Leopardess.....by cub

 

How can any bought gift for my birthday compare to this work of self-expression by cub1? I think she's simply wonderful! And what is more...the older she gets, the more I like her...you always love your kids but you don't always like them...its a good feeling when the two co-incide!

The summer of my content

Sorry visiting Pommie cricket fans - to add insult to injury, the Ozzies are thrashing you even under English weather conditions! But thanks...misty, rainy, dreary days are what we call a MIRACLE in this dry brown land - a HUGE treat!

All the more so if you are on holidays and can actually stay indoors, watch the fat billowing fluffy purple clouds roll in over the ocean and then pelt the windows in a long-forgotten yet heavenly whooshing sound.

Even though its the 2nd January (and freshly-made New Year's Resolutions still ringing in ears!) it was evident when my 6am alarm beeped me from deep dreams that this was NOT a good day for trimming and training but a GREAT day for snuggling back under the covers followed by late brunch of Dutch pancakes and French toast - NOT the planned post-festive carbohydrate and bubbly purge!

This is also the summer where my bikini body went awol AGAIN! thanks to a penchant for French champagne and a delightful stream of suitors who seem to think the only way to woo a woman is through fine dining!

But its been a very important summer nonetheless! My daughters on the other hand have discovered bikinis, boobies and a much greater awareness of themselves and the world, and walking that journey of discovery with them is delivering two interesting friends to philosophise and laugh with. Hallelujah - finally the rewards of motherhood!

As their alternative rock blasts across the Balmoral slopes while I'm still scrambling the breakfast eggs, I wiggle my hips too and cart home canvasses and paint for the expression of self and new insights into the universe and try not to nag too much about the mess.

I have also realised that sending your daughter to a posh and expensive Anglican girls school at age 12 is educating her in ways much broader than you had ever imagined it would. Broadminded and liberal as I am about discussing sexual issues in an open and factual way with my girls, I was hardly expecting to be asked the why's and wherefores of losing my virginity! But there you go! How stimulating life is with little people as they morph into big people!

Yes, sex, drugs and rock'n roll is still as much part of teenage life as it ever was-although it feels like even more so thanks to ubiquitous technology and the omni-present media.

In my opinion, this calls more than ever before for open and truthful communication between kids and us as their solid pillars of trust, integrity and respect in a world where it must seem to them that "anything goes".

John Steinbeck wrote "The winter of our discontent" to focus on the moral and civil decay of the 60's. As did Shakespeare in 1653??? in Richard 111. One wonders if any of this is new? My intuition says its not-its just better publicised.

But it does worry me when children grow up with leaders who justify wars and other actions based on blatant lies, when good men (voters) do nothing about it as long as the economy keeps running hot, - so evil thrives!

And I realise that from this summer on, I would love to spend much more time talking with these little big people about the BIG issues while enjoying lots of little things and laughs too!

Hmm....contentment at home with kids...now that's a new era!

what matters most...

 

Its the Christmas morning service at St Clements of Mosman. About $10 million of German luxury on wheels sit in the carpark outside as inside we pray for world peace and, alongside Bill Gates and Bono, an end to poverty. Then we chuck a $50 note in the collection plate seeing its Christmas and we won't be here again till next year this time.

My thoughts go to toddlers and grown-up kids in countless malls lining up to whisper a wish into a "make-believe" Santa's ear as the moment gets frozen digitally and e-mailed to relatives continents apart...

...and my thoughts drift to the words of the Janis Joplin song "Mercedes Benz" , and I wonder....what indeed could we possibly wish for? We have so much, such abundance, so much material wealth...what could possibly bring happiness beyond the Mercedes Benz, the Porsche?

But then God/the Cosmic Brain/ Mother Nature/Allah/Santa or whatever people want to believe in...delivers....

He/She delivers what matters most in this dry brown parched land.

Not diamonds or pearls, no Prada or Tiffany, not iconic electronic toys or luxury goods, not Italian or German automobiles...but that what matters most...

...that which is the quest of scientists, geologists and cosmologists alike...the very life source...thundering, loud, splashing, soaking, drenching, luxurious, miraculous little drops of water falling from the heavens like angels of salvation...the one thing we cannot manufacture in Stuttgart or Silicon Valley, Guanzou or Bangalore...rain, glorious, cooling, life-giving rain...

...and I give thanks. I dance with joy, and to my wishlist for next year, I add:

"Dear Lord, please make the State Government build more dams, but this time...IN the catchment areas, please?"

Too few cooks in the kitchen....

Tonight, I cooked.

This statement would not have raised any eyebrows or been remotely a subject worth contemplating even 15 years ago. A woman, especially a mother, cooks!

Its just that I haven't cooked in some 6 weeks. Life is altered. A woman's existence redefined.

Time for browsing through markets, carefully smelling, probing, testing fresh produce to select the ripest, sweetest, firmest...a chit-chat with the butcher or fishmonger to select the best cut for dinner, and then home to lovingly prepare it with snips of fresh herbs, gentle simmer, slow roast etc...table set for dinner as the dessert bakes, family all arriving home from playing with neighbour's kids, husband and breadwinner arriving with the evening paper and stories of the latest deal signed, and cheeky children falling asleep from all the bike riding and tree climbing that they got up to after they finished their homework.

That's the world I was raised for.

The world I inherited lost the plot and instead, Mummy is breadwinner and cook, arrives late from board meeting at office to daycare to pick-up child from sanitised indoor "Occ healthed-and-safed,risk-averse" cage behind locked doors, kids not tired at all but hyped and hungry and wanting to eat NOW because the high-carb preservative-rich white bread with processed cheese spread or cheap margarine and strawberry jam served for afternoon tea did not dull the boredom of playstation or the same DVD for the 9th time.

So, forget going home, because last night, while you were finalising a whole year in advance's strategic plan for an 8am this morning deadline, you definitely weren't thinking about tonight's dinner preparation needs and consequently the piece of fish you bought to boost the omega 6 oils on the menu is still happily lying deepfrozen in the freezer and you know the asparagus have gone limp and the basil all slushy and slime green, and the vegetable store was just pulling down the shut grill.

Variations on the theme above, interspersed with weekends where you really just want to NOT have to do anything for anyone other than sign a credit card slip, is kind of how things went for 6 weeks leading up to and post a crazy busy overseas trip, with mercifully, someone else cooked and washed for your future genetic hope at boarding school.

So...meandering through the grocery store aisles today as if its some new discovery tunnel and actually deciding what to cook with all the yummy fresh things was actually like entertainment. I can recommend it!

Beaver tails (tales?????)

 

Friends, can you help please? I am looking for a native or near-native from the Colorado Rockies...I want to explore family holiday options around Beaver Creek and Vail for Easter (5-10 April 07) next year. Have booked airfares for moi and kiddiewinx to go snow-ball fighting, but internet research is no good if you don't know the "lie of the land". I am initially attending a conference in Aspen (its part of me investing in my own loooooooooong-term future as a independent consultant/ speaker/ author) and then want to travel by car to Beaver Creek or Vail or Arapahoe Basin where the snowboarding facilities are better.

All advice gratefully and gracefully accepted! 

Canada photo album:click on top page to open album

Canada

Skippy goes Froggy

Some piccies on tabblo...click heading or this link and cross fingers it works
http://www.tabblo.com/studio/stories/view/134465/

SURVIVOR a la Parisienne

I have invented a new "game" ...its called SURVIVOR! the location? Paris!!!

So...the clue above would suggest that I am NOT in Hong Kong now as I should have been....instead, I am stranded penniless and identityless but at least not humourless in the world's most beautiful and expensive city...also home to the most sophisticated pickpockets! In this case, they work the Paris 5 star hotels...everything from the George V to the Meridien Etoile where I am at (much lower on the food chain at 195 Euros a night vs George V at 865 Euros a night!)

Yes, if I was in the little Jean Paul Gaultier boutique hotel that I wanted to book into for its superior charm and style instead of this characterless chain that the corporate travel agency insisted was company policy, I would not have been a target!

c'est la vie! Suffice to say....after I packed all my gear, left my luggage with concierge, bought a ticket for the airport transfer bus, I went to have breakfast. It happened between the concierge desk and the breakfast room- for which access is controlled by a maitre'd- or in the 15 mins while I was having breakfast. My wallet and passport wallet was lifted out of my handbag! I discovered it as I exited the breakfast room to retrieve my just-purchased ticket to head for Charles de Gaulle airport to fly to Hong Kong for my speaking engagement at the university!

Well....you know that sinking feeling..................?

I instinctively KNEW I had been robbed. Funny thing is...the same thing happened to me 25 years ago in the American Bar in Paris....luckily that time my passport was not taken and I was a poor backpacker so a string of credit cards was not a headache.

I wont bore you with the tedium of what ensued....but I still have a throbbing headache almost 24 hours later as a consequence of the stress!

Luckily my company has insured me but dealing with global organisations like Visa and AMEX aint as global or 24x7 as the advertisements say. There is NO EXPRESS in American Express!I would love to place their Marketing Manager in this position and strip him of all his contact numbers and see how he or she manages! It has been a diabolical experience, but Visa is way ahead of Amex in the efficiency stakes I am hoping that by tomorrow I can get emergency cash and a replacement credit card, and then I will be camped out at Australian Embassy who says they no longer provide temporary travel documents, I have to wait for a full passport replacement- 48-72 hours.

So...what is a hungry and penniless nameless vagrant to do today but enjoy the free fresh air and scenic beauty of the nearby Bois de Bologne Park and indulge in my favourite past-time....a picnic on the grass among the lillies and swans, dressed in a fur coat, feasting on the exquisite handcrafted Belgian chocolates I had purchased as gifts in Ghent and a bottle of vintage Bollinger that I bought as a gift for my host-to-be in Hong Kong! Ah...the torture!

Yes, some music would be nice...maybe I will hear some if I am open to it...maybe even enjoy a slow waltz?

Last night, wandering a bit aimlessly trying to find a taxi in the non-tourist part of the city after going to the Police Station which is MILES from my hotel, I stumbled upon a tiny pedestrian lane in a non-descript residential area of Paris teeming with locals shopping at delicatessens, Boucheries full of local delicacies like dressed and feathered pheasants, ducks, and other feathery flesh, rabbits (lapin) in various stages of "undress", and even wild boar hams still covered in the hairy black skin, and...to top it all, the release of the 2006 Beaujolais with wine tastings everywhere, a fromagerie or 6, several exquisite patisseries and boulangeries selling pastries and bread too picture perfect to eat....and a juggler and Little Sparrow-like waif playing the accordion and singing the melancholy Jacques Brel songs made so famous by Edith Piaf.

Yes, I fell into a picture, plonked myself down by a little table, splashed out 6 Euros on a glass of new season Beaujolais, a baguette, some fromage and foie gras (with some emergency cash the hotel manager advanced me to pay the taxi fare to go to the police station!)....and then walked the 4 kms back to the hotel instead!

La Belle Epoque-click on photo to go to online album

Picture-purrrrrfect Brussels

I've fallen in love!

I have landed in a little spot of preserved old-style unglobalised pure Europe like a long-lost story!

My hotel is a candle-light and Christmas-junkie fairytale....romantic and cosy beyond my wildest expectations.

Roaring fires everywhere, fat white candles emitting a soft golden glow over rich plush upholstered furnishings, lit Christmas trees and tasteful decorations framing corners of the bar and fireplace. Tealights dancing around brilliant red pointsettias on the gleaming black grand piano.

Then out to dine on the famous Moules mit friten (mussels steamed in aromatic broth with hand-cut chips and lots of beer) at Chez Leon in the Grand Place-its picture-perfect row upon row of traditional cafes on cobbled streets.

One can only say thank God that Belgium is not the rockstar of Europe...it has escaped with its soul intact! I shall return to Brussels for sure-long may this city remain au naturale!

Boston: The brightest city?

Click on the title and it should...hopefully...take you to my Boston pics....ghhhrrr.....getting annoyed with technology here...Google has changed its software and what was easy before to publish directly on the blog aint so no more!

http://www.tabblo.com/studio/stories/view/134014/

lost in a great big Christmas cake!

That's just what northern Canada looks like-a giant Christmas cake, thick icing sugar dripping off cutesie log homes with little chimneys puffing real smoke, row upon row sugar- dusted pine trees, wild elk grazing on bits of green not yet frosted to a crisp and the frozen lakes a bit like the mirror on the cake-you expect to hear a Ho-ho-ho from a jolly old fat guy and the jingling of bells any minute!

As a kid, I loved the figurines on the Christmas cake even though it seems de rigeur for all kids to say-Yuk! I don't eat "brown cake full of dead flies" and only ever ate the thick white "snow" though insisted on having a Christmas cake every year and now I even bake and ice it myself in an exercise that brings me great joy! .
Yet, history repeats itself with my kids having the exact same relationship with both the decor and the guts of a Christmas cake! Cub2's first sighting of snow in France at age 6 was accompanied by a tasting test to see it was sweet like icing!

I digress-yes, I missed the turn-off to Lake Louise after finishing my business in Banff and ended up on an amazing little adventure that gave me a deeper appreciation of the vast Canadian wilderness than I had anticipated. Don't you just love life's little surprises?

Having driven along the main Trans Canada highway for miles without sighting any signposts, signs of human activity or the elusive Lake Louise (it was snowing so be gentle!), and finding myself agog at the size and magnificence of the mountains (baked Alaska's I'll call them!) I took a turn down a little dirt road to Lake Emerald. 6kms in, there it was. Quiet as the dawn of Earth, no humans or cars, just the soft swish of snowflakes falling and my totally inappropriate boots squish-squashing from being soaked in a puddle of icy water, I had my first face-to-face encounter with a real live wild beaver!

Unfortunately, the little devil refused to surface again by the time I squish-squashed back through the same icy puddle to retrieve the camera from the car, but I did get a photo of its log nest. (Perhaps there is a lost Beaver in Scotland which would account for the strange goings on at Loch Ness? Same deal, different accent?)

I did find Lake Louise in the end, had a glass of Moet Chandon and a wee lunch at the Chateau, but saw none of the brilliant blue for which its known due to cloud and snow. But a magical day nonetheless!

Creatures of Habit

Quote spotted in advertisement carried by The Star-Telegram, a major Texas newspaper which I read as we took off from Dallas to Boston: "We are what we repeatedly do."-Socrates. (The newspaper was just AWFUL-not a shred of international news and coverage of US election results mostly in terms of Texas-the home of GeorgeW, so not a mention of voter backlash and Democrat gains!)

But let me not judge an entire nation on the lack of depth and perspective of one newspaper because we know the likes of The Washington Post, NY Times and Wall St Journal are not in the same category.

Back to how our actions, repeated many times, become habits, then become hard-wired in our muscle memory and even at cellular level through neural pictates (spelling????) in the cell structure.

I admit, as an analytical thinker, I was a bit dubious about all this cellular intelligence stuff, but at a non-rational level I chose to keep an open mind about it, especially in taking an Eastern philosophical approach to life.

But.....I have now had a powerful Eureka! moment and have become a true believer in the powerful way our habits are hard-wired into our bodies. It came through a simple and common pattern-breaker: having to drive on the"wrong" side of the road.

Absolutely everything is reversed, and there are so many actions in driving that are simply repetitive habit that dictate to your body and all of a sudden, your muscles are on auto-pilot and if your brain doesn't take control back and actively "think" and problem-solve, you are going to be indeep doodoo up the wrong side of Santa Monica Boulevard in peak traffic!

But sure, those are the big issues and your brain is on alert for them, so surprise surprise!-you hire a car and discover an entire city/region you have no prior knowledge of in the course of a day, without calling 911 or waking up in a hospital emergency room!

3 factorso are at play here:
1. Courage (otherwise known as chutzpah or stupidity, based on where your own comfort zone sits, and
2.Intuition-listening to the inner compass, and
3. Acute observationskills-taking in clues that you don't even know are clues until your intuition deliberately accesses them in your brain's random access memory in a moment of panic!

This is a long-winded self-congratulatory back-slapping story because I was astounded at how my "comfort zone" was threatened at the thought of walking out of the LA + Calgary Airports at 1 am in the morning, hopping into a car without any orientation of the city/province and only rudimentary tourist maps, no passenger to help navigate (maybe that was a good thing because Mars/Venus tells us that a man can't ask for directions) and armed with only a determination to see and do as much as I could in limited time and an attitude of allowing myself to fail, have an adventure and a giggle, smile brilliantly if I upset the locals and ....well, just doing it!

The more I succeeded, the more my confidence grew and the bolder I became.Driving sans map into the CBD of Calgary for a frantic one-hour shop yesterday at 5pm (and finding parking!) when all of Calgary was pouring onto its congested streets heading home, is a personal best. LA wasn't so bad because it was Saturday and Californians at the beach are meant to be a little laid back, and Rome to Venice by car 20 years ago doesn't count because my sister was navigating although central Rome through the Via Veneto is worth a black belt!

No, its not the big things that tripped my brain-its the little things. Where cerebral process is bypassed and hardwired into a habit, that sparked most of myEureka minute. How my body consistently walked to the wrong side of the car where the steering wheel was meant to be, and how even in walking on thestreets and in airport terminals crowded with purposeful walkers, my body automatically steered left, much to the consternation of the Americans who must have thought me a stubborn upstream salmon!
Vive la difference!
The purpose of this business trip is about deepening my knowledge base and expertise around Innovation in organisations- and my first profound insight comes from a bodily not a cerebral process. The lesson I take from this is that just like we navigate traffic with eyes wide shut when we are in familiar territory, we operate on auto-pilot at work when executing our routine day-to-day roles and our powers of observation and thinking devolve to a muscular and cellular level where we are unable to "see" what is clear as daylight to a fresh pair of eyes.

In order to get a "fresh" pair of eyes, we have to pattern-interrupt: Swop tasks, swop roles, or if too hard, invent a different way at least once a week of performing a routine task because we will bypass the brain AND the senses if we don't- and there's no way we will get fresh ideas for innovation that way!

The Smell of Canada

Well, Ms Mav's mojo has bounced back and the bastard who smashed it is no longer a factor.

Now, where were we? Oh, let's just start with now and forget about chronological correctness. We are in Canada. The Oak Room of the Palliser Fairmont Hotel in Calgary to be precise and yes, unlike in the US, this Blackberry technology is working so I can update this blog in real time! Seeing the Blackberry is a Canadian innovation, its the very least one expects!

After a stupendous 44 hour day of travelling and exquisite experiences on a 14hour transit in LA yesterday (more about that in another Blog), I was finally able to lie horisontally in a bed ( a heavenly one too!) at about 2am Calgary time.

I woke 8 hours later, quite capable of sleeping another 8, but there are things to be achieved, experiences to be had and life to be lived. As I stumbled into the lift, it pierced my conscious awareness, my Epicurean being, into instant recognition: the smell of Canada!

Yes, right up to the 11th floor wafted the smell of freshly cooked waffles and maple syrup. Unmistakably! My descent was rewarded with confirmation. In the magnificent palatial reception rooms I found a stupendous set-up...a breakfast/brunch voted as best in Canada 5 years in a row.

Well folks, they sure know how to do brunch in GRANDE style....I have never seen anything like it! Everything from fresh fruit and yoghurt, anything you could imagine under the theme of an English breakfast, to pancakes, waffles, a complete Sunday roast lunch, an an entire three tables devoted to desserts!

Much as those waffles winked at me and nudged....I decided I couldnt possibly do that and the beef...but it looked soooooooooo good and was assured by the waiter that "if you've never tasted Alberta Beef, you ain't tasted beef"...so he promptly cut off this 1 inch slab and buried my plate under it.

That was it...I am now an advocate for Alberta Beef....never tasted ANYTHING like that....sorry South africa, sorry Australia, sorry Texas...in my book, Alberta is king...for now...until I go to Argentina and give their beef a whirl.

I couldn't eat that huge slab of meat, but what I ate left no room for anything else....and I wasn't about to tackle the long road to Banff feeling droopy and sleepy from an enormous meal!

Whilst driving to Banff, I stopped by the roadside for a leg stretch...and was joined by a Rocky Mountain cowboy who was very proud to hear of the impression his native land's beef had made, so he told me where to go in Banff for a good steak...the Salt Lick.

So, I ate like a bird next day whilst visiting at the Banff Centre for Leadership and Monday night I went to The Salt Lick...expecting a steakhouse but instead finding a fantastically sophisticated, very trendy restaurant and yip...the best darn steak EVER!

It was so nice to look at different menus and innovative items....I must admit its been a looong time since any Sydney menu wowed me with anything new....(I hope you are reading this Luke Mangan and Bill Granger)

Taste and smell, as well as visual appeal are such important senses....and particularly smell goes directly to the right brain...its highly associative and connected to memory....its so important when designing menus, restaurants and other experiences where we want positive mental connections, to involve the senses!

Thanks Canada...the smell of a freshly grilled piece of Alberta beef has been filed alongside the maple syrup and waffles....and will live in my memory till I die.

One day in L.A

One day in LA

Click on the cover photo to open the album

Gathering of the goddesses

See my Tabblo>

Three places I'm not...

 
We ain't where we wanna be
We ain't where we're gonna be
But thank you, Jesus,
We ain't where we used t'be.(apocryphal African-American spiritual)

Thomas Edison failed 9998 times before the Eureka moment. He said it wasn't failure...it was all new information and 9998 ways of how NOT to invent electrical light.

What few people understand is that the prevailing paradignm of light in his era came from thinking only in the metaphor of fire....candles, paraffin etc...he had to completely break that pattern of thinking to create a new method of making light...it wasnt a tweak of existing beliefs!

So it is sometimes with our own lives too...our thinking is what can keep us trapped where we are, and old or out-of-step thinking and wishes preclude us from totally different possibilities...possibilities that can illuminate our lives and fill it with infinite light if only we were prepared to let go of attachment to our beliefs.

I am a bit vague and abstract here...its deliberately so...these words are merely for reflection...not a story. I know what some of my dearly-attached beliefs are...do you? As they say in the 12-step doctrines...awareness is step1 of letting go!

I use the lyrics of one of my favourite songs by Josh Groban, used by Cirque du Soleil for their show Quiddam, as a beacon to remind and inspire me when I feel fear. Its called "Let me fall" The person I will grow into once I let go of what I'm holding onto, or once I take that leap to cross my fear, will catch me...but...I HAVE to let go and take the leap!

Let me fall
Let me climb
There's a moment when fear
And dreams must collide

Someone I am
Is waiting for courage
The one I want
The one I will become
Will catch me

So let me fall
If I must fall
I won't heed your warnings
I won't hear them

Let me fall
If I fall
Though the phoenix may
Or may not rise

I will dance so freely
Holding on to no one
You can hold me only
If you too will fall
Away from all these
Useless fears and chains

Someone I am
Is waiting for my courage
The one I want
The one I will become
Will catch me

So let me fall
If I must fall
I won't heed your warnings
I won't hear

Let me fall
If I fall
There's no reason
To miss this one chance
This perfect moment
Just let me fall 

breakthrough technology!

  Its been a while...I know...but sorry, its raining cats and dogs! Its raining ideas and opportunities! And its raining men! Hallelujah! (Actually...its a nightmare juggling so many balls!)

Today's headline is about something I am REALLY excited about because I love learning so much, and when I learn something, I have a compelling (if sometimes mis-guided) desire to immediately pass it on!

You know how serendipity works...and that other wonderful New Age word: SYNCHRONYCITY? well...its corporate speak for the nature in which stuff just unexpectedly comes together and tap you on the shoulder to see what you couldn't see before!

It seems to me there is a new "global warming" of sorts in education...a return to basics to teach...connect....transfer knowledge...its called "making the invisible visible"...its cutting edge technology in the corporate and educational world....picked up by Harvard's Faculty of Education from studies in Italy among children.

The technology? Drawing, talking through pictures and a revisiting of the visual arts....remarkably like our earliest forebears did on cave walls!!!! (Last year it was story-telling...yes, I kid you not!)

These things are BFOs...BLINDING FLASHES OF THE OBVIOUS...but, in our complex and large hi-tech, high-rise towers of knowledge, we seem to have perfected the art of alienation from truth and meaning...our employees working with only small pieces of vast global puzzles and our leaders lightyears removed from customers, yet steering the ship with only one source of information: numbers!

Hooray for a return to rock-painting...after all, they have endured for eons....wonder if this blog format and code that created it will last beyond 2010 before its unreadable?

 

My father who is in heaven...

   Isn't it funny how, when someone you love, dies, even the most agnostic choose to believe they are in heaven and not in nothingness? Why is this so? I shall have to ponder this more deeply...but not at 1:38 am.

I wanted to simply remember my father on Father's Day...and say sorry for all the socks he got on days such as these. Socks are the ultimate cop-out, along with hankies and jocks.
Its unlikely that I will make anyone a father again, but hypothetically speaking, should it happen, I solemnly swear that I will not give him hankies, socks or jocks ever for a celebratory event (unless they are seriously funny and NOT the main course!)

What would I give you Dad...if you were here? I'd give you time. I'd simply sit with you in your quiet way, and hold your hand. Wish away the things that got in the way.

I'd retell to my children the stories you made up for us, our favourite being "Piet Pompies + Hanswors" - two simpletons from the circus who stowed away on a train from Johannesburg to Cape Town to go and see the sea for the first time- and all their misdaventures from being discovered and thrown off in the middle of the night in the Karoo...jackals wailing in the distance...crickets chirping, farm dogs barking and the icy winter wind biting into their shivering, quivering bums as they argued about whereto next...

That story wasn't written down ever- it was all in your head. You varied it, added new twists and adventures to keep us intrigued and laughing, but 40 odd years on, I still remember it in minute detail...perhaps it was you who awoke my wanderlust with all those adventures and misadventures?

Of all the things I remember about you, some stand out more as I get older, live longer, grow wiser (hopefully!). They are
Tolerance: I can't think of a time when you would criticise or judge others. You may have thought these things, but, you kept them to yourself. I haven't met many people who can truly claim tolerance as a value. Nor forgivenness- and you had that in abundance too.
Generosity: No matter what, through tough times and good times, you always shared, gave, found something for those who didn't have.
Confidence: A secret shared with you was as good as written on a piece of paper and burnt to ashes in a fire. You took many to your grave. Sometimes I wish you didnt. Too much weight can weigh you down.

The words that a father speaks to his children in the privacy of home are not heard by the world, but, as in whispering galleries, they are clearly heard at the end, and by posterity.

And finally, another acknowledgement of the importance of fathers, for raising little people into balanced adults by renowned American feminist Gloria Steinem

"Most (American) children suffer too much mother and too little father"
And, the fathers suffer too...its so good to see this changing especially among GEN Y. Ninety three cheers for Dads who reject overdemanding careers so they can enjoy parenting their kids too, and may there be lots more of it.

Revisiting blogpost of 1 July- a forgotten art

I bumped into this today on "listening" - good follow-up to something I wrote about on 1 July. Its from the blog of Stephen Shapiro, an ex partner in Accenture and given that background, oddly the author of a book called "Goal-free Living."

Stuff about Spring

  This is my 44th Spring, not that I can remember much about the preceeding 43, except one year when I went on holidays to Cape Town and surrounds to be totally charmed by the carpets of native wildflowers. God's tapestries!

Though my head and my heart is full of things I want to write about(because its been a reflective week), I am not quite ready to spit it out on screen! (Yukky...that analogy doesnt quite work with modern technology, does it?)

But, I thought this glorious 1st day of Spring deserves to be acknowledged...not only for the warmth and beauty of the day itself, but the promise that it represents. The promise of regeneration, freshness, youth, hope.

I wonder if this Spring will be memorable? Memorable in a happy sense, not memorable like in planes flying into buildings.

I also want to thank people who read this blog, who barely know me except through these writings, and thus have come to know me well, and gives back to me in countless ways that they may not even understand. Its very special.

Some marvel that my writing is so straight from the heart...others find some discomfort with aspects of it and say so, and some ask me why I write?

I honestly haven't given much rational consideration to that. I write because I can. Because it orders my thoughts. Because I love it. Because the voices in my head wont stop until I do. Because I need to talk to someone after the homework has been checked, the lunch boxes packed, the bedtime stories read and the cubs are tucked snugly in the cot. Because I have a need to share.

Neither man nor woman was created to be alone. You know? Spring stuff? Birds and bees and pollen and stuff...?