The March of the Post-Christmas Penguins…

They say the eye cannot ignore RED - the primary colour of the spectrum that supersedes all other colour recognition, and the one that has most connotations of emotion from passion to anger to love. Despite this rainbow supremacy, however, having decorated the full panorama of our peripheral vision for so many weeks with its festive hues, you would imagine we would have had our fair share of red reminders as we exit Christmas? Controversially, however, it would seem not and, this week as I aim to resume some levels of BAU to my post-holiday day-to-day my attention has been drawn to the red-renewal in our streets as I consider ...what is it that conditions our hypnotic state towards the red sea of reductions, like the march of the penguins, as soon as the stores re-open from Boxing Day?

Now, unless I have spent the last 6 weeks in a parallel universe, my memories (or perhaps post traumatic stress) of shopping spontaneity have been wrapped-up in a sense of communal obligation, reluctance and relief that such crowd control is required just once a year. Yet, as reindeers give way to reductions, holly to half-price and Santa Claus to price slashing sales, it seems we are only too prepared to go through it all again, in the hope of the eternal bargain.

Even sub-zero temperatures are not enough to delay this mis-guided adventure and, as I watch midnight street crowds forming for a 10am store opening, I wonder ….what can possibly be of such value to warrant an 8-hour freezing street queue?

Indeed, what is it that merits the purchases dismissed before Christmas as not right to be suddenly perfect at half price ....or is there no end to what is considered the perfect money-saving spend?

So, as you consider your next best budget wok, the obligatory one of every colour palette polo shirts, or even next years Christmas cards at cut-price...is it perhaps worthwhile to first revisit last years sale stock pile before you truly see red in the red, and find that the only way into the black is through the January blues…

‘Til next time, Pandora

‘Twas the Night AFTER Christmas….

….when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse....which, to be frank, is no surprise if they too have been exposed to the same levels of excessive indulgence that has rendered the household completely motionless in less than 48 hours, with the exception perhaps of the drunken uncle in the armchair who musters an occasional hiccup as a result of too much seasonal sherry…

Yes, Christmas is indeed a time to be jolly but, despite my love for the festivities, after two short days of over indulgence I harbour a secret welcome for the return of normality and wonder ….what is it about the festive season that drives an obligatory urge to eat, drink and be merry without reason?

As soon as we step into the festive spirit, the discipline of our last 51 weeks is long forgotten and from the moment the family unites from Christmas Eve night there begins a steady flow of wine and a constant serving of buffet platters that, although seem like a nibble, are a magnet for 'seconds' and the cause of getting fatter.

Christmas morning is so wrapped in excitement we fail to notice the pre-breakfast enticement as we delve into chocs before 9 o’clock. At this stage it’s practically a shame not to pop open champagne and of course, so not to get too carried away with early morning alcohol, there is smoked salmon brunch to nicely whet our appetite for the pending 5 course lunch and, as we graze from soup to nuts, is constantly washed down with wine topped-up cups.

By the time the evening arrives we have consumed more calories than a full working week but, as we get ready for the arrival of festive visitors and not seen since last year relatives, I consider how much do we succumb to further indulgence only to (medicinally, of course) sustain joy and tolerance?

Come Boxing Day the white flag of surrender is desperate to be flown but is prevented by the seasonal duty to repeat the indulgence at someone else’s home and, as I prepare for yet more Christmas fayre, I wonder …..does the real preparation for our Christmas celebrations maybe require three weeks pre-Christmas starvation?

‘Til next time, Pandora

The Gift Whisperer…

I have to confess that Christmas is quite possibly my most favourite time of the year and, despite the commercial overdose that has sleigh bells ringing in our ears for weeks before the advent calendar is even on the wall, for me there is nothing more exciting than the countdown of the 12 days of Christmas as it leads every day more intrepidly towards the pinnacle of the perfect gift for the 25^th.

Getting gifts right, however, requires the acute skill of insight and, through intuitive listening, interprets random whisperings that in turn are guaranteed to unearth the hints that form the perfect presents. I'm not sure if this is a skill widely practised, or possessed, or if it has evolved from being somewhat Christmas obsessed...

As I think back on my own childhood memories, I recall the innocence of never quite knowing just how Santa Claus knew exactly what to bring on Christmas Day?

For many years we had a family tradition of writing our letters and sending them up the chimney in flames, later evolved to posting to an unknown address in Lapland and with age, as the secret of Santa was exposed as a myth, have still nurtured the secret to giving the perfect gift. Indeed, with hindsight, I wonder if perhaps the power of  this belief has in fact been the training for my gift-giving ESP?

But, for every moment of Christmas magic, there are non believers who are scrooges and cynics and, as I bestow my own gifts to friends and loved ones this year I wonder …have we simply become lethargic at being cathartic or is it just easier for some of us to carry the persona of being the Christmas moaner, rather than to be bothered to delight someone beloved….?

So, as one Christmas ends and a new year begins, think ahead for the next moments you’ll share with someone you care and remember, all it really takes is to be a good listener to become a Gift Whisperer, and you can light up their eyes with the perfect surprise....

‘Til next time, Pandora

Snowpocalypse Now….

Traditionally this would be a week where I would be celebrating the 12 days of Christmas in style, swapping my blackberry for cocktails with cranberry and replacing a busy schedule of meetings for one filled with season’s greetings. The pre-Christmas glee this year, however, has been replaced with pre-festive freeze and, as the travel chaos of European airport shut-down puts our holiday plans on ice I soon realise that having a visit from Santa this year will come at a very high ticket price, regardless if you have been naughty or nice….

In a world that is powered by science and technology that is capable of keeping us informed of news and events faster and faster, I wonder does anybody actually pay attention to the weather forecaster or have any plans to avoid such disaster?

Indeed, as I witness the typical frenzy of last minute shopping manic being rapidly replaced by non-flight departing panic I wonder ….are we any more prepared for handling snow and ice today than Captain Smith was at saving the Titanic?

As Christmas cheer gives way to non-Christmas fear, the airport elves maintain best efforts of joy with Christmas tunes melodised though the tannoy. But it is a sea of foil-wrapped bodies that are tucked under the airport Christmas trees this Christmas Eve and as another wave of cancelled flights begins, the message of peace and good will from hotels is one of regret there is no more room at the inn.

So, as turkeys roast and glasses toast, be sure you share pre-Christmas thoughts to those who remain stranded and lost and lets hope we thaw from the freeze before this New Year’s Eve….

‘Til next time, Pandora

The Ghost of Christmas Presence

We are all aware that there lies an importantly deep and meaningful reason behind the seasonal festivities of Christmas but, in today’s modern age, it is fair to say there is a growing tendency to be somewhat of a stranger to the story of the manger.

Christmas has gone super-sized and super early - choirs of carols serenade us from early November, trees and lights sparkle before its even December and, as I merrily check off the last of my Christmas shopping list, I wonder ....just how much and for how long have we been subliminally brainwashed on the things to buy to make this year the Christmas to remember?

Regardless of the increasing expense that accompanies the commercial bandwagon, however, the real joy of Christmas continues to be the joy of giving and, adding the finishing touches to my own seasonal offerings, I consider if perhaps our desire to spend is simply our inheritance from the Three Wise Men? ...I mean, just as the Three Kings crossed deserts far to offer gold frankincense and myrrh, has our religious reverence simply joined a modernised Holy Grail of retail, now Christmas-commoditised instead to consider it sold, buy without sense and always want more?

Undoubtedly our gifts play an  important role in peace and joy on Christmas morning but, as I package mine up to be ready for the tree on the 24th, I recall the memories I have had on many Christmases before and how my celebrations changed as I spent the holidays in other nations... 

...Yuletide in Europe eating late on Christmas Eve and waiting to January 5th to give and to receive. Sunshine and heat for Australian Christmas treats with barbies by the sea to use leftover turkey. And ringing in New Year in Spain away from the rain, with 12 bell-toll grapes to mark new year fate….

But this year its home where my memories will form and, as I place boxes and bows under the tree in anticipation of Santa’s apparition, I reflect on family and friends far away that won't share my day and I wonder…..what is it that would really make the perfect Christmas...opening their presents or sharing their presence?

 ‘Til next time, Pandora

Women on Top - Death of the Alpha Male?

As usual, the weeks preceding Christmas tend to be oversubscribed with too many things to do – work schedules are in over-drive with over-time to complete all of the things we won’t be doing from 23rd December, shopping lists over-indulge in goodwill to find good gifts to all men and social schedules overdose in over-eating and over-drinking through an endless chain of Christmas parties, only to be followed by over-compensating in painkillers (or regret) as we wish that it really was well and truly over….

This week I too have started this very Christmas crusade but as I get race-ready for the back-to-back marathon that will keep me always-on from dusk to dawn I wonder ….are we all equally as capable of being festive-effective or, when the seasonal stop watch is set to non-stop, is it prime betting odds that women will come out on top?

Transitioning from office floor to shop floor, the championship Christmas bout of email vs retail is a no-contest knock-out for the female. Multi-task trained to buy gifts galore, the female Christmas shopper swiftly weaves between stores and, within a matter of hours, has the challenge fully wrapped up and under the tree.

The adversaries of the advent, however, the belts and braces brigade result bruised from their crusade and, as I watch them searching in solitude to box their affection to perfection I wonder …. how is it possible that every yuletide year, the simple task of getting our gift right results as a ribbon-wrapped raffle as uncertain as marmite?

Balancing the boardroom with the bar, however, is a festive task our men embrace with a little more zest and, as we change from our trousers of decision making into something short and sequined I wonder….how much of this revived interest is related to the appearance of a little black dress? 

What would be traditionally considered as crossing the line during office time suddenly gets lost in the male non-rule book of Christmas time and, as eggnog and bubbles seasonally flow, our business men go where none should respectably go….the quest of morning-after regret office party mistletoe. Is it a life of TV cocoa and elasticated waists that makes our men forget boundaries when faced with a night of short hems and lace, or ...as we successfully climb the corporate ladder with each step we take do we need the same caution on the seasonal social ladder not to land on a snake?

So, as I look forward to the magic of Christmas, I wonder …is the real reason for the Christmas season a Darwinian dilemma that Santa stamina has just 24 hours to keep up, or is it Mrs Claus that is actually on top?

 ‘Til next time, Pandora

Wish You Were Here…

This weekend I was tasked with the arduous chore of après-voyage luggage laundry - the one that separates the worns and washing from the wardrobe replenishing and that repacks the clean and pristine, ready for another week on the corporate machine. Due to sheer practice, it could be said that I have evolved the order of a suitcase to championship status but, as I swap out the old and begin the refold, even I have to question my relentless urge to add increase my carriage, and how much of the ‘in-case’ will actually ever leave my case?

Regardless, however, of what I pack to depart my roller case is guaranteed to return more like a shopping cart and, like many, the one item that is never missed from any of my trips is the prized possession that maps every new destination - the treasured tat of the souvenir fridge magnet...

Unwrapping the trinket tackiness from my packing always makes me grin because this travel acquisition has come to represent a sibling competition and, as I add my latest magnetic force to the family fridge door, I reflect on what each one means on our life experience and I wonder ...as we travel and wander what can really be caught on camera, or what are the true moments of magic that make us truly nostalgic?

For each of us our memories are diverse from our places traversed and as much as we aim to capture our memories and moments in our presents and photos...for me, my most cherished times are defined by the things that I find. 

My passage to India recalls strong colours and noise with crazy cars giving way to sacred cows.

In Thailand I found peace and enchantment with a humbling memory of trekking with elephants.

Manila, perhaps a surprise, embodies art and style but every perfect moment is caught in a smile and where, whether from wealth to poverty, kindness is coveted.

New York will always have my heart, for the pace and the pie, fab yellow cabs and just reaching the sky. In Europe its Rome that I would happily call home, fashion with passion that speaks con i gesti and embodies divertimenti.

And I have had many moments of wonder when travelling down under, from Sydney to Perth saw all of Australia’s worth, but my most treasured embrace was the huge sense of space and I recall the hours on a beach with infinite reach.

.....and my thoughts could go on but, as I explore the well-journeyed fridge door, I consider how quickly we allow to get lost are our memories and thoughts and wonder ....can they be truly endorsed by this magnetic force or how do we ensure we don't lose this hidden treasure, and perfect our connection with our best recollections?

'Til next time, Pandora

Elementary, My Dear Watson...

This week has been one of the fortunate weeks of my schedule than combines far-away travel with travail, taking me to one of my most coveted locations in Asia. If I consider all of the places I am so fortunate to visit, there is simply nothing more terrific than working from the Pacific - unless of course your journey has also replaced unexpected snow time with well respected sunshine…

Travelling to work in a completely opposite time zone, however, has challenges of its own and, as my working days flip to working nights and the minutes of my wall clock tick in reverse to my body clock, I find myself falling into a deeper non-sleep that has lost all concept of time and any ability to unwind.

Feeling appeased at my ease to avoid the big freeze, it would appear however that by escaping one set of elements I am now faced with the need to embrace another. My inability to rest presents a new elementary quest and, as I fall deep in the trap of insomnia iniquity I wonder ....how long it will be before I re-discover tranquillity?

In an effort to break the cycle of insomnia, I embark on a journey of the Chi that uses the Five Elements as the perfect sleep defence and where the daily design of your element sign promises relaxation through yin-yang harmonisation.

Day One I am told my element is Earth – a sign of peace and harmony, I am at my best at night and dislike the cold...Impressed, I undress to de-stress, once the story told the massage is sold!

Day Two it seems my element is now Fire – charismatic and loyal with a skill to inspire, still at my best by night I'm told I have vision and insight but , as I get ready once more for my yin and yang to restore, I am how desperate to know if sleep is to follow....  

Day Three, the clock chimes nine for my back-to-front breakfast time - as I proceed outdoors to have tea in thirty degrees I am now much too tired to even try to be inspired...

So, as I bask in the bright light of what is in fact night, I think back on my luck at escaping the snow and rain and I wonder ...am I in fact proof of the paradoxical refrain or is it indeed true that for every pleasure there is pain?

'Til next time, Pandora

Blowing Hot and Cold – Symptoms of the Travel Menopause

As exhausting as it sometimes is to be on the non-stop traverse of transatlantic flights, there is nothing more exhilarating than knowing that you are embarking on a journey to somewhere new or to somewhere warmer than from where you have left. This week I have done just that, escaping the onslaught of Europe's snow and ice to touch down in Asia Pacific, guaranteed to be sunny and nice.

There are challenges to be faced, however, with the trek for higher temperatures, starting not least when departing in multiple cold-defying layers. Admittedly arriving clad out in wool doesn’t bode well by a pool but, when crossing continents from storm to warm, there is no easy transition from ugg boots to swim suit. As I await my connecting plane to transport me from the rain I wonder if perhaps I have been somewhat zealous in my cold weather dress as during my wait between flights I suffer the onset of a temperature plight and need to peel off in a rush as I endure another hot flush.

Ironically, for the corporate traveller, the global 9-5 may indeed follow the sun but, as we cross office time zones, it can be the one element that we see least of.

Amidst the drag of jetlag there is nothing more rewarding than a morning in the sunshine but there are perils to be suffered for the joys of working in a sunnier clime and, as the rays start my day and beckons breakfast in bikini, I wonder ...how can it be easier to survive the harshest of cold spells without falling unwell yet, once in the sun, to suffer the sneezes from the slightest of breezes?

As a self confessed heat-freak I am not one to get a thrill from the new winter chill and although at home I am accustomed to layering up from the big freeze I am quick to maintain my climate control as we retreat from the cold of the Poles. It is when travelling abroad that I am hit most hard for, whilst outside its hot, inside its not and chilling by the poolside by day can quite literally mean really chilling by your bedside by night.

So, as I find myself turning off my fan to keep warm in my tan, I wonder ....just how do we cater when placed closer to the Equator? Can a nation truly adjust to a new destination without some pre-conditioning to handle the air-conditioning or is the rush of the hot flush the first cause of travel menopause?

'Til next time, Pandora