Suspended in a Sunbeam

Our last training session was led by Teresa, looking at the primacy of building relationships with all our students. Building these relationships takes time, we are over a thousand different personalities, all co-existing together and with many different variables in the mix on any given day.

So how can it be done?


And expectations that need to be in place for all of us in establishing these relationships.


And if it doesn’t go right?┬áKeep things in perspective, and try again. Rarely is an endpoint or irreversible situation reached, so we pick it up again, and keep on learning about people, situations and strategies.

p dix

Paul Dix and his work on changing attitudes is a revelation on this.

Paul Smith and Dan Finill have kindly circulated his podcasts as a further support and guide:


A Pale Blue Dot

I recently read an article by Carl Sagan, in which he wrote of his own thoughts on our co-existence and the gift of perspective, based around the Voyager photograph of Earth and the inner Solar System:

20140801_PIA00452Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there–on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, 1994