Vertical Development Institute

First up, Dr. Alis Anagnostakis Vertical Development Institute takes us on an exploration of the internal edges we face as leaders, especially when we feel "in over our heads". A great opportunity for some reflection on how we sit with discomfort and move through to gain new insights.

Over the past few months I've been lucky to again accompany an amazing group of people on their journey of becoming developmental coaches. As a new cohort of our ICF Level 1 Foundation Diploma is nearing graduation I find myself, again, in awe at the beauty of the transformative learning process.

This kind of learning is not just about knowledge and skill, but about walking the talk of embodying the learning - looking inwards, facing our shadows, being coached over and over again, taking our insights and turning them into action, letting our minds and hearts be stretched in myriad ways. And doing and living all of that together with others - in community - holding space with kindness, honesty and unconditional positive regard for each-other and the whole messy thing: tears, laughter, confusion, discoveries, dark nights of the soul, life challenges that throw us off track, stubborn patterns we challenge, experiments we undertake, fears we face.

Every time we start this journey I remind people of Joseph Campbell's Hero with a Thousand Faces - the mythical journey into the abyss and back, a journey through which the hero, unavoidably, transforms. I also share the parallel journey of the caterpillar turning into butterfly - the poetry of its imaginal cells taking over, forcing it to die so a new being can be born, the vulnerability of being inside the cocoon - no longer caterpiller and not yet butterfly - the patience required to wait for the butterfly to then break out of its shell, rest its new wings, letting them dry before it can fly. These metaphors capture the process of initiation and they capture the trials and tribulations of any profound learning journey. THAT is the kind of learning we're aiming for in this program.

It's not for everyone. It is intense, uncomfortable, requires discipline, practice and a genuine willingness to look inwards. It also requires a generosity to embrace others, meet them where they are, challenge them with kindness and hold them with compassion.

In February 2025 we are opening, for the first time, two groups - one for the APAC/Americas regions and one for Europe/Middle East regions. I have started having admissions interviews and am amazed at the quality of people I discover and very excited to see who synchonicity will bring together this time - as I have seen, over and over, how the right people come together at the right time to learn the very lessons they need in this program. We have a maximum of 12 places in each group and an early bird offer (-500 USD) running until 30th of November.

If you are keen to learn more, do check out the program page (link in the comments or scan the QR code in the image) and reach out to schedule an admissions chat.

Being an educator is, in my and Valerie's view, one of the hardest and most consequential professions in the world. Few other people, outside of immediate family, have such a profound impact on our children’s formative years as their teachers do. And the work of a teacher is about much more than information transfer. The values teachers embody through their behaviours every day, alongside the way classrooms, schools and education systems are run, all create what Dr. Dan Kaufman beautifully calls ‘the hidden curriculum’ - a powerful and mostly invisible set of lessons our children absorb about what is true, who they are expected to be, what matters and how the world works.

In this latest episode of our Growing Humans podcast, Dan generously shared wisdom gathered over a lifetime of service as an educator and mentor of educators, and also, most importantly, a lifetime of work challenging and growing himself as a human being. He showed us how our deepest wounds can become our greatest gifts in life and provoked us to think about the role of education in a much broader way - as a vehicle for human ‘trans-formation’, rather than merely a process by which children receive ‘in-formation’.

I, for one, have left this conversation with a renewed sense of gratitude for all educators who invest time and care in embracing each child as a unique human and who choose to stay attuned to self-reflection and learning while they facilitate others' learning. I also left inspired and with a sense of hope for what is possible in education if we start to see it not just as a knowledge-providing machine, but more as a vehicle for growing humans who can thrive in an ever more complex world.

Val and I both hope every educator (and parent) listening to this episode will feel called to reflect and hopefully will find a valuable new perspective or even an idea for a personal experiment towards their own growth.

The full episode is 👇. We look forward to your reflections and insights as you listen:

I've been mostly off Facebook over the past few weeks - not on holiday (although now I really need one!), but navigating a big life transition that's taught me a few good things, some of which I share in this article. This is a story about family, parenting, love relationships and that habit I and quite a few others have - getting fixated on a big goal and forgetting to enjoy the journey.

And while that sounds a bit like a cliche, the consequences of not stopping to 'smell the roses' are real. Here's what I've discovered in my latest foray into this old and familiar pattern (link 👇)

The second episode of the Growing Humans podcast is out! Valerie Livesay and I were delighted to have as a guest our dear friend, leadership development expert, doula and wise human - Kimberley Dawe. Together we explore how women transform through giving birth and the implications of this growth not just for our personal, but also for our professional lives.

You will hear our very different stories of coming to motherhood - from the moment of deciding to have kids to giving birth and navigating the first months post-partum - and some of the precious lessons we've learnt along the way. Kim also invites us all to reflect on the often-missed value new mothers bring into the workplace and how organisations might harness this incredible potential.

I left this conversation deeply inspired and so grateful for people like Kim, who walk through life with their eyes open and are not afraid to transcend the boundaries between personal and professional and cross-pollinate between life experiences for their own benefit and for the greater good.

We are delighted to also have Kim as one of the expert facilitators contributing to our new course - "Growing Humans: How Raising Children Raises Us" - Launching on the 1st of October and now open for pre-enrollments.

Listen to our conversation with Kim and check out the new program (both links in the comments).

One of my biggest insights from Valerie‘s research has been identifying the different parts of me that come out when I’m at my wisest and especially when I’m not at all my best self. These inner ‘characters’ hijack the stage of our lives, taking over and directing our behaviours in ways very far removed from our best intentions. Ms. Bossy Boots is a character who got her name when my daughter was about three and called out one of my not-so-fine moments.

In time we’ve learnt to speak openly in our family about our different characters and make them visible in the moment, as a way to self-regulate, but also as a way to hold each other accountable. It doesn’t spare us our fallback moments, but it has definitely helped me be less of a prisoner in those moments and gain more choice and freedom over how I want to show up.

Here’s an article (link in the comments) where Val reflects on her own characters and how they show up over those long weeks of summer when we and our kids have way more time with each other which is a gift, a challenge and, if we let it, one more opportunity for a bit of ‘grown-up growth’.

How beautiful and wise are these words of my dear friend, Dr. Valerie Livesay: “We play the record on repeat to our children. “You need to practice.” Practice your handwriting, your multiplication facts, your karate forms, your Spanish, your goal shooting, your piano, (in my house these days) your careful inspection of the dishes you claim to have washed.

The thing is, we are all forevermore in the practice of something. I tell my kids this all the time. I, too, am in the practice. I am not always going to get it right. But I’m going to try my best and I promise to return with renewed hope and commitment to the practice of being human every day.” Read the article in the first comment.

"What Does It Feel Like to Be a Grown-up?"

This is a question my eight-year-old asked recently. It gave me pause. I asked her in turn: "What does it feel like to be eight?". She said "I'm still Me". I answered, "So am I".

“Perhaps time will make my memories fade, perhaps when I grow up I’ll perceive my teenage years very differently than I do now. I hope that this journal, which I start today, will help me understand my children much better when they reach my age now. I hope this journal will help me bridge that ‘generational gap’ that everybody seems to be talking about.”

So starts the first entry in my very first journal. February 1999. I was 15 years old.

I have been trying to figure out what being a 'grown-up' means for over 26 years now and I'm just a few steps closer to the answer than when I started.

The story of that journey and some of the lessons I learnt - in the article in the comments.

I am a lover of intellectual depth. I’m also an introvert, so shallow conversations are my least favourite thing. I love rigour, and will gladly jump down rabbit holes of dialogue, exploring topics I’m passionate about with equally passionate people. And yet, over time, both as learner and facilitator of learning, I’ve started to notice that subtle threshold when intellectual conversations become less about learning and more about self-protection.

I notice this often at events/conferences/programs in my professional circles, where researchers and/or developmental practitioners (facilitators/coaches) come together and start talking about the field of development. Conversations often become abstract, and big words and acronyms are used a lot - complexity, systems, perspective-taking, VUCA, BANI, ‘lenses’, heuristics, presence, sociocracy, ‘field’, ‘developmental edges’ and ‘shifts’ - all of which, in and of themselves, prompt vigorous debate and intense discussions on nuance, meaning, schools of thought, theoretical approaches.

Yet, these conversations often lack practical examples or personal stories of lived experience. What is something complex YOU are dealing with in your own life right now? What does ‘presence’ mean to you? When did you last catch yourself NOT being present and with what consequences, on whom? What is an example of a particular ‘developmental edge’ you are working on right now; and in what context of your life? These questions are rarely asked and even more rarely answered.

People are polite, careful to make ‘everybody feel included’, ‘foster the spirit of dialogue’ and generally ensure an atmosphere of harmony devoid of any real or perceived discomfort for any of the participants. It’s easy at times in these environments to feel we are engaged in this delicate dance with intricate, choreographed moves where we carefully tiptoe around each other, wary to not offend anyone, skillfully showing off our expertise without taking too much air-time, revealing too much of ourselves or seeming like we are not open to others’ perspectives.

“Building on what X said” - is a phrase I hear often in these spaces. What is it that we are building towards, I am often unsure. “Reflecting on Y” - is another common phrase. How we turn reflection into action, often remains unsaid. The event ends, and we leave having forged ‘deep connections’, gained ‘powerful insights’ and vow to ‘continue the conversation’. But when should conversing end and acting start, and what difference do our musings make in our small real worlds or in the big wide real world at large?

Full article in the comments.

I'm very happy to share the latest episode of The Developmental Podcast, featuring Samantha Kropff.

Sam invites us on her journey from being a forensic investigator to becoming a leader and later a leadership development expert and the accompanying transformation she experienced in her work and life. She vulnerably shares the ups and downs of her growth - revelations, setbacks, hard-won lessons and the courageous choice to push herself out of her comfort zone again and again.

Samantha is an inspiring example for every woman who has ever had to find her voice and step into her leadership power, especially when working in male-dominated environments. She is also an advocate for the value of vertical development as a life practice, showing us how incredibly beautiful and painfully messy the journey of human growth can actually be.

I've learnt so much from this conversation and am very keen to learn what wisdom nuggets you take from it in turn!



https://www.verticaldevelopment.education/p/a-lived-experience-of-vertical-growth

One of the biggest struggles in my own life and the lives of so many of my clients and friends is the sense that time is rushing by and something left unfinished constantly chases us, something always needing our attention. We're perpetually ticking things off a cursed list of to-dos that never ends.

Underlying it all there's often impatience. Impatience for the day/week/quarter to end, for THAT particular milestone to be met, for THAT other goal to be fulfilled. And when we do finally cross the finish line towards some long-awaited dream, we're often so exhausted that all we're able to experience is relief, instead of the exuberant joy we had been hoping for.

I've tried many things to break this pattern and only two seemed to work.

The first I was reminded of today, when I forced myself to pause from what seemed hugely urgent work and took my daughter and our dog to the beach for an hour. It seemed so indulgent to take that time knowing how much was left undone, but once I was out in the open air, my kid and her dog running happily, I found myself stepping back and gaining perspective. I realised THIS moment is so precious and will never return: my child still young; our dog still a playful puppy. It's a moment to be savoured and cherished.

I shared this thought with my daughter and she replied: "Memento mori, Mom!". We're all going to die. Instead of finding this thought depressing, I find it sobering and freeing. It's the most effective way to extract myself from the trap of 'not enough time' and tap into the gratitude for 'this is the perfect time'. Whenever I find myself on autopilot, all it takes is remembering the finiteness of it all and all of sudden the full flavour of NOW becomes accessible again. This has worked better for me than meditation or any other presencing practice I have ever tried. Some might find it a bit morbid. Others might find that consciously thinking about death - not with dread, but with equanimity - is worth experimenting with.

The second practice that I've found incredibly powerful in taking me off the treadmill of 'doing' is something Professor William Torbert calls "timely action". It's the capacity to shift your attention in noticing the ebbs and flows of life and timing your actions in collaboration with life, not in a struggle with it.

It's noticing when things don't move as fast as you wish them to - the frustration of delays and the pain of your impatience - and trusting there is a timeliness to things. It's believing that there is a 'right time' and having the humility to understand that you don't choose the right time. All you can do is act mindfully and listen carefully for the subtle signs of the opportune moment. I have countless examples of 'timely action' in my life, yet often I forget and find myself trying to push things again. And then life pushes back, waking me up to a broader perspective.

If you too are impatient for something today, perhaps reading this will help a bit.