2 PIP stories – The power of being heard

I’m back at my desk to share the latest on the PIP stories front.  I want to share with you some of the behind the scenes mechanics and a bit of an update.

Broadly speaking, there are two areas of focus at the moment.  The first is to continue with the analysis of the accounts that have been received so far and the second is to continue to raise awareness about what is being done and why to continue to grow the number of accounts received.  The current number is a little over 500, so to reach the 600 mark is the next goal.

This is a great number, but it is important not to stop there.  With each account of the PIP process that comes in, the depth of the sample grows and with it the robustness of any emergent themes from the sample.  Each PIP story really matters.

Behind the scenes

So Chris, what happens when you recieve a PIP story?  The first thing that I do is to read it as soon as I can.  The reason for this is that in a small number of instances people report feeling low in their accounts, so there is a process in place for this to help ensure that people are kept safe.

After an initial read through, the stories are electronically filed and then copied in to Word on an anonymised basis.  A separate file with a numbering system to link back to the individual accounts is used if individuals need to be contacted in future.  Everyone who has sent in a PIP story is sent an information sheet.

From there, the stories are copied into a piece of software that helps me ‘code’ the information.  This process of coding is basically about grouping key themes or ideas that are evident in the stories that are received.  Each story is carefully read and re read to make sure that this is done accurately and consistently.  This is work that needs to be completed with attention to detail and takes time to complete.  It also takes computer power – so much so that I have bought a new one to help me with this so that this work can be completed efficiently and not waiting around for the computer to keep up.

Writing about the themes that are emerging from the coding is also an important part of the process.  Because I am at a relatively early stage in the coding process, it is too soon to be able to share some of the key themes, but that will happen as progress is made.

The power of being heard

In a few instances people have (very kindly) got in touch to see how they could help, and I’ve reached out to some of the people who have written in.  One of the things that has struck me about this process is its human element.  I think from the feedback I have had, that I am listening to a process that we have all been through in one form or another is one of the things that has resonated with people.

In many cases, people have just valued being heard, and have felt empowered by the ability to tell their story, in a process that they have felt has otherwise been ‘done to’ them, stripping them of the power and agency that they strive for in other parts of their lives.

My key messages on this would be two fold:

  1. I hear you.  I am doing this to help make sure voices are heard – and I will strive to make changes as a result.  I can’t promise I will, and it won’t happen overnight – but it won’t be for want of trying!
  2. The PIP process does not define you and who you are. It is important to hold on to that.  At times, I felt unrecognisable as a result of the process.  Hold on to who you are in the widest possible sense

I have not set a deadline on the collection of accounts on the PIP process as I have previously explained.  I will be here to listen as long as you want to share your stories.  There is, of course, no pressure to do so, and your own wellbeing comes first, but if you feel able to do so, I’ll be glad to have it.

Keeping myself safe

As you may imagine, reading accounts of the PIP process can have an impact.  For me, I used this in a positive way, as each account I receive reminds me of why this work is needed, and why change matters.

I have also put measures in place to make sure I can keep my own wellbeing in place.  This is something I which I think isn’t talked about often enough, but it matters too.  To help me to keep doing this work, I have put in place a debriefing arrangement with a trained professional.

Thanks for all your continued support.  Remember you can give your PIP story here: PIP stories.

 

4 PIP stories – initial reflections

As I sit here at my desk, I write this blog to reflect on the first couple of weeks of collecting PIP stories, in order to give some wider context to what is being done and why.

The background to the call for PIP stories

I started the call for stories in response to a message I received, telling me about an assessment where someone was asked to simulate what they would need to do to wipe their bottom.  I found this shocking, the antithesis to what an assessment process where people should be treated with decency and respect.  This example caused me to wonder whether there were other stories out there to be told.

From my own experiences of the PIP assessment process, I knew that each stage of the claim could pose its stresses.  I was also keen to be able to identify constructive solutions to identify where improvements could be made to the process and highlight good practice.  This remains the case.

This, for me, is also not a political issue. It is much bigger than that. Consensus is required across the board.  There are fundamental basics that need to be in place in order to ensure that everyone can get treated in a way that retains their dignity, and allows them to be heard in a way that is accessible.

The initial response

I have been humbled and amazed by the response to the call for stories.  The opportunity for people to give their stories has clearly resonated with many.  What is clear is that the PIP process is a very live issue for people, and that the PIP experience is one which stays with them.

There was a lot of thought that went into the methodology.  It was really important to me that people had the time and space to tell their stories in their own way.  I also deliberately allowed people to tell their stories anonymously as I know that this can allow people the distance that they need to give their account.  I have also set out to be accessible in my approach, offering support for individuals to reach out if they need to give their story in an alternative way.  It is essential that an effort like this one is inclusive and allows the full range of voices to be captured.

I also recognise that not everyone is able to tell their story, or needs time to do so.  This is something I entirely respect and relate to.  It is for this reason that there is no ‘closing date’ by which people may feel compelled to tell their story before losing the opportunity to do so.

Further, I understand the questions that people may have about me, and why I am doing this.  I have adopted an open approach, and will continue to do so.  Behind the scenes, I have had many conversations across the broad church that is the disability space in an effort to achieve consensus.

What next?

The PIP stories page will remain open and we will keep sharing it.  If you feel able to do so, all accounts of the PIP process are welcomed.  I’ll also be writing to the people who have responded to date.  Unfortunately I can’t give advice on individual cases, but I can signpost to those who may be able to do so.

Beyond that, I have started to analyse the data so that themes that are emerging from it can be identified.  Raising continued awareness of peoples experiences is an important part of this process, especially as it is still a live issue for so many.

Lastly, I want to thank you for sharing your stories, and for the interest, support and encouragement offered by numerous people, which is hugely appreciated.  Whilst this isn’t an easy thing to do, I hope it will be a worthwhile effort to call for positive change.

If you wish to, you can give your account of the PIP process here.

A Life Without Limits – A Review

A Life Without Limits tells the story of the extraordinary life and times of Sir Bert Massie.  The book provides a chronology of his experiences, commencing in humble circumstances in Liverpool.  Reference to the importance of family is one of the constant themes throughout this book, and there is a very real sense that this is one of the things which kept Sir Bert grounded.

 

We then follow Sir Bert’s progress through the educational system, from his early days in Greenbank onwards.  One of the interesting features of these stories is the progressive feel to the experiences being outlined.  This is particularly the case when set against contemporary debates around current Special Educational Needs and Disability Provision, and the difficulties experienced by many parents around equitable access to services to meet the needs of their children.

 

These stories reminded me of the importance of a good education, and its capacity to act as a springboard (and its corresponding absence as a large potential barrier) to peoples life prospects.  Via recounting his formative years, Sir Bert also affords the reader a glimpse into the emergent character traits that would serve him so well throughout his adult life, particularly including his sense of humour, tenacity and perceptiveness regarding the world around him.  The ability to inject a sense of presence into the way Sir Bert tells his life story is one of the features of this book which make it an entertaining and informative read.  I found myself making the way through his account with real ease as a result of its engaging and warm style.

 

At various points in the book, I was also struck at how there seemed to be more assistance available to Sir Bert as he progressed through his life than arguably is available today.  Having access to employment opportunities through provisions such as the Disabled Persons (Employment) Act of 1944 is a good example. I found myself thinking that such measures had a very progressive feel to them as compared to the current challenges posed by austerity and welfare reform.

 

In learning about the aspects of Sir Bert’s life as he traces his way into the world of motoring via the Invacar and progression through the education system and then success in the workplace, the book also demonstrates a further feature of its value.  It is in some ways a history of disability social policy and the disability rights movement as told through the eyes of one person who played a key part of it.  In a very real sense, this book gave me a means of understanding the history of the disability movements which were the forerunners of today.

 

As the book progresses, we learn more about Sir Bert’s entry into such movements, as he outlines his journey from being a self described ‘embryonic activist’ to an influential figure in shaping government policy for disabled people.  In here, there is another gem which reveals itself at the heart of the recollections presented.  Through the telling of his experiences, Sir Bert shows us the importance of having a ‘seat at the table’, and of being able to influence others for the benefit of disabled people in the process.  Through making my way in the book, I had a sense that I could have learned a lot from how Sir Bert chose to work to make life better for disabled people.

 

I won’t add in any more spoilers at this point.  If you want to find out more – you will have to read it for yourself.  This book is a great read, and I’d really recommend it.

 

A Life Without Limits By Sir Bart Massie is published by Mereo Books, and is available here.

2 See the whole person, not just the impairment: Reflections on a good medical appointment

Hello! Regular readers of the blog may recall that over the past 4 years (yes 4!) Fran has been working her way around the NHS in various ways in the search for an improvement to her day to day life. Let me rewind a little dear reader so I can give you an overview.

Four years ago Fran had a fall and unfortunately broke her foot. She was then taken to Accident and Emergency. Rather than waiting, the usual ‘patch and mend’ approach was taken at A&E to put Fran’s foot in a cast. However. As someone with Cerebral Palsy, Fran’s body doesn’t fit the standard presentation or course of action, or react in the same way to treatment in a way that is typical.

In a conventional situation, a cast is a response to a bone break, to both ensure it is immobile and/or to correct the position of a broken bone. As Fran was in significant discomfort, the quick decision was taken to put the foot in a cast.

The problem with this was that the foot was cast in an inward position, which caused ligament damage. What should have happened in this situation is for the medical professionals involved to recognise the particular nature of Fran’s circumstances, have a specialist called and leave well alone.

So work was needed to correct the original ligament damage and the pain caused as a result. This has taken literally three and a half years as various people have tried to find some sort of solution that improved things. Fran has lost the little mobility she had before the fall, and we had to very quickly move house as a result of what happened.

It has been four very hard years with a lot of lows along the way. During this time Fran has had some awful experiences and lost a lot of confidence and faith in the medical professionals she has seen, to the point where she now asks me to go with her to make sure she is listened to.  That it requires me to go with Fran at all is a damning reflection on some of the encounters she has had.

Fast forward to last week.  We had finally seen someone who ‘got it’ – someone who took the time to listen to Fran, to get to know her, see her and work with her.  You see, because of the Cerebral Palsy, a lot of the standard medical ways of dealing with things simply don’t work.

Fran also has a very detailed understanding of the way her body works, and what her impairment means.  In this sense, she is the expert, and will always be uniquely placed to understand what is likely to work.  In this sense, Fran needs to be an active participant in her treatment and work with the medical professionals together to find what is often a pragmatic solution.

I highlight and italicize the above words as this is exactly what happened in our previous appointment.  I will keep doing so in order to highlight the good practice in what was, for me, was the best appointment we have had during these difficult four years.

Firstly, the doctor came out to greet us and had clearly read Fran’s notes to remind himself of the case and where we were up to.  In the previous appointment he had seen the whole picture and taken a holistic decision to pause proposed treatment, allowing us time to take a much needed holiday which did Fran’s body a lot of good.

During a wide ranging discussion in which Fran was listened to and given the time and space to express her views we jointly discussed treatment options and the relative merits of them.  This led to an improved decision which aims to maximise the beneficial impact of treatment as a result of a collective discussion and Fran’s views being heard.

In the appointment, Fran’s background and circumstances were included in the notes for the benefit of future people that may see her and a copy of the notes sent to Fran shortly after the appointment.  The bold highlighted elements may seem like obvious things but are those which stood out because of the number of appointments where Fran had not been heard.

Fran and I came away from this appointment feeling elated and with faith and trust in the person we are working with and feeling more optimistic about the future. The proposed course of action will mean a long few months, but hopefully ones which will see an improvement. In words that left me with a huge lump in my throat after the appointment, Fran exclaimed ‘they saw me, they saw me!’

Above all, my key messages about working with someone who has an impairment are:

  1.  See them as a whole person. Don’t just see the impairment. Take the time to get to know them and see all the aspects of their life.

 

  1. Understand that in relation to their impairment they will often be the expert, and that in order to get the best outcome, you will need to work with them.

 

Seeing a patient, not the impairment shouldn’t be that hard, or that novel, should it?

The importance of relentlessness

I write this sat in the middle of our hotel lobby in Portugal, as we have reached a little over the halfway point of the first Football for All Leadership Course in Lisbon.  Over the past few days, we’ve had the privilege of hearing from some fantastic speakers at the top of their respective games, and bonding as a diverse group with much to learn from each other.  Thus far, the course has provided an invaluable space to critically reflect on my current practice and continued professional development.  We have learned about a vast array of things from the personal to the technical.  I raised a rye smile when my animal based leadership profile came out as..an Owl!

A further striking feature of the course has been that despite our truly global background, with over 10 countries represented on the course from across the world, is the common issues that we all face.  A big part of the solution comes from the shared learning of our experiences, drawing from the different contexts we have, and strategies we have used to make progress.  During the course we have had a couple of visits, including to the Portuguese FA and we are heading to the home of Benfica tomorrow!  Each class has raised thought provoking questions for our current work, and how we get better in the future.

On top of all these things, just one stands out – the importance of relentlessness.  It is clear that such are the nature, scale and stubbornness of the issues that we face, that only the highest levels of determination to address them will result in a difference being made.  Sustaining such relentlessness is of course far from easy, and requires a seemingly endless supply of energy that it won’t always be easy to find.

Such relentlessness should also not be mistaken for a blunt instrument.  Moreover, part of its success will be marked by the subtlety and judiciousness of its application.  Relentlessness does not mean indiscriminately shouting from the rooftops, nor tackling every cause.  It means the deliberate application of effort in a co-ordinated away to tackle problems, with the goal of making a positive societal difference for all.  Time and patience is also required, for the gradient of progress may be a shallow one, with a few bumps on the way.  Relentlessness and resilience will go hand in hand.

The rewards are also huge (and quite possibly the stakes too!) for the progress made will help society will be a better place and contribute to solving the collective issues which will make all our lives better. I am of the view that, in times where it is arguably easier to find what sets us apart than what brings us together, it is vital that we find common ground.  Locating such territory will not always be easy, and entail the negotiation of some really tough and sensitive issues.  For me though, inaction is not an option.

We must also celebrate our successes and learn from where things don’t go quite so well, taking the opportunity to learn and improve wherever we can do so.  As time passes, we must continue to innovate and not be afraid to be bold in our approach (a point which the course has emphasised throughout) and share our progress.

I am acutely aware that I may sound idealistic at this point.  We can and will make progress though…and that is the relentlessness talking!

The Final Straw

In this blog, I focus in on current developments around the proposed ban on plastic drinking straws.  I look at this both as an issue in its own right and relate it to wider, more general matters.  In summary, I think the straw ban illustrates how the needs of disabled people are increasingly marginalised, and how this can be responded to.

Without being able to effectively convey their views using the right channels, hooks and levers, there is a risk that the views of disabled people will continue to be marginalised in policy making.

Why it isn’t ‘just a straw’

Simply put, straws are an essential for a lot of people.  My wife is one of those people. Without a straw she cannot drink at all for any purpose from the every day cup of coffee to when she needs to take tablets. Such is the importance of the straw that the availability of them (or otherwise!) has been known to fundamentally alter plans. Now I never leave home without them!

On occasions, we have been supplied with non plastic straws, especially paper ones. The paper ones in particular have almost with exception been very poor substitutes. I often think that people who suggest using them have never had to actually do so themselves.  There are other options, such as reusable straws, which have not proved to be hygienic or practical (using a public sink to rinse them out is not fun!) or comparatively very expensive and themselves impractical (see bamboo straws and metal straws.)

It frustrates me when people refer to them as ‘just’ straws.  Imagine going to a restaurant to be told you had to bring your own cutlery.  Its inconvenient and another barrier to accessing an environment which can already be difficult enough in and of itself.  For me, it is a further example of how medical model based thinking is increasingly reestablishing itself as the default position.  You have an impairment, and it is down to you to provide the solution.  This is a regressive position in my view.

Symbolism

There are also broader symbolic aspects to how the straw issue feels as everyday matter.  ‘You can just ask for a straw the conversation goes.  Of course you can, but it is how it feels to experience that which it is important to grasp.  To ask for a straw after having to ask for help to get into premises, a lower level of or a specific type of seating and/or booking may just be one step too far.

Feeling multiple layers of self consciousness due to the adaptations needed to an environment is not fun – and can deter you from wanting to bother from venturing into places in its own right.  Asking for a straw is like placing the final one on the camel back in some situations, and those layers of complexity and difficulty can lead to not wanting to bother to access the environment in the first place.  Elsewhere I have referred to this as the ‘war behind the door‘ and that struggle is a very real one!

Straws and the policy making process

I see the straw issue as being reflective of a more general set of issues about the policy making process in general, and how the views and interests of disabled people are represented.  Or more to the point, about how they are not.

On the impact assessment of the proposed ban on plastic straws the impact on the people who need to use straws is given minimal reference.  A medical exemption is proposed for those who need to use straws for ‘accessibility needs.’  The consultation continues as follows:

‘It is proposed to provide for these exemptions by allowing wholesalers to import and stock plastic straws for distribution to, pharmacies and pharmacy departments in both hospitals and retailers for supply to those that need them. We will be seeking views on whether online pharmacies should be allowed to supply plastic straws. It is also proposed that we allow catering establishments such as pubs and restaurants to provide plastic straws to customers on a specific ‘on demand’ basis.’

The framing of this exception is both interesting and problematic.  Defining the problem in medical terms means that disabled people will potentially need to have a prescription to buy their straws!  For me there is also a reductive element to this framing, neglecting the wider social aspects to these issues.  There is also a ‘slippery slope’ aspect to framing such as this I think in that disabled people are cast not as autonomous beings, but merely as patients to be dealt with in medicalised terms.

There is also an accessibility issue here.  To be able to respond to, engage with and correct such views, disabled people and the organisations that work with them have to be able to engage with the policy making process to make their views heard.  This may be difficult and daunting for many, and raises a need for training in how to work with policy making processes such as this one to ensure views are heard.

There are many layers to the important debates around the straw ban, which go far beyond face value.

Notes from a hostile environment


I write this reflecting on a range of recent events, some personal, others more general to me.  I first came across the term hostile environment in relation to immigration policy.  An informative publication from Liberty outlines the sites where this hostile environment is in operation, ranging from education to employment to housing.  Of this, the guide says:

De facto hostile environment policies, designed to limit migrants’ rights and deter them from accessing services, have operated for decades

As I’m reading this I nod.  I nod because I think that increasingly the ‘hostile environment’ applies to disabled people.  It applies to disabled people who are denied education at an increasingly earlier stages of their lives.  It applies to the awful Bedroom Tax, which denies disabled people the space they need to store their essential possessions and forces them into unsuitable property.

The disability employment gap continues to yawn away, obscured by technical arguments about statistics.  Whatever the measure used, the fact is that people with an impairment do not fare as well as those without one in the workplace, and this has been the case for years.  As if to prove the point, Inclusion London have today released some research showing that disabled people are being pushed away from the workplace by the operation of the benefit system.

Which brings us to benefits, including PIP and Universal Credit.  Regular readers of this blog will know my thoughts well on the former.  On the latter, figures have emerged suggesting that people will lose up to £200 a month.

Yet still the hostile environment is allowed to continue.  The front pages dominated by Brexit and the antics of someone whose name I don’t even know in Strictly Come Dancing.  Every morning it seems, I read the newspaper headlines and shake my head.

Closer to home, I had to go to a hospital appointment with my wife last week. Without me she was greeted with comments such as ‘Where is your carer?’ With me, she was taken seriously and given time to have her questions answered by someone who actually made eye contact and shook her hand.

There are people who are out there who are making a difference, who are highlighting the issues, whose work I applaud and from which I draw strength. Much more of this is needed.  Much, much more.  Then there is also the notoriously fractious disability community, for whom consensus on the key issues seems to be illusive, to the detriment of so many.

The charges are too easy to sweep away.  A particularly pernicious feature of the hostile environment is its stealthy and subtle nature, its creeping norms steadily chipping away.  It also has a teflon like quality, armoured with an ability to swiftly and confidently dispel any critiques, stubborn enough to resist even the sternest of critiques.

So where are the solutions?  Unusually dear reader, I am not so sure at this point in time.  Something has to change though, and some new responses are needed which are effective in highlighting the numerous manifestations of this hostile environment.

Let us hope some counter measures can be swiftly deployed, and that the responses are forthcoming.  I’m tired of shaking my head.

PIP Journal- An Update

Dear Reader,

Hello!  I hope this finds you well.  I just wanted to give you a quick update on the PIP Journal as it has been a while and a few of you have asked me about this and where it has got to. To give some context, I wanted to do the best job with this I could, albeit on a budget of zero and a limited amount of time!  To that end, it was really important to me to have a draft of the journal put through its paces.

In order to do that, I reached out to a few of the great people I know to get a range of feedback, from the more technical to the views of those who this journal is aimed at.  It was really important to me to get a range of viewpoints so that the design of this journal could be as inclusive and as useful as it could be.  Though I cannot name the individuals at this stage (with their permission I will later!) I have feedback from:

  • Two disability experts
  • A disability focus group
  • A housing association and a range of staff

I’m pleased to say that the feedback was very positive and also reassuring across the board.  The people who I sent this to also made a range of suggestions and observations about improvements which will be incorporated into the revised draft which will be ready for release soon.

My next step will be to work on a draft for general publication as a working draft, which will have a more general consultation window.  This consultation window is designed for people who are using the journal to be able to give feedback on how they have found it and to suggest improvements.  I’m really keen that this is a journal that should be designed with disabled people at its heart, and their needs at the forefront.

I am also trying to write the journal in a style which combats the worst parts of the form. The below is an example of this in relation to toilet needs:

An extract from the PIP journal in relation to toilet needs

My hope is that through injecting some warmth into the journal it will make the form in particular a little more accessible and address what I think is one of the hidden barriers in the process in the way in which information like this is asked to be disclosed. 

Finally, a thanks, for your patience, interest and good will!  What this endeavour lacks in resources it is more than made up for the abundance of encouragement I’ve received, and I hope that by working together we can come up with an end product that will make a positive difference.

If you would like a copy of the journal to be emailed to you when it is released, please complete the following form:

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Talking with my inner critic

As I pause to write this blog, I’m in two minds.  I know precisely what I don’t want it to be, which is the flip side to what I normally feel when I write a blog.  My inner critic is saying ‘you don’t want to write this blog, it’ll be rubbish and nobody will read it..’ and so it goes on.

I’ve written previously about my depression, because I believe that being open about mental health issues is a good thing, and that any remaining taboo around them frankly is in need of decimating in the swiftest way possible!  I think one of the impacts of this for me is that there is no real ‘cure’ as such, I have just got better at recognising the signs and deploying the constructive coping mechanisms that I have.  I quite often have to switch off, as overthinking is one of my favourite things to do (if you sort that one, then please do let me know!!!)

So a couple of weeks ago I had a real dip, began to really doubt myself.  I also think one of the skills I have developed is to distinguish between the ebbs and flows of every day life, where it is perfectly natural for my mood to fluctuate (often on a Saturday afternoon at about 5pm after my beloved Sheffield Wednesday have invariably lost) and what might be a bit more of something to keep an eye on.

When it is the latter, that inner critic of mine really gets going.  Though I can only speak from my personal experience, I think its particularly easy for the inner critic to speak up where my impairment is concerned. When you have the mind of a 35 year old, and the body of a pensioner, often the brain is willing, but the body is not.  The flip side of this is that I’ve become particularly adept at solving problems and finding solutions to this, even if its just not straying far from bed at the weekend.

The trouble with my inner critic is this: It is exhausting! When I was 21, I was lucky enough to get into Cambridge.  There was a myth that was particularly prevalent there (and to be fair, in lots of other places too probably!) which we called the ‘imposter syndrome.’  Someone would come up, tap you on the shoulder, and let you know that there had been some terrible administrative mistake, and you shouldn’t be here after all.

I took my imposter syndrome with me, and have only really got to grips with it a few years ago.  I had told myself for a long time that when I got my PhD, I would have all the validation I needed.  Truth is, it was only after then that I had a bit of a eureka moment and found that my certificate didn’t in fact come with a gold plated key to wisdom.  True validation was something that had to come from within and that I had to train myself and work on.

Which brings me back to a few days ago.  My inner critic wouldn’t shut up, and I knew I had to change things a bit.  My standards are infinitely high dear reader.  This is no bad thing, but I needed to change my approach.  I needed to be more compassionate with myself.  I needed to start to re-recognise the good things.  To take time to be grateful for them again rather than taking them for granted.

So I started each day with a list of the positives and ignored the inner critic.  I close each day with listing the things that had gone well, that I had to be grateful for, and which I was looking forward to tomorrow.  The inner critic is still there, and probably always will be, and has its place.  I need to use it to drive me on to better things, rather than coming up with reasons to help me stop from even attempting them.  It’s definitely a work in progress, but one that I feel better for having started 🙂 My questions for the day are now as follows:

  • Morning: What have you got to be thankful for.  List at least 3 things if you can
  • Through the day: Notice your ‘wins’ – what have you accomplished?  Write those things down and tick them off!
  • At the end: Think about what you have worked on – and what has been developed. What have you achieved? List at least 3

Still the trepidation as I hover over the publish button for this post.  As you read this, you know that my inner critic has taken a back seat on this one.

I offer this blog to everyone else with an inner critic that needs to be put in its place from time to time.  It can be done 🙂

The PIP Journal – A draft

Well its taken longer than I’d like, but better later than never hey.  I’ve been working on the draft of the PIP Journal for a while and I’ve given it to Fran, who is great at designing things and making things like this come to life.  I need to emphasise that this is very much a work in progress, and I have paused deliberately at this point to get feedback from the people who matter most, the people who hopefully will be using it!

The journal is designed to guide people through the PIP process in a supportive way, particularly with reference to the form and completing it in a focussed and relevant way. Samples of the draft content are as follows, just click on each image to view it in more detail:

The next stage for me is to get feedback on the full draft over the next few days, using a few people who have been generous (or brave!) enough to give me comments on this.  I will then look to publish the full draft, along with a full plain text version.

If you have feedback based on the above images, please use the following form to give your thoughts, and thank you in advance for your views.  I might not be able to include all of the feedback in the final version, but will read all the comments I get carefully.

[contact-form to=”[email protected]” subject=”comment on PIP journal”][contact-field label=”Name” type=”name” required=”1″][contact-field label=”Email address” type=”email” required=”1″][contact-field label=”Message” type=”textarea” required=”1″][/contact-form]

Thank you for your continued interest in the project 🙂