I’ve been trying to teach myself to take my recyclable shopping bag to the supermarket for ever!

I always remember the shopping list but remembering that bag usually only kicks in when I’m stood at the check-out.

Still, I’ve persisted. Doggedly.

Then this week, I realised that I’ve adopted it as a new unconscious habit.
I just pick it up and take it with me like that’s how it’s always been.

Persistence.
A fabulous thing.
It never crossed my mind to say “Oh, I never remember it; I’m just going to give up trying.”

A lesson in there somewhere.

My Golden Egg is this.
If you are dealing with someone who is talking about a problem that affects them, see if you can ask,

“How’s your heart?”

At first, most people look at me quizzically as though I’ve just become a Doctor and I’m concerned about that extraordinary muscle in our chests (that beats on average over one hundred thousand times per day!)
Either by tone or change of phraseology, I convey that I want to know how they feel emotionally. Too often people express things in a mental or physical manner and something about asking
“How’s your heart?”

blasts that aside for a moment and encourages a person to address the issue from another perspective.

The breakthroughs I’ve accomplished with this simple question, asked sincerely has been beyond belief.

On a further note, if you have a person ask themselves this on a frequent basis, more often than not, the person starts to feel better about life in general.
Try it yourself

There is a chap in London who carries a small digital voice recorder in his pocket when he goes to parties.
If people end up somewhat the worse for wear, he asks them “What’s your best idea?” and records their answer.
He has several years worth of data!

I do a similar thing (just usually in daylight)
I ask people from all walks of life,

“What is your Golden Egg? Your one golden piece of insight or advice about your profession?”

In fairness not everyone can answer the question straight away but I will frequently offer my card with my email address and an expression of hope that if they can think of it, might they share it with me.

The results are… beautiful.

I receive random emails, sometimes days; sometimes weeks or months later.
Many start off with a joke like “Don’t do it; escape whilst you can” etc but then go on to offer some stunning insights.

So what’s your Golden Egg? (If you’d like to post it, please click here and a new window will open to a page that collects “Golden Eggs”)

The previous two posts are stolen.

They were stolen from two other seperate blogs.
They were stolen because they really hit home with me.
They made me think.
They inspired me to think.
And the results of that thinking inspired me further.

Steal them from me, if you wish.
Please.
You’re welcome.

What can we do with these things that we steal?

Only one word of warning.
Steal only things that touch you.
Anything less won’t make it worthwhile.

Post on Constant Challenge credited to RG Ryan
Post on Identifying with your Religion credited to ‘SpiritSeeker’

Indulge my curiosity for a moment if you will and ponder the following question:

What is the greatest challenge you face in your life on a consistent basis…day to day; week to week…etc.

Should you be so inclined, I’d appreciate hearing your response.

This question is not about religions.
It is about you and your relationship with your religion.
What was / is the ‘X’ factor about your religion that had you stand forward and go ‘yes, this is for me’?

I have this last week or so, had the immense pleasure of working closely with a department within the V&A (Victoria and Albert Museum, London)In the process, I had time on occasion to explore various parts of the museum and indeed various buildings.
It is by any standard, an extraordinary museum and if this were to be an utterly self-absorbed post, I am sure I could easily write some 10,000 words and still not capture the magnitude of all I saw.

However, for the point of this post, I refer to just one gallery in the V&A at South Kensington.
The Raphael Cartoon Gallery.

If anyone has a moment to spare, regardless of your appreciation of art, I would encourage you to detour to the V&A and walk into this room.
If not for the art itself but for just a glimmer at a life of accomplishment.

So often these days we seem to do so much.
Sometimes, I think we often think we do too much.

Yet to walk into this gallery and to see just a small percentage of this mans work – and yet the enormity of it – is breathtaking … and sobering.

Wow!

As to the lessons and inspirations that can be gained when one thinks of passion and dedication, I dare not even start.
If you’ve lost your way, find your way to the V&A

A useful parable / analogy when training people.

Way back when I went to school, to my chemistry classes… Oh, the fun of it.
Outside the classroom hung a rack of white coats and I would importantly pull one on and step in through the door. Infront of me were rows of dark benches and stools placed before them.
I would pick my stool and settle before the bench.

With great ado and showmanship, I would light my bunsen burner and put a small beaker of water atop of the flame.
Sure enough, within minutes the water would be boiling and steam would rise into the air.
It was very impressive.
For about half a second before I became bored with it.

Then however, I would reach into my pocket and pull out of it a secret.
A tiny, singular crystal.
This I would drop into the water and to the amazement of everyone around me, the water turned a vibrant purple and the clouds of steam billowed forth until there was nothing but wonderful purple powder left in the base of the beaker.

Now I can bring everything with me for your success.
I can provide the white coat and protective glasses.
I can provide the classroom, the bunsen burner and the beaker of water.

What I need you to contemplate is what you can bring to the table.
I need you to bring that single crystal.
That crystal is called ‘Passion’ and if you can bring that with you,
I can make you successful.

Have you got that crystal?

Today, headlining the BBC is the story that the British Govt is looking to specifically reveal that the British Marines ‘kidnapped’ by Iran were not in Iranian waters.
This is being presented by the British as ‘pulling the rug out from under the Iranians’.

What a load of bollocks.

I’d offer this as perhaps a more accurate representation of the British Govts decision.

The British Govt is acutely aware of the publics complete loss of confidence in their ability to present events in a true manner (I refer as only one example, invading Iraq on the excuse of ‘WMD’ – appalling!)

The BBC and a spokeperson for Whitehall have already admitted that this tactic they are looking to employ today may have no effect on the Iranians.
That is a moot point because releasing such information is not meant to have an effect in that direction. (any effect would be a bonus.)
The information is being released for the sole reason of trying to buoy up the publics confidence in the Govts spin.

Never before in history have I seen such a tactic undertaken and it is a sad reflection on the appalling state of no-confidence the British public – perhaps the World – has of Blairs Government.

Edward Longshanks, also known as Kind Edward I of England was a bastard.

However, before he confirmed this with his actions, his life as a child was an interesting one.
His mother had a premonition that when Edward was about seven years old, he had to be at a castle in France.
His mother – Queen consort Eleanor of Provence - didn’t know why Edward had to be there but was intent that it should be so. It was quite a feat for the Queen consort to influence the Royal Court (let alone be heard) but she had her way and the Royal Family made their way to the castle.

According to the story, the family had to be in the garden at a certain time on a certain day and Eleanor made sure it was so.
Young Edward was reputedly bored and therefore to occupy himself, was running around the maze in the garden when quite unexpectedly he turned a corner and came face to face with a seven year old girl.
It was love at first sight and some nine years later the two were married.
Like his mother, Edwards wife was called Eleanor.

Edward went on to conquer Wales and tried to conquer Scotland and was renowned for his visciousness and cruelty.
He is believed to have instigated a rule in Scotland that when any Scotswoman was to be married, she had first to sleep with the local Lord of the Land (ie. raped) on her wedding night before she could be returned to her husband.
(The idea apparently being that by being forced to sleep with an Englishman, the Scottish blood line would eventually be lost.)

He persecuted the Jews and was the first to insist that Jews place small yellow patches of cloth on their clothes to identify themselves – a technique later used by another bastard, Adolf Hitler –  before eventually he threw all Jews out of England.

His wife accompanied him on all his journeys across the Great British isles as he undertook each military campaign. They apparently never spent a night apart throughout their married life.
However one night in Lincoln, Eleanor died.
Edward was reportedly swamped with grief.
He turned his army back toward London as as the enormous group traveled back to the capital, Edward had a huge cross erected to his wife as they stopped and camped each evening.
These became known as the Eleanor Crosses. Twelve of them stretched down across the East coast of England.

The last one was erected at Charing Cross – the very Centre of London.
Charing meaning ‘Queen’. 

For all of Edwards cruelty – of which much I have not even touched upon – for all of his lack of redeeming qualities, like all men, somewhere there is some good. Somewhere there is a heart. Somewhere there is something positive that can motivate…