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!

Twelve Hopes - Day 13

Thursday 13th December 2018

Thirteen is the number of British Colonies from which the United States of America
was formed - this is why the American flag has 13 stripes.

My musical week continues - tonight I am off to the O2 to be at the "Final Bow" of the iconic band, The Pretty Things, who, after 55 years of wowing audiences and fans, are performing their last electric gig. The band was formed by ex-Rolling Stone Dick Taylor and singer Phil May, and have influenced many of the world's most famous artists, including David Bowie, Bob Dylan and the Sex Pistols. I know that it will be wild. 

Today's piece is contributed by Mark Catchlove, the Director of the Insight Group at Herman Miller. Mark is a thought leader on the work environment and what occupiers and designers need to bear in mind when creating great places. If you get the chance to attend one of his events on workplace design and related research, I urge you to go.  I first encountered Mark on Twitter (you can follow him too - his handle is @markcatchlove). He writes an excellent blog and he will make you think. He always writes popular posts for the Adven Blog series, such as our need to be there and shine a light for others. This year's post is more personal to him - he is sharing his 12 hopes for Christmas. My hope is that Mark himself has a wonderful Christmas and an amazing year ahead. I suspect that he will have a peaceful and happy one full of smiles and laughter. Mark is musical - an enthusiastic and accomplished singer and guitarist. Mark is values driven, he does his bit to make the world a better place - such as by running youth clubs and Sunday schools and being a stalwart of his local community. 

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"Heartaches, Hopes and High Fives"

Christmas is a mix of all 3 but I wanted to focus on Hope.

Hope is a “feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen”
So here are my 12 hopes – 1 for every day of Christmas:

1. That we can agree to disagree – coupled with a sense of understanding and empathy.

2. That we can still have unity of spirit, even where there is diversity of thought.

3. That random acts of kindness are no longer random, but a part of every-day life.

4. That in this busy world we take some time to look around us, to observe, to enjoy, to contemplate.

5. That children can be themselves and are not driven into conforming to the educational norms which so often stifle creativity.

6. That we don’t always rely on data to prove what we already know and have called ‘common sense’ for years.

7. That we do not judge others that are different to us and we stop make sweeping generalisations that hinder our understanding.

8. That we can be the positive difference in someone’s life and have a lasting impact.

9. That good manners will be the norm again, where please and thank you return to our everyday vocabulary.

10. That we will take time to listen more and think before we respond.

11. That we are all given respect whatever our age.

12. That you will have a Christmas that outshines all your previous Christmases and it is one to remember for all the right reasons

“May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” Nelson Mandela

Raising a Glass

Day 25 (Christmas Day - Friday 25th December 2015)

25% of humans are dichromats according to Prof. Diana Derval. The colour nuances
we see depend on the number and distribution of cones (colour receptors) in our eyes.
Look at the above spectrum, if you see less than 20 colours you are a dichromat, like dogs,
which means you have 2 types of cone (and probably like wearing black, beige and blue).
If you see 20 - 32 nuances you are a trichromat with 3 cones (in purple/blue, green and red areas).
50% of us are trichromats. Seeing 33-39 colours makes you a tetrachromat, like bees. You have 4 cones
(in purple/blue, green, red and yellow areas. You are likely to find yellow irritating.
If you see more than 39 you are making things up - there are only 39 colours in the test
and your computer/smart phone probably only translated 35.

Like last year, in honour of her founding the Advent Blogs series back in 2011, the Christmas Day post is by Alison Chisnell. Alison is an inspiration to many of us - courageous, ethical, knowledgeable, compassionate and warm. She is an exceptional HR professional (in September she became the Head of HR for the Risk Consulting division of KPMG) and a devoted mother, a valued friend and an inspirational runner and trainee triathlete. She was one of the first to welcome me into the Twitter HR community (her handle is @AlisonChisnell) and I responded when she asked for contributors for the first Advent Blogs series. We are friends and I have huge professional and personal respect for her. She is an excellent, but sporadic, blogger - you can read her words on her blog - The HR Juggler.

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Can you see me? Can you see what I’ve done? My hands are dark with toil,

Coal miner's hands by HayNateHaywood

my brightness lights up the sky. 

Hale Bopp in 1997 - Credit Bob King

I persist, I endure, I inspire, I remember.

We are all authors of our own stories, we all choose how we want to remember our year. Comet tails and coal dust, beautifully juxtaposed, fleeting brilliance and relentlessly hard graft. Tangible progress others can see, incremental achievements visible only to ourselves. How human that we want to tell about them, to share, reflect and relate. This is me doing just that, knowing that they may only matter to me alone.

Time heals. If last year was dominated by redundancy, this has been the year of in-between, of embracing the not knowing what is coming next, of pushing some of my personal boundaries further than I thought I could. Ambiguity, uncertainty, discovery, adventure, pride.

This year I’ve had the gifts of time and of uncertainty. It’s been the only year I can remember where I have held three very different jobs and generous gaps between each, which have enabled me to reflect, savour, enjoy and grow. 

There has been coal dust, of course there has, moments both passing and persisting of self-doubt, apparently promising opportunities fading to grey and impatience for change to arrive.

What I choose to remember though, is this:

• Sitting in the morning sunshine of Sydney harbour, drinking coffee with my husband while my children play around me, savouring the sense of freedom and contentment, knowing that this moment has made the journey to that point entirely worthwhile. That without the personal upheaval and change, we wouldn’t have taken the leap of making the trip and that our horizons have grown as a result and that they will not shrink back.

• Running the London marathon in pretty much the form of my life, (almost!) effortlessly pacing 9.5 minute miles to well over 20 miles, the joy and excitement of crossing Tower Bridge with my good running friend, the enormity of crossing the finish line, knowing that I’d given it my all and achieved what I was capable of, the best version of my running self. It seemed impossible until it was done….and already, only a few months later, it starts to feel impossible to replicate!

• My first foray into triathlons, pushing myself out of my comfort zone, persevering with front crawl until I can finally now regularly swim well over a mile without stopping; plunging myself into a cold, slightly murky lake and discovering I love the freedom of open water swimming.

These are my comet tails, my marks in the sand, my experiences this year that remind me that I am capable of so much more than I think, that pushing boundaries holds its own rewards.

And yet, there have been quieter moments during the year that have changed me and my perceptions too. Those that don’t leave a trail of stars, but imprint their memory on my consciousness just the same. I struggle to articulate the power of the in-between, the glorious terror and freedom of declaring myself between roles, in transit, open to opportunities… the simultaneous sense of being rudderless and yet also liberated from being hemmed in by labels, restrictions, expectations. 

The power of choice, of self-control, of holding my nerve, of going with the flow, of trusting that things will work out, the understanding of what is within my control and the many things that are beyond it, the gradual emergence of a stronger, more resilient personal and professional confidence. Rather like the memory of the Sydney sunshine, that makes the journey fully worthwhile and one that, in hindsight, I would not change.

So, this Advent, may your comet tails shine brightly and illuminate your hopes for the year to come. May the coal dust shape our thinking and experiences, enabling us to find the diamond within that hard, dark, uncompromising rock, providing us with the energy and enthusiasm we need to move forward. May this Christmas time, this New Year be a happy, healthy, positive and prosperous one for you and your loved ones and let’s raise a glass to ourselves and each other. 

Merry Christmas!