.

We will all become Person Centred Thinkers.

When I was a young child, my parents would wait until the very last minute before they told my older brother, Andrew and I about holiday plans and other exciting events. Living with the constantly changing circumstances that go with farming life, I can understand their reasoning - while making plans, they knew that a change on the farm could mean cancelation with only a moment's notice. I guess that plans were kept from us, to spare us the disappointment and upsets that would inevitably follow if things didn't work out, and perhaps to curb our relentless excitement. Counter to their plans, Andrew was a skilled eavesdropper and therefore always knew when there were plans afoot. Once he had even a vague whiff of something exciting happening, he would inform me and swear me to secrecy. We would quietly get excited, loop disguised hints and questions into conversations with Mum and Dad, and frequently have to manage our own secret disappointment when plans changed or we eventually had to accept that perhaps Andrew had misheard.

I often come back to these memories when in conversations about how best to support people, I hear of people who are not told about an exciting event until moments before it happens. Given my own experiences, I can certainly understand the reasons for this, particularly when reactions to disappointment in a service context can lead to far more serious reactions than a few tears and stamping of feet. I also understand that for many people, even very exciting events still constitute change and unpredictability, and therefore can create large amounts of anxiety.  When people have no choice but to rely on services and staff to ensure plans are acted on, it can be more likely that events that are out of the ordinary will be cancelled or may never get organised at all - particularly when people are supported in groups and there may be conflicting priorities. Another side to this of course, is that if no promises are made, no expectations are raised (disappointment avoided), and no one is ever held accountable to the person.

As most of us do, I reached a point where my parents no longer did the organising, and a much broader range of people and events (including my own actions), impacted on whether or not plans came to fruition. Naturally there were disappointments that came with this, and naturally I learnt to deal with them with at least some increases in maturity as I aged.  Having the central role in planning the things that happen in my life, I have a good understanding of why things don't happen, which ultimately helps when I find myself disappointed. In contrast, I react far less sensibly to difficult or disappointing events that are completely outside of my control. 

There are few things that compare to experiencing the buzz of anticipation, or witnessing someone else gripped by a whirlwind of excitement in the lead up to a longed for event - I personally find it incredibly uplifting, and it horrifies me that in the name of good support, so many people in our services are habitually denied this basic human experience. Perhaps I'm oversimplifying the issue, but it seems fairly logical to me, that if people are to live rich and full lives, we must move beyond filling support sections of plans and profiles with statements like "Jackson finds it hard to cope with changes to plans, only tell him about things like holidays, outings and family visits at the last possible moment." Instead I'd like to hear people asking questions like "How can we best support Jackson to enjoy the build up to exciting events? How we best involve him in the planning? How can we support him with his disappointment if things he's been looking forward to don't happen?"

Decision making agreements and profiles feel like helpful tools to start with here, but I'd love to hear what else people are trying and learning in relation to this.

This month's blog is brought to you by Amanda Jones.

Being a self confessed tech geek I love all the trimmings and trappings that the world of technology has to offer. I love that I can find out pretty much anything just by typing the right words into my search engine of choice, I have 8 games of scrabble happening with friends online, and no matter what time day or night I can check Facebook and find out what is happening with friends all over the world. I can Skype my friend in Shanghai, and get a photo message from my Mum of the latest addition to the family. I've witnessed my best friend internet message his partner in another room of the house asking what's for dinner.

I think it is amazing that when it comes to gathering information and planning with people, we can now use Skype, email, Facebook, Twitter, Myspace or even text messages to break down the barriers of time and distance. So many possibilities are open to us but I often wonder if we are paying mindful attention to the pitfalls. I had two self imposed days away from my computer and when I checked my emails this morning there was a message from Facebook noting that I hadn't been on Facebook for a few days and that a lot had happened while I was away. I'd been busy too, but Facebook only cares about it if you post it!

Are we at risk of losing the art of sharing our stories face to face with one another as it becomes so easy to post it in an abridged version to the world? Binary code doesn't do a great job of translating intonation or facial expressions and I haven't found the right emoticon yet for sarcasm. When we have great discussions and share information over the web, how do we make sure that others are not excluded if they do not have the same attachment to their computer/i-pad /phone as some of us do?

Maybe it comes back to some of the things we focus on when developing plans with people. What's the purpose? Who is the audience and what is the best way or method to communicate the message? If we were to pause before texting,  sending the email, posting the status or sending the tweet and ask the question, "Is this the best way to put this information across to others or merely the easiest way?" (not that the two are mutually exclusive). I'm not sure the answer to the first question would always be yes.

Technology can inspire us to start great conversations, create or maintain important connections and put knowledge at our fingertips but how do we make sure that it remains another tool in our communication toolkit and not the only way we communicate with people?

One of my favourite cartoons by Michael Leunig (www.leunig.com.au) shows two men sitting on the curb, one is crying, the other has his arm around the shoulders of the crying man.  Behind the two, there is a street sign saying 'No Understanding Any Time.' A man in uniform stands behind them with a stern look, shaking his finger, poised to write a ticket. The man with his arm around the shoulders of the other looks bewildered. 

I often think of this cartoon when I hear people trying to figure out what to do about the people who are negative, pessimistic, obstructive, and 'just don't get it!' Sometimes I hear this from families about staff, sometimes I hear it from staff about families, from staff about other staff, from managers about staff, and from staff about managers.  It goes in all kinds of directions, there's often  blame and judgement that goes with the conversation.  I remember (and continue to experience) the frustration of working passionately for change only to be confronted by cynicism and a tide of people waiting to be convinced.  In the first Essential Lifestyle Planning course that I attended, I completed the matching exercise, listing the traits of people I like to work with and hang out with, and those of people I don't like to work or hang out with.  My don't like lists were full of words like apathetic, pessimists, and negative, while the like list included words like passionate, creative, energetic, positive, optimistic.  While the words on my lists really haven't changed over the years, particularly in my role as trainer, I have had to find ways to be more effective in working with people who, often to say the very least, really are not convinced. 

The hopes and fears tool has become one of my favourites in helping people to unpick what it is that is preventing them from optimistically pursuing new opportunities for themselves, a family member, or someone they support.  While simple, it is powerful in allowing people the time and space to express the things that are worrying them, alongside the positive things they may be hoping for.  I wonder though if sometimes we forget to really listen to why people have lost hope, or are just not game to hope.  As many of you will be aware, in Person Centred Thinking training we lead people in exercises that require people to put themselves in the shoes of those they support, particularly with regards to people who have endured significant loss of control in day to day life, and are made repeated promises of change, which are rarely honoured. We ask people, 'what would it take to trust again?'  The question can also be reframed to discover what it would take for people to rediscover their optimism when they feel they have been repeatedly let down.

In human services, we're no strangers to the benefits of hope and optimism in pursuing social change, facing challenges and solving problems.  I think sometimes we forget to explore what's going on for people who have lost hope, and fail to look at it with any more depth than, 'hope is good. Be hopeful and everything will be okay.'  It reminds me of calling a phone, power or other such company, furious and frustrated about a service issue, being put on hold and having to endure intolerably cheerful music, as though that alone will magically erase my negativity.

When people have experienced a number of failures, betrayals, losses or any number of negative experiences, the natural response is to begin building up defense mechanisms.  No one wants to feel naïve, in fact most of us prefer to have some kind of shield ready for when disappointment hits.  The challenge of course, is to figure out how to keep the shield in reserve rather than blocking every new experience on the off chance that something bad may happen.  In disability services we are in such danger of being self righteous, and in the process, we can fail to treat people's defenses with the sort of sensitivity that honours the intense disappointments that lead to their construction in the first place.  Very few of us come through life without moments of pain, disappointment and doubt, and times when we lose our hope and optimism.  When we are working with people who feel they have experienced more promises broken than kept, particularly in the face of large scale culture change within organisations, it is all too easy to talk about hope as though it is something people can simply switch on or off when they want to.  If we stop to explore our own experiences of hope lost, we know that it is rarely that simple. We will remember that we needed time, information, the wise counsel of confidants, we need to hear others' stories, we need to tell our own stories (sometimes over and over again), we need to know we are safe to express our fears, and we need to know that if our fears are realised, we will be supported and that we will be able to cope with yet another disappointment. 

For people who have experienced profound and repeated disappointments, the energy needed even for small investments of hope can be huge.  This is explored in The Evolution of Hope and Despair, an article by Randolph M Nesse (Social Research, Vol. 66, No.2 , Summer 1999). Nesse explores the idea that both hope and despair serve a purpose, and dismissing despair as undesirable does not help people to heal and recover their hope.  This all brings me back to the Leunig cartoon, and a need to ensure our teams and services are not displaying the 'No Understanding Any Time' sign, even, and perhaps especially for people who remain negative and resistant to person centred change.