(Your love keeps lifting me) Higher and Higher

(Your love keeps lifting me) Higher and Higher  

Day 3 (Saturday 3rd December 2016)

3-time winner of the Tour de France, British cyclist Chris Froome,

crossed the finish line arm-in-arm with his Team Sky mates on 24th

July 2016. Froome won in 2013, 2015 and 2016 and is the first man to 

successfully defened his title for over 20 years. He is just the 8th rider

to win at least 3 Tours de France, joining Belgium's Phillipe Thys,

Louison Bobet of France and American Greg LeMond on 3. The record

of 5 Tour wins is held jointly by Jacques Anquetil & Bernard Hinault of

France, Belgium's Eddy Merckz and Miguel Indurain of Spain.

Today's blog is joy to read - it is always a pleasure to find that people's lives are full of love and learning. In this very open and personal piece, Gary Cookson tells us how his life has changed, having rediscovered love and now appreciating the fact that he is both loved and loveable. In some ways his blog can be read as a love letter. It is certainly an honest reflection on his year. If you remember from last year's series, Gary told us (on Boxing Day) what it was like to job-hunt and how, by not trying too hard, he landed a suitable role. Gary, in this year's post, touches on the lingering pain he still feels after 12 years in a housing trust he loved and was proud to have helped, having it change for the worse around him and having to leave. Since February he has been the Director of HR at Trafford College. Gary has high standards and is driven, both in and outside work (he is a triathlete, trainer, tutor, dedicated father and spouse) - he does not shirk from seeking to improve both himself and the environment in which he operates. In this post he touches on the complex issue of having a satisfactory work/life balance.

Gary is a natural networker and active on social media - he tweeted that he was writing this post back in November, without giving anything away. His Twitter handle is @Gary_Cookson. He is also a prolific blogger - you can read his posts on his blog, HR Triathlete or catch many of them on LinkedIn.

Gary has shared with us his own photos that record magical moments from his year.

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HEARTS

I got married this year. I'd been married before and the secret joy of marrying again is realising that you made so many mistakes first time round, without even knowing, and by marrying again you get the chance to put right what once went wrong (to steal a Quantum Leap quote). I hadn't realised that, having had my heart torn into tiny shreds some years ago, I had it in me to love again and most importantly to be loved.

In the immediate years after my painful divorce I focused my attention of my children, only having two at the time. I didn't think my heart had capacity to love anyone else and as a human being I became very shallow and self centred as a result, not valuing friendships or relationships.

And then I met Katie, and in time we had our own child, and its obvious that ones' heart DOES have capacity to love more no matter what you think, that it just GROWS.  And as Katie wants us to have another child in the future (no.4 for me if so) I'll probably test that theory further in the years to come.

The wedding was fantastic, taking place on St.George's Beach near Paphos, Cyprus at the end of a week long holiday that I thought I couldn't better but in fact only had to wait a fortnight to do so.

On that day, 26 August, my heart became whole again and I felt loved, and full of love.  I have not experienced a more perfect day and I don't want to.  I found my heart again on St.Georges' Beach, and part of it will always be there.

HEIGHTS

Two weeks after our wedding we went on honeymoon - a cruise round the Norwegian Fjords.  This was something from our bucket-list and the four days we spent in Norway itself saw me reach heights of beauty I didn't even think possible.  Norway is my new favourite place and I'd live there in a heartbeat (if I could afford it).

Honeymoons are invariably special events and I truly believe I may never experience those heights again, though I'll try. I certainly don't plan on having another honeymoon, partly because I want it to be some kind of pinnacle in my life.

Bergen was spectacular, ascending the funicular Floibanen to Mt.Floyen and looking down on what seemed like the whole of Norway. But we hadn't seen anything yet.  Standing at the bottom of the Trollveggen the following day in Andalsnes made me realise how the heights of Norway were something I could spend my entire life scaling.  And even then we hadn't got to the best bit - walking up the mountain to the Briksdal Glacier in Olden exposed me to a level of peace and beauty, a new height altogether, that I didn't think I'd ever experience.  Standing in front of the glacier, I have never felt so calm and had all my senses heightened so much.

 

I'd love to go back, to try to experience those heights again.

So this year for me, on a personal level, has been all about hearts and heights.

HOLLOWS

My hollows have been entirely professional this year.  Something has been missing.  I don't know what.  I feel as if, professionally, I'm searching for something and until I find it, I'll be hollow.

I started the year leaving the organisation I'd spent 12 years turning into an amazing workplace, and then 1 year watching it change around me and all my work be undone.  I used this story in my Ignite-Max poem at #CIPDNAP16 and tried to express how hollow the whole experience had made me, but also how it had helped me realise how I can rebuild and start again, something I've been doing in my new role since I started in the early part of the year.

But even now, the hollow feeling persists.  Something's not quite right, professionally, and the sharp contrasts with how high I've flown in my personal life haven't helped by exposing an area that isn't as perfect for me, so I've clearly got work to do.

The feeling actually makes me angry at times, irritable and short-tempered, which isn’t the person I want to be.

I guess I'm searching for something to fill the hollowness inside me.  But I don't know what it is that will fill it or even if I'll feel less hollow when I find it.

All I do know is that, if and when I figure it all out - watch out.

A Story of Hope - the Fourth H Word

A Story of Hope - the Fourth H Word

Day 2 (Friday 2nd December 2016)

2 choices were given to eligible voters in the UK Referendum

that took place on Thursday 23rd June 2016.

England voted strongly for Brexit, by 53.4% to 46.6%, 

as did Wales, with Leave getting 52.5% of the vote and Remain 47.5%. 

Scotland and Northern Ireland both backed staying in the EU. 

Scotland backed Remain by 62% to 38%, while 55.8% in 

Northern Ireland voted Remain and 44.2% Leave.

Today's piece is full of emotion and depth.  It is contributed by Michele Armstrong, the MD of Acorn Principle Plus, which she established in 2003. Michele is a mindfulness specialist and Head of Coaching for Mindful Talent, which established a working partnership with Acorn earlier this year. Michelle is passionate about coaching and the need for ethics and standards. She was appointed Head of the Association for Coaching Scotland in 2004. She demonstrates an impressive drive for personal growth and learning - she studied for a BA in Community Education at The University of Edinburgh, in the early 1990s, and since then has attained an MSc in Neuroscience of Leadership from Middlesex University and a further MSc in Mindfulness (graduating this year) from the University of Aberdeen. Michele is based in Edinburgh. Prior to founding her own business, Michelle was an Executive Coach for the Buccleugh Estates. As a child I spent every summer in Scotland and the stretch of the river Nith on which I fished (and in which I occasionally swam) was next to some of the Buccleuch lands - amazing countryside and passionate people working to ensure sustainable economic development for the individuals who worked on, and the communities living near and engaging with, the natural resources. Hard not to be well-grounded after the experience of being with people working to ensure the continuity of beautiful, sustainable environments. You can follow Michelle on Twitter, her handle is @micheleatacorn

As you will see from her following words, Michelle has a large heart and considerable resilience. When not helping and supporting others, Michelle is a keen amateur gardener. She likes seeing things grow. It is a pleasure having her as the second contributor of this year's Advent Blog series. 

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In considering the theme of #Advent Blogs 2016 – Heights, Hearts & Hollows, my mind was filled with so many thoughts I wanted to share under each of these topics. I spent a few days sitting with my mind full of ideas, then started to get all my thoughts out onto paper by journaling freely, until the story began to emerge. At times words would pour out in a flood and confuse my senses; at other times I would stare at a blank page in the way I imagine Ted Hughes might have done as he waited for his Thought Fox to appear.

The following poem by Rumi (and other poems I find inspiring) let me view my experiences from a different position; a place from which I could look back on the hollows (instead of from within) and upwards and onwards to new heights – enjoying the promise of things to come.

The Guesthouse

This being human is a guest house

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honourably.

He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond. ~ Rumi

The story I share with you now represents a manicured version of the words, thoughts and feelings that have been showing up at my guesthouse since the untimely death of my daughter almost three years ago. Yes, the ‘crowd of sorrows’ have been here, along with anger, disbelief and pain, as well as many thoughts I regarded as dark and shameful. And I don’t mind admitting that I was far from able to ‘meet them at the door laughing’. 

However, it is the ‘unexpected visitors’ I want to write about today, because this is a story of hope – the fourth H word.

From Hollows to Hope

My time spent in the ‘hollows’, although intense, was temporary, and arguably served some kind of purpose. At times, I felt like I was locked in a dark prison cell, in solitary confinement, alone and with no way out. 

My daughter’s death felt meaningless, unfair and isolating, and although I desperately tried to make sense of it, none came. I was seeking solutions to something there were no real answers to.

After a while, I became aware that there were no locks or chains holding me in the hollows; I was choosing to stay there, wallowing. I experienced fleeting moments of fresh awareness and glimpses of light; they told me there was hope.

With hope, I felt the darkness grow softer. The heaviness felt lighter. I felt I’d made space for new visitors to the guesthouse. Hope is slow to come, but it comes.

Anger still came and went, each time pointing the finger at something or someone different:

• myself (shoulda, woulda, coulda)
• ‘them’ (why doesn’t anyone prepare us for death – they know it’s going to happen)
• The government (well, why not!?)

Hope was a constant visitor, making it possible for me to ‘be here now’, to exist in this moment. To sit with sadness and let it be, to acknowledge the shame and doubt before letting them go; and to allow memories that, although sad, would bring joy to visit me too. I learned that I didn’t need to hold onto my guests because each one will come and go if I accept that ‘this too shall pass’.

Hope transforms Hearts

From somewhere in my memory I remembered the lotus flower that begins life in the murky depths of a muddy pool where there seems little hope of new growth or any sign of life. In some traditions, the bud of the lotus symbolises potential. Wrapped within the bud are all the tiny leaves that will one day grow out of the mud and rise above the dirty water to share their beauty with the world. The open flower symbolises an open heart.

At the time I’d been studying several courses that challenged me to view the world and my experience of it through various lenses. I particularly liked (and learned from) the ULab course (based on Otto Scharmer’s ‘Theory U’) and studies in mindfulness. Both had taken me along a path where I was learning to let go of my limited understanding of things, to listen at a deeper level, to be still and to hear what my heart was telling me. Now that I was experiencing life from a completely different perspective, and nothing seemed to make sense any more, I let go of the theory and grasped onto what was real and meaningful, and still felt tangible enough to hold onto through my grief. I was learning to open my heart, to know what it is to feel without being able to hide from the feelings and to allow myself to lean into my vulnerability.

I came to realise that I was not alone; in fact, the opposite was true. I am surrounded by love from family and friends and I am connected, on many levels, to the people who share this world with me. 

I’ve realised that this human connection gives rise to spiritual growth, and opens the door to many new visitors to my guesthouse, and to old friends who I’d almost forgotten. Hope was the catalyst in reintroducing me to the presence of love, faith, kindness and compassion. As each of these grew stronger, the ‘crowd of sorrows’ grew smaller. 

My heart continues to ache, and there’s a space in my life that I still have to navigate around. However, I’m learning to welcome vulnerability, sorrow and sadness, and I am grateful for their visits. 

With them comes a sense of the joys and the good times that, for now, are locked in the memories that accompany the group on their visits. 

One of my favourite poets, Kahlil Gibran, talks about our relationship with our children in his book, The Prophet. He said:

“Your children are not your children.They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.They come through you but not from you,And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

…You may house their bodies but not their souls,For their souls’ dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams." 

Writing about death he said, 

“And when you have reached the mountain top, then

           you shall begin to climb”.

Reaching the Heights

Back at the start of the story, I said my current perspective enabled me to look ‘upwards and onwards to new heights – enjoying the promise of things to come’. This is true. In the last few months, I’ve turned a corner and am building a new way of life that embraces this new, open-heartedness that has emerged out of the muddy hollows. When my daughter died, her two small children came to live with my husband and I, and our life was thrown into a completely new orbit as ‘kinship carers’. Amidst the grief, my husband and I rose to the challenge and slowly redefined what life means to us.

Life’s transitions and changes can be hard at the best of times; at the worst of times I felt like I wasn’t going to make it. And yet, here I am to tell the tale.

Gibran went on to say, in his writings about death,

“You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?”

I discovered that hope transforms the heart. I learned that we are not alone on this planet – ever – even when it feels like we are. We are all connected and if we can learn to open our hearts to feel that connection, and to be led by our hearts to build stronger connections through kindness and compassion, then we will genuinely experience the heart of life and begin to climb.

“In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring”

- Kahlil Gibran, 1995