A fond farewell and a huge thank you - Day 32

New Year's Day, 1st January 2019

All good things come to an end, or so they say. I can tell from how wretched I feel writing this goodbye how lucky I am to have hosted the Advent Series for the past five years. (This adieu is my own personal "Heartache"). I have learned so much, made some amazing friends, strengthened bonds with others and discovered information about contacts that I would never have guessed had it not been for writing on here. I have unearthed more odd facts and chosen a larger number of illustrations and music for other people's pieces than I care to remember. It is humbling to see how the series has grown since 2014: it now has a wide, global following and contributions have been submitted from a range of locations around the world; writers have aged from teens and to grandparents and people facing up to growing old, and subjects have been equally wide from births and babies to fathers, grandmothers and elderly great aunts; and it has been wonderful to see how people who have joined in from various sectors (including HR, artisan cheesemaking, economics and forecasting, research, Tech, L&D, Facilitation, Facilities and Workplace Design, Artists and Consulting);  and a wide range of attitudes and opinions have been voiced, including through stories, autobiographical reminiscences, confessions of loss, comments on the landscape, and poems. I love the fact that the series is not commercial, it is something that has been created for a community out of individuals' consideration for others and the simple joy of writing something to share. Some people find contributing to the series cathartic or hope to help others, others wish to describe experiences, make a record of the year, or vital moments that have passed,  to share a sadness, talk about loved ones, make sense of the past,  extol a joy or inspiration, light the way, or simply find their voice - the series has been the launch pad for a number of now well known and respected bloggers.  I am not going to call names and single out specific posts - there have been far too many exceptional posts over the years although all the links above are to posts that proved particularly popular. Every blogger has left their mark and the series would have been the poorer for any loss of contributions. "High-fives" to each and every writer.

Being the curator, taking the series on after its initial foundation by Alison Chisnell, I have been privileged enough, to interact quite frequently with the people who have crafted blogs. When people have wished to remain anonymous I have tried hard to protect their identity. Some contributors have written posts that have helped others and which have commenced discussions on important matters such as mental health, bereavement, ageing, sustainability, the future, society and relationships. People have been so open and shared things that have often surprised others. I have learnt a lot from you, and many of you have inspired me and others in so many different ways. Thank you.

As you know, I am passing on the baton to a new curator - Gary Cookson. I am confident that under his stewardship the series will be enhanced and continue to thrive. The series has "become a thing" and I know that it will get bigger and better under Gary's careful eye. I look forward to being a contributor once again and crafting a piece for his chosen theme(s).

My "Hope" is that you all have a splendid 2019, full of joyous experiences, amusing incidents and handy tips that you will be able to use in the posts you craft for Gary near the end of the year.

FAREWELL and THANK YOU!

So long, farewell... and

Thank you!

Pearl - Day 32 (New Year's Day)

Day 32 (Monday 1st January, New Year's Day 2018)

32 years ago, on 1st January 1986, Spain and Portugal joined the European Community.
The UK had joined on 1st January 1973. Portugal operates an hour behind Spain
and hence this region is one of the easiest locations where you can celebrate the start of the
New Year twice - commence by partying in Badajoz’s Plaza Espana (a pretty gem of a town in Spain),
before grabbing a taxi for the 20 minute drive, 9 mile journey, to the charming town
of Elvas in Portugal (shown in the above picture) to greet the New Year in all over again.

Happy New Year! I wish you a wonderful 2018 full of love, good health, happy times and meaningful moments to treasure. I look forward to sharing bits of it with you.

I can think of no better way of starting the New Year than by reading a post from Neil Usher. I first got to know Neil when he was the Workplace Director at Sky - he was one of the truly innovative property and facilities experts who understood the impact that the workplace has on work, the people within it and the wider environment. Neil took the brave step to become a freelance specialist just over six months ago, which has also enabled him to find the time to write a book due to be published in March. If you wish to know more about Neil's thoughts on work and workplace design, you can find him on Twitter (his handle is @workessence) or better still, read his blog: workessence.

To me, the Advent Blog series would be diminished if there was no creative piece from Neil within it - he is an exceptionally talented writer. It has been a long standing tradition in northern hemisphere cultures to tell stories to brighten dark winter days and I see Neil's tales as a perpetuation of this custom. To maintain the flow, there are no punctuating illustrations. 

**********************

Pearl was afraid of the dark.

At least that’s what she told her parents.

They gently questioned and wove a scaffold of fine thread into her curiosity to help her through the nights that could seem interminably long. At this time of year, the excitement added another dimension: keeping her awake, when she wanted to slip past the darkness, unaware and relieved.

Her magenta-washed room was dotted with pins of light – those that stayed on, those that sensed when they needed to be on. Until one evening when the entire neighbourhood was softly sunk into pitch, unannounced. Pearl was deeply submerged in sleep at the time the clocks stopped, but something stirred on the seabed and she began the long ascent to the surface.

When she awoke, her eyes flickered, there was no difference. She blinked, rubbed her eyes and opened them like saucers. It was as though she were staring into the back of her eyelids. She could feel her skin warming, her forehead moistening. This was not right. Her pathway was gone. She was lost in a space where she was safest.

But as she strained to make sense of the slowly returning familiar shapes before her, the darkness about her began to collect itself, the air moved in ever-tightening elliptical coils around her, gathering like candyfloss. Pearl was rooted upright, as a human form appeared at the end of her bed, resting its hands on its knees and tilting its head to one side. It had a familiarity, it seemed to be everyone she knew, everyone she had ever known. A soft ochre light appeared around the shape.

Pearl could not speak, nor scream, yet something about her new companion exuded calm. It was not how she expected to feel.

“Hello Pearl. Don’t be afraid. Easy for me to say, I know but I would rather like to explain myself, if you don’t mind’ it said, in a quilted whisper, a warmth in its voice. ‘I’m the darkness all about you.”

Pearl was unsure, but calm.

“Do you always sit at the end of my bed when I’m sleeping?”

“Oh, no. I’m here for everyone. But I look after you every night, I’m all around you, looking out for you, helping you sleep. When you worry about me, I’m sad. But there is nothing I can do. I know you’re looking forward to seeing my friend, Dawn, and would rather I left.”

“She’s real too? Is she really your friend?”

“She’s my only friend, but we pass by one another slowly, wishing we could be together our hands slip through one another’s. We are the only ones who understand each other. But we never can be.”

There was a moment of stillness, as they both considered the impossibility.

“I’m not scared of Dawn” Pearl reassured herself.

“Ah but there are many who love the darkness of the night and fear the Dawn. A new day for them is terrifying. It means facing things or others they would rather avoid. It can mean making decisions they would rather not face. Sometimes it’s simply the heaviness in their own heart.”

“I can’t imagine being scared of the daylight. But I know people who are sad all of the time. That must be what’s happening. They never say so.”

“It’s rare that people do. It’s easy to say you are afraid of the dark, but it’s hard to admit you are afraid of the light.”

“But what if you and Dawn could be together? Then no-one would need to be afraid.”

“We are different, Dawn and I, and there is nothing we can do about it. We cannot change ourselves, like you can. And we’ve had much longer to try. But we are both here for everyone.”

“If you’re here for me, why am I scared of you?”

“Things that worry you feel bigger in the darkness, much bigger than you. You can’t do anything about them, you have to wait. It can seem like there is only you in the world, that you are the only one awake. So, people think of darkness as bad, and light as good. But there cannot be one without the other.”

Pearl looked puzzled.

“So, Dawn wouldn’t be here without you, and you wouldn’t be here without Dawn. Yet you can’t be together?”

“Exactly. We give each other meaning. You have to have us both.”

“So – you make it possible for me to love the Dawn?”

“Yes indeed. You just need to think of us both, looking out for you, but never able to do so together. We would want nothing more, but we can never do so. So, it helps us to deal with that, if we know you care for us both equally.’

“I will - err, I do. “

“Now, I have to go back to the way I appear to everyone, but I can only do that when I know you’re not scared of me. It’s been a white night for many while I’ve been here with you, and I can’t have them being anxious, can I?”

Pearl nodded and settled.

With that the form dissolved, unfurling into an undulating dream.

Pearl awoke to fractal shards splayed through her blinds. It was much later than usual. She hadn’t noticed the breaking of day, as she often did.

It was New Year’s Day. Pearl was happy. Something had changed.

These are not Hollow words

Day 32 (Sunday 1st January 2017)

32% of Fiji's GDP equates to $1.4 billion - which was the cost of the damage incurred by the
island as a result of Cyclone Winston that hit on 20th February 2016. Cyclone Winston is the
strongest recorded tropical storm in the Southern Hemisphere (with winds of 180mph).
Winston occurred just 4 months after the most powerful tropical cyclone was recorded in the
Northern Hemisphere, Hurricane Patricia, with winds of 215mph. Our climate is changing.

Happy New Year - may the next 12 months bring you joy, health, experiences that make you think and enable you to grow and memories that you can cherish. Today we have a short, impactful and wise post sent to me by Helen Amery; written while she was in hospital, accompanying her young daughter who had injured her arm. It is full of "heart" and acknowledges Life's highs and lows - hence it seems a perfect piece with which to start 2017.

Helen specialises in executive coaching and leadership development, via her own business, Wild Fig Solutions Limited. She is based in Leicester, but helps people and businesses across the UK. She writes an excellent blog - originally called People-ology but now hosted on her business Wild Fig site. After obtaining a good degree in Chemistry from Edinburgh, Helen commenced training as an accountant with PwC but then realised that she was better suited to HR. Before establishing her own consultancy, Helen worked for a number of years as a respected HR professional with Boots. She is active on social media and excellent at encouraging people to connect IRL (in real life) as well as online. Her twitter handle is @WildFigSoins.

***********************************************

These are not Hollow words

The heights of laughing with my daughter to the hollow of her in surgery and the words from the surgeon of 'we lost a pulse' (thankfully not forever). Extreme swelling and breaking of my heart in the space of a day.

The extreme height of excitement of a new baby for the family. The bottomless hollow when he didn't make it, complications during pregnancy. Heart swells and wrenches for months and years.*

Sculpture by artist Martin Hudáček from Slovakia
 in memorial of unborn children who have passed away.

The daily muddle of mini heights and hollows when things go ok and then less well, good and then bad. Short-lived but each as real as the next and every one of them influencing how we feel from moment to moment. 

Emotional scale devised by Abraham Hicks

We're all different, and how we experience our heights and hollows is different. But we all experience them and too many hollows for too long can take their toll.

Pay attention to yours.  Get the help you need when you need it.  Someone is always there - someone you know. Or maybe someone you've not spoken to yet.  But they're there.

If you need them, the Samaritans are always there - 116 123.

*Our friends' experience this year.