Girls just want to have fun

24 02 2010

I am sitting in the sun drinking coffee. I would usually be at a yoga class right now but I was unwell overnight. So this morning finds me having a rare moment to myself, sitting in the wonderful Peak Sports Village, Stirling, watching youngsters spider their way up the climbing wall.

Two things strike me. First of all, when do we stop having fun?

The children, boys and girls, are having a great time. They are focussed on climbing to very top and their flexible limbs and lack of fearallow them to pick the hand and toe holds effortlessly. When they get to the top they fling themselves off and bounce their abseil to the ground.

There is such fun in climbing things. As children my brothers and I used to cycle a couple of miles to a small copse which we grandly called Green Wood. Climbing trees, and avoiding the farmer who owned the woodland, was part of our daily routine during the long summer holidays.As our road on the edge of town became circled by more and more new houses the building sites became our climbing ground.

Now I know that it is impossible to do that now, all building sites are fenced off to prevent accident and injuryto kids making a playground of the bricks and scaffolding but my point remains that climbing is fun and as kids we will climb anything!

At some point, probably in my early teens, I stopped climbing. Girls don’t climb trees, but actually the boys stopped climbing too so it’s not all about gender. It is about putting aside childish pleasures and engaging with the world of study, school and work.

I was talking to my pal Barry earlier in the week and he had taken his 3 year old daughter to nursery for the first time that morning. This had meant getting her up at 8 o’ clock that morning in order to get her ready and to the nursery by 9. What struck him was that he was startingher out, aged 3, on the treadmill of real-life; having to get up at a certain time and be at some place at another time; up for shool, up for college, up for work. Real-life had started for his daughter. When to wake up and what to do with her day would no longer be entirely under her control.

And the secnd thing that struck me is, when dio we stop trying new things?

At school we are encouraged to specialise. We are an arts person or a science person. Once a college course is selected our choices narrow further; an arts person becomes a linguist or actor perhaps. A science person becomes a zoologist or maybe a doctor. Once a job is chosen then the horizon closes in yet again. While the world has changed such that there are fewer and fewer jobs for life our choices are still prescribed; an accountant will seek work in finance; a teacher will look to say in education. While retraining after redundancy is commonplace it is still unusual for people to actively seek career change.

My own career is a mosaic and the path from zoologist to magazine proprietor via sculptor and engineering appears exotic but every step made perfect logical sense at the time. People say to me “I couldn’t do what you have done”. Yes, they can. All it takes is the willingness to actively court, or at least embrace, change.

I took up climbing again about 10 years ago, when my son was about 8. He loved it and so did I. I redeiscovered the simple pleasure of climbing. There is just you and the wall and a rope. Maybe it’s a primate thing but there is a primitive pleasure in working arms and legs together and scrambling to the top.

I’m not a keen abseiler as the descent forces me to cede control to whoever is in charge of the belay. My descent is a little tentative compared to the children who abandon themselves to gravity and the rope. So I have lost some of the carefree aspects of climbing as I am aware, in a way that the children are not, of the dangers involved. But the fear of the fall does not stop me climbing. the fear of failure has never stopped me trying anything new.

So I encourage you all to try something new, to embrace change and, who knows, ypou may just rediscover fun!





50 is the new 40

21 02 2010

When I was 21 I had lots of invitations in the post, to nightclubs I had previously had to sneak into. This morning I had an invitation to participate in NHS Tayside’s bowel screening programme. Welcome to my 50’s.

But it’s not all bad.

Looking back I remember my 10th birthday. Lots of my schoolfriends came round to the house.  We drank diluting orange juice, probably kia ora (I’ll be your dog-remember that?) and ate salmon paste sandwiches and crisps. The girls wore hot pants and the boys matching flowered shirts and ties.  We were all excited, on the thresh-hold of being “top juniors” and then off to big school.

By 20 I was at university and a party at Genevives Night Club (I wonder if it is still there? I’ll google it later. You couldn’t do that in 1980! ). That’s as much as I remember of the night. I had moved away from home, had a wonderful fiance and the world of work and independent living beckoned.

Ten years later I had been married and divorced and had just moved to Scotland to set up my own design and advertising  agency. Once again my new decade was full of possibilities. I was making a fresh start in a new country.

When I turned 40 I was at the centre of the dot.com boom, with investors queuing up to put higher and higher valuations on my fledgling retail business. I remember having lunch at the Gleneagles Hotel on the day of my birthday and not wondering what I should order or considering the price but casually wondering if I would be able to afford to buy the hotel!

And now I am 50 and at the very start of another new venture.

Each new decade has brought fresh possibilities and fresh opportunities.

We give some dates particular significance; birthdays, wedding anniversaries, Christmas and all of the other festivals we use to mark the passage of time. I notice this particularly in the community at Corbenic where I work each week. The year is structured around festivals, most Christian but some old rural feasts and some entirely arbitrary like the masked ball that accompanies Shrove Tuesday. The celebrations give a structure to the year and create the pattern for life in the community. There is always something to look forward to.

While these significant dates can have a purpose, give focus and structure to life both in planning forward and in looking back , we shouldn’t be controlled by them.  Lots of us make resolutions at the start of each year which are broken by the end of January. If something is worth doing it is worth doing at any time. Why wait until lent to give up chocolate? Why wait until 1st January to drink a little less? That is why we started a campaign to encourage people to Do Just One Thing. To make a small change. It needn’t be onerous. It needn’t be huge but the process of embracing change and trying new things is an important one.

So, in the words of one of the magazine columnists, I intend to age with attitude. Not just on my 50th birthday but from my 50th birthday and for each day forward.





Feelings and the feeling of feelings

9 02 2010

When I was a Zoology undergraduate I read Darwin’s “The Exression of Emotion in Man and Animals”. It was an absolutely fascinating read but it didn’t leave a lasting impression and it wasn’t one of the books that survived the downsizing coup when I moved house three years ago.

Having recently read an article in the New Scientist “Emotions You Didn’t Know You Had” , where five new emotions were suggested as additions to the six that psychologists agree apply the world over, I revisited my dismissive attitude.

But it would appear that I was not alone in not paying much attention to emotion as a research topic. By the late 1800’s Charles Darwin had been joined by William James and Sigmund Freud in making significant contributions to the literature on the subject yet from that point, and continuing throughout the 20th century, emotion was not subjected to scientific study. It was thought to be too subjective, too elusive, too vague.

In recent years scientists have returned to the study of emotion and even the accepted opposition of emotion to reason has been challenged.

So, what are the six primary emotions? Most people will correctly guess some and add in some of their own but the six agreed by psychologists as being experienced and expressed by humans across the globe are happiness, sadness, fear, anger, surprise and disgust.

There are many other behaviours that are labelled as emotions. In his book “The Feeling of What Happens” Antonio Damasio suggests secondary, social, emotions such as guilt and pride and tertiary (background) emotions such as malaise and stress.

However it is only the primary emotions that are expressed with reproducible clarity in the faces of anyone experiencing that emotion and in such a way that we would all recognise the emotion being expressed. Background emotions may not be so clearly discernable in the facial expressions but often subtle body changes can be detected which allow most of us to detect most emotions most of the time.

I started out by mentioning Darwin’s “The Exression of Emotion in Man and Animals” and with that title it is clear that emotion is not a uniquely human attribute.  So why do we feel that emotion is so distictly human?

it is because of the human capacity for feeling. Feeling is what is engendered by the emotions. Our feelings are inwardly directed and personal and outwardly displayed as emotions. The lasting impact of feelings requires consciousness and this is the uniquely human aspect.

So when people say that they can hide their feelings they are, to use a modern idiom “mispeaking”. Feelings are experienced internally. A person may, if expert enough, be able to hide the outward expression of the feeling; that is they can hide the emotion.  For most of us the spontaneous smile caused by a feeling of genuine delight is impossible to hide, which is why we are prepared to pay large sums of money to see great actors who are skilled inthe deliberate manipulation of their emotions.

And what of emotion and reason? Over the years I have become increasingly interested in the area of emotional intelligence – a juxtaposition of words that would have been totally unacceptable to my student self. Emotion, or so I thought, was the enemy of reason. I was on the side of Mr Spock not James T Kirk on this one! However recent experiments have shown that emotions are an integral part of decision making. Several individuals who where extremely rational in their decision making up to the time that they suffered a serious head injury which had caused loss of certain emotions, were shown to have also lost their ability to make rational decisions in matters concerning relationships.  While they retained the ability to tackle problems of logic and to create a rational picture of the world they had lost the ability to make rational decisions in personal and social contexts.

So in fact the old enemies motion and reason may in fact be partners.

In business this is starting to be more clearly accepted. It is not that gut feeling should be allowed to take precedence over careful analysis of a business situation but the way we “feel” about a decision cannot be simply ignored.

The way we feel about something may well come from our subconscious. Sometimes we know why we feel a certain way. We may, for example, see a familiar face and feel happy. A certain place may bring back memories of an unhappy time and we feel uneasy, uncomfortable.  At other times we feel uneasy but cannot put a finger o exactly why we feel that way but we know that there is something there, lurking just out of reach of our conscious mind, but tangible none the less.

To ignore this feeling in a business situation is to ignore a vital piece of information in the decision making process. We must analyse all of the information available to us ; balance shhets, ROI, a CV, whatever is required but how we “feel” about the decision must play a part too.





Who am I? Who are you?

4 02 2010

Yesterday I watched an amazing film sbout an amazing woman.

The woman in question was the late and much missed Mo Mowlem, best known for her deal-making contribution to the Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland. The film itself featured an astounding performance by Julie Walters, who made it seem like we were really watching Mo.

Watching the film I felt that I gained a clearer insight into the political wranglings of the time; in partcular the machismo coupled with cowardice of the Irish leaders of all factions, the machiavellian Peter Mandelson and the mainly invisible but always self-serving Tony Blair,

But most of all I came to believe that I knew Mo better – that I could see how she thought, what motivated her, what made her fight on against the seemingly intractable situation in Northern Ireland and the unwinable battle against her own illness.

Towards the end of the film Mo was shown sitting at a book signing in Belfast and I thought ” I should buy that book”, her account of her own life, in her own words, in order to get to know her even better.

Yet later in the film we see Mo in conversation with her consultant discussing how long the brain tumour had been there and what effect it was having on her behaviour and personality.

And then came the bombshell. The consultant could not say how long the tumour had been there or for how long it had been affecting her behaviour. At that moment Mo realised that there was no way of knowing what was her and what was tumour; whether her fearlessness and dynamism were innate or had always been a result of personality changes caused by the tumour.

And that is what started me thinking.

How do any of us know who we really are?

In his book “The Feeling of What Happens” Antonio Damasio says  “What could be more difficult to know than to know how we know? What could be more dizzying than to realise that it is our having consciousness which makes it possible and even inevitable our questions about consciousness.”

Without consciousness we would not be known to ourselves but even with consciousness are we any better known?

The me who sits here writing this has been in  ed unwell for most of the day. I am tired and my body aches, This is not me.

Last week I was in London attending meetings with other entrepreneurs all keen to progress our ambitions for ourselves and our companies and for other women.

But the me who attended the meetings is not the me that attends yoga class. Neither is it the me that cajoules and bribes my son into doing his share of the housework.

And what about the me I was as a teenager? Even my grandfather, for whom I can do no wrong, says I was dreadful. That was me then. I have seen pictures from that time and recognise myself from the images but I don’t recognise myself from descriptions of the people who knew me then.

And what about me in 10 years time. Will I recognise myself looking back?

It is clear to me that I can never really know myself other than as I exist at this single point in time. I change constantly. The changes are small and each imperceptible but over time the girl becomes woman becomes old.

Unless we can stop time we can never truly grasp who this ME is.