Lessons in life from our children

Lessons in life from our children

I was recently regaling a close (and willing!) friend with a few stories of funny things my children have said and done of late. For example, my seven-year-old daughter who loves to read Dog Man has taken to exclaiming “Oh boy, this is gonna be great”, which is hilarious given her cut-glass English accent. I was also recounting how, when my four-year-old son colours, he does so as if his life depends on it: the tongue is sticking out, he can’t keep from standing up on his chair, the concentration is so intense it’s almost audible. “Ah,” sighed my friend, “”We should all be a little more like Sam, I think – so enthusiastic and wholehearted.”

Her words got me thinking. I could definitely do with being a little bit more like my children – in many ways. One day, I will surely need them to teach me how to type a document using only my brainwaves, or to configure whatever we’re using instead of smartphones 20 years from now. The mind reels. But for now, there is already a lot I can learn from them. It may be the adult’s job to teach our children to read, swim and cross the road safely, but we can definitely benefit from taking a leaf out of their wise little books now and then – both in our personal lives and the professional sphere.

Here are my top seven life lessons we can take from children – our own and other people’s!

  1. Live 100%

Despite the fact that I devised my slogan “life with purpose and on purpose” years before having children, it is only since having them that I have witnessed someone truly putting this into practice. When my son is building with Kapla, his focus is absolute. It’s a full-body experience that absorbs all his attention. When my daughter is sewing, you can call her for dinner 10 times before she even looks up. Whatever children do, they do it wholeheartedly. Applying this lesson to my life – seeking out what’s known as “flow” – never fails to improve the quality of my experience. Coaching is already an activity that requires full presence, but when I consciously try to “be more like Sam and Alice”, I seem to take it to another level and am truly absorbed by my client. When I’m writing, turning off the phone and closing email makes it so much more enjoyable. Even if I’m just cooking supper, doing so with music on and a clear intention to nourish and care for my family add both value and fun to the task. In essence, this tip comes down to: be here now.

  1. Ask for what you need and want

If supper is served late, kids have no qualms about manifesting their displeasure. If they need to pee during a train ride, the whole carriage will likely know about it. Children ask for (ok, demand) what they need and are vocal about what they want. I think we’d all benefit from being a little more like this. So often, our resentment, anger and sadness are linked to unspoken needs and desires. Of course, the remedy is not to stamp your foot and throw a hissy fit, but if we all expressed ourselves more, and more clearly, we’d definitely boost our chances of reaching our goals and gaining satisfaction. In the workplace, this might mean making sure the boss knows you aim to achieve director status by the age of 40, or that your long-term goal is to move to the US office. At home, maybe you ask for help with chores, or create a family rota rather than sighing loudly as you fold laundry alone. With friends, it might simply mean daring to say “Actually, tonight I really fancy Thai food” rather than the usual “I really don’t mind where we eat – what’s your preference?”

  1. Own your feelings and show them

When children are sad, they cry. When they are joyful, they laugh. When they are young, at least, there are no feelings that are off-limits or shameful, and demonstrating their inner state comes naturally. As adults, to add insult to the injury of unpleasant emotions like sadness, anger or disappointment, we also experience meta-emotions. We have feelings about the feelings we are having, for example feeling ashamed of being lonely, or irritated that we feel envious, and we force ourselves to hide what we’re going through. We could all benefit from allowing ourselves to feel what we feel, without judgement and – when appropriate – to express it too. One way to facilitate this in the workplace might be for managers to be more vocal about their own emotions – perhaps frustration at a budget cut, or overwhelm at an extra project the team has been assigned. When they do this, they give their team permission to feel and share some of what they are experiencing too.

  1. Marvel and wonder

On the walk to school, my children are able to find way more than seven wonders of the natural world that will cause them to stop and exclaim, “Mummy, LOOK!” These marvellous findings might range from the grid patterns made by airplanes as they crisscross the sky to particularly large snails and solitary magpies (“Hello Mr Magpie and how’s your lady wife today?” they chorus). Despite my best adult instincts, I have now learnt to embrace these moments and seize the opportunity to look hard at what’s going on around me. To notice the carpet of conkers, kick up the russet leaves, smell the jasmine bush overflowing from one front garden on our route, laugh at the mini dog wearing a Father Christmas coat. The walk takes a little longer, surely, but it is a richer sensory experience, and the day starts on a note of enchantment and delight.

  1. Enjoy the journey

Further mining the rich seam of learning that is the school run (or the slow school walk in our case)… My children’s appreciation of our conversation and the things we notice on the way to school serves as a constant reminder to me that the journey is part of the adventure. This is fairly easy to keep in mind when your destination is a beach in Hawaii, but more challenging during a business trip. However, when on my way to coaching clients in Toulouse, Geneva or Lyon, I always try to make the most of the travel time, which could otherwise seem like dead time. Flights are a chance to read. Train trips with my computer give me time to write. Even a simple trip on the Paris metro can provide opportunities to check out posters for new films and exhibitions, notice changes in fashions, and (more often that you might imagine) observe random acts of courtesy and kindness performed for strangers.

  1. Put yourself centre stage

Have you ever noticed how often children say “I” and “me”? They are constantly talking about themselves – what they think, like, want, need… When they are recounting something that happened at school, they are very definitely the main character. If they are deciding between the pink sparkly t-shirt and the multi-coloured unicorn, the only taste they take into account is their own. Children live their lives centre stage, eschewing the kind of comparison with others that plagues us as adults and causes us to “should” on ourselves. All too often, we pay more attention to what others are wearing, doing, buying, achieving, than what we like, want and need. We can learn much from children’s ability to be the focus of their own attention.

  1. Let it go

As adults, we hold on to so much emotion and carry around so much baggage, thinking today about what happened yesterday, last month, last year, or a decade ago. Children, on the other hand, make like Elsa and just let it go. When the school day is over, it is over. When a Mr Hyde-level tantrum has been calmed, they switch back to their Dr Jekyll face in seconds. This ability to let things go is invaluable to our professional lives. Too often, we ruminate on a conversation with the boss, or mull over an upcoming presentation when we should be focusing on a hobby, a friend or our family. The more we can learn to leave the day behind when we walk out of the office (or clear the computer from the dining table/home office), the more we can contain our worktime and be present for our personal time.


Do you wince whenever you hear someone described as “living his best life” or “winning at life”, conscious that you don’t feel that is the case for you? Do you feel, deep down, that while life is fine, it could be so much more fulfilling and joyful? Working with a supportive, dynamic and insightful coach can help you make the big and small changes you need to ensure you enjoy a life and career built with purpose and on purpose. Contact me to find out how we can work together.

Watch your words: redefining bad language

Watch your words: redefining bad language

I have never really been much of a swearer. When I was growing up, my mother drilled it into me that swearing is a lazy form of self-expression. She encouraged me to choose my words more carefully, often with more devastating effect than any S- or F-bomb could ever achieve. So, while my French husband constantly has to bite back the “merde!” and “putain!” that pervade French speech, it’s never been hard for me to watch my language around the children. And that’s one less thing to worry about in the pool of anxiety that is parenthood, plus I get to feel all smug when he slips up and receives shocked glances from the kids and whispers of “Naughty Papa said the P word!”

I am, however, horribly guilty of using bad language of another kind. Firstly, I complain: “My back hurts. There’s so much washing to do. It’s raining again”. I use negative self-talk at times: “Oh heck, I look ancient this morning!” And I criticise: “For heaven’s sake, could the checkout go any slower?” (imagine that with a Chandler Bing-style intonation). Now, I don’t do this all the time, but I do it more often than I care for, and it happens in front of the children. I doubt I’m alone here. Using these kinds of negative speech is so common, I bet many of us don’t even notice it. But I did recently. I had a sort of out-of-body moment as I truly heard myself doing all three and realised I have less to feel smug about than I thought. Because just as I don’t want to hear my children effing and blinding, nor do I want them to become complaining, self-insulting and critical.

When searching for wisdom, always look to musical theatre

There’s a lyric in Stephen Sondheim’s Into the Woods that warns, “Careful the things you say –
Children will listen; Careful the things you do – Children will see, And learn…” Ever since my Damascene moment, I’ve had that song playing in my head on a loop. Because it’s true. Every time I complain I have too much to do and not enough time, my son is listening and learning that life is about lack and rushing. Every time I make an offhand remark about feeling like a hog after a large lunch, my daughter hears me and learns that food and indulgence lead to guilt and recriminations. When I criticise, the kids are absorbing the message that when life isn’t as we would like, the right response is to get annoyed and assign blame.

The medium is the message

It rather goes without saying that none of this is what I want to teach my children. But the message they receive when I use these three types of communication – complaining, negative self-talk and criticising – is that they are acceptable, normal and perhaps even useful. But we all know they’re not. All three backfire on the user! Complaining about tiredness doesn’t make you less tired. Insulting a wobbly tummy doesn’t make it shrink. And criticising others doesn’t make them more competent. In fact, these three acts all actually make the situation worse. I feel even more tired when I bang on about how little sleep I got. Berating myself for double helpings of pudding brings me down and probably leads to my raiding the biscuit barrel for comfort. Criticising others just makes me feel like a mean-spirited cow.

Changing the record

So what’s to be done? How can I – we – change? Well, there is the swear jar option. If you’re really far gone, a euro/pound/dollar in the pot every time you use negative talk might even let you upgrade your car by Christmas. I think it really all starts with mindfulness, though. Noticing what you’re saying (and how you’re saying it) and choosing the words you use and sentiments you express with care. Enlisting a family member to help you do this is a good idea, but really it has to come from within. Mindful speech is a fundamental part of mindful living because the way we describe the world, how we name it and put it into words directly influences how we perceive it, how we feel about it, and our actions in it.

This doesn’t mean we have to deny the fact that we’re tired, or that the post office clerk is slow or that eating too much has left us feeling bloated. It simply means choosing more carefully the way we frame the expression of these feelings to make it productive, or at least not harmful – to us and our children. So, “I’m tired. Hmmm… I’m sure I’ll feel less so after a cup of tea”. “Wow, I feel so full after that lunch – salad for dinner for me, I think”. “Gosh, this line is moving slowly – well, it gives me time to reply to some text messages”.

There is so much in life that we cannot influence or choose. What we say and how we say it are two things over which we have total control. I plan to exercise that control more mindfully in the future – both for my own happiness and to ensure my children are receiving messages I’m proud to send.


If you’d like to change some behaviours and attitudes that are holding you back from living life to the full and with joy, energetic and supportive coaching that focuses on making the right changes for you can help you achieve the mental shift you require. Contact me for your free introductory coaching session to find out how working together can help you build a life lived with purpose and on purpose.

Back to school: rocking the rentrée like a français

Back to school: rocking the rentrée like a français

This September, I am celebrating the 18th anniversary of life in France. Since my arrival with one suitcase, a seven-month teaching contract, and a tiny room in a sort of Parisian YWCA, my life has undergone numerous metamorphoses. These days, there’s a husband, a house, two kids, good friends, a business, citizenship, and a much greater appreciation and understanding of the country I now call home!

In the nearly two decades I have lived here, I have learnt so much. However, contrary to what popular Francophile literature and TV shows would have you believe, the most useful things I have picked up from the French way of life are not the correct way to wear a scarf or which wine to match with a given cheese. The French lifestyle has taught me much, for example, about work-life balance, the importance of enjoying simple pleasures, the benefits of slowing down, and the wisdom of prioritising quality over quantity. Currently on my mind is the particular (peculiar?) manner by which French structure their year and the ways it makes life easier and more satisfying.

The Franco-Gregorian calendar: a hybrid approach

The calendar starts in January in France, but in all other respects, the year really begins in September here – and not just for schools and universities. After the long summer holiday that marks the end of the last ‘year’, the word on everyone’s lips in September is la rentrée, meaning “the re-entry”; as in going back – to school, to work, to activities, to normal life. I struggled against this notion for many years – I wanted to start classes mid-year, join a gym in February and pay pro rata, launch projects in April, and actually achieve – well, anything – in August (sheer madness!). However, once I finally stopped swimming upstream and embraced this way of thinking, I was struck, as I often have been, by the wisdom of the French way.

Taking a French approach to your rentrée can make life easier, more satisfying and more relaxing – wherever you happen to live. Why? And How?   

  1. The rentrée is a propitious time to make resolutions

Our minds tend to turn to self-improvement, changing habits and fresh starts in January, but September is, in my experience, a much more appropriate time to implement some life upgrades. In January, we are often run down by the winter cold and illness*, and exhausted from the Christmas whirlwind. In September, however, we’re fresh and relaxed after the summer break. We’ve recharged our batteries and have the energy to begin new projects and change our ways.

  1. It’s a natural launch date

Speaking of projects. Even if you don’t have children, you can piggy-back on the momentum created by lots of kids sharpening pencils and going back to school to launch your own projects. That might be taking up a new hobby, signing up for adult education classes, or starting to write your novel. Whatever you choose to do, the fact that the nights are going to start drawing in and the days get colder can also help you prioritise these kinds of projects that require time spent in the home.

  1. It forces you change pace and stay with the season

The change of pace from summer fun to serious work in the autumn is just one example of the ebb and flow that characterises the French year. As they wave their kids off to school in September, the French immediately start planning their late October mini-break. By scheduling in – even ritualising – their holidays, the French ensure they change pace and take breaks regularly – before they’re on their last legs.

  1. The French find the joy in what is

In my experience, the French are very good at accepting and reaping the benefits of the season in progress. Take food as an example: the French quite consciously change the way they eat throughout the year. Winter is welcomed because it brings with it a promise of fondu and raclette, mulled wine and seafood; summer is all about rosé, fresh fruit and drinks at pavement cafés. The rentrée reminds us to embrace the seasons mindfully – reassessing eating habits and looking at sleep routines, the quantity of social commitments we take on, cosmetics used, maybe even the books we read.

  1. The rentrée serves as a great yearly reminder

I use the rentrée as a reminder to do a certain number of chores (the kind that occur yearly or a few times per year). The whole family has their annual appointment with the dentist; I get my eyes checked; the kids have haircuts and new shoes. These preparatory rituals of the rentrée all contribute to my feeling ready in September and raring to go. Which in turn helps me make the most of my time and get moving quickly as opposed to spending a week (more?!) lamenting the end of the holidays and wishing I were somewhere else.

Be here, now

Ultimately, that’s what the French obsession with la rentrée means to me: it’s a way of enjoying the “be here, now”.  The summer is coming to a close, the holidays are ending, and that’s natural, normal. Do you know the song “To everything there is a season”? It’s the one with the “Turn, turn, turn” refrain. It’s based on a Bible verse (for the 40-something women like me reading this, it’s the one Kevin Bacon uses to convince the preacher in Footloose to let the kids dance): “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, a time to reap that which is planted…”.

Whatever your religious conviction, the notion that there’s a time for everything is helpful. To me, the rentrée is a yearly reminder not to try to do everything at once, to pace myself and undertake activities mindfully and at a time that is appropriate. I find that way of thinking takes the pressure off and offers me useful perspective – which is needed all year round!

*Apologies to readers in the southern hemisphere – some of what I am going to say will not apply directly but can be adapted to apply to your own post-summer rentrée in March…


If you’re seeking perspective and structure for your life, perhaps looking to make some changes this rentrée, supportive coaching that focuses on finding your pace and what’s right for you can help you create a life you love. Contact me for your free introductory coaching session to find out how working together can help you build a life lived with purpose and on purpose.

Enjoying time with your kids more

Enjoying time with your kids more

1. Concentrate
Nothing ruins time with my kids more than when I attempt to multi-task. They hate it when it’s “their time” and I am not giving them my attention; and, once they are off at school or in bed, I always regret when I wasn’t 100% present during the time we had together. Managing their dinnertime, for example, can be a fun moment to chat and talk about their day, but it is spoilt when my attention is split and I leave the table to hang up laundry, answer a quick email, or take out rubbish. In general, weekday time slots with the kids are short and precious. Make them the true focus of that time and it will be more enjoyable for everyone.

2. Disconnect
Don’t let technology pull focus. Of all the things that compete for my attention when I’m with the children, the most insidious and unrelenting is the smartphone. In the evening, put your phone on silent, stick it in a drawer or – whisper it – turn it off, to ensure you give your undivided attention to the people who are actually in the room. In most cases, your colleague won’t remember that she went to voicemail and you called her back later. Your friend won’t even notice that an hour elapsed between her text and your reply. But your kids will definitely be aware of how you made them feel during the golden hours between school ending and bedtime – seen and heard and important, or like they play second fiddle to your Android.

3. Flow
Try to get into it. Sometimes finding the strength and patience to make yet another Kapla tower or play an umpteenth game of Connect-4 it can feel like a superhuman act of will. In those moments, it sometimes helps to get genuinely super-enthusiastic – even if it’s just pretence at first. Get serious about winning the game, make your structure look like the Eiffel Tower, mix and match toys to create new ways of playing (my kids like making a massive “village” by combining the train set with the toy cars and the Playmobil saloon and farm). If you can find some true kid-like enthusiasm you might just tap into that Holy Grail of feelings: flow – that sense of being in the moment, connected and committed to what you’re doing. If you can hit that spot, everyone will have more fun and time will fly.

Hope springs eternal

Hope springs eternal

Of late, my family has been enjoying our first small but successful crop of tulips, grape hyacinths and narcissi. They have provided a joyful burst of colour in some slightly bare patches of the garden and offered a much-needed springtime boost while the rest of our plants take their time unfurling and emerging. Whilst we were taking our morning tea outside recently (yes, I binged on Bridgerton during the latest lockdown and have decided that I no longer drink but “take” my tea), my husband commented that he had no recollection of me planting those bulbs. “Of course not,” I answered, “I did it way back in October just after we pruned everything else back”.  

Planting bulbs is a funny thing to do, isn’t it? Just as the rest of the garden is shedding leaves and retreating for the winter, it’s time to plant bulbs that will sit in the frozen ground for months before pushing their way up to the light almost half a year later. It’s actually an incredible metaphor for hope. We put these vulnerable little plants in the ground as the weather – and sometimes our mood – begins to feel bleak, in the hope that, come spring, they will flourish – daffodils trumpeting triumphant over the dark days; the crocus bursting forth to celebrate renewal and rebirth.

All about the now

Our enjoyment of the long-awaited patches of colour provided by spring flowers is particularly relevant today, in a society where instant gratification has become the norm. I recently ordered a coat stand for our entranceway and was shocked – outraged! – appalled! to discover we would have to wait four whole weeks for delivery. Meanwhile, the foot rest I bought for my desk arrived in just 48 hours. Now, that’s more like it, I thought to myself. But that kind of quick fix, no-sooner-thought-than-bought, make the call – get it done result is so rarely how life works. In my experience, more often than not, the real rewards we reap in our lives come from the tiny seeds we planted months, maybe years ago, in the hope that one day they would bear fruit.

Playing the long game

Online shopping notwithstanding, very few of the actions we implement in our lives are immediately rewarding. Not only do most of them require some degree of patience, but many also depend on repetition and consistency. My choice of a salad over a burger this evening will not register on the scales tomorrow morning. But making that choice consistently, day after day, will result in weight loss over time. The same can be said for the efforts of parenting. Taking the time to foster a love of reading in your child, teach them about different religions, or let them help with household chores (even when it actually slows you down) can often feel like a drop in the ocean and you sometimes wonder how much is really going in. But wait a while, and you’ll see that all those choices have planted seeds that will grow into trees of literacy, tolerance, and a sense of responsibility.

Four years ago I spoke at a conference on self-care and wellbeing. I came home and told my husband, “Well, that was fun, but I don’t know if anything with come of it”. Nothing much did, really, until a month ago when a man I met that day contacted me to start coaching sessions as he finally felt ready to start working towards a more fulfilling life. Now, that’s a real example of playing the long game!

You gotta have faith

I have to admit that I had to – as the French characteristically dramatically put it – me faire violence (do violence to myself) when I decided to plant those bulbs last autumn. I really had to force myself. It was cold, I was lockdown-weary, and I wasn’t convinced the on-sale bulbs I’d bought looked that healthy and would actually sprout at all. But now, as I sit in the garden surrounded by flaming red tulips and nodding narcissi, I am so pleased I found some motivation that day, even when I felt the result was uncertain. Looking at them reminds me that often in life, we have to take action and just have faith that – maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow (and maybe not even soon or for the rest of our lives)  – but that at some point what we do will pay off. Because the explanation for a successful, fulfilling life is the same as for a colourful, flower-filled garden: it’s blooming because I planted the seeds necessary to make it that way.`


If you’re looking to re-landscape your life, plant the seeds of some life changes, or maybe pull out a few old weeds that are holding you back, coaching can help you target your actions and accelerate change. Contact me for your free introductory coaching session to find out how working together can help you build a life lived with purpose and on purpose.