A bit more than just the birds and the bees

Life has had a bit of a buzz to it over the past week. I went to the CIPD’s inaugural Festival of Work and had a wonderful time connecting with friends and contacts, putting faces to names and learning about new products and services. I particularly enjoyed hearing Garry Kasparov's thoughts on technology (below shows him speaking beside a picture of his beating  a number of computers simultaneously in 1985 - he famously lost to Deep Blue in 1997 - a moment he now sees as a triumph for humans, rather than his personal loss. He is confident that we have a great future ahead of us thanks to AI and technology.)

I also had the good fortune to attend a splendid garden party at Marlborough House (great fun, despite the rain). We were raising money for Bees For Development - a charity that helps disadvantaged people, living in some of the world’s poorest regions, to lift themselves out of extreme poverty through becoming beekeepers.  There was a fascinating display of traditional hives, these ones are from Africa: a bamboo hive from Uganda and a split cane one from Ethiopia - these would usually be plastered on the outside with a mixture of soil and cow dung and given a grass roof to protect from the rain). 

We were joined by some true Queen Bees of UK society, including Martha Kearney (a patron of the charity), Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall 

and Mary Berry (who was sporting a wonderful jacket covered in embroidered bees). 

Bees have been quite a focus for me.

Last weekend I gave a tour of my beehive to some neighbours, a delightful couple with their equally delightful teenage sons – they had won the viewing as a prize in a local charity auction. The bees behaved beautifully (and they have made some amazing wax constructions inside the hive where there was a gap in the brood box, which made the inspection even more interesting for my guests). 

I enjoyed explaining some of the weird facts about bees – did you know that:

• the queen can select what sex egg she lays, but that her choice is based on the shape of the cell that the workers bees have made for her;
• pollen is multi-coloured and so is honey (it all depends on the plant from which it originates);
• a worker bee will usually live for up to 6 weeks but a queen can live for up to 5 years (it is believed that a bee lives for circa 500 miles of flight – an over-wintering bee, which flies less, can live for a number of months);
• humans have been using bee products (wax and honey) for over 9,000 years;
• honey is almost the only food that doesn’t go off and remains in an edible state (so ignore those “best before” labels) – jars of honey have been discovered in ancient Egyptian tombs and their contents were found to be still edible;
• the average bee will make a 12^th of a teaspoon of honey in its lifetime; and
• the male bees (drones) have big eyes, furry backs and no stings (they also do very little to help with the work of the hive but get fed and cared for and are left to do their own thing until its time to buzz off and have sex).

We laughed about the number of similarities between bees and humans. All in all, my guests and I had a good time. However, this is not a post about bees or even their resemblance to people. It is what happened afterwards that made me think…

Drawing of a bee by Dame Judi Dench
one of a number of postcards auctioned at the Bee Garden Party

Late this afternoon, there was a knock on our door – the family had returned with two boxes of eggs as a thank-you gift, as they said that they had had such a good time. How wonderful! The eggs had been laid by their hens (London is more rural than many people think) and there were different types in each box – dinky little Bantam ones and a larger collection, coloured a delicate shade of blue, laid by Araucana hens. It was the eggs that have got my brain whirring and made me decide to blog.

Are chickens eggs any different if they have blue, white or brown shells? Are some better for you than others? Why do yolks vary in colour from deep orange to a pale yellow?

So this is, indirectly, becoming a post about diversity.

What makes you feel you are different? Is there a difference or are appearances deceptive and superficial? Why do we reject and fear people who are different to us? What can we do to overcome stereotypes? Why are some people “hen-pecked”, whilst others like to be dominant and “rule the roost”?

Perhaps we should start with the hens…

The claim that Brown eggs are better for you than white ones is a myth. All hens’ eggs have the potential to be the same in taste and nutritional value, regardless of the colour of their shell. The colour of egg that a hen lays is dictated by the colour of its ear lobe (yes, hens have earlobes – it is a small feather-free area just below the bird’s ear). Hens with white lobes lay white eggs, those with red or brown skinned lobes lay brown eggs.

Many people erroneously believe that brown eggs are more nutritious and/or taste better than white ones. It is true that they usually cost more, but this is primarily due to the fact that the hens that lay them are larger and hence require more food, so their eggs are more expensive to produce. White eggs, due to the smaller size of the birds, are more cost efficient for commercial egg farmers to produce than brown (or indeed blue or green), which is why they are more common in the shops. It is the hens’ diet and the environment where they live that makes the difference as far as nutrition is concerned; for example, hens that roam outdoors produce eggs with 3 to 4 times the vitamin D content of their indoor-reared, restricted counterparts that have no access to direct sunlight. The environment for the hen is important for the quality of the egg, as is the condition of the bird: stressed chickens and older, tired hens or those that are hen-pecked and hence last to get near food lay eggs with thinner shells.

"Dead Hen" by Elizabeth Frink, 1957

I see similarities between egg-laying hens and humans in the workplace (which is not to say that people are battery hens) – like the birds, most workers have little immediate control over their environment (even changing the temperature and air conditioning can prove problematical). I am convinced that every individual has the potential to produce great results – regardless of colour, race, background or size. Like chickens, people deliver better outcomes when they are in a place that they find stress-free, supportive and conducive towards their giving of their best. We each need a situation that suits our physical well-being, with daylight, fresh air, an appropriate ambient temperature for us not to be in discomfort, and adequate space, a workplace where we can perform well without feeling under undue pressure or fearing harassment or bullying from those around us. If you want to know more about how to create a fantastic workplace, I urge you to read Neil Usher’s excellent book: The Elemental Workplace.

Hens with their Young, by Edgar Hunt 1905

Hens, like humans, are not always kind to each other – there’s a reason why we use the phrase “hen-pecked”. It is true that hens have a pecking order with some dominant and others having to play a more submissive role in their community. The term ‘pecking order’ for hens was first coined in 1921 by Thorleif Schjelderup-Ebbe to describe the hierarchy of flock dynamics and it came into popular usage in the 1930s. A flock in the wild is as strong as its weakest member. There is a dominance hierarchy in many societies and it is closely linked to the survival of the fittest – it serves a useful purpose in that it prevents the need for constant fighting - it ensures that the most dominant in a group can have access to limited resources ahead of the others and thereby maintain health and strength. Hens will peck and drive away an ill or injured member of their flock (a survival trait that has remained as a behaviour amongst domesticated fowl). It is important not to introduce fewer than 2 hens at a time to an existing flock (and even then they need to be kept apart and integrated gently over a period of weeks), unless you wish to risk a bird being literally pecked to death. 

Introducing hens

Humans are unlikely to kill a new colleague; we are not hens – we are rational beings and can control our baser urges. However, we are often unfriendly and unwilling to allow a new employee to socialise with an existing group of friends. It can feel very lonely and isolating joining a new team. Try not to be bird-brained and foul (see what I did there); a little kindness towards others can make a big difference to a new colleague – you never know, you also might make a new friend.

We, like hens, need to be well cared for. It is true that an employer has a duty of care towards the workers. However, we also owe it to ourselves to be careful ourselves. There are things each of us can do to help keep ourselves physically and mentally, including, but not limited to:

• exercising,
• eating a balanced diet,
• sleeping for long enough on a regular basis to enable our bodies and minds to recharge,
• drinking sufficient water to meet our bodies’ needs,
• giving ourselves time in an environment that helps with our personal well-being (this could be in a gym, an art gallery, a field or forest or by the sea or near water)

These all help us to remain healthy and productive. Do you make the effort to be kind to yourself?

And finally – time to answer that long-asked question – “What came first, the chicken or the egg?”  The answer is the egg: hard-shelled eggs were laid by reptiles long before chickens came into existence.

We can learn a lot from the birds and the bees.

Ukrainian painted egg

A Story of Hope - Day 1

A Story of Hope

Day 1 (Saturday 1 December 2018)

Number One London – the informal address of Apsley House,
the townhouse of the Dukes of Wellington. 
It was lived in by Wellington, who acquired the house off his brother, 
after the Battle of Waterloo (which celebrated its 200th anniversary in June)
It gained its name because of its being the first house passed by travellers when
entering London via the toll gates at Knightsbridge.
It stands in dignified isolation amongst the chaos at Hyde Park Corner.Add caption

Welcome to the inaugural post in this year's Advent Blog series. The theme was discussed with various people when I was at the CIPD's Annual Conference and Exhibition in Manchester and it was agreed that it should be: Heartaches, Hopes and High Fives.

I have been very remiss at advertising it. I welcome submissions from anyone anywhere in the world. The series has a global readership and following. There are a few rules, one is that this is not a sales platform, contributors write from the heart on any subject or idea that the theme has kindled for them, and the second is that each post has been crafted specifically for the Advent Blog series and as a result it becomes a surprise and novel gift to the community who read this. For those unfamiliar with the format, the Advent Blog series is the same as a conventional Advent calendar, in that a new post is published each day. However, despite being called the Advent Blog series, these blogs are not a religious countdown and the series is not limited to just 24 posts. In recent years the contributions have continued well into the New Year, with people from a mixture of backgrounds and outlooks submitting posts from around the world. All authors are welcome. I remain indebted to Alison Chisnell for founding the series back in 2011; it is a credit to her and all the contributors’ enthusiasm that the Advent Blogs have now become a much-loved annual tradition. Welcome back!

This is the first year where, for personal reasons, I have temporarily had to ease off organising the series. I am not unwell, but a number of members of my family are struggling and that has put a huge strain on me. I love them and need to focus on them and give them my time. As a result, I will be posting some beautiful and thought-inspiring posts that are on-theme from earlier years until I can resume normal curational duties. Please send me your submissions inspired by this year's theme as, providing they are suitable, they will be published a bit later in the series.

Today's piece was originally posted in 2016 and it gives me hope. It is full of emotion and depth and just happens to be totally on theme for this year's Heartaches, Hopes and High Fives theme.  It is contributed by Michele Armstrong, the MD of Acorn Principle Plus, which she established in 2003. Michele is a mindfulness specialist and Director of Coaching for Mindful Talent, which established a working partnership with Acorn in 2016. Michelle is passionate about coaching and the need for ethics and standards. She was appointed Head of the Association for Coaching Scotland in 2004. She demonstrates an impressive drive for personal growth and learning - she studied for a BA in Community Education at The University of Edinburgh, in the early 1990s, and since then has attained an MSc in Neuroscience of Leadership from Middlesex University and a further MSc in Mindfulness (graduating this year) from the University of Aberdeen. Michele is based in Edinburgh. Prior to founding her own business, Michelle was an Executive Coach for the Buccleugh Estates. As a child I spent every summer in Scotland and the stretch of the river Nith on which I fished (and in which I occasionally swam) was next to some of the Buccleuch lands - amazing countryside and passionate people working to ensure sustainable economic development for the individuals who worked on, and the communities living near and engaging with, the natural resources. Hard not to be well-grounded after the experience of being with people working to ensure the continuity of beautiful, sustainable environments. You can follow Michelle on Twitter, her handle is @micheleatacorn

As you will see from her following words, Michelle has a large heart and considerable resilience. When not helping and supporting others, Michelle is a keen amateur gardener. She likes seeing things grow. It is a pleasure having her as the first contributor of this year's Advent Blog series - perhaps we will read a second post, crafted in 2018 later in this series. 

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In considering the theme of #Advent Blogs 2016 – Heights, Hearts & Hollows, my mind was filled with so many thoughts I wanted to share under each of these topics. I spent a few days sitting with my mind full of ideas, then started to get all my thoughts out onto paper by journaling freely, until the story began to emerge. At times words would pour out in a flood and confuse my senses; at other times I would stare at a blank page in the way I imagine Ted Hughes might have done as he waited for his Thought Fox to appear.

The following poem by Rumi (and other poems I find inspiring) let me view my experiences from a different position; a place from which I could look back on the hollows (instead of from within) and upwards and onwards to new heights – enjoying the promise of things to come.

The Guesthouse

This being human is a guest house

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honourably.

He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond. ~ Rumi

The story I share with you now represents a manicured version of the words, thoughts and feelings that have been showing up at my guesthouse since the untimely death of my daughter almost three years ago. Yes, the ‘crowd of sorrows’ have been here, along with anger, disbelief and pain, as well as many thoughts I regarded as dark and shameful. And I don’t mind admitting that I was far from able to ‘meet them at the door laughing’. 

However, it is the ‘unexpected visitors’ I want to write about today, because this is a story of hope – the fourth H word.

From Hollows to Hope

My time spent in the ‘hollows’, although intense, was temporary, and arguably served some kind of purpose. At times, I felt like I was locked in a dark prison cell, in solitary confinement, alone and with no way out. 

My daughter’s death felt meaningless, unfair and isolating, and although I desperately tried to make sense of it, none came. I was seeking solutions to something there were no real answers to.

After a while, I became aware that there were no locks or chains holding me in the hollows; I was choosing to stay there, wallowing. I experienced fleeting moments of fresh awareness and glimpses of light; they told me there was hope.

With hope, I felt the darkness grow softer. The heaviness felt lighter. I felt I’d made space for new visitors to the guesthouse. Hope is slow to come, but it comes.

Anger still came and went, each time pointing the finger at something or someone different:

• myself (shoulda, woulda, coulda)
• ‘them’ (why doesn’t anyone prepare us for death – they know it’s going to happen)
• The government (well, why not!?)

Hope was a constant visitor, making it possible for me to ‘be here now’, to exist in this moment. To sit with sadness and let it be, to acknowledge the shame and doubt before letting them go; and to allow memories that, although sad, would bring joy to visit me too. I learned that I didn’t need to hold onto my guests because each one will come and go if I accept that ‘this too shall pass’.

Hope transforms Hearts

From somewhere in my memory I remembered the lotus flower that begins life in the murky depths of a muddy pool where there seems little hope of new growth or any sign of life. In some traditions, the bud of the lotus symbolises potential. Wrapped within the bud are all the tiny leaves that will one day grow out of the mud and rise above the dirty water to share their beauty with the world. The open flower symbolises an open heart.

At the time I’d been studying several courses that challenged me to view the world and my experience of it through various lenses. I particularly liked (and learned from) the ULab course (based on Otto Scharmer’s ‘Theory U’) and studies in mindfulness. Both had taken me along a path where I was learning to let go of my limited understanding of things, to listen at a deeper level, to be still and to hear what my heart was telling me. Now that I was experiencing life from a completely different perspective, and nothing seemed to make sense any more, I let go of the theory and grasped onto what was real and meaningful, and still felt tangible enough to hold onto through my grief. I was learning to open my heart, to know what it is to feel without being able to hide from the feelings and to allow myself to lean into my vulnerability.

I came to realise that I was not alone; in fact, the opposite was true. I am surrounded by love from family and friends and I am connected, on many levels, to the people who share this world with me. 

I’ve realised that this human connection gives rise to spiritual growth, and opens the door to many new visitors to my guesthouse, and to old friends who I’d almost forgotten. Hope was the catalyst in reintroducing me to the presence of love, faith, kindness and compassion. As each of these grew stronger, the ‘crowd of sorrows’ grew smaller. 

My heart continues to ache, and there’s a space in my life that I still have to navigate around. However, I’m learning to welcome vulnerability, sorrow and sadness, and I am grateful for their visits. 

With them comes a sense of the joys and the good times that, for now, are locked in the memories that accompany the group on their visits. 

One of my favourite poets, Kahlil Gibran, talks about our relationship with our children in his book, The Prophet. He said:

“Your children are not your children.They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.They come through you but not from you,And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

…You may house their bodies but not their souls,For their souls’ dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams." 

Writing about death he said, 

“And when you have reached the mountain top, then

           you shall begin to climb”.

Reaching the Heights

Back at the start of the story, I said my current perspective enabled me to look ‘upwards and onwards to new heights – enjoying the promise of things to come’. This is true. In the last few months, I’ve turned a corner and am building a new way of life that embraces this new, open-heartedness that has emerged out of the muddy hollows. When my daughter died, her two small children came to live with my husband and I, and our life was thrown into a completely new orbit as ‘kinship carers’. Amidst the grief, my husband and I rose to the challenge and slowly redefined what life means to us.

Life’s transitions and changes can be hard at the best of times; at the worst of times I felt like I wasn’t going to make it. And yet, here I am to tell the tale.

Gibran went on to say, in his writings about death,

“You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?”

I discovered that hope transforms the heart. I learned that we are not alone on this planet – ever – even when it feels like we are. We are all connected and if we can learn to open our hearts to feel that connection, and to be led by our hearts to build stronger connections through kindness and compassion, then we will genuinely experience the heart of life and begin to climb.

“In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring”

- Kahlil Gibran, 1995