The first thing you notice about the people of France is that they are so… well… French:

• Waiters ‘flamboit’ around crowded outdoor café tables
• Well dressed business people drop by patisseries on their way home to pick up their baguette, which then protrudes unashamedly
• Young women in summer dresses ride bikes purposefully but ordinarily around bustling streets
• French suave is apparently intentionally oblivious to the hazards of smoking
• Vesper riders abuse delivery van drivers as routine

In Melbourne this would be pretentious, in Paris this is life.

I have found myself searching for an adjective for this incredible city. It’s an ordinary word but I have landed on ‘great’. What does it take to be great?

1. substance and depth

2. uniqueness

3. longevity

It is a total brain strain to wander across the floors of Notre Dame and wonder, as Maria did out loud, about the stories of the people who have stepped on the same tiles over the 800 years since the Cathedral was built.

And although we are talking Italian rather than French, it was striking to see how ‘small’ the greatness of the Mona Lisa is. I was naively expecting a painting of greater proportions than the small canvas that greeted us. Greatness is not always big.

The French do ‘big’ without doing kitch. The scale and vision of the Lourve is breathtaking. The ‘density’ of the city, with its laneways and 6 storey buildings overwhelms the simple notion of a ¼ acre block to call home.

I have heard many people use emotive rather than descriptive words in reference to this city. Now I know why.

Remember the old phone gag;

“Is Mr Wall there?” [No], “Is Mrs Wall there?” [No]. “Well is Tommy Wall there?” [No]. “Are there any Walls there?” [No]. “So how does your roof stay up then?”

They give us shelter and warmth. They provide protection. We decorate them to make us feel better about the space they create. They give definition to the variety of spaces we live in. At best this allows us to function in a variety of ways. At worst, they promote misunderstanding by hiding reality or segregating.

Perhaps the most potent icon of the changes we experienced in the late 20^th Century is the Berlin Wall. Contrary to popular conception, it was the ‘free people’ of West Germany that were enclosed within its walls. Completely surrounded by East Germany, the Westerners found themselves trapped in a ‘free enclave’. One road out through the East German countryside connected them to the outside world. This accurate picture subversively helps to reframe the idea of separation.

I cannot imagine what it must have been like for Germans generally and Berliners particularly, so experience the collapse of the Wall. I recall tears welling up and the lump in my throat. I knew nothing and had not even sipped from the cup of segregation that defined so much of their lives.

Much of the Wall still stands. A small length is preserved untouched, most of it has become a canvas for Berlin’s thriving art community. Meandering along beside it in the hot sun, it is as good as impossible to imagine what this city must have been like just 20 years ago.

We still build Walls like this. Maybe not ones of steel reinforcement and concrete, but Walls none-the-less. They are the Walls that keep ‘otherness’ away from us. Our separateness feeds our misunderstanding so our prejudice snowballs. It is dangerous to try to cross over.

There are political divides - TV networks do well out of pitting tribal thought leaders against each other like legal cock fights. There are culture divides. Just walk around the city and observe the stereo-typical uniforms of the different tribes; executives, emos, indigenous people, retail workers and on and on. Age, race, economic status, gender …

So here is the point. It is not that we need a pseudo-homogenous society. How violating would that be? The point is that our lives could be so much richer if we were able to embrace diversity. Indifference might be replaced by curiosity. Misunderstanding by appreciation. Dislike by deep respect.

The parliament building spans the Spree (River) in Berlin. The modern glass buildings on either side of the river are joined design and by walkways. A great symbol if unification in contrast to a Wall.

Immersion experiences in which we suspend judgement and listen are much needed in our world. Without them, the safety and protection that some of our Walls apparently give us is illusionary.

More than once in recent months I have been in organisations where we have been talking about change. And, contrary to the conventional mantra, change for change’s sake being a good thing.

Sometimes, change for change’s sake is a good thing because we get stuck in ruts. What began as good habits, typically become behaviour patterns that are get well ingrained, which would not be a problem if the context and circumstances stayed the same as they were when the process or habit was born … but this is seldom the case. So, changing things just to break things up can help us see things differently and find new solutions to our current problems.

But sometimes change for change’s sake can be a good thing, even when things are ticking along well. In the next 6 weeks, we will have two members of our team at Ergo move on to new adventures. Plenty of pain. It will be sad and challenging to learn to work without them. But, change ushers in opportunity … always.

In the midst of change, and it happens to us, in us and around us constantly, the opportunities are there for the taking. In our case it will mean new people, new team dynamics, new skills, new possibilities … I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

And the opportunities are, of course, not just for those left behind … the doors that will open up for our colleagues who are leaving will expand their horizons and hopefully enrich their lives.

So, I wonder what changes lie around the corner this week … some we know are coming, others are unknown at tis stage. Lets hope we can grab the opportunities they bring to expand our lives, and not get held back by the realities that have passed on.

I started reading Michael Cooney’s piece in The Age yesterday with a degree of skepticism. The Japanese celebrate the 3^rd of the 3^rd and the 5^th of the 5^th as girls day and boys day respectively, which I had never really appreciated as a young not-so-culturally sensitive Aussie male. As if the kids don’t get enough attention already. So when Cooney’s headline suggested the Queen’s Birthday long weekend be replaced with a Kids Day, I thought he might have lost the plot.

Not so. The more I read, the more the idea warmed on me.

Apart from the list of honours that always headline the news on the Holiday there is nothing about the long weekend that is celebrated other than that it is a long weekend … The last before the long slog through until Melbourne Cup Day, at least in Melbourne. Now imagine a day that is focussed on the future.

Cooney suggests that the Federal Government could release a national report card on the state of schools; there could be prizes associated with investing in young people. He also other suggestions including making the traditional Collingwood v. Melbourne game a celebration of junior football.

What about young people holding some kind of summit? Imagine young people fronting TV and radio station broadcasts … there is so much that could be done that affirms our commitment to invest in and listen to the people who will shape our world tomorrow.

On a related note…

We’ve all heard of home schools. There are more and more parents choosing to educate their kids in integrated and more efficient ways outside the traditional system. A friend of mine used talk about work-schooling - bringing kids into workplaces to expose them to how business operates. I reckon this could be a great idea given the right environment and resources.

There are more creative and informed minds than mine when it comes to educating and affirming kids, although with four of my own that probably gives me some credibility. Bottom line, wouldn’t it be fantastic to figure out new ways to celebrate Australian youth and give them more opportunities to learn and develop.

Clichéd but true, our future is in their hands.

I was a late comer to The Waifs. Since discovering their music a couple of years ago their poetic tones have provided a welcome commentary on life. As I sit here in the foyer of a hotel, taxi drivers stand and chat, one wipes the dew off his car. Groups of men meet near the front door and then disappear toward vehicles, presumably off on one of those work conferences from which places like this secure a living. A bloke with an American accent sits down a few metres away and complains to his waiting colleague that he has been trying to deal with ‘4 billion emails’.

My favourite Waifs tune is called ‘Take it in’. The song moves from carefree delirium on Cable Beach (Broome) to the Melbourne weather. The song’s exhortation is to immerse ourselves in the beauty of the moments of life in which we find ourselves because ‘now is a time that will not come again’.

I actually love Monday mornings … which is pretty ‘un-Australian’ and I can see Sir Bob raise an eyebrow. I love the awakening of activity, the embracing of the possibilities of a new week. Time is the most precious resource we have, the tragedy of contemporary society is that we ‘spend it’. I find myself hoping and praying that all the activity around me is being invested wisely, that people are aware and become more aware, of the pervasive beauty and goodness. ‘Take it in’.

Yesterday in Melbourne was an absolute cracker for the first day of winter. Cloudless, totally still. My cup of Tetleys drained, I savoured time ‘on the edge of snooze’ on the deck with the afternoon sun warming my face … spectacular.

I wonder what this week will hold. Whatever comes, I will be looking to ‘take it in’.