Tag Archives: blogging

Nighttime musings

Every now and then, when something is on my mind, I wake in the middle of the night. Tonight is one of those nights. I have learnt to get up and make myself a hot drink, to read for a while before returning, easily, to sleep.

Tonight I decide to write a few lines on my blog. I am aware that I wrote less often in January than I aim to. I began the month by resting as much as I could to support my body in recovering from a lingering winter bug and then entered a busy couple of weeks.

Waking in the middle of the night I look out on the nighttime beauty of the snow that started to fall in the early evening and is now several inches deep. The light has a quality all of its own as all light reflects from the bright untrodden snow. I enjoy this winter scene.

And before returning to sleep, I take a moment to celebrate my brother, Alan, who is fifty today and my mother, who gave birth fifty years ago to her first child.

Celebrating my readers

It’s six months today since I wrote my first posting on this blog. This has been a step on the path towards recognising how much I love to write and manifesting my joy in writing in ways which others who want to – many others I hope – can share.

As I sit here today, I am looking forward to all sorts of writing plans for the future. Some of my immediate plans involve technology as much as writing. In 2009 I’d like to pull together some of the writing I am already doing to create a coordinated whole – a new website with links to my blog and also my regular newsletters. Given this and other plans, I shall soon be looking for the right technological partner to work with.

As I write, I notice that whether or not anyone reads it, I am enjoying writing this blog. It gives me so much joy to be able to express myself in this way. I am enjoying using this blog as a repository for all sorts of resources and information. I love the experience of taking a few moments to reflect – be it a late ‘tea break’, the sharing of some new information or a more coordinated series of postings.

And still, even whilst enjoying this lonesome pursuit, I feel so grateful when I think of those people who, together, constitute my readers. You do not know each other. Often I do not know you are reading. Until, that is, you let me know of your struggles to leave a comment or that you know about my recent visit to Dubai, or… or… or… I thank you for your reading, which connects us even when we don’t speak. I celebrate this connection.

With grateful thanks to the readers of UKHRD

Six years ago, with bated breath, I left my job with the Hay Group to set up my own business. The deep personal and professional journey on which I was about to embark was as yet unknown to me. The richness of joy and experience that lay ahead were beyond my imagining at that time. I felt fear, excitement. Mostly, I felt fear.

My colleague from way back when, Norman, let me know of a community of professionals with an interest in questions of learning and development, who meet virtually through a daily digest of postings and responses. Back then it was called UKHRD. Since then it has become the TJ (Training Journal) Online Discussion Forum. From the beginning, I found a community of people willing to support each other. From the beginning, I discovered my own joy in participating in the forum. I loved to share and I loved the variety of feedbacks that came my way.

Last Christmas I was blown away to receive a card from Carrie, one of the readers of the Digest, who let me know just how much she enjoyed my postings. Suddenly I became aware of my own joy in writing in a new way. What a paradox! So obvious was it to me that I enjoy writing that it was sitting outside my conscious awareness. I started to ask myself, what do I want to do with this gift that I enjoy so much?

Later, it seemed natural to engage members of the Forum in this question. I spoke with Angie, another member of the Forum, about her own experiences of blogging. Our conversation was more than enough to inspire me to begin this blog even whilst being as yet uncertain about the purposes it would serve and unaware of what it might lead to.

Suddenly, this evening, as I plan a posting which has yet to be written, I think of my colleagues on the Forum with a deep sense of gratitude. From those who have read my postings in silence to those who have given feedback, from those who have welcome my postings to those who have found them harsh or unfair, from those who have sought out my professional support as a result of what they read to those who have offered support in a wide variety of areas. And this evening, I especially think of those whose actions inspired me to begin this as-yet-still-young weblog.

Celebrating the postings that have yet to be written

Perhaps – only perhaps – it is because I am still new to blogging that I have yet to experience a “dry season” in my posting, a time when the inspiration to write does not want to come.

Today, I walk to Blackheath where I stop for a drink before picking up my dry cleaning. The sun is shining – as it seems to have done only rarely this summer – and I sit outside in the late summer sunshine. My mind is full of the postings that have yet to be written – about midlife and what it means to have reached “half time”, about – ahead of our forthcoming concerts – the story of the Hebrew slaves that underpins Walton’s Belshazzar’s Feast, about the session of EFT I had yesterday with my friend Alex, about School Coach, about…, about…, about… It seems that there is no shortage of “abouts”.

I take a moment, ahead of writing about School Coach, to notice all the postings that are forming in my mind, all the postings that I have yet to write.

I celebrate them all.

The joy of blogging

It does me good to get out every now and then, both literally and metaphorically.

This weekend I celebrated the marriage of my dear friend Kenny Tranquille to his soulmate and partner Karen, now Karen Tranquille. They married in the walled garden of the Rowhill Grange Hotel in Kent, a wonderful setting for the most personal of ceremonies. As I write this posting I get to celebrate all over again.

Whilst I was there, I had a conversation which – to keep things uncharacteristically brief – led me on my return to go Googling to learn more about a man called Hugo Schwyzer. I discovered Hugo has a blog and I dived in. A fairly random browse quickly led me to the discovery that he has been married and divorced three times and is engaged to be married for a fourth time. His blog also had an index of postings so, curious, I looked for “divorce” and read what he had to say about this.

Now, following the conversation I mentioned, I had hoped to hear Hugo speak this evening at the Kabbalah Centre in London. However, by the time I got home to check my diary I remembered that I’ve already arranged to have supper with my friend Andy. This is tucked between my return from Japan and his departure for Australia and something I don’t want to miss.

Still, reading Hugo’s blog reminded me of the facility to label postings so that readers can easily search for topics of interest at a later date. This is the first posting I am labelling in this way.

I am curious about the what this might lead to in time.

Coaching: a global study of successful practices

Sometimes, thoughts and ideas come together in new ways.

Every now and again, I send out information and resources that come my way to friends, colleagues and clients with an interest in coaching. Recently I forwarded information about a new study, published in May 2008 by the American Management Association, about coaching. The study does what it says on the tin: it’s a global study of successful practices in coaching.

One of my colleagues dropped me a line and asked: what about forming a shared online resource for coaches? I confess, my heart sank – something else to take care of? No thank you. And still, two days later, I suddenly realise my blog is as good a place as any to post the link. Here it is:

http://www.amanet.org/editorial/webcast/2008/coaching.htm

It’s a chunky read! I look forward to hearing how you get on.

Celebrating your comments

In recent weeks I have started to share with people details of my blog, still in its infancy. Friends, family, clients and colleagues have been reading, making comments and – with a curiosity I had not anticipated – asking questions. (Why blogging? How many readers do you have? etc.) Some readers have tried to leave postings only to discover they have to register before commenting.

Returning home on Wednesday after the earliest of early starts I notice a first comment on the blog and am surprised to notice the excitement I feel. Hurrah! Yippee! Yeahah!

On Thursday, I take a moment to send a personal thank you to Len, the wise owl, who commented on my posting of Saturday, 12th July. His good wishes bounce back almost immediately.

This morning, I take a moment to record this. I am curious about the comments that may come in future as well as joyful as I think of this first comment, recognising the joy I feel in connecting with other people in a wide variety of situations and by a wide variety of means.

I feel grateful. Blessed.

Let’s get blogging!

It’s been a few weeks since I started to think about blogging. This morning I woke up knowing that today is the day to set up this blog and post my first entry.

More generally, I have become more aware in recent months than ever before of the joy writing gives me – whether to share with others or for myself. Setting up a blog is one step towards exploring writing and what it brings to me and to others in my life – friends, family, clients.

I am already aware of some questions I have yet to answer. I’d like to write about my experiences and many of these involve other people. As a coach I guarantee the confidentiality of my work with clients – so how do I share and maintain confidentiality? I also have a love of literature and will no doubt want to include quotes – so what copyright laws apply? No doubt I shall be exporing the answers to these and many other questions as I go.

Oh – and who will read my blog? I wonder…