Drawn to the Dark - Day 26 (Boxing Day)

Day 26 (Tuesday 26th December 2017 - Boxing Day)

26 December is known as Wren Day instead of Boxing Day in Ireland, the Isle of Man and parts of
the United Kingdom, Spain and France. As Christian mythology would have it,
God wanted to know who was King of the Birds and hence set a challenge
to see which could fly highest - the eagle nearly won, but at the last minute the wren,
which had been hiding on the eagle's back, flew up and hence was higher and so
became King. Because of this supposed treachery, mummers, known as Wren Boys,
dressed in concealing costumes used to hunt down a wren, tie it to a pole
and dance from house to house demanding money from townsfolk as a ransom
to save the wren's life or to provide luck in exchange for a feather -
the money raised would pay for a party (a Wren Ball). It is probable that the tradition
originated in pagan times when there were animal sacrifices to encourage the spring to return.
The mummers would sing a variations of "The wren the wren the king of all birds/ St Stephen's Day
was caught in the furze/ Her clothes were all torn- her shoes were all worn/
Up with the kettle and down with the pan/ Give us a penny to bury the "wran"/ If you haven't a penny a halfpenny will do/
If you haven't a halfpenny/ God bless you!".These days a toy wren, as opposed to a live bird, is used.

It's Boxing Day. How are you feeling? I think perhaps I should not have eaten so much yesterday.

Today's warm and perspicacious post is written by my very good friend, Simon Heath. I first met Simon via Twitter (his handle is @SimonHeath1) and I am delighted and proud to have been one of his first clients, when he took the plunge and founded his business after a long and successful career in corporate life. Simon is an artist. he is perceptive and, having worked in the conventional world of work, he understands the issues in the workplace - commercial drivers, silo mentality, the importance of communication and leadership. He is a good listener and can catch the essence of a point in a pithy illustration that is the perfect aide memoire. My company has won 3 major awards this year for our ability to engage people who work with us and to effect positive change, it is no exaggeration to say that Simon has been a significant influence in our transformation. He has created some masterful animations that helped us share our vision and celebrate success and I have used many of his excellent illustrations to stress a particular point or to remind people of what we need to do.

Outside the work environment (actually in and out the work environment) Simon is a delight to spend time with. He is a deep thinker and determined to do his bit to make the world a better place. Some of my best moments over the past few years have involved sitting, sipping a decent single malt, and chatting with Simon. He is a devoted father (with two talented children) and a loving husband and family man. This of us who know him are very fortunate.

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Perhaps it's a peculiarity of having been born in England, heir to English weather, that a brilliantly sunny, brash, shouty and suddenly insistent dawn leaves me cold. I've much preferred my dawns creepier. Not breaking, but slithering smudgily over the horizon. I don't want some Riviera daybreak hammering impatiently at the shutters demanding a croissant and espresso, pronto. The house lights thrown abruptly up, breaking the spell of the cinematography. There are very few things more infuriating than being awoken by some well meaning soul flinging open the curtains with a cry of "Up and at 'em!". Better by far to gradually awaken as the gloaming begins to glisten with a silvery hue, shadows drawing cautiously closer in to their owners. And this time of the year is delicious in this respect. The days are fleeting. The dawns drawn out. And the descent back into darkness starts sooner.

Autumn brings the advent of the dark days. Days of galoshes and mackintoshes. The night expanding stealthily to fill the daylight saving hours. A sense of anticipation as, before a movie, the lights dim to let the dreaming begin and December beckons in the company of the ghosts of Christmas past. When I first heard the theme for this year's Advent Blog series, so thoughtfully and generously curated by my wonderful friend, Kate, I thought I'd struggle with darkness. My life is not touched by it to the degree that so many others are. My cares are more workaday and mundane. But then another friend, the kindly and wise Michael Carty, reminded me that darkness needn't be negative. And how right he is. So, I'll take this opportunity to share with you some reasons to be cheerful after dark. Things that, for this Englishman at least, simply wouldn't be the same under the mad dog midday sun.

A blanket-built fort in the desert illuminated by explorers' torches

The magnesium magic of children drawing dreams with sparklers 

The "Oo!" and "Aah!" of Bonfire Night

The peaty perfume of a single malt

The exuberant pop of the celebratory cork

The cool side of the pillow

Stars as far as the eye can see (those billions of light years)

Our patient lunar companion

Motes of dust dancing in the projector's beam

The acid luminosity of be-glowsticked revelry

The reassuring warmth of familiarity of the sleeper beside you

The laser trails of tail lights

A doner kebab

Walking up the path to a house full of people who'll be delighted to see you

The sense of anticipation you get from that walk

The liquid joy of the carnival lights reflected in her eyes

The unseen crisp smack of a bat catching its prey

The bedtime story

Closeness

My life is not a hard one. The grumble and grouse of the normal run-of-the-mill life. But like so many George Baileys, it is often only by standing in the darkness, looking in at the window of our life, at the warmth and joy within, that we get a true sense of our good fortune. And that's how I'll close. By wishing you all good fortune.

Star Gazing

“When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.”

An apt observation, made by Ralph Waldo Emerson, the 19th century American philosophical writer.

Work is frequently demanding and can be stressful. However, in my experience, things can usually be made easier through the support and understanding of others. If you raise your head from the silo in which you operate, try to put yourself in colleagues’ shoes (in particular make the effort to consider the struggle of those who work in different areas), and offer to help, you and they are likely to benefit. In the organisation I joined near the end of last year, we are going through a period of significant change and this has to be achieved at pace. During the past six months (that’s how long I’ve been there now) we have designed and run our first employee survey (with a 76% response rate - not bad when most people had been discouraged in the past from voicing their opinions). We wanted to determine the main areas of concern across the business (as well as raising awareness of the good things we need to celebrate and share – we had some world-leading results, for example 83% for being a friendly place to work).

Friendship is important; it has the ability to enhance health and wellbeing – research has shown that being in a strained relationship can extend the time it takes for physical wounds to heal and it can also have an impact on a business’ bottom line - Gallup research shows that employee engagement can be increased by up to 50% when people have a close friend at work, with those individuals with a “best friend” at work being seven times more likely to engage fully in their role, responsibilities and broader environment. 

In January we held a two-day Group conference, open to anyone who wanted to attend, to discuss matters raised and to ask people to become actively involved in enhancing our business and our clients’ experience. Nearly 20% of the company have put themselves forward, to play a role in addition to their day jobs. Each volunteer has stated the areas of required change in which they are interested. The table debate facilitators from the conferences have been brought together as team coordinators and given training in how to project manage, interact with stakeholders, build enthusiasm and maintain their personal resilience. Each change theme has an executive team sponsor (and the sponsor is responsible for an area that is NOT their usual day job – so, for example, the executive championing Reward and Recognition is usually busy with asset management). The executive top team came to meet with their core support groups on the second day of the training and one executive commented to me afterwards that “it was marvellous” but that he felt like he had “entered a parallel universe”. He was energised by their enthusiasm (being honest, much of his and my current day job is grinding hard work) and it gave him greater optimism for the future. He should not have been so surprised. People are social and, provided that they feel supported, they will want to work together to build a better future. Who goes to work with the intention of doing a bad job or wishing to be unhappy?

As some of you know, I am finding life challenging at the moment, and I am happy to confess that it is my friends who are making it bearable. They are my stars. Over the past few weeks, a cherished few have made regular contact with me to check that I’m OK. Their concern and thoughtfulness has humbled me. They haven’t sought me out because they have to, they’ve done it because they care and that is the sign of true friendship. They know that I am juggling difficult things in my home-life, as well as a demanding new job. They have offered to help and to carry some of the load. They can’t cure my mother; support my autistic or troubled sisters; enable my father to recover; be a mother to my sons sitting life-changing exams; mend my car and hold my home together, but they can help me remain resilient and give me advice and encouragement. 

There is truth to the statement “A friend in need is a friend in deed” (please note that it is “in deed” and not “indeed” – a true friend is one who is prepared to act to show it). Some of my friends significantly have gone the extra mile (in one case soon-to-be literally) and offered to put themselves personally out for me – for example, I have pledged to go to Uganda in September as part of Connect HR Africa, but, at present, due to needing physically to care for a number of close relatives scattered across the UK, and hence spending my non-work hours fully utilised, I am failing to find time to fundraise – Doug Shaw, who is neither a confident nor a regular swimmer, has volunteered to undertake a sponsored 2000 metre (so just over a mile) swim at the start of July. Doug, who made friends with me shortly after the death of his father, really appreciates the value of family and empathises with my current struggle. His offer to secure funding for Retrak on my behalf (more details to follow) is extraordinary. Another cherished friend has offered to auction himself (or rather his skills) as a way of raising funds – I am amazed at their generosity.

I am equally amazed, but delighted at the generosity of strangers (and probably some friends) who nominated me for the People Management Power List – the HR Top 20 on social media. The final list was determined from nominees proposed by members of the public from around the world. Over the years that I have been active on social media, I have got to know most of the people on the list and I am honoured, and a little surprised, to be there with them. I am extremely grateful to those who put my name forward, but I am not very comfortable with being seen as a peer of the others on the list – they are an inspirational collection of people and I encourage you to follow them. Each has at some stage over the years inspired, advised or encouraged me. I assure you that my comments are not false modesty (and I am aware of Imposter Syndrome), but I know too well my own frailty and limitations. Perhaps that is where friends come back into this

“We always see our worst selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone else to tell us we’re wrong. Someone we trust.”

David Levithan - author

 Social media has, for many, myself included, provided a route to new friendships. We do not choose our work colleagues; they, like us, are there to do a job. Nor do we choose our family. We cannot choose our followers on social media, but we can select those with whom we wish to connect and communicate. I have a treasured collection of contacts all of whom I know I can call on and whose judgement and advice I trust. It works and, just like in the off-line world, that is because we are prepared to make time for each other. Humans are social creatures and, as Robert Frost’s poem “A Time to Talk” (published in 1920) shows, friendship demands time, respect and the ability to take advantage of moments when offered: 

When a friend calls to me from the road

And slows his horse to a meaning walk,

I don’t stand still and look around

On all the hills I haven’t hoed,

And shout from where I am, “What is it?”

No, not as there is a time to talk.

I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,

Blade-end up five feet tall,

And plod: I go up to the stone wall

For a friendly visit.

If you make time for friends (both on and offline) then they will make time for you and they will be there when you need them. This post is my way of saying “thank you” to some special people – you know who you are. Just knowing that you are there is making all the difference. You are my stars.

 

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.”

Helen Keller (American deaf & blind humanitarian, author and political activist.)

(At present I am driving 3 hours to and from my mother at least one night each week to take food and provisions, as she cannot cope with on-line deliveries. Each time I stop near her house and gaze at the Milky Way and thank my lucky stars.)

I'm Scared of the Dark - Day 52

Day 52 (21st January 2015)

52 cards in a deck of Playing cards (excluding Jokers)
illustration - selection of antique playing cards c 1790-1800 by Hunt, London
It is claimed that 52 cards represents the 52 weeks in a year 4 suits represents the 4 seasons13 cards in each suit represents the 13 weeks in each season12 Royals represent the 12 months2 red and 2 black suits represent the 4 different solstices

Today's post is by Jo Stephenson who works as a Learning a Development Manager for Addaction and is passionate about positive change - she genuinely has made the world a better place - for example she can demonstrate that the training she has devised and delivered has made a measurable difference to the service provided by substance abuse practitioners. She believes in being kind and loving freely, in her own words "nice is underrated". You can follow her on Twitter (her handle is @joeystepho ). Jo, whose personal sanctuary is yoga, is mindful, which is indicated by the name of her blog Growing in the Komorebi. "Komorebi" is a Japanese word meaning the dappled sunlight that filters through tree leaves - the interplay of light and shade - an apt word, given the theme of the below post... 

“Out of our deepest memories come the forgotten forms of the past,

given new life by the living sentience of an ancient and eternal forest.”

                                                                                                              - Robert Holdstock

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I've enjoyed reading these Advent blogs. Mostly because of the personal touch, truth and emotion expressed within. A glimpse into what life is like over there. Some celebratory, some bravely writing about the not-so-merriness, and some showing how life often has both - at the same time. If you chose to see it.

I've been publicly blogging since Sept, and not really thought about audience. Then after committing to writing this one I got a bit lost in thinking it had to meet some standard, and maybe guard my head-spill a little more. Unfortunately that meant I wrote something awfully contrived

so I gave up and I wrote this:

I'm scared of the dark.

A life loving dogs has always meant walking, often alone, often for hours. Something that I now realise is precious. Like in the morning when the sun is coming up and it's cold and quiet and through the whole walk you don't see a single other person. A piece of time, just for you. Magic. 

But I never walk alone in the dark.

It's not a fear of attack or monsters as I've tried to explain many times. It's the not-knowing. The corner over there, the path ahead, and that vast space to either side of me. I can't see what's there!

In response my heightened senses, I seek to see, and my mind hallucinates to make sense of the unknown. In the woods by my house in the black of night there are elephants in wheelbarrows, black panthers, lawnmowers, sea lions, a clothes-horse and once I'm certain there was a piano. This doesn't scare me more, but (the adrenaline and) imagination required is tiring.

Arthur Rackham frontispiece for Comus

This attempt to make up the missing pieces and fill in the gaps with something more sure. More comfortable and fitting. Human memory does this a lot. Do you want the truth or something beautiful?

The human brain is very good at filling in the gaps

I get to work with some amazing people at Addaction, who save lives through the work they do. I was live-supervising a colleague in December delivering a learning session on Domestic Abuse. My role was writing feedback all day (as strength based maps, not assessment scores) watching and listening. It was remarkable - a topic of darkness, emotion and problems we can't solve for others. She enabled safety, to shared bias, beliefs and facilitated opening up to new ways of thinking - with compassionate and timely injections of humour against the seriousness. An evocative topic handled with care. At lunch I confessed I was left feeling flat, and low from the topic. So I questioned how she aimed to start after the break and up-lift us. Like it was her responsibility. She didn't have a plan to do that, and explained that part of the learning is the discomfort with the darkness, because that's what people experiencing abuse live with. Part of being a good practitioner is the ability to sit with that kind of share.

On Christmas Day night we played Cards Against Humanity - it's not for the faint hearted. It was my fault because I bought it for my bro-in-law. I heard my mum read aloud scenario cards that left me howling with laugher, and she awarded me points for being obscene. At the first deal of the white cards my Mum's partner's hand included the cards "dying" and "brain tumour". Then he later pulled "hospice care" from the deck. He's post-op disabled and in the very late stages of a terminal grade four cancerous brain tumour. Hospice care is imminent. Could you write that hand? You have two options. Or you're presented with a third where you're laughing and crying in equal measure and not sure which to give way to. But you do have the choice.

I love this obnoxious game. It gave me the opportunity to laugh till my belly hurt, with my family, as friends. I was afraid of the darkness that this 'last Christmas' would bring, but we took that darkness and owned it. We were winning!

I'm hearing about optimism a lot. As a desirable trait, a strength, a must have leadership quality and applied positive psychology. I also recognise depressive realism. True optimism doesn't come with delusions, mania or inbalance. It comes from the opposite; an ability to experience the dark and the light. Not being afraid of the unknown or afraid to really shine. And allowing both to change you for the better, whilst knowing what 'home' is for you. I think I prefer the term resilience, however that looks for you.

This year I've been learning the ability to fully experience the darkness life brings, without fear. And to always notice the brightness that emerges from it. There's being solution focused, but doing so without avoiding the complexity of the problem and the conversation that's needed there too. There's leading to towards conflict and handling this with full regard of the difficultly and discomfort it may present. With no intention of romanticising, when I see people struggle I also see their true colours, what really matters, and their strengths shining through. When I see people realise time is precious I also see their love, the verb.

I used to be scared of the dark. I still am. A fear of not-knowing. But I'm comfortable with the discomfort because sometimes we need to be able to sit there. Sometimes you have to walk through the dark of the forest to truly experience the komorebi.

One of my favourite things in this world is other people. This year has been about people. Thank you for changing me 2014. I'm ready for 2015.

"There's a light in the darkness of everybody's life....."