weston culture » trish

Joy Retro Disco presents What You Waiting For by Gwen Stefani

trish — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 23:14:17 +0000

I’ve been cleaning out my iTunes over the last couple of weeks – desperately trying to squeeze another couple of gigs room on my hard-drive – and this song just jumped out at me while I was trawling through the least-played lists last night.

I know it’s a noughties song and so is barely retro, but there’s something about it that makes me want to get up and move. I’m not sure if it’s the OTT Alice-inspired video, or its theme of overcoming writer’s block, or the uncensored refrain screeching out “Take a chance you stupid ho!” (or all three) but I like it.

This is the song of my life right now, and as such, it is inducted into the glorious Joy Retro Disco Hall o’Fame. Welcome the Gaga-inspiration, Ms Stefani.

How people change: Working with the stages and processes of change

trish — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 00:12:22 +0000

While archiving a journal recently, I found an old photocopied article wedged in its pages. Upon re-reading it, I was struck by just how relevant (and now, mainstream) the ideas in this article were.

The article, from the September 1992 edition of American Psychologist, was entitled “In Search of How People Change” and was written by James Prochaska, Carol DiClemente and John Norcross. In it, Prochaska and friends outline their “stages of change model” which has become de rigeur knowledge for change agents over the past 20 years. Based on their work in the field of addiction, the model proposes five stages that people go through when changing.

Pre-contemplation – where we see no problem with our behaviour or situation, and consequently have very little motivation to change
Contemplation – where we are thinking about change, maybe wondering what’s possible, checking out options but not acting on it
Preparation – where we seriously consider what needs to be done to bring about change
Action – where we do what’s needed to change
Maintenance – where we monitor and adjust our behaviour so that the change is sustained.

The Stages of Change are quite well known and often used as justification for why the cliche “a person has to be ready to change” is wheeled out when someone is resistant to change.

A less known part of the model is how it can inform the processes of change. Processes can range from consciousness raising and self-evaluation to helping relationships and stimulus control. Different processes help people move through the different stages.

For example, if you’re in Pre-Contemplation about your health, you’re quite happy to chow down at the greasy spoon for lunch everyday and not see it as a problem. But when you receive feedback from your GP (consciousness raising) that your cholesterol levels are above average, you may move into the Contemplation stage of “Maybe I should do something about my diet to improve my health?”.

It’s interesting but I’ve never read any coaching literature that explores what processes we use in relation to the stages. It’s probably because most of the people we work with are at the Preparation or Action stages and our processes help people get into action (and to a lesser degree, maintain change). I’ve been wondering how much better coaching could be if we gave more attention to what we could do in the other stages.

Revisiting Prochaska et al’s model has really opened my mind in relation to what’s possible with helping people change. I find this the mark of great research: it doesn’t just tell us how things are but invites us to explore what we can do with this knowledge.

The article is quite accessible and I’d invite you to read it for yourself and reflect on what it means for your own change or in working with those going through change. I’ve put a copy of it in the Studio.

This article was first published in the March edition of Design Notes, the newsletter of the Work/Life Design program.

Just like a bought one: The best curry I’ve ever made

trish — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 01:39:33 +0000

I’ve often wondered why my curries never taste like the ones at the Indian restaurants. I follow the recipes. I make my own spice mixes from scratch. I can be generous with the salt. But they still taste nothing like the local curry house’s butter chicken or vindaloo.

However, last night I made a curry that tasted SO good I had to stop myself from finishing the pot, and now I’m rethinking my spice mix.

Specifically, I’ve always been a very conservative garam masala user – just a dash or quarter teaspoon added toward the end of cooking. The recipe for last night’s curry (a lamb Rogan Josh found after investigoogling) called for three (3!) teaspoons of garam masala. I’d never made a Rogan Josh before so decided to trust the web recommendation and put a whole two (yes, 2!) teaspoons in my curry. And, I put it in with the other spices at the beginning. I tell you, there was much change afoot in the C’ran Country Kitchen last night. The other thing I did differently was cook it extra long (60 to 90 minutes) with the yoghurt in.

So here be the easiest, tastiest lamb curry – inspired by the Lamb Rogan Josh at the blog, Route 79.

1 onion

2 cloves garlic

500g lamb (leftovers was my choice but you can get fancy and buy fresh) chopped into 2cm pieces (or however you prefer it)

oil

half tsp salt

1 tsp turmeric

2 tsp garam masala

2 tsp ground coriander

2 tsp ground cumin

1 tsp chilli powder

1 tin tomatoes (diced)

2 tblsp yoghurt

Cooking this curry is too easy.

In a medium pot, dry fry the spices and set aside. If you’re using fresh lamb, then you probably want to brown it first. (Leftover lamb can be thrown in later). Remove browned lamb and set aside. Add a little oil, fry the onion and garlic until soft. Throw the spices back in – making sure to keep it moving so they don’t burn. When it’s all getting nice and fragrant, throw the lamb in and coat with the spice/onion mix. Throw in the chopped tomatoes. Let it cook for a couple of minutes and then add the yoghurt. Mix it all up, bring to simmer, cover and cook on low heat for 90 minutes. Be sure to check every 30 minutes and add more water if necessary. As I was using cooked lamb, I only cooked for 60 minutes or so and then let it sit for the next 30 minutes.

Taste and adjust seasoning. Throw in some chopped coriander and serve with steamed rice.

You can check out the original recipe (I’ve made a couple of changes) over at Route 79. There’s also a whole swag of other Indian recipes there that I’d love to try. Mutter Paneer? Lamb Biryani? And I’m just a tad curious about Indian style KFC!

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Love is everything: Jane Siberry and the art of being human

trish — Tue, 23 Mar 2010 11:43:48 +0000

On Saturday night I did the big drive to Brisbane to go to a gig by an artist whose music was the soundtrack to my early adult years. Jane Siberry is part-way through an extensive world tour in which she’s bringing her Salon to people’s lounge rooms.

In a bold move, Jane put the offer out to her fans that if they could find 30 people who were willing to pay $30 each, then she’d turn up and perform in their lounge room. At the time of writing, over 80 Salons have been scheduled.

The Salon tour is all part of her reassessing how music and money can co-exist, side-stepping the cookie-cutter machine that is the music industry to bring music and community back to the people.

When I heard of this concept, I knew I had to go. I love it when people create their own ways of being in the world and this kind of thinking and approach is much needed in the music industry – an industry that makes billions of dollars out of talent, while the majority of musicians are working multiple jobs to support their creative endeavours.

It has been a few years since I’d even heard a Jane Siberry track. However, I knew her album, When I Was A Boy, inside out when I was an angsty, love-lorn twenty-something. I was confident that no matter what direction she’d gone in the last 15 years, I was sure to appreciate her immense talent.

It was only as I began the two hour drive to Brisbane that I reacquainted myself with her music. Its impact on me was immediate. I WAS an angsty, love-lorn twenty-something again. The feelings came back instantly. I even remembered some of the words – which would come in handy later in the evening.

So you could say I was well and truly primed when I arrived at the Brisbane Salon. James Lees and Silver Sircus were the hosting Jane’s performance in the lounge of James’ inner Brisbane Queenslander. There was something very apt about this setting. Not only is a Queenslander the ubiquitous Brisbane house – wooden floorboards, windows open and verandah around to quell the summer heat – but being back in that environment was like coming home. Much of my Brisbane life was lived in these houses and their high-ceilinged lounge rooms and verandahs remind me of happy times with many friends.

I was pretty apprehensive about attending, as Caro was sick and I was going alone. I had no need to worry though, as James was the perfect host and because it was a small gathering, most people were happy to chat.

James and Lucinda Shaw, performing as Silver Sircus, opened the night with three songs. When Lucinda began singing, I was again transported back almost 20 years, watching her performing in a cafe in New Farm. I remembered what it meant to me in the early 1990s to hear her sing so lovingly and cheekily of a queer Brisbane life.

Tonight, she mentions that she is nervous to be singing in front of so many friends but the nerves do not detract from the performance. If anything, they enhance it. I get that this is important. Plus, Lucinda and James have become such wonderful multi-talented musicians that you don’t realise that it’s a drummer (James) and a vocalist (Lucinda) stepping out of their roles by providing piano and guitar accompaniment.

When Jane emerges from the Salon’s green room (ie the kitchen) we are ready for the journey she will take us on for the next two hours. She weaves stories of humanity through spoken word, song and music – accompanied by piano, guitar, and trusty ipod. She is captivating. Stories of pain, love and hope that transport you to the villages she’s already visited in her almost 30 year career – whether it be listening (really listening) to kids in a bus shelter in Britain or greeting the locals in her native Toronto. She speaks of energy and oneness and relationships getting to the heart of our human experience – to love, to connect, to see and bring out the beauty in us all. By the time the encore arrives and the whole room is singing (in harmony!) the chorus of Calling All Angels, I don’t just have shivers up my spine, I have shivers through my whole body.

Like a magician, Jane Siberry has transported us to this beautiful place (which is where we always were anyway – we just didn’t see it). I’ve been to many gigs where I’ve been moved, where I’ve felt one with the crowd and performers, but very few have challenged my thinking and cajoled my senses like this one.

It’s love and sustainability in action – through music and performance. It’s connecting with the people directly – not through profit hungry middlepeople. It made me think about all the ways I could be living love and connecting with the people who need what I do. If how we want to live doesn’t exist, or if the current system doesn’t work, then we have the power to change it, to create it anew. Or perhaps create it a-old?

The whole Jane Siberry Brisbane Salon has made think. And feel. And dream.

And from that place, I am alive.

Love IS everything.

The natural seasons of business

trish — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 10:57:41 +0000

When I was a bookseller, the month of October always meant Christmas because that was when the Christmas new releases arrived. It was a time when our stock level doubled (if not tripled) and the whole build up to the end-of-year busy season began.

The weird thing was, the books that made the bestseller lists at Christmas were being ordered in July or August, so you had to predict what was going to sell four or five months beforehand. Fortunately, in bookselling there are many publishers, distributors, and agents who are quite happy to tell you what’s going to be big in six months time. So the industry had its seasons, sometimes determined by customer need and sometimes driven by the suppliers’ marketing machine.

I was reminded of this ‘forward thinking’ this week when I suddenly found myself in March and wondered, what do I usually do this time of year? What season am I in?

For me, March means getting things up and running for April starts (for the 90 day cycle that takes us to the end of the financial year in June). However, working with people around the world means working with different cycles. For example, in some parts of the world the end of financial year is this month, so that brings all those questions forward.

Jeanette and I have recently been looking at how business can be enhanced from a permaculture framework. (Permaculture is an organic, systems-based approach to living and is usually applied to gardens). As with the season’s influence on when one plants, harvests, stores, and celebrates, I think we have natural seasons in business.

When is your time to plant in your business? When do your seeds get sown?
When do your seeds produce a yield?
Are there times where you have resources in store? Do you have dry (lean) or rainy (abundant) seasons that influence how you work?
When do you light the metaphorical bonfire and celebrate your yearly harvest?

Okay, the growing metaphors do sound a bit over the top, but, being aware of the cycles in how you work (especially those that you have little or no control over) means that you can look at how to work with the seasons. For example, you can:

stop beating yourself up for not having much work at the moment when it may be a natural market cycle of your industry
take advantage the slow times to ‘prepare the soil’
use your knowledge of the seasons to prepare for foreseeable obstacles and opportunities
celebrate the harvest – even if it’s not a bumper crop.

So what are your seasons? What season are you in now and how can you use this knowledge to help your business thrive this year?

This article first appeared in Design Notes, the newsletter of the Work/Life Design Program.

What. A. Week.

trish — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 05:27:54 +0000

It’s a rare event for me to be lost for words but this week has been so intense, I can’t even write about it yet. Here’s the synopsis – and I hope to get back to fill in the details later.

The week begins with a hissy-fit meltdown brought on by neglect of self-care. Mucho meditation later, all is good.
Diary is covered with red dots (clients)
Invitation to do retreats
Invitation to lecture in South America
An article I wrote a year ago gets published in Sydney’s Daily Telegraph
I get interviewed about said article on radio 2UE
Confab conference line falls over – 2 hours of rescheduling and re-writing guidelines for new system
Frabulous movie night catchup with the girls (always better when wearing 3d glasses)
Ping pong and drinkies with the noosa chicks (perhaps 3d glasses may have improved my game)
Much laughter
Lots of great wine

And, now, ready to start again…

This (Blogless) Life

Working toward higher goals. Sharing the love. Happy V day.

trish — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 23:13:12 +0000

I wrote this piece on love, valentines and quantum theory last year. I re-read it today to see if I’d changed my thinking on love – and was surprised and heartened to find it’s still pretty spot-on.

Quantum love and the essence of life

I’ve never been a big fan of Valentine’s Day. Like so many other days that are deemed significant in our culture, it’s one that rattles me as perpetuating so many heteronormative myths and being nothing more than a cheap consumer charade. (Tee-hee. I’ve been itching to use ‘heteronormative’ for ages!)

What that means is that, no, unlike the ever-popular Lisa Simpson, I never received the “choo-choo-choose me” Valentine’s cards from secret admirers as a child (or teenager, or adult, for that matter). Granted, I never gave anyone a card either, but hey, at age seven I was yet to discover feminism or The Secret.

Feeling unloved is probably one of the worst feelings in the world. And I don’t think I was alone in feeling exceptionally unloved on Valentine’s Day. So why participate in a cultural event that ends up just spreading the non-love?

But here I am, a pathetic, hypocrite of an adult, quite happy to be swept along in this folly of romantic love. On Valentine’s eve, I went searching for a special ‘love’-themed positive tune to post on this site and my V day plans include a special dinner with my love. (No, not the cat. Nooo, not my sMacBook. The other one – with two legs.) Actually, my enthusiasm for tunes of love and celebrating the day is probably more to do with “will use any excuse to eat wonderful food, guzzle champagne and dance around the house to cheesy music”.

It is true, though, that I’m a big sucker for love. In fact, it is my one value or guiding principle that has not changed over the years. For me it’s like the ultimate truth, the only reason we’re here, the singular essence of life: To live with love. And to isolate that to one day of the year just seems ridiculous.

In fact, my love attraction is so strong that whenever I’m making a tough decision, it only takes a Marianne-Williamson-moment for me to work out what I need to do. You see, I just ask myself, “What would love do?”

Now as I drag myself out from under my rock of new-age shame, let me explain why this works for me. Like so many popular songs have suggested, the world needs a lot more love. The alternative is living with fear, and although I’m pretty skilled at that, after years of giving the fear-based-life gig a red-hot go, I’d have to rate it as a pretty ineffective strategy for achieving quality of life.

So what is it about living with love that makes life a whole lot more worthwhile?

A recent paper in the journal NeuroQuantology by Antonella Vannini and Ulisse Di Corpo attempts to explain the life-giving power of love in terms of quantum mechanics.

In their paper, Retrocausality and the Healing Power of Love, Vannini and Di Corpo draw on the work of early 20^th century mathematician, Luigi Fantappie, and suggest that there are two competing laws at play that regulate our material needs (such as food, water, shelter, etc) – the law of entropy (waves diverging) and the law of syntropy (waves converging). Due to entropy we are always replacing lost energy through food and water, or minimising loss through shelter. Syntropy, on the other hand, is the law that sustains life. According to Fantappie, who gave syntropy its name,

“The law of life is not the law of hate, the law of force, or the law of mechanical causes; this is the law of non-life, the law of death, the law of entropy; the law which dominates life is the law of finalities, the law of cooperation towards goals which are always higher, and this is true also for the lowest forms of life. In humans this law takes the form of love.”

If we’re serious about sustaining life, then we have to “be like the atoms” and encourage convergence of energy. That is, work together toward higher goals and share the love. It also means that instead of always making rational, head-based decisions based on certainty (or our illusion thereof), we make heart-based decisions. In true quantum physics style, they also contend that the future determines the past (retro-causality is the inverse of causality where past events causes future events).

So when we have feelings we just can’t rationalise, like when we feel anticipation, it is the future sending us a message. And so in acting on our feelings, living with our heart, our future is determining our past.

Yup. [Back away slowly from the crazy lady…]

There’s more to the theory than that, as it deals with identity and meaning and how we connect with the environment. But I thought the stuff about love being the essential law of life was pretty neat – and way better than a tacky card and a hastily-bought box of chocolates.

I also like the theory because there’s a bit of a Taoist dichotomous balance thing going on as well; love and hate paradoxically co-exist, and the redress of hate or force is love. It also gives me insight into one of other great paradoxes of love, which was the fabulous opening line (and theme) of Jeanette Winterson’s Written on the Body:

Why is the measure of love loss?

Why do we not realise how much something, or someone, means to us until it has gone? That only through absence do we recognise what we truly have. By their very nature, love and loss co-exist.

If you want a brain-melt trip into the edges of research, you can read the full paper here.

And my Valentine’s wish? I hope all your days are filled with love.

POST SCRIPT: I was so chuffed when I published this piece last year to receive the comment “Beautiful” from the authors of the quantum love paper. A simple acknowledgment can mean so much.

This piece was first published 14 February 2009.

Reach beyond the familiar. Take risks. Let go.

trish — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 23:34:47 +0000

My friend and colleague, Jeanette, just sent me this Andrew Cohen quote (below) with the query “Is this us?!!”. I don’t usually get into Andrew Cohen’s writing. But, when I read through this quote I thought, “He’s nailed it – this is what we’re doing”. We’re not even at the “want to do” stage but this is actually happening now. We are bringing together people from diverse backgrounds with diverse interests but with a common goal of making the changes we need to make to allow a socially just, environmentally sustainable and spiritually fulfilling world to emerge.

To see this acknowledged on a global level is incredibly exciting. Not only because “We’re on the right track. Yay.” but all is in alignment…

Engaging in Creative Friction

Andrew Cohen

“In an inspired spiritual context where the evolution of consciousness and culture is the goal, coming together with others is not just about sharing an experience of peace, bliss, and harmony. It is about what I call creative friction.

“In fact, to me, the presence of ongoing creative friction is what indicates deep spiritual, psychological, and emotional health and vibrancy in this type of collective or intersubjective context. Creative friction is the very spiritual lifeblood of the new culture that we need to create, through consciously engaging with each other and the life-process itself, as we strive to deconstruct and transcend old structures and creatively construct new ones.

“If we are all committed to the same higher goal, there is room for many opinions and points of view—they are all colliding in a living, dynamic, creative context, in which everybody benefits from the friction. To be true evolutionary partners and pioneers means being so completely in alignment at the level of our fundamental motive that we are free to disagree and debate in such a way that we are challenged, each and every one of us, at the deepest level, to evolve.

“This takes guts and it takes heart; it means you always have to be willing to reach beyond the familiar, take risks, and continually let go. But if you have become deeply aligned with what I call the Evolutionary Impulse, you will not be afraid. You will experience creative friction as an ecstatic engagement with essence of Life, of Love, of God, and of your own Authentic Self.”

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My Ten for (20)10: Priorities for a life well lived.

trish — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 02:55:29 +0000

I mentioned last month that I’d started on my Ten For 10 – the ten things I wanted to be a priority this year. The list is still fairly much as it was when I first jotted it down

1. Being a loving partner – still so much to learn…

2. Write – about everything. Share what inspires me, what I’m passionate about, what it means to be a human now.

3. Develop work that I enjoy, work that represents my values and strengths. Allowing my projects to be all that they can be.

4. Healthy, strong, flexible body – its going to make the rest of my life possible

5. Friends – laughter, lightness, connection

6. Family – more laughter, support, presence

7. Bibliocoach project – changing the world one book at a time (a backburner project that needs moving to a front burner)

8. Create – see, feel, hear the colour, the beauty and life through painting, photography, music.

9. Tao – be in tune with the way. Understand it. Talk about it. Write about it.

10. Make our house a home – surround myself with beauty, inspiration, create a sanctuary.

11. Be mindful – whether through meditation or other practice, finding that peace and stillness that keeps all in flow.

Yeah, it’s 11 but that’s the other part of 2010, not being limited by arbitrary criteria. The point of the activity isn’t to get 10 priorities but to stretch myself to think of at least 10, or narrow my list of 100 ToDos down to a Top 10. 11 is good enough.

So I invite you to take some time to reflect on your own hopes, dreams and possibilities – for your life, for your work, for the world. What are your Ten for 2010?

And if you’d like, come share them at Confab on Wednesday 20 January. Details below…

WORK/LIFE DESIGN CONFAB

WEDNESDAY, 20 JANUARY 2010

6.30PM – 7.30PM (QLD TIME) / 7.30PM – 8.30PM (NSW/VIC TIME)

THIS MONTH’S THEME: A new year. Resolution or (r)evolution? Hopes, dreams, 2010 … and how to make it all happen.

WHERE: Skype/phone

RSVP: trish@worklifedesign.com.au

Confab is where we get together to share ideas, wins, challenges and support each other.

Confabs are an ideal space to bring your big questions (and little queries), to bounce ideas off others who may have been in the same situation or making similar decisions to you. You’ll get time to talk about what’s going on in your work and life (if you wish) as well as contribute to the monthly theme and resource pool.

Confabs are conducted by teleconference – so you are able to join in where ever you are in the world.

This article first appeared in the January 2010 edition of Design Notes, the newsletter of the Work/Life Design Program. You can find out more about Design Notes and the WLD Program at www.worklifedesign.com.au

A new year. Hopes. Dreams. Possibilities.

trish — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 02:06:06 +0000

I love January. Like December, it’s hot, humid and not conducive to fervent activity. It differs however in that because so many are on holidays, it can be lazy month with days spent on the couch watching tennis and waiting for the afternoon thunderstorm to roll in. It can be a month where a whole lot of nothing goes on.

It’s no secret that I’m a fan of spaciousness as it’s in those spaces that new ideas form, that we can shake ourselves out of automatic routines and ask “Is this really how I want to live my life?”

If we follow the seasons (climate and culture) then January presents itself as a natural month for reflection. Fortunately all this balmy weather and freedom coincides with another cultural reflection time – the new year. I’ve written elsewhere about new year resolutions and how they aren’t really the most effective strategy for long-term change. Resolving, or making that decision, to do or see things differently is an important step in change, but it’s not the only one. There’s usually a whole lot of action that comes after it – which is sort of the opposite of how I like to live out my January.

My January is about thinking big, having dreams, reconnecting with the things I’m passionate about and care about. It’s about remembering that for me, a life lived in mediocrity is a life half lived. From these big ideas the plan flows, even if it’s just the next step I have to take. It’s clear.