Tag: values

  • Why I make things harder than they have to be …

    "... no room for regret 
    deep down I know 
    I took the longest road 
    to get to where 
    I am meant to be ..."

    All my life I’ve been told that I try too hard and, I’ll admit, I used to take that as a compliment.  I prided myself on always going the extra mile. I’ve been dependable, hard working and, though I hate to say it, a safe pair of hands.   But who wants to be described as a safe pair of hands?  It conjures up images of a boring, unimaginative workhorse, who gets the job done but never displays any initiative.  At least, that’s my association with it.  Is it just me?  I suspect not.

    When I think back on my working career, I believe that my most successful working relationships were with people who liked to push the boundaries, take risks and bend the rules.  Opposites attract, right? We complemented one another.  I was always the sensible one, steering a steady ship, keeping things afloat.  The one who could do the admin, produce the data, follow the rules and, by so doing, keep my more reckless colleagues on course.  

    It’s only as I’ve grown older that I’ve learnt to recognise what has driven my behaviour for much of my life.  I don’t want to get too deep into self-analysis here, because that’s not what this is about at the end of the day.  We all accept, I think, that how we chose to live our lives is deeply rooted in our upbringing, education, experiences, values … you name it, all kinds of stuff will play its part in how we turn out.  I’m your textbook middle child to some degree, but there’s also a host of other factors thrown into the mix, that makes me who and what I am.  

    I’m one of those people who will do it properly, whatever it is.  I’m all in.  If I needed to write a performance review at work, I did it to the best of my ability.  I put time aside, even if it meant eating into my own time; I did the research; wrote a draft and self-edited; I submitted it on time.  If I invite friends for dinner, I’ll cook from scratch.  If I meet a friend for a chat over coffee, I’ll listen intently.  I still iron my clothes; wash my kitchen floor; check my bank account regularly.  

    Boring, I know, but I can’t help it. It’s who I am and how I choose to show up in this world.  And just lately, having listened to the news headlines, offering up a daily diet of scandal and deception, it feels more important than ever to stay true to my values.  It’s forced me to question why I feel so let down by public figures from whom I expected better.  It’s challenged me to look within, acknowledging and embracing the reasons why I continue to expect so much of myself. It begins with childhood but, at some point, we each take control of our destiny and must own our choices.  

    A winding coastal road, with mountains to the left and the sea to the right.

    I know I haven’t always made life easy for myself.   Rarely so.  It took me a long time to find my niche, to feel comfortable in my own skin.  I know I could’ve made other choices.  Couldn’t we all?  But I made choices that were right for me, even if that meant I took the longer route to get to where I wanted to be.  Half of it was chance, as it is for most of us I think.  I had no idea, really, what I wanted to do or be as I left school.  I just knew I needed to do it my way and I have.  

    In a world where everything feels unhinged, I’ll admit that I’m still showing up as a safe pair of hands.  It feels necessary, if only to and for myself. 

    the longest roadDownload

  • How one woman’s passion inspired others to fight for theirs … 

    "... on sigriðarstigur
    I wonder at my legacy 
    such as it is 
    I’ve been a leader of people 
    driven by my values 
    remaining true 
    to who I’m meant to be ..."

    As I’m heading home from my trip, I’m ever conscious that there’s an obvious reason this feels different than other homecomings.  For the first time since my student days, this has felt like a trip rather than a holiday.  I won’t be heading back into the office on my return, as I have done so many times previously.  

    I can’t deny that my job has been a huge part of my life and my identity for three decades, and yet I’m reluctant to say that it defined me; I don’t think it ever did.  I’ve known people who have been so invested in their professional roles that they can’t let go.  I’m not one to judge, and maintaining links with your old firm, or working in a similar role beyond retirement, clearly works for many people.  But for me, retiring is about starting a brand new chapter.  I’m looking forward to having time to do other things that interest me (such as this blog!), to learn new skills and explore parts of the world I haven’t yet visited. 

    Which brings me to this week’s poem, which is based on the true story of an Icelandic woman who wouldn’t give up.  She fought all her life to prevent a mighty waterfall, partly owned by her family, from being exploited for financial gain.  Her father was tricked into selling the lease and she supported him in fighting a legal battle, which they ultimately lost.  Despite the courts going against them, Gullfoss was left intact, because the new owners failed to honour the terms of the sale.  

    close up image of water flowing at a slow speed over rocks

    But that’s not the part that really inspired me.  What inspired me most about Sigriður Tómasdóttir was her tenacity and her absolute passion for nature.  She was determined that the waterfall be allowed to flow freely as it had always done.  Not only that, her courage to stand up to officials inspired others within Iceland to respect nature on their doorstep.  They began to appreciate nature for what it was, rather than what we might make it.  As a result, many refer to Sigriður as Iceland’s first environmentalist.

    This fight for her beloved waterfall was her life’s work.  She was skilled in many other ways, but it was her commitment to Gullfoss’s cause, that defined her.  I don’t think she would ever have let it go.  It made me wonder what, if anything, would I hold onto because I cared so deeply.  If not my professional role, then what? 

    I guess it boils down to the same thing that undoubtedly drove Sigriður: values.  It was my values that determined the job I did and how I did it.  It’s those same values that influence how I interact with others, and how I live my life.  Perhaps that’s why I found it easy to let go of my professional role because the foundations on which it was built continue to shape me. 

    I wonder how aware Sigriður was of her legacy?  She would’ve had no idea that a monument would be built to honour her at Gullfoss, and a walkway named after her.  Do any of us truly appreciate our impact on others?  My ex-boss used to quote Maya Angelou to her workforce on a regular basis:  “people will forget what you did and said, but they won’t forget the way you made them feel”.  

    I did my best, on many occasions, not so much to impose my values on my team but to impart advice that was rooted in what I believed for myself.  I trust they listened at least some of the time.  I believe they did, and I watched them thrive with pride.  The foundations have been set and that’s as much as I can do.  I hope they will continue to thrive, which is also my hope for you. May the thing that you hold on to, whatever it is, bring you joy. 

    sigridarstigurDownload