Misty Mountains

Monday – Morning – Early – Start –
Car – Troubled – Children – Missed –
Four – Big – Days – At – Work –
Many – Meetings – People – Buzzing –
All – Day – Long – And – Beyond –
Thursday – Evening – Nearly – Done –
Literally – And – Figuratively –
Peaks – Scaled – Views – Good

A week of hard work, with people from many places wrestling with the challenges of achieving an ambitious future – in an uncertain world. Two thoughts helped me along.

First, self-deception. I read in the New Scientist the other week that humans are masters of self-deception. It’s an important survival adaptation. The fact we can kid ourselves, helps us kid others and cope with life.

It’s obvious that when you’re looking several years ahead, there are lots of imponderables. So, as I said to several people this week, the art of conceiving and believing a vision of the future is to render it like Disney’s ‘enchanted castle’ – glowing, magical and distant.

The huge mistake is to seek to describe it in too much detail. Do that and Disney’s Castle dissolves in detailed questions about how the sewers will work. Drawing on our natural gift for self-deception – as a force for optimism, enthusiasm and positive change – requires that the future keep some of its mystery.

My second thought comes from ‘cross cultural’ training which I did when I was first sent East in the early 1990s. Eastern cultures, in general, value cohesion and alignment more than Western, where individualism and drive are more prized. The heroic leader and tough minded strategy can feel good in our hemisphere. But as President Bartlett said in the ‘West Wing’: “Leadership when no-one follows is just taking a walk”.

Back to that training. If you think of people as ‘bar magnets’, the Eastern view is that time spent aligning is vital to getting the whole moving sustainably. If all your magnets are pointing in different directions, that’s a lot of dissipated energy.

I’ve found, in recent years, sharing more context invariably nudges ‘magnets’ into better alignment. People are rarely persuaded by specific arguments, but always become more aligned by more shared context.

Disney castles and bar magnets are two good reasons to spend time sharing stories and context. But not too much time. Spend too much time and the vision gets unpicked in its details. And subsequent attempts at persuasion leave the magnets askew again.

Magnets, magic and misty mountains are an important part of the art of seizing today and coping with tomorrow, I reckon. That, and taking time – but not too much – to come together.

Not on my bike

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Memory lane
Commuter train
This one is composed of four coaches
Set of jokers

Odysseus’ suffered all the trials and tribulations of life at the hands of the gods. And he came through a better man. So I’ve opened a new poetics category in his honour. A packed commuter train is a small inconvenience compared to his quest for Ithaca, but if he were around today that’d be his lot too. The small indignities are the worst. Still the sun is shining.

P.S: The train should’ve been eight coaches. When I used to catch them, Monday morning was always dogged by me being late, trains being randomly cancelled and then the critical one arriving with four carriages instead of eight causing commuter carnage. As it was, so it still is.

Poetic Licence

The experience of rapidly tapping out some words (‘School Run’ below), to manage my stress and frustration at my son not getting out of the car this Thursday morning, was an interesting one.

There’s something about tapping an iPhone screen and conjuring a few words of rhyme which both soothes and fulfils. So I did another on ‘spelling’ on Friday morning:

Spelling test
Practice quest
Raised tempers
Points incentives
Distraction reigns
Grumps
Everyone’s cross
What have we lernd
Very little

‘Awayday’ (below) tumbled out last night and I find myself unexpectedly enjoying churning out poetry instead of prose for a change. Perhaps it’s the influence of Twitter. Saying more in less distills your words. Overnight I got a cheerful ‘like’ and a nice comment to encourage me along.

As so often in recent times I have Aristotle to thank. He says the job of the poet is to say something transcendent and universal about the human condition, in no more or less words than are needed. I find this strangely liberating. It doesn’t matter if it’s perfect, scans or rhymes. The job is done if it says something which chimes.

Banal is meaningful if it triggers a memory or a moment of empathy. I read in the New Scientist this week that life passes more quickly as we get older because our senses are no longer constantly alight with new experiences – we’ve seen it all before. The challenge then is to keep finding ways to bring life to life. So I’ve recorded my morning for my own pleasure and future recollection. Aristotle gives us all poetic licence, which is good for the mind and the soul.

Post office sorting
A Saturday routine
Too large for your letterbox
Sorry you weren’t in
Stand in line
For modern life’s Aladdin’s cave
Got any ID for that
Then
Cardboard boxes and sealed bags
Reveal
New household treasure
To carry off
In triumph
Home

Bacon sandwich
Warm baguette
Irish rasher
Ketchup lash
Then
Focused eating
Greasy plate
The only trace

Sun’s rays
Happy days
In the park
The children lark
Throwing and catching
Tearing around
Shouts of delight
Ball goes to hand
Ball goes to ground
Swings, bumps and bikes
Life is easy
Sometimes

Awayday

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Team awayday
Cautious start
Scrape of chairs
Opening gambits
Familiar tunes
And some new ones
New dance partners
Take careful steps
The odd squashed toe
All trying gamely
Until we lose one another
Lengthy meander
Round the houses
Some infinite loops
Time gets short
Tempers shorter
Cavalry charge
Then it all slows down
And the record stops
Moment of silence
Ice breaks
Put back together
Fire each other up
Clear the fog
Next steps
Sense of closure
Spot of disclosure
We all feel closer
Wrap it up
And game over
Decent result

School Run

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School run
Is no fun
Crying child
Try to be mild
In the car
Getting later
So many people
Do nothing to cater
Me first
You wait
Milling around at the gate
Daughter searching
For her pals
Sees them
Runs
Little wave
Safely done
Then my son
‘I don’t want to!’
Take a moment
Out he comes
In the playground
Climbing frame
Changes the game
A kiss on the run
From my bun
His smiling face
Saving grace
Hard slog
Right old flog
It gone done
Not much fun
Ho hum
Tomorrow is another one