Thank you thank you thank you thank you. Not even a comma. Thank you.Work today was just amazing. It flowed. I rode it and observed. I worked hard too, but it felt like play. It was. Thank you.
A teambuilding afternoon with a leadership consultancy - with the brief to get their mixed group of coaches/facilitators/organisers/project managers to have a positive experience together. Bond. I'm trying to avoid saying the word, but it has to be said.
I was nervous, although very, very calm, even in the face of being about to start and still having a couple of decisions to make. Obscenely so, actually. I was full of trust - that's one thing. And the people were lovely. My intro plans went totally up in smoke as immediately having handed over to me for my four-hour session, the person in charge came in with something else. It worked a treat.
And this is where some of the discomfort of the conversation in December came in - about having to keep control in this kind of situation. I didn't. I Yes Anded. And it didn't even hurt. Yes. Let's do exactly what you're suggesting. Great idea. And how about THIS. That would have been harder for me, had we not had that chat.
Thanks also to Alex Fradera for a reminder of some Patti Stiles games last night, and some good advice. Thank you for taking the time, though we haven't spoken much recently. Bigly appreciated. One nugget in particular was very useful indeed: don't spend any extra attention on the people who are NOT into it. Focus on those who are having a great time and include everyone - but don't make it about winning over the tough cookies. When enough people are having a good time, they're likely to come along. They came along. They played. I saw everyone, at some point, roar with laughter. If that's what I'm here to do - if that's my purpose - I shall not complain. Not one bit. That's great.
It's about what you're there for, isn't it, in a facilitation role? I was there to get them to bond. There would have been no benefit in asserting myself needlessly and make people do what I wanted against their will when the objective was being met without that. It was such a great heap of learning. Of COURSE I'd do twenty things differently. Of COURSE there is always massive room to improve. But, like with the last mask course, I learnt all that and delivered something that did the job.
As always, I absolutely loved the games, and the participants seemed to as well. Eastenders drew proper roars from all kinds of people. And the more culturally diverse the group, the funnier it gets. Getting people from France, Denmark, Germany and Holland to hit it with a proper East End accent is one of my favourite things ever.
I am so grateful for this job. To Celine for the opportunity and her boss for the trust and letting me go for it even though she wasn't quite sure what to expect. That says a huge amount about how respected Celine is. Other people took the opportunity to tell me how brilliant she was too. Very proud, Pudding. That's what I am of you.
I am so grateful for that flow feeling. The room was decked with chandeliers and mirrors. I caught myself clapping again. There were moments during that session when I thought 'I just can't believe I'm getting paid to do this. I LOVE it!'. I love it. And I'm grateful to all the help I receive in getting it.
Thank you for Tamas, the ever-patient and very friendly hotel man who helped me rearrange the room (i.e. rearranged the room), only to put it back exactly the same again for tomorrow. Thank you for a taxi to the station, a train, a tube, a bus, all with less than a few minutes' wait. Thank you for the moment on the bus where I went for a slug of water from my big orange bottle at the same time as a massive bus lurch. In yer face! Well, all over my chin, chest and shoulders, actually. Slick. And then to publicly guffaw straight after. Seriously... why am I single? (I promise, I'm rationing myself with that phrase, but if the time is ever, it is now).
This morning, I had help (even before I got to the venue). I'm grateful to the man at Waterloo who persevered and persevered to get my Oyster card sorted when I touched in (like a twat) immediately after buying a ticket. It took a good five minutes, but it was perfect. He refused to give up, the tenacious fucker. I was very, very grateful indeed.
Even before that (ooh, we're going Memento-stylee today) I spent half the night awake, bothered by storms and thoughts. All night, there was harsh wind and rain hitting the windows. All night. And as I sat and prepared this morning, every glance out of the window showed me trees bending almost double, rain howling down.
And then, at about 5 to 9, ten minutes before I had to leave, I look out of the window one more time... blue skies, sunlight celebrating. It's a beautiful, beautiful day. I was almost tempted onto my bike, but then I realised that the wind was still scary-manic, so I got the bus instead. Front seat again. Minor glee, but glee just the same. And once again, a gentleman stood back to let me off. I don't mind who does it, gender, age or anything-wise. Isn't it nice when someone gives you that little thing, or accepts it when you do it.
Home, and a hearty stew and veg and lovely chat with Ruth. I will never get over how very nice it is to come home to a dinner that someone else has cooked for you. It was Ann's beef stew, which she'd cooked for Ruth all that time ago, saved and savoured, defrosted, so it was double-gifted. And again, we got to chat. Tales of ice and bitter winters. Virginia Waters frozen over. Dangerous skating trips on a gravel pond (deep, precarious, the 'skating on thin ice' that made the cliche). I was a little bit rushy this morning on the way out and focused on my nerves, so it was nice to be able to take the time, gently and easily, to talk.
Ruth made me laugh. Since the beginning of the year, I've left out caffeine and refine sugar from what I consume. As I've probably banged on about for aeons before, it's so much easier to not do something than to do it in moderation. The freshness I feel in my brains without caffeine is delightful. Having a sugar-free tongue is fabulous too. And Ruth, since coming home just yesterday, has tempted me with biscuits, yoghurts, sponge pudding, the t(h)reat of bread and butter pudding and even some ornate sweeties from a jar. Brilliant. She is my gentle sugar-skirting nemesis. I love it.
That reminds me of a much bigger moment too. Less than 24 hours after I stopped drinking alcohol, almost 12 years ago, the man I was seeing, and in whom I was still in love, revealed that he'd spent that day with someone else. That turned out to be one of the biggest gifts ever. I was devastated (though something inside me knew there was something up), and I stuck to my plans. I didn't drink. I never ever have since. Even in very hard times, I've thought of that. Only once did that self-destructive voice suggest a drink - some time during my time alone, travelling in 2002/3. And I remembered - nothing else can MAKE me do that. No external situation has any correlation with whether or not I drink alcohol. None.
I thank that man for that, and I still love him very warmly, in a calmer, less needy way. I am grateful for the fact he is still in my life, in a distant-close-distant way, that' he's happy and sorted, with a beautiful family and still that energy and drive he always had. And that he gave me that opportunity. So bring it on, Ruth. Hit me with cartloads of biscuits, mountains of pudding and great lakes of custard. I can handle it.
Yesterday, Ruth said 'Don't you have lovely friends! Aren't you lucky!', having met Esther Lilley, Kate and Catherine, and heard of Sarah Lonton and many more. Yes I do and yes I am. Very, very, very. And that's not even the half of it.
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