“You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.” (Steve Jobs)

It's been 5 years since i started writing this blog. This will be my 50th post on this blog, and it feels like a milestone.

So much has happened since I started this blog. I have grown in ways I could never have foreseen, in many little ways, and in some more substantial ways. 

In the past 5 years, I have experienced a number of significant events in particular - I started and completed a Coaching Diploma, I have moved house, I have celebrated my brother's wedding and the birth of my niece, I have started a knowledge-sharing group where I work and taken it global to colleagues in our Singapore and India offices, I have been diagnosed with and learned to master Dyspraxia and Attention Deficit Disorder, I have learned to swim, to meditate, and I have begun to learn balance.

This blog has taught me much about myself, and connected me to people across the world. I have learned so much about the world, because writing this blog has led me to look for themes to write about, new connections, new experiences, and ideas, and coming to see myself as a writer. I am finding my voice, and I can see how I have grown, and yet looking back, I can still see my intention in my first post, and that I have remained true to that intention. To write, and share my story so that others could see that they are not alone. Because the world is so big and vast, we can trust that there are other people out there who see the world the same way we do; aside from the people in our immediate lives, our friends, neighbours and people in our communities. They may also be in another city, another country, on another continent, or on an island in the middle of an ocean.

Whilst going through my wardrobe yesterday, I noticed that I have maybe one outfit that I bought more than 5 years ago, and it brought home to me that even though I sometimes may not feel that I have changed in the past 5 years, that I may find it difficult to see myself as that changed person, that if I think about the clothes I no longer wear, then I can see that I have changed. In the same way that I have changed habits, and let go of other unhelpful habits and ways of being, I have come to learn what colours and styles suit me, and my personality, and my needs as I have grown.

I think the most valuable experience I have had, has been becoming my own person, and recognising that I have something to offer to the world, and that I can only succeed by being my best self. So often we think that we need to follow what someone else has done, to succeed like they have done. What we don't realise is that we need to stay true to ourselves, and that we have an inner guide to direct us. That if we are following someone who is already successful then we are already behind; it is too late to start saving up for our dream house by the time we see it. We need to trust it is out there and save up for it anyway, so that when we see it, we will have the money to be able to buy it. It is too late to become the person we want to be by the time we meet our ideal partner; we need to think about, and know who we want to be, and work towards becoming that person every day, with every action and choice, and trust we will know when we meet them.

Writing and sharing this blog with you, has given me an opportunity to learn who I am and what I stand for, and I am honoured and touched that so many people have read and followed it over the past 5 years. 

I thank you for your support, and I look forward to the next 5 years.

Purlgirl

"You can't calm the storm, so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself. The storm will pass." (Timber Hawkeye)

  

I originally wrote this last November. I have retained the references to the date, since it takes me back to that day.


Buffeted by the wind

Watching the red kites over the skies of Oxfordshire today, I have realised we cannot fight the wind, or the rain. When times test us, we need to decide whether we are being presented with an opportunity, a challenge, or a learning curve.

It may be all three. During times of change or adversity, in whatever way we find them, we have the choice to learn and grow.

We have experienced some turbulent events, in 2016, especially, which have revealed to ourselves and others, who we really are and what we truly believe about the world.

Whilst this may not always have been a pleasant surprise, it shouldn't stop us from striving to live our best lives, and to continue to love and help others, and to reach out to strangers and acquaintances.

We might discover new friendships, and people who want to continue in their quest to make this a better world for everyone.

As the poet Rumi tells us "Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today, I am wise, so I am changing myself."

I am coming to the realisation that there is something that I can learn from every single individual being on this planet, even if sometimes it is just to recognise that they may be showing me who I do not want to be, or to show me what I no longer want to be.

For instance, I am no longer 21. Whilst I had to be 21 to become 22, and 22 to become 23 and so on, I have no wish to be that age again. It's an age I had to experience, with lessons to learn, people to meet, and challenges to overcome, and has led me to be the person I am now, today, nearly 20 years later.

It hasn't always been plain sailing during that time, but I can say I have gained something from all of it, the good and the bad, the wise and unwise decisions I made.

Which brings me back to the kites. Today has been a blustery November day, and I noticed that when the wind is strong, the kites stretch their wings out wider, to brace themselves against the wind and stay aloft. You can almost picture their concentration and determination to hold their course, as they steady their tail feathers, and tell the wind, “I can outlast you.”

It's been fascinating to watch, and to remind me that the challenges I have overcome so far, have made me stronger and - as long as I choose to keep learning - to give me strength to face tomorrow.

After all, if I remember to take it one day at a time, I am strong enough for each day, which is all we really need: to be strong enough for today.

Purlgirl
 

"You need to keep finding yourself, a little more each day" (Richard Bach, 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull'*)

I'm not the same as you, and that's okay

 

The full realisation of this and what it means, only came to me recently. I realised that I'm not even the same as others who have been diagnosed with Dyspraxia or ADD.

 

Even if I hadn't been diagnosed, I would still not be the same as you (whoever you are, reading this).

What does that even mean?

Who decides, and how limited our world would be if Steve Jobs, or Richard Branson, had conformed?

Funnily enough, it was a pair of cordless Bluetooth headphones that really brought it home to me.

I bought a pair for a long train journey over Christmas, and the fact that they are wireless, is great, but actually essential for my co-ordination and concentration. I no longer find myself becoming entangled in the headphone cables, or scrambling in my handbag to turn down the volume, or move to the next song.

I also find myself unconsciously dancing along to songs whilst waiting for the bus. After a few days of this, one driver in particular remarked on seeing me dance to the music as pulls up to the stand. It makes the wait for the bus more enjoyable and puts a smile on my face.

We can never be exactly the same as someone else - they may be married, or not, have children, or not, even have twins, or not. We're not the same as our parents, siblings or our other halves.

That's why I'm convinced that childhood bullying does so much harm, and can leave long-lasting effects. It's the first point where children are identified as "different" and anyone who is not the target of the bullying, observes what makes people vulnerable, and may be tempted to suppress or hide that in themselves, to appear to be "like everyone else". They want to be accepted, instead of walking across to the child who is being targeted, and saying "you know what? I feel the same way" or "I'm interested, tell me more."

On a wider scale, it leads to conflict amongst adults, but just imagine if we could let, and even *encouraged* children to be their own unique selves, to recognise and accept that we are not all the same, and could find a way to make peace with that?

I'm not the same as you, not just because I have been diagnosed with a learning difficulty, and I see the world differently in some ways. I’m not the same as you because I am an individual; I am one of 7 billion unique human beings on this planet.

I'm okay with that. I'm more interested in the things we have in common, and learning to understand our differences, however small. I believe every one of us has a role to play in this world. I find that fascinating. Maybe we can only figure out what that role is when we stop trying so hard to fit in. When we stop trying to be like everyone else, we begin to seek out our gifts, we can be willing to own our uniqueness, and through that find our place in the world.

Purlgirl

* 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull', by Richard Bach, Turnstone Press, 1972.

 

In skating, you learn to click into that zone and focus not necessarily on what you're doing but if you're doing it well. (Dorothy Hamill)

 

Growing up, I loved to watch ice-skating, especially figure skating. I used to love watching the couples dance but I also used to find myself drawn to the individual figure skaters.

 

I loved how they would choose a piece of music, and then design and choreograph a routine to go with the beat and rhythm and energy of the music. Whether it was an upbeat pop song, a slower-paced ballad, or a piece of Classical music, they kept in tune with it, adjusting their speed, adding flourishes, including the basics, and adding a few spins, twists or jumps.

 

The double axel jumps* were always the steps that drew and held my attention, because one moment they would be skating, backwards, or forwards, and in the next, switch to the new move, and suddenly build into this fantastic spin - (the sit spin, the camel spin or the upright spin)** - and of course, the leaps, when they gather their energy and focus into that moment when they need to begin the jump, stay in that moment as they are flying through the air, whilst remembering that they still need to land on one skate, and carry on skating to continue with the routine because this is only a small part of the performance; the song isn't over yet.

 

What amazes me is the thought of how much time, effort and energy they needed to invest into this routine that in the final competition might be no more than 5 minutes long.

 

How long must the choreographer have spent in designing the dance, how long to design, make and embellish the skater’s outfit, and the hours and hours and hours of rehearsal in private to master it all. To master the basics, the steps, the combination of skating and timing of the music, never mind the order of the steps to create an elegant, cohesive whole that will be seen by the public and evaluated by the judges.

 

Even then, the skater needs to prepare themselves for the judges’ verdict; to be evaluated on their technique, and their performance. It's perfectly possible to get a good score in one aspect, less so in another, but overall it's the combination of all of those aspects that leads to the final score and ranking.

 

The skater needs to focus fully on herself, her skating, and her performance, regardless of the other competitors - she has to know she has given her all and done her absolute best.

 

And once the competition is over it's back to the drawing board to choose a new piece of music, design a new outfit, and rehearse a new routine, with the benefit and insight of the judges' feedback.

 

I've been learning to master my Dyspraxia*** for two years now, and in that time I have learnt and incorporated many strategies and continue to seek new and better ways of accomplishing tasks. It has involved many hours of practice, of repetition, and refinement, to improve myself, my work, my approach and my presentation. It sometimes feels as if what people see on the outside is a five-minute performance that is the result of months of rehearsal.

 

When I'm facing a challenging task, and it takes me longer than I would wish to understand and complete the task, it feels as if I am that lone figure skater who needs to build up all that energy to lift themselves into the air, to spin, and land successfully on that one skate. When I imagine myself as a figure skater, a challenging task is only a small part of the performance, and landing safely leads me into the rest of the routine to finish with a flourish.

 

The entire performance relies on a combination of my routine, my appearance and my technique. All three are vital to the final result and all need my attention and polish.

 

It also reminds me to complete the task – you can't stop a jump a mid-air.

 

Visualising myself as a figure skater reminds me that the performance is a combination of different steps which all come together to the music.  It allows me to see myself objectively as others do, and evaluate myself and my performance.

 

It helps to remind me that rehearsal is a part of the process, as is feedback, and as long as I focus on that, I can keep improving, and grow to become my best self and to strive to express that to others.

 

Lynn

 

* https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figure_skating_jumps

** https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figure_skating_spins

*** Read more about my diagnosis and experience on my blog, Dyspraxic Pioneer

"Each of us, singly and with all the others, is answerable for creating joy through the way our lives unfold, here and now" (Arthur Egendorf)

Believing in hope - even if it has to start with us

The more people I meet the more I realise that whilst sometimes we may need others to be the light, if we each take care of ourselves, we will have light to give, and we can light our own candle to show others there is hope.*

We have an impact, whether that be positive or negative; what we say and do, has an effect on the people around us. My sister-in-law, for example, has a wonderful habit of asking serving staff for their first name whenever she goes out, and addresses them personally by name throughout the evening. At the end of the meal, she then writes a note on the back of the receipt when she pays, to say thank you and express her gratitude.

It's the little things that people do that make a difference. Sometimes all it takes is a smile or a kind word, and who doesn't have that to give?

If each of us tends to our little corner of the world, and our neighbours, we can make things better and give comfort, no matter how small that might seem.

If things are not going well for us, we can ask ourselves how we can help to be the light, and it may even be as simple as asking how we can help.

We can't know until we speak up, that there are more people out there who feel the same way about the world as we do. It's best not to wait for others to go first. I often choose to disclose first that I have been diagnosed with Dyspraxia and Attention Deficit Disorder**, and through this have given others the permission to come up to me and say they have been diagnosed, too, or know people who have been. It creates a safe space for them to be honest about their experiences. 

It reminds me that I am not alone, even if I am on my own, and that I cannot do it all alone. When I was organising my visit to Singapore and India in May, I needed colleagues in those offices to help me book meeting rooms and send out the initial invitations for the workshops; and when I was away, I remember being truly touched, when a colleague who helps me put up posters in our local office, volunteered to check the posters back home were up-to-date.

I'm not suggesting we pretend to be happy if we're not, or when things are tough; it's vital to take care of ourselves, and sometimes we'll be the one who needs the kind word, but if we're more willing to give it away, we can trust it will be there for us when we need it. We all go through difficult times, but they are made more bearable by knowing that we are not alone.

Over the years, I have collected a number of stones, each engraved with a different word, such as "peace", "courage", "happiness" and "hope". 

I carry the stones with me every day, so I always know I have hope, even if it's only the hope I carry with me in my pocket.

I have found that when I find myself telling someone about them, that's when I realise they need that stone more than I do in that moment, and I'll hand it over to them, whether that be hope, trust or even joy.

If we could think of our smiles and kind words in the same way, if we could imagine giving them away like the engraved stones, perhaps we might recognise their value, and how much weight they can carry. How they can serve to remind us that we are not alone, and that there *is* hope and love and peace in the world, and that if we turn our attention to these virtues, we can help to spread them out into the wider world in our own unique way.

Lynn

* "There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." Edith Wharton
** Read more about my experiences of being diagnosed and my experiences on my blog, "Dyspraxic Pioneer"

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself (Franklin D. Roosevelt)

Facing our fears

It's been said our fears are the monsters we believed were under the bed when we were children.* 

I don't remember being particularly scared of monsters under my bed as a child. Maybe that had something to do with sharing a room with my brother when we were very little. Being the one on the top bunk, the only thing that was under my bed back then was my younger brother in the lower bunk, and whilst we didn't always get on, I wouldn't call him a monster! 

Then when I was a little older and graduated to having my own room, my bed was one of those double mattress affairs, and there wasn't any space under the bed for a monster to live - unless it was a very small monster, or an only an inch high, and a one-inch high monster wouldn't have scared me because it would have been so much smaller than me. 

So I don't remember being scared of monsters under my bed. What I do remember was a sense of being not quite perfect, and always wanting to get things right. This was not a helpful approach to life, since, as I've said before 80% is distinction, and this belief that if I couldn't do something perfectly I didn't want to play meant I would sit on the sidelines and watch other people being messy and imperfect, and learning how to do the things I wanted to do, such as learn to swim or drive a car. Eventually I did learn to do both of these things, but looking back now I wonder how many other things I could have learned if I'd not spent so much time wanting to be perfect at them, and if I'd just started sooner. 

Perhaps this fear of not being good enough, of not being perfect was my monster under the bed. In the same way as I would sit on the sidelines and watch, over time I didn't just believe there was a monster under the bed, I didn't even want to step off and walk past the bed the way a child might cautiously tiptoe past to avoid being noticed by the monster. Ever find yourself trapped in the bathroom with a spider because you're waiting for it to move out of the way? And how long are we prepared to wait for that spider to move rather than take a deep breath, reach for a single moment of courage and step past it? 

And if we allow that fear of the monster under the bed to persist unchecked, without taking a deep breath, reaching for that moment of courage, and checking under the bed, we can find ourselves marooned on our island bed, stuck in our rooms, waiting and relying on other people to come to us. We can end up living our lives in just one place, a very limited space, and miss out on so much. 

Much better to check under the bed, verify for ourselves whether there even is a monster under the bed, and if there is something there, then we can decide what help we may need to handle it. And the only way to do that is to switch on the light, and look for our fears. It only takes a minute to check so we can decide what to do. If we decide we do need help, then we can call on someone to help us handle it; and if it turns out it was in our imagination all along, we can climb down off the bed and cross the floor, to open the door and step outside, into the world. 

The question is, what's really under the bed? 

Lynn 

* (unknown)

“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” (Mahatma Ghandi)

What I learned about myself in India

When I was in India last month, I realised how little I really need, how so much stuff is really just a distraction from who I really am and what I really want.

When I was in India, I saw myself as I would like to be because everyone was so friendly and welcoming, and greeted me with a smile first. I felt appreciated, but more than that, I felt accepted for who I was, as I was.

Whilst I was there, I came to see I could be myself; I could be warm and open with everyone I met, and tell them my "good name" and where I was from. I felt I did not have to pretend to be anyone other than who I really was, and that who I was, in that moment, was enough. And because who I was was enough, I could see my best self revealed; someone who was interested in the wider world, in the people I met, in the beautiful architecture and vibrant sights and sounds of the country.

However long I spent with people was enough, and I could trust and follow my intuition to lead me to discover and experience a wonderfully rich country for myself.

I didn't need jewellery, material possessions, or very much else, and yet I was happy with what I had and what I experienced.

Having been back for a few weeks, I have come to realise that until now I had left a part of me in India; the authentic me that I discovered during my time there, and that the full impact this trip has had on my growth and development as a person, is only beginning to become clear to me now.

It's as if I left my spirit, or my soul, behind for a while, to give me time to return to my everyday life and to make space within myself for the person I am becoming, that person I could see so clearly during my time in India.

My hope is to retain that feeling and sense of my true identity for as long as possible.

Telling my story is just one of those ways of keeping that authentic self alive, and being true to my best self, that person I could, and want to be. 

Lynn