understanding patterns; connecting dots

When we lived in Brunswick we had a huge family room with polished floor boards and sliding glass doors that opened up into the backyard. One day nearly twenty years ago I sat in a rocking chair near the open back door pondering what I would call my new business. I now have a much better understanding of my vocational contribution (see my LinkedIn profile ) but even then I knew that my work, while unobtrusive, if deployed effectively could result in significant shifts for people. So on that afternoon nearly two decades ago, as the afternoon air ruffled the curtains I had a "katching" moment ... my business would be called Breeze. Often unseen, typically refreshing and yet if harnessed could result in profound changes. So Breeze People Development was born. A couple of years later when I started making a few dollars I had to create a proper business structure and so the trustee company we set up, that remains my key business entity today, was christened Temuka Breeze, a...

The most enjoyable steak I ever had was 10 years ago at a C grade restaurant (Country Comfort Motor Inn) in Coffs Harbour. The Scotch Fillet itself was surprisingly good, but what made it so savoured was what had happened in the two hours preceding. It was the first time we had towed our old caravan north. And in those days it was the trusty GQ Patrol so it was real towing; not the namby pamby stuff I do these days. Having made it to Port Macquarie we decided to push on to Coffs to make the next day's travel to Brunswick Heads a bit easier. It wasn't a great decision. It drizzled making the visibility in the dark pretty bad. And the Pacific Highway was a disgraceful approximation to a national highway with pot holes, undulating surfaces and rough shoulders. On one memorable stretch I ended up off the side of the road to save the life of a fool who overtook us into the path of an on coming truck. My heart didn't slow down from then until we turned off the engine in Coff...

I rekindled my love affair with the north bound lanes of the Hume Freeway today. I awoke earlier than I wanted with childlike excitement for what has become one of my favourite days of the year - July in Byron Bay departure day. In the years we lived and worked for three months of the year in our caravan on the northern NSW coast, the excursion from Brunswick northbound held such deep joy. I developed an irrational love of roadhouses and monotonous bitumen because of what they they symbolised. Today I was on my own and apart from the pain of navigating peak hour traffic up the Princes Freeway and around the Western Ring Round, the trip up as far as Holbrook was defined by frigid outside temperatures (at Oliver's coffee stop at Wallan my weather app confirmed 'feels like 0') and heavy drizzle.  But in my warm drivers seat with Spotify's Aussie Rock Classics on loud - I was laughin'.  Then later in the day as the roads dried, I sought out the old travel...

This post the last in a series where I'm recording the appreciative thoughts and emotions associated with various spaces in our house. For context, read my post  Thinking about houses . Salt water soaked skin, dust on our shoes, dirt under our fingernails, sand between our toes, sun warmed bodies. This space is the magic door that transforms us from urban life to the well cliched 'great outdoors'. In a past life I had an insatiable appetite for philosophy; keen to understand how we make sense of the world. In that season I read some French philosophy that described the difference between idols and icons in religious practice. Idols, as the argument goes, are essentially mirrors; they act as reflections of our own desires and pathological longings. Icons, on the other hand are 'doors'; they open us up to realities beyond themselves. I found that very helpful, and even though I hadn't thought about it for decades, I recalled it just now when I conside...

This post is part of a series where I'm recording the appreciative thoughts and emotions associated with various spaces in our house. For context, read my post  Thinking about houses . And just like that, winter comes and Friday night means you light the fire.  In A Timeless Way of Building , Christopher Alexander explains and illustrates how there are two things that cry out to be 'resolved' by good design in living spaces. Firstly, people are drawn to the light. Secondly, we want to be comfortable in whatever position gives as best access to that light. Think bay windows. In the house we rented around the corner, the main bedroom was a classic example of poor design. The only natural light was a high narrow window. In that room we experienced what Alexander describes as unresolved tension between our natural inclinations and what the design facilitates. In contract, this room draws us to the light and offers comfort. In Alexander's world, such a ...

This post is part of a series where I'm recording the appreciative thoughts and emotions associated with various spaces in our house. For context, read my post  Thinking about houses . In Myers Briggs Type theory, healthy psychological development means a natural tendency in middle age to take up activity that 'balances' our primary strengths. My dominant vocational contribution has been people oriented and conceptual in nature. So in hindsight, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that around 40 years old I became really interested in making stuff in the kitchen. For me it started with ginger beer. It became a Saturday morning ritual to concoct and bottle the family's weekly supply in a collection of Grolsch swing top stubbies. Then it was bread. And soon ginger beer gave way to my own home brew, with experiments in multiple varieties until Maria became tired of the constant yeasty smell that permeated the house. But all that was preparatory. On one memorable day...

This post is part of a series where I'm recording the appreciative thoughts and emotions associated with various spaces in our house. For context, read my post  Thinking about houses . In 2009, one of the first events held at donkey wheel house was an unconference called Trampoline  organised and hosted by my mates Pat Allan , Melina Chan and Steve Hopkins . I attended a session by Dan Donahoo  with whom I would also become friends. Dan's session was on the curious idea of 'edge theory'. In psychology, edge theory is about anxiety inducing situations, but at Trampoline, Dan talked about transitions. I started to see 'edges' as points of transition. Where the sea meets the sand on a beach, a transition from one environment to a completely different one. The edge of a cliff, a transition from safety and stability to one of free-fall and either danger or adventure depending on your intentions. And it opened my eyes to the way architects design transi...