To borrow a phrase - I can't stand the rain

It's raining in Melbourne. It's been raining solidly for the last couple of days. Apparentlly we've received our monthly rainfall in a couple of days. I forget which month. It's a bit wearing, travelling around, hauling umbrellas, avoiding others' umbrellas, being constantly damp, managing frizzy hair, but it's been lovely to see the grass green again.

I've been persisting with my daily walk. The trains and trams are so stuffy and humid that it's actually nicer to be out in the air, even if you are a bit damp and your hair has turned into a fuzz ball. In one spot where I walk there is a glorious stand of eucalyptus trees. I pause to take in the scent. I also notice the bubbles forming on the puddles and feel sorry for the people trapped in their cars, lined up and going no where.

I've been puzzled by the people I've seen hunched over, as if they are making themselves so small, they would fit between the raindrops. In one hand they clutch an umbrella. Why don't they open it and take shelter?

Umbrellas are particularly hazardous when boarding and alighting from trains and trams. I was nearly stabbed to death by a small Asian woman who suddenly changed direction while we waited to touch off our mykis on the way out of the station. I stood very still and she looked terrified.

All the floors are slippery and I walk like a 90 year-old woman everywhere I see a smooth service. Since my fall last year, I'm acutely aware of how a simple fall can cause serious injury. I'm constantly surprised by how many walking surfaces are completely unsuited to wet weather and rushing crowds of people.

This morning's commute was chaotic. Power failures further down the line meant cancellations and delays. As the train pulled into the station 15 minutes late, the windows were dark with crowds inside and fogged with all their breathing. I insinuated myself into an inadequate space, having already let one train pass. I held onto an overhead railing at an angle just wrong enough to make me feel discombobulated when I finally arrived at my destination.

Coming home a woman asked whether station announcements are made on the train.

"Sometimes," I told her. "If you're lucky, they might even be accurate."

She looked at me like I was some kind of zealot.

Soon the voice of Metro trains announced that the next station was Seddon. It wasn't. It was South Kensington. Only two stops out. The woman looked at me with mistrust when I told her where to get off. The train, I mean. I shrugged. She could trust me - a stranger on a train - or she could trust the disembodied, malfunctioning woman with the voice. Or she could look out the window and see the name of the station.

It's nice to arrive home to a dry place; although I'm slightly nervous that the unattended hole in the ceiling will soon prove to be catastrophic.

As I settle in to watch Survivor tonight, I'm reminded to be glad that I'm not camping on a beach, even if I was in the running to win a million dollars. Or in north Queensland waiting for the cyclone to arrive.

How do you feel about rain?

What I'm saying "thank you" for this week.

This morning I woke up at 5am, forty-five minutes before my alarm was set to go off. I'm grateful because it gave me time to wash my hair and still be at work on time. I felt better about myself today.

Thank you.

A participant in the program I have been facilitating this week, bowled up to me at the end of the two days, looked in my eyes, smiled and told me that I had really inspired him.

Thank you.

Another participant told me that he had realised that he has been badly behaved at work. He also told me that his behaviour had been bad for 40 years and no one had ever told him. He told me that he now knows he needs to change. He told me he needs help because he doesn't know how to make the change. I felt privileged to be the person he confided in. I had thought he would be difficult to deal with, but I had really enjoyed his participation. I told him so.

Thank you.

I was to meet a friend who is visiting Melbourne this evening. He received an invitation relevant to the conference he's here attending and had to change our plans. We're meeting tomorrow for lunch. I'll be much fresher and awake! (I'm very tired this evening.) I now get a bonus early night and still get to see my friend.

Thank you.

Listening to the story of a boy who fled Afghanistan at the age of 14 after his father was murdered and spent a year in immigration detention on Christmas Island, I thought about what I was doing when I was fourteen. I was at school. I was starring in the school musical. I was playing music. I was reading novels. I was hanging out with friends and writing letters to my pen pals. I don't think I would have been able travel alone to the other side of the planet and start a new life. This boy is now vice captain at his school and is relishing the opportunity he has to sit exams.

Thank you.

Lastly, I'm grateful for Survivor. Last night was sensational viewing in the Beauty, Brawn and Brains season. The show gave me a point of connection with one of the less engaged participants at today's workshop. I also had a fabulous debrief on the phone afterwards with one of my friends. (For the record, Cass did her dash last night and LJ is very nice to have around.)

Thank you.

And lastly, always, thank you for the music. This week I've been listening to Max Richter's The Four Seasons Recomposed and The Fray's album "Helios".


What are you saying "thank you" for this week?

Survivor - leadership study on a Saturday afternoon.

I'm hooked on the television show, "Survivor".  It's the 25th series, but I've never watched it before.  Now that I've discovered the show, I'm not sure how I've been oblivious.

This season is set in the Philippines and life is hard.  The setting is beautiful, but the rain is consistent, the food is basic and the challenges are physically tough.

I happened to turn on the television last Saturday afternoon and the first episode of the season was on, followed immediately by the second episode.  I quickly became absorbed.  It was great study for the leadership and team work that I am currently facilitating with some clients.

I watched as people who clearly wanted to be leaders, pretended that they didn't want to take on that role.  They then turned into the worst kind of autocrat, bossing around their fellow tribe members and barking orders with the expectation of no consultation.  It was interesting to watch the reactions of the people being bossed.  They disengaged and started to plot the demise of their resident dictator.  It was clear from their comments that they felt disrespected and undervalued.

Equally interesting was seeing people who carry leadership with them just by the way they are in the group.  They don't assert authority but they win respect by engaging with the people around them, being diligent in their work and contributing positively to the welfare of the group.  They become seen as leaders by the group.  This is what I call informal leadership - there's no formal designation, but a person can still be the leader.

I was recently working with a group of people who are seen by the business as being in leadership positions.  Interestingly, the people themselves did not see themselves as being in leadership positions, or as having any leadership responsibility.  They were leading projects and agendas rather than a specific team of people.  They didn't accept the idea of informal leadership and railed against the idea of being leaders at all.

Ironically, one of them raised "Survivor" as a leadership example.  They talked about the scheming and political aspect where people are often lying to each other because ultimately "Survivor" is a game which requires players to work with their fellow tribe members to build a world, while plotting and scheming to be the last person standing.   They used this idea of selfishness to justify their views that openness and honesty are not requirements of leadership.

I despaired.  The ultimate end of this argument is that they see their workplace as being a brutal, winner takes all environment.  I have no doubt that many places are like this, but I know that's not the current reality at this place.

Anyway, I'm keen to see more of "Survivor" and what happens when the numbers reduce even further.  One tribe has already been decimated with the remaining two players, Malcolm (swoon) and Denise being merged into the other two tribes.  Joining an already established group can be tricky and it's been interesting to see the delicate dance as people check each other out, trying to determine whether they are a friend or a threat and determining allegiance.

I think this is what's so addictive.  We are all doing this kind of thing everyday.  Watching a group of people in a pressured environment is fascinating.  I can't believe I have missed twenty four years of this study!