After attending a writers’ festival I have decided on my number one pet peeve.
 
I truly hate podcasts, workshops and webinars where the presenter spends the first quarter of the allotted time going on about how good they are, what they have achieved, the famous person they met when they were 10 years old, how they come to do what they do, and so on.
 
I do not care. I go to workshops and festivals for a multiple of reasons one of which is to broaden and consolidate my knowledge base.
 
When I pay for a workshop, and have the good manners to attend it, I expect to learn something. I do NOT want to hear how wonderful their ego is. I WANT to learn something new, to finally understand something that has puzzled me for years.
 
So I upset someone’s applecart, by telling the presenter to get on with the workshop. It was worthwhile when another participant came and thanked me as she thought the workshop was about a completely different topic.
 
The participant beside me had the ill-manners to write ‘qualitative research process’ on my notepad, without my permission. Why? I don’t know, but I guess they thought they were being helpful. What ‘qualitative research process’ is exactly, I have no idea, but will hazard a guess it is a form of learning. Unfortunately for the presenter, it is not my style of learning.
 
In my tertiary studies, I learnt about the different types of learning. I know some people are audio learners, and others are visual learners. I know there are kinetic learners and concrete learners. I know about the role of primacy and recency in the process of learning. I have come to accept my learning style is a mostly kinetic with a dash of visual. I loathe on the spot exercises. I actually have a very linear and logical thought process, and it does impact on my learning style.
 
I want information in neat and complete bundles. A 1, 2, 3 process. I do not want to waste an hour and half of my time sifting through stories looking for kernels of information. I guarantee while I am looking for one kernel I have missed three new ones. My mind needs to focus and storytelling is not a good way for me to focus. Storytelling is for the dinner party.
 
So the moral of this story, friends, is simple. If you are facilitating a workshop, be aware of the participant who wants to learn the greatest amount in the shortest time and leave the storytelling to the evening meal. Use storytelling to illustrate and highlight the points you are making.
 
Your reputation as a facilitator is dependent upon the ability to impart knowledge, not on your ability to entertain. 

Three months ago I waved my Numero Uno Granddaughter off on her Grand Adventure. I did not want her to go for I knew if anything happened I would not be there to help her. By the same token I knew I had to let her go. If you knew my children and grandchildren you would know they NEVER forget. I could not live the next forty years with her looking at me and saying ‘I could have gone there and done this’ etcetera, etcetera, yada, yada, yada.
 
Now she is coming home. The Grand Adventure turned sour. I thought at first it was a massive case of homesickness, but her mother (she does talk to her mother) said ‘no’ it was deeper than that.

I am of the opinion nothing happens we cannot bear, and every event in our life reveals something about ourselves. A lesson learnt.
 
So I learnt how helplessness feels. I learnt you can cry for another person and the loss of their dreams. I learnt how courageous and strong a young woman my granddaughter is. Yes, the little cute child has become an independent woman, and I have to treat her as such.
 
I hope she learnt something about herself. Things like: how strong she is mentally; how resilient she is; her innate nature; she is a homebody at heart; no matter how well you think you are prepared, reality is quite different; she can stand on her own two feet.
 
When she gets home, the struggles haven’t stopped. She will need to find herself a job; get a car; pick up her life here at home. And there will be countless explanations and post mortems on what went wrong, and what she ‘should have done’ to contend with.
 
Will I help her? Of course, what else are grandmothers for? The problem? Time.
 
Like I said, Life’s a bitch and the learning is painful.