Month: January 2018

There is a place that I like to go. It is not a real place, more it resides in the landscape of my mind, where it changes and morphs, occurring to the current, external need. I would describe the place as a small cove, with a Joycean bend of bay and swerve of shore that encapsulates the golden sands in the gentle crescent of the ragged cliff, itself atopped with green and sprouting face bursts verdancy, in which live tiny birds of dazzling hues. Every morning, the perfect sun rises from the bronze sea, which continues to roll upon the shore with a gentle consistency. The sun climbs and I feel it illuminate and warm my smooth skin, for here, I am physically perfect. I am lean, fit and muscular and if I wish to run and somersault along the beach, then I can and I do! As I face the sea, to my left, hewn from marble ten feet high, is the word ‘Love,’ a permanent reminder of the greatest force in the Universe. If, back in the other world, I am feeling fearful, then with a stick, or a toe, I might write the word ‘fear’ in the sands, then watch, as the waves roll in and slowly erase it, so that it never was, and the granules fall back into a perfect sheen. Love is permanent. Fear is temporary. Guides can appear on the beach, and we will sit in the angle of the marble ‘L’, looking across the bay and converse in soft tones against the symphony of the sea. I hear the soft tones, the gentle waves and the multi-warmth of the love and the sun. I taste the airborne spray and feel the sand slip between my fingers. It is a multi-sensory singularity. A place where I can escape, seek an audience with my higher self and depart back into day, with perhaps clarity, or soothing. We all have a place that we like to go, when we disappear behind our eyes. This is mine.

I am currently writing a book called ‘Kaizen Your Life.’ Over the past couple of evenings, I have been spending time re-reading the text that I currently have, mainly with a mind to assessing how the information flows and to ascertain which topics are either missing or need further explanation.
As I have been going through I have, naturally, been correcting spelling errors, mistakes and clunky pieces of prose. True, the word processer helps here, by drawing my eye to the squiggly red underlinings that litter the pages like autumnal leaves. But there is a second category of errors, one which the computer is powerless to detect, namely where those mispelt words are spelling other valid words. It needs to context of human experience and knowledge to spot these. It got me thinking about the work that I have been doing to transition into someone more deliberate. It is the stuff that cannot be seen, that we have to be brave enough to hunt down, that is key. The red underlinings that the world sees in us are unimportant. It is when we are happy with the way our own story reads that we can deliberately define and choose where it goes. Best wishes.

I have another passion in my life, one seemingly unrelated to my passion for Continuous and Personal Development. I love the game of darts. I have been playing, on and off, for about thirty years now. For me though, greatness did not beckon. It has become clear that I will not be turning professional anytime soon! However, I still derive great joy and benefit from playing for fun. Darts is actually one of those games where thinking is detrimental to the outcome, so there is a certain therapeutic nature to throwing those small tungsten missiles at that colourful round target, which hangs almost eight feet away. The dart gives a beautiful thud as it enters the board and, every so often, though less so for a player of my skill level, there comes a moment where everything in the mechanics of the throw goes right. You hit a sweet spot. You know that you are going to hit the target before the dart leaves your hand. It is a wonderful, wonderful feeling. You know that you are going to be successful before the final thud of confirmation. In this instant, you are playing with freedom and real joy. The trick is to replicate it. Over and over again.
So actually, my passion for this sport (and I think it is a sport) is not too far removed from my passion for Continuous and Personal Development. When you practice, you are aiming to make a series of small incremental improvements. In the moment, and the collective moments that follow, it is difficult to notice that your skill level is slowly rising, but it is. It is a simple game. Success relies on the continued repetition of a throwing action. The foundation of this action is in your feet and the way that you stand, with balance and with solidity. Movement is the enemy of the darts player! The elbow becomes the fulcrum of the entire action, as the forearm goes over, again and again. Any undesired movement in the elbow could see the dart dragged low, pushed high, or pulled to the left and right. If you are a few millimetres off line at the beginning of your throw, the distance that the dart travels to the board magnifies this effect and you could find yourself missing the target by half an inch. A twenty will become a one. The whole body must cooperate in this one harmonious action. Any rotation of the shoulder or of the head could be disastrous. You must keep your eyes on the target throughout! True, your target will change, but your just readjust your aim and throw without thinking, trusting that you will find that sweet spot and that you will be successful before you even start.
So what is my inspiration for writing this post? Last night, on New Year’s Day 2018, the final of the World Darts Championship was held in Alexandra Palace, London. It was a poignant event. The greatest ever exponent of the game, a one Phil Taylor, had fought his way to the World final of his final event before retiring. Back in 1990, Phil had won his first World title, when he beat his mentor, the man that had previously been the best, Eric Bristow, by 6 sets to 1 in the final. 28 years on, and with an incredible 16 World Championship wins to his name, Phil Taylor found himself on stage in his 20th World Final. His had been a life dedicated to finding that small incremental improvement again and again and again. Over the decades, rivals had come, and rivals had gone, but Phil Taylor had remained a constant, a man fiercely dedicated to living his purpose and pursuing his goal, a man who lived in that sweet spot of the moment, again and again and again. His opponent last night was born in the same year that Phil had won his first World crown. Rob Cross, up until February 2017, hadn’t even been a professional, but he lived with a dream. He too burned with the same zeal that had driven his illustrious opponent for nearly thirty years. So, what was that outcome? In a way it doesn’t matter, but there was a satisfying symmetry about it. In 1990, the newcomer had beaten the master and, so it was last night. Rob Cross emerged the new champion, winning by 7 sets to 1 and averaging a score of 106 every time he visited the board. Phil Taylor, gracious in defeat, left the arena to his retirement, thirty years of dedication to continuous improvement and personal development having taken him to the top of the world. Now it was time to pass the baton. A new champion had emerged. We all have it within us to be champions, but what can we learn from the humble darts player, as we pursue our dreams? Find your process, align to your target, follow through and trust to the outcome. Perhaps that is it. Or perhaps it is simpler. Perhaps it is to live in the simple joy of doing something that you love and being the best you can be.