A Mountain to Climb

Do you ever get those times when it feels that life is like climbing a mountain? With the run up to Christmas I can feel like this and have you noticed just when you think you've done it all, there's always a little bit more before you make it to the summit?  Two weekends ago, my family and I climbed a mountain in Bali with a group of friends and as I trudged my way upwards, the analogy came to mind that  life can sometimes feels like climbing a mountain.   As we climb, our incessant self talk says 'how much longer?';  'what it will be like in the next stage?'; 'can it get any worse?'; 'will I ever get there?'; 'I wish I was already there'; 'how come those other people are higher than us?' and in everyday life we can talk to ourselves like this too.

Early on the Saturday morning when I was preparing for our expedition into the mountains, I found myself doing the usual frenzied dash around the house sucking up all sorts of bits and pieces in my reach, like a supersonic vacuum cleaner that had gone out of control, while the rest of the family calmly 'hung out' until I was ready. How come they don't think about the practical things like toilet roll, tissues, toothpaste, towels etc, not to mention the water and snacks for the journey?!  My husband casually strolled over to me handing over his toothbrush and a couple of tee-shirts, proud of having done his bit to help with the packing and optimistically announced "let's go in the jeep." All else that he had to do was turn the ignition key. The sweat was dripping off my forehead and I was steaming like an overheated radiator. The last thing I wanted to do was ride in a hot jeep.

I preferred the easy option of jumping into our air conditioned car and know that we would arrive safely at our destination without breaking down. Although, at the same time, I was tempted by the thought of being adventurous in the jeep, but I knew that first we had to fight our way across the heavily traffic infested capital city of Bali, Denpasar - nightmare. My husband eagerly jumped into the jeep before I had time to debate our mode of transport. He attempted to start it but there was only a slight coughing response and then nothing. Secretly, I hoped that it wouldn't start at all and we'd have to take the easy option, but after the sixth attempt, it roared like a lion. My fete was decided. I had to re-pack all our luggage so that it was waterproof because when it rains, as it frequently does in the mountains, we can't rely on the jeep to keep our belongings dry!

After a long two hour struggle of nose to tail traffic through the bustling, noisy city, we made it to the cooler mountains. Even my teenage daughter with her teenage friends blasting out teenage music in the back of the jeep didn't faze me. As we drove in convoy, it was good to be moving after being stuck in hot, sweaty and dusty Denpasar for so long.

Finally, we relaxed at our hostel before our big climb the next day. As what can be typical for a Mum, my relaxation was short-lived. My 6 year old daughter's trainers were wet, so I put them out in the sun to dry.  They were drying nicely when suddenly we had a tropical rainstorm.  Having forgotten completely about them, while I was happily sheltering from the rain, my daughter asked me, "Mummy should my shoes be out in the rain like that?"  I ran outside to rescue them but it was too late - they were absolutely drenched, so was I and she wouldn't be wearing her trainers for climbing.

The next day when we were starting out on our ascent, my daughter curiously asked, "Mummy why does everybody else have trainers or boots when I only have my flip-flops?"

Searching for something motivating to say, I noticed that our Balinese guide only had flip-flops on - he also had no teeth when he smiled but this was beside the point.

"Our guide has flip-flops on, if he can do it, you can do it too." I asserted encouragingly, noting the fact to myself that he most probably scaled up and down this mountain at least on a daily basis.

It was a challenge climbing a mountain with a 6 year old, who happened to be the youngest in the group and who spent most of her time slipping back down the mountain rather than up because her flip-flops had no grip. What seemed like every few seconds, my daughter asked, "are we nearly there yet?" alternating with, "I can't do this," to 'how much further?" My patience was running out but having endured so much to get to the mountains in the first place, I was determined to make it to the top.

Not knowing how much further, how much more difficult, when or if we were going to make it, we eventually reached a point where there was a little stone temple surrounded by a low wall - the Balinese see the mountains as very sacred and have temples to mark each stage of the mountain as well as at the top. We could climb no further.  We had made it.  The view was breathtaking. It was worth the struggle.

My daughter was so proud of her victory, she estatically ran all the way down the mountain barefoot because her flip-flops were slowing her down! She was one of the first to arrive at the bottom.  Her face beamed with delight and now she knows she can conquer anything.

In life too, it's good to push ourselves a little further and not give in to limiting self talk.  As Edmund Hilary, the first to successfully climb Mount Everest said:-


"It's not the mountain we conquer but ourselves."



Keep on climbing those mountains and conquering yourself.

Janet

Think Outside the Box

I was recently reminded in Singapore, how we can become set in our ways and fail to think outside the box. While walking from the Central Business District area to my office in China Town, I stopped at a pretty looking cake shop to buy some cakes to celebrate one of our team member's birthdays. I couldn't believe my luck, just as I was thinking of what I ideally wanted, as if by magic, the perfect shop appeared. The beautiful silver boxes with silky blue ribbon stacked up high to the ceiling and the most enticing bite sized cakes were just what I pictured.   

I was so pleased with my find, as this meant I didn't have to search all over Singapore in my high heels (I'd much prefer my comfy Bali flip flops, not quite the right 'corporare' perception though).  I proudly re-assured myself that this wonderful stroke of luck happened because I had made a mental note of what I wanted and so it was on my radar.  Now this is true, I wouldn't normally notice a pretty little cake shop - well not unless the cakes looked totally irresistible -   and if I hadn't thought of it, there would have been no cakes for us at our team meeting.  As in life, we have to think of what we want to make it happen.


Excitedly, I counted out on my fingers the number of cakes I needed for my team and informed the young Asian shop assistant that I wanted an assortment of seven cakes. The conversation went along these lines:-

"Much cheaper you buy nine cakes," barked the assistant at me.

I looked at the sign that showed the prices and even with my slow mental maths ability worked out that it was cheaper to buy seven as opposed to nine cakes, so I replied, "No it isn't. I have to spend more to buy nine cakes."

"Cheaper per cake you buy nine," she retorted.


"Well yes, cheaper per cake, but I only want seven cakes and seven cakes are cheaper than nine, so I'll buy seven," I retorted back, chuffed with myself that I hadn't given in to this marketing gimmic and besides who in my team would have the remaining two cakes if I bought nine?!

While counting out and pointing to which cakes I wanted from the glass cabinet, I had my eye on the silver boxes which would make the cakes look even more presentable. My enthusiasm was soon short lived when the assisant proceeded to stuff my cakes into a little plastic container, that appeared from below the counter.

"Could you put the cakes in one of those boxes?" I politely enquired, eagerly pointing to the much prettier boxes, "It's for a birthday," I added expectantly. 

"Cannot," snapped the assistant. This somewhat curt remark is referred to as 'Singlish' - a combination of English and Singaporean - either it 'can' or 'cannot' with nothing before the verb.


"So, how can I have a box?" I asked, wondering if the boxes were put on display just to lure in innocent passersby.

"You buy nine cakes."


"Ok I'll buy nine cakes," I capitulated, knowing that it would be no good fighting my case or raising my voice because a rule had been set and this woman was going to stick to the rules.  

As I walked back to my office, I couldn't help think if that were me, I would have said 'go on then' and given a box away for somebody's birthday. This little episdode provided me with a great analogy of thinking outside the box. The following quotes sum up what 'thinking outside the box' can do for us:- 


"Always think outside the box and embrace opportunities that appear, wherever they might be." Lakshmi Mittal

"Traditional thinking is all about 'what is'. Future thinking will also need to be about what can be." Edward de Bono


What can you do to think outside the box? What opportunities could appear if you were to do this more? Rather than 'what is', what can be?


Enjoy!



Janet

Out of Routine

Do you ever those weeks, days or months or maybe a life that is totally chaotic? Have you noticed what happens to you when you get out of routine? I personally become quite grumpy, especially when I have no time to think or I don't have some 'me' time.  I know that 'me' time is beneficial for us and even a routine has certain benefits but I've reminded myself recently, that although I was a reluctant at first, it was good for me to get out of routine.

The first event was when I had to rush to Hong Kong to run our 2 day 'PowerPresenting' programme with a group of investment bankers.  You may be thinking, what's the problem with that? There's no problem at all. I love presenting training and I love Hong Kong, but the workshop was confirmed with two day's notice and my week was already sorted. So my perfectly planned week became total chaos to fit in a four day trip to Hong Kong. Regardless, I turned around everything at last minute and really enjoyed being out of my routine.

The second event that quickly snapped me out of my routine was my return to Bali when I had visitors from all directions and different circles arriving before me because of the knock-on effect of flying back from Hong Kong.  As soon as I hit the ground in Bali I went straight into a late dinner catching up with friends, followed by running back to the airport the next day to pick up friends and some more friends arriving later in the week, followed by some more friends coming to dinner early in the following week. My children were on school holidays and their friends were visiting Bali too, so we were stretched in all directions and my routine turned into complete chaos. I have to admit that I did have my grumpy moments when innocent friends thought they could see and do so many activities in one day that ranged from riding on elephants and surfing all before 3pm when they had massages booked at their villa!  The activities were at least two hours away from each other and with Bali 'rubber time', it's an achievement to do one activity per day. In the end, we had a fun day at the waterpark as the tide was too high for surfing and nobody fancied the long ride to see the elephants. Among all the chaos, I had food poisoning for one day and retreated to the darkness and solitude of my bedroom. Although not the most welcome way to have 'me' time, my friends were happy to take my 3 girls out for the day and I could recover on my own, so it worked out well.

The third event was at the gym when I was persuaded by a friendly Australian, called Jody (for months I only knew her as the happy, smiling Australian when we bumped into each other at the treadmill) to attend a gym class.  This would take me totally out of my routine as I usually like to get to the gym at 7.30pm so I can start working at 9am.  The gym class started at 9am! But the class sounded so much fun, I decided that I could be flexible with my work schedule. Run by an exceedingly charming, camp and extremely fit, bronzed, Balinese instructor whose biceps bulged as though they were going to burst, the class was packed with keen, toned, fit looking young women. I promptly hid at the back, behind a lady who had some extra 'padding' like me (she re-assuringly told me that my arms and legs were ok, but I had a big tummy like her), only to frequently find myself at the front leading the class when he told us to turn around!

Looking like an uncoordinated rag doll, I found myself doing the opposite of what the rest of the class were doing, while I tried to reverse in my head what the instructor was showing us and desperately trying to catch up with the rest of the group.  My puzzled facial expressions must have said it all, as my caring instructor observed my plight and kept on pointing at me, screeching above the loud, booming music in his high pitched Indonesian voice, "It's ok. Have fun." I did indeed have fun and felt a wonderful rush of endorphins by doing something out of routine. I have never laughed, panted and sweated all at the same time so much before. The extra bonus for me, was that after what felt like months on the treadmill (ok nearly two months with breaks in between) and failing to shift any weight, I ended up aching in places that I didn't know I could ache. We had so much gyrated our hips and stuck out our buttocks that it was painful to sit down afterwards and we had stretched our upper torsos in so many directions, I knew that my waist still had muscles in it somewhere.  Psychologically I felt like my body had already been toned in the places where I would like most impact and this was all because I was persuaded to do something out of my routine.

Thank you to all those events and people who get us out of our routine.

The following two quotes are great examples why chaos and getting out of routine can be good for us:-

"Chaos breeds life, while order breeds habits." 
Henry Adams

And

"As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge." 

Henry Van Dyke

Enjoy life and the new dimensions of the soul!

Janet

A Perilous Journey with a Rich Reward

How many of us get out of our comfort zone and do something with risk attached to it?  Some of us may be forced out of our comfort zone and have to do something that may seem perilous to us.  Some of us may want to do something out of our comfort zone, but may be reluctant to take the step and others may just go for it.



On this particular occasion, our perilous journey started out as soon as we hit the chaotic roads in Bali in our faithful, old jeep. My family and I were going away for the weekend to celebrate my birthday and were heading to a villa at a boutique hotel along the West Coast. Although only an hour from our home, the journey seemed to last forever as we dodged the motorbikes, inhaled the toxic, black fumes from all the hot and dirty traffic and raced with the impatient little trucks and cars, as they beeped to show they wanted to overtake even if they didn't have the engine power to do so.

The stream of traffic driving to and from Java was an incredible sight as lorries that had emptied their loads in Bali made their way north and nearly toppling lorries, stacked high and well above what would be acceptable in developed countries made their way south. One big, old lorry had overturned on a bend, its concrete slab contents strewn across part of the road. All it had to warn oncoming traffic was a little green leafed branch sticking out at the end of it (Bali's equivalent of a warning triangle).

I have now got used to these 'accident warnings' and although they make me chuckle, I admire Bali's eco-friendly and simple way of politely informing us of a breakdown or a danger such as a fallen away road.  I'd love to see a policeman's reaction if I did this in my home country, the UK! Unfortunately I wasn't quick enough to take a photo - we did, however, bet on the likelihood that it would still be there on our return and it was (my camera had run out of battery at this stage, so another missed opportunity to take a photo)!

Thankfully we reached our destination in one piece. The hotel had a private beach which we had all to ourselves. In the hotel brochure, my husband had seen a cave in a sea cliff and decided that we should take a gentle stroll to find this cave before dinner. Our daughters would have nothing to do with our suggested walk and sent my husband and I off on our own.





What started out as a gentle stroll, turned out to be a mass expedition, scaling the treacherous and slippery rocks overlooking the sea. As I dutifully followed my husband who kept on re-assuring me that it would be easier on the way back because we'd be climbing up the rocks rather than down, I couldn't help wonder to myself whether this was a responsible thing to do with 3 daughters who had total trust that we would return. This, plus the fact that I was now officially in my mid 40s, who happened to have a handbag slung over my shoulders which kept on getting tangled up in my legs and I had to hitch my dress up to minier than mini level, didn't make me feel best equipped person to tackle this sort of risk.

To add to my perilous dilemma, the West coast is known for its high, professional surfer waves, the tide was coming in, night time was falling and there wasn't a single surfer in sight, only a little fishing boat bobbed up and down, in and out of sight on the wild waves. It was strange to see a fishing boat at this time of the day, maybe we provided some entertainment to the local fishermen.



As I froze still standing on a rock face, with a bitter, sweet feeling of fear and amazement as the huge waves crashed against the black rocks, my husband wandered further along the rocks and disappeared out of my sight.  I was alone on this eerie, but at the same time surreal rock not knowing whether to advance or retreat.  My husband whistled loudly and I ventured to look around the rock. He beckoned me to follow him and so I did, not knowing whether I would be rewarded or punished by what was ahead of me.


Although the journey seemed perilous at times, the reward at the end was well worth stepping out of the unknown and taking a few risks. I couldn't believe the feast for my eyes, as I saw what must have been hundreds of bats hanging upside down like jewels in a cave. It was a spectacular sight, melodious sound and breathtaking moment that was a perfect reward for having done something out of my comfort zone.

The next day we took the perilous route again to show our children the bats and it seemed less perilous this time and makes a good acronym in life where we take risks and it gets easier when we've already done it. I even managed to capture the moment on video:-

If ever you have to take risks, there'll be rewards. No matter how scary it may seem to you at the time, you'll make new discoveries, be more knowledgeable and come out stronger. I couldn't resist using an ocean quote I like for this blog:-

"Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore."
Andre Gide

The following quote is a good one too:-

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful that the risk it took to blossom"
Anais Nin

Enjoy the personal rewards that come with taking risks.


Janet

By the way, the hotel we stayed at was the Gajah Mina Beach Resort www.gajahminaresort.com
Tip:- Don't be too specific about your check out time - we said we would leave around 11.30am and a whole entourage of staff stood outside our villa waiting to clean our villa at 11.25am - felt pressurised to finish packing quickly!

Never Too Old Nor Too Late

Do you ever think to yourself that something or other is past it, or can't be done? Maybe, after all, it's getting too old and/ or it's too late.  Depending on what age we are, or where we are in our life, we may have these thoughts about ourselves.  There are two life lessons that I have experienced over the last couple of weeks that have helped me dispel this myth.

The first was our sick 45 year old jeep (Actually my husband calls it a 'go anywhere' Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40, but it's easier just to call it a jeep).  It was in a sorry state. As soon as she started up, she had problems keeping on running - a feeling I know well. I was starting to wonder whether it was worth having an old vehicle and was it too late for her to perform better - I know this feeling too. My husband tried some perfunctory fixing under the bonnet and with blackened, oily hands broke the news that we, as in the both of us, had to somehow get it to a garage.  The challenge was how to do this when the jeep needed to be kept at high revs, otherwise it cut out and refused to move again. It was a double challenge to do this and keep the jeep going, while tackling the heavily congested Bali roads,  which is like diving into a rugby scrum of vehicles and hoping to survive without any scrapes or breakages at the end of it.


We agreed (I somewhat reluctantly - knowing the likelihood of breaking down) that my husband would drive the jeep and I would follow in my car with a set of jump leads, should the inevitable happen.  We had a promising start.  The two roads leading from our home in Bali are quiet, rice field lined lanes, so my husband could let the jeep rip through the countryside at high revs and without stopping. The problems started when we had to cross onto a main road that looked as though we had just hit rush hour, even though it was only 10 o'clock on a Sunday morning.  

My husband had to stop before crossing the junction, otherwise he would have caused carnage. I could hear the roaring of the jeep's engine as he tried, in vein, to keep the revs high, while slowing down at the same time, but after a burst of energy and desperately wanting to keep on going, it spluttered and died.


Now what? I drove behind the jeep, so both our vehicles were obstructing the entrance to the road.  A group of young to middle aged Balinese men were perched in their little bamboo hut, doing their usual 'watching the world go by' and I could feel their eyes diverting to us. 

They were obviously asking the same question and curiously wondering what this expatriate couple would do next. We pretended to look as though we knew what we were doing, lined up the two vehicles and attached the jump leads.  


The jeep started up, my husband wedged his shoe on the accelerator while he detached the jump leads and we were ready to attempt crossing the junction again. I wanted to turn around and find some other way to fix the jeep.  My husband had made up his mind that we were going to complete this mission. Fortunately for us and by some miracle act, we made it across the junction and in one piece. By taking a deep breath and momentarily closing my eyes to traffic approaching me in both directions, I managed to dart across the junction as if my car were attached to the jeep.


Luckily, the road to the garage was straight ahead and after quite a scary, fast and furious ride, revving up behind and overtaking the dawdling motorbikes, cars and chugging lorries, we made it and the mechanics were more than happy to fix our jeep. When we picked her up the next day, she had been fixed and cleaned - she was positively gleaming in the garage.  My husband drove her out and she was as good as new. 


Since then we've been driving along dirt tracks and over bumpy fields down to various beaches and all the time she's roared as confidently and proud as a lion.

The second life lesson happened to be my experience at the gym.  After a two month relapse of not doing anything to keep fit, I reluctantly knew that I had to get back on the treadmill.  My first week back was poor.  It felt like heavy lead weights had been attached to my body and not even the song 'La Bamba' motivated me. 


My friend Alison re-assured me that it would come back very quickly if I took it a step at a time. These words of wisdom kept me going and by the end of the second week I made a turnaround when the old song 'One Way Ticket' by Eruption started booming out of my headphones and quickened the step in my stride.  

There was only one way I was going and that was forwards. The next song 'Coming Back to You' by Bryan Adams made me feel like my body was coming back to me and by the time Iggy Pop's 'Lust for Life' started playing, I broke out into a run for the whole song! Yes, I know my music collection is dated, but these old songs must somehow take me back to my youth and sometimes do wonders for my energy levels at the gym.  (By the way, those are not my fit looking legs on the picture).


I did have to quickly change the tune when Chris Rea's 'Road to Hell' started playing and the good news is that we can actually make these kind of changes.  If something is telling us one thing - whether it is self talk or somebody else and we don't want to hear it or we start to wrongly believe in it - we can change the tune to a better, more productive one. 


What have these little life lessons taught me? As C.S. Lewis wisely said:-


"You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream."



And an equally powerful quote from George Elliot that I like is:-


"It is never too late to be who you might have been."


Enjoy being who you want to be and doing what you want to do.


Janet