Classic Transformation

Latin and Greek are subjects rarely studied in schools now. So I was lucky to have the unique experience of studying the Classics, and it changed me as much as any other experience in my life.

When I left my secondary school at 13, I was quite wayward - in Dutch they would say I was "eigenwijs", which loosely translated tells that if the world was directing me to the right, I took the road to the left. My parents wondered whether I would respond to the greater discipline of the more serious and academically-focused grammar school which I had the chance to transfer to. Luckily, they came to conclusion that I would handle it somehow.

It was a good decision, largely because the school offered Latin and Greek, taught by the timeless Classics master Mr Watson-Wemyss. His second name is pronounced 'Weems' - in the past it was 'classy' to have such a double-barrelled name with part of it pronounced completely differently to the way to it was written. It seemed absolutely appropriate for the pipe-smoking pedagogue whose tweed-suited appearance was a modern day throwback to Sherlock Holmes.

Subjects like Physics, Chemistry, History and Geography totally passed me by, as I cheated through exams, caused trouble in class and did no homework due to the ever-perplexing questions I threw at myself such as "what on earth am I going to do with knowledge about Sheep-Farming in Holland?". I remember coming home one Friday and complaining to my parents that we had spent a whole 2-hour lesson in Physics heating up the same piece of metal in 4 different ways and measuring the results - what was the point? My Dad, an engineer by study, tried to explain the concept of understanding stresses on metal and the value of this knowledge but the whole thing left me cold.

In contrast, Latin and Greek did it for me. The concept of de-ciphering these ancient and barely studied codes was fascinating for some part of my curious and slightly bored head, and the subjects were undoubtedly enhanced by the enigmatic Watson-Wemyss. He would enter the class calmly, take his pipe and empty it by tapping the pipe-bowl against his heel into the rubbish bin, fill it lovingly with shag tobacco, light it, puff away for 10-15 seconds, blow a plume of smoke in the general direction of the aether, and after this 3 minute ritual would suggest "a little Thucidydes today?" as if we helpless pubescants had a choice. Marvellous.

Of course, passive smoking had not been invented in the early-80's. The concept of a teacher smoking in class now is unthinkable, but at the time I loved it. The pipe was part of his whole character which exuded classic style and higher purpose. I had the feeling that this was a teacher who knew something more than me and who could help me step forward as a person in a way that no other teacher made me feel before.

At the age of 14, I sat in Greek class with Neil MacDonald (now a Chess Grand Master), Nicholas White (now a Grammy nominated composer and Organist, living in New York) and Stephen Sorrell (what on earth became of him?). German and French lessons were populated with 30 kids per class, but we had this unique little group of oddballs who were steered towards Oxford University by our eccentric and Oxford-educated teacher. Sitting in the tiny brick room on the top floor, calmed by the pervasive pipe-nicotine, grappling with authors like Euripides and Cicero, Homer and Juvenal, was a life-forming experience.

At a certain moment, I turned from being an annoying and too-loud presence in the Physics and Geography class to becoming a serious-minded young man with ambitions. The biggest influence on that was the concentration and focus of studying Latin and Greek. Being in the presence of this unique teacher and believing we were walking in the footsteps of serious scholars gave me a feeling of gravity and confidence that was missing until then. My "eigenwijs" nature was of course due to a lack of confidence and belief in myself. It was changed by doing something unusual and having what felt like an 'elevated' purpose.

Watson-Wemyss had an amazing track record of getting kids into Oxford University. Getting a place Oxford gave access to the highest level of Classics study possible, and his connections in the past clearly put some of the kids in good stead to get in. But his powers were waning by the time we applied. None of us got offered places in the winter of '84, and this was followed by disastrous 'A' Level results in summer '85. Neil somehow contrived to fail Latin, and Nick, Stephen and I got B's and C's when all of us were predicted to get A's.

I find it difficult to blame Watson-Wemyss - he made such a positive impact on my life and I will never forget it - but probably something went wrong in the way he prepared us for the exams. No matter, we all found our way and have had great lives since then (at least I hope so in Stephen's case. He certainly had the intelligence to do something great.) I guess the moral of that particular phase of life is clear - the result on paper is not so important as the result in character.

After failing to get into Oxford, I was influenced by another important person in my life, the father of a good friend who had taught Latin and Greek at University. He convinced me that the pursuit of the Classics was pointless in modern day life and that I should consider any of 4 different languages for the future - Chinese, Arabic, Japanese or Russian. The choice I made and why I made it is for another posting.

But for now, I keep the memory of making the transformation from wayward to purposeful, thanks to the influence of a study and a teacher, both of which changed my life.

The First 1%

As the drama continues to unfold for all my friends and colleagues, my mind turns away from the last 1% of my Canon life to the first 1% of the rest of my life. As I expect to live for 100 years more, that means the time between May 2009 and May 2010...

So what are the plans? It comes down to writing, running and travelling.

Some time ago, I wrote that if I knew it was all about to end now, the only thing I would regret is not taking six months off. Now it becomes a reality - it really is possible to take that time off, something I could only dream of when I wrote that. Dreams coming true brings responsibility, and I realise there are a few other things I really want to do, and must take the opportunity to make real.

Firstly, there is writing, something that has been on my mind for many years. I remember a conversation at University with my friend Jo Abson, who was taking a course in Creative Writing. She felt at the age of 20 and with limited experience, she had little to say. I remember thinking the same thing - I was interested in writing but felt I had done nothing worth writing about, had seen so little that I couldn't pass on any truth or creativity.

Now, 20 years on, it feels different. This international life and all the people I met from so many countries have had a massive influence on me and the way I see things. My opinions changed and broadened especially since leaving England 11 years ago. It feels there is something to talk about, to write about. And I found a great subject to focus on - the city I love, Amsterdam.

So the first 1% will be spent writing a book about Amsterdam, probably a combination of fact, fiction and recent history of the city.

Together with this is running. I previously have written about one of my heroes, Haruki Murakami and his combination of long distance running and writing. He inspired the next dream of mine which is to get fit while writing. I mean, really fit - run a marathon, weigh 20 kilos less, exercise every day, get my mind and body sharp and ready as I take on the days ahead.

Then the title of my blog alludes to the final part of the dream. It is called "CanontoCanberra" for a good reason, and that is because I want to go to Australia. I have heard so many positive things about the country, and it is a place I would never visit for a holiday considering how far it is to go. So I plan to go to Australia, stay in Sydney, work in a bar or a restaurant for some basic income, and just enjoy the life there for a few months.

(There is another sneaking part of me that wants to take the Trans-Siberian express from Moscow to Peking, which may also happen. I will explain about that another time.)

When I started writing this blog, my intention was to document the end of my time with Canon, the travels to Australia and the steps inbetween. The journey so far has been so dramatic, and I haven't moved a step away from Amsterdam. It's been full of unwanted but needed surprises, new and old friends and experiences, unexpected emotions and turmoil, and a feeling of general chaos and storm mixed with a feeling purpose and moving on and a knowledge that it is all leading somewhere great.

But there is so far to go. The last 1% is not even over, The first 1% is going to be amazing. Life is so surprising for me, an English boy who landed on his feet in the unbelievable world of Canon, gave everything and got so much back, and who takes all the experiences of 16 years with him to go on and write, run and travel.

"I look around at a beautiful life

I've been the upper side of down, I've been the inside of out

But we breathe,

We breathe." (Sterephonics, "Maybe Tomorrow")

The Final 1%

Today I agreed with management my leaving date. My last day with the company will be 29th April this year.

It has been a strange week as the reality of change really hits us all. Everyone is in the flow of having to make up their minds, and at the end of next week, the first people have to decide. Day by day over the following 3 weeks, the decisions will be made by almost 200 people - stay, or move to London. It will again be a dramatic period.

But for me, it is done already and I am glad for that. It is a huge relief to know the timeline.

Now I feel an amazing calm settle over me. It feels like 20 kilos just lifted off my shoulders. 16 years with this company will come to an end, while the next phase is open and anything is possible. The severance package leaves me with a window of time to do whatever I want. It's like a gift and a challenge all at the same time, as if somebody hands it over and says "here, have this - enough money to pay your bills for a couple of years - let's see what you can do!"

I met a friend, Mieke, recently. She started up her own training company after 8 years with Canon, and I was so impressed with the way she has gone about it. Developing people is what she is really passionate about and that part shines through. But she also realises that to be able to do what she cares about, she needs customers. Her approach to get customers is highly creative. I felt I could learn so much from her.

Also very clear was how her pure nature beamed out at me from inside, in a way I never fully saw in the office. She has always been a creative and connecting person with great ideas. But the confines of the corporate held her in check and now she is pushing all boundaries with confidence and huge enthusiasm. Seeing Mieke developing gave me hope and inspiration that maybe I am operating within my own capabilities. If I move beyond the boundaries, anything is truly possible. I want to shine too.

As I came to the realisation today that it is coming to an end, I sat quietly at home and calculated how long exactly I have worked for Canon, and how much is left. By 29th April, it will be approximately 836 weeks that I have worked. I have 8 weeks and 3 days left. That means 99% of my Canon life is done already, and the last 1% remains.

I plan to make the most of it, to connect with and support as many people as possible, and to make a memorable farewell party. It feels good to be moving on, and taking all of the memories and friendships along with me.

First steps towards the farewell speech

The last 8 days have been a further drama at my company, as we all received our comparative options - the salary offer to move to London, or leave the company and take the severance package. In my case, this has finally confirmed that I will not move to London, and will leave.

From the moment the word "London" was mentioned as a location for my job, I knew it would not be easy to answer the question "why not just move to London?" positively. However, given my 16 years of service, I felt that I should at least keep an open mind.

That came crashing down when I was given the offer. It made very clear what the management think of me and my contribution, and gave me no option but to leave the company.

In some ways I knew this would be coming, I knew that probably I would be leaving. But when it came to writing the official letter to confirm it, it hurt me more than I could ever have imagined. Thinking theoretically about an end is a very different thing to putting it down in black and white, and hitting the "send" button.

Explaining it today to my Japanese colleagues was maybe the hardest thing so far. I have worked with Japanese people for over 15 years and I know that they understand the value of a long-term relationship. Their culture is to build up knowledge over a long period of time with people in your company who you know for decades. Your development and theirs are inter-dependent, and they value continuity, long-term knowledge and experience more than many other cultures.

It is always a push-and-pull to balance the needs of a Japanese manufacturer and its European sales company. A factory and a market have completely different requirements. The skill to balance those two is elusive. Together with Product Management over the years, a couple of European colleagues and I have managed to build the trust and help to work on balancing those two. It has resulted in a mutual trust between myself and Product Management which I value at the highest level. Short-term, things can go wrong. But long-term, we make it work.

Now I had to tell them that I will no longer be working with them. I had to tell them some details of why - the contrast between the offer to go to London, and the very interesting severance package. If I didn't tell them why, they would feel that I had let them down and was not committed. When they heard the basic details of my offer, I saw on their faces real empathy and sadness on my behalf, and genuine disappointment for their own business because of the unwanted breaking of this long relationship. It was a profound moment which I will never forget.

As I sat in the lobby of our office, clearly distressed, a colleague saw me and spent time to talk it through with me, very calmly, and to give me the support I needed at that moment (thanks, Edwin - those few minutes helped a lot). My life in the company is made up of many such moments and great colleagues, every one remembered and every one important.

Now my mind turns to how I can handle a farewell speech. This week, when I have explained to others what I will do, it has been a battle to keep emotions in check. I want to be professional, and supportive to others. But explaining that an association consisting of 16 years of my life is coming to an end is just hard.

How on earth will I manage that final farewell? The answer is - it will be what it will be. If I am emotional, so be it. By leaving something old behind, it makes space for the new. Life opens up and I have the chance, thanks to the severance package, to do what I really want to do.

The details of those next steps are for a later posting. For now, I reflect on the support and care I have been given by my Japanese friends today, together with all the support given by many friends in the company during the last weeks. For once, I don't have enough words to say what it means to me - just that it is so incredibly appreciated.

Challenge and Controversy

At our company's Annual General Meeting, I was shocked to hear one presenter explain that he had been looking for speeches which would be appropriate to end the opening of the meeting and had actually considered the "I have a dream" speech from Martin Luther King. To think that anything so basic as a company could be compared to the Human Rights movement is incredible.

A more appropriate quotation from MLK came up from a great film I just saw, "Talk to Me".

"The ultimate test of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and of convenience, but where he stands in moments of challenge and of controversy."

In the last months, the people in our company faced the biggest moments of challenge and controversy that I can remember. When put under pressure, people's true character comes out. We now know who is able to handle convenience and comfort only, and who is able to handle challenge and controversy - we know certain people's character much better.

That knowledge is unfortunately not so helpful, because it has caused us to lose trust in certain people. On the other hand, better to know now who you can trust and who you have to be careful with.

It's good that the conclusion has come, and people can get to the next stage. They can stop putting the energy into the discussion about whether the decision itself is right, and turn their energy to the future and how to handle the consequences of the decision.

The strangest thing about the whole episode of re-location has been this. The issue is not with the decision itself, but the way it had been handled. The fact that people's lives have been disrupted is not the issue - people are able to take business decisions like adults, they know the world is changing around them. But when they are treated like children and given illogical reasons & unclear information, and they receive a blank face and a "we'll come back to you" when they ask questions - then they get angry.

It's all about how you react when the challenge and controversy comes. Those times tell you everything about the person you are dealing with.

Why Not Me?

When faced with changes ahead of us, many of my colleagues and I are having nervous moments about the future. Even though we have some time to go, if we don't move to London then our income from our company will probably stop within 6-8 months. When you look around the market, it is daunting prospect to be out there looking for a job. But it is not impossible.

A phrase I heard from a guy called Donny Deutsch, in a book titled "Often Wrong, Never in Doubt" recently came back to me. He always looked around at successful people and asked himself the question "Why Not Me?" What is so special about those people in good jobs, or having books published, or having great family and kids, or whatever it is you aspire to?

I believe a high level of Focus and Concentration can overcome many gaps in terms of talent. But there is one additional quality that strengthens those two in tough times - and that's confidence. We have to keep confidence in ourselves that we have qualities and skills, and the change in our work environment does not change our person.

People are worried about the job market, and it is fair to be concerned. But the world will continue to buy and sell things, and people will continue to move position, which means companies will still need people. There will be fewer jobs available, for sure, but there will still be jobs and customers. We just need to have the confidence to say every time we apply, "Somebody will get this job, Why Not Me?"

I am now considering setting up a Business Coaching company. When I talk to others about this, they say, quite rightly, it is a cut-throat market, and will only get tougher as the economy worsens. But I think to myself "there will be people who need coaching in these times, and somebody will match their service to those needs. There will be business to be done. Why Not Me?"

My aim will be to give the highest Focus and Concentration on the business I want to set up and the customers I want to serve, and do it with confidence, so that it IS me that gets the work.

One step closer to the beginning

In the last weeks, people from my company have been getting closer and closer. We got together for parties, drinks and talks over coffee more than ever. Maybe it is because we are getting closer to the end, and that means we get closer to the beginning.

I wrote before about how I see our place of work as a community. The people at the company and the relationships built there are, and always have been, far more important to me than sales results. This becomes even clearer as we get nearer to the start of the re-location.

There is no spoken reason for why we became closer in these last months, but we all know why. The time that we take for granted in our office together with people we like and respect is getting shorter, so we take it less for granted.

It could also be that we want to celebrate the friendships that have been made.

The odd thing is that this period has also caused some break-ups of friendships, as well as establishment of new ones. This is something I don't really understand but try to accept it as part of the stress being put on everyone.

I am also conscious that a reason we don't want to come to the end is because of a fear of the beginning. Starting up a career and network from zero is a scary thing, especially if it is forced upon you and not by choice. On the other hand, a beginning is a great opportunity for some. And thanks to so many online tools, we have a stronger chance than ever to stay connected to the people we care about.

It's a strange time.