What still remains - Day 31 (New Year's Eve)

Day 31 (Sunday 31st December, New Year's Eve 2017)

31 December is known as Hogmanay in Scotland and is a night of celebrations
that have become famous around the world. Many view Hogmanay as a bigger
party than Christmas. It is thought that the word originates from the French
"hoginane" meaning gala day and was first used in 1561 on the return of Mary
Queen of Scots to Scotland. At that time, in Normandy, presents given at
Hogmanay were "hoguinetes'. An alternative derivation of the word is the
Scandinavian "hoggo-nott" meaning yule. A tradition linked to Hogmanay is
"first footing" - the first guest to cross your threshold after midnight - it should
be a tall, dark stranger (to Scots many years ago the surprise arrival of a blond
often signified a dangerous Viking trying to cause harm). A first footer should
bring gifts of coal (for heat), rich fruit cake known as Black Bun (for food for
the year), salt (a symbol of friendship), and whisky (for good cheer and hospitality).

It's the last day of the year. Happy Hogmanay! I have had a memorable year - full of precious moments shared with loved ones, new colleagues and friends coming to help me do things I need and want to do, some recognition (which is much appreciated) and visits to amazing places and events. I know that I am fortunate. I hope that you have been too.

The start of a New Year is seldom dark and dull and the year ahead does not have to be dark either - as David D'Souza points out in his post below. 

I am fortunate to have had David as a colleague and to have him as a friend. He is a true polymath, with a thirst for learning and a passion for positive innovation (especially technology - his latest fascination is cryptocurrencies). David is globally recognised as a thought-leader who is not afraid to challenge the status quo. You can get a taste of his views if you follow him on Twitter (his handle is @dds180). He is a devoted husband and father and a loyal friend (although, as Head of Engagement for the CIPD, a job that takes him around the globe, he is so busy that he is seldom able to spend the time he and others would like have with him just to catch up and connect). I strongly recommend that you read his blogs, he writes his own under banner on 101 Half Connected Things and also posts pieces often on behalf of the CIPD (the UK-based professional body for HR and Leading and Development professionals).

Because of the personal nature of this post I have not added any pictures - the photograph was provided by David.

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"In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains"
The Boxer, Simon and Garfunkel, 1969

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There are some years that are better than others. There are some years that are definitely worse. The relatively arbitrary unit of the year gives us a chance to reflect and renew. Why January 1st? It doesn't really matter.  Our lives are made up of these little units. They actually seem big units when we are young and then they seem to rush by, barely allowing us time to process their impact.

I remember listening to The Boxer by Simon And Garfunkel being played live on an acoustic guitar in a vineyard in South Africa. My late mother was drunk. She would have said she was tipsy. She was certainly tipsy enough to be drunk... She was conducting a crowd of strangers in making the distinctive noise heard in the latter parts of the song. Everybody was grinning.

Wikipedia describes the creation of that distinctive noise in the original recording thus

"The iconic crashing sound in the refrain was recorded by setting up a drum kit in front of an elevator shaft, which provided the proper reverb"

That seems a very elaborate set up when all you had to do to create that noise was give my mum a bottle and a half of white wine and some sunshine.

I can't listen to that song now without it being bittersweet. Google Photos threw up photos from that day recently as part of its 'do you remember this happened on this day?' type function. A function that can still catch me unawares, but that I don't turn off. 

I recall my mother on that day smiling. Grinning.  All Google can offer me is this photo of her with her 'if you take a photo of me you'll be in trouble' face. I was also very familiar with that. 

Anyway, I digress...

The point is that the memory both hurts and cheers. That will be true of so many memories for people of this year. It's been a tough one for many. 

We are shaped by our past and our experiences, but also by those experiences yet to come. The past does not determine the future unless you let it.  And we have control over the here and now and how we react. 

As people get set to write their resolutions for the New Year they will focus on diets and budgets or spending time with others. 

Here is what I hope you resolve. 

Let it be a genuinely New Year. Let it be unencumbered by the weight of past memories. Let it be a new day and a welcome dawn. Take with you into the next year the things you want and need and none of the things that hold you back. Shape the future, rather than being anchored in the past. Have the year you want. And if it doesn't turn out that way, well, there's normally another one in a few months. 

It's a whole new arbitrary unit to make the most of. That's a beautiful creation, one of our best inventions.

Finding Philosophy in Unexpected places

Day 34 (Tuesday 3rd January 2017)

34% of women business owners say they have experienced gender discrimination in the
workplace. This was felt particularly in sectors that are traditionally male dominated -
such as construction, where over half (54%) had experienced discrimination according to the
report ‘Women in Enterprise: The Untapped Potential’ published on 21st April 2016.  Another
discouraging 34% figure relating to women is that 34% of women with a health problem
or disability had experienced violence by a partner in their lifetime, compared to
19% of women without a health problem of disability according to the results
of an EU survey, published in March 2016. NB cartoon is by Clay Bennett

I suspect today is the first day back to work for many of you (me included) - I hope 2017 proves an exceptionally good year in every way, both at work in in your broader life. I look forward to sharing moments of it with you. The holidays may be over, but the blog series continues and we have some excellent posts yet to come, today's is one of them...

Written by Angela Mortimer, the trailblazing doyenne of the recruitment industry and founder of Angela Mortimer plc, which she established forty years ago with a secretarial recruitment business based in London (in 1976). Angela is an extraordinary entrepreneur and a highly successful business woman. She grew her group during a time when most women were expected to be in lowly administrative roles and when there were very few senior women working in recruitment. Over the decades she has inspired, mentored and opened career opportunities for hundreds of thousands of women (and men). 

I am fortunate in that, over the years, I have become friends with Angela - she is delightful company, with a swift wit and a sharp intellect. A good person to bounce ideas off, as she is commercial, pragmatic, emotionally intelligent and fun. She writes excellent, entertaining blogs on LinkedIn and can be found on Twitter (her handle is @AngelaMortimer3). She has many interests outside work that provide some of the "heights" of her year (as you can tell from her below post); in addition to golf, she loves tennis, fine food and wine, skiing and being a great grandma. 

Being told she needed to improve at golf could have counted as a "hollow", but Angela has taken "heart" and gained much from the lesson.

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Finding Philosophy in Unexpected places

So there I was, hounding my way through last years Christmas card list to see who still qualified and adding new qualifiers.  Yesterday had been an mêlée of shopping, anxiety attached to each purchase – would they like it?  Then the food for the festivities, and feeling sick at the thought of a poor outcome from the recipes researched on Google.  When will the agony of possible anticipated failure end?  At least that is one certainty – not before 28th December.

To relive my tension, I visited my golf coach, Lucinda, to cash in springtime Birthday Treat from my girlfriends. My newly purchased driver was sending the ball for many yards but a puzzling 30 degrees wide of target.  She videoed my swing and came out with a diagnostic which was to prove apocryphal.

“You’ve got a weak grip,” she said.  She handed me a rubber mould that corrected my finger and thumb positions.  “That’s the correct grip and you've got to practice.  You’ve got to practice your grip”.

And that was it - as simple as that, my ah-ha moment.  My golf pro is unexpectedly a philosopher too.  What I learned at my golf lesson I must apply to the rest of my life and certainly my build up to Christmas.  I’ve got to get a grip, correct my grip and practice my grip, in preparation for the festive season. 

It’s the only way to enjoy and celebrate the good things, family and friends we are fortunate to have – and stop flipping worrying about the unimportant.

As this is being published early in 2017 - Happy New Year Everyone

High Five!
(Gecko foot has tiny hairs that exploit electrostatic attractive forces, called
van der Waals forces, for temporary adhesion. Scientists are proposing
using a similar approach to trap space debris.)

“A modern Nativity the old fashioned way” (aka “Ostentatious Over-Sharings of a Smug Git”)

Day 17 (Saturday 17th December 2016)

17 thousand solar cells on the wings of Solar Impulse 2

enabled it to achieve its record making fossil-fuel-free flight

around the globe. It has a wider wingspan than a Boeing 747.

The journey started on 9th March 2015 and was completed on

26th July 2016 when it arrived back in Abu Dhabi.

We have reached the weekend and, even though I suspect that you have a busy day ahead of you, I hope you find time to read today's post and perhaps catch up on ones that you have missed or merit a re-read. I am sure you will agree with me that the blogs so far have been extraordinary; today's is no exception. Jo Mortimer, one of the UK's leading recruitment experts, specialising in administrative and office roles is a Divisional Leader at the highly regarded Angela Mortimer Group. Jo can be found on Twitter, her handle is @J0Mortimer. Jo has a 1st class degree in Psychology from Cambridge and has retained an interest in questioning the world and the people around her. She is well-travelled and engaging company. A Buddhist, she practices Taoist Tai Chi. She has an excellent voice (singing folk and as part of a capella group). Jo is a feminist, as you will be able to tell from her post.

Jo has written a very personal post influenced by a significant high during her past 12 months: the birth of her daughter. She also, deliberately, raises a number of topics that are not often discussed or even are considered taboo in our western society.

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“A modern Nativity the old fashioned way”

(aka “Ostentatious Over-Sharings of a Smug Git”)

Around this time last year, an eagerly anticipated event came upon us – the birth of our daughter.

It was beautiful, though not in conventional Hollywood terms. Like all newborns, her grey skin was more “Shaun of the Dead” than “Casa Blanca”. I’ll spare you the analysis of bodily fluids in the birthing pool.

Image: Shaun of the Dead, Dir: Edgar Wright, 2004

But the process of giving birth really was beautiful – one of the greatest highs of my life. Not just the “phew it’s all over and we have a baby” bit, the whole experience. And that’s an unusual thing for a woman to say.

Why?

At this point, I get on my feminist high horse.

In modern history, patriarchal society has, I contend, embraced an image of the weak and helpless woman, feeling faint in a corset and heels (this is not a bygone era – remember Nicola Thorp, the receptionist sent home from PwC earlier this year for not wearing heels?). Such delicate and lovely creatures cannot be expected to do, well, hard labour.

Image sourced from www.marriedtothesea.com

Enter the men in white coats with their trusty sidekick, technology.

“Lie on your back my dear while we strap you to this recording device, give you pain relief rendering you immobile and then inevitably have to cut you in some way to wrench the poor grey specimen out of you.”

This is the prevailing model of first world childbirth, talked about by new mothers ad nauseam. The competition for top horror story makes “Rosemary’s Baby” look like “Toy Story 2”.

Rosemary’s Baby, Roman Polanski, 1968

And women with a positive birth story can hardly speak up at these coffee meets. Rule number 1 of the playground: when you’re making new friends, try not to be the smug git. So women with positive birth stories remain the silent. This does all women a disservice.

It takes courage to step outside the prevailing paradigm. I came under pressure from the well-meaning family to have a hospital birth. This was motivated by loving concern for our welfare, and in the context of the modern norm is understandable.

But taking control of your choices is key to ensuring that you feel relaxed and comfortable, and that you have the best chance of a gentle, natural birth. Our mammalian cousin, the household cat, is renowned for shunning birthing baskets meticulously prepared by owners, favouring instead the solitude of the garden hedge.

Image source: Dailymail.co.uk

The “hypnobirthing” movement, championed by Marie Mongan amongst others, sounds whacky but has at its heart a simple physiological fact: as with all mammals, if the mother is relaxed, the muscles of the womb will contract easily. If the mother is tense and fearful, the muscles of the womb will not want to contract. They will fight to remain closed to delay the birth until the mother feels safe and secure – ‘out of the lion’s den’. This is likely to result in an extended and painful labour.

I decided to create a ‘birthing nest’ in the front room of our house. My husband surpassed himself with birth pool logistics (getting an inflatable Jacuzzi filled with water that remains at a stable 37 degrees isn’t as easy as it sounds), a perfect playlist (Max Richter’s “Sleep” amongst others) and a veritable shrine of candles. Oxytocin, the hormone associated with love and relaxation, was flowing and the birthing goddess was ready to emerge!

And she’d been training.

Realising the importance of a relaxed mind, I repeatedly listened to a man (Phil Parker) telling me in deliciously rhythmic tones that I was going to be “amazed by the easy…simple…and natural process of giving birth”.

Image source: www.prenatalyoga.com

I also tried pre-natal yoga, which gave my pregnant body some vocabulary to move with. For some years, I’ve ‘played’ Taoist Tai ChiÔ (www.taoist.org), a powerful tool for improving physical and psychological health. Tai Chi teaches how to ‘let go’ in body as well as mind. The Chinese have the concept of ‘yin’ force (the opposite of the ‘yang’ force), associated with the empty, yielding, the ‘hollow’. It is the essence of feminine strength, the heart of natural birth.

The second stage of labour (commonly referred to as the ‘pushing’ phase) was long, because hypnobirthing teaches not to ‘push’. In breathing through contractions (and don’t get me wrong, this was not a quiet experience - there were many noises coming out of my mouth that choir girls have no use for), the baby gently moves down. If the modern hospital birth scenario is akin to relieving yourself at work as quickly as possible to avoid breaking wind in a board meeting, this was akin to a relaxed Sunday morning experience with plenty of time to read the weekend supplements.

Image source: http://www.123rf.com/

Our baby was born gently into the water, did not cry and was calm and alert during her first moments outside the womb. I also got off very lightly from the experience (apart from several months of urinary incontinence, which virtually all new mothers suffer from (why does nobody talk about this?)). There was no inflammation to the lower spine, and the wonderful post-natal massage therapist @beccyhands said she wished she could show my lower back to a room of medics to demonstrate the benefits of a gentle birth without intervention.

In her brilliant book, “Birthing From Within”, Pam England explains how in some cultures childbirth for women is held in the same regard as going to war is for men: it is an intense and high risk experience from which you hope to emerge bloody and victorious, shrouded in honour.

The nature of war is that you don’t always emerge victorious. Giving birth is challenging.  It’s bloody.  It’s perhaps our closest shave with death. Many have a tougher experience than I; and if I give birth again, I may not have such good fortune.

If things do go wrong, thank goodness for the amazing staff of the NHS. The Juniper Community Midwives were outstanding in the home care they provided and I felt in very safe hands. Had things gone wrong, we were lucky enough to have King’s College Hospital a short ride away.

Image source: http://www.healthwatchlincolnshire.co.uk

As it was, we did not need a hospital bed, and the baby did not need to be exposed to the increased infection risk from being outside the home. Many of us in our jobs feel we need to be ‘busy’ and ‘doing’ as much as we can in order to be effective. The community midwives understood that the less they intervened, the more effectively they were supporting us.

So as with any battle, the reality of giving birth is likely to surprise. But let this not stop us from training for the big day, eagerly anticipating it and visualising a positive experience. And whilst I’m not advocating medals, for the sake of future mothers, let’s not shy away from talking about our beautiful victorious experiences. I dare say our men folk would!

Comet Tails and Coal Dust

Day 22 (Tuesday 22nd December 2015)

22 is referred to as "two little ducks" in Bingo. Bingo's roots can be traced back to Lo Giuoco del Lotto d'Italia - the lottery established in 1530 in Florence after the long Siege,
as a means of raising funds for the state. The game spread across Europe. It was called Le Lotto in France and consisted of a square of card marked out in 3 rows and 9 columns with
numbers from 1-90 arranged at random in the boxes. A caller announced numbers as they were drawn.
The game travelled to North America in the 1920's and was called Beano (due to dried beans being used
to cover numbers once called and also being shouted when the first horizontal row was filled).
Legend has it that the name Bingo came about through an over-excited mispronunciation of Beano.
100 million people play bingo today.

Today's blog has been written by Trevor Black. Trevor was born and raised in South Africa, but now he lives in the UK. His parents had a passion for learning and creativity (both traits Trevor has inherited). Being academically accomplished and highly intelligent, Trevor commenced his career by qualifying as an actuary and working within Investment Management. He is rare in that he is both highly analytical but also is charismatic and curious - Trevor enjoys stimulating conversation and challenge, so it is no surprise that he subsequently transferred into a direct client-facing role. In autumn 2014 Trevor decided to go it alone and pursue his own passions - he blogs daily, you can read him on http://www.swartdonkey.blogspot.co.uk/, is always up for a challenge, is a talented artist and entertaining and thought-provoking companion. You can follow him on Twitter (his handle is @trevorblack) 

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When you look at the Pale Blue Dot picture of earth, we are less than a pixel. We are all the same pixel. It is difficult not to feel insignificant when the comet passing the earth, and the ‘large’ rock we call home melt into one, from far enough away. And yet, as that comet passes by and it continues on its journey, it is the only thing that matters. Each time we do something, it is the only thing that matters. Each time we think something, it is the only thought we have. Each time we look at someone, they are the only person in that moment with us.

Pale Blue Dot

Our lives are composed of stories and patterns. We connect things. Nothing exists in isolation and so we constantly look for reasons why they do. 

To help us predict what will happen next. To give us a sense of control. But hidden in the tails can be events that define everything. That change everything. The thought that we had put such importance on previous specific choices brings a wry smile. Each thing we do doesn’t matter in the broader context of everything that matters to us. And yet each thing we do is the only thing that matters.

The patterns that define our lives may turn out to be noise. They may turn out to have contained grand directional meaning that withers into nothing. The thing that cannot ever wither into nothing is the AND. The individual connections between things are eternal in time and space. 

Life may not have meaning. Life is given meaning. The meaning is what a thing is connected to. Parent AND child. Mentor AND mentee. The relationship between two things is far more important than the direction. Moment AND meaning.

From those connections, we can find the energy to drive us toward the things that matter. The warmth of a glowing coal, whose energy is released. Whose energy is transformed. 

Those connections are the coals. They are the glow. Even as they may pass, or break, they lead onto something else. We are only partially in control of the pattern of life. What we are control of is how we respond. What we are in control of is the current moment. Even if real control is just the ability to focus. To savour the moments and connections with which we are presented.

So that when those moments become dust, and they will, they will have been worth it. When those moments become dust, we will not have been so obsessed with them that we didn’t have perspective. Yet their dust will be part of the fabric that makes us up. We will have been half-hearted fanatics. Saving energy. Keeping our fire burning. Looking after ourselves. Looking after those we love. Looking at the stars. Creating and appreciating a world and a universe to which we are deeply, and intimately connected.