Tuesday 10 December 2013

Share your toys....................



You know there is a lot of stuff in the media today about workforce engagement, and how as a nation, a human nation, we are killing ourselves with deadlines fuelled by fear of not having any work. We chase, we pursue, we often push others out of the way just to keep the fear at bay. 
For some years now I have been banging on about doing things differently, I have tried, and failed many times, to get people to 'share your toys.'
Sometimes the glimmer of times gone by ignites the memory of doing just that and people stop pushing and shoving and give someone else a helping hand. Sometimes all I get is the blank stare of 'what is in it for me', and when I get this I know that this person or this group of people have forgotten what it is to not have someone pushing and shoving them around.
Nearly five years ago I set up a collaborative called 'The Coaching Network', this group  functions on reciprocity or 'sharing of toys'. We don't make money on each other, we work with others collaboratively, we exchange our skill set and resources (our toys) with others so that everyone feels like they have taken part. Over five years the group has grown in size but is still fairly small, but small is better than none and each member knows that when they join they have to start to think differently about the bigger picture and perhaps how they can play a different part.
Every person that joins the group is welcomed in by being accorded a musical instrument from the 'sorting hat'. I do this because I see the whole of the group as an orchestra, that we are reliant on each other and that ultimately there are no virtuosos just a whole load of people who rely on each other.
It is this reliance on each other that made me think about us women, and how traditionally we have been the glue in society by providing the connecting links between families and community. We still do that but we also take this part of ourselves into work too, we organise the work parties, we know when our colleagues birthday is, we can tell when someone needs some support and are in like 'Flynn' to put that arm around a colleague that is struggling. Of course we have our reverse side too, being human means we can also be horrible but on the whole I believe womankind see the connectedness and support the connectedness in all things.
As this year comes to a close I hope that you 'share your toys' and think more about how what you do and what you don't do affects others. As far as this blog goes your 'toys' are your stories and I hope you continue to share your wisdom with me and all the other women out there. We all need to stay connected and learn from each other....and in the spirit of sharing have a listen to this...and share....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YP_hsXJcbVw

Come and join us on The Coaching Network too, you don't have to be a coach but you do have to share.

http://tinyurl.com/9r3jrpr


Much love 
Dee

Monday 2 December 2013

The Importance of being

Hello and good afternoon on this gorgeous Wintery day. Today's posting has been sent in by Carole Hamilton, Carole contacted me to say she would like to share a profound learning experience with all of you and hopes that you learn from what she now knows.



The Importance of being Caroll

I would like to begin by telling you I have no idea as to why I believed I wasn't even worth the cost of a roll of toilet paper but it was true. Nobody had actually said as much to me but it to me it was self evident. Please notice I say was not is. My lack of concern for my health, and my hit and miss attitude to food was awful. Eating some days, not on others and carelessly ignoring the signs that my body (in particular my digestive system) was struggling.
All of this changed when aged 51 I had to undergo surgery for which I had no option. Years of poor eating habits had taken their toll. The morning after the operation I was desperately trying to go to the toilet, the pain was excruciating and I cried. I cried not just for the pain but for the fact that all of this could have been avoided if I had shown Caroll some respect and taken the time to cook for myself, to sleep, to exercise, to be careful with myself. 
I am hopeful for a recovery in the next 2 - 4 weeks not just from the surgery but by taking time to sort out the mess I have made of things.
Over the coming months I will continue to care for myself. So far I have made my kitchen a place to store and cook delicious food, it is no longer the room where you can't find ingredients because I didn't buy them or simply a place where I keep 'stuff' that I don't know how to use.
I am going to cookery classes too, I am learning to get past the 'burn it throw it out' stage to 'oh, that has worked and I can eat it' and soon I will be at the 'wonder what that will taste like if I add that stage'.
The biggest change though has come not just with the physical healing from surgery and the emotional/mental healing from learning to love food it has come by realising that by doing these things I am learning to love Caroll. Caroll now understands that she is worth the cost of toilet rolls because you get only get out what you put in.......and just like the toilet metaphor I put very little into being Caroll so very little came out.



I would like to add to Caroll's story by posting you the link to this tune.....I think you might all agree that this is how we should all feel about ourselves.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9BoMKrlzrag

Tuesday 26 November 2013

Sisterhood



Good morning good morning all you lovely women! Today's posting has been sent in by author Sue Hill of Barricaine Books in Devon. Sue very kindly offered her musing on the theme of  'Sisterhood', and here it is for your enjoyment. Please do send in your notions of what 'sisterhood' means to you and/or your own story, I will be happy to post it up for other women to share.



Sisterhood
by Sue Hill

 
The two times that immediately come to mind are birth and dying.  The birth of my son’s son, his first child, and, at the other end of life, my mother’s last years.
My grandson arrived two days after Christmas; staffing levels were down at the (beautifully named) Ladywell Unit at the local hospital.  The birth was taking a long time … the hours passed slowly … I was aware that for the male partner the whole experience can be long, and mysterious .. men are witnesses to such an unknown procedure … this was not my son’s partner’s first child, which somehow made his role more vulnerable …
By evening, and no baby, I thought “He’ll be hungry!”  We made fresh chicken sandwiches and took them to the hospital.  We found the Ladywell Unit all closed up; I had to ring a bell and speak through an intercom; could I come in?  “I have sandwiches for my son ….”  !!! 
I was allowed in ……
I stepped in and it was like walking into a cocoon of muffled cotton wool clouds, how the top of clouds seem when seen through the windows of a plane … it was a silent cocoon, wrapped up, safe …
Save for my son, there were no males in sight … it was a female environment, the team of midwives and nurses working quietly together towards a successful birth.
---------------
I hadn’t known that things had just come to a crisis and that Dan’s partner was just being given an epidural … so my appearance with the sandwiches was not very well-timed!  Maybe I overdid the Mother Hen bit!

-------------------------
And at the other end of life, the years of the running-down of life, and the team of women carers who became my mother’s life-line;  women working for a pittance, and yet cheerful and warm and lovely.  They became real friends to mum, and to our family; they made mum laugh, one lady even took mum in her arms and danced her around the lounge …. marvellous  ….
When there was a change of agency, and a new set of carers started, there was a younger Eastern European woman, called Slava … mum couldn’t get her head around her name … Slava became Salvia, Saliva ( just as mum’s mother, my Granny, couldn’t get Jeremy, my husband’s name .. … he became Germany, Jeremeny) … Slava announced “Don’t worry, I will look after your mum!”  And she did, beautifully.
------------------
I miss seeing those ladies … I hope that their working conditions have improved, that they are getting paid for their travelling time (and the petrol), that they are allowed to spend time with the elderly and not be rushed … I hope those ladies have happy lives.
So – caring women who form part of the great sisterhood.
And my own sister … with mum gone, we ring each other now after travelling any distance, to say “We’re home safely”. 
-----------------
I do not pretend that all women are such caring people.  I have been hurt by supposed friends, and known the spiteful bitchiness of working colleagues.  They are better not thought about.
For the lovely ladies in life, I salute you!

 Sue



Monday 18 November 2013

The 'sod it' space and the 'I am crap' space


Good morning ladies,
well it is Monday morning and like many of you I find Monday morning's the hardest part of the week to conquer.  All of last week I juggled plates on wonky sticks, I did this the previous week and the one before.....and the one before that too. By the end of each week I see how far I have got, and because I rarely ever ever give up on anything, I look at the things that have gone none too well and I think of ways in which I might try again or differently.  I am very good at putting a positive spin on this so when talking with colleagues I will refer to the process as 'refinement' and taking a 'new direction'.  To be honest it is often the failures that have lead me to develop something better and indeed many refusals and knock backs have caused me to rethink something and come up with something innovative.
There are however moments when I am totally fed up with 'going back to the drawing board' and I feel myself enter the space of 'sod it'. 'Sod it' is a place that I am sure you are familiar with, it is the place that often leads to drinking a whole bottle of wine instead of a couple of glasses, it means instead of keeping your calm exterior when someone tells you that your work is not relevant you tell them to sod off, it means that instead of encouraging some lazy arsed bastard to finish or even begin the work they promised you you tell them to shove it adfinitum rectum. 
The sod it space is not a space in which you have what life coaches call  'self limiting beliefs' oh no no no no. The space where you have 'self limiting beliefs' is called the 'I am crap' space and should not be confused with the 'sod it' space. The reason we sometimes get confused is because the two are connected through a revolving door. The difference is that in the 'I am crap' space you doubt yourself in the 'sod it' place you doubt others.
You have to be careful about which side of the revolving door you end up on and too much time spent in either space is not good. Short bouts in the 'I am crap'  space can toughen you up, make you value yourself and what your trying to achieve, similarly short bouts in the 'sod it' space can give you a welcome break from agreeing with the myopia and stupidity of others.
If you are in the 'sod it' space because others have not yet realised your worth then my advice to you this morning is do not give up on yourself, and if your situation allows it give up on the doubters instead.  I say this last bit because not all of us have the luxury of being able to give the two fingered salute without the repercussions that may follow. Leave the frustrating situation with dignity and move on. Re-direct your energies, someone somewhere will see your utter genius and snap you up but only if you stop wasting time on a situation that gives no returns.
If you are in the 'I am crap' space well you need to stop right now and I mean right now from feeling sorry for yourself. You are not crap. Have a look at what you are trying to do and do it better. Get support, ask for help. Don't give up.
If like me you have been in both spaces and know well enough just how long you need to idle there but just need something to smooth your way into Monday have a listen to this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4P1x7Yy9CXI



Thank you for joining me this morning, I have thoroughly enjoyed your company. Do call again and tell you friends to drop in.
If you want to share your stories with me and the rest of the ladies who read 'real woman's words' drop me a message. I would be happy to publish your story too.

Monday 11 November 2013

The Waiting Crossroads

Today's posting is inspired by this quip of comedian Lily Tomlin.

"I always wanted to be somebody, but now I realise I should have been more specific".

The reason that his has inspired me is that I find myself at yet another crossroads and uncharacteristically find myself stopping and thinking about which way to go next. This crossroads that I find myself at is one I have taken to calling the 'waiting crossroads' simply because it is one that requires the traveller to wait.
To date the paths I have chosen to take in life have been lit by an intuitive lamp, the light from the lamp helped me to see something that I became interested in and so pursued. The pursuing has usually involved a lot of hard work but the opportunity to pursue has always been there. So for example many years ago I studied nursing and became a nurse, I worked hard. I became interested in law, I studied law and became a lawyer.  I worked hard. I became interested in teaching, I studied teaching and became a teacher. I worked hard. I became interested in research and I studied for a Masters degree in Philosophy and followed this up by a PhD. I worked hard. I developed an interest in learning from errors and coaching. I studied coaching and became a coach. I worked hard.

All of the times I became interested in something I realise that I had arrived at a crossroads on the path that I had chosen for myself. By reaching a crossroads I had the opportunity to carry on the path I walked on or try a different path. You can see from the story I have just told you that I have always chosen a different path, the path of the unfamiliar.
Standing at the crossroads this time it is as if the roads I have travelled all converge in this one place, and that to go on I must once again choose but choose with the benefit of hindsight and not foresight. This time though I have not had the instinctive lamp to light the way, instead I have no lamp. So I ask myself this question, if all of the paths lead to here where or what is here? Who am I? 
I am comfortable with the process of self-reflection and am even getting good at being in the here and now or 'mindfulness' that is lauded as the way to make sense of our complex and changing lives. But these activities do not seem to bring about the clarity that it is I need to choose a path to walk down. It seems that as well as allowing myself to sit here in the present I also need to immerse myself in the choices so far made in order to see the pattern, and by doing so I will be able to either add to the existing pattern or change it completely.
Sitting still is not in my nature, I am a woman of action, I am challenged by the stillness by having to wait. Initially I ran down lots of paths because the stopping and staying still was too difficult, this led to lots of cul-de-sacs and a whole heap of frustration. But now I am waiting. I sit at my crossroads and I wait and I trust that the next path will become apparent but will only become apparent if I wait.
 



Going back to Lily Tomlin, this waiting crossroads is one that allows you to be more specific. It is one you come to only after you have chosen many others. So my women friends the wisdom I can offer to you from my experience is this, when you do not know which path to take do not take one. The waiting crossroads is one of importance.This is unlike others. This one requires you to stop and wait. Eventually the path that is for you will become clear. Then you should proceed.

Thursday 7 November 2013

Fall down Seven Times, Get up Eight



Hello all you wonderful women, today I am very proud to bring you this story from Tracy McMahon. 


Fall down Seven Times, Get up Eight
It’s cemented in stone. I have committed the crime of fraud. I’m a mother, a partner, a sister, a daughter and I am a friend. I fell from the rails and committed one of the worst acts in the eyes of the British Public, however minor the amount was in the great scheme of the world we live in today.
I lost everything. My children, my home, the love of my life and ultimately, I lost all moral fibre. After a legal battle to see my children that lasted five years to pay my legal fees, I started a life of crime. That battle has not ended and as my children are now adults, the battle continues within me and there are no other words to describe the feeling other than it feels like I have been stabbed every single day of my life being without them. I’ve hurt my father, my mother, my children and some very good friends. However, I own my crimes and those who want to make it their own have chosen this route and I am in no position to change the direction of their sails. Overnight my friends disappeared from my life vowing never to speak to me again. To date, they have stood by their words. I can only make amends where I am allowed to.
I was sentenced four months ago, on June 14th. I honestly thought I was going to prison. I had been warned that I was going to prison. I was transferred in a van via the M6 motorway to a Northern court where my sentence was to be passed. Breaking the news to my mother was one of the hardest tasks I have ever had to do. My mother has the mental disorder, schizophrenia, yet my pain somehow brought her back to the reality which was staring her in the face. Her daughter was going to prison. People waved the newspaper article in her face, the same people who have taunted her for years and who she has closed out in her mind as she enters her own world that doesn’t exist for you and me.
I lived on a canal bank. I was not given a custodial sentence. As desperate as I felt, something flickered in me. At the back of my mind, there was a pilot light burning away quietly. That light brought me a smile and despite the fear, I picked myself up, dusted myself down and I write today from a very different platform. I have picked up my business and given it a dusting down. I write for a respected publication and in the New Year, I am to offer work to women who have also fallen from the path we are supposed to tread in the boundaries of the society we live in.
I’ve learned my lesson. I fell down seven times and the eighth time I got up; I stood up and stood tall. I’ve worked 15 hours a day to bring my business to a workable level. Those who were once my nemesis have now become my friends. Those who refuse to speak with me, I can do nothing about.
Remember that little pilot light? I touched it and it is now a towering inferno. That little pilot light was the little voice that was telling me to keep trying and in the great words of Mary Ann Radmacher;
Courage is not always the lion that roars, sometimes it’s the little voice in the corner that says; “I will try again tomorrow”
My pilot light was my courage.

Tracey McMahon is the author of Tyranny and Keeping the National in the National 
 Probation Service. She also features as part of the "View From" series on Criminal Law  

Please carry on sharing your stories with us here on realwomanswords, leave a comment or contact me to become a guest author. Dr. Dee Gray