A Critical Question

Like a lot of L&D professionals, I subscribe to e-zines. The result is an inbox that is seldom empty. Sometimes the emails contain little of interest; other times they contain useful tools or pose thought-provoking questions.

Today I received an email containing a link to the following article. It's a brief post that barely brushes the surface of a critical question for today's Learning & Development professional.

Here's the link:

Can Learning Keep Up With the Needs of Business

Poppies

94 years ago today, the Great War came to an end. Life in Canada went back to normal, or as normal as things can get when a small nation loses over sixty thousand dead and suffers even more wounded. The country attempted to return to a sense of normal in the years and decades that followed, until an even greater war broke out in 1939, followed by a brutal war on the Korean pennisula, smaller conflicts that fell under the guise of "peacekeeping" even when there was no peace to keep, and our own contemporary war in Afghanistan.

Ever since the firing ceased in 1918, the poppy has served as a symbol for remembering the sacrifices of the combatant. Whether it was inspired by the great Canadian First World War poem In Flanders' Fields, or whether it was the result of a natural association between the poppy and opiates which bring the sleep that serves as a metaphor for death, the days leading up to Remembrance Day are awash in a sea of poppies.

In a way, it is fitting that the poppy serves this role. It is a link between the First World War, where poppies grew between the crosses in Flanders' fields, and Afghanistan, where drug lords harvest them to make drugs to sell to the rest of the world.

Autumn

After an extended summer, autumn has officially arrived in my neck of Ontario. The days are still sunny and even warm, but the nights are getting cooler, the rains are colder, the daylight hours grow shorter. The change of seasons is a natural, even beautiful, thing, but it is always tinged with sadness.

Autum is not without its charms. The leaves are changing colours on the trees. The geese are flying in honking vee formations in the twilight sky. The pumpkins are turning orange on the vine. The evening air is crisp and refreshing.

It is a sad time, but it is good.

A Technicality

I realized earlier today that I am technically between jobs. Friday I left a job I had held for nearly five years, and I don't start the new position until tomorrow morning.

Departure (D-3)

The long to-do list from last week has now been whittled down to three remaining tasks. My calendar has  three meetings booked. The surface of my desk is almost supernaturally empty.

It is really odd talking about projects today with people I will probably never see again after Friday, but that's the way it is.

Departure (D-4)

I have not blogged for a while.

In part, this absence has been because of summer vacation. In part, it is because I was in the midst of job interviews. In part, it is because I have been busy trying to get all my outstanding projects completed so that it is a clean transition.

I have been so busy that I have been able to avoid the emotions that come from leaving colleagues I have worked with for almost five years. But now, as the to-do list gets whittled down, the emotions are starting to creep in.

It's going to be a rough week.

My Alibi

I try to get in to work by 6:30 on Fridays. It gives me a precious extra hour or so to get work done without interruptions so that I can leave at a decent time in the afternoon.

I try to get in to work by 6:30, but yesterday I didn't get in until 7:00, even though I got up at my regular time. Luckily, I got a good photo of the culprit that kept me from getting into work on time:

Northern Griot, Urban Sharecropper: Part 5

I'm happy to say that the garden is finally starting to bear fruits and vegetables. It is still a bit early for the tomatoes -- the bushes are loaded but the fruits are still green -- but the first crop of peppers has been harvested (and eaten).

Northern Griot, Urban Sharecropper: Part 4 (or Garden Pride)

My balcony garden is growing quite well, helped no doubt by the summer-like temperatures we have been having for the past 6 weeks. The hot temperatures are causing one small problem -- all my zucchini flowers are males, which means I may not end up with fruit despite the many flowers. It looks like the bars on Church Street are not the only all-male environment during this Pride Week.

Happy Pride Weekend, Toronto

The rainbow flag is floating high over City Hall, even if the mayor did not attend the flag raising ceremony.

Have a safe and happy Pride weekend.

Northern Griot, Urban Sharecropper: Part 3

My balcony garden is coming along quite nicely, even if my blogging has fallen behind. Although you cannot see it in these photos, there are tomatos, peppers, and even cucumbers developing. If I could grow an olive tree I would be able to create an entirely home grown Greek salad.

On Winning

Someone asked me recently whether it is better to win or to do your best. It's an old question, I know, but it never ceases to get me thinking. As usual, the original question led to a whole lot of additional questions:

• Is it truly winning if you didn't do your best?
• If you truly did your best, does it matter if you won?
• If you lose and didn't try your best, is it worse than if you gave it your all but still wound up in last place?
• Did you win if you were the Most Valuable Player on the last place team?

Everybody has to answer these questions for themselves. As for me, here's my take on winning:

The goal in life is to win honourably and elegantly.

If that's not possible, the goal is to win honourably.

If that's not possibly, you haven't really won.

My Own Private Paris

Last Friday I had a nice telephone conversation with a good friend of mine with whom I had lost touch. A lot has changed since our last conversation -- most notably a move to France with his family -- but we easily slipped back into a free-wheeling exchange that touched on art and politics and culture and philosophy.
I loved listening to him talk about what is like living in Paris, and in a small way I envied him. The baguettes sound heavenly. So do the field trips to the Louvre that his daughter takes. (No visits to pig farms or the kitchen of the local McDonald's for her.) The good thing about envy, though, is that it often passes.

The fact is that I love Toronto and I love its rhythm, especially on summer-like days like today. In a quick lunch hour walk I saw a world of interesting people: a street preacher in a wife-beater t-shirt harranging pedestrians; a busker playing his bagpipes while tourists filmed him on their camera phones; young black men trying to get passers-by to buy a copy of their Black History newsletter; double-decker buses filled with visitors to the city; an outdoor yoga class held in Dundas Square; an army of attractive young women handing out sample granola bars on one side of Yonge while a smaller group of attractive young women handed out information about Ontario tourist destinations; and throngs of people happily meandering down the sidewalk.

It may not be Paree, but it's home.

Northern Griot, Urban Sharecropper: Part 2

Upon reflection, I realize that calling myself an urban farmer is not exactly accurate. After all, my container garden is on someone else's balcony, not my own. I get the use of the sunny exposure and they get a share of whatever vegetables and herbs I grow.

Anyhow, this is the end result of the afternoon's labours:

Northern Griot, Urban Farmer: Part 1

Spring is here, so it's time to start my container garden again. I usually grow a variety of tomatoes, peppers, and herbs. This year I am also trying my hand at zucchini.

As you can see, there's a lot of ground to cover, so to speak.

Music Critics, or a Tale of Two Buskers

As often as possible, I try to take a lunch hour walk. It is a chance to get some fresh air, exercise a bit, and recharge for the afternoon's business. It is also an excellent opportunity for some people watching.

Thursday is an excellent case in point. In forty short minutes I saw a man wearing elf ears and a Pinocchio nose riding a bike, a klezmer band on the corner of a busy intersection, and numerous young ladies dressing as if it were August. The most entertaining thing I saw, however, involved a baby and a busker.

It happened on Queen Street. A mother was pushing a stroller a little bit ahead of me when a street busker started playing a piece of classical guitar music. All of a sudden her baby sat up in the stroller and turned her head towards the musician. She was obviously mesmerised so her mother turned the stroller around and took her daughter to watch the busker for a little while.

On Friday, I was walking up Bay Street. A different busker started playing his instrument just as a mother was passing with a stroller. The busker let out a fearsome drone on his bagpipes. The baby in the stroller sat up and ... screamed.

The Sound of Summer

Summer does not officially arrive for another month-and-a-half, but today I heard the sound that to me indicates that summer has arrived. That's right -- today I heard the music of an ice cream truck as it patrolled the cul-de-sacs and crescents around my apartment building.

Quantum Confusion

Despite my most fervent wishes, I have never been particularly gifted when it comes to physics. Oh, I understand Newtonian physics well enough, but get Einstein involved and it's all just chalk hieroglyphics on a green slate wall. Take it a step further to quantum mechanics and I'm perpetually gobsmacked. All of which makes my current choice of reading material a bit odd, to say the least.

I am currently working my way through physicist Brian Greene's latest book. As the title suggests,  The Hidden Reality: Parallel Universes and the Deep Laws of the Cosmos explores various theories concerning the nature of the universe. Or should I say, "the nature of the universes"? So far we have looked at a patchwork quilt of universes, infinite numbers of bubble universes, quantum fields, and a whole bunch of other stuff I don't understand, and I'm only at the chapter that discusses string theory! There are still seven chapters that address other aspects of the "multiverse".

It's hard going, but I can take comfort in one thing. If I understand Professor Greene correctly, there may be other universes out there which contain alternative versions of this world. That means that somewhere there is a version of me on another world in another universe who actually understands this stuff.

The Hidden Reality: Parallel Universes and the Deep Laws of the Cosmos
Brian Green
ISBN 978-0-307-26563-0

Trying Don't Get It Done

I just got done watching one of my all-time favourite training movies: The Cowboys. As you can probably tell from the name, it's a western. In my opinion, it is one of the gems in John Wayne's career -- it's right up there with She Wore a Yellow River, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Hondo, and The Searchers. Unlike those fine films, however, the cast of The Cowboys largely consists of boys.

There are a number of reasons why I love this movie, but one scene in particular stands out. In fact, it is so memorable that I have incorporated it into my philosophy of life. The scene takes place as the boys attempt to herd cattle across a river. One of the lads falls into the river and struggles not to drown. His companion on the shore attempts to raise the alarm, but fails to do so because he stutters.

After the first boy is rescued, John Wayne turns to the stutterer and provides him with some instant feedback. "You know you almost got him killed?" he demands. The youngster replies, "I t-t-tried ..." only to be cut off with one of the most important lines ever uttered in a western movie:

"Trying don't get it done!"

I used to show this scene in a leadership program I facilitated. The discussions which followed inevitably turned into debates between those who thought John Wayne was too harsh on Stuttering Bob and those who thought he made a valid point. You can count me amongst the latter.

I will be the first to agree that trying matters, but it isn't enough. It's not enough to merely try in business and it's not enough to merely try in life. The lesson that I have taken from The Cowboys is pretty simple:

"Effort matters -- but so do results."

Everything, Something, or Nothing

I just finished reading a book called Everyone Communicates, Few Connect by John C. Maxwell. As the title suggests, the focus of the book was on communicating in a way that connects with others. The book included a number of useful suggestions for improving the way you with individuals, groups, and audiences, but one idea really grabbed my attention:

"If you wait until you can do everything for everybody, instead of something for somebody, you'll end up not doing anything for anybody."

It's a simple idea, but an important one, and it seems particularly relevant to me in light of the organizational transformation that my company is currently undergoing. When stakes are high -- and stakes are always high when connecting with others is concerned -- the important thing is to get something done each and every day.

The Value of Silence

It's been nearly a month since my last blog entry. Back when I kept my first blog (silentgriot.blogspot.com), I tried to publish a new post every day. Some days I published multiple posts. This time around, I am not so obsessed with daily posts.

It isn't that I haven't thought about anything - this time of the year always seems to be a time of great reflection for me - it's just that I haven't had anything to say. I guess I have come to recognize the value of silence.

It is almost a cliché to say that we live in a time of information overload. It doesn't matter where we are or what we are doing or even what time it is - we are constantly riding an avalanche of data that threatens to carry us away. Not that we mind. We accept that communication is meant to be instantaneous. We embrace the ubiquity of the messages. We believe we have the right, and maybe even the responsibility, to add our voices to the collective din that is our wired world.

The only problem is that there is more to communication than simply sending out a message. Communication is an exchange of messages between different parties. That's how ideas get shared. That's how relationships get built. That's how problems get solved. It's an exchange of messages, and that exchange requires us to talk sometimes and at other times to listen.

I guess for the last month I've been content to listen.