Darkness to Dawn - Day 7

Day 7 (Thursday 7th December 2017)

Seventh January - the date that Christmas is celebrated in Russia, Ethiopia, Jordan, Romania

and Greece, where Orthodox Christians rely on the Julian calendar to determine the date.

My god daughter and her family are Jordanian Orthodox Christians - she

had a wonderful Christening on the banks of the River Jordan at the site where John the Baptist

is said to have baptised Jesus. One of the best weddings I have ever been to was

celebrated in a Romanian Orthodox church in Iasi 

- with a party afterwards that went on for days

A whole week of the Advent blog posts has passed and what an amazing selection we have had - ranging from encouragements to be more considerate and kind to those around us, to extraordinary tales of family history and very personal reflections on the highs and lows of the year just gone. The quality of the submissions has been superb and there are still many great posts to come.

Today's piece, another gem, is written by Sheridan Webb, and it is her first time contributing to the Advent Blog series. Sheridan is the Director of Training Services and owner of Keystone Development and Training Ltd. Sheridan is based in Liverpool. She is both creative and highly numerate (her degree is in Maths and Management Sciences at Manchester). She blogs, mainly on learning related subjects via her business website (here is the link) and is active on Twitter (her handle is @sheridan_webb) As you will gather from below, Sheridan is a loving, working mum, but still manages to find some time for herself - you may discover her in a Zumba class or else gardening. She used to be a volunteer gardener at the National Flower Centre in Liverpool, which was established as a Millennium project. Regrettably, the centre was forced to close in January of this year (a victim of austerity) and then suffered both vandalism and arson this summer.

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When I was asked to blog on this title, I thought it would be easy – but it wasn’t. It immediately evokes an expectation of an epic personal journey: Overcoming obstacles and immense difficulty to finally arrive in a positive place all the wiser for the experience.  But I don’t have a tale like that to tell – no real dark places to emerge from. Maybe that’s because I’m an optimist, though I don’t think I am. I’m a resilient and practical person who deals with whatever gets thrown at me and moves on. However, I haven’t had any major crises to really test me. Am I lucky, or has my practical and resilient nature just prevented these things from occurring? We will never know. Which brings me back to the fact that I don’t have a story of difficulty and resolution to share, and why I sat on the title for a good while!

So, (being a practical and resilient sort) I decided to take the title a bit more literally and tell a story. It was about 6 or 7 years ago when we took the children camping for the first time to the Lake District. It would have been lovely, but it rained. 

Almost constantly. 

That in itself would not have been a problem if the tent that had been in storage for the last 8 years didn’t leak. 

But we may as well have been sleeping under a colander! We spent the night getting dripped on and having no sleep at all – apart from my son who was about 5 at the time and had somehow managed to find the only dry spot in the tent (plus even now, he can sleep anytime, anywhere!). Around 3am the rain finally stopped and the torture of water dripping on me stopped. I tried to get comfortable in my soggy sleeping bag and hoped to get a couple of hours sleep. No chance, because at around 4am the daughter (aged around 7) decided she needed the toilet. Obviously, at her age and at that time of night I wasn’t going to send her across the field on her own, so I got up too. I donned my coat and wellies and off we trudged to the toilet block, all the time me wondering how on earth this was supposed to be fun, and resigning myself to the fact that there would be no sleep tonight.

I don’t know what made me look up on the way back from the toilet block, but I’m so glad I did. The clouds had cleared completely and the night sky was like nothing I’ve ever seen before or since. The sky was illuminated with stars. Every constellation clearly picked out. The Milky Way as clear as any photograph I’ve ever seen. I just stopped dead and took it in. 

Lack of sleep and general sogginess forgotten. I got my husband out of the tent (who was not impressed initially as he was just about dropping off to sleep), but he too was awestruck by the sight. The three of us stood there in wonder and we quietly pointed out various constellations to our daughter. It felt we were privilege to a rare thing, or members of a secret club, and it made all that misery of the night so far worth it, because without it I would never have been in that field at that moment seeing that sight.

So although I don’t have ‘dark times’ to share, I have bad days like everyone, and on those bad days, I always try to look up: To see what’s ahead; To look for the glimmer of light. Sometimes, there’s nothing there, but often there is. And even if there isn’t…at least I looked for it.

Comet's tail

Day 32 (New Year's Day - Friday 1st January 2016)

32 muscles can be found in each of a cat's ears (compared to just 6 in a human's).
A cat can turn its ears 180 degrees.

Welcome to 2016 - a whole new year for us to play with. I hope it is a wonderful one for you and all those you care about.

David D'Souza is the contributor of today's New Year's Day post and, no matter how hard you partied last night, I am sure that you will find it an excellent read. You can always rely on David to raise a smile whilst simultaneously making a thought-provoking point - you should try his regular blog for HRD (HR Director magazine) or his own blog, 101 Half Connected Things, as well as his regular posts on LinkedIn. Since April 2015 David has worked as Head of London for the CIPD, the UK-based professional body for HR and People Development, championing better work and working lives. I view myself as extremely fortunate in having David as a friend and former colleague: he is one of the brightest, most innovative, commercially-minded, values-centred and inspirational people I know who is involved in transforming HR and the workplace for the benefit of all. He is a devoted father and genuine partner and pal to his wife, as well as a wonderful friend; being selfish, my only regret since he joined the CIPD is that he works so hard, and attends many evening events, so that I am unable to see him as often as I would like. David - I wish you and your lovely D'Souza ladies (and all of you reading this) an awesome 2016.

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So, this year’s topic is Comet’s tail. I looked quite hurriedly at the topic, but it seemed to make sense given the festive timing and the fact that most of you will have picked up your presents from Santa without giving any thought to supply chain conditions.

Retail Week Christmas Index for 2015

An overview of the working conditions at the North Pole:

If you are the reindeer following Comet - or any of the other reindeer at the front - I imagine the view is a little bit unpleasant. Seeing Comet’s tail will be the least offensive part of the role. 

Shackled to a sleigh with an unreasonable expectation as to how much work you can do, you stare ahead and all you can see is another reindeer’s posterior. A black hole of hopelessness. You only get to follow the path already taken by someone else and I imagine that, at times, the whiff of carrots is overwhelming. It must be hard to keep track of progress when your field of vision mainly consists of the (slightly too close for comfort) bottoms of colleagues. I know I wouldn’t fancy that role.

If you are Rudolf you have been part of one of the most celebrated cases of workplace bullying that I’m aware of. Singled out for your nose being bright (last time I checked this isn’t explicitly covered under the Equality Act, surely a shortsighted piece of legislation) it appears that Santa doesn’t really need you unless the weather is even more unpleasant than usual - at which point suddenly you are promoted without any paperwork or mention of an adjustment in salary. And you are supposed to be thankful that, at last, you will stop being teased by colleagues, not because they realise their previous behaviour was wrong but simply because you are slightly more useful to them now.

For the reindeer at the front the experience is entirely different. The crisp night air must be exhilarating as they fly through the air on that most special of nights, delighting in the sense of teamwork that ensures that others follow their direction and multiply their effort. The destination for them must be clear and, even when they are tired, they will be the first ones to realise that a break or the end of the night is coming soon. And their face will be easiest to make out in any team photos.

For the elves apparently you only get one day off a year – at Christmas – and you never get to see the end consumer of your product. They’ve just had their annual break.

For Santa the job is even easier. You take all the plaudits, call out directions and occasionally make motivational noises. All of the thanks come your way – you get pies and alcohol, your team get leftover veg. 

It’s a great job. It’s also apparently possible to outsource public appearances to other people without any hint of criticism.

Each day I work for the CIPD, championing better work and working lives for people.

In the evenings I mainly concern myself with the organisational dynamics of Santa’s operations and what that means for reindeer – the forgotten workers.

So next Christmas, as Santa’s sleigh draws near, spare some time to think about whoever has to look right up Comet’s tail. It’s dark up there.

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.