The last few weeks have been breathlessly exciting, stretching and rewarding for me. The biggest of big things, for me, was being an acceptance to study towards a master degree at my alma mater. This week I headed down to Cape Town to begin the first study block of pre-work.
As I entered the lecture theatre twenty years of experience and learning fell away and my whole being was crammed full of the apprehension I last experienced during my first under-graduate lecture. I suppose I could have been pleased with re-experiencing my youth ΓÇô but actually I felt frightened and resentful.
At the front of the room stood the demy-god professor his head literally exploding with brainy thoughts and ideas.
Over the course of the morning two things happened. First, I realised that I already knew the material that was being covered. Second I remembered that my preferred learning style isnΓÇÖt being lectured at ΓÇô I prefer to read, debate, discuss and do. After six hours trying to fit in, I had to admit to myself that the situation just wasnΓÇÖt working for me.
But of course, at the front of the lecture theatre stood a larger than life, super smart lecturer. A man who held the keys to my degree. I couldnΓÇÖt possibly have a conversation about my learning needs with him! Or could I?
Luckily for me the husbandΓÇÖs of coaches often tend to pick up a little coaching language of their own. A five minute, long-distance, mini coaching session had me seeking out the lecturer at lunch time. Guess what he said? ΓÇ£I also wouldnΓÇÖt sit through eight days if I had already covered the content.ΓÇ¥ We negotiated a way for me to get my credit and I packed up my bag and went on my way. It was all a bit of anti-climax.
So whatΓÇÖs the moral of my tale? Maybe itΓÇÖs to ask this: ΓÇ£What needs of yours are going unmet because the person you need to talk to is larger than life and super powerful? What could be possible if you forget their rank for a few minutes and made your request?