MAster recording

Ross: [00:00:00] Hi there, and a very warm welcome to Season six, episode 24 of People Soup. It's Ross Macintosh here. This week we've got a different kind of episode, a short cup of soup with just me. I'm going to reflect on my specialism. Acceptance and commitment Therapy or ACT and it's designed to enhance something called psychological flexibility, which is a really useful thing for us to develop in life for enhancing our wellbeing, meaningful action, and general life satisfaction. It helps us to show up as the person we'd really like to be more often. what I'm gonna do in this episode is explain what psychological flexibility is using a story from my life about cycling, and just to let you know, there is what I would argue is an entirely appropriate use of the F word a bit later on in the episode.

[00:01:00] For those of you who are new to People Soup, welcome. It's great to have you here. We aim to provide you with the ingredients for a better work life, from behavioral science and beyond. For those of you who are regular paupers, thanks for tuning in.

Again, we love it that you're part of our community.

first up, let's define psychological flexibility. one way to look at it is this, It's the willingness to experience uncomfortable or unhelpful inner experiences like thoughts, emotions, memories, sensations, and urges in the service of taking action towards things that really matter in life. In other words, it's about being open to discomfort while still moving in the direction of your values.

To illustrate this, I want to take you on a little journey, a two, sometimes three wheeled one. Let's talk about how I got into cycling in the first place.

Spoons

Ross: [00:02:00] A brief history of me and bikes. Let's roll right back. I remember when I was a toddler, I had a tricycle. The kind with the pedals built into the front wheel. Then I graduated to a proper tricycle, a serious bit of kit with three big wheels. Picture something Ms. Marple might use to do her sleuthing around St.

Mary Mead. I think I rocked that look. Sedate, but speedy. But alas, at that stage, no Tweed Then came the moment I had to graduate to two wheels. This milestone had been delayed, possibly because of early signs of procrastination expertise, and possibly because of fear. and eventually it just had to be faced. I was becoming that slightly weird kid. Still riding Miss Marble's tricycle we found a quiet country lane near a village called Stanford M. It had a slight incline. My dad took me to the top of the incline. Mom was cheering me on and down.

I went with full on [00:03:00] anxiety pedals, spinning heart racing. I picked up speed there, a glorious mix of elation and terror, and promptly crashed into a ditch full of nettles and thistles, grazed knuckles and knees. But I think I got the knack that day.

I was hooked From that point on, I loved playing out on my bike with my friends playing out. What a lovely phrase that is. Then my dad. Also known as Big G actually built me a bike when he was a lad, he built one for himself from salvaged parts and saving his pocket money for mine.

He bought the local postman's old bike, stripped it down, painted it bright red, and fitted it with these chunky tires, more like a mountain bike than a racer. I was ahead of my time. It was a bit different from a chopper, which was the cool bike of that era, and I was super proud.

I also had a real leather seat. I adored that bike. [00:04:00] I even remember my cycling proficiency test at Ingham St. Mary's Church of England Aid at first school pedaling around the playground and scoring 98 out of a hundred. I was absolutely thrilled, especially with my bollard work.

Since then, I think I've been through every cycling trend known to womankind racing, bike, mountain bike, hybrid, even a folding bike. And each time I'd get enthusiastic, buy some gear, maybe a bottle, an early bike computer, or a flashy helmet.

But it never quite stuck, not like when I was a kid with the wind and my big hair helmet free. There weren't really a thing. Then spinning down the back lines of the village. As time went on, I noticed a pattern. Whenever I embraced a new bike trend, I'd buy the bike, get the gear and accessories. Feel that buzz. Think gradually. The bike would end up gathering dust in the corner of the flat [00:05:00] repurposed. Dunno if you know, but you can use a bike as a coat stand a bores if you're careful.

They took on an entirely new function, But then after learning about act, developing insights into psychological flexibility and my own psychological skills, I got curious what was stopping me from recapturing the joy of cycling? Why did each new cycling venture fizzle out quite rapidly?

I reflected using acts, behavioral science tools and discovered a bunch of unhelpful and very powerful thoughts lurking under the surface.

So let's have a look at those unhelpful thoughts. One was, I'm no good at sport. I was the geeky, pale, skinny kid with big hair trying to dodge PE at school. That's physical education by the way. Sorry, sir. I have to go and play my recorder. I was considered a virtuoso recorder player at school, and I actually won prizes.

I was the kid who was always last to be [00:06:00] picked for the football team. My PE teachers weren't exactly cheerleaders either one memorable school report read. A poor performance from a boy who has little interest in the subject. Oh, and one PE teacher used to call me crystal tips. There was a cartoon around at the time of a girl with her dog, and the girl had massive hair and he used to shout at me.

Come on, crystal tips, lift those legs. Ironically, I was actually quite good at the hurdles with my lanky pins. Another unhelpful thought was, what will people think of me now? This is a thought that shows up in every area of my life.

Would people laugh at me wobbling along? Would I be ridiculed as just another mammal that's a middle-aged man in Lycra? So a few more of those thoughts. I'm no good at cycling, to be honest. I'm not exactly too de France material. I can't even take a drink from the bottle whilst pedaling. I. I have to stop and have a sip. Coordination is not my superpower. [00:07:00] Another one, it's too late.

You've tried before and it didn't last. You'll give up like you always do. And then the final unhelpful thought is you could start tomorrow. You've had a busy day begi. Writing these thoughts down began to give me some insight into why the new bike venture had fizzled out each time.

These thoughts were really influencing my behavior to such an extent that I simply wasn't cycling.

so instead of letting those thoughts drive my behavior, I asked myself, what matters to me about cycling?

Here's what I found. The values that really mattered to me were fun. I love the joy and vitality of cycling. Remember me playing out in the back lanes of the wind in my big hair. That was fun. That was Freedom. Fitness, not just physical fitness, but mental fitness. I always come back from a ride, a better man, ask my husband.

He sometimes hints, um, might you want to go out for a ride today? And courage, it takes [00:08:00] courage for me to be seen, to feel exposed. And to do it anyway. So peace supers what happened? I got the most recent bike out, dusted it off, oiled the chain, pumped the tires. We were living in Brighton at the time, and I headed for the sea front. I was wearing an old T-shirt and some baggy shorts. The wind in my less big hair. I felt bloody marvelous. Got home and I was delighted. Something had clicked. I felt like I was reconnecting with cycling.

The next day, day two, I rode down to Brighton Pier and came across a crowd of Spanish exchange students. I had to dismount and push the bike around the group, and from the center of the group, I heard this voice saying, Mira, Mira is Chico, Mr. Bean. Ooh, right through the heart. In that moment, every insecure thought I'd ever had rose up again.

many heads turned to look and laugh.

This Spanish kid was comparing me to Mr. Bean.

People were [00:09:00] laughing, I was being judged. They were reinforcing those unhelpful thoughts that were already in my head.

and at that moment I had a choice.

I could have let the thoughts win. Wheeled the bike home, returned it to its role as a book stand and co track, but something stopped me. My values knocked at the door and I thought, fuck you, Pablo. I'm going cycling. and I persisted, and that moment revitalized my relationship with cycling.

I became a regular cyclist. Once I'd kept going for a few months and clocked up some kilometers. I invested in a new bike. Pride and joy. and now I cycle mostly on a mountain bike exploring the Spanish countryside and the olive groves around Seville.

So what has this got to do with psychological flexibility? For me, this story represents psychological flexibility in action. It's the willingness to experience those uncomfortable thoughts. What if people laugh? What if I look ridiculous? What if [00:10:00] it doesn't stick like last time and still take small steps in the direction of what matters? Those thoughts haven't gone away. and I'm willing to experience them in the service of expressing my values in relation to my own self-care and fitness.

For me, those values were fun, freedom, fitness, and courage. so I truly am a cyclist, not a fast one, not a smooth one. But a joyful one, and I'd like to thank that kid who I imagine was called Pablo, for helping me realize what matters to me and helping me explain psychological flexibility.

I hope this story helped illustrate the idea of psychological flexibility. I. If you've got thoughts, questions, or your own story, I'd love to hear from you. If you'd like to hear more episodes just from me, I'd love it if you let me know. Do you have any particular workplace topics you'd like me to reflect on?

You can get in touch at People [00:11:00] Soup dot pod@gmail.com, on Instagram at People dot Soup, and on LinkedIn and Blue Sky. Just search for my name, Ross Macintosh. If you've enjoyed this, please do share, subscribe, write, and review.

You can help me reach more people with a special people soup. Ingredients. Thanks to Andy Glenn for his spoon magic and Alex Engelberg for his vocals. Most of all, dear listener, thanks to you.

Look after yourselves. Peace supers and bye for now.

My values knocked at the door and I thought, fuck you, Pablo. I'm going cycling. and I persisted, and that moment revitalized my relationship with cycling.