The Problem Solver
When the founders of a new ACT-based primary school curriculum asked me to create an identity for their new product, I thought it would be another standard ‘run-of-the-mill’ branding job. 3 years later and I’m writing a blog for them as a co-director.
As a graphic designer I’ve always put huge emphasis on communication. Not just visual communication, which is essentially what graphic design is, but communicating in general; with my clients, my co-workers, my family and ultimately other human beings.
Understanding others and making sure others understand me.
While I was studying graphic design, it was often defined by my lecturers as ‘problem solving’ (“graphic design is problem solving”), a description which in retrospect I would argue could be applied to many other professions, some much more deservedly so than mine. But it worked for me at the time and gave my chosen career a sense of personal meaning in the bigger picture.
Fast forward 10 years or so and I became the Creative Director of a branding agency in Bristol. We specialised in the arts and culture sector, had a loyal client base and a reputation for being great to work with… “fantastic communicators” (we were often told). Things seemed to be going well. My problem solving skills must be pretty damn good, I thought to myself.
Then in 2016, things took a turn. The business started losing money (after expanding too quickly) and in my personal life; my 8-year relationship with my partner ended suddenly. The business eventually dissolved and it fell to me to let the staff go (the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my career). I also had to find myself a new place to live, on my own.
I blamed myself. For everything.
I’d thought I was a good communicator? A good problem solver?
But all the evidence around me seemed to suggest the opposite.
I’d taken on leadership and failed.
I’d let people down.
My co-directors.
My employees.
My partner.
My communication had failed, and now I had more problems than ever before. On top of all this I felt a huge loss of self-identity. I was 35 years old and I wasn’t really sure who I was anymore, and nothing I’d learnt in my ‘problem solving’ degree helped me. So, I retreated to my 3rd floor flat in solitude for what felt like a very long time and I slipped back into a state of depression (something I’d suffered from, on and off, for most of my adult life).
It was around this time that a friend recommended an app called Headspace to me. This was my first ever brush with the concept of ‘mindfulness’ (Headspace essentially promotes the idea that meditating 3 times a week is scientifically proven to improve your mental health). One of the first animated explanations that I watched on the app was the ‘busy road’ analogy of the mind; where the user is shown as a character sitting on the side of a busy road and their thoughts are represented as cars passing them by. The soothing tone of Andy Puddicombe’s voice (Headspace founder and narrator) explained that my job was just to sit calmly at the side of the road and observe these thoughts – and not necessarily to engage with any of them. “Will we sometimes forget and run out into the road after one of the cars? Of course we will” he calmly expanded “but as soon as we realise we’ve been distracted, we acknowledge it, note the distraction and we bring ourselves back to the side of the road again”.
For me, at the time, the idea that I could develop the ability to step back from my thoughts was revolutionary. It was something I couldn’t believe I hadn’t discovered before. Why hadn’t I been taught this earlier in my life?!
I realised; I’d gone to University and become a master of communication in all aspects of life, except with myself! With my own mind.
Suddenly I had some distance between all of my problems and myself – and I hadn’t actually done ANYTHING, I’d just created some virtual space. I saw that everything that had happened wasn’t all my fault, and even the parts that were; I’d made those decisions to the best of my ability with the knowledge I had at the time. I essentially learnt to stop giving myself such a hard time about, well – everything! Who knew you could actually choose to be nice to yourself?
This second revelation also further shifted my outlook on life at the time – self compassion and self forgiveness (something I still struggle to implement day-to-day). From as early as I can remember I’d always been pretty tough on myself when it came to my standing in the world; holding myself to ridiculously high standards in everything I did (something many of us are guilty of, I’m sure). If left un-checked, this only intensifies as we get older, and if we’re not moving towards where we thought we could be, earning the salary we thought we should be, living the dream we promised ourselves we would be – then we feel like we’ve failed. We tell ourselves we’ve failed, and thus it becomes the reality.
Around this same time I was also introduced to the work of Eckharte Tolle, in particular his book The Power of Now. Although arguably sitting much more on the spiritual side of the fence than behavioural science, his theory and teachings about the difference between your ‘real’ life (as a conscious human being in the universe) and what he refers to as your ‘life situation’ are, in my opinion, one of the most effective ways to help one truly step-back from anything going on in the material world (should you ever need to, and let’s face it – in these times, we often do).
“You are not the car you drive, the house you live in or the clothes you wear. You are not even your job or your hobbies.”
Becoming truly present and enabling some self compassion gave me the essential tools I needed to recover from what had happened. To begin to heal and to build myself back better. I was able to reflect on my past self, and actions, with less relentless criticism and instead made the decision to give ‘that guy’ a break. It struck me that even with the best intensions, information and will in the world – we can all still make mistakes. That’s a pretty terrifying thought, but it’s one that we need to get much more comfortable with.
We make mistakes. All of us.
We will keep making mistakes.
Making mistakes is inevitable.
Making mistakes is part of being human.
We cannot progress as human beings without making mistakes and learning from them. But how do we do that without breaking continuously? The answer I’ve found is this – we forgive ourselves. We surrender control. We forget the idea of perfection. Learning this, in my opinion, is almost more important than learning from the mistake itself. In fact, understanding how fundamental mistake-making is to our existence would probably help many of us stop making so many!
Since becoming part of Connect and understanding ACT, I now know that what I’ve learnt is what we call ‘flexible self view’ (one of the core therapeutic processes worked on in the DNA V model); the practice of developing a flexible perspective and “seeing yourself as an ever-changing and ever-growing person”. Unfortunately I wasn’t introduced to it at primary school through a curriculum, although I wonder where and who I would be now if I had…?
After the strains of the last 17 months… of a pandemic putting unforeseen pressures and strains on most of our lives in some way or another, nobody can deny that there are conditions that support our mental wellbeing and there are conditions that can seriously harm it. The point is we all have a state of mental wellbeing, just like we all have a state of physical wellbeing. There is no void of it, for anyone.
I can’t go back and start my journey towards this awareness sooner (and even if I could, I’m not sure I would want to), but I can use my obtained skills in visual communication to assist the rest of the Connect team on their mission to help others start their journeys as soon as possible. To help young people realise that making mistakes is okay – in fact, it’s essential – and that most of our problems can be solved with acceptance, patience, reflection and plenty of kindness and forgiveness – especially towards ourselves.
Russell Hancock is the Creative Director of the multi-award-winning design agency Extra Strong. He is also Design Director of Connect PSHE and has recently become a Dad.