kindness

I come to Sydney dreading the three-day meeting ahead. The first day is OK, the second ho-hum. I have no official part in the proceedings, ask no questions, draw no attention to myself. The longer it goes, the less a part of it I feel.

Tonight we go out for dinner but I’d rather be alone in my room with a book. Sixteen of us sit down to table. I feel comfortable talking with half a dozen colleagues. None is anywhere near me. The three people opposite are my least likely interlocutors.

I should be kinder to my colleagues. They have been kind to me. The last exercise of today’s meeting involves each person putting their name on a piece of paper which is circulated for every other person to write an anonymous comment, positive of course, fold over and pass to the next person.They write.

“Great conversations and lovely to thrash out ideas with you!”

"I really enjoyed reading your year reflection, thanks. Well done, this has been a challenging year.”

“You are a really interesting man and I really enjoy our conversations together.”

“I love your socks.”

“So important to look after your physical well-being in a job like this. Keep up the walking.”

“Your quirky sense of humour is great. Keep up the odd socks.”

“Thanks for a warm welcome at the recognition event and words of wisdom.”

“Enjoy the work and non-work related chats.”

“Great to have another man on the team.”

“I like your glasses.”

“Quite calm and unassuming nature.”

“I like your socks and sandals.”

“I like your individuality, political persuasion and willingness to be part of an almost all gal team.”

“Calm, thoughtful and not afraid to be an individual.”

“You have incredible quads and knowledge of rail trails.”

I thank them for their kindness.

Rock on.