Is it a priority?

The last time I wrote something on here was in June 2019 – just before my life became very difficult. From July 2019 onwards, I needed to find some way of giving myself time to focus on urgent priorities, namely my mother who had become seriously ill and my autistic sister, as well as my work and all the other people I care about. My mother died just as we plunged into the pandemic and my work, as was the case for so many in HR, became more complicated than I have ever known it, but also more rewarding and impactful. 

There is no doubt that in the past two years HR has stepped into the limelight, really showing how and where it can add value, and I am so proud of what I and my team achieved in collaboration with others. Supporting colleagues, clients, and my family through Covid, whilst simultaneously coping with grief and the demands of probate, meant that I didn’t have sufficient hours in each day to do all the things that I wanted to do, something had to give. The easiest things to drop were those that gave me personal gratification but were not crucial for me or others and that included blogging. Although writing has always given me immense pleasure, I had to stop. Now, finally, I feel ready to resume. 

It does feel slightly indulgent writing again, and I hope that my words don’t seem superficial when there are so many awful things going on in the world. I know that I am not alone in being transfixed by the horrifying situation in Ukraine and, like many, I am only just beginning to appreciate the repercussions that will have a direct an impact on us all. I know that I am incredibly fortunate to live where I do and to enjoy the freedom and opportunities that surround me. The fact that I have the right to expression and can publish my opinions is a privilege that I value. I have always written in part to help me clarify my thoughts on a subject, but also in the hope that some of what I have to say might be of use or value to others. 

Given why I stopped writing, it only seems right to produce a post on prioritisation. We all prioritise – doing so is a fundamental part of each of our lives. Should I grab a bite or finish writing this? Should I walk to get some exercise and enjoy the view or go by bus as that will be quicker? Should I write that report or have a 1-2-1 with a member of my team? I do think that organisations’ priorities have shifted slightly over the past couple of years. Even three years ago HR used to have to fight to get Boards and senior leaders to talk about wellbeing, culture, mental health, purpose, and values - they were seen as “soft and fluffy”. At that time the focus was all too frequently on just the bottom-line, to the exclusion of everything else. Clearly commercial results are vital, a business cannot thrive without them, but those results are produced by people, and it is the way you manage, support, educate and encourage those people that impacts the business’ results. Many years ago, my uncle, who was a partner for a leading global accountancy firm, was Lord Mayor for London and he chose ‘People Count” as his motto, because he knew that success comes from people not dry financial figures. It is noticeable that organisational priorities have shifted: CEOs are proactively asking their CPOs what can be done to make people appreciate their work and workplace (and only for a few is this simply a cynical reaction to ‘the Great Resignation’ and a desire to manipulate people into staying), most leaders want to foster an environment where people can enjoy what they do, appreciate the people they are with, and be able to grow and thrive. 

The recruitment market currently is red-hot, with many employees choosing to quit either because 

• their priorities have changed during the pandemic, and they want a different lifestyle. 
• they have been approached by recruiters and/or potential employers. 
• they have been inspired to move having seen the roles that their friends are getting; or simply because they now feel that the time is right to move. 

 Individuals are having to make decisions about their futures and their places of work. I am one of those people. My former employer has been bought by a successful American group (a great outcome for all) but it has resulted in my no longer having a job. I suspect that my posts over the next few weeks will be about my experiences as a candidate. 

Most recently I have had a disappointing experience and it was entirely my fault – I should have prioritised better. I was in Somerset, supporting my sister, but had a meeting scheduled with a leading UK head-hunter. I have known them for years; I respect them immensely and they are a leader in their field. We had had a date in the diary for a Zoom meeting on Friday 18th February. I was really looking forward to catching up, as well as hoping that she could help me. Given all that has happened over the past ten days, you may have forgotten that the UK was hit by severe storms in mid-February. Storm Eunice, an intense extratropical cyclone, hit the UK in the morning of the 18th of February; one of the worst impacted areas was the South West of England, which was where I was. 

The noise was terrifying, and the movement of trees had to be seen to be believed – the Cedar in my sister’s garden looked like a 1920’s Flapper dancing the Charleston. We lost our electricity, but others lost roofs, animals, greenhouses, and ancient oaks. I was getting worried at the lack of power and, if I had been sensible, I should have cancelled the Zoom meeting to focus on supporting my sister. As it was, the electricity came back on less than 10 minutes before my meeting was due to start and I opted to plough ahead. I dialled in, but I was unprepared, and my mind was distracted. I made a mess of even simple questions such as “What have you learned over the past six years?” and I know that I did not create a favourable impression or do myself justice. I should have taken my own advice and re-prioritised to fit the circumstances, and rescheduled, thereby ensuring a better outcome. 

So, do I regret prioritising and hence not blogging for a few years? ( there is no doubt I was busy - I was supporting my mother through the final months before her death; figuring out how to care for my autistic sister who was not only losing her mother and constant companion but also her existence as she knew it; aiding other family members and friends who were struggling in a multitude of ways; my work was in overdrive as we cemented our organisational transformation from bankruptcy to being a desirable wealth manager and simultaneously coped with the onset of Covid-19 and the pandemic; I am a mother and both my sons were at crucial stages in their lives.). Don’t get me wrong, I am not seeking sympathy – so many people have much worse and more difficult lives than me. However, I did what needed to be done and what I felt that I wanted to do at the time - the point I want to make is that at times it is right to let things go, because there are other priorities that must come first. You need to be aware of your circumstances and act accordingly. 

Here’s wishing you every success when making appropriate decisions for the future.

Hope - Day 31

Monday 31st December - New Year's Eve

31 is the most common number of days in the Western Calendar's months. The rhyme that many
people use as a reminder ("Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November; All the rest
have thirty-one, Excepting February alone, And that has twenty-eight days clear; And twenty-nine
in each leap year.") was first published in 1555, when it was copied into a manuscript. It is probably
the only 16th century poem that many ordinary people know by heart.
I hope the months ahead are happy and healthy ones for you and yours.

The end is nigh, in more ways than one. Today is the last day of 2018 and it is also the final guest post that I will curate and host as part of the Advent Blog series, well at least for the foreseeable future. There have been some brilliant pieces this year - huge thanks to all the contributors. It is New Year's Eve and for the first time for ages we are not going to a party, instead we are cooking a family meal at home. I am looking forward to spending some time with my sons. We have a big party on Saturday to celebrate Hamish's 21st. He has asked me to say a few words, so I need to give that some thought. It is a funny feeling seeing your children become adults. I'm sure I should feel older than I do.

The final guest post in this year's Advent Blog series is by start-up and individual and organisational growth specialist Christine Locher. With an academic grounding in Communication, Psychology and Intercultural studies in her native Germany (during which time she also worked as a journalist), Christine is a high achiever. Post university she commenced her career in consulting, working first for McKinsey and then Boston Consulting Group, undertaking a variety of client and internal development roles before focussing on the growth of consultants at all levels. She ran global leadership and learning for Deloitte Touche Tohmatsu before a brief stint at Oliver Wyman and BTS. Christine has a passion for seeing others thrive and grow. In 2017 she decided to branch out on her own, founding her own leadership development business. She is an excellent coach (ICF standard with high level academic qualifications in thinking and change as well as communication and psychology) and tends to work with entrepreneurs and growing businesses, especially within the tech space. Although a global nomad, Christine is currently based in London, where she takes advantage of the breadth of experiences that the City offers. She is a voracious reader with an almost insatiable curiosity - quite capable of ensuring that the details are not missed when effecting the big picture plan. Christine is a keen and natural networker - I recommend your connecting with her on Twitter, her handle is @ChristineLocher. I like her post as it is full of hope and we all need a but of that.

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“Help me, Obiwan Kenobi, you are my only hope.” (Princess Leia, Star Wars. Sending this into a galactic void, hoping to get heard. She did, eventually.)

Hope is one of our most beautiful qualities as humans. No matter how deep the colossal mess is that we might find ourselves in, we manage to, at least in a good moment, lift our eyes off the chin-deep muck we are in and towards the horizon. We imagine a future that is better. Hope is what keeps a sacred space for that imagination, not as an escapist delusion, but as a vision that just hasn’t been implemented yet. Hope gives us energy when the struggle has taken it all. Hope is what keeps us alive. This time. Next time. All the time.

Hope doesn’t need to wear rainbow unicorns or come with an ethereal violin soundtrack to work. Hope can be an empty parking lot at 3am shouting obscenities at the big man in the sky in existential disagreement to then sleep off the hangover, make your first cup of coffee, take a good hard look at your life, to keep going for another day, this time better. It doesn’t need to be pretty. It doesn’t need to be instagrammed. It just needs to be there, however it looks and feels at the moment. Hope, at all times, is as real as you allow it to be. I’ll just say that again. Hope is as real as you allow it to be. 

We have of course no proof or confirmation any of our hopes will ever come true. But hope doesn’t need that (and neither do you, you hope-endowed human, and deep-down you know it). Hope knows that tomorrow is another day, that one decision or one conversation or one encounter can reset the path to a better future that you can’t even imagine yet. And that you just don’t know beforehand which one it is going to be this time. So you keep going.

You might have a vision, or you might have had one but lost touch with it, as your daily mess is too far away right now so you have a hard time seeing how you get from over here to over there. Hope hears you. Hope reminds you that you don’t need to see the whole path to be able to take a step. And then another one. Hope focuses you on the things that work, so you can start doing more of them. Making small changes, which then add up to the big change. It’s how most big changes or successes work anyway, despite what it looks like on social media. And hope knew that all along. You might be deep down the problem hole right now, but there is no point in wasting more of the energy you don’t have focusing on how deep and messy it is. 

Focus on how you get out. Hope here serves as the magical, ever-elusive “air hook”. You can tie a rope to it and start pulling, and, with hope, it actually works.

Hope also lets you build trust. Take that first step first, without having to wait for the other one to begin. Raise that topic. Have that conversation. Mention the thing you are afraid to mention. Take small risks, be mostly rewarded, and start being less alone in this. It is easier to be hopeful when you have a tribe of supporters. Hope invites participation and support from other humans (and some friendly ‘droids…). Hope is stronger when shared. This, in turn, paves the way for others so they can dare to keep going as well. Hope lifts everyone.

You'll Never Walk Alone

Gerry and the Pacemakers

When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark

At the end of a storm
There's a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark

Walk on through the wind
Walk on through the rain
Though your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And you'll…

Active Hope - Day 26

26th December 2018 (Boxing Day)

26 miles is the approximate distance of a marathon. Originally, from 1896 to 1908,
the distance was 25 miles (the same as that run by the legendary Greek soldier Pheidippides
when he from the Battle of Marathon to Athens to deliver news of a Greek victory, after which
he collapsed and died). The marathon distance only became 26.2 miles during the 1908 London
Olympics. Queen Alexandra requested that the distance was adjusted so the royal household
could see the race from Windsor Castle.

I over indulged yesterday and was over indulged. however, it was wonderful to spend time with the family. Today I am planning to take things quietly and spend time appreciating the gifts I have been given. I have been very spoiled but I am very grateful. 

Siobhan Sheridan is the Civilian HR Director at the UK Ministry of Defence. When I first made her acquaintance she was the Director of People and OD at the UK charity the NSPCC. Siobhan's career started in a customer facing role within financial services; it was clear that she had a flair for understanding and developing rapport with people. On joining the consumer lending business Capital One, her talents were acknowledged and she moved into HR, initially via training and development (she headed up the UK-based Corporate University), before eventually becoming HR Director for the Cards business. Siobhán moved out of London earlier this year and now lives on the coast in a stunning house with the most beautiful views of the sea. She is a popular public speaker (renowned for her pragmatic attitude and passion for doing the right thing). She is also a valued contributor on Social Media - her Twitter handle is @SiobhanHRSheri. 

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There have been two regular features of my Christmas these last few years. One of them is this series of Advent Blogs, the other is the time that I spend with thousands of others volunteering for Crisis at Christmas.

Arriving at Charing Cross Station in the mornings and walking along Whitehall towards the office I pass too many curled up bodies resting on crumpled cardboard, sheltering in doorways from the cold night air.  It breaks my heart to see the Big Issue seller with yet another set of new bruises and to hear the tale of the guy whose sleeping bag was set light the night before. 

As I pull my coat more closely around me I know that the chill I feel is not entirely about the temperature outside, but more from a sense of overwhelming despair about how some of the world's problems can ever be solved.

Joanna Macy says that

 ‘Grace happens when we act with others on behalf of our world.’ 

And I guess that is what I see at Crisis every year. People caring enough to act. Just a one example of that is a woman I will call Karen who volunteered for the first time about three years ago.

The first evening in a Crisis centre is a whirlwind rush of so many things. Guests are welcomed to a centre where they can eat, shower, get their clothes mended, see doctors and dentists, access the internet, make a call to a loved one, find a bed for the night. Each centre is run by a group of volunteers whose day jobs probably ill-prepare them for what they find themselves doing. Spending time talking with the guests is something we encourage all our volunteers to do, because many of our guest spend their days being ignored, avoided, or worse. Talking to them is one of the most important things that we do.

During the rush of that first evening I passed Karen a few times, as she sat quietly knitting and chatting to guests. 

There was something deeply calming about her presence and her focus and I found that I slowed a little every time I passed her. Later that evening I saw her talking to a young couple by the front door who were sleeping on the streets and scared to come in. Over the course of an hour she patiently coaxed them into the centre to eat, and later I spied her persuading the woman towards the showers. She came back half an hour later clearly delighted to be clean for ‘my man.’ And I watched somewhat hopelessly as the woman and her partner went off again into the night, saying they felt safer together on the streets than they would in a shelter they didn’t know.

Returning the following evening Karen asked if I would mind if she went to see if she could find the woman again, she’d been told by another volunteer that the woman had been seen earlier in the centre very angry and upset. Karen wanted to find out why. When she found her the woman explained that she had been sleeping on the streets for so long that her long dark hair had become thickly matted from tying it in elastic bands and chronic lack of care. There was a huge ball of knotted, matted hair at the nape of her neck, so thick and tight that when she tried to lay down to sleep it hurt her head. As a result, even when she could get to sleep she was frequently woken by the pain. It was clear she was in a lot of distress. After her shower of the evening before she had started to feel hopeful that perhaps the hairdresser might be able to help her. She was angry because she had been told that all they could do was to shave her hair off. Having her head shaved she said would make her feel even more ashamed than she already did. She was inconsolable, her hopes completely dashed.

Every single one of us I think has a reason for volunteering. Something that caused us to make the decision to do so. In talking with Karen about what her reason was she shared with me that she had lost her adult son in a car accident a year or so before. A proud, strong, elegant woman, she spoke of her loss gently and with just the faintest glisten of a tear in her eye.  

Her heartache was very present but so too was her warmth, her openness and her compassion.  

Over the course of the next few days I watch Karen sit with the woman and her partner for hours. She talked with them about their plans for the New Year, helped them get advice,  laughed with them, ate with them. And throughout all of that she combed. For hours and hours she gently teased, combed, untangled and snipped the woman’s hair. For three afternoons and evenings Karen worked with the patience that perhaps only a parent who has lost their own child could summon. 

On the last evening, they walked hand in hand to the hair salon again, where the woman was treated to her first proper haircut in many years. Beautifully blow dried she turned to the Karen and I watched as first they high-fived, and then giggling like teenagers collapsed into a huge tangle of a hug.

As the woman left that last evening Karen and I both said good bye to her and her partner. We never say ‘see you next year’ because we hope, that we won’t. And I’ve never seen them again. Karen returns every year and continues to channel her amazing compassion and patience into heartbreak, hope and high fives.

So, as I contemplate the start of Crisis again this year I hope, somewhat strangely perhaps, that my heart will be broken every day. Because as the poet David Whyte says:

‘Heartbreak is our indication of sincerity…..it may be the very essence of being human, or being on the journey from here to there, and of coming to care deeply for what we find along the way.’

I am lucky enough to care deeply about the work that I do both in my day job and my volunteering and am blessed to be surrounded by many other colleagues who do too. They make me want to do better every day because they deserve the best that I can possibly be. Crisis acts as a special reminder to me though every year.Whilst it is about finding homes for others I always notice that it helps me to come home to myself too. To remember some of the qualities that I want to strive to bring into my life and work every day.

‘The heart is the inner face of your life. The human journey strives to make this inner face beautiful. It is here that loves gathers within you. Love is absolutely vital for human life. For love alone can awaken what is divine within you. In love, you grow and come home to your self. When you learn to love and let yourself be loved, you come home to the hearth of your own spirit. You are warm and sheltered.’

                                                                                                                              John O’Donohue

Crisis also leaves me constantly amazed by just what we can achieve as human beings when we set our mind to do so. And each year it leaves me with a heart full of hope that we have everything we need to deal with the many challenges that our world faces today. We just need to crack on, and act on that hope, regardless of what others might say.

So I’d like to leave you with some of Joanna Macys words about Active Hope and to wish you all adventures in the New Year.

‘Active Hope is not wishful thinking.

Active hope is not waiting to be rescued by some savior

Active hope is waking up to the beauty of life

On whose behalf we can act.

We belong to this world.

The web of life is calling us forward at this time.

We’ve come a long way and are here to play our part.

With Active Hope we realise there are adventures in store,

Strengths to discover, and comrades to link arms with.

Active Hope is a readiness to discover the strengths

In ourselves and in others;

A readiness to discover the size and strength of our hearts

Our quickness of mind, our steadiness of purpose,

Our own authority, our love for life,

The liveliness of our curiosity

The unsuspected deep well of patience and diligence,

The keenness of our senses, and our capacity to lead.

None of these can be discovered in an armchair or without risk.

                                                     

                                                                                          Joanna Macey, Active Hope

Damn Good - Day 21

Friday 21st December 2018 

21 Shillings make a Guinea - although no longer circulated (it ceased being minted in 1814),
the term guinea survives as a unit of account in some fields, including horse racing, Oxbridge May
Ball tickets and the sale of rams to mean an amount of one pound and one shilling (21 shillings)
which is £1.05. It was the first English machine-struck gold coin, originally worth one pound sterling,
equal to twenty shillings, but rises in the price of gold relative to silver caused the value of the guinea
to increase, at times to as high as thirty shillings. From 1717 to 1816, its value was officially
fixed at twenty-one shillings.

I am not going to be back in the office until after Christmas - it has been so full-on over the past few days and weeks that that feels really weird. We had a great party last night. Today I am driving to Somerset to take my mother to hospital. All being well, she and I are looking forward to going out to dinner tonight with friends and some other members of the family. It will be wonderful to spend some quality time with loved ones. The older I get the more I appreciate the importance of love and relationships. Is there someone or some people you can see or renew contact with at this festive time? My mother is sliding into severe dementia; I am so glad that we made and cherished our moments together over the years, as you can never get that time back.

Today's post is reflective and open. It is by Sara Duxbury, whose post last year caused a lot of positive and active discussion about mental health, friendship and the workplace.  Sara is an amazing lady, full of energy and ideas; she works as a business psychologist and is Head of Commercial at Carter Corson. After studying Psychology, Sara commenced her career in Retail and held operational roles before moving into Learning and Development and through that into HR. She has been an award winning HR Director with particular expertise in Professional Services. Sara has an excellent reputation as a thought-leader and is an active and engaging member of the social media community; you can connect with her on Twitter (her handle is @SaraJDux).

All the illustrations and music in this post were selected by Sara herself.

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#MyStory – the sequel

If last year’s blog was about putting myself out there, this year is about how I lost myself out there.

When I wrote my Advent Blog this time last year (http://kategl.blogspot.com/2018/01/mystory-day-37.html)  the response I received was completely unprecedented. I was incredibly humbled by words of respect, admiration, love and the “we knew you were mad, and we love you anyway”. I was in fact quite speechless (which for those who know me, you will know the world must have been considerably quieter for a moment!). The whole experience at the time, felt like the ultimate high five!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmDzqWqTXa8

Martin Luke Brown - Opalite

When I reflect on the year that has passed since, I can see that there have been unexpected consequences, which have caused me heartache

Having a public support network meant that what I used to keep private, I now get support from my work colleagues and my friends – I have help. I bet you’re thinking how can this be a bad thing Sara? But all my coping strategies involved up until then… me. To now have people caring and wanting to share the burden was and is strangely difficult. I find it hard not to withdraw.

My self-confidence took a serious battering – I felt afraid and doubted myself. I still do on an hourly/daily basis. By being so honest to myself, I think I have made myself vulnerable and my imposter syndrome just LOVES that. I’m still learning how to channel that negative drain into positive energy.

My worst fear did come true – some people did and do judge me. Some do view my behaviour without understanding where it might be coming from. I think if they could spend some time inside my head, they might be kinder?

I’m overdoing it – my off-switch has completely left the building. You know you need to look at your wellbeing when you are conducting a three-week sleep study on yourself to determine if you are getting enough sleep! Maybe I think I need to prove myself more? (see previous two points)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5dmQ3QWpy1Q

Linkin Park & Kiiara – Heavy

I remember disagreeing with quite a few people last year who described me as brave. I feel more like this year I have needed to be brave, and I think I will need to continue to be brave to begin/carry on making good choices in this brave new Dux world.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HwPa71UZRaQ

The Wombats – Lemon to a Knife Fight

I can only do my best and I think I need to learn that my best is good enough. Hope is seeing photos of me like the below (thank you Kelly Swingler!) where I see captured, just for a moment, a glimpse of that girl who still gets so much joy from a wonky life (especially if it involves tacos!).

So, if you are someone who doesn’t struggle with your mental health, use your powers for good.

To quote this awesome girl I know: “My biggest hope is that by sharing my story, you who are sitting there battling on both sides, or you managing someone with mental health struggles. Look at me and see you CAN be the best version of you, be DAMN good at what you do, and be a bit bat-shit crazy” Here’s to hope…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_5WHnQd9pY

Curtis Walsh – Full Recovery