Dawning through the dark - Day 4

Day 4 (Wednesday 4th December 2018)

May the Fourth be with you

Today I am spending with my industry regulator undertaking what they describe as a "culture sprint". The intention is for us to devise ways in which we can make Financial Services an environment in which people feel comfortable speaking out when they are concerned and/or if they see something that should be stopped or changed.  Cultures of blame, fear and hierarchy are increasingly being proven to be harmful to all working within them and research shows that this is also true for customers, clients and the wider community. Perhaps my day ahead is what triggered me to post this piece, which was first seen in December last year. I know that the author has had a turbulent year full of change and challenge. The way she copes and the amount she achieves on behalf of and for others is inspiring. In accordance with this year's Advent Blog themes - I would like to award her a "High Five" - she has and is experiencing "Heartache" but there is "Hope" for the future.

She is extraordinarily caring - I should know because I have seen her in action: encouraging desperate children living on the streets in Uganda and supporting the staff trying to help them turn their lives around; doing mad things that she hates doing, in order to raise funds for the charities she supports (Retrak, Team Margot and the Anthony Nolan). I am also privileged to have her as part of my team and to see, on a daily basis, her skill in helping people learn and achieve their potential; she possesses and extraordinary ability to enhance individual lives. Her name is Donna Hewitson. Following a tough childhood, spending her teenage years in foster care, she came into HR when her talent with people was spotted whilst she was working in an operational role behind a bar. If you want to know more, read the article published in HR Magazine about her last November. Her career success is entirely due her own determination, natural skill and attitude. She is active on social media (her Twitter handle reflects her roots: @PubDonna). 

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This year has challenged me in ways I never expected. I have had to adapt, change and morph into the next incarnation of me; a bit like the new Doctor Who (I’ve never seen it, but I get the drift).

I have still not yet developed into the next person I need, or want, to be. But, I know what that will look like, and feel like, to me.

How do I see the person who saw out 2016? I see someone who was so focussed on filling the gap in their soul, it became all encompassing. Not “A” gap, “The” gap. It was deep, so deep-rooted, that I’m not sure if I truly knew who I was, or wanted to be. When I found myself in that space, I defaulted to the “it’ll be fine, it’s just a dip, it will get better.” It had to, didn’t it? What were my options otherwise?

September 2016 changed all that and guided me onto a new path, in a totally different direction, a path, on which, I can say I feel truly complete. Even if, at times, it feels like I’m travelling the wrong way up a one-way street.

My brain is odd. It is constantly going at a gazillion miles per hour; do this, sort that, always say yes and work out the “how” after. Always thinking “what next, what can I do bigger, bolder, stronger, better, how can I make my life, our life, better, what difference can I make to the world we live in?” If I got hit by a bus tomorrow, so what? That kind of stuff. It’s fair to say that it’s never a dull moment “up there”. But it weighs. Heavily. I spend so much of my time seeking to understand the troubles and challenges of others, and stretching myself to find a solution, that I forget about me. And then it comes. The dark descends, and it envelops all of me. 

But my face cannot change, I will not allow for others to see the impact of, metaphorically, the rocks I’ve been gifted weighing down the backpack I’m carrying. Then the mask slips and “ta da”, I find myself vulnerable with other people seeing the darker side of me.

I’m OK with that now. It’s important. With the best will in the world, maintaining the expected face all the time is a big old ask. Impossible.

I cried at work today. Twice. That’s OK. It’s also OK for other people to see me showing emotion. The reason for me being so emotional today? Someone showed, quite publicly, appreciation. I find this hard to accept. When I relayed to hubby, he immediately said WTF? You don’t cry. 16yrs we’ve been together, and he’s not seen “that face” often. This face I have suppressed for many years, but a wise and wonderful lady taught me it was, indeed, “cool to cry”.

Friends who know it's #CoolToCry

I am not a machine. I now express my emotions, I do speak freely, and directly (it’s not to everyone’s liking), I operate very efficiently and, for the most part, can keep my shit in check. There are times, however, when I am not able to. I don’t want to. I recognise this and I’m OK with it. It weirds me out, but I’m really thankful, for the first time in my life, I am able to me. Truly me.

I have many faces (thanks to Phil Willcox for educating me on this subject) and it is for me to choose which face I show. I can mask it, or share it. I choose the latter. The response from people who constantly tell me how strong I am, how inspirational my story is, the good I’m doing equal those people, who know me well, who express concern, tell me stop, slow down, take time for me.

What concerns me? I know it will not all be plain sailing and I’m sure that I will get burned sharing so much of me. I am vulnerable, I will be susceptible, and I will get turned over. I have spent years protecting myself and had built a fortress around my heart. 

It will take time to unpick, unlearn, re-learn and build confidence. I am thankful to have the most brilliant people around me, who trust me, believe in me and afford me the space to be me. All of me. The good, the great, the bad and the downright shite. How I respond, and not react, will make the difference of whether I see the start of the darkness descending or the beginning of a new dawn.

Nina Simone singing "Feeling Good"

A dawning through the dark - Day 13

Day 13 (Wednesday 13th December 2017)

13 is known as a "Baker's Dozen". 
There is a traditional festive tale, originating in Dutch colonial New York, 
about Van Amsterdam the baker, famous for his honesty and his St Nicholas cookies.
However, he was pedantic - giving customers exactly what they asked for, nothing more and 
nothing less. He is cursed by a crone for declining to give her 13 cookies when she requested
a dozen on St Nicholas' feast day. Over a year his business dwindles and fails. However, after dreaming 
of St Nicholas' generosity and a further visit from the crone, the baker mends his ways and 
from henceforth gives 13 cookies when asked for a dozen. Other bakers emulated him and hence the 
"Baker's Dozen" became a term. The phrase "Baker's Dozen" actually originates from medieval law 
that specified the weight of loaves, to avoid punishment bakers would offer an extra loaf to ensure that t
he required weight was met. Illustration by Wendy Edelson in "The Baker's Dozen: A Saint Nicholas Tale"

I had an amazing day yesterday - a day of personal learning about myself and others followed by chairing a Committee on Quality of Patient Care and patient, community and worker Engagement in London. The evening was humbling, hearing how the staff and medical professionals at two of London's leading hospitals (and the wider Trust of which they are part) are raising standards and rising to the challenges of the current environment - cash is tight, patient numbers are increasing, the pressure on people working at the Trust is immense, and yet they remain constant, focused and dedicated to providing appropriate care for those in need. An example to us all.

Today's blogger is also extraordinarily caring - I should know because I have seen her in action: encouraging desperate children living on the streets in Uganda and supporting the staff trying to help them turn their lives around; doing mad things that she hates doing, in order to raise funds for the charities she supports (Retrak, Team Margot and the Anthony Nolan). I am also privileged to have her as part of my team and to see, on a daily basis, her skill in helping people learn and achieve their potential, and her ability to enhance individual lives. Her name is Donna Hewitson. Following a tough childhood, spending her teenage years in foster care, she came into HR when her talent with people was spotted whilst she was working in an operational role behind a bar. If you want to know more, read the article published in HR Magazine about her this November. Her career success is entirely due her own determination, natural skill and attitude. She is active on social media (her Twitter handle reflects her roots: @PubDonna) and she writes an excellent blog: PubDonna.com. 

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

This year has challenged me in ways I never expected. I have had to adapt, change and morph into the next incarnation of me; a bit like the new Doctor Who (I’ve never seen it, but I get the drift).

I have still not yet developed into the next person I need, or want, to be. But, I know what that will look like, and feel like, to me.

How do I see the person who saw out 2016? I see someone who was so focussed on filling the gap in their soul, it became all encompassing. Not “A” gap, “The” gap. It was deep, so deep-rooted, that I’m not sure if I truly knew who I was, or wanted to be. When I found myself in that space, I defaulted to the “it’ll be fine, it’s just a dip, it will get better.” It had to, didn’t it? What were my options otherwise?

September 2016 changed all that and guided me onto a new path, in a totally different direction, a path, on which, I can say I feel truly complete. Even if, at times, it feels like I’m travelling the wrong way up a one-way street.

My brain is odd. It is constantly going at a gazillion miles per hour; do this, sort that, always say yes and work out the “how” after. Always thinking “what next, what can I do bigger, bolder, stronger, better, how can I make my life, our life, better, what difference can I make to the world we live in?” If I got hit by a bus tomorrow, so what? That kind of stuff. It’s fair to say that it’s never a dull moment “up there”. But it weighs. Heavily. I spend so much of my time seeking to understand the troubles and challenges of others, and stretching myself to find a solution, that I forget about me. And then it comes. The dark descends, and it envelops all of me. 

But my face cannot change, I will not allow for others to see the impact of, metaphorically, the rocks I’ve been gifted weighing down the backpack I’m carrying. Then the mask slips and “ta da”, I find myself vulnerable with other people seeing the darker side of me.

I’m OK with that now. It’s important. With the best will in the world, maintaining the expected face all the time is a big old ask. Impossible.

I cried at work today. Twice. That’s OK. It’s also OK for other people to see me showing emotion. The reason for me being so emotional today? Someone showed, quite publicly, appreciation. I find this hard to accept. When I relayed to hubby, he immediately said WTF? You don’t cry. 16yrs we’ve been together, and he’s not seen “that face” often. This face I have suppressed for many years, but a wise and wonderful lady taught me it was, indeed, “cool to cry”.

Friends who know it's #CoolToCry

I am not a machine. I now express my emotions, I do speak freely, and directly (it’s not to everyone’s liking), I operate very efficiently and, for the most part, can keep my shit in check. There are times, however, when I am not able to. I don’t want to. I recognise this and I’m OK with it. It weirds me out, but I’m really thankful, for the first time in my life, I am able to me. Truly me.

I have many faces (thanks to Phil Willcox for educating me on this subject) and it is for me to choose which face I show. I can mask it, or share it. I choose the latter. The response from people who constantly tell me how strong I am, how inspirational my story is, the good I’m doing equal those people, who know me well, who express concern, tell me stop, slow down, take time for me.

What concerns me? I know it will not all be plain sailing and I’m sure that I will get burned sharing so much of me. I am vulnerable, I will be susceptible, and I will get turned over. I have spent years protecting myself and had built a fortress around my heart. 

It will take time to unpick, unlearn, re-learn and build confidence. I am thankful to have the most brilliant people around me, who trust me, believe in me and afford me the space to be me. All of me. The good, the great, the bad and the downright shite. How I respond, and not react, will make the difference of whether I see the start of the darkness descending or the beginning of a new dawn.

Nina Simone singing "Feeling Good"

Voices in my head

Day 39 (Sunday 8th January 2017)

39 - the number of years since Carrie Fisher appeared in the first Star Wars film.
She played the role of Princess Leia with a combinations of grit and wit - much
in the way that she approached her wider life. In addition to being an actress
she was a writer, producer and humorous commentator, as well as a candid voice on
what it is like to be an addict and a sufferer of various mental health issues.
Carrie Fisher died on December 27th 2016, 4 days after experiencing a medical emergency on
a cross-Atlantic flight. Her mother, the actress and film star Debbie Reynolds, died the following day.

It's a whole week since those New Year's celebrations - how are your resolutions holding? 

Today's post comes to us from Switzerland. It is written by the lovely Sara Wyke who lives in Geneva with her family and is able to take a boat to work across the lake to Lausanne every day (I am very jealous). She is a Learning and Development specialist for Frontiers, the open-access academic publisher specialising in scientific peer and post publication reviews, established by scientists, in 2007, as a spin-off from the École Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne.

Sara, who is British, is married to a wonderful Belgian fellow and they have two daughters, whom she refers to as Tiny and Bean. Sara studied Environmental Studies and Psychology at university in the UK. She remains interested in others and the world. She is active on social media and can be found on Twitter under a simple "Sara", her handle is @TeenyTinyBean.

I have added a couple of illustrations, but all of the photographs have been supplied by Sara.

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Voices in my head

I like a challenge. It really helps me focus, and I love the feeling of achievement when I accomplish something.

This year, I was looking for a challenge, something to take my focus off a job that had become more draining than enjoyable. Over the last few years I have taken to cycling around the lake as my yearly challenge with my friend Andrew. It's a big stretch for me to cycle 170km in a single day, especially considering that I don't do that much training to be in peak shape. This year I wanted something different, I wanted some space for myself. I don't like to think of myself as selfish, but this year I really wanted to focus on me.

I had loved reading and watching Wild byCheryl Strayed, and played by Reese Witherspoon. Like many people who enjoyed the story, I pictured myself doing a similar  adventure, but could not imagine being away from my family for so long, let alone the financial cost, since I am the main breadwinner. So I turned to more books for inspiration, next came the Hairy Hikers trek from the Atlanticto the Mediterranean along the Pyrenees. I thoroughly enjoyed David Le Vay's easy prose, and klutzy travel story. I noted with joy, that he had done a second book and quickly bought and devoured that story.

This was my challenge, I had found it, the Tour du Mont Blanc hiking around Mont Blanc.

It was a big enough challenge, hell it was a huge challenge for me. I dabbled in some hiking, having been dragged along with my parents through my teenage years. But this was for me, all of this was for me. I was going to hike alone, and the wrong way round just to ensure that I was alone rather than falling into step with other hikers.

Why the huge desire to go it alone? well I think I have always been a people pleaser, and it is exhausting. At work I rarely said no, I don't think I knew what limits were. I never understood people who said something was out of their scope... I get it now. So at work I was exhausted from always being switched "on", constantly trying to put my best face on, even in tough times. Then at home with Tiny & Bean I would always try to keep them happy, doing whatever I thought was the "right" thing. You see, the thing is, I've had some tough times in the last 2 years. Now I don't want this to be a sob story, but to be frank I had a burn out in the summer of 2015, and 2016 was looking like it could head the same way if I didn't do something about it.

So the hike was my time to be alone, focus on me, and not have to please anyone else.

I loved the planning stage of this challenge, I think I listened to the hairy hikers about 15 times in a few months, David Le Vay's soothing voice filling my ears as I drove to work. Sometimes It was the only thing I looked forward to about going to work, and, looking back, that should have been a huge warning. I started telling people about my idea in May, but it wasn't until June that I really started to believe this would happen. I booked the time off work, and gosh was that needed. My Fab hubby would take Tiny & Bean up to Belgium for the week I was away, but asked "could you be back on Monday?". This didn't seem to faze me, perhaps it should have done since it meant me doing the hike in 9 days instead of the usual 12 recommended in the guide books.

I booked my accommodation each night, I planned my route in detail, gathered my equipment and looked forward with a fluttering tummy. I decided to raise money for Mind with the hike, but I honestly didn’t put much effort into fundraising (We are Mind). When the day arrived, I sat in the car at the starting point about 2 hours' drive from home and asked myself if I was really going to do this? "Hell yes!" came back the answer loud and clear so out I got, loaded up my rucksack, and hit the trail.

I walked. In low cloud on the first day, then in shining sun and blistering wind. I crossed streams, rock fields and snow (once on hands and knees, but that's a whole other story!). I did meet people, lovely people, either crossing paths or at the refuges in the evening. I was slow, often being the last person to arrive at the shelter at night. I injured my knee early on and this made the walking both slow and painful, especially downhill, but it didn't stop me.  One particular night I arrived where I had planned to sleep, only to be told the hostel had closed down and the next place was another hour away. It was already nearly 9pm and dusk was falling. I cried, the only tears of the trip. But then I asked myself "What are you going to do? Sleep in the open?" and again the answer was loud and clear "Get Walking now!"; I hiked as fast as I could that evening. Arriving at the refuge in Bionnassay at 9.15pm and laughed with pure relief. The beer that night was the best.

The last day was the longest day ever. It was the world cup final and I wanted to arrive in time to watch and relax. I hadn't counted on the double mountain pass, as well as the injured knee, slowing me down. I hiked. I hiked. I hiked. Evening was closing in, I was back in Switzerland now, and the final stretch. Except the snow had been late this year, and so, even though it was July, the snow melt was swelling all the streams that cascade down the mountains. My path was covered in streams that should have been dry by now. Instead they were torrents that I needed to cover, hopping from rock to rock. The sunlight fading, my knee in agony, fatigue filling my body. There were no villages that I could stop in and add an extra night. A dreaded the thought of me slipping in one of these streams, gashing my leg, breaking a bone or 2. What would happen to me then? All alone? My voice came back louder this time, "KEEP GOING, You can do this". So I kept going, it was long, it felt like the longest day of my life.

I arrived back at the start point at 10.30pm and slept in my car that night, after watching the second half of the football. It was the most comfortable bed of the adventure.

It is now December, and I have a new challenge ahead, an exciting new job building the L&D and HR function in a fast growing start-up, ready for the next stage of growth. Looking back I realise that during my long hike, for all my efforts to be alone, I was not. I had a strong, determined, resourceful woman with me the whole way, all I had to do was listen to my own voice.

9 days

172km

376,010 steps