I know pain - you can’t hurt me; I’ve seen defeat - you can’t stop me - Day 11

Tuesday 11th December 2018

11 was the number of the Apollo spaceflight that landed the first two people
on the moon on the 20th July 1969. To this day there are regular allegations
that the whole mission was/is a hoax with evidence such as a 'flapping flag'
and a star-free sky being used to substantiate these claims.

Today we have a very personal blog, written from the heart, by Gary Cookson. He is an HR, OD and L&D expert who runs a consultancy business, EPIC HR. Gary is a key member of the HR community and I am proud to call him my friend.

However, the most important thing in Gary's life is his family - his adored wife and four wonderful children. His eyes light up whenever he talks about them. 

Gary is a caring, brave and wonderful man. He took note of my plea for interested parties who might want to run the Advent Blog series to contact me. I really do believe that the series (and you the readers) would benefit from a fresh pair of eyes and a new focus. 

Let me tell you a bit more about Gary: his business, EPIC, helps people to Evolve, Perform, Improve and Compete. Gary himself is physically competitive - a keen sportsman, he is a regular participant in triathlons and has managed some representative sports teams. Prior to running his own business Gary worked in HR in various sectors including Housing, Education, Not-for-Profit and Public (for the DBS). Prior to HR he qualified as a secondary school teacher (teaching History). He has a way with words - he blogs on the EPIC site and you can also catch his wisdom on Twitter (his handle is @Gary_Cookson) as well as hearing him at various conferences and events throughout the year.

I a delighted that he has come forward, as I can think of few who would match him in running this series. I am quite looking forward to being a contributor...

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The theme for this year’s advent blog series is Heartaches, hopes and high fives. The announcement of the theme prompted some deep reflection on my part - as per usual, my year has contained all of these in good measure, and, as usual, my blog is a personal account of this.

I’ll take them in theme order even though as I’ve planned this blog I’ve thought about things in chronological order. The quote which makes up the title of this blog is one of my favourites and comes from the ex WWE wrestler Tazz, but somehow seems appropriate here.

Heartaches

I’ve had a few.

My mum, who last year I said was having treatment for cancer and who I was estranged from, went into remission for part of the year but the cancer returned and she has resumed treatment. Perhaps the only good thing to have come from this is that it has helped us begin to repair our relationship.

My brother's partner, only in her early 30s, is also undergoing similar treatment and it seems out of proportion to be affecting our family like this.

My youngest son, at the time only 5 months old, was rushed into hospital for 3 days with suspected meningitis and whilst we were glad it ended up not being, it was still a serious virus and a very worrying time for us. 

My eldest daughter, now 13, decided this year that she no longer wished to live with me half the week as she had done since aged 3, and has gone full time to her mum's. Neither she nor we have any real explanation for this, but it shows no sign of changing and I’m heartbroken that someone to whom I was so close, for whom I was her hero and prince, who I loved beyond measure, can suddenly decide everything has changed for no apparent reason. I barely see or speak to her now and it’s left a massive gap in my life and heart. Worse is the effect this has on her two younger siblings, one of whom cries every time the elder daughter comes and goes, and wants nothing more than to play with her, and the younger of whom is growing up not knowing his eldest sister.

And finally I’m reminded of my own physical weaknesses. The male members of my family have a history of heart disease that strikes in their 40s. Knowing this, I’ve kept myself more fit than any other family member for a decade and had thought I might buck the trend, but there have been signs in the last year that my body thinks differently and I’m having tests to check what is going on with my heart, which aches.

Hopes

I obviously remain hopeful that all the heartaches will resolve themselves but in addition to these I have the following specific hopes.

That my eldest son passes his driving test and does well in his mock A levels, giving him a clear path to University.

That my two youngest children make a successful transition into full time school and nursery respectively.

That my wife makes a successful return to work after her maternity leave ends. 

And I hope my business, EPIC, continues to grow and develop in its second year. Even though I’ve done well in year one, I would like to be able to secure more income streams and add more value to clients and be able to relax more. 

High fives

Thankfully there have been lots of these. In no particular order:

My business was set up and has exceeded my wildest dreams in terms of its success. I did it at the right time and for the right reason and that fuel has helped me do things I didn’t think possible.

My eldest son got some impressive GCSE results and even bettered my own tally. He also began to realise his potential in our main sport and began to surpass my own levels of achievement and ability (even though I had a great year myself).

I’ve seen my eldest daughter develop some real and unexpected artistic talent, previously no one in the family has possessed this.

And I’ve seen my fourth child born and grow so well, with the high five going to my wife who managed a home birth with no pain relief!

Conclusions

Apologies for the very personal blog but it seemed appropriate for the theme. Often this year I have focused on the heartaches as these tend to dominate one's thinking and emotions, but having a theme like this reminds me, and all of us, that life doles out heartaches, hopes and high fives in roughly equal measure, not necessarily equally in one given year but certainly across a lifetime.

One can dwell on any of these areas but remember - they’re all there and more will come in each category too.

If, like me, you’ve not had a perfect year, then maybe, like me you’ve had an average year.

And that’s neither good or bad. It’s a sign that you’re living your life.

Doing your best.

When things go well, celebrate the successes, but when things go wrong, learn from the fails and stresses.

You’re going to have more of both. Get used to it. It’s called living.

Gary

Taming Your Adversity - Day 35

Day 35 (Thursday 4th January 2018)

35 years on top of a tall pillar in an old temple sited near Aleppo in Syria - the
chosen abode of Saint  Simeon the Stylite (it is his feast day today).  He lived on
a platform 1 meter square (surrounded by a baluster) on the pillar that was fifty foot
from the ground until 459AD. The Saint had spent the previous two years on a 9 foot
pillar but found the general public intrusive. He was consulted by emperors and
leading theologians. His was provided with food by local boys who would climb the pillar
with parcels of flat bread and goats milk or else he raised up food, drink and messages via a rope.

Today is my wedding anniversary - 26 years!! We are going to out celebrate with our sons at a smart restaurant in central London. It is amazing how time flies. I can remember as though it was yesterday making my way on my father's arm through Middle Temple on our way to the Temple Round Church - it was drizzling and I had a long cream train to my dress, so keeping it out of the damp was a challenge. My bridesmaids were dressed in dark green velvet and we all had garlands of holly, ivy and winter berries. My shoes were heeled with the same ornate cream silk that formed part of my dress.

Today's post is by Mike Shaw. It is nearly a celebration day for him too - it's his birthday in a few days. Happy early birthday Mike! Mike says more about his background below (it has had some significant ups and downs), but you might be interested to know that he studied Sociology and Psychology at Liverpool, before completing an MA in Sociology at Leeds. He is also a qualified coach. 

Mike lives in Manchester and, after commencing his career in Education, crossed into the commercial world in 2011, commencing as a Learning Consultant. Over the years he has built on his skills and he undertook further personal development and training, before accepting a permanent role eight months ago as an L&D Advisor for Mitie Plc. He believes in fairness, diversity and inclusion at the heart of the workplace and espouses the use of learning and development to enhance performance and achieve strategic aims. Mike writes a blog, Shaw Things and is active on social media - you can find him on Twitter under @MikeShawLD or on Snapchat as MikeShawLD.

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Running in the cold and wet isn’t exactly my idea of fun. Yet there I was in my shorts and t-shirt trying to avoid the puddles and dodge the car splashes, and I was beginning to wonder if I’d made a mistake going running in this weather. Strangely, though, I felt a kind of exhilaration. I felt a resolve, that despite the abysmal weather and the burning cold sensation, I would keep going. Somehow, the adverse conditions seemed to conspire to speed me up and build my determination.

As I ran, it hit me that this experience, right now, was a useful metaphor for my past couple of years and, indeed, beyond. To be honest, at that exact moment I was surprised I was able to think at all, but somehow despite the adverse conditions, or maybe because of them, I had clarity of purpose in what I was doing and, critically, a vision for what I wanted to achieve. In this case it was not only to finish this run but also to set myself a target of running a half-marathon.

Earlier in the year I wrote about the importance of creating my own sunshine, and now I realise that this goes alongside navigating the cold and rain. As 2017 comes to an end it’s naturally got me reflecting on the past two years. The beginning of 2016 was a time of change for me. I wasn’t sure what my future held, where I’d be working, or even what I wanted from my future career. Nevertheless, I embarked upon a new professional life. However unknown or scary it might have been, in my eyes, I only had one choice - grab life and make the most of it.

In the words of Friedrich Nietzsche and Kelly Clarkson, “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger!” It might sound glib, especially in a pop song, but if I look back at my past 30 years, that is how I have tried to live, and like many, I have had my own modest set of hurdles to clear. At 16 I failed my O’ levels. At 19 I barely passed my A’ levels.  At 33, as a married man, I came out as gay and split from my wife.  At 40 I had a relationship break-up. At 44 I found myself in a toxic and stressful work environment. And at 49 I had a ‘career crisis’, followed by a ten-month journey to establish a new one.  

As I look at each of these written in front of me, some of them having considerably faded, although they have been incredibly impactful on me and on others, with the lapse of time their magnitude has lessened and they seem like part and parcel of life. I know that people experience vastly more challenging events in their lives, and I am in awe of how they often emerge with an even greater capacity for achievement. I feel I’ve been exceptionally fortunate in life so far, but you deal with what’s in front of you, or as they say in snooker, you play the balls.

Without sounding grandiose, with each life event, I have attempted to use it and grow from it. Rather than get knocked down, I guess today we’d say that I demonstrated resilience.

Though I'm sure they did, I don’t recall people talking much about resilience years ago. When reading about psychological resilience, I like Brad Water’s description of it as, “riding the waves of adversity, rather than being pulled under by the torrent”.  I think this nicely describes the, sometimes, fine line of adversity. That said, I don’t want to misrepresent myself as someone who was close to ‘going under’ and, somehow, managed to embrace the positivity in a moment of challenge. That’s not really me, or at least that’s not my self-perception. Without doubt, there have been times of darkness but I'm a pragmatist. I'm an optimistic cynic and I'm conscious that I don’t want to set myself as an example of how to deal with life’s stuff.

I don’t particularly want to make this into a ‘top tips’ blog but as I’ve reflected, it has helped me to identify my own strengths and, of course, areas for development. Maybe others will take something from it, maybe they won’t. We all have our ways of approaching and dealing with things. Interestingly, I think my own pragmatism sometimes stops me from considering what I draw upon. But in the midst of my reflections, I have realised these have served me well:

Doing new things! I’ve loved developing new skills, such as making videos and podcasts, doing an Ignite talk, and blogging, to mention just a few. In a non-work context I’ve run my first 10K, been to my first jazz concert, and experienced my first live opera. All these, in very different ways, have been enlightening and invigorating.

Taking a “don’t ask, don’t get” approach. The worse that can happen is that people say no, but they rarely do. So, I’ve asked and, through people’s generosity, I’ve got!

Being creative. I don’t particularly consider myself a creative person, despite my O’ level Art (yes, I did pass that!). However, creativity comes in many forms and, of course, as a designer of learning I am exercising creativity.

Using humour and having fun. I use this a lot. I try to see the funny or lighter side of life. A well-placed joke or a bit of play with your colleagues can do wonders.

Being kind to myself. I try not to place too much pressure on myself to always be doing positive and productive activities. I aim to be good enough in what I do and, sometimes, putting things off until tomorrow is absolutely fine.

Finding good people.  As I have written about before, I have built up my networked and learned so much from people. I’ve gained encouragement, confidence, new skills, and so much more.

Using positive self-talk. Sometimes easier said that done but my inner voice is usually my friend and able to tell me that I will be fine. So far it’s been right!

Although, at first, the challenges in my life knocked me back, I know that each and every one of them acted as a driving force. Without these events, in all likelihood, I would have travelled a very different path and my life would look very different. I haven’t let these events define me but, without doubt, they have shaped me. Out of my adversity, emerged hope, and out of hope came new opportunities and new life. My learning is that, whatever the weather, I need to keep running, because that is how I grow.

Ubele - Day 5

Day 5 (Tuesday 5th December 2017)

Five British pounds  - the face value of the Royal Mint's 2017 commemorative

uncirculated Christmas coin (they are selling for £13). It has been designed

by Edwina Ellis. Last year, The Royal Mint struck the UK's first official Christmas coin, 

which was the Christmas Nativity Story £20 fine silver coin. Only 30,000 of these were issued; 

it was designed by Bishop Gregory Cameron, who created the design for the last 'round pound'.

According to the Greek historian Herodotus, writing in the fifth century BC, the Lydians 

were the first people to have used gold and silver coinage, 

illustrated on only one side with a lion or other sacred animal. 

The days are pounding by - I don't know about you, but I seem already to be embedded in seasonal cheer and events. I know that I am fortunate to have so many  wonderful friends and contacts. However, I hope I make it to 2018.

Today's post is a treat. It has been written by the extraordinary polymath Hilary Gallo. A precocious and highly intelligent child/adolescent, Hilary commenced his career as a lawyer with a top global firm. He soon realised that for personal satisfaction he needed to do something more creative and so founded his own business - in a way this initial venture reflects his on-going passion for enabling individuals to stand out and shine. He returned to the law within a tech environment, solving problems (something his is good at) prior to stepping into the world of commerce and outsourcing, where he honed his negotiation skills, before jumping ship to become a consultant. Increasingly he found himself focussing on people-related matters. In 2011 he founded Consensum and spends his time on enabling people and helping encourage power without power. He holds retreats for executives looking to change the way they approach work and life, is a trained mediator and runs confidence-building workshops in schools. He is an exceptional writer, speaker and coach. He is a CEDR Accredited Mediator and a Meyler Campbell Executive Coach (accredited by WABC and the SRA) and a Realise2 Accredited Strengths Coach and is also Lumina Spark, Emotion and Leader Accredited. His detailed career history on LinkedIn is here. 

Hilary lives in North Hertfordshire in the UK with his family. He loves the outside and is often to be found on water (or helping people who are on it), or walking in the glorious countryside near his home. It is great to have him here as part of this community.

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Sometimes it is OK not to know. Sometimes it can even be good to be confused and lost for a while. Times of not knowing, of feeling about in the dark, are a place we have to go through in order to find something new. 2017 has felt like this to me at many times and in the all too frequent dark moments I keep reminding myself of this; darkness is only an interim stage.

In the confusion, some events stand out. One happened this autumn as I opened our front door to Shelia. Shelia looked me in the eye resolutely with stiff backed purpose, as she always does, and said “I suppose you are going to be all difficult this year again?” Stunned and somewhat lost for words, I simply responded to my near neighbour in our quiet village, “Good morning Shelia”.

I’d seen her coming down the path for this yearly event and, as I’d learnt to do over the years, had gone upstairs to get a heavy supply of change from my bedside table. This meant at least that I was able to respond by dropping a decent weight of coins into her collecting box whilst I asked how she was; trying to avoid her tray of poppies.

The year before I had tried to explain to Shelia that I’d happily give money to the collection but that I’d rather not have any poppies. I told her that our family didn’t wear them any more as we weren’t so sure about the tradition of remembrance and its purpose in the modern world.

Knowing Shelia of old I’d trod carefully and we’d had, what I thought of, as an honest exchange of views. I’d hoped that she’d at least understood me as I had sought to understand her. Now, I knew that this wasn’t so. I’d upset her. Also, just like last year, I’d failed in another sense; I still came away from the encounter with the poppies I no longer wanted.

A few weeks later, on Remembrance Sunday itself, I was sitting with my daughter, Anna, who is 15 and we started to talk about how she understood the idea of remembrance and how it had been presented at school. Put simply she didn’t get it. I explained how I understood it and she was clear. “I get that” she said “But how is that helping us going forward?” she asked as we both went on to question the divisive behaviour and the rising levels of violence in the world that we’d seen in 2017.

With Anna’s question in mind my thoughts went back to another woman, equally as strong as Shelia but very different. I’d met Mama D when she’d stood up to lead an exercise at a gathering I’d attended in North London in the weeks after the Grenfell Tower disaster. The event had been a coming together of community groups seeking answers to change at the grass-roots level.

The group descended into the very talking we’d promised to get away from, and Mama D, bursting with energy, had suggested we get up, get moving and do something physical. Several of us got up with her and followed her instructions which were to close our eyes and to take ourselves back to the first dawn on a barren planet, stripped back of anything we knew.

Once we found ourselves fully in that space Mama D encouraged us to feel the first stirrings of the morning as the sun made the promise of impending light to us and, as the sun rose, to move physically into possibility of the new world that was dawning before us and of which we were a part. My whole body felt warmed through with fresh possibility as I reached forward to embrace the light of that first dawn.

When we all opened our eyes together all of us went through a surprised and startled moment when we realised that we were all making the basically the same shape. All of us had our hands up, outstretched with our fingers spread in the shape of a tree. Our bodies were open, stretching out for possibility, for light and for connection. This wasn’t just me feeling this; this was a thing we all shared.

I later learnt that Mama D works with a community organisation called “Ubele” which is derived from the Swahili for “The Future”. Ubele is a community-building organisation that seeks to increase the capacity of the African Diaspora community in the UK to lead and to create their own social initiatives from the ground up. Tired of waiting for the central or local government to help people, they are helping those same people to help themselves.

Moving forward into 2018 I don’t want to repeat my mistake of unnecessarily upsetting the Shelias of this world or of forgetting the lessons of the past, but I do think that the ways of seeing that we have, and the framing narratives we live by unquestioned, do have to be looked at and that not everyone will always agree. I say this because I don’t believe that fiddling with the answers we already have will solve the systemic problems the like of which we saw at Grenfell Tower.

As I gather my thoughts in this traditional period of Advent my feeling is to be mindful of tradition and of the past but to be fundamentally where I was with Mama D. on that day. I want to build things afresh, keen to embrace a new dawn of a new day. In an openly embraced new dawn we all have the opportunity to be feeling good.