Waxing physically and philosically...

After literally years of deliberation, and as a result of some delicate and some less delicate prodding, this blog is my effort to organize - to bring together - my thoughts about my work as a conductor and as a personal trainer, to rant and rave as necessary, to celebrate the little things and the larger moments of brilliance, and to share some conductive magic and life lessons gained through 'waxing physically and philosophically'.

Monday, August 31, 2015

What emotional intelligence?

I have been feeling wildy emotional over the past few days, bouncing between peaks and troughs as if making a sport of it.  I cried during 'Trainwreck', a romantic comedy I went to see specifically because I was looking for lightness.  I have spent the last hour pouring over media tributes to Dr. Oliver Sacks and pondering his legacy, only to have my reading interrupted by news that Wayne Dyer also left this world today, not even finding solace in the graceful way that they both faced their own mortality.

On Saturday I spent an hour talking to a friend from home, a friend and soul mate whose life experiences and wisdom around those experiences have always helped me approach my own.  We spoke about healing from stressful periods in life and about the psychological effects of transitioning into the what next.  I had been cruising along until that conversation - or actually operating in cruise control mode rather than driving.  


Part of cruise control mode came from the general feeling of relief I was experiencing - relief to have left a work situation that was causing stress, relief at not having to fight anxiety every morning on the way to work and to swallow that anxiety down so that I could give my clients the service they deserved, relief from the nightmares and tiredness and overwhelm and guilt and worry, relief from the metaphorical burden that was lifted from my shoulders, relief that I was feeling like myself again.

The relief however was masking the rest of the transition emotions - the fear and excitement, the insecurity and confidence, the anger and elation, the simultaneous wanting to hide and wanting to fly, the too hard, too much and the can't wait, boundless energy.  There was a two month restraint of trade in my previous contract that has conveniently forced me to lay low instead of plunging right in that I have been hiding behind - though I have been complaining about it, it has actually allowed me an incredible luxury - a pause button on my life, the option of cruise control.  But finally, with all of these emotions surging through me I feel like I'm ready to start driving again.  And it it feels great to be back in the drivers seat.

So yes world, I'm back to being self employed, and to working privately, and to answering only to myself and to my clients.  And yes, I'm scared, and no I'm not sure how this will go, and yes I'm excited, and no I don't have regrets, and yes I believe that I have something to offer and that I will find my place again in the big world out there, and no, thank you, I'm not going to be seeking compromise any time soon.  

A conductor that I spoke to last week told me to succeed so that other conductors who are feeling stuck or unhappy know that they have options.  I chatted to three conductor entrepreneurs, women I admire and look up to, who assured me that though it isn't easy on your own, it is 'less soul destroying' and certainly worth it.  I launched business cards and a Facebook page and was overwhelmed by the positivity and support I received. So here is to next chapters; here is to periods of transition, and here is  to my new business Transformations: Movement for EVERY Body. 


Thursday, August 27, 2015

From Sydney with Love

I have always said how lucky I am that in my work as a conductor I have met some of the most wonderful people.  Today I received a letter from one of those wonderful people - someone who trusted me as a conductor, someone who has gone on to become a much cherished friend, someone who has taught me more than I could ever hope to teach her, someone I hope to make proud as I start again again in my new venture in Conductive Education.  


Maria has spoken at an international conference about how CE has benefitted her as an adult with cerebral palsy, has travelled the world competing with Sailability and more recently just for pleasure, and is working on an autobiography.  



But today she took the time to write these words, which I am humbled to share with you:

Maria writes...

My sincere congratulations to Lisa for launching her new business,Transformations: Movement for EVERY Body.  I wish Lisa every success in her new venture.

 

I met Lisa in 2003 when my husband and I were invited to take part in a pilot program of Conductive Education.  This program was aimed at adults with Cerebral Palsy, and was the first of its kind for adults in Australia.

 

I had heard about Conductive Education but really did not know what to expect or how the treatment could help me, but at the age of 48, I was willing to try anything that might help me to keep my mobility and independence. Despite being born with Cerebral Palsy, I have always taken great pride in my independence but as I age, my independence has become slowly increasingly difficult to maintain.

 

It was mid way through my second term of Conductive Education that I began to understand the fundamentals of the treatment.  I started to implement much of what I had learnt in Conductive Education to help me in my everyday lifeI found myself using controlled breathing and counting in my head when had difficulty in doing simple tasks.  It always works for me.

 

In December 2010 I made a submission to present a paper at the 7th World Congress on Conductive Education in Hong Kong.  My submission titled “Conductive Education Is Not Only For The Young” was accepted and with the support of Lisa and Alexander I travelled to Hong Kong and presented my paper.  I was very proud to present my paper and I enjoyed listening to other presenters speaking about the many aspects of Conductive Education.

 

Unfortunately I do not have access to Conductive Education any longer. now attend a main stream gym and work out in the swimming pool weekly. In many ways both are similar to Conductive Education but they don’t teach me the tasks I need to remain independent.

 

I often wonder how different my life would have been if I had access to Conductive Education at a young age

 

Maria Dalmon.



Friday, February 27, 2015

Life Without Limits -- Conductive Education on the International Stage

I was planning to use this blog posting to simply announce an upcoming conference that I will be presenting at -- but it seemed a bit impersonal dear readers, to do so without at least saying hello to you, and telling you a bit about what has been going through my head lately.  That said -- if you are pressed for time and just want the facts, please find a link to the conference which takes place April 16-18th in Auckland below.  My presentation is on Friday April 17th at 2:30 pm and if you are in the 'hood it would be most wonderful to have support from the CE community there.


Work has been hectic and a bit stressful over the last while.  That may or may not be the subject of a future blog post.  Life outside work has been more about exploring, adventuring, and indulging than about maintaining this blog, for which I will not feign apology.  In fact, I actually offer the opposite of an apology -- I offer the encouragement to do the same.  When life is good, get out there and enjoy it.  When things are hectic and stressful, all the more reason to seek what makes you happy and to care for yourself by doing things that offer pleasure, restores balance, and provokes gratitude.

Yes, my time outside work has been about exploring, adventuring, and indulging.  But as conductors we are very lucky.  Politics and organizational crappiness aside, for most of us our work makes us happy, offers pleasure, and provokes gratitude.  On the weekends I love the outdoors -- and New Zealand's outdoor are inspirationally splendid.  During the work week my classroom is my sanctuary, my time with clients feeds my soul, and inspires me to be the best that I can be for them and for myself.  Working conductively reminds me to celebrate being exposed to the attitude and lifestyle of Conductive Education; it helps me take risks and try new things; it helps me value and appreciate being the best you can be within the context of a set of circumstances or of a moment, and it helps me celebrate even the tiniest of achievements and to remember that tiny achievements add up to more than the sum of their parts.  For example...

A small achievement was writing about the benefits of Conductive Education for people with degenerative conditions as part of my dissertation as a student at NICE, and having that shape my practice to this day.  A small achievement was opening my colleagues minds to the possibility of opening our services to people with Muscular Dystrophy and other neuromuscular conditions beyond those typically seen in CE.  A small achievement was getting a pep talk from conductor Mandy Elliott affirming that I was right to pursue this path.  A small achievement was starting to work with people with such conditions, even if at first it was just me providing individual sessions outside of our main programs and groups.  The work was too exciting to keep to myself, the clients too outrageously orthofunctional to deny my colleagues the chance to learn and to understand what we could do to support these people.  A small achievement was building a service relationship with the relevant association here in New Zealand and being invited to speak to their key workers about what Conductive Education had to offer.  A small achievement was being encouraged by the Muscular Dystrophy New Zealand service manager to submit an abstract for this conference and actually finding time to meet the submission deadline.  A small achievement was having my abstract accepted for presentation -- and yes, it is a small achievement as in terms of exercise and lifestyle for people with Muscular Dystrophy I didn't have much competition.  (I will post my abstract in the comments for those who wish to read it).

A big achievement, bigger than the sum of all of those small achievements - for what it is worth - is seeing Conductive Education represented at an academic, international conference.  I have a couple of months to prepare and I would be grateful for any support from the Conductive Community, anecdotal or other, from conductors who have worked with people with neuromuscular conditions beyond the few we typically see in CE and from people with these conditions who have benefitted from CE.  Not to be sardonic, but there is a good chance I will be presenting as an independent instead of on behalf of my current organization, so I could use all of the support from the CE community that I can muster.




Saturday, July 19, 2014

A few more life lessons...

A few weeks ago, newly qualified conductor Jalyss Zapf posted a list of 10 things CE has taught her.  A brilliant list actually (I wish I had written it!), a list that made me proud to be a part of the same profession that Jalyss, still wet behind her little conductive ears, was writing about.  A list that generated support and interest from heavy hitters in the CE international community - including one of my Australian participants who quickly rose to the challenge.  Here is a link to Jalyss' post:

http://jjzapf.wordpress.com/2014/06/25/10-things-conductive-education-has-taught-me/

Jalyss ended her post by challenging others to add to that list.  So Jalyss, I've been building this list for you and I've been adding to it over the past few weeks.  I want to thank you as the exercise has reminded me that every day I learn something from CE and from my participants, and that part of the gift of conductive pedagogy is the embrace of an attitude of life long learning.  I hope Jalyss, despite any challenges CE throws your way, that your life is enriched by this crazy profession over the years as much as mine as been and more.

CE has taught me:

1) the power of the conductive community - our classrooms bring people together in a microcosm of hope, support, positivity, genuine relationship and lifelong friendship.  The rest of the world is not always as kind - but having the conductive community to fall back on is invaluable.  Conductors are a part of this wonderful community - we are so lucky. 

2) as cliche as it sounds, my attitude of gratitude has its foundations in my work

3) a sense of appreciation - no, more than appreciation, amazement of how incredibly different each person and each circumstance is, and an ability to celebrate and love people and their differences

4) the power of motivation and determination - when you understand the 'why' behind the 'what', the 'how' is just a matter of problem solving. 

5) what resilience actually is - I don't know where it comes from or how to create it, but when it is there people seem to be able to withstand unbelievable hardship and difficulties with grace and stubborn strength that lets them stand up, rise up again and again.  I hope that resilience is contagious and that when my turn comes I will rise again

6) how to have hard conversations, how to be honest and still positive, how to be present for people when times are tough, how to be there even if you aren't sure what to say or do and when really you would rather take your own awkwardness and hide

7) Jalyss said this but I'm going to say it again - it is wonderful and worthwhile to celebrate achievements large and small. Sometimes even tiny things mean a lot and make a huge difference in someone's quality of life, and tiny things add up to be huge things over time

8) it is always worth trying.  You might not know what you can achieve with somebody, or where you should even start, but it is still worth trying. There is always something to learn and something to teach. You don't have to be an expert - just be willing to try, and to be honest about that process

9) to expect the unexpected, to learn to like surprises, to be able to adjust to a moment, to be flexible with your plans.  Jalyss mentioned how to plan - she is right.  Planning is not just about planning a session - planning is also about thinking about who might lose their balance, who might have a seizure, who might be affected by a humid afternoon or a cold morning; who might ask a question that needs answering in that moment and throws your whole plan out the window - surprise!

10) as Dr Maya Angelou said "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel". Which is totally true - except in CE people seem to also remember what you say and do too...

11) that the relationships we build with people are powerful - and should be nourished.  Yes, as a conductor we are professionals, but it is a profession that is very personal and the relationships build are hard to define or limit. We are a part of people's lives and they are a part of ours. There is sharing, trusting, there is love - sometimes over years and sometimes beyond the classroom setting.  There are funerals and weddings and 21st birthday parties - the stuff of community, the stuff of life. That you can love so many people over so many years, that your capacity for conductive love is boundless

12) that you can't fix everyone or everything; that sometimes your best is not good enough, that sometimes someone won't want what you are offering, that sometimes it is just not meant to be

13) that in a conductive group there is an exchange of energy between you and the other conductors and assistants and all participants.  Sometimes that energy will build in the group and lift everyone and you will end the day feeling fantastic.  Other days you pour every bit of energy into keeping the rest of the group afloat and you will need to find a way to replenish your supply. Your energy is one of your most valuable conductive tools - but you can't guard it so you need to be able to refuel as needed

14) it's not all about me - in this profession and in life there is more to consider than what I want or how I feel. That the team is valuable - not just the staff team but that your conductive group is a team- and that team work makes it better.  We don't do to or do for, we do with.

15) it is okay to make mistakes and to let other people make mistakes; that is is okay to say sorry; 

16) that there is a balance between teaching people to take risks and teaching people to evaluate risk and make good decisions

17) patience - at least to be patient when I see value in what I am doing.  I'm still working on being patient in general

18) that you will have ups and downs in your career, you may get tired or burn out.  But if you are passionate about CE - if it is your calling - it gets under your skin, and into your blood, and into every cell of your being so that it becomes more than what you do, but who you are and how you do everything that you do.

So there you go Jalyss, and like you I extend the challenge to the conductive community - what has CE taught you?



Thursday, June 19, 2014

Feuerstein in Aotearoa

Last Saturday night I attended a lecture at the University of Auckland introducing Feuerstein's Instrumental Enrichment to the New Zealand market.  Andrew Sutton has encouraged me to share my thoughts about this here.  Considering it was ridiculously cold outside and that the presentation was held from 7 to 10 p.m. on a Saturday night (after shabbos of course), they did a very good job, completely packing the university Auditorium – I'd estimate 600 were there.  They had enough demand to schedule a second meeting for Monday night.  Saturday night's presentation was free, Monday night was at the museum and was being charged at $15 a ticket.

Local speakers 

The Feuerstein Institute positioned themselves really well – they opened with a TED talk about stem cells and neuroplasticity in adults by Dr Richard Faull from the Auckland University Centre for Brain research. Dr. Faull was also in the audience and gave the closing remark.  



The second speaker was Professor Ian Kirk, the co-director of the Research Centre for Cognitive Neuroscience within the Centre for Brain Research, and leader of the Human Neuroscience team in the School of Psychology. He spoke about being able to prove that learning actually changes the brain.

The third to speak was Anne Gaze.  She talked about the volume of children with learning difficulties in New Zealand and the cost (emotional and psychosocial as well as monetary) of their carrying their disabilities and labels forward into adult life.


The visitors

Next up was Rabbi Rafi Feuerstein (Reuben's son and by chance the parent of a child with Down's syndrome – which is how he got pulled into his father's work).  He was interesting and dynamic – not quite his Dad's presence but powerful and believable – nothing new to those of us already familiar with Feuerstein.. He introduced Instrumental Enrichment, dynamic assessment, cognitive modifiability, discussed some of their work (e.g. the project with Ethiopian immigrants to Israel), and showed a case study. 

Rabbi Feuerstein took us through one of the assessments (dots and lines out of context, needing to be joined to make specific pictures), then worked through the types of likely mistakes to show how they used these tests to find out specifically how someone thought and learned – and what they needed to teach too.  There were lots of shameful giggling as individual thinking styles were elaborated.  I was one of the ones who tried turning the paper upside down and sideways - showing a lack of understanding of general rules.

There was a question period –  the usual stuff –  who do they help, how long is the intervention, what does it cost, can people be trained in New Zealand?.  Rabbi Feuerstein answered and was supported by Chaim Guggenheim, the Feuerstein Institute's Vice-President in charge of international and business development.  A woman in the audience  provided anecdotal reflection, saying that her school had Feuerstein instructors on the team and spoke about the difference that it made with the students, some of whom had 'overcome learning disabilities' to go on to university education as a result.

'Feuerstein' in New Zealand 

The Feuerstein Institute will be running a course in New Zealand.  Their model is to teach Instrumental Enrichment to teachers and therapists – they do not plan to run a Feuerstein satellite or actually work with children here.  There are a few teachers here already qualified and the plan is for Israel to support them and the newly trained in July through professional development. Instrumental Enrichment trainers from Israel will coming back and forth as well for yearly research updates and, it seems, recertification to ensure quality of program delivery.  The of course played their non-profit card very well.

Regardless of what anybody thinks about research, academics and funders are always impressed by it, and the Feuerstein Institute is able to brag papers totalling well over one hundred thousand research papers.  Their website links to many of them -- you can find out more about the Feuerstein Institute, their method (Instrumental Enrichment), their theoretical basis (Structural Cognitive Modifiability), and their plentiful research.


As impressive as the presentation was, I couldn't help but feel saddened sitting in the audience.  Not saddened because of what the Feuerstein Institute has achieved, but because of what we in Conductive Education have not.  The support from the Centre for Brain Research at the University of Auckland, a platform of over one hundred thousand research papers, and a sturdy foundation of academic work underpinning what they are doing.  I include myself here, and am guilty as charged, but we certainly need to lift our game if we are going to see Conductive Education move forward.

My personal contact

I approached Rabbi Feuerstein at the end of the presentation, offered my condolences about his father's recent passing, and told him that I had the opportunity to meet his father in Tel Aviv at the Tsad Kadima conference (he knew Tsad Kadima and asked about the work with cerebral palsy). I told him that I was a conductor (and he knew what that was) and he had heard of Andrew Sutton.  It was a really pleasant exhcange.

He asked why I haven't yet qualified in Instrumental Enrichment. I told him that I'm interested and will keep my eyes posted for the New Zealand. I have also emailed Chaim Guggenheim to express interest in upcoming courses in NZ, who has since responded and promised to keep me in the loop.  I will look forward to see what come of Feuerstein's forray into New Zealand




Sunday, January 26, 2014

Eight million things I love about Em

One of the most wonderful ways to mark time in this profession and on this planet surely must be the pleasure of seeing kids that you conduct evolve and grow into wonderful young people.  Last week I had the pleasure of indulging in this experience for an entire week, when ES decided to hop on a plane from Sydney to Auckland for a visit and a good old fashioned CE kick in the butt.

You can know she is working on her second university degree, you can see her driving around the neighbourhood in her own car, you can go to her 21st birthday.  But suddenly there she is, in another time and another place, confidently introducing herself to a class full of adults, talking about her disability like it is the weather or the cricket, self motivated and focused during the program like all of the other, well, adults.  Suddenly there she is sorting herself out, getting up and dressed on her own and going to bed later than me, ordering cocktails or coffees or whatever she wants, checking to make sure I'm okay after a hectic day, and holding her own in conversations about educational psychology and disability reform and politics. There she is at the airport patiently explaining to the desk staff that she is a person requiring assistance and that no she did not require me to accompany her to the departure lounge (!).



It is hard to describe the way I feel about ES.  There is respect and awe; respect for the journey (which I hope one day she will write about) that she has taken to get to this stage in her life and awe that despite it all she has turned out so wonderfully.  There is pride and gratitude; pride as in I'm so proud to know this person and to introduce her as a friend, pride around seeing what she has become and what she has yet to become and gratitude for what I have learned and experienced by getting to be a part of her journey for the last decade.  There is fierce big sister style protectiveness that has pretty much been outgrown and has been replace by friendship. There is the dance that has to be done whenever a relationship grows and changes which can be disconcerting until you remember that this is what people who see each other through life's transitions have to do to move into the next chapters together.

I see her fall on the beach at Takapuna - the first time she has fallen with me in all of our years of walking together - and see her stand up and brush the sand off of her jeans and laugh about getting wet.  Years ago falling would have devastated her but now this young woman has learned how to fall without falling to pieces and knows how to bounce instead of break.  I find myself wanting to write about her transition, realising that it is not my story to write, and hoping that one day she will tell the world how a fragile and emotionally wrought teenager psychologically trapped by her cerebral palsy finds her way into resiliency and rationality and confidence in adulthood.  I listen to how she talks about how she thinks and feels, about the ups and downs of life in the last few months, and can't help but be amazed at how she now rolls with the punches instead of letting them knock her out, how she gives as good as she gets, and how she now understands her own self worth and is willing to fight for it.



She leaves, and the house is quiet, and I settle back into my routines wishing that I'd had a bit more time to talk to her and that work and life weren't so hectic.  She leaves but isn't gone, like those wonderful people that dance in and out of your life over years and decades, and I realize that we have both watched each other grow up - and that kind of scares me, and I start to think about all of those other wonderful 'kids' making their way in the world of adults as wonderful young people.  I am reminded again how lucky I am to be in a profession that allows me to be on or at least bear witness to these journeys, how lucky I am to be in a profession that allows me to get to know and love so many wonderful people, how lucky I am to be a conductor.

ES, 'I hope you don't mind, that I wrote down in words, how wonderful life is, with you in the world!'



Sunday, November 17, 2013

Conducting myself as a manager..

There are some conductors that have found a way to carve out happy niches for themselves and to happily work within the contexts of their organisations or own businesses - but happily employed or self employed conductors seem to be a minority.  Most often, when you talk to conductors working all around the world, there is an undercurrent of frustration; frustration about not having choice in or control over the programs they conduct and frustration about restrictions and rules and policies for their organisation or governing and funding bodies that get in the way of what they see as best conductive practice.  For years I have been advocating for conductors to step up and take lead roles in organisations providing Conductive Education, and for organisations to look to conductors to build, shape, and manage programs.

I can certainly confess that I was a frustrated grumbler in previous places that I worked - and though I am not sorry that I fought for what I thought was right for my participants and for CE, I am sorry that I was not mature enough, or clever enough to to find ways to thrive within organisations that were trying to support me and CE. When I look proudly back at what has been achieved by my baby, the program at Dimes Canada, I realise how impatient I was, wanting everything to be perfect and perfectly my way right away, and that I was not able to see how hard the organisation was working to bring about change or to appreciate how much behind me - and CE - they were and still are.   I now realise that I got too frustrated with the teething pains of a new program and too caught up in what I saw as the good fight to engage well with management or to step up and take the reigns even with ample opportunity.

Now, years later in another time and another place, after years of successful private practice, I find myself sitting in a very different position as a managing conductor in an organisation brimming with potential but working through transition. A exciting position within an organisation that has chosen to give a conductor the opportunity to build and shape programs; a tenuous position working with frustrated conductors dissatisfied with previous management; an unfamiliar position within an organisation and a program that I haven't personally built from scratch.      

I am emotionally unattached to the history and politics of the organisation but respectful and empathetic to the frustrations of the conductors I am working with and their relationship with what has been, and their resulting demotivation. I do not feel threatened or needing to fight with senior management or board members; I accept they do not necessarily think like conductors but appreciate that they are supportive of seeing our program continue to succeed and grow, and accept that part of my job is to liaise between them and the conductive team. It is an oddly mellow headspace to be honest, an odd combination of bustling passion and excitement and calm clear-headedness that I haven't experienced in any other CE job that I've had.

I have had the opportunity to reflect on how I conduct myself as a managing conductor.  As I've said time and time again, and as Andrew told me years ago, being a conductor is not about 'what you do' but about 'how you do everything that you do'.  In this job there are times when I'm working as a conductor, and times when I am working as a manager, but I know that when I am wearing my manager hat I still think and feel like a conductor.

I have a general manager that I love working with who I have been blessed to have as a mentor - DB is a compassionate and dedicated manager with vast experience in management, governance, and leadership in non profit, disability, and education organisations.   He has given me structure and space to grow and learn, and challenges me to find a way to take this role on my way, conductively, and is patient as I try to find my equilibrium as a conductive manager.  I dare say that he is in fact a 'conductive' manager.

I have stopped trying to see conducting and managing as different - in the classroom I conduct my participants, and I the office I conduct myself and my team -- and I assure you conducting conductors is by far the harder of the two.

As in the classroom, I find myself digging my heels in about believing in my team, about expecting the best from my team even when they are under-performing, about believing it is always worth trying to find a way forward even when my team do not see it.  I still strongly feel responsible for being part of the solution, and believe that it is possible to find a solution even if I'm not the one to find it.  When things haven't gone well I wonder what I haven't done well, what as a manager I should have done better; when things are going well I feel really proud of my team and enjoy their success and the levity it creates in our office.

Even after challenging days or minutes with my team I find myself falling back on an attitude of rugged positivity and tenacious determinism - the very same attitude I have always had with my participants.  Even after a challenging day I still come back in the next day ready to try again, and hoping that this might be the day when we find the break through that moves us forward.

I want to be able to find ways to motivate and inspire my team, to give them opportunities to grow and thrive, to figure out how to bring out the best in them, and to learn how to respect them for where they are at.  I feel badly when I am not able to create that conductive environment for them, or when they choose not to run with opportunities I think that I have opened.  I try to understand my disappointment in myself as a manager who isn't always able to provide an ideal environment or to lift my team in the context of my expectation that as conductors they should be able to create this environment for each other, for our program assistants, and for themselves.  I try to balance this by being transparent in my efforts to bring a conductive approach to my management style, hoping that they too will be conductive with themselves and each other outside of the classroom, and wondering if that is an unreasonable thing to hope for.

It has taken me a while to have the confidence to start to voice this.  I know that there are going to be days and moments that are better than others and I'm a lot more okay about that than I was a few months ago when I started this job, with bright eyes, bushy tail, and rose tinted glasses.  Reflecting conductively helps me remember that as long as I am doing my best in any moment, it is the best that I can do, and thus helps me reflect more kindly on my own successes and challenges. I am so proud to be a part of a profession that has taught me to do everything that I do conductively, and so excited to bring my conductive approach and mindset with me as I step up and into my new role here.