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.

Permanence & Meaning

Day 21 (Monday 21st December 2015)

21 shillings was the value of a guinea (after the amount was set instead of being a specified weight of gold).
Guineas derive their name from the area in Africa where the gold from which they were minted was mined.
Some things are still sold in Guineas - e.g. race horses, certain society Ball tickets and a few professional fees.
A guinea is deemed to be worth GBP £1.05. It was a convenient way of determining a fee, e.g. in the past
(before the existence of estate agents) when a house was sold for 4,000 guineas the vendor would
receive £4,000 and the solicitor would get 4,000 shillings (£200). Illustration: George III 1775 guinea coin 

I first got to know today's author on Twitter (his handle was @LizardVanilla, but he appears to have dropped out of the Twittersphere) and we cemented that relationship when he wrote for last year's Advent Blog series - FYI he wrote the most popular post of 2014/15. His name is Sandy Wilkie. He works as the Staff Engagement Lead at Bolton NHS Foundation Trust, as well as being a highly creative writer and events organiser. Given the importance of the sun in many ancient sites, I am delighted that Sandy's post is appearing today, the day on the cusp of the Winter Equinox (and shortest day of the year). This was often a day when shadows and sunlight held a deep meaning amongst the stones of our Celtic forefathers. Usually the Solstice falls on the 21st December, but it can occur on any day between 20th and 23rd December. This year the Solstice will be celebrated at dawn on the 22nd (i.e. tomorrow), so you have time to witness sunlight on/between stone, if you are near an ancient stone circle. The word "Solstice" comes from the Latin "solstitium" meaning the sun standing still.

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On the 9th August this year, I stood in a truly magical place: Temple Wood stone circle in Kilmartin Glen, Argyll. Actually it's two circles, South East and North West, in a small clearing with birch trees around the edges. The whole Kilmartin area is filled with evidence of Neolithic and early Bronze Age occupation.

 

You see, my mother's ancestors came from Argyll. They are likely to have come originally from the shores of Loch Awe (north-east of Kilmartin) in the late 17th/early 18th Century, one of the ancestral lands of the McArthurs. By the 1780s, there is firm evidence that the shepherds had become surface miners down the peninsula at Campbeltown. The rudimentary mining helped power the whisky stills; my great, great, great grandfather McArthur would have had coal dust on his face.

But back in Kilmartin, and from the late Neolithic period, there are numerous examples of cup & ring markings carved into earthfast rocks and standing stones. There are various theories behind what they mean; symbols to indicate ceremonial worship, perhaps a map of the valley showing new settlers arriving on the western coast where to travel, or a depiction of the stars in the night sky. 

But suspend judgement for a moment. Imagine standing in Temple Wood on a winters evening in 3,500 BC. There is a sharp frost, deer from the woods are grazing nervously. The clear night sky provides a starry canopy from horizon to horizon. A dweller from the Glen looks up. She spots an amazing streak with a blue tail, then a white tail. She falls to the ground, fearing the worst, but the comet passes. The next morning she describes the sight to her fellow settlers. One of them starts carving ring marks and lines to represent the apparition as it travelled across the sky.

Pictish Symbol stone, Aberlemno, Angus, Scotland 

There is a feeling of permanence in a landscape like Kilmartin. Stones that have been set and carved by ancient hands, stand today as a legacy. 

Stand in Temple Wood, listen to the birds, see the sheep grazing nearby, see the leaves fluttering in the wind. History & pre-history sits firmly on your shoulder. 

Yet the world of the 21st Century has a distinct feeling of impermanence; concrete tower blocks demolished after less than 50 years, workplaces that come and go in corporate takeovers, transient social media. MySpace becomes nobody's place. Big data is a fad one year, gone the next. We produce reports about targets that matter only in the moment. We blog vacuously about what we have had for dinner, our own self-importance and how HR is like some bloody science fiction movie. Fucking hell, some of us have truly vanished down the rabbit hole. We have lost our connection with the landscape, the seasons, our roots; and at times our very soul & identity.

So what is the true legacy that we leave as workplace professionals? Do we leave a record of comets in the sky, an inspiring legacy to future professionals? Or do we leave nothing but transient coal dust from our grubby workings in the policy & procedure mines?

19th Century Scottish miners and pit pony

Let's actually change things for the better. Let's make our workplaces more humane by adopting a holistic approach to situations and applying multi-disciplinary perspectives to organisational issues. Let's be creative, let's be build. Let's build the future of workplaces around the concept of interactive communities where there is balance, care, reciprocity and friendship. Let's be altruistic and show compassion to our people. These are the twin tails of the comet, white & blue.

Comet Hale-Bopp's two tails 

Let's stand in Temple Wood and create some permanence & meaning.

It's Behind You....

Day 8 (Tuesday 8th December 2015)

 

The Eight Immortals of Chinese Mythology are:
Li TieGuai 李鐵拐 , Zhongli Quan 鐘離權, Lan CaiHe 藍采和 , Zhang GuoLao 張果老 ,
He XianGu 何仙姑 , Lu DongBin 呂洞賓 , Han XiangZi 韓湘子 , Cao GuoJiu 曹國舅
They are viewed as signs of prosperity and longevity. Each immortal has a tool
through which his/her powers can be used to bestow life or destroy evil.

Today we have a wonderful, poetic piece written by Amanda Arrowsmith. I first met Amanda via Twitter, her handle is @Pontecarloblue, and then we met IRL (in real life) at a tweet-up. Amanda is great company and an inspirational and knowledgeable HR generalist, with a flair for enabling change, supporting significant M&A activities and enabling outsourcing. Although a London lass, she is currently working as part of the HR Bid team for Caledonian MacBrayne ferries, based in Glasgow, Scotland. Amanda's poem is powerful and can be interpreted on many levels, as a result I have provided only simple illustrations at the start and end.

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‘Comets are lumps of frozen water ice, gas and dust. As a comet approaches the Sun, it starts to heat up. The ice transforms directly from a solid to a vapor, releasing the dust particles embedded inside. Sunlight and the stream of charged particles flowing from the Sun – the solar wind – sweeps the evaporated material and dust back in a long tail. The comet's ingredients determine the types and number of tails.’

Definition of ‘Why do comets have tails?” from Hubblesite.org

My comet tale…..

As I got closer to you,

I felt myself thaw, felt

the sunlight from you warm

my bones

Parts of me that were

held, frozen in time and space,

started to release

To open

To thaw

And so with simple heat

from your virtual smiles I,

with a joy unfelt for some time,

was able to leave a tail of

memories

pain

experience

Now, when I feel the

cold coming

I know that there is light

I can release the dust and

it can be beautiful

Look, you can see behind me

the mix of my past and

the energy of your joy.

This is my present – my future

Comet Lovejoy

Each Moment Counts

Day 3 (Thursday 3rd December 2015)

3 Dimensional - classical physics theories describe 3 physical, spatial dimensions:
up/down, forward/back and left/right.
The Praying Mantis is thought to be the only insect capable of seeing in 3D

Today's contributor is Brett "Fish" Anderson, a man with a passion for people (especially his wife Valerie), God and life. He lives in Cape Town, South Africa and is actively involved in Media, after having originally trained as a teacher. He has a stuffed dolphin called No_bob - it would have been called "Bob", but it doesn't, you can see No_bob on Brett's Twitter profile picture). He is a poet, an author ("i, church" was published at the start of 2015), a devout Christian and blogger (you can read his thoughts on  Irresistibly Fish ). Brett was tagged into the invitation to join the series by one of last year's contributors, Trevor Black. Like Trevor, Brett is active on Twitter, often playing hashtag games to add a little delight, relief and silliment to the world, his handle is @brettfishA. Brett's piece is honest, open and raw but full of love.

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According to Wikipedia, a short-period or periodic comet is one that is 'generally defined as having orbital periods of less than 200 years'. 

That statement feels like a kick in the face as i think about my best friend fighting for his life in a hospital bed, having just been given weeks to live. 

Talk about short period.

In the distance a comet shoots past.

Actually, talking has been one of the hardest things of all. Knowing what to say - there are no words. Trying not to say anything stupid or hurtful or meaningless.

Trying to make the most of every last moment of connection - why does it take someone's imminent passing for us to jump to a place of making every moment count? 

Attempting to fit in all the words i want to be able to say before there comes a time when i will not get to say them, but without making it seem like i need to say them now in anticipation of the time when i won't get to say them. Because doesn't that just make it all the more real.

i take a moment to gaze at the comet, knowing that this moment might be all that i have as it will pass out of my sight and quickly disappear, at least to my naked eye. It is beautiful.

As is my friend. A life so well-lived and yet now cruelly cut short. When i am not around him my mind continues to flash back to moments that we spent together - happy memories, incredible connection. This guy is not just a friend. He is one of the friends. He was there besides me on the day and at the moment that i got married to my beautiful wife. Oh happy day that was with no hint or idea of what was to later sneak up and viciously attack his body. 

The comet is dying. It is jettisoning gas and dust at an incredible rate. But it is not that which is lost which catches my attention. It is that which is.

So it is with Rob. The cancer is the reality. But it is not our focus. Our eyes are drawn to the man, our minds are taken up with stories of how he lovingly and selflessly served those around him. How he loved his wife, family and friends well. How he continues to. Our sight is taken up with him. The community of people who he gathered together and lead so well. And leads so well, even in his sickness. It is on sporting moments and wild laughs and 3am rescues after a failed prank gone horribly wrong; on playing his guitar or passionately preaching; of gently rebuking and open-mindedly dreaming; early morning breakfasts and coffee; shared secrets. 

I look again and the comet is gone. A brief moment of awe and amazement at such a stunning celestial body. A moment of interruption and seized attention. 

The comet is no more. To my naked eye at least. And there will come a time when my friend too will pass. But he will not be gone. 

For he has left a much deeper mark on me than that.