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Motorcycle city May 12, 2011

Posted by Liz Mead in : Into the new space , add a comment

It took me two days to succumb.

After arriving in Ho Chi Minh City on Monday evening, getting my first experience of the tsumani like peak-hour traffic, I started to understand this exhilarated feeling was more than culture-shock, it was love at first sight.

Yes, our first comment when arriving in Vietnam is ALWAYS !! about the traffic, and I am no different. I wanted to get in it – crossing it, on top of it,  never under it, getting amongst it. So last night I did – courtesy of my dear friend Q. On the back of her motorbike, smiling at families or three or four perched on the bike next to me, surrounded by honking horns from trucks, cars, other bikes, across District 1 to District 10 for school and dinner, then back on a millionaire tour of the centre of Saigon (Dist 1) by night. Worth millions! unrepeatable.

Things that have stuck so far –   the energy, the need for steely calm courage when crossing the road, the friendly gentleness and (though I’m sure it doesn’t happen to everyone and I certainly deserve it!) the  teasing and humour of the people.

All in all I’m loving it

The 10 sec sound byte March 13, 2011

Posted by Liz Mead in : Matters Blue , add a comment

My boss and I made an expressive wall.

One day we decided to capture on post-it notes every common expression we used during the day, whether it was a hand-me-down from our parents, or our own perennial favourites.

By 5.00 that afternoon, the wall was covered in post-it notes; some contributed to by others in the team, but mostly the work of our own hyperactive ADHD, Cafeine addled brains. During the day a minute couldn’t pass before there was another expression spat out and posted.

And as we progressed through our Forest Gump moments of wisdom, life was less like a chocolate box and more like a audio track of 10second sound bytes. Which I must say, fits with my take on the corporate world, move fast, get in and out fast,  out and on to the next.

My boss, I have to say, is brilliant at the art of the 10 sec sound byte. Her ”elevator pitch gives you vertigo! She has to be. She’s distilled it down to the moment where reasonably sensible exchanges of information can happen in under a minute.

She was so enamoured of our making things explicit, she believes there’s a book in it. But to quote our sage like wall “As if”! 

Not a book …. but in 10 seconds – a blog post for sure.

Sticky matters February 7, 2011

Posted by Liz Mead in : Matters Yellow , add a comment

Spiders weave webs. Duh!

They do so in order to eat. Their  process,  though, results in a work of art.

The Navajo Indians believed that  mother spider created the world by teaching people how to weave. So industry is good. Work – if it’s useful  - should be productive and may if artful, inspire others.

OK – enough of  Spiders 1.0.1.!

Why am I seeing them everywhere in Brisbane Qld?  Strung out each morning up in the electrical and phone wires. Thankfully the spiders are high enough up that I can easily avoid walking through their web.

One web  of wire , that I pass each morning,   is parallel to a damp wall of rampant greenery. And mesmerised I look up each morning to see a galaxy of star-shaped hunters. Instead of food – they boast only a harvest of luscious droplets – a legacy of this  relentless rainy season.

There they are.  Light on food, but  strung out,  literally, drunk on the previous evening’s downpour

These dudes are arguably some of the award winning architects of the insect world these sticky artists never  get stuck in their own work and web. Apparently, the fine lines of a web are  different. Some are sticky some are not –and it’s a matter of figuring the way out from the time you start to weave.

They ought have patented this exit strategy (given the web motif that provides a sustainable  analogy for the way we now communicate in the world). Twitter would have done well to induct contributors with a similarstrategy.

I’m in a buzzing industry of paid work – weaving tricks with much younger men and women who spin words like deadlines, churning outputs and delivery.  And like the spiders,  this new environment is  highly industrious, ambitiously diligent and  not inclined to waste time, laugh and certainly not get stuck on the sticky. Gone is the day when just being in a conversation – really being there – is considered worthwhile.

So as the one true architect of my life, perhaps the plethora of spiders is providing a refresher course in relative harvests, staying limber and free and not getting stuck on the sticky bits of industry. Work hard – for sure, but hey the web will soon or later get walked through.  

And inevitably by someone who isn’t paying attention!

Now that’s cool.

Vineyards on Australia Day January 27, 2011

Posted by Liz Mead in : Into the new space , add a comment

I took a trip yesterday down memory lane and onto new territory at the same time.

I’m living in Qld for a while and when the national public holiday we celebrate as Australia Day appeared in the Calendar, my path was clear.

The day is characterised by hazy hot weather, parks full of picnicking families, cool fast trains and crowds of young sun-dusted teenagers with miniature flags date stamped on their cheeks.

My destination was Nerang situated on the Gold Coast, I was met by a wonderful friend Mary who I haven’t seen for years. Together we drove up across Mt Tambourine, dotted with tiny Bed and Breakfasts, stalls for fruit and vegetables (mostly empty because of recent floods and the fact that owners were probably at celebrations of their own), nurseries and glimpses of the valleys all around.

We dropped into the award winning remarkable TMD Distillery where hand-painted coloured glass bottles capture magical essences like Lemoncello, Lilly-Pilly (pink) Gin and St Alushka –a herbal liqueur made from 50 herbs and spices. Our trip then ended in the Canungra Valley at a vineyard owned and managed by the O’Reilly family – but still proudly known as a community vineyard, given that the first vines were planted by the small and close knit community.

 The delights of the day were manifold. The memories and conversation were rich. The tastes exquisite. After all there were years to catch up on, and a myriad of changes in the personal and geographic landscape to acknowledge.

My closing thought is that days like this allow friends to come together and talk, eat, play and laugh. Whether they are two girlfriends giggling at the cute boy crowded next to them on the train. A cool gang of matching girls and boys, bronzed skin, dark sunglasses, shorts, t-shirts and i-pod jewellery dangling from their ears. Or old friends – 20 years on – who pick up where they left off, across a bottle of sparkling Red called “Karma”, on a sun-drenched hazy day in a vineyard planted with love.

Uprooting and annual tally. December 30, 2010

Posted by Liz Mead in : Into the new space , 1 comment so far

I’m off on an adventure.

Woo hoo!

An adventure into a new working environment, studying new content  forging new connections, seeking new information, making new friends.

After all these years I’ve finally found an opening that suited the time, place and intent. The intention I have is to move on and up and out. Not in any significant career development -  rather back to the place I left 20 years ago.

My father had died suddenly and I came back to family responsibilities, and made my life and home back closer to the family and place of origin. I’ve lived well and long here – it’s time to uproot.

Now I can go back and finish what I started. I’m keen to see how the place has changed and how much I have changed as well.

My first task in this new frontier will be to learn a new language. Ironically I’ve just spent the last 6 month learning an educational TESOL language. Am I using it – of course not. My new adventure is into the financial sector. Say what?! Am I really becoming Barbara the bank manager?

My workplace buddy – whom I’m replacing - informed me it took her three months to get on top of the lingo and business content. That doesn’t bode well for me and my 10 week contract. What’s the bet – I get on top of it – and it’s time to go.

I have a theory: you always have to repot if you want to keep growing.

Looking back at the year – it’s been a good one.

Ergo – I changed.

What, however does woo hoo mean?

Gold on the water seers aplenty November 24, 2010

Posted by Liz Mead in : Sunrises , add a comment

There’s gold on the river outside my home.

Sometimes its yellow gold sometimes white.

It hits the water at about 5.45 am when the rising sun hits the metal and glass on the houses at the river’s edge.

It’s a visual feast that sustains me and sets the tone for the day. The continually moving vision begins as a dense tablet or block of gold poking up from the  glassy surfaces of the water. Then as the water regains its breath, as if some mighty hammer broke it, the gold begins to break up into shards and fragments, like smashed glass or mosaic. It’s as if a thousand  fragments form as the River Cat shakes up the water. Then as if a master craftsperson was at work – each tiny jewel becomes a knotted thread forming the pattern of  a magic carpet floating on the water.  Then the crafted hand of light slowly slides beneath the carpet and unrolls it to display its beauty for traders in an ancient bazaar.

Then a  minute later  it’s gone. Just dull brass, then brown, then nothing, just the green blue water again. And all the time this golden feast of the eyes lasts about 15 minutes. I notice it in late spring, something perhaps to do with when the sun rises and the temperature or  atmosphere and how it affects the morning light. 

On the weekend my girlfriend Linda showed me slides of their Syrian trip and the city of Palmyra

 The city is called the bride of the desert, shimmering in gold it welcomed caravans into the bazaar and souks, trading gold, jewels, carpets, spices and power, seducing them with sweetness. Once a splendid centre of trade and power, the city temples, pillars, roads and houses are now pinkish white stone tablets in the desert, echoes of stories and footprints thousands of years old.

Like all good bloggers, trying to tie a knot in the thread of my story, I googled Palmyra and gold,  sure that Linda had called it the golden city.

Instead I came up with a reference to Palmyra New York outside of which Joseph Smith Jr, Prophet and the founder of the Mormon church uncovered golden tablets – inscribed with the teachings  for his new church. Smith’s  followers believe he was a seer.

Well that wasn’t expected!

All I can tell you  is that a couple of years ago, my own favourite  seer and psychic asked me who was going to the Middle East because she saw a golden City in the desert. At the time, I thought it was my own journey to Dubai but clearly now I stand corrected and humbled  in the presence and prescience of seers, gold and a vision splendid.

Whether on water or on sand – take time to watch the sunrise and celebrate the art of story.

Pulling up the tree November 7, 2010

Posted by Liz Mead in : Into the new space , 1 comment so far

I’ve been given a metaphor. Getting rooted.

Not in the way you think. Or if you’re Australian in the way you ought to or used to think. No tnis getting rooted should be considered in the literal sense, as in a tree root.

Ironically, I’m trying to pull myself free of old habits, 20 year homes, 12 year jobs, 50 odd year patterns. Yet the trick is to be centred and rooted to the moment.

My wonderful galpal Rosie calls it “blooming where you’re planted”. More than just making the best of something – she believes we’re in the moment because we’re in the moment. It is what is – so live it and celebrate.

My current fantasy is to uproot and invest in a new place, a new job a new home, closer to family, an investment for the future…. so many ifs though.

My own dad’s anniversary is coming up. He died in his 50s. As we’re all now navigating our 50’s we’ve got bets on who might succumb to the genetic weakness .. if any of us will?

In the meantime – each of my weekends is spent in the best seat of the house, overlooking the water, completing assignments and wondering if this bloody course will ever finish!

I contemplate leaving this view, uprooting to build another home in another place. I do it because I yearn for something new. I do it because I yearn to create another living space. And I do it, I guess, because I may have a genetic disposition that encourages an “act now” strategy over a “let’s wait and see” one.

The art of living in the now means though that we root ourselves where we are – in order to uproot when the time comes. If we’re not rooted in the now – we’ll miss the signs of growth and opportunity – shiftless, groundless, not belonging.

You have to belong to let go.

Everyone’s leaving October 13, 2010

Posted by Liz Mead in : Into the new space , add a comment

Don’t know if you’ve ever experienced a mass exodus. But that’s what’s happening to me. ‘cept I’m not gone.

For the last three years, on some level, I’ve been trying to leave (home, job, yes now and then even contemplating …) but I’m still here, and everyone else has managed to secure the fabulous job that should have come to me or the wonderful reduncancy that made sense of my staying put in one job for ALLLLLL THOSE YEARS!!

An analyst would put it down to my abandonment issues. Sigh.

I’ve tried healings, CV coaches, agencies, seek.com. career.one, card readings, dream intepretation, prayer, bribery and to no avail. I’m stuck.

I’m finally booked in for my practicum teaching. And I’m hoping the delay in finding the perfect job is because I have to finish one thing at a time! Which in this case is the crazy idea that I could teach in my old age.

Ageing and change is natural and good. It better be, it’s the only constant in life. It actually doesn’t matter if its what you want or not – it’s going to happen anyway.  

I’ve just got to figure out how to work with it – not agin it

Week 20 – luv-yeh-bayb! September 25, 2010

Posted by Liz Mead in : TESOL , add a comment

Captain’s Log: As I write this last page of the Log I must admit - I’m moved. Yes, this crusty old sea captain is quite chuffed that we made it this far. 20 weeks ago when we set sail for the Isle of Tesol to  see what happened, I didn’t think I’d make it.  Now I’m here - I have to say it is a relief to be off the churning seas.  Strange for a sea captain to write this – but I feel quite comfy on dry land .   The locals are friendly and all in all I’m quite optimistic. It’s been a rewarding  journey. My crew have been splendid, brave and resourceful. Even the Harbour Master proved to be a sweetie.  So it’s Captain L signing off  in fine bristol fashion with a warm wish to all who sail the high seas. Track the stars, trust the winds and keep your seaman able. …..Pass the Kava luv – I thirst.

Yes – Lectures have finally finished – thank the Lord!

I have my nights back again! No more trudging over to the other side of the city. I’ll probably waste those night, even though I have a huuuuuuuge assignment to complete. Let’s see shall we.

My class mates all seem to be having lots of fun with Prac. I hope I do to.

I shall miss them:

  1. R’s poker face (yes that’s a compliment:)
  2. I’s boldness
  3. S’s concerns
  4. M’s – reliable startup contributions
  5. D’s continual out of the box position
  6. M’s delightful  nature
  7. P’s subtle style
  8. Ji’s gorgeousness
  9. V’s clever “context” answers
  10. D’s hilarious stories
  11. N’s commitment to grammar :)
  12. C’s love of pink or was that coral?
  13. B’s last minute assignment submissions
  14. Q’s incisive comments
  15. M’s delight at being called  ‘teacher”

A final thank you to the fabulous Teachers – D, S and S.

What more is there to say – “Love ya babe!!”  All of you :)

Week 19 – Shall we use flares? September 17, 2010

Posted by Liz Mead in : TESOL , add a comment

Captain’s Log:  A couple of rascals have taken off  in the lifeboat with the last of our supplies-apparently  for the purposes of trade!  I understand them trading food, clothing, even inflatable rafts – but flares? These  Islanders seem in need of nothing.   Funny, now that we’re safely  docked in harbour, I  can finally let go of those emergency supplies. What would I need with flares? I haven’t used them on the entire  journey of 19 weeks-  I hardly think I’ll need them now.  Unless ….Note to self – fireworks celebration??? On a more serious note.. I have sent reports back to the Royal Society, promising my final paper on the journey.  Banks and Darwin better brace themselves.

It’s the penultimate week of the course. 

Yes, the practicum is still to come. But it won’t be recorded on this blog.  

Last night I looked at my exhausted crew of peers.    It seemed to me, we are all completely done and dusted . Yet,  there is still one major assignment to go.

Either to distract us or dazzle us, our teacher delivered her instructions by pulling, pushing, flicking and scrambling through a virtual slide show on the smart (aka white) board .

S’s interaction with the technology became almost a cabaret act. When she wasn’t zooming into a significant summary on needs analysis she was zooming out to the full screen sequence of course design. We were giddy with the process.

Not so ironically, this activity paralleled what we would have to do for the assignment. 

From an overall course design of 100 hours of teaching we would need to zoom in and deliver a  set of 3 micro lesson plans. The course could be on any topic or theme to suit an imaginary lower intermediate class of mixed age, gender, culture, educational background and aspirations.

Despite the fact that S’s demonstration was amusing, hearing about our last assignment seemed to take the last bit of wind out of our sails.  Our lifeboat supplies of learner profile, ideas, brainstorms, prompts and data  including no less than Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs  just made our head spin!  Abe’s pyramid is making no sense to me. I”m not sure if the end of this TESOL journey is self actualisation or just survival?

Has anyone got a flare gun?