Tag Archives: celebrating

Sucking the marrow from the bones of life

About Dorothy, ,

Tomorrow I travel to Japan to spend two weeks with my brother Alan and my sister-in-law Judy. Alan is making an extended visit in order to work with his Japanese colleagues and his wife Judy, a teacher, is with him for the duration of the summer holidays.

The last few days I have increasingly been listing my “things to do” under the headings “before I go away” and “when I come back”. Today is crunch day – anything that doesn’t get done today won’t get done until I return.

As I write I am waiting for a call. My caller is late in phoning and I decide to clear a few e-mails. I read Michael Neill’s most recent newsletter and am struck by a quote, tucked away at the bottom, from the writings of Henry David Thoreau:

“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, to suck the marrow from the bones of life; to put to rout all that was not life, and not to come to the end of life, and discover that I had not lived.”

I take a few moments, waiting for my call, to celebrate the life I am living.

Celebrating your comments

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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.

Celebrating the power of nonviolent communication

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In recent days, my inbox has been peppered with messages from colleagues who, like me, attended an international intensive training in something called “nonviolent” or “compassionate” communication in July 2007.

Nonviolent communication is the work of Marshall Rosenberg and it was Marshall who ran the training. Marshall has dedicated much of his life to evolving a practical approach to communication, which could be seen as the manifestion of the biblical injunction to “love our neighbours as ourselves” or – in more recent times – the injunction of business gurus and psychologists alike to practise “win, win” communication. It has applications in many areas from building relationships that enrich with loved ones, through working with children in schools, through building effective business partnerships to mediation in a variety of settings.

To some, the word “compassionate” might well suggest something soft and woolly – a bit of a “love in”, perhaps! I think of this kind of communication as real or courageous conversations. In practising nonviolent communication I have learned to share myself more fully than I have ever done before, for example, risking whatever response might come my way.

Some relationships have become closer along the way. I also notice I have more and more moments of ease and connection – of intimacy even – with all sorts of people I meet on my way, from colleagues on courses to strangers on buses. Some relationships have ended, too, as the process of exploring reveals needs and intentions that do not sit well with each other. I have never regretted these conversations, nor these endings.

So, as I write, I think of my colleagues from the International Intensive Training and our days together in the beautiful Jura mountains of Switzerland. I celebrate so many moments during this programme that were meaningful to me. I celebrate my colleagues and everything they bring. I connect with the sense of blessing that comes as I think of these colleagues and of these experiences. I connect with the sense of gratitude that is alive in me as I think of everything that Marshall Rosenberg has done to develop this means of communication and to share it across the world. Blessings upon him. Blessings upon my colleagues. Blessings upon us all.

Ladies of the London Symphony Chorus

About Dorothy, ,

Having my own business allows a degree of flexibility and still there are choices to be made. Months ago, in the midst of a busy singing schedule, I opted not to sing this week in two concerts of Mahler’s Eighth Symphony at Saint Paul’s Cathedral, recognising the time commitment involved and the challenges of juggling these demands with my work schedule. Still, I opted to support the chorus by travelling today to Tewkesbury Abbey to sing in Vaughan William’s Sinfonia Antartica, knowing ahead of time how exhausted the choir would be today.

So, my coaching schedule has been condensed and I start the day early in order both to prepare for my day trip to Tewkesbury and to be fully present to my coaching clients before I leave. As I travel to meet my singing colleagues I savour the progress of my clients, enjoying the sense of privilege that comes from our work together.

As I board the coach there is much talk of the Mahler concerts and I experience the slight flutter – a sense of loss – that comes with knowing I have chosen to miss two important concerts. Four hours later, the ladies of the London Symphony Chorus arrive in Tewkesbury just in time to rehearse the ethereal siren-song which emanates from the rear of the Abbey at the beginning of the Sinfonia Antartica. We have time to rehearse and to catch a bite to eat at My Great Grandfather’s across the road before returning to hear the orchestra play Ravel’s Le Tomberau de Couperin and Bruch’s Violin Concerto Number 1 before we sing. Alina Ibragimova plays the solo violin with a commitment and assurance beyond her young years.

22 years into my membership of the Chorus I know that whilst we sing together, our memories of concerts are often strictly personal. I have my own special reasons to enjoy singing in the Abbey, and I enjoy these associations as well as the evening’s spirited performance.

We travel into the night to get home. I blog. It’s already time for bed.

Celebrating the day

About Dorothy,

Friday.

I wake early with a busy day ahead. I am at my local supermarket just as it opens, knowing I won’t get time to shop over the weekend, and I’m back in time to prepare for my first coaching session with a new client. We have two luxurious hours together and I know I’m going to enjoy our work together.

Shortly after she leaves I also leave. My nephew, Edward, has his final concert as part of his MA and I travel to central London, to the Guildhall School of Music and Drama to join him. His mother (my sister-in-law) Judy and my mother also join us and we enjoy the work of Edward and his fellow composers and the instrumentation which includes an accordion and alphorns. The steps of the Recital Theatre, supporting the alphorns, take the place of the Swiss Alps.

After lunch together I travel home, enjoying the views along the river as I cross London Bridge on foot. Something about these river views continues to delight and sustain me even after all these years. I am home for a brief period before going out again so I prioritise, down-loading information for my weekend workshop and checking my e-mails. Then a few minutes to blog before I head back towards London Bridge.

I am on my way to join former colleagues from the Hay Group, where I worked until I set up my own business in 2002. The ‘ex Hay’ network meets twice a year and many former colleagues continue to cherish friendships, to collaborate as colleagues, or as colleagues and clients. I look forward to our meeting on the South Bank.

As I write I celebrate the day.

On becoming an alkalarian

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As I pick up e-mails at close of play I pick up a request from a friend for details of this strange green drink I enjoy, aka Supergreens. It’s almost a year since I started drinking it (two litres a day most days) and my skin is supersoft.

More recently I have been making changes to my diet after reading Robert Young’s book The Ph Miracle. This is one of a number of books which point to the benefit of a diet which is based substantially on alkaline-forming foods (basically, greens) in place of the acid-forming foods that comprise a modern Western diet.

Three months in I am realising this is a journey rather than an overnight transformation. Giving up coffee and tea has been a major step and largely successful. I’m happily eating salad for breakfast most days. Giving up dairy products is proving more of a challenge – how hard I find it to say “no” to a chunk of mature cheddar or strawberries and cream!

More than anything, in recent days, it’s been a marker for my progress that I can now say “I am becoming an alkalarian” without giggling.

Blogging, coaching and client confidentiality

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Whilst some coaching clients infinitely prefer to meet face to face, today I speak with clients who prefer to speak by phone. This has many benefits all round – our calls are condensed and productive and nobody spends any time travelling. What’s more, our calls today are timed so that I have time to walk to Blackheath at lunchtime, adding 4,000 steps to my daily target of 10,000 minimum.

As I walk I savour the privilege that comes from working with clients one to one. I think how much it would inspire others to be, like me, a witness to the work my clients do through coaching. I think also of the tight confidentiality agreement I have with my clients and make a mental note to alert my clients to this blog and to remind them of my commitment to our confidentiality agreement.

Still, recognising the way we are inspired by the experiences of others, I also start to play with asking for permission: what will it be like when I say, “if you’re willing to allow me to share it, I’d like to say something about your experience on my blog”?

Let’s get blogging!

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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…