A fond farewell and a huge thank you - Day 32

New Year's Day, 1st January 2019

All good things come to an end, or so they say. I can tell from how wretched I feel writing this goodbye how lucky I am to have hosted the Advent Series for the past five years. (This adieu is my own personal "Heartache"). I have learned so much, made some amazing friends, strengthened bonds with others and discovered information about contacts that I would never have guessed had it not been for writing on here. I have unearthed more odd facts and chosen a larger number of illustrations and music for other people's pieces than I care to remember. It is humbling to see how the series has grown since 2014: it now has a wide, global following and contributions have been submitted from a range of locations around the world; writers have aged from teens and to grandparents and people facing up to growing old, and subjects have been equally wide from births and babies to fathers, grandmothers and elderly great aunts; and it has been wonderful to see how people who have joined in from various sectors (including HR, artisan cheesemaking, economics and forecasting, research, Tech, L&D, Facilitation, Facilities and Workplace Design, Artists and Consulting);  and a wide range of attitudes and opinions have been voiced, including through stories, autobiographical reminiscences, confessions of loss, comments on the landscape, and poems. I love the fact that the series is not commercial, it is something that has been created for a community out of individuals' consideration for others and the simple joy of writing something to share. Some people find contributing to the series cathartic or hope to help others, others wish to describe experiences, make a record of the year, or vital moments that have passed,  to share a sadness, talk about loved ones, make sense of the past,  extol a joy or inspiration, light the way, or simply find their voice - the series has been the launch pad for a number of now well known and respected bloggers.  I am not going to call names and single out specific posts - there have been far too many exceptional posts over the years although all the links above are to posts that proved particularly popular. Every blogger has left their mark and the series would have been the poorer for any loss of contributions. "High-fives" to each and every writer.

Being the curator, taking the series on after its initial foundation by Alison Chisnell, I have been privileged enough, to interact quite frequently with the people who have crafted blogs. When people have wished to remain anonymous I have tried hard to protect their identity. Some contributors have written posts that have helped others and which have commenced discussions on important matters such as mental health, bereavement, ageing, sustainability, the future, society and relationships. People have been so open and shared things that have often surprised others. I have learnt a lot from you, and many of you have inspired me and others in so many different ways. Thank you.

As you know, I am passing on the baton to a new curator - Gary Cookson. I am confident that under his stewardship the series will be enhanced and continue to thrive. The series has "become a thing" and I know that it will get bigger and better under Gary's careful eye. I look forward to being a contributor once again and crafting a piece for his chosen theme(s).

My "Hope" is that you all have a splendid 2019, full of joyous experiences, amusing incidents and handy tips that you will be able to use in the posts you craft for Gary near the end of the year.

FAREWELL and THANK YOU!

So long, farewell... and

Thank you!

Heights, Hearts and Hollows

Day 41 (Tuesday 10th January 2017)



41% spike in hate crimes motivated by race or religion, occurred in the UK
following the EU referendum. Home Office dat shows a marked increase of more
than 2/5ths in July 2016 compared to July 2015. This appears to be linked to a
rise in anti-immigration sentiment, although it is also possible that the increase is
due in part to victims being more inclined to contact the police to report
crimes than perhaps they would have in 2015.

On this day in 1920 the League of Nations was founded as a result of the Paris Peace Conference that ended World War One. In many ways, this seems apt given that today's writer is, in my and many people's minds, a true global citizen who wants a better world for all. Trevor Black, the author of today's post, is an inspirational man. He is academically gifted, having qualified as an actuary before becoming valued as a talented portfolio manager and financial analyst, working both in South Africa and Europe. He then made a conscious decision to leave the financially rewarding environment of corporate life to pursue his passions. He is artistic and creative - I have enjoyed attending art exhibitions and admiring his highly textured oils; his writing speaks for itself. Trevor writes a daily blog on happiness and learning Swartdonkey which has occasional guest posts. He is gathering stories from people he knows and meets about how to overcome obstacles to creativity and composing his own.

Trevor was born and raised in South Africa, but now he lives in the beautiful Cotswolds in the UK. As well as being active and mindful (diet, yoga, and attitude are important to him), he is curious and a thinker. The main themes he is interested in and writes about are: 

• Universal Basic Income
• Global Citizen
• Guest Posts
• Exercise
• Diet
• Breathing
• Relaxation
• Positive Thinking
• Flow
• Relationships

You can follow him on Twitter (his handle is @trevorblack) 

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“Heights, Hearts and Hollows”

We are forgetful. I often need, and find, reminding just how fragile life is. Reminding how much care we need to put into the things that matter to us. Being forgetful helps focus our attention. We can’t worry about everything, and still do anything worthwhile. Understanding how we function can give the perspective needed to make sure we don’t wander off, and forget the things that matter. Daniel Kahneman talks about our Experiencing and Remembering selves. We experience each moment, if we are paying attention, but we tend to remember according to the Peak-End rule. The heights the experience reached and the way it concluded. We don’t add, or average, each and every moment. The story we live, and the story we lived hold each other with a light touch.

Like a delicate path of breadcrumbs as we wander into the unknown, our hearts provide the connections back to what matters. 

Edward Colarik Hearts Sculpture Blue

We remember things that have meaning to us. We create that meaning by caring. We are trigger happy. If we have an emotional response to something – anger, humour, disgust, and love – it forges a link to other memories. 

The more connections of the heart we make, the less likely we are to get lost as strange beasts of the night nibble away at the tasty morsels we have left behind.

The real flavour of life can lie in the hollows. Hidden from the easy path. The cavities, craters, caves and crannies caused by the drama and pain we encounter. If we share our struggles with others, they add depth to those connections.  Then each struggle adds a layer of strength that increases our capacity to engage the unknown. Each struggle overcome builds our confidence.

Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones, Bt, 'Sisyphus', Tate

Our Experiencing and Remembering selves weave through the heights, hearts and hollows of our story. The more that story is shared, the more flavour lingers on the air connecting each bite we take.

Hand loomed, Persian Tree of Life tapestry

Deeper Appreciation

Day 51 (Wednesday 20th January 2016)

51 percent of live TV is watched live. Betraying my age, when I grew up we all watched the
same programmes at the same time (or missed seeing them). Live television viewing was at 81%
in 2008, according to research by NBC Universal, but increasingly people now view TV via
streaming on demand at a time when it suits them - digital broadband is rapidly changing our lives.

Today, the Advent Blogs and Post Advent Blogs series come to an end, and what better way to end than with a post based on appreciation? I am so grateful to all of the wonderful writers who submitted pieces for this year's series. What a breadth of topics have been covered under a theme that many found difficult to tackle. The pondering and effort has paid off - I think that this year has been the best yet. Thank You! I will provide a more detailed breakdown of themes and views later this month.

David Goddin is the author of today's excellent piece. Having initially met David via social media (his Twitter handle is @ChangeContinuum), I have worked with him on a number of occasions and it comes as no surprise to me that he has written an encouraging, celebratory piece about what makes people great. David has a talent for making people see things in a constructive light and for enabling people to achieve more than they believe they are capable of. David is the founder and Managing Director a Change Continuum, a specialist consultancy that focuses on business performance and enabling positive change for both individuals and the organisations in which they work. He is a wonderful husband and father and lives with his wife and two sons in Norfolk.

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In thinking of both “Comet Tails and Coal Dust”, I’ve been struck by how culturally each seems often to be seen in a singular view. There are deeper meanings beyond that are perhaps commonly missed... appreciation that is the understanding of the worth, quality or importance... appreciation of that full awareness or understanding.

“Comet Tails”. Our immediate appreciation is perhaps for the existence of a comet, its apparent beauty and perhaps connections and time beyond our own mortal reach. I wonder if we appreciate that the decay of the comet is what creates its tail? I wonder if we appreciate that it is only through the comet's long slow, and perhaps lonely death that we may see a comet's tail pass us by for a time?

Comet Lulin

“Coal Dust”. Dirty, useless remnants to be discarded perhaps. I wonder if we appreciate the 300 million year journey that brought coal dust to us here today? I wonder if we appreciate that its existence at all is a sign of the value we’ve obtained?

Appreciation is something we see written about quite frequently and it’s often beautifully given in the sense of gratitude. Appreciating what is good. Appreciating the help & support of others. Appreciation.

Yet, in the “Coal Dust” sense there is often little or no appreciation given to that which we perceive to be useless or troublesome. In the “Comet Tail” sense there can be appreciation but perhaps with some superficiality.

It’s naturally human behaviour. We can choose to take what value and appreciation that we find immediately useful to us. And I wonder if that’s enough?

We love the new, the shiny, the sexy, the appealing... often without an understanding of what sacrifice, trouble or consequence may lie behind.

1996 making of balls for Nike in Pakistan

We dismiss what we immediately see as useless and troublesome... often without understanding that it is a very limited and limiting lens that we look through.

Yet we can forgive the failings and failures of those nearest and dearest to us... We can catch those who need our help when they fall, without question... We can find abundance of friendship, love and support without asking. That appreciation is the deepest in every sense and we can all show it.

I think that capacity is where we are brilliant as humans. I think it also demands us to seek a deeper appreciation more often than we may be inclined to.

"What a Wonderful World" sung by Louis Armstrong

Coal Dust and Comet Tails

Day 37 (Wednesday 6th January 2016)

37 seconds - the time it took for the Hindenberg to be utterly destroyed in 1937.
She was a German-built, 800 ft long Zeppelin airship, considered the height of sophisticated travel.
It was her first Frankfurt to New Jersey flight of the season. She had capacity for 70 passengers but
on this occasion had only 36 plus 61 crew - 35 of them died. The reason for the explosion remains a mystery.

Today's post is by Andrew Jacobs a respected Learning and Development expert who works in the public sector in London. He became the Organisational Learning and Talent Manager for the London Borough of Lewisham in October 2014, having previously done a great job, in a similar role, for Lambeth (the Borough in which I live). He is active on Twitter (his handle is @AndrewJacobsLD ) and he writes an excellent blog, "Lost and Desperate" that is often, but not always, about Learning and Development. Andrew is passionate about the value of training and the need for it to be an integral part of business, resulting in both personal and organisational improvement.

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Here we are again. A year after the last advent blog and I don't know what to write, so I'm telling you now, at the start, that this post is written under duress. It's been forced and cajoled; Kate pigeonholed me at a recent tweet up and told me that I needed to write a post for this series. That’s why it’s late...I can’t type so quickly with one hand held behind my back.

Why wouldn't you put a post together Andrew? It's just a few hundred words. It’s a bit of simple writing that can be put out there for people to read and forget. But, as I've found this year especially, words have meaning. Their use ought to be considered and evaluated. The meaning you attach to them when you produce them may not be what the reader interprets. I’ve seen this in the posts in this series to date; they’ve been emotional, reflective, inspiring and touching. They’ve been courageous, insightful, engaging and original. This isn't a competition yet I find that I set myself an expectation of crafting a post which engages and provides interest to a diverse readership.

Not being able to find meaning is hard.

In the workplace, even if we don't always know what to do, we know the why. Away from work we live for the meaning. Should I anticipate a Damascene moment when I am able to find the appropriate relationship?

So I sought it out. I worked on it. I talked through a series of words on my journey to and from work. On my motor scooter, my helmet protects me from the elements and gives me a private space to ponder and consider my thoughts, free from interruption and other voices for over 30 miles each day.

I wrote words and deleted them. Too contrived.

I wrote words and saved them for another post. Too difficult to complete and too personal to share. Yet.

I wrote words and adapted them for a piece of work elsewhere. Not formed enough to make sense.

I wrote words elsewhere and saw a shimmer of recognition. A dim light that had meaning to me.

My son was born on 21st December, 15 years ago. He shouldn’t have been here; he had decided that the space he had been occupying in my wife’s belly wasn’t for him and so, at 28 weeks, decided to show his face. He weighed just over a kilo - 1.038. That’s a bag of sugar in old money. 

He was swept away from us, via resuscitation tables, incubators, UV lamps, and a range of medical equipment that wouldn’t look out of place in the new Star Wars film. We didn’t see him for a few hours although we knew he was there. When we did set eyes on him our breath was taken away; we named it the sharp intake of breath (SIOB). This tender and precious little bundle was wired up like Neo in the Matrix, each limb dotted with cables, lines, and pipes bringing life to a tiny life with translucent skin and transparent limbs.

We were able to get him out the incubator four days later, on Christmas Day, for a few minutes. A first hold for a mother, father and brother which 96 hours before we hadn’t dared hope would happen. We’d gone past the SIOB stage - after 4 days waiting in a dimly lit Special Care Baby Unit we’d got to the point where we just wanted to be connected to him and to see him less connected to the machinery which was keeping him alive.

What we hadn’t understood, enveloped in the warmth and comforting drip of medical information and outstanding nursing and medical professionalism, was how everyone else who came to meet him for the first time hadn’t had a SIOB moment.

First reactions to him were always entertaining. Some laughed, some cried. Some spoke with furious abandon, others went silent and contemplative. Some visited many times, others couldn't (wouldn’t?) until he was home.

3 months later he was home, near to the time when he should have been and he’s now a strapping lad with a sense of justice and effort that I have to attribute to his fighting spirit.

As we move into the New Year, remember the wonder of seeing a comet for the first time. Think again about the last time you did something which truly took your breath away.

And promise to do it again in 2016.

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.