Father’s Day

Earlier this week I was going through some old papers, searching for news cuttings which Dad had kept that connected us as a family, to the local area. Leafing through the stack of documents, I found much more than I was originally looking for. I uncovered some of Dad’s old school reports, his St John’s Ambulance certificates, and his membership of The Noddy Club, carefully stored in an envelope post marked February 1965.

Noddy Club

I also found Mum and Dad’s birth, marriage, and death certificates. Alongside these papers, I had stored a few sentences, hand written in 2012 by our then nine year old daughter Keira. These sentences form the eulogy which she wrote, and asked to read at Dad’s funeral. I thought you might like to take a look.

IMG_9675

As you might imagine, this piece of paper stopped me in my tracks. I remember at the time, how proud I felt that someone so young felt able to contribute to a funeral in such a meaningful way. It turns out I still have that feeling. I’m not particularly big on ‘Hallmark Days‘, yet they can and do offer us moments to reflect, and be thankful. If your Dad is around I hope you get time to see him today, and if not, may he be in your thoughts.

‘We’re only immortal, for a limited time’. N Peart.

The Art of Resilience : Video

At short notice, Neil Usher asked me to give a short talk at Corenet earlier this year. Neil’s a friend, so I said yes, and worried about it later! The event was filmed, and until this weekend, I’d forgotten that the audio/video team sent me an unedited copy of my session. I stumbled upon it while putting together a speaker proposal for an event taking place next Spring, and having cringed my way through it (does anyone actually like watching themselves on playback?) – I thought I’d share it with you too, I hope you find it useful. The clip clocks in at just over ten minutes, so you might want to grab a beverage of your choice before you start watching.

Footnote. This was the first time I shared a stage with some of my own original artwork.

 

Time To Talk

The longer I left it, the more difficult it became.

I’ve not been feeling well lately. When I say lately, I mean months and months, maybe even a year or two…I’m not entirely sure. What I do know is that I’ve been carrying this unwellness around in my head, keeping it from my family. Wanting to talk, and never knowing what to say.

I’ve played conversations out in my head over and over again. They nearly always seem to end badly and I take that as a sign that silence is probably the better option. I choose to isolate and withdraw, most notably from those closest to me. Over time, I slowly become aware of three things. A lack of self care, a lack of motivation, and a surfeit of anger, most of which I internalise. It’s fair to say these things are not constant, and there are better things in the mix too, however this unwelcome trio are occupying too much space.

What might it take for things to shift?

Last week, I stumbled on this photographic tweet from Holly Davis, the poem is by Rupi Kaur.

This idea has always resonated with me and my work. One of the biggest causes of friction and failure when it comes to change and organisational development, is our reluctance to take responsibility. It’s easier to apportion blame than take responsibility, yet apportioning blame often anchors you in the past, while taking responsibility can create space to rebuild and move on.

I realise I am responsible for internalising how I feel, and while I do not and should not feel a need to pass on everything that’s flying around inside my head, acknowledging and taking responsibility to speak is vital.

Sunday morning after breakfast, it all comes out. What ‘it’ is need not concern you, but what’s important is that in speaking, listening can occur, shared space can be found, and empathy and understanding is generated. Thank you Carole, I’ll not leave it so long next time.