Wake up and smell the coffee...parents - Day 10

(Monday 10th December 2018)

10 different letters are used in a Snellen Chart (an 

eye chart that can be used to measure visual acuity).

Snellen, a Dutch ophthalmologist, developed the chart in 1862. 

I hope you had a good weekend. I spent mine in Somerset with my mother and sister. Despite the awful weather, we managed to make a trip to a local farm and select a tree to put up for Christmas. 

We had a super celebratory meal with family and friends - I am beginning to feel a bit festive :-)  Family are so important and that, for me, is part of what makes today's post so impactful. I have lived first hand the impact that family relations can have on individuals, both good and bad - a member of my team has had a very traumatic relationship with their mother - this continues to torment them and has been very damaging. My own family is currently suffering due to harmful disputes and actions, many of which seemingly are originated from childhood issues - not a good lead into the Christmas period, so it was good to see some people laughing and enjoying themselves this weekend.

The author of today's post is Gavan Burdan, the founder and Managing Director of Burden Dare - an executive search and interim management business. Gavan has a huge heart and really cares about those less fortunate than himself. He is also social and engaging company - you can reach him on Twitter via  @burdendare. Gavan lives in Sevenoaks and is a passionate supporter of the local cricket team, Sevenoaks Vine CC, where he chairs the Management Committee and, when asked, still plays for the Old Vines (the Club's over 40's team). As you can tell from his post and from his comments in previous years), he is proactive in his approach towards supporting others; he is a mentor supporting individuals down on their luck in London (but more of that to follow).

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Heartaches, Hopes and High Fives

With apologies to sensitive eyes & ears

“They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had 

And add some extra, just for you.”

Philip Larkin goes on to suggest that we should all stop having children, and thus solve the problem!

Well that’s not very Christmassy is it?

You may remember my two previous Advent Blogs talking about the adventures of my previously-homeless-mentee; well, his tale continues, and his last 12 months have been “Heartache, Hope & High Fives” to a tee!

Let me take you back to December 2017.

After another storming year of advancement and achievement (he had been on the 6 O’Clock news; in videos; in The Times twice; promotion at work; he was really buzzing – wow was he moving on!), for the first time in 5 years he was looking forward to the 2017 Christmas break. We had even had laughs about Merry Christmas Vs Happy Holidays, whereas previously he would have been reflective and sad because this time of year has bad memories; his father had left home when he was young, he went into the penitentiary system, deportation, loneliness, and his birthday alone – all in these winter months.

But in 2017 things had gone so well.

Then, almost a year ago to the day, I got “that” call; just as we were putting our decorations together, he was falling apart. His mother had sent across a bunch of magazines from what had been home for 33 years, which he was quite enjoying actually, but tucked into the last fold was a short hand-written time bomb saying 

“I’m so pleased you are making a success of your new life in England, don’t fuck it up like you usually do”.

Heartache for him, it completely fried his mind. Heartache for me, I felt so bad for him – frog in well.

Why on earth do (some) parents do it, but at least we now knew the true cause of all the fuck-ups in his life?! It made me wonder about all the things I might have done, without meaning to, to affect my children over the years; I’d like to hope nothing that had come across as stupid!

But, we had fixed exactly this before; I told him we would do it again, he would get through this, he knew the ropes, he knew the small steps we would re-take – and he knew he could have hope; he would get over this, and that’s one of his most endearing features, he always has hope.

This year he’d hope that his first ever business presentation would help secure the coffee franchise on Virgin Trains; he’d hope that he wouldn’t be flustered giving his first ever corporate speech in Manchester; he’d hope that he might get the last sought-after place on a training course; he’d hope that he could feel good this Christmas.

Fast forward to this week.

Two friends meet in London for a Christmas catch-up and chat through that last twelve months, laughing and joking at past fears and worries that had been washed away by yet more success and further advances, and wishing each other Merry Christmas with high hopes for 2019.

And as they parted…………?

PS. If you buy coffee then please support “Change Please” when you see one of their coffee carts or travel on Virgin trains, and buy Tom’s blend in Sainsbury – you’ll be helping homeless back into sustainable employment.

Darkness to Dawn - Day 15

Day 15 (Friday 15th December 2017)

15 years ago the trend for the UK Christmas Number One Single changed, when the support for 

traditional bands ceased and reality TV started impacting the Chart. In the UK the Christmas 

Number One is the single at the top of the UK Singles Chart in the week in which Christmas

falls. Traditionally Christmas Number Ones were the best selling single of the year. 

Often there was intense rivalry between bands to achieve pole position - most notably i

n 1973 when 2 glam rock bands, Slade and Wizzard, battled it out. Slade won with "Merry Christmas Everybody" 

(which has remained their best selling song of all time and is the most played Christmas tune 

as well as being the festive song that nets the most royalties  - at least £500,000 pa)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jt0Ym6HMxp8

I'm on my way to Leeds this morning to visit the people in our branch there and then on to the team in Beverley. It's good to get out of the bubble of London and see how things are in other areas. I suspect it will be a bit chillier than down south, but I know that the welcome will be warm. At the end of the day I'm driving on to Durham to fetch my youngest back from uni - I'm beginning to feel festive - the family will be back together. :-)

The writer of today's piece is not antisocial, but they have asked to remain anonymous. Once you have read their piece I am sure you will understand why. I am sure that you, like me, will want to wish them a better 2018. There have been a number of posts this year where people have shared their challenges and sorrows. One of the things I particularly like about the Advent Blog's reading community is the genuine concern and compassion that is shown by the many to the few. Life isn't always easy but it does help to talk and share. 

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2017 can't finish soon enough. It's been an awful year. Illnesses, work, and personal issues all fell on top of each other to create the perfect storm and the storm rained darkness. It's no wonder that earlier in the year the wheels came off.

This darkness has always been there but it's always been in the shadows. It's always been part of the shadow. It's always been talking to you. This year its voice has been loud enough to start to, and then take over, the self talk that you're good enough. Not hearing your positive voice but the voice of anxiety and despair is painful.

Waking up several times a night and dreading waking up in the morning is a hateful feeling, only eased by getting so tired that you sleep because of exhaustion, not tiredness. Hiding that lack of sleep behind stories to avoid admitting it to your family and friends tests your creative side.

You read about the fear of public speaking and how people feel like prey. The fear of speaking at all is what dumbstruck really means. When half a dozen faces are turned at you in a meeting waiting for the next words you'll say. Not knowing what to say because you know what you'll say will be the wrong thing is true creeping death. So you say nothing much and become 'uncommunicative' and less of a 'team player'.

Those times in the day when you can't concentrate because the voice is there, reminding you you can't do this. 

The noises in your head are mixed with the noises in the office so you go to the lavatory and sit there for 10 minutes trying to gather the strength to get by. Even getting by for an hour would help you. 

The paralysis that comes from having so many things which haven't been done that you do none of them because you can't imagine doing one over another. And then dealing with the feelings of despair that you anticipate will come from the tasks not being completed.

Some people talk about you in glowing terms and it's difficult. Your self-esteem doesn't exist, you are panicking about what you said or did to create that perception of you and then have to steel yourself to go again and be better.

On a warm summer day you come home at lunchtime and stand in your lounge. You drop your work bag and weep. Deep and painful sobs that wrack your body for an hour. This is too much. This is wrong somewhere. You've felt like this before and you couldn't deal with it alone. 

You call the Samaritans. They recommend you see your GP. And a crack of light appears. You see your GP and they help you realise that you are unwell. It's the same unwell you had 15 years ago and you dealt with that by talking to people. You are recommended for counselling and you spend time with a person who listens. Another crack of light. They don't just listen though. They empathise, they get you to question those strategies and ways of working that are dysfunctional and energy sapping. It feels better and gets better week by week.

It was dark as night but the sun is coming, the sky is a deep violet now with a hint of orange. The dawn of something else is here.

A Little Less Dark - Day 11

Day 11 (Monday 11th December 2017)

11 characters are the traditional inumber for a static nativity or crib scene 

(namely the infant Jesus, Mary, Joseph, an Ox, an Ass, a shepherd, a sheep, an angel, 3 Magi).

The first creation of a crib scene is credited to Saint Francis of Assisi at Greccio in Italy in 1223.

The start of a new week. I hope it's a good one - mine seems to be filled with festive meetings, whilst still trying to do the day job. 

Today's piece is written by Sarah Storm, who is based in the Breda area of the Netherlands. She is a loving wife and dog lover. She founded her own consulting business three years ago, working as an OD consultant and coach, but also works as an associate, for example for Roffey Park in the UK. Sarah previously worked in HR, most recently as a Business Partner. She has a degree in History and Education from Stirling University and an MSc in Organisational Change from Ashridge Business School, where she works occasionally as a facilitator and OD consultant. Sarah is active on social media - her Twitter handle is @_sarahsto_ and I am sure that she would be pleased to hear from you.

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Dawn comes quite late in the Netherlands at this time of year.

Not much of a dawn to speak of today. It just became slightly less dark – an impression which wasn’t helped by the light drizzle which settled on my glasses as I walked our dogs. It was in this semi-light that I reflected on darkness, dawn and what they mean to me at the moment.

Darkness - typically used as a metaphor for evil, ignorance, sadness, depression and fear. As usual I want to be contrary and look for the bright side of darkness. Starlit nights, parties, fireworks, and Christmas lights. A time for romance and passion.

Darkness is important for us and for the environment. This week it was reported that Earth’s artificially lit outdoor area grew by 2 percent a year from 2012 to 2016 and that outdoor artificial light is brighter than ever. Light pollution can impact the quality of the sleep we need to thrive. The migration and reproduction of birds, fish, amphibians, insects and bats can be disrupted. And you can forget about those starlit nights.

Light pollution - photo by Tim Peake

In darkness we’re able to take to our bed, which can be the best place to be in difficult times. Hidden from the world and, with luck, the respite of sleep. A good friend whose husband died suddenly this summer told me that the worst time of day for her was in the morning, when she woke up and realised again what had happened.

And yet I know from bitter experience that lying awake burdened by worry or fear in the darkest, earliest hours of the morning feels desolate and lonely. 

Last winter, when my dad was very ill, it was always dark when we left the hospital after visiting. This was when it seemed most hopeless. 

After my husband’s cycling accident this summer it was the nights which brought the greatest challenges. Once he woke in a panic at the hospital and as visitors weren’t allowed to stay overnight I sat in the empty reception trying to calm him over the ‘phone. In the days after, when he couldn’t sleep from the pain, we drank tea, ate chocolate & watched Netflix for hours until he could relax enough to go back to bed.

As darkness fell last Sunday I was making a proper pudding and a stew cooked slowly in the oven. Dark winter evenings demand comfort food. I lit candles and poured some wine. The fading light felt like an invitation to hunker down. Just then I felt particularly grateful and privileged for being safe, warm and fed after being in London and Brighton last week and seeing so many men sleeping rough, begging, or selling The Big Issue. How they feel about darkness and dawn? Does the darkness only bring cold, discomfort and danger or does it provide some welcome invisibility from the passing public?

It’s possible that there could be some projection going on here. Thinking about how much of my writing sees the light of day and how long it’s taken to send off this to Kate, it’s clear that, under some circumstances, invisibility feels quite comfortable for me!

After being diagnosed with lung cancer Mary Oliver wrote in her poem “The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac”, 

“Do you need a prod? Do you need a little darkness to get you going?”

Sometimes that’s what it takes, no matter how shocking and painful. Redundancy, mental illness, a break up, even a death, can be the trigger needed for change or to appreciate the life we have. Sitting with those moments of darkness, taking a good hard look and wondering what to do with it. In my work I’ve learned to appreciate the moments of darkness and discomfort because they invariably lead to the most significant breakthroughs.

It’s no coincidence that the most soul-stirring times of day are sunrise and sunset. There’s something about the blending of the darkness and light, and we need one to appreciate the other.

Mary Oliver's cancer poem