Suvarnabhumi Airport 6am

Travelling without my husband

One of my colleagues: 'Yoga in Thailand... Are you going without your husband then?'
Me: 'Yes, I am.'

I liked her assumption and didn't feel a need to clarify my marital state. And it's true. I am going without my husband. Unless he is there waiting for me.

It's time

Sunscreen, sunglasses and sarongs. Add flip-flops and clothes I can hardly believe it will be warm enough to wear right now, a pile of books, a diary to support reflection and packing is almost done. The big question is: computer or no computer? Decisions, decisions. Fourteen hours to take off.

Koh Ngai sabbatical - or at least a short version of it

Hibernation

I wonder if two to three months' hibernation per year means we (habitants in the north) get a longer life. Otherwise it's a very high price to live here. I mean we loose out on one sixth of the year when the standard of life digress to anti-social hiding activities. Hiding from cold weather, hiding from darkness, hiding from spontaneous socialising and hiding from anything requiring too much energy as our batteries ran flat sometime during the recovery process from New Year's Eve and there have been zero recharging possibilities since then.

It's tough. And it makes people cold.

So may be we should stop pretending 'we can do it' and take a yearly sabbatical just like the migratory birds.

I start with ten days in Thailand.

Lowlight, highlight and surprise

Today's lowlight: Miscommunication, no communication and bad communication with more than one colleague. I need a break. May be it's me? In which case I definitely need a break to remove myself from more communication lowlights.

Today's highlight: Mysore class with favourite teacher. The snow chaos probably scared a few yogis and yoginis off so we were a small group of three. Almost a private lesson.

What else? I learned that I will struggle to travel incognito to Thailand. My boss will be on the same flight (both ways). There will be more than one row between us (and probably curtains and possibly doors), of that I'm sure. And I don't think he will be travelling with a yoga mat in his cabin luggage, but who knows.

Exception

I forgot. Shitty day had an exception in the shape of a message from the switchboard this morning: 'Happy Name Day!'

Very sweet and something that had slipped my mind completely. So I'm not upset with everybody who hasn't remembered. It's a nice tradition really. To celebrate a name. Something you were given with love and careful consideration. As opposed to age that just happens. But of course, celebration of any kind is always positive and welcome.

Cheers!

Shitty day

Really shitty. Could describe it in numbers or in words, but I'd rather not. I'd rather just forget about it and focus on something more positive. Like an escape to the moon? Or to Thailand. I'm counting the hours. 86 to be more precise. Felt sorry for my coach who had to listen to my negative rambling for 1.5 h this afternoon.

The unpleasant minus eighteen outside doesn't really help.

What happened to "choose your attitude", "inner calm", and "everything is just the way it should be right now"? Well, right now it feels pretty distant to be honest. So I guess my challenge is to accept that too. Shit.

First time in New York

A little girl who lives at the Plaza Hotel. Eloise, a souvenir from my first trip to New York, aged twelve. An amazing father - daughter trip and one of many reasons I fell in love with New York. I sat behind Joey Tempest on the plane over, we (my dad and I, not Joey) stayed at the Plaza and I had breakfast on a silver trolley each morning watching cartoons. I was being looked after by a sweet lady from the Swedish church while my dad was working and the evenings were spent on different Broadway shows. Of course it was fantastic.

I have a serious metropolitan deficit. Combined with a domestic neverending clearing out and organising need. Eloise escaped both the storage room and the charity boxes.

I have a friend

He is gorgeous. We have known each other for ten or so years. We went bar hopping with nothing but champagne on the menu. I had almost forgotten how energising and rewarding it can be to be out with a male friend.

The occasions seem to be very rare these days. Another reason for missing London. May be I'm just being nostalgic. Or may be I'm missing my late twenties and early thirties.

London love

This is one of my favourite views. Travelling in a London cab from the south bank crossing Westminster Bridge, heading towards Kensington. I miss London. It's always the same. Give it six to eight weeks since the last visit and I have the same longing feeling that something vital is missing. And it is.

Not sure when I will go back, but until then I have to make do with 'Midsomer Murders', chicken curry and red wine. As close as I can get to an Indian take out and the Queen's English.

Green, red and dark brown

Broccoli. Red wine. Rooibus tea. Dark chocolate à la 71% cacao. More than double the recommended daily intake of antioxidants I'm sure.

Scribbles from something much bigger

A delicious meal. A room filled with the unspoken experience of four women. A soft flowing conversation full of passion and concerns. So much hope and conviction, but in the presence of life's biggest fears. Still left with a feeling of energising positivity.

A memorable Tuesday evening at Sweetest M's.

Talking to myself

How do we talk to ourselves? Most likely the conversation in our heads revolves around fears, complaints and mindless repetition of old stuff that we can't change anyway. At least that's what kept me awake when I couldn't go back to sleep at three this morning.

Today I was reminded that if we were to talk in this way to another human being, we would first of all have to apologise and secondly we would probably not have anyone to talk to for very long. Who wants to listen to this? Yet, we expose ourselves to it every single day. Thoughts from the past and worries about the future do no create good conversation.

So I've decided to have more interesting conversations with myself and see what response I get.

Spring in mind

Trackrecord Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day. All Hearts' Day. I can't say I'm a big fan, but nevertheless I have a couple of memorable Valentine's Day incidents.

The perfect present. When I was twentyfour or so I got a drill from my then fiancé. I don't even think I was upset about the complete lack of romance the drill represented. May be a repression that turned into an embellishment, but the memory stuck in my mind is filled with laughing, warmth and mutual agreement that this was the perfect present.

The most beautiful roses. I was probably twentynine, I don't think I had turned thirty. Working from home in my pretty little flat in Kensington the doorbell went. Very unusual on a weekday when nobody would expect me to be at home. A courier with the most beautiful red roses I've ever seen. And a message: 'This is just one of the many tools in my toolbox.' A guy I was seeing on friendly terms that I all of a sudden realised thought we were more than friends. Hasty retreat from my side followed by my being blacklisted forever in his books.

The crash. Thirtyfive and stuck in my views and opinions. My lack of respect for what Valentine's represented to my then boyfriend, followed by a desperate feeling of unwillingness to understand each other's viewpoints. It was more important to prove a point. A hopeless argument where we pointed fingers and turned and twisted words ("You said, I heard, I said, That is not what I meant, How could it not mean..."). We lost all prospects of ever having any romance associated with Valentine's...

My track record for Valentine's Day seems to leave some room for improvement.

Very soft workout

Got to the gym ready for a proper workout on the treadmill, ready to start project 'Removal of soft waist protection', alias comfort weight. So I thought. Once I got out of heavy winter gear I realised I had left my trainers back home. A subliminal message from the subconscious that the treadmill was a bad idea? Or maybe just my own lazy negligence... Anyway, no running on the treadmill, but instead a brisk walk. Well well.

Patience part 2

Patience part 1: Wise words that I didn't invent but that I subscribe to. And had to copy not to forget.

Patience part 2: Beige days. Days when you struggle to find the point. Days in transit to something else. Or days that are there to make special days special because if all days were special they would all be beige.Or something.

It's like seasons and the reasons I appreciate sunny spring days so much is because they are limited. As are the frosty, clear winter days.

The charm of change and scarcity really.

Patience part 1

Patience teaches you not to push but rather to wait and appreciate the game of life instead, knowing that nothing remains the same, and everything will change at some point.

To be continued.

Boss of boss's son

Salary negotiations with my boss' son. Not my salary, his. But still awkward. Result? I asked for a second round before putting my foot down...

Prepping

Adlibris for the books. H&M for the soft cotton summer clothes. Some sunscreen and I'm almost done stocking up on the few necessities needed. Counting the days to takeoff with destination Koh Ngai. My whole body is craving for this holiday.

Did I really sing this?

Walking like a man, hitting like a hammer, she's a juvenile scam, never was a quitter, tasty like a raindrop...
And so on. Complete mystery lyrics. To Roxette's "The Look".

Nobody seemed to mind when happily singing a long to a bunch of randomly selected phrases put together purely based on words with syllibals matching the desired rhythm (confirmed by the songwriter). Or as Per Gessle said in the same interview not so long ago - the lyrics are surrealistic in a cool kind of way. And would never have been written by a native English speaker.

The unique use of language only available to somebody who is a non-native speaker.

Lesson learned: keep your personal touch and use it freely for any second (third or fourth) language you speak (or write).

Cold, food and a potential new career

Work had to do without me and the plan was to stay in a horisontal position for most of the day nursing the first cold of the year.

After a defrosted freezer and some very well organised wardrobes I can conclude that my plan didn't really work. Anyway, a horisontal position and a blocked nose don't really match so now I have a lot of sneezing and snivelling in my freezer - I figure it will all die in there eventually.

One thing that doesn't die in the freezer however is the listeria bacteria in salmon. Useful information if you are pregnant (which I'm not)... Finding food that is a) nutritious b) fresh c) without additives and d) without lethal bacteria is becoming more and more difficult. Sometimes I think I should move to the countryside and start my own ecological farming.

Dinner with Beautiful J

It was like Ten little Niggers or the more politically correct title that I just learned: Then there were none. The dinner party ended up with just the two of us.

Well into the third bottle of wine we started talking about old boyfriends and their characteristics. Is there an obvious pattern in my relationship history?

Just like my CV I can probably make it up in hindsight and make it sound very logical and well thought through. In reality I guess the one thing they have in common is me.

There is at least one major difference between a CV and a boyfriend in that I don't think anyone searches for a lifetime employement, but when it comes to boyfriend/husband/partner we still search for a lifetime relationship.

Lunch with E

18 year's or so have passed but she looked just the same. May be slightly more sophisticated, but it was still the same smile, the same bright eyes, the feeling of presence and famililarity.

We met during our college years through a mutual friend who I haven't seen since. This friend was going through some tough times back then and E told me that somehow it just continued.

We talked about this. The fact that some people seem to always end up on the wrong side or have more difficult times than others. Unfortunate illnesses or injuries, addictions, unhealthy relationships and a never ending escaping from bosses or friends who just don't understand. Why is it that some people seem to be more unlucky than others?

We both grew up in stable and loving families and we couldn't agree more on the fact that our lifes are imprinted by our childhood. How our parents provide us with unconditional love and safety from day one. How we are allowed to be children. How we can take our parents for granted. The obvious feeling of belonging and being rooted. A safe harbour that is always open and available.

E is a fantastic person and friend. In addition to her own three children, she is also the extra mum for one of her friend's daughters and welcome her into a safe harbour whenever she needs it. It was so inspiring to meet her again and I'm full of admiration. And may be a little bit jelous.

Weekend treat

My two slipper friends

Once again I praise myself for having slipper friends. One evening with Beautiful J and the next with Sweetest M. The closeness is not just in distance but also in dialogue and understanding. To land in a friend's open arms and to find the soothing acceptance and mutual gratefulness. It's there in big and small, in dreams and reality. Precious.

Someone I will never ever date

From monster meeting with search consultant to coffee with blind date. Conclusion: we will not meet again either.

After one hour I excuse myself and say that I need to move on. He asks where/why/how (?!) and when I quickly make up the answers as it would be rude to say "actually I don't know, I just know I have to leave", the how ends up being by bus. He then insists on walking me to the bus stop a fair walk from the coffee place. God, I felt like I was being escorted to make sure I wasn't going anywhere else than to the bus which would take me to the place I said I was going to.

Seems to be the day of unsuccessful meetings!

Somone I will never ever work with

Without any expectations but yet curious I went to meet with the search consultant who called me the other day about a potentially interesting role.

Fifteen minutes into the meeting I stopped him when the meeting appeared more like a sales pitch, where I was the client looking to buy his search and recruitment services (?!), than an interview for the role in question.

With a firm "Thank you, but let's move on from your revenue model and your view on how to identify candidates for your clients to the role you asked me to come here about..." We already hit it off on bad terms. I was almost ready to actually leave the meeting.

He starts asking me the usual questions and I start answering to explain more about the twists and turns in my CV. Half way through my answer on why I moved abroad and what I learned from it, he starts telling me about his own experience from working abroad and someone he once worked with who was also interested in leadership development. And she is today the best leadership consultant he can think of...

As if this wasn't enough he asks me later on in the interview why our managers come to me when they need to prepare for a difficult conversation with an employee, for example in preparation for making someone redundant. I look at him and wonder if I have really understood the question. He continues: "Well, I have HR people calling me asking those kind of questions as they don't know how to discuss this with their managers." I have no idea what he is getting at and frankly, at this point I really couldn't care less.

Conclusion: the job in question was definitely not for me. And the headhunter (even more worrying, he was also the MD and presumably the most experienced consultant of them all) will never ever be allowed anywhere near our recruitment process.

(His conclusion of me when I asked: among other things he thought I was unafraid, clear and direct, to the point where I was confrontational...)

Talent reserve

A new favourite word of mine. From today's seminar focusing on diversity in business: talent reserve. A very positive way of expressing a rather big issue.

There is a massive unutilised reserve of talent just waiting to be put to work. But we are too narrow minded to spot the opportunites as we are set in our beliefs that being Swedish is a comparative advantage.

But it's just a question of one more generation and this will be a no-question. At least when it comes to utilising the talent reserve found in diverse nationalities.

When it comes to each individual's talent reserve and how we personally choose to deploy it, I think it's a completely different matter. But that would be another seminar.

Life in play dough

Imagine play dough.

Imagine a handfull of children having a go at making an ant-hill from it, but half way through they get bored and stop. The table is full of play dough torn into the smallest pieces just waiting to be merged into the final piece.

Now imagine someone walking by (mum/dad/nanny?) who in a tyding up attempt complete the merger of play dough pieces into one big unit, mixed colours and probably including one or two pieces with a different origin than the original play dough.

A feeling of completeness and diversity in union in some sort of organised chaos. And the feeling of relief.

Malmö Airport

Even less activity here than at Gothenburg airport but at least there is tax free shopping for domestic flights. So once again I've convinced myself that a new anti-wrinkle cream will do wonders.