Saturday, 30 October 2010

Stop whining (and change your life)

I can't tell you how much this resonated with me:

Two problems with whining

The first is that it doesn't work. You can whine about the government or your friends or your job or your family, but nothing will happen except that you'll waste time.

Worse... far worse... is that whining is a reverse placebo. When you get good at whining, you start noticing evidence that makes your whining more true. So you amplify that and immerse yourself in it, thus creating more evidence, more stuff worth complaining about.

If you spent the same time prattling on about how optimistic you are, you'd have to work hard to make that true...

What we fix our eyes on is ultimately what we become, and the sooner we stop blaming situations for the reality of our present, the sooner we can get on with making a difference.

Sound fanciful and un-realistic or suspiciously like truth that we can all benefit from living by?

PS - words came from Seth Godin, here.

Friday, 29 October 2010


At work today, we got talking about the idea of having cows in the office.

In fact, we got talking about the idea of a cow on each desk. Then in a splendid moment of connected thinking, we got talking about this and this.

In a sweeping generalisation that is bound to raise the heckles of some, I would think that most Northern Hemisphere, city-dwelling folks will find the smell of cow dung pretty a little unpleasant. I'm not overly bothered by the smell, if I'm honest, how about you?


My point was that later on this afternoon, I was thinking that how do we learn what is a good or bad smell. A good or bad taste. A good or bad feeling? Anthropologists will have the minutia of this ready to educate us, I'm sure!

As the weeWeir is growing up, I'm finding myself aware of not passing on (too many of) my preferences for sensory stimulation - but equally I want her to share the joy of a delicious meal, an amazing view or an invigorating aroma.

I guess I'm learning to try and teach her what she is sensing and how to interpret that. That there's some senses there to warn about danger, I'm sure - but that as a parent I have the opportunity to shape how my daughter interprets the world, I'm certain.

What's your take?

Saturday, 23 October 2010

On such a day as this eleven years ago...

Eleven years ago, just about now, Jenny and I were climbing into the back of a car (driven by my brother-in-law, Graham) and heading off on honeymoon.

Eleven years ago today, Jenny and I got married, looking a little like this and completely unaware of what lay ahead for us.

Eleven years ago today, Jenny and I left our old experiences of our families behind and became a new part of the same families.

Eleven years ago, I cried saying my vows and later a wedding toast that makes me shudder to remember how poor it was (I'm grateful that YouTube wasn't around back then...!).

Eleven years ago, my Nokia 5110 was pretty cutting edge...and now I'm typing this on an iPad! Crazyness.

Eleven years ago, Jenny and I committed ourselves to each other and a lifelong journey of supporting each other through the highs and carrying each other through the lows.

Eleven years ago, Jenny and I might have strained to believe that we'd have had so many wonderful experiences in life, work and home.

Eleven years ago, Jenny and I may have struggled to think that we'd have such a tremendous weeWeir, that Jenny would be a Midwife and i'd get to do whatever it is I do for a living. We'd have been confident of having such great friends and loving family though. ;->

Tomorrow, year twelve of our great adventure together begins as the journey continues.

You are part of that journey, and we're glad that (most) of you are in it with us. For those who have helped us get this far, we are grateful. For those who are still with us now, thank you. For those who've just joined the fun, welcome.

C'mon, Mrs theWeir...let's go...

Thursday, 21 October 2010


There's often talk about parents building memories fortheir children. While I think that is valuable, I'm thinking that many of the memories we've built with the weeWeir have done us as much, or more good than they have for her.

I'm thinking about when we had a few nights away last month and she wouldn't settle to sleep on our first night. We tried our usual arsenal of tricks, but nothing worked. Eventually, after four hours we out her in the car and she was asleep in seconds. Literally seconds.


I look back and find it completely fine, cute, understandable and all that. At the time, it was none of those things.

What did I learn from that memory? What do I need to leave behind from that memory?

I learned that the moment can be hard to separate from the context. That being away from home a few weeks after you move to a new home is pretty unsettling for a weeWeir. And that being awake until midnight one night will result in no problems the following night.

I learned that getting worked up by the lack of sleeping child is understandable but almost as futile as the lack of sleep itself. It's part of the process and next time, we'll try the car about three hours earlier in the process...

It would be easy to jump to a conclusion that we should never go away from home again, or never try and get the weeWeir to sleep in a strange bed. But that's not the real memory.

We had a great holiday and learned some new stuff about going away from home when you have a small person involved.

Have you ever been there? What are your memories telling you?

Tuesday, 19 October 2010

Reason for reaction

Isn't it interesting how our first reactions reveal a lot.

When I feel accused of something, or that I need to defend my position, it's normal that my reaction will be "no..." followed by a rationale, reasons or circumstances that at extra context to the actions or words I feel are being confronted.

It's almost like I am looking for someone to blame. That it can't possibly be my fault. Or at least if it is then there's good reason (ahem: excuse!)

But so often the person we are dealing with is wrong. ;-p

How can we be gracious in our interactions? Or is that not important? Sometimes people aren't interested in a gracious, respectful conversation. Maybe that's not worth the effort.

Maybe there's a better way to respond, even when we are right. Maybe I should be more appreciative that people actually listen! Maybe there's room to say thank you for pointing that out.

Clearly there's a need to be truthful and honest. But there's a power in deferring to another out of respect and (dare I say) love.

Lots of questions today. Got any thoughts?

Blink is an interesting book on the topic too. Particularly about the source of our instant responses.

Thursday, 7 October 2010

Let's be honest, flickr, you don't really miss me do you?

I like  I think it's a great way to store, share and index images.  I like the way the site looks and (mostly) how it works.  I even paid for the pro version 18 months ago to get more sets and more storage.  Earlier this year my pro status expired and I haven't yet had the inclination to renew it.  I've not been taking that many pictures of late (which isn't the best, I'll admit) so I've not had much sense of urgency about it.  Lots of other things to be doing!

Every time I log in to I get a cheery greeting and a wee reminder to sign up.  But today I noticed something a little more awkward.

You can see the picture.

Let's be honest, flickr, it's not me you miss is it...?

Posted via email from theweir's posterous