The week between Christmas and the New Year often takes on an ‘other-worldly’ quality. Retreat and introspection are bundled soporifically between festive book ends. The world slows down creating space for reflection. 

This kind of benign introspection doesn't take much effort. It would be easy to discount festive downtime as 'cerebral idling'. But it serves an important role in creating distance and bringing perspective to our otherwise hectic lives.  

For those committed to life-long learning, reflection plays an important role. Margaret Wheatley sums it up in her customary no-nonsense manner:

 

“Without reflection, we go blindly on our way, creating more unintended consequences and failing to achieve anything useful”. 

 

One of the earliest transitions we make in life is starting school. A much heralded change in a young person’s life. Can you remember how you experienced that transition? I can. I ran towards the school entrance with little more than a backward glance. I was following in the footsteps of an older brother and sister you see. It was a rite of passage. One that I was quite determined to traverse (according to my mother!).   Many patterns are established in childhood Leaving school was similar. I moved on with a sense of adventure. This sense of life being an adventure has stayed with me. Always curious to explore what’s around the next corner…. An example of how patterns established in childhood have an influence on how we approach similar challenges in later life. Of course not all patterns are as positive and some have their shadow side. Always wanting to...

  The transition to the New Year always creates a desire to take stock….where am I now in relation to what I wanted to achieve last year? This year is no different. Although, in one way, it’s completely different. It’s the first New Year without my dad. He died on 2nd February last year so we’re approaching the first anniversary of his death.   It starts with family  Dad enjoyed marking the transition to the New Year especially when surrounded by his family. He invariably made a speech at midnight and encouraged others to do the same. It created a strong sense of being fully seen and heard. As if your personhood was being authenticated. In my younger years the evening meal (tea-time in our house) was a time when the family gathered around the table and shared a story from their day. After me and my siblings left home, and returned for holidays,...