Category: Personal Insights

A three-day weekend

If you travel to Samoa from New Zealand you travel back in time – 23 hours at the moment to be precise – and if like I did last Sunday evening, you travel on Sunday evening you get two Sundays. Which from what I could see if you were local, means that you would spend two days in a row going to church and I imagine, having quiet family time. The missionary colonialists could not have imagined such success to convert the locals to Christianity. It would appear as a miracle beyond their wildest expectations. In my hotel two of the six channels available were showing local church services.

A Samoan waterfront run

When Monday arrived the deserted town of Apia surged into life with uniformed police maintaining or watching – I couldn’t tell – traffic flowing in this busy harbour-side town. I found coffee too – at the curiously named Sydney Side Cafe – and everyone I spoke to commented how hot it was. Really? We are in the tropics man. Am I the only one that knows that?

 

I’ve been warned when I start my training delivery tomorrow that they might only want to talk about the Rugby World Cup. That’ll be okay – Manu Samoa did their nation proud, give or take a tweet or three but who really cares? I’ve had a couple of jogs to get the muscles moving after the Auckland Marathon. I haven’t seen anyone else out running and if I lived here I’d start a running group – there’s a lovely waterfront that looks like it stretches well out of the town that would be good for out and backs. I’ve been here before, a few years ago and there are some new buildings and they now drive most of the time on the left side of the road (airport transfers in the middle of the night excepted!).

 

Samoa is moving forward on 29 December 2011 – by a whole day to align its time to New Zealand – that would be a great opportunity to say to the world that it’s moving forward in a number of other ways too. The work I’m doing here is in a very small way part of Samoa up-skilling itself for wealth prosperity and dare I say it, happiness. Not sure about that part as everyone I see seems pretty happy with their lot.

People seem pretty happy at the hotel though like other Pacific nations I’ve been through, I can see from my runs around Apia that the Hotel is not like the locals live at all. There were families out walking this evening, raw smoke from open fires and the next generation of Rugby players mucking around by the harbour with shirts off. All in all pretty laid back and easy feeling.

We drive ourselves pretty hard most of the time – well I feel I do – and there’s rewards and satisfaction from achievement and goal setting. Happy though? It’s a very difficult thing to measure by observing such difference in societal norms. Maybe I’ll get a better sense in the morning when I interact at a more meaningful level with local professionals. And great food for thought at our Wisdom Retreat for Senior Leaders starting the day I return.

Looking forward. And if you want your three day weekend, you’ve only go about 6 weeks to do it.

Stephen

ps I’m back after RWC2011, Auckland Marathon and some manic work commitments!

Grandma’s Clock Part One

Visiting Grandma (and Grandad till he died in 1967) in Auckland in the 1960s and 70s were great times.  The memories are not complete without reference to the sound of the mantle piece clock sounding every 15 minutes. After Grandma died in 1990 I took over the clock which after 50 odd years of service had stopped functioning. It wasn’t until this century that I had it restored to it’s former glory though somehow I don’t have the same ability to sleep through the chimes every 15 minutes that Grandma seemed to, so I don’t wind up the chimes or on-the-hour bells.

It’s incredible how the sound of the clock can bring back so many memories, both in time and space and when the dear old clock stopped working a few weeks ago it was off to the Polish watchmaker in Queen Street who restored it originally for me.  Grandma was a no nonsense person who said what she thought when she thought it and didn’t go for ceremony or emotion. Watching the celebrated New Zealand pianist Michael Houston in full flight on the TV once she remarked: “Why doesn’t he keep his head still – he’s only hitting the keys, all that moving around is quite unnecessary!”

The message from the watchmaker was one Grandma would have appreciated. Listen to it here: Watchmaker message. Priceless. Just what you’d expect. It’s a full service required – $400 – but that’s a small price to pay for keeping all those memories alive.

We should look forward and live in the present. But we are made up from the past too.

Stephen

Present future

Are you here? Or will you be gone by the first paragraph? It’s a long weekend coming up and by the look of the offices around here, I’m the only one not in it yet. One of our participants told me in no uncertain terms today that I was to sort out my work-life balance and not work in this long weekend, so I’m going to blog now. At this moment.

I had a nice dinner with Dad last night in Mt Eden. As we talked I realised we were very much in the moment. Respectful, interesting (well he was anyway), listening, allowing time for our thoughts to properly process, and gaining great insights. The biggest insight for me was to realise how seldom we are truly in the moment.

With the long weekend upon us now’s a great time to practice being present with loved ones. You might be rushing down the motorway, off to a favourite destination, a big hurry to pack, all sorted and off. When you get there, don’t rush the three days.  And if you’re coming back early to “beat the traffic” I’d be asking who you’re trying to “beat” on a holiday. Or even worse, “beat” someone to finish the holiday! Congratulations (excuse my sarcasm) you “won”  the race to finish the holiday!

The present is, well, curiously, right now, not in the future.

Dad and I had that much waited for future moment in the present last night.

Enjoy!

Stephen

A run for Lloyd

In August 2000 I let my house in Orakei to a lovely, funny and very clever man called Lloyd Lang. Lloyd was a psychiatrist and although I didn’t want any dogs in the house, for some reason it seemed like the right thing to do so he moved in with his dogs. I became friendly with Lloyd and one day when he said how much he liked the house, I said well buy it then. And he did. Having Lloyd in that house, where Tom and Tim had spend 7 years as young boys, kept a connection going. It’s difficult to explain but it’s been a good thing for me.

Exactly two years ago I was at the Polynesian spa in Rotorua on the evening before the Rotorua Marathon when the unmistakable sound of Lloyd and a local doctor friend came to my attention. Lloyd completed the 10k event in the hour he had hoped and on the evening after we went for a Thai dinner. I don’t reckon anyone has entertained my Tim more at dinner than what Lloyd did that night. Tim still remembers it. “Twenty dollars!” he cheerfully offered to any of us and selected waiters for guessing his favourite song, his favourite food and a range of other random thoughts.

Today I left the workshop we were running to attend Lloyd’s funeral. He died on Sunday from cardiac arrest. I knew he had had surgery and he had told me once recently he wasn’t great. When I last saw him a couple of weeks ago he introduced me to his new lady Amber. He was clearly happy.

I’ve never been to a Jewish funeral before and was surprised at the ritual and speed. I’m glad that I shovelled some soil into Lloyd’s grave. I put a shovel of soil in for Tim and others for those I knew who were touched by Lloyd but didn’t make it today.

I’ll run the marathon in the morning thinking of Lloyd. Like I am now.

Small comfort to his family and partner right now, but you made the world a happier place Lloyd. Thank you.

His favourite song? “I did it my way”, by Frank Sinatra.

Stephen