The Happiness Conference was a timely reminder of the rewards gained from the small things in life. We are often so intent on achieving the big ‘milestones’ in life that we forget the simple pleasures along the way.

Mark and I are creatures of habit. Because we work in the evenings we usually start each day with an early walk, which more often than not leads to a coffee. This morning ritual is definitely one of my simple pleasures, but the conference prompted me to consider the individual parts of the walk.

Mark, tick; yes, he does make me smile and being with him for the walk certainly makes it complete. Beach, tick; I love the sound of the waves crashing on the sand and the way the scene changes, sometimes subtly, every day. Sun, mostly tick, although the wind and rain have recently been testing my patience and taking the happiness score back down!

Apart from my husband, the biggest tick by far, is Meg, our miniature Labradoodle. 9Kgs soaking wet, and sporting a wool coat that never sheds, she is the ‘huggiest’ (I’m allowed to make up words!) thing ever, squeezing in to even the smallest corners of our lives. And, yes, she does make me smile.

Her needs are simple; walk, eat, sleep, poop, often in that order. She is the princess of the house (don’t’ forget we don’t have children); rarely told off, thinks every chair, both sofas and both beds, are sleeping areas reserved for her, and demands licking rights on any plate of food that we have dared to leave unfinished.

In return, she wags her tail. That’s it really. Oh yes, she is extremely ‘huggable’ (yep, another made up one, so there!), makes no fuss, barks very little and is great with kids, but her tail wagging is by far her major achievement.

It doesn’t matter how dark or wet it is, how little I slept the night before, or how busy the day ahead will be, when Meg hits the beach, her simple pleasure translates into this amazing, constant, metronome tail wagging, and the corners of my mouth automatically curl up. I can’t help it, this mad little puppy just makes both of us smile and we both feel better for it.

So, the point is that it can be the simple things in life, often the things that we take for granted, that can have the greatest impact on our wellbeing. It is something that we always try to remember in the centre. Whether they realise it or not, kids are affected by the simple things. Which is why we encourage a little bit of madness (well, actually, Mark doesn’t need encouraging!), and reward and praise instead of noting mistakes. We want learning to be a simple pleasure, to see the metaphoric ‘wagging tails’ in the room as the kids achieve. I want those unconscious smiles associated with learning.

Try it at home.  Use a bit of positive reinforcement, praise the things they get right and try ignoring the errors.  We want wagging tails at home too!  

This week I have been getting closer to my inner self. No, I have not entered a hippy commune, but I have joined hundreds of other like-minded people at the annual Happiness Conference in Melbourne. Not as off-the-wall as it perhaps sounds, the conference brings together speakers from around the globe to share their surprisingly practical tips for maintaining our equilibriums.

But happiness is not in fact my theme for this week. What struck me again throughout this week, apart from the resonating themes of health, happiness and well-being that formed the core of most of the presentations, is the immense power of language to convey meaning.

Imagine nearly 2,000 people captivated by the words of one man. Granted, this man was His Holiness the Dalai Lama, and warrants our attention almost by default, but where would he be without his carefully chosen words? They are his stock and trade, the means by which he engages with the world, shares the plight of his people and passes on his wisdom (his laugh does help though, it is mesmerising and will absolutely make you smile every time).

Although perhaps the most significant orator of the week, he was by no means the only one, as presenter after presenter breathed life in to their ideas through the power of language. What an amazing thing it is, this ability, unique amongst all living things on this planet, to share thoughts and ideas by linking different sounds together.

But more than that, we can also convert these sounds in to symbols, again linking them together in patterns that mean something to others. Inspired by a number of speakers, I purchased their books. You would expect that removing voice and expression from the content would somehow lessen the impact, but in fact these qualities are somehow replaced by other elements, not least the ability of the written word to inspire imagination. When reading silently, the words themselves somehow become only one part of the story, the rest of which is supplied by our minds; the characters, landscapes, even the weather, somehow taking their cue from the words but becoming so much more.

This is why, in my role as a tutor to the speakers and writers of the next generation, I encourage them to think beyond the simple structure of the words and instead consider how they come to life when presented in a certain way. Texting, blogs, computer games, and all other manner of minimised communication, add nothing to the expression that language is capable of. Please don’t misunderstand me, they have their place, as effective tools for the quick transmission of fact, but they do not take full advantage of the written words ability to inspire, persuade and engage.

I recently watched a news story about a technology-rich school in Singapore that has replaced writing skills with a focus on technology, the theory being that the latter will have more value in five years’ time as the students enter the workforce. Perhaps, but in the absence of persuasive writing skills, how will the leaders of the future inspire their followers? How will the writers of the future create those worlds of the imagination in our heads?
 
There must still be a place in education for our languages to grow and develop, as they have for thousands of years, since long before Shakespeare, and ever since. Opposable thumbs are certainly an obvious physical characteristic of humanity, but I would argue that our ability to think beyond our present state, to use words to create ideas and stories that resonate far beyond the symbols on the page, is an equally defining characteristic of our humanity.

Hmmm, a slightly heavier tone this week. You can probably tell that language is a passion of mine, one that I am not willing to sacrifice to the efficiency of technology, and one that I believe is fundamentally important for your children. So please, encourage them to read, discuss with them what they read, help them to understand how important those little symbols on the page are and how necessary it is for them to be able to understand and use them. Till next time, happy reading! 

A more serious tone this week I’m afraid. Don’t worry, more humour to follow, but sometimes I have to put on my ‘sensible adult’ hat. So please read on and hopefully you will find some value in my ramblings.

This week, for the first time, we were forced to cancel an evening of lessons when an accident on a main road nearby robbed us of power. The electricity company couldn’t guarantee that we would have power back that evening, and, even though we would have been able to continue lessons with paper-based activities, without lights it was simply not safe to have children moving around the centre.

So, Mark and I made the tough decision to close for the night, and immediately started contacting parents by phone, text and email, to let them know what had happened and confirm how they would like to proceed. We told them that, as we were cancelling the lessons, they would be not be charged, but offered them the option of an at-home online lesson at a reduced cost.

We were pleased and a little surprised when the vast majority of parents took up the option of an online lesson. This response confirmed to us that what we do, tutoring young minds to help them achieve their best, has value to parents and is not just a ‘tick box’ exercise. The questions they asked, about how the lessons would be designed, what support they needed to provide, when the lessons would be ‘live’ and when would be best to complete them, was clear evidence that these parents are engaged with the learning process in a way that we hope but are never entirely sure happens.

This ‘partnership’ between tutor, child and parent, is so important to the success of our tutoring system. Without it, children struggle to maintain focus and get the best out of the process. An obvious example is the homework we assign, which is an important reinforcement of the learning process, but easily lost amongst school work, sports and other activities, unless children are gently urged to complete it by parents.

Less obvious is parent’s awareness of their children’s progress with us. Tutoring is easily accessible for parents. There is no need to wait for parent-teacher meetings, as every session is an opportunity for a quick chat with us (admittedly in the midst of changeover chaos!) and children can immediately share their results on the computer screen.

This intimate ‘hands on’ approach encourages parents to get directly involved in their children’s progress, and often helps us to understand children better. When this extends to homework activities, the result is invariably improved results. Do parents need to be able to understand senior algebra in order to help them? No, but they do need to be aware of their child’s progress, provide an environment that is conducive to learning and encourage them with positive reinforcement when they succeed.

This is why we were so pleased by parent’s response to the centre closure. It clearly demonstrated an engagement with their children’s learning that we hoped was happening but so seldom see evidence of. Was it worth the ‘investment’ of an evening’s revenue to find this out? Actually, it probably was and has added another layer of the good feeling we both have towards our little centre. So, thank you parents, you have helped to confirm again why what we do is so worthwhile.

I will be the first to admit that exercise is not my thing. In fact, I abhor anything that makes me move faster than a quiet stroll for a coffee. So imagine my shock and surprise when I found myself climbing off a treadmill with a flashing timer confirming that I had completed 30 minutes of continuous fast walking!

Had I experienced a blackout, or perhaps dramatically exceeded my daily caffeine intake? No, it was in fact all due to the new man in my life. With many apologies to my loving husband, I have to say that he is the most exciting exercise-related thing that has ever happened to me. Oh Richard, how did I reach my 40s without experiencing your talents?

Before you rush to the nearest group of water cooler gossips to share the news of my torrid affair, I should let you know that the man in question is Sir Richard Branson, and it is only his voice that has excited me, via the wonders of an audio book. In my opinion these little digital holidays are perhaps the single greatest piece of exercise equipment ever invented; I am barely aware of my fast moving legs beneath me as I roar with laughter over and over at the young Branson’s adventures. How has one man managed to pack so much in to his life?

 http://www.booktopia.com.au/losing-my-virginity-sir-richard-branson/prod9780307720740.html

This was actually the second time that Sir Branson had raised my pulse. Many years ago I had the pleasure of sharing a stage with him, singing alongside several of his ‘hosties’ as he launched a new product range. So as you can see, we have a special and enduring bond.

All of which brings me to my topic for this blog, persistence. No, I am not referring to my energetic endeavours after a life of slower motion, but instead the amazing perseverance of Mr Branson, who, despite being dyslexic, has managed to create a global brand so familiar that we all forget that its name is a little bit rude (or maybe it’s just the little Catholic school girl I once was!).

Both of a good friend’s sons are also dyslexic, and both regard Richard as a hero for his refusal to accept it as a limitation. In fact, one of her proud sons read his book as part of his Year 12 studies.

Many of the children that Mark and I and our team work with have challenges to deal with, be they physical, mental or emotional, but we refuse to let them define themselves or limit themselves because of these factors. And to their credit, most of our lovely kids excel, perhaps partly because there is no one to tell them that they can’t. I do also believe that providing an environment where they can learn individually and at their own pace does help.

Persistence is an intangible thing, but the results are so obvious it amazes me that we don’t all, as parents, teachers and tutors, spend more conscious thought on encouraging it in children. The student who tries long subtraction for the first time, and fails, and then tries again, and fails again, but finally, after several attempts, succeeds. How much better does that success feel to them because they triumphed over adversity?

James Dyson apparently built more than 7,000 failed vacuums on the way to success. Now that is persistence. And what was his reward? Yes, a sizeable estate and a house that the Queen would feel at home in, but I would be willing to bet that his most valuable possession is his sense of achievement.

So when you are parenting, teaching, or mentoring a child, think about my friends Richard and James, and encourage that child to practice persistence and make as many mistakes as it takes to reach their goal. The rewards will be so much greater.