Hi and welcome to my blog. I'm an American living in Sydney and working as a Coach, Trainer, Speaker and Writer. I specialise in helping people 'Reinvent Themselves', having done so myself both personally and professionally several times over.

I'm 48, divorced and having fun dating again (really for the first time).

I am a dedicated Ashtanga yoga practitioner and do a daily TM meditation. I've done lots of personal development and am a Senior Leader for Robbins Research Institute and a Master Neuro Strategist and NLP Practitioner through Steve Linder's, SRI Training. I'm also currently studying a Certificate in Strategic Intervention through the Robbins Madanes Training Institute.

I strive every day to incorporate what I gain on the yoga mat and the meditation cushion with what I learn from Tony, Steve, Cloe and all of the others within the Robbins and SRI communities with my very full on daily life. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail, but I always learn something. I hope that what I’m learning can help or at least entertain others.

Work Life

Thursday, September 17, 2009

16 September 2009, Down Country: Danang to Saigon

Danang to Saigon. It’s that time of day my friend Dave Holloway calls “super magic happy hour.” Dusk, when the light takes on a surreal quality and nothing is quite in focus. I don’t know if it was that or The Doors’ “Riders on the Storm” streaming from my iPod, but as I walked towards the plane and looked back towards what was one of the busiest airports in the world 40 years ago I could almost see the buzz of activity that was once Danang. The drone of the engines could have been mistaken for choppers taking off and landing. Ex Air Force myself, it didn’t take much for my imagination to run wild and see men decked out in flight suits signaling military planes. I could almost hear the pilots talking to the flight crews.

But no, I’m not hopping a transport down country. Just Vietnamese Airlines flight 327 to Ho Chi Minh City, no longer Saigon. The world has moved on.

I don’t think the Danang airport has though. I don’t think it’s been renovated since that Viet Cong tank broke through the gates of the Presidential Palace in April 1975. Dirty floors, hard plastic chairs, very cheap souvenirs lining every wall. Sparse does not describe it. Austere...does not describe it.

Free Wifi though, gotta love that! The world has, indeed, moved on. Neither of my uncles got to surf the net on their laptop, listening to their iPod while awaiting their flights to Saigon.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

15 September 2009, A Magical Night on China Beach, Part Deux

Okay, I’ve eaten and am completely sober. Although I still admit to enjoying the cheesy Karaoke act that’s happening on the terrace above me. I’ve moved to the big chaise lounges on the beach. I’m just a few feet from the ocean and have better Wifi than at home. Gotta love Australia. In many ways the most third world country I’ve ever visited.

Today truly does go down in history as one of the most perfect days. Diane...do you remember our perfect day in Napa all those years ago with the best Tomato soup we’ve ever had at the Moet winery? And that hot fudge sundae at the Italian restaurant after “Waiting to Exhale.” Was that the last time we saw each other???? Hard to believe!

I’m blessed to have had many perfect days and nights. The day with Diane, The night at the Palace with Irish Andrew, San Juan with Bones, the Native American sweat lodge with Tom the day were were supposed to get married, Lapham Peak with Mark, getting rained on and listening to the soundtrack of “Saturday Night Fever.” And many more that don’t spring to mind right now. Most were spent with other people. A few alone. This is one of those that was spent alone but is no less special.

Not only the hotel and China Beach.

I was picked up at 9AM by my driver and guide today. We drove 4 hours south through the mountains (spectacular scenery) to the ancient temples of My Son. I didn’t know why but I was just drawn there. I saw it in the guide book and knew I had to go. I’m sure I’ve seen the pictures before. 90% of the ruins were destroyed by the Americans during the war. Otherwise they would be even more incredible than Ankor Wat. But they didn’t mean anything to me relating to the war.

When I got there I understood. They were built by the Cham Pa people in around 700 AD. The Cham people came from India and these are ancient Hindu temples. Much more beautiful than anything I saw in India. But that probably has to do with the setting. It’s set in a valley with high mountains surrounding it. Lush, green, jungle. And birds! Very few birds in Vietnam. They are either killed for food or were killed to help prevent bird flew from spreading. But they are here in this protected area. I could feel the peace and serentity. I love my guide, but would have been grateful to be alone to meditate. I wish it was the early morning and it was just me with my yoga mat. I’m hoping the pics turned out as well as I think they did.

And with that I’m off to bed. It’s close to 10. I’m going to look at today’s pics and fall into a blissful sleep. Tomorrow I will post these myriad of entries that have been building up.

15 September, 2009, A Magical Night on China Beach

What a perfect night. Or it would be if I had someone to share it with. What is it about China Beach? It’s not even sunny out. Fairly cloudy and misty. But I was hooked as soon as I saw Hoi An, an ancient city about 30 Kilometers outside of Danang, which is a soul less city. Very industrial. Very austere. But Hoi An has an ancient flavour to it. Even with all of the tourist shops.

The city is built on a river which is, in itself, picturesque. I initially booked at the Indochine, for $32 / night US. But after last night’s experience I decided to upgrade. Only $100 US (off season) and I’m right on one of the most stunning beaches I’ve ever seen. What is it? Is it prettier than Hawaii? Cabo? Fiji? Phuket? Or any of the other wonderful beaches I’ve seen? I don’t know, there is just something about it. There’s an energy here. A calmness. So wonderful.

The resort, the Victoria Beach Resort is a 4 star, not a 5. But lovely! Perfect. Gorgeous open air reception. Beautifully pristine pool and wonderful bar / restaurant just meters away from the ocean. The sand is golden. Fishing boats dot the horizon. Mountains in the distance.

My room is wonderful. Jungle outlook but I can hear the ocean. Wooden floors, huge bathroom with a tub for two (she looks around...no, unfortunately no prospects). Large, airy, comfy bed.

But now I sit by the pool on a perfect perfect night. Nice balmy breeze blowing off of the ocean. I’m in a sleeveless dress and completely comfortable. I am so meant to live in the tropics. Except for the wild jungle hair!

As I type this I look out over the ocean and it’s dotted with lights! Bright lights on the horizon ringing the entire beach. Fishing boats I’m told. Crab and shrimp. Mmmm. I may have to enjoy some of their catch in a bit.

I’m listening to a rather loungy duo. He on a synth and she accompanying her. I’m sure I’d laugh at this music anywhere else. A bit too John Tesh for me. Oh here we go, a Bee Gee’s cover from the 70’s. But somehow it just makes the night even more perfect. Maybe it’s my second Singapore Sling. Who knows. All I know is that I’m blissfully happy sitting here in my sleeveless dress.

Okay, somehow we’ve morphed into “Freebird” (sung with a Vietnamese accent), but wait...somehow it goes incredibly well with “Baby I love your way.” And has me thinking of Mark Murphy. Whom I’ve been thinking about a lot recently for some reason. Must be my impending 30th reunion. BTW, if someone from Oconomowoc is reading this and actually knows where Mark Murphy is I’d love to reconnect with him.

But I digress, we’ve now moved on to the “Pina Colada” song...again sung with a Vietnamese accent. I shouldn’t be enjoying this so much!!!! Help, stop me! I think it’s time to stop drinking and start eating. More later.

15 September 2009, Get me outta here!!!!!

I seem to have two modes. 5 star luxury or camping. I’m just not a middle of the road kinda gal. I don’t mind roughing it. In fact I love it! But the trade off for ants in my bed is a tranquil natural setting, preferably where I awake to the sound of a waterfall. Not the incessant beeping of horns that is Asia. It’s actually quieter here than India, to be fair. And so much cleaner. And you rarely see men peeing against walls or along the side of the road (I did once yesterday on the highway.) But if I’m staying in a hotel I really do need something more luxurious. My bed was as hard as any Indian bed (luckily when I do sleep I can sleep anywhere on anything). The room was clean (no cockroaches thank god) but I did awake to an infestation of ants in both my bed and my computer (I spent an hour trying to exorsise them from my laptop....turns out they’re really not a fan of iTunes.)

Dinner last night looked completely unappetizing so I settled for a plate of noodles (tasted deliciously like the cheap Ramen we all used to eat at university) and vegetables. Breakfast this morning was a real treat! They did scramble me an egg and I had some bok choy which was done to perfection (just crispy enough), although cold when I ate it. Did they have it on ice? This is the tropics! Nothing is cold! The rest of the meal consisted of a surprisingly good crepe (with the most gelatinous substance known to man that tried to pass as strawberry jam) and coffee that more resembled mud. When I asked for milk they brought me a can and poured something into my cup that resembled white Karo Syrup. I declined any more quickly. Enough sugar though and I managed to get it down.

Today is a 4 hour car ride to My Son Ruins and then hopefully an upgrade to a 4 star beach resort on China Beach.

14 September, 2009, DMZ

Today I went somewhere I never in my life dreamed I’d go. The DMZ, demilitarized Zone. Yes, I used a Z (pronounced Zee not Zed), American spelling. For the DMZ was not a result of the American War, but certainly was at the heart of it. And it’s at the heart of many of my childhood memories as well.

I flew into Hue, an ancient city and once the capital of Vietnam completely enclosed by a citadel. I was met by a car and driver and we soon picked up a guide. Our destination? The DMZ and the Vinh Moc Tunnels. This is one of many, many tunnel systems that dot the Vietnamese countryside. It’s only 1 of 2 systems open the the public however. Vinh Moc is a little community just north of the 17th parallel, the DMZ. The Viet Cong used to come down the Ho Chi Minh Trail to Vinh Moc, go 28 KM’s to an island off of the coast and travel by sea down to S. Vietnam. It was the Ho Chi Minh trail by sea.

Vinh Moc was also the site of some of the worst bombing from the war. The American’s tried, unsuccessfully to cut off this route. The villagers decided that, instead of fleeing their home they would simply take it underground. Over 300 people lived in these tunnels for 6 years. 17 babies were born underground. It took 18 months to dig the tunnels by hand. The go down 23 meters. They were able to do this in secrecy because they are so close to the ocean. They could hide the dirt in the sea.

Vinh Moc was fascinating. The lengths people will go to! What they will endure if they have to.

The whole experience was surreal for me. It was so...well calm. Once almost completely barren from Napalm, the foliage has grown back or has been replanted with rubber or gum. Very few traces of American presence remain, bar a rusted out tank or the occasional jeep sporting “USMC” on its back bumper (have the repainted them or are they really that resilient in this tropical humidity that claims most things, including my hair.

The only marker is a small, unassuming one announcing the “Historical Relic” and something about 5K’s (the DMZ ran 5 K’s to the north and south of the Ben Hai River). They have also preserved the loud speakers where the North would broadcast propaganda across the river to the South.

My guide is extremely knowledgeable! He cited facts and figures all day. He’s too young to remember the war but his grandparents and his uncle fought. His grandfather for the north, his uncle for the south. Like many Vietnamese families, split.

I’m staying in Hue City, at the Gold Hotel. 5 star it is not and no Wifi, despite promises. But it is clean and for $28 US what more can you ask for?

12 - 13 September, 2009, The Old Quarter Hanoi City



Late, lazy Saturday. I slept in because I could. No work, no yoga. I was going to go the the Hanoi Hilton (Hao Lo prison) and to see Ho Chi Minh’s house and museum, but I never made it. I decided to walk the Old Quarter instead. Lovely architecture and really one big bloody market. I bought a beautiful!!!! silk jacket and a nice top. And some bags for gifts. That’s about it. I was good. There is a cyclone north of us so I kept dodging the rain. Met a couple of Aussies who live in Ho Chi Minh City now and (mistakenly as it would turn out) had a carrot and orange juice on the street.

I came back to the room and started to read the book on the hotel. I knew it was chock full of history, but had no idea of just how much. The Metropole was built in 1901. It was to be the grandest of grand hotels in the crown jewel of Indochina, that was Hanoi. It was to rival the Raffles in Singapore, amongst several others in Asia. It has been home to several embassies, has housed countless politicians and movie stars. It has housed literary luminaries, many of whom I’ve heard of but not read (I’m more of a Harry Potter fan, myself). Charlie Chaplin had his honeymoon here and this is where Jane Fonda lived during her two months in Hanoi in the early ’70’s...she apparently met Tom Hayden here as well, whom she later married. Sydney Pollack moved in his whole film crew during “The Quite American.” Basically anyone who is anyone who’s ever been to Hanoi has either stayed or eaten at the Metropole.

Today during lunch you will see no less than 5 ambassadors from 5 different countries. This is where they come to socialise.

During the ’60’s they built a bomb shelter in the courtyard. The guests would go to the bomb shelter while the employees would patrol the perimeter with rifles. Some of the staff who were trained with the rifles still work at the hotel. The bomb shelter is so well built they could not demolish it after the war and, as a result cannot expand the pool.

After a couple of drinks at the bar by the pool (on top of said bomb shelter) I had a wonderful seafood buffet at Spices Garden, the Vietnamese restaurant in the hotel. Wonderful until about 3AM when I woke up and vomited it all back up. Several more trips to the bathroom later I quickly realised I had a bad case of food poisoning. I know the signs. Same thing happened to me after a few days in India. Chills, fever, can’t keep my eyes open. Needless to say, instead of sight seeing I spent the day in bed. I certainly caught up on my sleep.

11 September 2009: “Our Countries Have Known Each Other for a Very Long Time”


Perspective. These last two days were definitely a lesson in perspective for me.

“Our Countries Have Known Each Other for a Very Long Time.” That’s the response I got when I asked one of my participants if American guests were nice to them. I’m always a bit worried about Americans overseas. I myself go overboard not to be an example of “The Ugly American”. Even though I’ve lived abroad for over 7 years and travel on a Kiwi passport I can’t hide my accent. That is and always will be quintessentially American.

But I was especially concerned after spending two days with this lovely group of people. They touched my heart and it was important to me that they were treated nicely. I’m happy to say that they universally agreed that Americans, who comprise about 25% of their guests, were typically the nicest, the most congenial.

And the explanation? “Our Countries Have Known Each Other for a Very Long Time.” Indeed we have. Americans introduced ourselves to the Vietnamese by bombing the hell out of them and then we made ourselves at home by trying to deforest the entire country with Agent Orange.

But the war that left such an indelible mark on so many Americans was simply a blip in history for these people. After 1,000 years of Chinese rule and almost 100 years of French, I get the feeling here that our little war was but a minor nuisance. After all, they dispatched of us quite handily after less than 20 years.

A word about the work that I did over the last couple of days. I’ve done a lot of training and have worked with a lot of sales teams but I can’t say that I’ve ever worked with a group who was so keen, so enthusiastic. So eager to learn. And Andrew, their Director of Sales, assured me that they would implement what they were learning.

We shared a wonderful two days together. And they constantly surprised me. We have one exercise where they were to build a bridge out of sticky (celo / scotch) tape and pasta. Most western groups will do one of two things. Either they will spend most of their 15 minutes discussing how to do it and getting a consensus before even starting. Or they will splinter into several groups, each working on their own thing with little communication between the two. Neither normally results in a functioning bridge that can hold any amount of weight. But not this group. All three small groups got right to work. They all had different approaches (and taught me a bit about traditional Vietnamese bridge building) but all three finished on time with perfectly functioning bridges. I had to come up with something else to actually prove the point of the exercise!

Then there was the nail exercise. You have to balance 17, 6” nails on top of 1 nail which is pounded into a box. The solution is to build a thatched roof type of affair, but rarely do people get it. I certainly didn’t when I tried. But these guys? One group got it after just a few minutes. The other two also got it in the alloted time...but the amazing thing was that the other two groups didn’t even look over at the first group to see how they’d done it. Again, they just immediately went to work to figure it out.

What I learned about the Vietnamese people from this is their incredible ingenuity and their ability to work as a group! Also, their no nonsense approach. They just got down to it and didn’t faf around. In fact, that was the entire training. They were always in their seats early, ready to start. They paid attention during the entire two days. And the one participant that I thought was texting? He was using a dictionary to translate words that the group did not understand.

The other funny bit was that we have them introduce themselves and talk about someone they admire at the very start of the training. Several people mentioned their uncle. Well I thought they were talking about their uncle. Then I realised it was the same uncle. They described this Uncle as the founder of Vietnam. It wasn’t until morning tea that I realised that “Uncle Ho” was Ho Chi Minh. A man I’d been taught to hate and fear as a child. How weird was this? I had to completely readjust my thinking and by the end of the two days I was invoking him as an example. It fit completely actually because what we talked about was change. And how perfect...after all Uncle Ho dedicated his life to change.

All in all it was a very special experience and they touched my heart. At the end they gave me a book on the history of the hotel, signed by them all, and a gorgeous silk shawl. I can’t wait to go back next month!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Gooood Morning Vietnam!!!!

If Vietnam had a soundtrack I always thought it would be something like the Rolling Stones or the Doors. Psychedelic. Hard and powerful. And it would be coming from a radio that was slightly out of tune with the constant buzz of static detectible just under the song lyrics. It certainly would not be Nat King Cole belting love songs flawlessly from an iPod shuffle.

I never in my life dreamed that I’d go to Vietnam. I didn’t actually realise that anyone could until about 6 years ago when a client of mine went there on a holiday. Wow! Was it really possible? And for a holiday! She was a Kiwi. Surely not an American...

The concept was just too foreign to me. The Vietnam in my imagination was stuck back in the late ’60’s and early ’70’s and fueled by countless movies and television shows I’ve seen. It was the Vietnam of my Uncles. Uncle Jim who was here with the CIA during the early ’60’s. The build up. Uncle Dale, a Navy man, was here during the late ’60’s. Tet.

That Vietnam was, in fact two Vietnams and a rather unpopular war was raging to keep them from becoming one. Or at least to keep the North from taking over the South. But the North did eventually take over the South one day in April, 1975.

And the Vietnam that I was now looking at from the back seat of a chauffeur driven Mercedes is a unified Communist country...with a healthy (or relatively so in this GFC) capitalistic economy. And Nat King Cole was singing love songs from the iPod shuffle.

My mind raced back to my child hood. To all of those memories that made indelible impressions on me. Walter Cronkite was our constant dinner companion. Telling us how many more US soldiers had lost their lives that day. I don’t know if these memories of childhood dinners are real or recreated with the help of “Platoon” or “Apocalypse Now”. But it doesn’t matter. They’re now part of my neuro synapses. Men with guns, women in conical hats with babies in their arms, trees burning, Agent Orange.

My Dad, the history major, wanted to make sure that I understood. He’s spend hours around the dinner table talking to me about the history of the region and why the US thought it was necessary to protect the south. To keep that domino from falling. It was the ’60’s version of “Weapons of mass destruction.”

My father, a staunch Republican until Clinton’s ’92 election, was becoming disenchanted with war and starting to side with the protestors. Is it a coincidence that I came to Vietnam myself on my father’s birthday? Poignant.

I turned 7 during the “Summer of Love” but remember yearning to be part of the demonstrations. This was big. This was important. I needed to stand up for this.

When those four students fell at Kent State I longed to be there. To mourn, to participate, to help bring an end to the war in that distant, foreign place called Vietnam. I was 8. The irony that I later joined the Ohio (Air) National Guard to pay my way through university was not lost on me.

And now here I am. I’ve come on business. I’ve been hired to do training to help upgrade the sales process for the Sofitel Hotel corporation. The Hanoi Metropole is my first location. A beautiful colonial style building built in 1901.

My Vietnam so far consists of impeccable service, an incredibly comfortable bed, delicious food and a flat screen TV.

I’m here for a few more days and then I plan to see the other Vietnam. The remnants of the one from my childhood memories. What do I hope to accomplish? I’m not sure. Maybe in some infinitesimal way I can bring a bit more peace to this country that’s been ravaged for centuries by war. “The American War” (hard for me to get used calling it that...but then again they certainly wouldn’t refer to it as The Vietnam War now would they?) being only one of many struggles these people have faced.

Maybe I can just bring a bit more peace to my own memories. I’m expecting it to be a bit emotional but very interesting.

I wonder if either of my uncles got a hand rolled chocolate on their freshly turned down bed when they were here? I seriously doubt it.