There was something odd about this morning. The sun was bright orange, low in the sky giving everything an artificially lighted eerie tinge. The early morning procession of international flights into Melbourne were unusually flying north over the eastern suburbs ahead of me as I drive out the freeway. Very odd. I’m hoping the forecast for more hot weather and strong winds is not doesn’t play out into more catastrophe for those in fire prone areas.

Last week was a frustrating one for me but it ended more positively. The turnaround reminded me of two thing about myself.

• Despite some really productive days, I had spent the whole week feeling like I was never catching up. You know that feeling of running away from something/someone in a dream … you can never run free. After being tired through the week, I took some time on Thursday to identify specifically what I could do that would ease the sense of not getting done what I felt I needed to. After dinner with the family, I sacrificed the evening and stuck at my desk until I had knocked off the two pieces of work that got me over the hump.

I know everyone is different, but for me this liberated my spirit significantly. Not only did it help me feel better about work and life, it also enabled me to focus properly on the work I had to do on the Friday, a full day workshop with a new client.

• Maria and I spent lots of time over the weekend talking and planning for a purchase we want to make. It also really lifted my spirits. Despite perhaps sounding like a case of consumer therapy, it was more an application of the ’spotted dog principle’. I don’t know what it’s properly called in psychological terms, but it goes like this: “Don’t think about a white dog with black spots!”

It is impossible not to think about a ‘white dog with black spots’. It is only possible to think about something else. A brown dog, a black cat or a skinny cafe latte for that matter.

When things are not quite right, as they weren’t for me last week, there are two things to be done; deal with that you can in relation to the problem, then find something else that is positive and give yourself a good injection of it.

So as you move into this week, I hope you can create the space to deal with anything at work that is not quite right, and then overlay that with some other things in life that lift your spirits.

I first went to Marios back in the mid-eighties after I had read about their coffee winning a ‘best in Melbourne’ competition. Apart from extraordinarily good quality coffee, with such a plethora of cafes across the city it is hard to imagine how you can be different without being odd. Marios does it.

The crisp white table clothes give an air of fine dining, yet you can only pay by cash. The table attendees flamboit around, not unlike their Parisian counterparts. This morning a woman wears traditional black pants, white shirt and black waistcoat, a male attendee wears black waistcoat, black shirt and bright pink tie. Every now and again when I come here I forget and ask for a skinny flat white: ‘we don’t do skinny’ is the matter of fact almost condescending reply. Over the years, Marios has resisted any pressure to evolve, they are what they are, their product is strong and they stick with the formula.

One of the great privileges I have had has been serving as a director of another organisation that has done the same, largely due to its CEO who has held the reigns through 25 formative years. At his farewell last Friday evening the recurring refrain from the many engaging speeches was that Steve Bradbury (no not that Steve Bradbury) had never compromised on a matter of principle. His fierce commitments to transformation, empowerment, advocacy and relief (TEAR) have forged a deserved reputation as a highly respected and effective leader. Some people would describe Steve as unreasonable, which reminds me of George Bernard Shaw’s famous quote, “All progress depends on the unreasonable man.”

One of the dimensions of Steve’s leadership, that I think has contributed to his effectiveness, has been his uncomplicated approach. In the field of international development, one could be excused for being distracted by the complexity. But Steve has been able to navigate a way through this via a clarity of outcomes and values that cut a determined path. Long before it became conventional wisdom, Steve believed that local communities in the developing world were the best ones to make decisions about what they need and how they should get it.

TEAR Australia’s constituency is predominantly church related. A number of years back, in order to connect with the growing number of TEAR supporters who were not involved in traditional church communities, Steve conceived of an idea to connect with them via the mainstream media. Originally educational in design, he created what is called ‘Arguably The World’s Most Useful Gift Catalogue.’ The idea was that instead of buying more ’stuff’ for people who already had enough, you could give to a small development project in lieu, and give the recipient a card saying as much. The rest as they say is history, almost every other development agency has copied Steve’s idea and there are now opportunities to purchase goats, school education, vaccinations and any number of other development related ‘gifts’ all over the place.

Steve Bradbury leaves his job as CEO of TEAR Australia with a legacy that leaders dream of. This post is part of me reminding myself that foundational dimensions of this contribution have been clarity of purpose which creates simplicity. There is so much ‘noise’, thankyou Steve for being a beacon of integrity.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about Australia being the ‘lucky country’. Although it remains so, I write this week with sense that the party is over. Below I list two realties that dominate this sense, both have come with tsunami-like force taking all in their path.

1. As I write I am flying over the worst floods in Queensland in decades. For extreme contrast, I have left behind what is being described as the worst peace-time disaster in Australia’s history … bushfires that became fire storms, taking whole towns as they roared through the state.

2. It seems everyone I talk to is experiencing ‘reduced head counts’ at work. The speed and severity of the economic spiral is frightening …

I lament the lost opportunities the government’s stimulus package represents. We got into this mess because we have been living beyond our means; how does putting more cash in people’s hands solve the problem? And what an extraordinary opportunity to invest in infrastructure for the future, in particular the new energy technologies that will both help us meet our obligations to reduce CO2 emissions and kick start a new economy. C’mon Kevin.

But front of mind today is the numbing loss associated with the fires. For the first time ever our family sat in the lounge room, gathered around the radio. As the disaster unfolded it was hard to stop listening to the emergency services network.

It had a strange eeriness for us because we had been in the area of one of the major blazes on Saturday as the drama developed. As we drove out back to Melbourne via detours not in place hours before, we witnessed the breakout of fires, flames just a couple of hundred metres from the road being fanned by the searing wind in 46 degree heat. . We were concerned for the 100 odd people at a wedding we left behind … but were relieved Sunday morning to hear they had been evacuated after playing the frightening game of waiting, while the smoke blackened skies and orange glow surrounded them.

Too real. Too close. But for many, too close became worse. Earlier this year I wrote an obituary piece for Sir Ebia Oleware who died suddenly … no one saw the great man’s end coming.

Over this last weekend, there were great people and great towns that met their end with sudden ferocity. Stories have begun to emerge of people who chose to stay and defend who saved their homes. But the dominant narrative seems to be that the rage of the flames made a mockery of the intention to fight. I wonder if the wisdom of staying to defend will come under question with already the loss of life over 100 people.

When you do a job like mine you spend a lot of time in Marysville. Ninety minutes from Melbourne via one of the great Australian drives through the Black Spur it was a mecca for Conference Centres, craft shops, cafes and holiday retreats. By Sunday afternoon Marysville was no more. The images of charred streets are numbing … how must it be for those that have lost loved ones, homes and memories?

It has made me rethink my understanding of resilience. I’ve thought of resilience being about resistance, being able to withstand the onslaughts life offers. But sometime what life offers cannot be withstood. ‘Tsunamis’ smash us. Perhaps resilience is about what we have that allows us to cultivate seeds of life that emerge from the rubble.

Like you I start this week with some important projects on my plate. To end the week like I hope to, I will need to stay disciplined and draw on some reserves that will help make some intelligent decisions.

But what will happen if I fail? What are the consequences if I have a mediocre week? What is at stake? There are times in business leadership when we are all too aware of the magnitude of a decision or a piece of work. But too often we navigate the complexities of leadership without the intensity that would come if we believed what we were doing really mattered.

Contrast this with the intensity of the tennis that many of us would have watched over the weekend. The hunger and mental toughness from the players in the finals has been palpable. But the enormity of the moment also wreaks havoc … just witness the difference in the way Federer plays Nadal compared with any other player. He is spooked by his nemesis.

Witness the contrast between the discipline of the Proteas in their demolition of the Australia’s cricket dominance, compared with the fluffing around from a team that not too long ago believed they could win a match from anywhere.

Our vocations ask from us the best mental and emotional energies we have. It is therefore crucial that we believe that the decisions we make and the effort we put in actually matter. We don’t have 20,000 people sitting in live judgement, and countless millions scrutinising our every move from their lounges like professional sports people do.  But imagine for a minute that we did.

I wonder if I would work differently. I wonder if I would be more careful, act with greater intensity and express more emotion when I ‘won a point.’

My point is not to suggest that the routines of our regular lives match the attention and glamour of professional sport … that would be a stretch. But I am suggesting that there is no reason our working lives shouldn’t be engaged with a belief that what we are doing matters, and that even though our every move is not televised, it would probably do us good to work as if it was.

Like me, mediocrity will probably not be good enough for you this week. Like me, if you do end up delivering an average performance, not too many people will know … or care. Transparency to the point of public scrutiny, even if it is imagined, will at least solicit from me an intensity to give it all I’ve got. And if what I am doing really does matter, the intensity to do well could make a significant difference.

My performance won’t make the front page of the paper, but if it did, what would they be saying about my attitude, actions and the way I overcame adversity? Hmmm.