And so it ends, the year of going back to 'normal'

Another year, thankful for it I think.  The year we thought we would go back to normal.  And so it was for a while, like when a car engine stutters but keeps running.  

Things have definitely changed at work and education, if not in how we relate to each other.  We could say, with some evidence, that we are now more careful and understanding.  We know that if things do not happen, there might be a reason.  And if we still do not understand, then we can all say "because of Covid".

Normality does not look like it used to be.  Even in a classroom with students, I feel that care is now paramount.  Our brains might be elsewhere as we are now allowed to check social media more than before.  Maybe it is because we are being part of different universes that were supposed to keep us afloat.  Or maybe it is because education has also gone hybrid, allowing for face to face and online interactions.  Welcome to the physical classroom those who cannot be here but can connect online, for whatever reason.  

Welcome also our desire to spend more time elsewhere, dreaming of trips that did not happen, or staying at home with loved ones for more time than before.  Welcome busier life in cafes or shopping malls.  Welcome a new attic or room in the house, hosting parents and children alike.  Welcome those meetings that we still "go" to, welcome the presence that in many cases we can shape, and in others the one we are shaped by.  

Welcome to life with viruses and absences, curfews and defiance, standards and values we drop whilst we create new ones.  Welcome creativity to a new scenario, where we would need to be valued by just maintaining things we value and not succumbing in the attempt.  Perhaps we were asking too much of ourselves, our work and our planet.  Perhaps we were deluded thinking that that was what we needed to do in order to prove our worth or just live our lives.  

Our new normal is far from certain, and this is something that perhaps we are not used to accept.  We still have some opportunities to shape it.  And if that does not motivate us enough for next year, let us think of what we have so far, what we have been able to do despite everything. Let us think of what we can do every day, from waking up to taking a shower or just go out for a walk.  Let us think of people who depend on us, and people we depend on.  We all deserve a new normal, more humane and caring, less busy or pretentious.   

And so it ends...

A translation of concerns from and to Colombia

I have been very fortunate to be part of a short project that was developed in collaboration with Universidad de Ibague, Colombia, and Royal Holloway (my current employer in the UK).  

The project aimed at identifying issues recently experienced by two communities in the region of Tolima, giving them the opportunity to represent and reflect on these issues using photos and videos.  

Their testimonials are very moving.  With the help of artists and designers, community participants were able to communicate snippets of their daily lives.  Presenting these to others in their localities also gave the latter a sense of rediscovering who they are and what they do, something that was also made possible due to their experiences of being in lock-down during the year 2021. 

I was particularly impressed by the amount of work and dedication put by people.  One could get the feeling that this project was very important for them, and that they did their best.  They taught me how important it is to develop trust between collaborators and how we need to let other ideas inform our projects.  I 

There are several possibilities to move forward and continue helping these communities.  From my perspective, as researchers in the developed world we need to be able to translate these and other communities concerns in what we think are global issues.  Post-conflict and violence, rural marginalisation and lack of representation could be some of the themes that we could start to translate from and to these communities: some of these happen in the UK, only by different names.  

In the developed world, there is concern with climate change and corona viruses.  Communities know about these, and have adapted as best as they can to deal with them.  Our translations need to include a better understanding of communities' creativity and what has positively emerged.   

If we could accept that there is much to learn between all of us, perhaps our world would not be as chaotic as we think it is.  

Thank you all for being part of this project, and for inviting me.  

Messages of and about eco-anxiety

The Cop26 meeting is now about to finish.  There are many important lessons that all of us as individuals could grasp, some of them clearer than others.  What follows is my own take on what has happened. I present my own messages of and about eco-anxiety.

At work, we have been encouraged to present what we have been doing (teaching, research, engagement with the community) to better understand the complexities of climate change.  During this summer me and some students decided to explore how our campus is currently dealing with food waste.   We were fortunate to be supported by other academics and a manager of an anaerobic digestion company.  It has been a very helpful exercise for learning to talk to them and also to interact with campus managers in different areas like accommodation services and food production.  

As a result, students prepared and delivered a great presentation where a key message was that we need to better recycle food as well as prevent its potential waste.  How we carry this out could then be divided into two aspects:  

• Increase the value that we attribute to food recycling via better messaging, support processes and awareness
• Adopt new technologies like anaerobic digestion or AD.  

Tackling both of the above requires working on promoting a cultural if not behavioural change in our attitudes to waste and specifically to food.  

During the presentation the audience was very receptive and open to the ideas we were presenting.  One aspect that surfaced to be further considered is that how feedback about the need to generate cultural and behavioural awareness needs to be continuous and at all levels of academic and administrative activity in our campus.  Technologies like AD or those to better support better food waste monitoring (weighting, data analytics) as well as recycling are already available.  Why is it that only a few university campuses in countries like the UK are doing something about food?  

It seems to me that the higher level resolutions and agreements of Cop26 by governments need to be both reflected and challenged by local actions from universities, councils and private companies working together.  This is something that again requires a cultural mind shift from management of these organisations.  

Perhaps more importantly we all need to acknowledge that so far the desire to do something about climate change and doing it now is generating more anxiety than awareness.  Myself I had to slow down in my work and let students and the company manager carry on because I was feeling overwhelmed with so many messages from the media.  

Eco-anxiety is not only an individual but also a collective 'illness'.  During summer of 2021 I started to feel that any change about climate change is going to be slow and has to be concerted: it is difficult to mediate between parties that have different views about what needs to be done.  Every step has to be reflected upon and negotiated.  

This despite what many organisations have already in their strategic plans of achieving net-zero by a certain date.  It is also true that some actions are going to produce more impacts than others (i.e. not flying is more impactful than buying or using electric transport).  So perhaps it would be more important to assess and agree on these actions collectively.  And to establish ways of incorporating our conversations about such actions into strategic plans.  This could also help us all to deal with our own eco-anxieties.  

Creativity and risk taking - Finding your Element by Sir Ken Robinson (RIP)

I am about to finish reading Ken Robinson's "Finding your Element" book.This year of 2021 I have given myself time to think about my vocation.  This book has been very helpful to let me understand myself a bit more.  It has useful exercises to get the reader to think about talents, aptitudes,  attitudes,  passions and other aspects of our personality.   It encourages reflection and self honesty about things we really want to do and are good at, even if we are to learn them fro  scratch.   

I studied computer science and systems engineering as it was the right thing to do at the time.  During my degree I learned how to program computers, and also to type and write bit more academically. I graduated and went to work on software development, process analyses and software selection.  

But something was off.  I could not really be happy knowing that there were politics when it came to work with technology users, consultants or software providers.  I left a technology career behind and studied systems thinking.  I found myself telling my research supervisor that I wanted a life change.  

Ken Robinson talks about taking risks when we feel that something is off.  In his book he gives lots of examples of people who changed careers, went to live in unexpected places, created businesses or simply turned away from what they were supposed to do in life.  To many of these people, comfort signalled a need to move on and engage in what they thought was 'next'.  

Robinson encourages people to take risks, given that life is uncertain and far from linear.  Taking risks promises that we can all start living more genuinely according to our Element(s) (where passions and talents meet).  In my own case, I took a bit of risk by getting into debt to pay for my systems thinking studies. I got the backing of my twin sister that acted as a financial guarantor of a scholarship loan I was awarded.  I will be always thankful to her, to my mum, my sister Clara, my other siblings and people who I encountered throughout.  

Thanks to life I keep encountering help. My guarantors have helped me to start a new life and to maintain it when things were not going well.  Graduating from a PhD with no job on sight and in another country was a challenge I did not foresee: the funny thing was that even getting a funded post-doc was seen as an alien thing by them.  This lack of approval affected my mental health and it took some years of counselling to accept that being a researcher was what I wanted to do, despite my previous technology education, my loyalty to loved ones, my anxiety of not being good enough, or my conservative attitude to life (and risk).  

I agree with Robinson that life is full of risks.  But I now find myself questioning if when taking them we are to involve our loved ones to act as 'guarantors' (the ones picking up the bill if things go wrong).   It is worth pursuing one's own passions.  But at what cost?  And for whom And? And if finding one's Element is not a linear process that could also involving 'going back' according to Robinson, why the rush?  Why do we have to do things now?  Why the 'now or never' attitude? 

As I pose these questions, maybe I am also learning to accept that in our lives there will be always things that are 'off' and that there will be times when we need to live with such things: I am now living with anxiety and that is OK.  I did live with problems as we all do.  I cannot fully blame my taking of risks for my anxiety although I would say there is a fine line between taking a risk and becoming a neurotic (my therapist's favourite term).   In Robinson's account of finding one's Element, there does not seem to be any choice but to pursue it (with guarantors, debts and anxieties involved).  Even of that involves small steps. The issue becomes: "do something!".  It reminds me of a wrong thing to say when one is mentally ill:"man up, get over it!". 

To this choiceless invitation,  one my psychotherapists would say something similar: There is no other choice but to be truthful to oneself and professional, so that we measure more carefully what we aim for.  There are some anxieties we can live with, and there are others we cannot.  And there is no shame in not being able to develop a 'thick skin' about anxieties as Robinson's examples seem to suggest.   

Both Robinson and my therapist will acknowledge that some form of 'guarantor' is needed.  Lucky if we are able to have them I think.  Maybe we need to ask for true help in our lives.  Help that tell us what risks are worth taking or when to take them.  

So what could be next? 

Out of these ideas and also echoing what Gabor Mate says to his younger self, my creative one would say:   "Worry, but not too much.  There is no need to pursue perfection.  Young or old, time is on your side"

And as I finish Robinson's book and review some of its ideas, I find myself feeling grateful for this year of 2021.  I can say that I am not yet sure what my Element is.  It has to do with connecting people to learning opportunities.  It also has to do with slowing down and saying no to things I can do but do not really want to.  There might not be big risks yet for me on this.  And time is still on my side.  

So what could be next for me?  Let people do things bit more, let me do bit more of aside art and writing, let me do more walking or swimming if not cycling.  Time is on my side I think! 

And for you?  

  

Navigating through a climate change field

 Our world is now witnessing a global summit to talk about climate change.  Some of us have also decided to contribute to it by organising and running local activities.  At my workplace, we have a full agenda that involves students and businesses.  

For me this was going well until I started to feel what some people call eco-anxiety.  I do not like big gatherings or feeling that I am out of place.  Talking about how we need to do something now and urgently to save our planet got to me in a bad way.  Because to my mind I have been doing things.

From buying and using an electric bike to changing our old family car to one that does not emit too much carbon dioxide to refurbishing our house loft with foam insulation to reducing my car travelling to eating less meat to working with students on looking at how campus food can be better managed, I now feel that somehow this is not 'enough'.  My perfectionist self has kicked again on the face of so much information.  

Perhaps a better way of framing what I feel and think is to say that climate change is a very complex thing and that we are still learning how to do things.  It would be better to be more aware that we are also part of complex systems whose direction(s) are the result of many individual actions.  At the moment, there are some parts of such systems which I find difficult to navigate with, possibly because they are entrenched in their own and radical views about what needs to be done now.  

We need to gain more awareness and continue doing things.  But for me I need to take a small break from all this talk on climate change and breathe.  Maybe take a back seat and let things unfold.    It would be good to listen to what goes on and share what we have learned or what we could be doing differently in our lives or work.  

But not at my own expense.  

Good to see each other

 This week I met some work colleagues for the first time in more than 18 months.  

The atmosphere was great.  People chatting with each other, as if it was Christmas! 

The atmosphere felt different.  And we went back to old conversations.  As if nothing had happened...

As human beings we need some sort of social interaction.  Just to keep us more tuned with each other at work for example.  Or to allow us to catch up with what goes on.  It was telling for me how I missed it, and how we make things happen.  We have computers, mobile tablets or phones, but there is no substitute for the face-to-face conversation I think.  Even if we have got bit older, we still recognise each other by how we speak, look or listen.  

And I could not help but crack a couple of jokes.  I was not the only one!  

The limits of kindness

Monday morning in one of my favourite cafes.  Writing bits of a new book chapter.  A flurry of emails to look at.  Some things to do before they become too big to attend.  A longing, a desire to be with people.  

2013.  Me and my twins.  Trying to survive.  Stepping in for a colleague who needed urgent treatment.  I cover for him, and another colleague who found it difficult to teach the postgraduates.  I was kind at the time.  Early waking up.  My wife was kind to me and the children.  We made it.  

2021. One email gets my attention: we need to cover for a colleague; another one does not want to teach software use.  Yes, we are all busy.  But why is it that some who are in the digital world (or at least they say they are) do not want to learn about new tools, let alone share with others? 

I say no.  In my own ways.  

2020-2021.  We have all survived lock-downs and challenges in the last few years.  Kindness has helped.  But there are limits to kindness.  

If anything, lock-down (s) have taught me that we all need support.  But it is not fair to continue relying on the same people who give it and the same people who ask for it.  This forces us to be creative, I will give you that.  But there are ethical limits to how creative we can be. 

It might be good to limit our kindness.  Not with a view that we cannot do anything new.  But rather to be responsible with our energy and to also teach others what we think is important in our lives.  

Rituals for moving on, others are hard to let go of

My book writing is progressing, slowly.  Today I am mixing it up with writing this blog post.  

Summer time is now spent with family and preparing for more returns to 'normality'.  

One of my bosses recently said that the world has moved and cannot wait for us to take a breath or slow down.  In the food chain of education, other institutions or governments decide what needs to happen, and we follow suit.  Not much of this has really changed, except perhaps that we are bit more allowed to work remotely. 

Yes, it is time to move on, but also it is hard to let go of other things, I am finding.  

Human beings need some sort of structure, I heard recently.  We had to set up routines during lock-downs, and we had to start giving them meaning.  Some of them have become rituals.  Things to keep us afloat, to help us navigate the world. Myself, I am now doing some Pilates and short running.  I also have gone back to my cafe writing.  And I have planted new flowers in my garden.  

If you ask me why I do these things, well, they help me keep a good mood.  And the more I do them, the less I need to explain or justify them to myself or other people.  I am preparing for the winter.  

Finding hard to let go of driving to work, to email people to express my worries, to become silent or isolated when not feeling very well.  My ritual of self-berating or catastrophic thinking is still here: it does not have much more meaning anymore, but I grew up using it to cope with my circumstances.  Why is it hard to let go of?  

Maybe it is because I fear that if I let it go, I will not be appreciated, I will not succeed, I will not be loved.  A hard thought I think, A thought that allowed me to survive and to 'move on', a thought that can fuel many of our desires to act, or to live.

But then I will have to disagree with my boss.  I do not need to move on, not at least based on fear of approval.  My morning ritual has started to include gratitude for just being alive, and for reassuring myself that whatever life throws at us, we will be OK.  

Rituals of authenticity

My new book project is about the inclusion of ritual iin creativity.

At times it feels as if I am rehearsing previous arguments on the importance of letting creativity take its course in our lives.  At other times though, it feels as if something 'magical' is going to happen.

Today I am at a cafe, writing this, and thinking how I need certain rituals to inspire my creativity.  This is not my idea.  The choreographer Tharp (2006) talks about morning rituals of waking up, taking a taxi and arriving at a studio, warming up and then letting practice take over.  

My rituals of writing are now becoming both routinely predictable and unique.  I sometimes wake up with the urge to write something (like today).  I perform my ritual of arriving at the cafe, setting the computer up, starting to sip an espresso and then opening a document or two.  Then the brain takes over.  I want to write something that lingers in the mind in abstract form.  I want to put it there, make sure that it links somehow with what I wrote before.  I stop.  I go for a walk or sit on a bench.  Tomorrow or the day after I know I will change a bit of this routine.  Maybe I still do not see myself as pursuing my own authenticity.  

My drawing is taking a similar path.  Arriving at a studio, listening to the teacher, and then wanting to put something on paper.  Doing so, correcting, and then perfecting. Experiencing anxiety when not seeing at least some clear, understandable or basic form or written ideas.  Deleting.  Moving.  Re-drawing (rewriting).  Forgetting to breathe.  Starting to think I am a failure.  Stopping and breathing.  

I think the path goes back to my old days of software coding...long sitting and typing hours, not wanting to give up (there was peer pressure and the belief I was part of an engineering elite). Short bouts of sleeping.  Compiling.  Running.  Detecting bugs.  Commenting with peers.  Starting again (asking myself: what is the purpose of this piece of code?).  Seeing how finally a piece did (not) work.  Moving on.  The life clock accumulates miles, as my car.  

Perhaps these activities and thoughts are also unique.  We as creative individuals tend to think that what makes us authentic is the final product, rather than the process we go through.  We adopt certain patterns or routines.  Mixed with thoughts or beliefs about ourselves, we carry on.  The rest of life disappears from the view of time.  

And we become so used to see our rituals as 'normal'. 

 

The return of coffee mornings

 So here I am again in one of my favourite cafes.  

Sitting, typing, listening to what goes on.  Trying to fight the desire to write the right sentences or paragraphs for a new book project.  

Many people including me are now practising the language of 'coffeeing'.  We order exciting if not exotic things.  And we do it in a louder voice.  

It is inevitable not to draw comparisons between how we used to come here.  Before the world pandemic, myself I rushed to type things that were already on my notes.  I could spend hours here.  I felt there was not much outside I wanted to do.  

Today, I am longing to finish this, to walk around, to breathe, or maybe sit outside and type in a more relaxed manner.  

People are louder, things are flourishing again, and so am I.  

The inertia that we do not need

Last few weeks, many discussions about what is to be the new normal, in management education and elsewhere.

There is no final answer really, but we all take part in these discussions, maybe out of fear of not being listened to in the run to making decisions.

The inertia that we do not need is a desire to cling to certain assumptions and ways of doing things that we fear losing, all in a rush.  In management education, this includes keeping control of students and classrooms, now via sophisticated systems to monitor attendance and to ensure that whoever does not do what they are supposed to do is noticed.

Elsewhere we still want our children to attend school, to be active and part of sports or arts activities.  We cannot see any other way to keep them learning and socialising.  The inertia here is to cling to old routines, those that allowed parents to get to work and have some respite.  There is also inertia not to cross boundaries.  We all know what home schooling has meant.  Many of us do not want to go back to it again.

And we still keep some rituals that we have inherited during last year.  Some remote working, exercise, small socialising (in my case), online shopping. Better sleep, or at least better attempts.    These gives us a sense of security, much needed in the face of new and unknown uncertainties.  

In all of this, the question still remains:  What inertia do we still need?  What don't we?    

Our moral compasses are changing.  What used to be our automatic reactions about the right thing to do could become now a moral dilemma.  Should we go to work to our offices?  Should we go out?  Could we sustain online interactions as substitutes of offline ones?  For how long? 

We still need some inertia to keep things going, but it would be important to regard it as temporary.  And the same could be said about change.  

Technologies have given us possibilities to keep things going, but this does not mean that either those things are right in their own way, or that we need to change them completely.  

My take for now about inertia?  If it starts to feel too heavy, we might need to change it.  

As if nothing has happened

End of February 2021 in the UK.  Spring is at the doorstep and vaccinations are taking place in several countries.  There is a general feeling that we are soon getting back to normal.  My twins’ school is about to reopen and I am looking forward to this, I also want to have some space to myself! 

It would be easy to forget what has happened in the last year and to focus on ‘catching up’ with family, friends, work, holidays or anything else.  Myself,  have been doing some reading and writing for what I think is going to be my next book.  I have tried hard also to seek alternative hobbies or career possibilities.  I have now exhausted myself.  Luckily I have people around me that keep telling me to slow down. There is no need for the rush. I was supposed to go easy on myself during this new lockdown!

Anyway, I think that part of my problem is that I somehow want to forget about 2020 and to carry on as if nothing had happened.  This is a normal reaction to adverse events.  Only that if we take another look at what went on, we could also rescue some positives.  And then accept that we are to move on, with this awareness.

Some of us would want to cling to helpful habits that we have acquired.  Paradoxically in my case, I have learned to do some things slowly.  Waking up and having breakfast, getting ready for the day whilst having a nice chat with my wife has been really good.  We talk about science fiction or comics, the mangas that she is reading, novelties about our twins or my ideas about how crazy and un predictable creativity is.  We also vent out our frustrations and worries.  And then we start working or homeschooling.  For me it has become a realisation that it is not possible to do everything on a single day, or do it very well.  My praise to my twins teachers, they do an amazing job, all things considered.  

I would love to get back to my office on campus,  with a view to enjoy the physical surroundings.  I would love to do less there.  I used to spend a great deal of time there, wandering between the office and the cafes or the shop, feeling that I needed to be there and with a fear of wasting my time.  Now, I think can still do my work and would love to stop on the way for a coffee in nearby towns, or strolling for a walk as I used to do some times.  

We just have to be grateful to be alive, to have some energy to carry out during our days, to have loved ones.  Yes, we are now living differently and more carefully.  But we can still live.  Slowly but surely.  Who wouldn’t want to do that?  

Pandemic presence

The lockdowns in our societies have helped bring to the surface how we as human beings think of ourselves as present. Virtual and other technologies have helped us to maintain a degree of presence at work and with geographically distant family.  

I wonder if we have changed our image, what we say or do when being remotely present, and how we have managed our physical presence when it comes to going some places or just talking or doing stuff at home.  

Myself I had not thought of the above as I assumed that I was the same individual when interacting with others.  I was aware of the (mindful) importance to be fully present (easier said than done).  The first lockdown was a retreat to finish writing my latest book and some research articles, and a preparation of educational resources for my job.  I think I maintained presence in my circles, showing myself up at times.  There were nice conversations with old friends that I had not seen for a good while.  And with of course my close relatives.  At times I was also absent minded:  the writing, the preparations, the anxiety, the frustration.  

After this first lockdown ended, I noticed I was missing my coffee meetings with myself (for writing) and with my friend Adrian.  I was also missing meeting my well-being group.  We kept the meetings virtual.   And when the first opportunity came I socially-distant met with these people.  It was good to finally catch up.  

And with second and third lockdowns, I am now thinking that I need their presence somehow, and that I want but often cannot really be present as I would like to.  Work and home schooling make busy and draining days.  

Presence is now a challenge.  Or is it not?  Maybe I am still present, but not in the way I would like to.  It is one thing to talk or listen to my students online (most of whom do not show themselves and only listen), or to have virtual work meetings (in which we follow an agenda and occasionally we joke).  And it is another thing to feel we are ‘there’ in a common space, that we are ‘there’ now, fully engaged, feeding from each other, communing with each other.  

Maybe we would need to accept that presence means both of these things.  That we are and we are not present.  That one cannot be with the other.  

We are all trying to be present, perhaps we just need to be less demanding of what we want to achieve.  

A test for other viruses

This new year brings more testing, and not necessarily for COVID-19.

Having lived through several lockdowns and uncertainties, it might be time for us to test ourselves on how well aligned are our values to what we do at work and elsewhere.

It might be that our self-defensive habits have taken over, leading us to strongly protect some imaginaries like our own images of ourselves or others.  

Or our 'nostalgic' pictures of what the world was or needs to become ('normal' again?).   

And in the process, we might have adopted thoughts or behaviours that keep us ‘safe’ from the scrutiny of others and the world in general.  We could also have developed other habits or adopted thoughts which we considered very alien, and are now part of who we think we are.  

Myself, I considered that I am now more of a facilitator of learning than a traditional lecturer, although I still keep some habits in and outside the classroom.  My values of dedication and commitment remain, for good or bad. I have adopted my teaching material to suit more shorter events and also use of other online resources from publishers.  And I still aim to propose creative assignments to my students, teaching face-to-face whenever required.  

So I do not think I have been afraid of change, only that I have somehow changed at my own pace (not too fast, not too slow). There are costs. I feel drained at the end of the week.  Maybe I have tried to hard to instil enthusiasm in myself and my students. Perfection, again. 

Perfection, an old habit, and also, I have adopted some unhelpful thoughts:  “There is no body else that can do what I do; If I don’t do this the world comes to an end.  I am here to right all the wrongs encountered; everyone should be committed to help students, and if not I must intervene. It is the pandemic “. 

Some of these thoughts align with my values of dedication and commitment.  But others don’t.  I appointed myself to be a saviour, when colleagues are also paid to do their job.  I value time with family and time for thinking too.  I cannot right all the wrongs or help everyone that comes my way.  It is really not possible.  

What else do I value?  

• Contact with nature
• Health
• Self-care
• Collegiate support
• Curiosity
• Simplicity
• Reflection 
• Honesty
• Time to do nothing.  

Time to reshuffle priorities, and test myself again, with compassion.  

And what about you? Is your job misaligning with your values, creating fake thoughts or unhelpful habits?