For billions across the globe, the beginning of a new year is a time for renewal – renewal of health, renewal of hope, renewal of heart.
It is a time of refocusing on what can and should take priority.
Promises are made to oneself, to others. Purpose finds a way to eclipse understandable frustration, fatigue and often fear that creeps in as a year comes to ts conclusion. Turning the calendar to a new year seems to give permission to forgive, forget, and forge forward with greater energy, commitment and compassion…with a quiet prayer in heart that this fresh sense of spirit will endure in the months ahead, keeping personal aspirations, ambitions and affirmations buoyant, bold and befitting the gift of being able to begin again.
For tens of thousands of people across the UN world, be their involvement direct or indirect, this same spirit of ‘new year’ occurs not on January, bu in September, as the UN General Assembly takes over New York City. For over a week, global leaders of countries, corporations, institutions and ideologies come together to set the agenda for the global community. It is an invaluable time re-aligning operations, re-inspiring allies, re-positioning shared purpose, and where needed, reminding of what is shared. The UN GA programme is intense, in both areas of focus and individuals, messages and messengers capable of causing shock waves reaching far and wide. Not to mention logistical gridlock across one of the world’s most active international cities of commerce and politics.
And yet, for all of its pains of process, the UN GA remains an essential event on the calendar of not only global leaders of independent nations and corporations, but that of global idealists.
Why? Why does it matter?
Simply this: because idealists need to know they are not alone. In so many ways the UN GA acts not only as a call to action for the future, but a poignant confession of where we are today. As stated by HE Antonio Guterres, Secretary General of the United Nations in his Opening address of the 73rd United Nations General Assembly:
“Our world is suffering from a bad case of ‘Trust Deficit Disorder.’ People are feeling troubled and insecure. Trust is at a breaking point. Trust in national institutions. Trust among states. Trust in the rules-based global order. Within countries, people are losing faith in political establishments, polarization is on the rise and populism is on the march. Among countries, cooperation is less certain and more difficult. Divisions in our Security Council are stark. Trust in global governance is also fragile, as 21st-century challenges outpace 20th-century institutions and mindsets. We have never had a true system of global governance, much less a fully democratic one.”
Someone had to say it.
But stopping there is not an option. The future narrative must be one that allows us to rise about, to reach out to our better angels, reminding ourselves of the greater ‘why’, not getting caught up int eh ‘who’, or ‘how much’.
Which is why Guterres continues, and concludes, with,:
“Still, across many decades, we established solid foundations for international cooperation. We came together as united nations to build institutions, norms and rules to advance our shared interests. As our Secretary-General, Kofi Annan, once reminded us: “We share a common destiny. We can master it only if we face it together. And that, my friends, is why we have the United Nations. Our future rests on solidarity. We must repair broken trust. We must reinvigorate our multilateral project. And we must uphold dignity for one and for all.”
Sometimes, increasingly in these times, optimism and idealism can feel a quest beyond strength, beyond validity. Beyond individual credibility. Which is exactly why, 9 months into a year, the UN GA is such an important reboot of hope, bringing together people who seek to turn to our better angels, hushing the noise, even if for just a short while, to have idealism re-fed.
Because the reality is this – in our times of social (and unsocial) media connections and emojis of appreciation (or not), never have people felt more alone. The power of the UN GA is that it reaffirms a social network of a global community truly committed to, and hopeful for, a world where we actively, tirelessly, impatiently and unapologetically work for something greater than oneself. Where meeting a stranger in a hotel elevator allows for recognition that, whoever they are, they are here for the same shared purpose.
And whoever one is, their idealistic heart is not alone.
Two dates that have been burnt into the history books of our shared world.
Two lives, just one year apart in age, born worlds away from one another, working in worlds far from one another, taking their last breaths 7 days apart from one another, always, each day of their working lives, connected by one shared principle and one idealistic view on living an honourable life: service above self.
Like a flash of lightning during a dark storm, illuminating deep, daunting shades of grey through flashes of sharp, fresh silver, these two lives have broken open a worldwide build-up of emotion, of frustration, of quiet knowing yet deafening silence. As lightning does, its strike cuts through other noise, other distractions, widening the lens of ‘I’ to see vividly a wider ‘we’….in all of its stormy state.
First it was Kofi Annan, Secretary General of the United Nations from January 1997 to December 2006, at a time when global challenges were to be taken very, very personally. For his time, for his leadership, he and the UN were honoured as co-recipients of the 2001 Nobel Peace Prize.
Still, with an unshakable, undeniable honesty and profound sense of responsibility to shine the light on and act for those suffering, for all of his impact, he will be recognised for, inter alia, hos admission of failure of the UN system in two of the global community’s most damning conflicts. As stated by UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres at the UN’s memorial for the former, now late, SG,:
“Kofi Annan faced up to the grave errors made by the United Nations in the 1990s – in its response to the Rwanda Genocide and the Srebrenica killings – by shining a light inside the UN. The reports he commissioned aimed to make sure such terrible mistakes are never repeated, and set the international community on a new course in its response to mass atrocities.”
It is this show of weakness, not only strength, that will be a powerful, critical part of SG Annan’s legacy, the lessons he left behind, the immediate turn-up of the volume button that he not just inspired, but impatiently provoked, in others across the UN system, if not world.
And then, one week later, with the Gods of global guardianship unsure of how sustainably the world had learnt its lesson, word comes of the passing of US Senator John McCain. And again, the tears flowed. For many, they were for the departing of a man defined as a ‘hero’, a ‘maverick’, a ‘true patriot’, a ‘true American’. For millions others, across the US and world, tears fell for the departing of a symbol of genuine, determined, unselfish, often inexplicable desire, often defiant desire, to simply do the right thing. Ironically, as people processed how determination to do the right thing, despite the violence he faced personally, professionally and politically, it put a floodlight on the ease and unacceptable emphasis today to do the wrong thing – to fight for self and agenda rather than serve for all.
From the first moments of news breaking of John McCain’s having left us, for him the bells tolled. And towards him the words of praise flowed.
Interestingly at times, at almost all times, it felt as though people writing of him – politicians, personalities, everyday people – were channeling their inner Aaron Sorkin, their personal feelings of sadness and loss of idealism and realism, for whatever reason, unlocking the intense hope that existed for a return to same. An idealism and united patriotism now so deeply buried, yet in this moment they felt safety in their hearts and in their voices to express.David Axelrod, one of the US’s most refreshing and righting sources of wisdom said it perfectly when, in advance of John McCain’s funeral just yesterday, stated,:
“What strikes me about this is Senator McCain didn’t orchestrate a tribute to himself. He orchestrated a civic communion where we took it to revisit principles of who we are as a country, what politics should be about. The fact President Obama is speaking and President Bush is speaking, two vanquished opponents, but respectful opponents is enormously important, at this time in our country, when politics is so angry and polarized, to see former opponents, people of different parties stand-up and pay tribute to each other, I think is not about John McCain, it’s about what he believed about our country and so I’m looking forward to both presidents.”
And as stated by President Obama at his funeral,:
” After all, what better way to get a last laugh than to make George and I say nice things about him to a national audience. And most of all, it showed a largeness of spirit, an ability to see past differences in search of common ground.”
To continue to quote others in their salutes to John McCain would be an exhaustive, and unfair, exercise. These are not moments of competition, or comparison. They are moments of honouring, and honour.
As with the passing of Kofi Annan, trying to find words to say goodbye, and thank you, inspired people to dig deep, calling upon their better angels with a plea to be able to honour the moment, the man. And in doing so, for both, words evolved to become a global cry asking, demanding, we do more as citizens, as human beings, as people who have the ability to work for something bigger than ourselves.
With the passing of Kofi Annan and John McCain, the echo, the hope, is the same: that they leave in our hearts, minds, and actions a clear understanding that each day, each and every day, we are called and able to serve, we remember: it’s not about us.
And so in this moment, at a time when the world also lost one of is greatest songbirds, to both great men (and the songbird herself), I say a little prayer for you. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtBbyglq37E
In an increasingly ‘I‘-centric world, how heart-squeezing it is to see the global community living near and far step forward, swiftly and courageously, to protect the lives of others. Of strangers. Of youngsters. Because it is simply the right thing to do, and it must be done right now.
The moment: June 23rd, 2018.
The unnerving sight: a row of young boys’ bicycles lined up alongside the entrance to Chiang Rai’s now globally famous Tham Luang cave, fringed by the football shoes – small sized shoes – of boys aged between 11 and 17. Twelve pair, plus one, that of their assistant coach, he 25.
The fear: they are lost.
It was meant to be a brief, cooling, post-practice cave excursion in honour of one of the little lads’ birthday. Little did they know that monsoon rains would push them further and further back into the dark, cold, daunting cave network. Little did they know the world would be counting the minutes….hours…..days that would pass as they stood on a musty outcrop for a time they were unable to count.
10 days to be exact. Then and only then, over 4km of cave passage exploration later (with some stretches reaching deadly depths of 5m), the boys first sensed through warm scent in deep, cave darkness, and then through the glow of a diver’s search light. Joy, relief, prayers of thanks, were short lived. They were found, but they were not out.
How were these 13 boys, all unqualified divers, many unable to swim, going to be able to travel the 4+km of cave route through rising monsoon waters the colour of cold coffee? How would they survive the contours, the crevices, the cold, the enduring risk of claustrophobia-provoked panic? How could Mother Nature be so cruel?
The risks were real. The search alone put fears of failing into the flowing waters. There was no guarantee of even the most qualified of divers being able to make it through even just the search for the boys. And even if they were found, there was no guarantee they were still alive. Life and death were two extremes of a spectrum demanding second-by-second respect from all involved – trapped boys and search party specialist alike. The cocktail of faith and courage made for initial brave, bold attempts.
With prayers flowing and shrines rising outside the cave, across the Kingdom of Thailand, and across the world, the nation and world’s best and brightest began to gather, tanks and tools at the ready, at the entrance of the cave – a gateway to a complex network of passages now filling with the annual monsoon’s most threatening shows of force. Even the best of calculations were merely a hypothesis as the heavens poured down.
As windows of dry briefly opened, rescue teams set out. The fragility of the situation came back to all as fast and furiously as the monsoon flood rains as one of the rescue operations team – Former Thai navy Seal diver Saman Kunan – died on July 06th as exiting Tham Luang cave. Nothing, and no one, can and would be taken for granted.
On July 02nd when the boys were miraculously discovered alive on an elevated ledge deep within the cave, long waves of exhale of relief and gratitude spread through the cave pathway, stretching out to meet with Thai sunshine and tired families, and continue across the world. They were alive! But they were still trapped, with the rain water pouring into their severely limited space with its severely threatened oxygen supply. The journey out for just one of the boys would be a miracle. For thirteen? How? When? In what order?
The drama of the rescue is now a part of the modern history of the Kingdom, along with the life stories of a team of heroic divers, an international team of 18 including 13 from across the world and 5 from at home in Thailand. 13 boys, one by one by one, over the period of July 08th to 10th, returning home to their families to resume their lives with renewed hope.
At a time when our world has become increasingly closed to those needing homes, those needing hope, the rescue of these young boys proved that, when the call comes, from wherever, doing the right thing means doing it right now, right where needed. It is so easy in today’s day and age of quick reads, quick commentary and quick clicks onto the next story. To forget why caring matters. To forget why stepping up and honouring what matters most keeps us connected in ways that social media and other platforms of quick-sharing can never do.
And as demonstrated with such quiet class and beauty, to forget that the story is not over until those precious final two words are conveyed.
You can only choose one thing. You have 30 seconds.
Now you have another two minutes. What’s the next thing you will choose? What’s the one thing you will choose? And then the next if you’re going to have to run, if you’re going to have to leave where you are and leave everything else behind.
Now pick another. You can choose three in total.
What about one more, but then that’s it.
Now you have to go.
Go!
You have no idea where you’re going. You have no idea where, how long you’ll be gone and you have no idea if you’re coming back, pick only four and now go.
That’s what it means to be a refugee. Only a fraction of it, but this is what it means to be a refugee. Soon this is all you will have. Four things. The first, the second, the third, and the fourth most important things that came to your mind.
You might never come back. You might never see the rest of your things again.
Ultimately, you need to choose and ultimately you have no idea where these choices will take you.
It may not be four. It may be more….it may be none. You never know.
What you do know is that you will be judged, you will be judged by what you are wearing. You will be judged by how you look. You will be judged by what you are carrying. You will judge be judged for the rest of your life, your qualifications, no longer matter. Your money no longer matters. Your status no longer matters. Your home no longer matters.
All you have is you and four things. What will you choose?
The things are one thing. What about the people?
Who will you leave with? Family? Friends? Stranger?
Who will you meet? Who will protect you while someone is trying to hurt you?
As the fates of time and place would have it, this #WorldRefugeeDay was spent in a refugee camp in Kenya – Kakuma – home to over 185,000 refugees from South Sudan, Ethiopia, Uganda, the DRC and other neighbouring nations. A field trip meant to be just a day turned into an unexpected overnight stay, with nothing but day-packs in hand. No toothbrushes, no soap, no water, no mosquito repellent despite the known severe outbreak of malaria, no mobile phone chargers, no change of clothes. Nothing. Just our IDs, our faith, and our evolving plan to travel in, stay, see, sleep, and somehow manage to drive out at dawn to a distant airport for return to Nairobi. We knew we were safe. We knew we were set to leave once in. Somehow we would figure out the essentials in between.
What are the essentials? What emerges as must-haves. What quickly and acutely comes to mind when there is no time to really comprehend the what next? And what if it all goes horribly wrong?
The experience was a tiny, tiny glimpse into how one’s mind has to work when working out how to move forward with so little of what is normally needed for smooth, safe, predictable and peaceful daily life. Blessed to be in a position of knowing when we would be back to our clean, secure creature comforts, adjusting to the baseline of needs for the brief time ahead was hardly traumatic. The day after tomorrow would be a day back to the familiarity of the real world – familiar faces, familiar places, a familiar fate.
But for tens of millions, tomorrow is an extension of the sudden uncertainty of today.
How does this happen? How is it that reality can change in a moment? From safety to tragedy. From comfort to fear. From comforted to completely alone.
There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that we did to influence the life into which we are born. And yet, for billions of people, lives seemingly a dream look down on the millions, literally millions, condemned to a life that is nothing short of a nightmare.
Whether caused by acts of God, acts of Mother Nature, or acts of angry men, today and every day millions run, having to choose, quickly, what they will take.
What can we give them? What do they need? it is not simply about money – throwing a few coins into a donation box while quickly passing by. The first gift of giving is compassion – looking a child, an adult, another, in the eyes with a genuine feeling of “I see you.”
And then reaching out a hand with a heart whispering the words “….and I will help you.”
World Refugee Day should never be just one day. Each and every day, everywhere, our hearts must remain open to those needing care, compassion, comfort. Because every day they are living lives of heroic courage and determination, despite the shunning looks and judgemental glares.
And because easily, so so easily, it could have been us.
What is it that causes a country, a world, to stop and watch as a fairytale comes to life?
What is it that still has the world talking, debating, awing, about the Royal Wedding of May 18th 2018, so many days after the day when HRH Prince Harry took as his bride an American divorcee – an act for which his great granduncle, King Edward VIII, was forced to abdicate the throne?
What allows us the pause our thought for a day and open our hearts?
What is it?
As the wash of the colour purple fades across the world, once again we are reminded that we, as a global community, sharing such often indescribable challenges around our core humanity, need hope and love and dreams to remain human.
The world will continue to watch, to evaluate, to analyse, to care…. because somehow, through it all, it keeps the world in touch with something positive, something hopeful, something bigger and better than the battles of global co-existence.
Because somehow it drip-feeds our need to dream. To love. To wish for better…for others. And to celebrate the simple joys of the heart.
Viewing parties took place across the world. global media watching closely in the lead-up to the big day for any details that may act as a keyhole into the big day inside the grandness of Windsor Castle. From carpeting to canapes, calligraphy to choir selections, puffs of detail filled the warm, sweet, slightly purple air around all things and everything Harry & Meghan.
It is impossible not to think of the royal wedding acting as a BandAid, helping some of the hurt that so many are feeling across the world as, through fiery people, politics, policies and pointed attacks on principles
As the day neared, with all of its family drama sadly unfolding in front of the world’s press (especially as opportunists crossed lines of decency to find a way into the story, either as the message or the messenger), the underlying values of the occasion shifted, forced to make way for the value of the occasion. Pricetags were confidently and creatively put on the big day. The cost of the ceremony. The cost of the flowers. The cost of security. And of course, the cost the much anticipated dress. All of these add up to amount that is being put into the ‘wedding of the year’.
And then there are the price tags of the purple glow surrounding the grand event: the money to be spend on memorabilia, by tourists travelling from near and far to be in Windsor and the UK per se, on the day, the money to be spent filling glass after glass of Prosecco from the first moments of arrival of the glittering guests of both Hollywood and British royalty. GBP 80 million, GBP 500 million, GBP 1.2 billion. The speculation around the economic impact was ever-inflating. A surge in spending was, however, absolutely clear. Likewise the surge in global interest, with viewership of the nuptials in the US morning reaching unprecedented levels, with over 29 million people watching in the early morning hours, no doubt in their PJs with bubbles in hand.
Was the buzz of royal wedding business as high as the royal wedding of Prince Harry’s brother, the heir to the throne? No, and it was never expected to be. History was being made, in a different way, at a different time, with different expressions of excitement and excess. Eight years back, on the April 29th, 2011 occasion of the marriage of HRH Prince William to his college sweetheart, now Princess Catherine, the official figures revealed that, according to PwC, “William and Kate’s wedding generated roughly £107 million ($145 million) in extra spending: Good for retailers, (and just) less than 4% of the amount spent in the UK on Black Friday, the busiest shopping day of the year.” This time around, the ‘I Do’s didn’t in terms of UK spend stimulation. But that does not reduce its worth at penny.
While in the moment the recent royal wedding may show lesser spend levels and no direct benefit to the UK’s tourism, retail or related economies, still, the value of the national interest cannot and should not be underestimated.
The royal wedding offered the UK, and the world, a pause to the problems of the day. It offered a time when people across the world, hearts across the world, were given permission to just sit back and breathe some fresh air. Conversations stretched for days around the simple things, tiny details of the day that had the world commenting, critiquing, complaining, and celebrating, the sometimes silly, superficial, sentimental.
That was the magic. It was the gift of the pause, The gift of the fresh air. The gift of the time knowingly spent being nothing but touched by the beauty of a moment – someone else’s moment. By the beauty of a commitment: stand by me.
It was just over 15 years ago when a little girl with a quiet dream set out to start her own little consulting business. It was not to be about size of business – buying a small island was never the goal. It was about working purposefully, living a labour of love, working only with clients adored. Having a vocation, not a profession.
From day one of deciding to leave a global consulting firm and go solo, one simple model was followed: actually one role model. Her name was Pam Golding.
Pam was easy to identify – she had in fact come into the life of this young dreamer through a pre-solo project that forever changed the course of her young career. At first Pam was a Stakeholder, selected by the former consulting firm from a short-list of business elites for her high profile, highly regarded, and hugely respected leadership within South Africa and Africa’s C-Suite community, a position of immense power achieved through her success at the helm of South Africa’s largest, most revered, most successful and most trusted property company – Pam Golding Properties (PGP). She was to be one-on-one interviewed at her company’s magnificent head offices, Monterey – a breathtaking old schoolhouse estate where peacocks roamed the rose gardens, antiques and artworks lined boardroom walls, wood and crystal combined to turn high ceilings, winding staircases and flowing banisters into settings for fairytales, silver service signalled teatime, and serious business unfolding all around released a respectful hush through the hallways.
For many, the thought of meeting Pam was a cocktail of excitement, intimidation, fantasy and fear. For this little girl, however, it was pure awe. Never will she – I – forget slowly driving up the driveway that first time, gravel slowly crunching under the tires as my car crawled in the direction indicated by the formally uniformed yet gently friendly security guards, suddenly stopping midway to simply stare at the way the sunlight was striking water falling like raindrops from a classic fountain in the centre of the parking grounds. Time slowed, softened. Detail magnified.
Arrival at Monterey was a process, an occasion, a series of precious steps. And then the moment of meeting occurred. Slow, almost thoughtful footsteps on polished, thick wooden floors announced the imminent arrival of greatness. Yet, despite her enormous reputation and achievement, her size was petite, her voice lyrical, her smile radiant, her handshake delicate, her stories enchanting…her hugs sincere.
From the first moment meeting the grand dame, I knew in my heart that this icon would forever be my embodiment of success. But not for the reasons one may think. Not at all.
It was not because of what Pam did – her being the founder and chairperson of a now globally reaching powerhouse in the housing market. Rather, it was about how she did it – always:
with grace,
with acumen,
with courage,
with poise,
with exceptional preparedness,
always,
being grateful,
being personal,
being presentable,
and always, always, being a lady.
In the presence of Pam one sat taller, spoke softer, thought more carefully, moved more gently, breathed more deeply, looked more closely, felt more grateful.
From that day on, and especially when I decided to go solo as a consultant, Pam Golding became my mind and heart’s true north. She became my client. She became my friend. On many occasions over the years, as our personal and professional lives danced, she became my confidante. My business took its name – Cachet – from an article title called out on the cover of an edition of PGP’s ‘Icon’ magazine. Its sound, its meaning and its source could not have been more perfect. Year after year my little business grew, I grew older, Pam grew increasingly close in thought, heart, and frequency of engagement. Every moment, every memory with Pam, left my heart smiling, deeply, quietly, so so very gratefully. Always, always, Pam was held dear as my embodiment of success. On the 10th anniversary of my business, it was she to whom I raised a class of Champagne, tearily saying ‘thank you‘ to her for showing me how to shape the business I had hoped for, pausing to celebrate her, her way – enjoying chilled Champagne at lunch time.
To this day when asked what has been the secret of success of my little business – a business now well into the 15th year, blessed with longevity and reach long past those first fragile dreams, spontaneously I always believe it to be this: etiquette.
That was Pam. That will always be the gift of Pam.
Pam’s example – her excellence, her gravitas, her grace, her sunshine, her style, will always be my heart’s true north. White roses will always be her reflection. Wisdom with a brightness of smile and sparkle in eye will always be her echo.
Always be ready. Always be thankful. Always be personal. And when in doubt, always wear the pearls.
My heart is crushed. Rest well, dear dear Pam. Rest loved. And thank you. xx
ANITA MENDIRATTA & Associates uses cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. For more information please see our Privacy Policy.
Close
