Here. Now. - Day 8

Day 8 (Saturday 8th December)

Eight is a rowing class recognised by the International Rowing Federation and is the
term for a rowing boat, propelled by eight oarsmen and steered by a cox, used in competitive sports.
Rowing started as a means of transport and progressed into a sport - its modern form was developed
in England in the 1700s. It is an amateur sport and an Olympic event. When Pierre de Coubertin
created the Modern Olympics, he modelled the International Olympic Committee on the
Henley Stewards. The stewards organise the Henley Royal Regatta, one of rowing's most prestigious events.
I was Captain and stroke of our crew at University but have also rowed bow and been a cox.

Normal service is slowly resuming at my end and as a result I am delighted to commence posting Advent Blogs that have been crafted specifically for us for this year. And what a cracker today is - especially for me, as it shows that there is light ahead and that emotional objectives can be achieved. I am grateful to people who have been so understanding to me in my current dejection. I am not ready to share on here as the situation I find myself in is not about me but hurts those I love and care about. Perhaps this is why I love today's post so much - it is all about love, emotions, self-awareness and finding happiness and contentment.. 

It is my good fortune that is the first blog I received for the 2018 season - as you know, the theme for this year is "Heartaches, Hopes and High Fives". It is an honest piece of self-reflection and an enjoyable read. I suspect that its words will resonate with many of us and I hope it raises a smile. Its author is Phil Marsland who, after a very successful career in HR, now runs a Leadership and HR consultancy, Blue Tree. Over the years I have got to know Phil - he is pragmatic and values driven with a dry sense of humour. He is active on social media, particularly Twitter where he tweets under his own name @FulfordPhil and also under his business' @BlueTreePhil. Phil is 

supportive and caring and does much to promote the HR profession 

as a mentor and speaker. 

He founded ConnectingHR York in 2015 and it is a thriving a vibrant 

community.

As well as his passion for people, Phil loves music (and by love I really do mean love - it is his third space). He is also a keen fan of Manchester City Football Club. Although, perhaps the thing that drives Phil most (other than his devotion for his family) is his love of learning.

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I normally write when emotions are high. The words just pour out, often getting published unedited, unexpurgated.

The process for this year's Advent blog has been harder.

I've been thinking about why that is, and I think I know.

I'm currently calmer, happier, possibly the happiest I've ever been since I got keys, responsibilities and bills.

Here's the kicker. It won't stay like that. It never does. I've always fluctuated, wobbled, rocked. Been forever in search of balance. Getting stuff wrong.

Prioritising work - whatever the hell that is?! - over family. Getting too attached to work, and people there. Too emotional, too passionate, too irrational and unreasonable. It's probably just me. Probably just how I am. I have peaks and troughs.

I have peaked at various things. Got really really good, then a bit bored, then look for something else. Don't get me wrong, I've never been world class at anything. But I've won stuff, captained teams, won tournaments, won cruises.

I think flow works for me as a wave. My peaks are better than most people. I excel at focus and intensity and real insight. But I can't hold it there, I have to crash down. Slump in my music room with a beer. Reflecting. Recovering.

It's taken me a half century of actual years, and probably a few decades less in conscious years to realise this stuff about me.

In the intervening haphazard-stumbling through life, I have coped less well. Been sharp verbally, been uncompromising, unreasonable. Pushed folk away. Felt lost, felt lonely. And wanted people and contact.

So 'Happy' is something of an undiscovered country for me, until recently.

10 years ago I set myself 3 objectives:

• to be happy
• for Chris to be happy
• for the kids to be happy and have rewarding and fulfilling childhoods and the best possible start in life

We've got there... through risk and uncertainty.

And now I want for nothing. Not fancy clothes, possessions or holidays. I've done all that. For me, I don't want anything more. And in this state I'm loving music, mates, family time, footy and a beer or two. All of this is gravy.

And we all know that Northern boys love gravy.

PS this is the first draft, unedited.

A Cheeky Little Smile and a Work Life Balance - Day 8

Day 8 (Friday 8th December 2017)

Eight reindeer pull Father Christmas' sleigh, according to the
1823 poem, Clement C. Moore "A Visit from St. Nicholas"(also known as"Twas the Night
Before Christmas". Their names are: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Dunder
(variously spelled Donder and Donner), and Blixem (variously spelled Blixen and Blitzen), with Rudolph being a 20th-century inclusion.Reindeer can run at speeds of up to 48 mph (Usain Bolt ran at 27 mph).
Illustration by Scott Gustafson

Wow that first week has passed swiftly. We are having our team Christmas lunch today (yes I know it's a bit early, but some of the team are going away for a few weeks and so it makes sense to meet up now, while we are all still around). I wonder what Secret Santa will bring me. I love this time of year: the sparkle, surprises, smiles and generosity (more of spirit than of gifts).

Today's piece should raise a smile. It is always a joy to read about personal transformation based on values and who doesn't love a happy ending? It is written by Craig Kaye, who works as an L&D specialist for the charity Addaction, one of the largest Public Health Services across Substance Misuse, Mental Health, Young Persons, Safeguarding and Criminal Justice Sectors. He studied Criminal Psychology at university. He is active on social media (his Twitter handle is @TheCraigKaye ) and occasionally he adds pieces to his fine blog, also called theCraigKaye. Craig, as you will see from below, is a keen football player. He is also interested in Science, Politics, global affairs and things that make the world (and the people within it) tick.

NB All the colour illustrations were selected by Craig.

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As I sit on the 8 hour train journey from St. Helens, Merseyside to Truro, Cornwall I thought I would use this time to make a contribution to Kate Griffiths-Lambeth’s (@KateGL's) Advent Blog Series. With the title of Darkness and Dawn I had the intention to write about: Trumpism, then Brexit and give an anthropological, objective view of why society has decided to take these long lasting political decisions. I'm very, very passionate about decision making processes and behaviouralism, so this initially appeared a really interesting opportunity to air my observations - but would I class this as being in a personal category of darkness and dawn .......... 

The answer is ‘no’ - I want this blog to have more internal, meaningful resonance!! 

So, as I depart Birmingham New Street, my thoughts instantly turn to being a father to our two year only little monkey Oscar Kaye - and the contrast between the person sitting on the train writing this blog and the one of three years ago - this sounds deep. 

Three years ago, I would class myself as first and foremost a loyal husband, however what came next where two personal obsessions of mine: ‘work’ and ‘football.’ 

Firstly, ‘Work’ - prior to joining, in my personal opinion, one of the best Learning and Development Departments money can buy for quality, enthusiasm and professional insight, I was a Manager involved in a service working directly with ‘Vulnerable Adults and their Families.’ When I wasn't working in the office, I was working at home, when I was on annual leave I'd always have my work phone accessible - just in case someone needed my professional guidance or a decision which needed to be made. Yes, I'm putting my hand up - not only was I a careerist but also identified with the term Presenteeism. I didn't wish to take annual leave, just in case a decision was made in my absence and didn't wish to take a day off poorly in case this affected my chances of a promotion. 

Then ‘Football’ - The above amount of work needed its own avenue of stress release, I had been playing football since I can remember and three years ago was easily playing up to five times per week with various teams, friends and work colleagues. If a match at the weekend was called off I'd have a little sulk to myself, if something else occurred, e.g. being injured or feeling poorly, this didn't not matter one inch, my football boots were still going on my feet, eager in anticipation to walk on to the green turf.

Then on the 19th November 2015, a cheeky little monkey, weighing in at only 5lbs was placed in my arms. I still vividly remember his little baby-blue Winnie The Pooh Cotton Hat and Gloves and he made no more than a tiny squeak whenever he wanted a few mls of ready-made milk formula.

What followed, due to complications very much not spoken about in pregnancy, meant remaining in the hospital for an additional four weeks due to his amazing mum's health. You don't really see it in the soaps, I assumed prior to then that we would be in and out with enough time to catch the end of the match and the start of the new series of ‘I'm a Celebrity Get Me Outta Here.’ - we weren't!

A vast number of people told the Craig of three years ago, that having a baby is the biggest life-changing moment in your life, I gave the usual smile and nod without paying it too much notice.

‘What do they know?’ I thought to myself. ‘I manage my time brilliantly, it won't change my beliefs, views or attitudes that much’ I reflected at the time - it does!

I started my new role in Learning and Development in January 2016, based from home. Some can struggle with not working in close proximity with colleagues and no office politics or banter. I very much do not, I have someone working next to me with a cheeky little smile and day by day watching him develop into a confident and happy little toddler who loves nothing more than to get his hands on Penguin Chocolate Cake Bars and to play Hide and Seek behind Daddy's Office Door.

What happened to me in November 2015 was that, before any thought process I had, I weighed up what Oscar needed first. Seeing him and his Mother smile became my primary goal, not work, not football but both their health and happiness and seeing the slightest progress in his emotional or physical development filled me with more joy than a promotion or scoring any goal could.

What's more is that my new role placed a strong emphasis on a healthy work / life balance, personal and professional development through expert coaching and internal opportunities as well as a team who all have such strong specialisms it can only make you even better at what you do when in their presence.

As I reflect over the last year or two and losing my careerism and presenteeism where I would beat myself up if I wasn't the best at everything I did either in work or on the football pitch, I have become a far more skilled, empathic and resilient professional than I ever was pre-2015 and my goal scoring record is actually better too!

I'm incredibly thankful to my Wife and Son for helping me become the incredibly happy person writing this blog, my Manager and Team in Learning and Development who help me become a stronger, more confident professional and my friends and family who regularly listen to my rants about such topics as: Politics, Science, Football Results and Social Injustice.

And a massive thank you for spending the time reading the above!!!!

Craig

Day 13 - Christmas Comet Fragments

Day 13 (Sunday 13th December 2015)

13 stripes on the flag of the United States of America represent the 13 original British colonies
that declared independence from Great Britain and became the first states of the Union.
The American flag has been modified officially 26 times since 1777, most recently in July 1960
when it gained its 50th star. The stars represent the current states in the Union.
Above illustration shows some of the forms of the flag over the years.

Today's festive and love-filled post is by the ever popular Mat Davies. Mat is a highly respected international HR Director, a proud Welshman and a valued friend/colleague. He is passionate about music, rugby, books, technology and connecting. You can follow him on Twitter (his handle is @RafaDavies). You can get a feel for the subjects that matter to him within the work environment from his Somewhere posts or else catch up with him at a Tweet-up.

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Are you hanging up your stocking on the wall? I’m fairly certain that you know that this is the time when every Santa has a ball. So here it is, Merry Christmas, everybody is having fun, looking to the future now it’s only just begun. Christmas. I love it. The older, but not necessarily wiser, that I have got, I’ve learned to cherish this time; not just the day itself but the anticipation of the day; the reflection that Boxing Day  brings; the days between Christmas and the New Year where days seem to go on for ever. Christmas, though, is all about the love.

I love the smell of my mother’s kitchen on Christmas Eve, the roasting turkey, the perfumed scent of peeled satsumas and earthy joy of cracked Brazil nuts; I love how TIDY her home is and how everything is dusted to within an inch of its life because you never know who’s going to come round now, do you? I love the whispered opening of a bottle of something red and mellifluous; the Christmas eve gathering with our best friends in the cricket club to sing carols really badly but not really care; to re-tell jokes and play schoolyard pranks like we’re sixteen again; the embarrassed recognition that you’ve drifted into talking about house prices and kids in schools rather than your records and films of the year which you quickly deal with because your aren’t that old or that boring; the faint recognition that sat across the room is your old English teacher isn’t it? And then you recognise that, no, that’s your actual class mate, someone you once snogged at the school disco- Lisa? Claire? Sarah, it was Sarah. An embarrassed smile and an acknowledgement of each other’s presence and then a quick retreat to the discussion of how hard it has been to buy stuff this year, much harder than last year and collective agreement of how spoiled kids are these days compared to when you were a child. You were delighted to get a Terry’s chocolate orange - if you were lucky - 

and you were happier playing with the cardboard box that the toy came in as opposed to the toy itself and did you see the price of that Star Wars game? I know, but I got a great deal at the Big Tesco’s- always go to the BIG Tesco’s. I love the cheeky round of a spirit that you never ever drink - but, well, it’s Christmas isn’t it?- and marvelling at the shape of the bottle and the label and wondering what it’s doing to your insides but it’s Christmas isn’t it? You’ll be fine in the morning, honest.

I love the walk home from the club and the fond late night farewells and have-a-great-day-tomorrows, fuelled by drink and nostalgia and bonhomie. I love the late night whisky back at home and the repeat of Carols from Kings and Jimmy Stewart reminding us of why it’s still a wonderful life and listening to the silence descend in the street; reflecting on which kids are going to get a bike from Santa because a bike is just the best present, isn’t it? Yes, yes it is. I love getting into bed and feeling that warm glow of love and togetherness. And Mam, you better have put my stocking up, just in case Santa comes, because although I know he probably doesn’t exist a little bit of me would like to think that he did.

I love waking early in the morning, when the rest of the house is asleep and the acute stillness makes it feel like the rest of the world is asleep; I love those quiet few pregnant moments of reflection of how we’ve come to another Christmas Day and just about survived ; I love hot tea and toast and putting on the radio and agreeing wholeheartedly with Roy Wood’s Wizzard about the wish for it to be Christmas every day and then, as always, wondering just how underrated Slade were, as Noddy Holder and co bellow in my ear.

I love the tearing of wrapping paper; the imaginary dusting off of the dust jacket on a brand new book as if it were a relic from Raiders of the Lost Ark; the arrival of my brother as if some returning boxing legend to the ring - I have arrived you may now commence the festivities; the unspoken acknowledgement that we probably won’t buy sprouts next year, knowing full well that we will, even though no one likes them; the debate about whether or not it’s white or red with the festive bird, but not really caring too much after the first glass or two; 

the remembrance of friends and families who can’t join the festive throng; of grandparents and cousins and uncles and crazy, white-wine-fuelled aunts with too much make-up and too much gossip about Diane and the affair with postman or was it the police officer; no, the postman, that’s him; the strict adherence to watching the Queen’s message to the Commonwealth, even though it gets trailed days in advance and you still cannot recall a single word of it an hour later but still, it’s HER MAJESTY.

I love the swapping of the presents and the sheer joy of finding the one that they really wanted and watching the gritted teeth of these ones that, you shouldn’t have (no, really, you shouldn’t have); I love the walk after lunch - and you’re hoping for a cold winter’s day but it’s drizzle raining again and you’ve got on the jumper that you will never wear again and you’re back home for a cuppa saying Merry Christmas to the neighbour you haven’t really spoken to for a year but wondering how the kids were doing in school and, they can’t already be doing their GCSEs already can they?

I love the Christmas TV specials, the Christmas ghost stories, the repeats of Dickens but, like every year, there’s simply NOTHING on TV, although you never switch it off and is this the 1984 Top of the Pops ? - how young does Paul Young look?; wondering whether the BBC’s Huw Edwards has drawn the short straw and gets to do the news broadcast and wondering whether he can get home to Llanelli to see his mam; which of the holiday companies will be the first to get their advert in, imploring you to book a villa in the sun whilst you’re gorging on After Eight mints and Cadbury’s Heroes; laying casual side bets about how long it will take for the arguments to start in EastEnders and falling asleep before it even starts.

I love that we have cold turkey sandwiches with pickles and cheese; to pretend to be Victorian families by decanting the port, even though we don’t have a port decanter but, it’s Christmas isn’t it? I love that for a small moment there very genuinely is peace and goodwill to all on the day that seems to last forever but doesn’t ever last long enough. 

Merry Christmas.