Tag: love

Love Song

I could have titled this post – What’s Love got to Do with It? A better title maybe, but let’s face it – what a lame tune.

Earlier this week at the CIPD annual conference I heard Rob Goffee and Gareth Jones, two world renowned academics tell me and many others how to make work better. I found the talk high on sound bite and light on substance, but among other things that at least have the potential to create purpose and meaning, they talked about:

  • Involvement
  • Fairness
  • Motivation
  • Trust

Involve, involve, involve. Then act – decisively.

Later the same day I was out for dinner with friends. Good friends, who laughed, joked and disagreed too. I got back to my hotel room in a good mood, and having maybe consumed a wee bit too much red wine. Unusually for me, I checked my emails before going to bed and among them was one asking me this question:

‘Why do so many workers feel they have no power to think differently about their workplace?’

Even more unusually I responded there and then – with this:

Most work is coercive, it is done to you. The best work is coactive, it is done with you. It is totally human to want, need and expect that our views be taken into consideration, and yet we defy these wants, needs and expectations at almost every step in out working lives. Never do anything about me, without me. Put simply, as Stephen Covey wrote, ‘We need to listen with the intent to understand, not the intent to reply’. I think that means we need to bring love and our artistry into work.

I went to bed. The following day Microsoft were kind enough to feature my brief outpouring as a part of their ‘get it done day’. Thanks folks.

So I’d like to add love and artistry to the list of ingredients for purpose and meaning. Some of my work involves helping people unlock the artist in themselves as a pathway to better collaboration and problem solving, and I will look to expand on this thinking further in the coming weeks and months. Should you be in London on Tuesday November 12th and free around 07.45am for a couple of hours – I’m facilitating a workshop called Art for Work’s Sake. Let me know if you’d like to come – there are a few places left.

For now though, I’ll finish where I started. Just for you, here’s a Love Song.

Music to Die For

Today is my birthday. Somehow I’ve made it to 48, the age Mum was when she died. Today is a day for celebrating, for being happy, and thinking ahead.

If I have a faith, it is in people – past present and future. My funeral won’t be a religious affair, so in place of hymns, there will be music instead. Currently, here’s what will be on offer and why:

1. I Fought The Law

Breakin’ rocks in the hot sun 
I fought the law and the law won

This song is carved into the heart of my late teenage years. Mum died just before I turned 19. She not only endured my interest in the punk movement, she encouraged it. The prospect of stomping around Croydon in shiny black ten hole Doctor Martin boots sporting a black Harrington jacket and a bad attitude is what used to get me out of bed on a Saturday morning. That and the fact that my £1 weekly allowance was enough to get the bus to and from town, buy a copy of the Cost of Living EP from Virgin Records, and have change left over for a Mars Bar. Happy days.

2. Rock O My Soul

My soul is weak
Rock my soul
And thou art strong
Rock my soul

Before Elvis and The Beatles, there was Lonnie Donegan. Donegan was born in Glasgow in and began playing in London clubs in the late 1940s. With his simple guitar rhythms, powerful voice and rock solid band he chalked up 24 consecutive top 30 singles. This quote of his speaks volumes to me in terms of making music accessible:

“In England, we were separated from our folk music tradition centuries ago and were imbued with the idea that music was for the upper classes. You had to be very clever to play music. When I came along with the old three chords, people began to think that if I could do it, so could they. It was the reintroduction of the folk music bridge which did that.”

My Dad grew up listening to Lonnie Donegan, and as is the way, so did I. In my teenage years, my interest in Donegan waned in favour of bands like The Clash and The Damned, and when Dad died in early 2012, I rediscovered Lonnie Donegan’s simple power, and humour. Listening to his music has been a significant part of evolving grief into cherished memories.

3. The Garden

The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect,
The way you live, the gifts that you give

In the fullness of time,
It’s the only return that you expect

Earlier this year I took myself and two very close friends off to the O2 to see Rush on their Clockwork Angels tour. We took the riverboat down to the venue, treated ourselves to seats right down the front, drank beer, spilled beer, and watched the band play. This song was a highlight and since that day it has pencilled, painted, inked and now tattooed itself into me. I love this song because it reminds me of my shortcomings, and of how far I still have to go. I love the idea that life is a garden to nurture and protect.

I have much nurturing to do. I’m off to do some now.

Have a great day.

There are successful bands all over the world with average guitar players, and singers that can hold a note, but every great band seems to have one thing in common. This post is for drummers and percussionists everywhere. To those who keep the rhythm, so the rest of us don’t have to.

The Essence of Trust

Ahhhhh, trust. We love it, don’t we. That elusive and vital oil in the machine of life, love and work. The perceived wisdom on trust is that it’s built over time and has the fragility to be shattered in seconds. I agree with the second point, I’m not so sure about the first, let me explain.

My default setting is trust. I trust you first, from the start. It’s your privilege to prove me wrong. Except, sometimes, life gets in the way and that sharp edge of trust is dulled. Dulled by forgetfulness, fear and failure. And so it has been with me lately. I’ve let life take the edge off my trust, and chiefly I’m grateful to Patrick Mullarkey for spotting this and making me aware of it (even though he may not yet realise it). Long story short – we met at conference last week and had a chat. At the end, Patrick observed I was tense. He was right, and my contribution to that conversation was poor. It lacked abundance, and was heavy on the negative. Sorry Patrick. On the plus side, later the same day I went out for dinner with some good friends and we laughed, a lot.

The following day I took my trusty sword of trust down to the blacksmiths and had her resharpen it. I rebooted, refocussed and reminded myself that I think trust is chiefly made up of two things.

1 – Come from a place of abundance, always.

2 – This.

And so – here I am rebooted, retrusting and coming to the end of a helluva week. I’ve experienced much fabulousness in many directions, and I know there is more to come. Much more. I’m not going to measure or manage it, I’m just going to roll with it, and I trust that you will do the same.

Love – Doug