Popular Posts

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Roshi John 'Daido' Loori (14th June 1931 - 9th October 2009)




Buddhists seek the path – which is sometimes hidden, sometimes light. Ultimately one has to be a lamp unto oneself – but there are great teachers who shine a pure light. John ‘Daido’ Loori was one of those.

He made me aware that contradictions, uncertainties and trade-offs provide a nexus for much of human experience – but that a good heart is everything. As Buddhism simultaneously teaches: ‘we are nothing special’, though ‘it is no small thing to be born human’.

Sometimes the path can seem narrow and distant, lost in the mountain mist, surrounded by deep pitfalls. But once attained, even for a short spell, it can roll forward like a broad road appearing to stretch ever onwards, putting your feet on solid ground. With your feet on the ground you can be authentic, and as you move forward there is presence and a sense of living in the moment.

I wrote this personal remembrance of Daido for the NZ Zen magazine Manawa:

“As someone who has not been very active recently with the NZ sangha, I feel a bit of a fraud in putting forward some comments on Daido. However, the plea for contributions has overcome my reticence:

He taught me the value of 'compassionate indifference' - perhaps compassionate objectivity or clarity of action are other ways of expressing what I am trying to say.

I had been hooked on the idea that gurus and roshis were inevitably saintly. Clearly, pure in mind and big of heart, they were beyond the norm, and capable of superhuman concern for everyone and everything.

This gave me, as a mere mortal, a good excuse to pretend to be a disciple of the sacred rather than to facing up to dealing with the messy real world and messy real people (where everything in the sacred we inevitably profane – and everything in the real world is sacred).

Daido had a unique ability though to cut through this kind of sophistry.

I once made the mistake at an audience with him of responding to his inquiry about my practice by blurting out that I was getting married. 'Good luck', he observed, and the audience was over.

On another occasion, I confided my concern about the difficulties that sometimes arise in making ethical decisions that bear both on one's one emotional health and the expectations and wellbeing of others.

Sensing my real anxiety, he recounted a story about his personal experience in the Korean War. He had been on sentry duty at a camp that was a possible target of infiltration by North Korean and Chinese troops. Peering across the perimeter of the camp into the night, he heard a sound that could have heralded a hostile raid.

On the other hand, it could have been the half-mad. poverty-stricken old man who came when the camp was quiet to sift through the rubbish.

A shot at the noise might save his comrades from being annihilated if there were indeed intruders - but if he was wrong, the old man would die needlessly.

He didn't shoot and it turned out to be the old man - no one was harmed.

But, as Daido remarked: 'I could not have been held guilty if I had fired at the shadow. I just did my best to make the right decision - that was all I could have done - and after all, I have to bear the knowledge that I might have endangered my colleagues in arms.

If you weigh all the evidence and take decisions with a good heart, you should stand firm and not look back'.

My third anecdote is about attending one of his wonderful public talks at the Downstage Theatre, Wellington. He electrified the audience and everyone who attended was deeply touched. However, I found him outside after the talk shaking and drawing heavily on a cigarette.

He wasn't a saint – just an exceptionally decent and highly committed human being.

With my love and deep respect

Keith Johnson”

Eric Harry Johnson (my Uncle Eric) - Quiet military hero and champion road walker



'ERIC HARRY JOHNSON'

[in his own words]

Early Years

My name is Eric Harry Johnson. I was born on the 8th of February 1912. My father was Harry Johnson and my mother was Constance Maud Mary Johnson. I was the youngest of three sons of the marriage. Bob was the eldest, his real name was Robert but we called him ‘Bob’. He became an accountant. Cyril was the other brother who was the cleverest of all three. He got both a BA and an MA. Unfortunately he was killed during the 2nd World War in a flying accident.

We all went to the same school which was St John’s Bowyer School, Clapham. I never really reached the academic level of my two brothers. I was constantly reminded of that by the teachers. However, after spending my time there I won a scholarship to Archbishop Temple’s School in Lambeth – where I stayed until I was 16 years of age.

I wasn’t particularly bright but I enjoyed all the sporting activities. When I left school, my father got me a job with a firm of stockjobbers on the London Stock Exchange – where, including the war years, I stayed for 25 years. After that I joined a Yorkshire firm of Wool Brokers on the New London Wool Terminal Exchange. I worked for them for about nine years before moving to the sugar market. There I stayed for 15 years until my retirement.

My earliest recollections of family life were the 1st World War years. I can remember when the Zeppelins raided London we all rushed down to the nearest Underground Station – where we stayed until it was ‘all-clear’. It was very scary.

When I was about 11 years old, the family broke up because we had not paid the rent. We got evicted from our house in Clapham. Bob went to live in digs while Cyril and I went to the Home of the Good Shepherd not far away. It was a very good home. We had a most enjoyable time there.

Work and Marriage

After that, when I started work, the family got together again and we lived in Lewisham to start with and then on to Brockley, and finally in Lee, South East London. That is where I got engaged and from there I left to get married.

When I got married the wife and I lived in 240 Clockhouse Road, Elmer’s End, Kent for 11 years. We moved on to 65 Conisborough Crescent, Catford, SE London, where we remained for about 38 years – before moving to Holly Court, Bellingham Road, Catford in 1988.

Some recollections of my early life were of food shortage during the 1st World War. Things got so bad at times that I would come home and all I had for dinner was a plate of haricot beans. I remember one Christmas we had bloaters for Christmas dinner. However, nobody is to blame for that. The War was won and that was that.

In 1931 I met my wife. I went to a local hop on a Saturday night. I did not see her during the dance and certainly did not dance with her and was rather keen on some other girl. When I got my coat on, I rushed down the road and thinking it was the girl I had been dancing with, I put my arm through hers – and it was the wrong girl. It was my future wife.

Anyway being gallant, I walked he home. We walked right down Lee High Road, Lewisham High Street through Ladywell Recreation Park, up Randlesdown Road, up Canadian Avenue into Bellingham - quite a long walk. I think I got home a bit late that night. I got rollicked by my mother for being out so late.

Anyway, we met up again and she asked me if I would like to go for a walk in the country, on an all-day Sunday hike. We were not alone. I think we went with two other couples. That started our walking activities. From then on, every summer we used to go hiking every Sunday without exception. It did not cost very much. We would take our own grub, have a few beers here and there and a cup of tea. This was mainly in Kent – around Shoreham, Westerham, around Penshurst, Chiddingston (where naughty wives were tied up and punished) – all those places - lovely countryside.

Then we started going on holidays together. We had holidays in Coombe Martin about three times. We had a holiday in Looe, a holiday in Barmouth, Wales, in Bude, and finally we had our honeymoon in Salcombe, Devon. We got married on the 24th of June, 1939.

The Second World War certainly interrupted our married life. For the first six and a half years of married life, the longest period I spent with my wife was two weeks. We had two weeks honeymoon, two weeks at home and I had Territorial Camp for two weeks, and then two weeks at home before I was called up to serve in the Army. Apart from the odd leave, I did not see much of her.

During that time, our twin daughters were born to us, Judith and Gillian. I did not really know them until they were about four and a half years old. We got to know each other and had some very happy times. We went walking quite a bit. We had some nice holidays. We went to Torquay, Minehead, the Isle of Wight. I think the next time was one near Bognor, on a caravan site – and also at Selsea, where we had the most miserable weather for a whole fortnight. The girls quite enjoyed themselves – they met some local lads and we did not see much of them.

My Daughters and my Grandchildren

Both my daughters eventually got married - and my vivid memories of both those weddings are of when I was taking them to the church in the car – I cried. God know why – I suppose it was having lived with them for so long, it was hard to lose them. I suppose we were quite a close sort of family.

Now I would like to mention our grandchildren. Firstly, Fiona and Kirsteen – the daughters of Gillian. We had a lot to do with bringing them up. We used to have them many weekends and also at New Year’s Eve. When they came to us, we would go for a walk around Beckenham Place Park with the dog. In the evening, we always seemed to play cards. I can always remember this because my wife used to provide us with snacks – and they had those sticky twiglet things. When they shuffled the cards, they got sticky and in the end, you could not shuffle them because they got stuck together.

We used to lark about. They used to like me to play that game where I used to say ‘I’m a little Prairie flower, growing wilder every hour, nobody cares to cultivate me, I’m as wild as can be’. When I said ‘as wild as can be’, the girls used to fly up to the end of the room – and then would come back and say ‘do it again’.

--------------------------------------------------------
[I checked the reference – and came up with this:

“SONG HIT OF THE CONVENTION
The following song was the song hit of the 9th International Rotary Convention at Kansas City in 1918.
It was sung by everybody upon every occasion outside the regular business sessions of the Convention – and sung once during a Convention session when Andrew Home-Martin of London, England, referred to it.
The last line is repeated while the singer places the tip of his index finger on the crown of his head – and whirls around once in time with the rhythm”.

THE ROTARIAN, August 1918, Vol XIII, No 2]
-------------------------------------------------------

Eric continues:

And I can always remember Kirsteen on one New Year’s Eve when she was about four years old – she wanted to stay up and see the New Year in. About 11 o’clock, her eyelids began to fall and we had to keep prodding her to keep her awake. Eventually, she did ‘see’ the New Year in – but did not know much about it!

Then there is Judith’s son Brett, who we saw a lot of when we visited Canada. We often went out with him alone. He seemed to enjoy himself with us. We lost him in Square One Shopping mall and could not find him anywhere – but he eventually turned up. Over in Canada, we were apt to get on the wrong bus to go home. One day Brett said ‘We are on the wrong bus but I know where to get off’ – and when we got off, he said ‘It’s only a short mile back to my house’. This turned out to be about two miles.

Brett always knew what he wanted. He was very fond of the toys you assemble yourself and he used to get round us until we bought the damn thing. It gave him much pleasure putting them together and he used to do it exceptionally well.

Happy Days!

Another recollection I have is of our Christmas parties. We had some hilarious parties. We all seemed to let our hair down and have a good time. I was introduced to all the dances – the jive, the twist and the locomotion. Everybody had to do a ‘turn’. We had An and Lionel do a ‘turn’, the Watts came over and did their ‘turn’, It was real um-dinger times.

Another recollection I have is when Judy came home from an Aquascutum Christmas Party. I think she had so much champagne that when she left, she had no ruddy idea where she was. She came home and thought it must have been past midnight and that we were all in bed, so she locked the doors. In fact, we were out and when we came home we could not get in – so we got the garden prop and hammered it against the window to try to wake her up but it made no difference. We got the dog barking and eventually we had to break a window to get in. Happy days!

My wife and I have been married 56 years. It has been quite a pleasant sort of marriage – we have been very compatible. We have a few arguments but nothing very serious – and it soon blows over. I think at the moment, we are very dependent on one another.

My Dogs

Now I must talk about the dogs in my life .....

..... extensive section follows on ‘Jimp’, ‘Jacko’ and ‘Sandy’ – still avoiding saying anything very personal or anything specific about his own quite considerable achievements in life – this was a stoic and unassuming generation. Finally .....

My Days in the Army

Now I must talk about my days in the Army. I was called up two weeks before the war started and I think it was 1942 when the Army was expanded – they needed more officers. So a bunch of us were sent along for an interview and strangely enough I passed and went on to Shrivenham to a training camp. Most of the time in England, I was on active defense and we guarded things like oil installations, ball bearing factories – but mainly air fields – although I did have a good period on the defense of Liverpool docks, which was a most interesting time.

From there, I was posted to a unit going overseas to make up the numbers. They were ex-regular army units called the Royal Ulster Rifles and, with them, I saw active service in Algeria, Tunisia, Malta, Sicily and both sides of Italy from south to north. Somehow, my face seemed to fit there and I got on very well indeed. Eventually, I got promoted to the rank of Captain.

-------------------------------------------------
THE OFFICIAL STORY:

The 2nd Battalion, London Irish Rifles (Royal Ulster Rifles) was created in April 1939 and brought rapidly to strength. After training and spending some times in coastal defence in England, the battalion was assigned in June 1942 to the 38th (Irish) Infantry Brigade, alongside the 1st Royal Irish Fusiliers (the "Faughs") and the 6th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers (The "Skins", later replaced by the 2nd R Innis Fus). The Brigade landed in North Africa in late 1942 with the 6th Armoured Division, and in March 1943, during the campaign in Tunisia, was transferred to the 78th (Battleaxe) Infantry Division.

Under the prestigious command of the Eighth Army, the 2 LIR were to fight in Sicily, and after crossing to mainland Italy in late September 1943, the battle of Termoli, against the Barbara Line on the River Trigno, the crossing of the River Sangro (Gustav Line) and the battle of Monte Cassino in spring 1944. After a brief spell of rest in Egypt, the Division took again its place on the line of battle, fighting in the Po Valley and the Argenta Gap. The end of the war found the London Irish entering in Austria.
(Source : The London Irish at War : A History of the Battalions of the London Irish Rifles in World War II, by S. T. A. R, London 1949).

The illustration depicts a Bren gunner of the 2 LIR in the Autumn-Winter 1944, when the battalion was fighting for small hills in the Po Valley, between Florence and Bologna in Northern Italy - under the "most depressing weather", as the historian of the London Irish noted – so much for "Sunny Italy".

He wears the standard dress of the British Tommy, with a wool-lined leather jerkin, woollen scarf and gloves for added warmth. His insignia are the "battleaxe" of the 78th Inf Div and, under the rifle-green arm-of-service stripe, the green shamrock of the 38th Irish Brigade. The black triangle on the shamrock is the battalion indicator.
--------------------------------------------------------

Eric continues:

I have failed to mention my walking days. When I was a young lad at the Stock Exchange, they had an annual London to Brighton Walk. One year, when I was about 21, I got on my bike and cycled to Purley to watch the walkers go through. I thought – if only I could walk from London to Brighton, I would have achieved something in my life. So, the following year, I did a bit of training and had a go. I finished in about 10 hours 24 minutes.

The second year took about 9 hours 20 minutes. The third year I was getting near the nine hours mark. In the fourth and fifth years I broke nine hours for which I got a medal. I finished second in 1936, 1937 and 1938 – and eventually won it in 1939.

Then the War came and, after the War, they were very keen to get the event started again. I was not particularly interested but I thought that I had better play the game and have a go. I won the next two years in 1947 and 1948. So I won it three times in succession and came in second three times in succession

-------------------------------------------------------
Background: London to Brighton Walk

Origins of the Great Race

Early in 1903 William Bramson, a member of the London Stock Exchange, had the idea that the Exchange should join the current craze of pedestrianism, and that members of the House and their clerks be persuaded to attempt to walk from Westminster Bridge to the sea front at Brighton, a distance of 53 miles, in a time of 12 hours and 30 minutes.

Bramson consulted with a few friends in the Market and subsequently a committee was formed and the organisation of the race was put in motion. Some 100 years later members and clerks of the Stock Exchange are still attempting to do the same.

The idea of such an event caught the imagination of the House and soon they had 100 entries. It was decided no charge would be made for entries and that the first man to complete the course would receive a gold medal, value 10 guineas, with second and third medals to the value of 5 guineas each. It was also agreed that there would be a sealed handicap race with a silver cup to the value of 10 guineas to the winner, with prizes to second and third, and that Bramson would be responsible for the handicapping.

Because of the amount of organisation required, it was agreed that the race should be held on the 1st May, that being a Stock Exchange holiday. Entrants started training, some even employed professional trainers, and members were sighted striding through the country roads most weekends.

Near the date several sweep stakes were organised in the House, the largest being in the Kaffir market with a first prize of £350. By the eve of the race bets of several thousands of pounds were made and it was reported some market pitches resembled miniature Tattersalls.

On the day of the race the weather was wet and windy. The race had had much publicity and it was reported that 30,000 spectators were in the Westminster Bridge area. Because of the crush, the competitors failed to reach the start line at the official time and the race started with the bulk of the competitors three minutes late. A large number of mounted and foot police were required to clear a passage through the human mass to allow the 87 official competitors to proceed the first few miles.

Prominent companies were present on the road advertising their wares. Among the most popular of these were the OXO cars, who handed competitors refreshments which included OXO, hot or cold, OXO and champagne, OXO and soda, cheese, biscuits, bananas and apples.

The winner of this first race was E F Broad, a clerk with the broking firm of Marsden & Co, who completed the course in nine hours 30 minutes 1 second, and the winner of the sealed handicap was S E Knight in 10 hours 8 minutes 30 seconds. Of the 87 starters, 77 completed the course in the allotted time. In 1910 the Stock Exchange Athletic Club was formed and has been responsible for the organisation of the races since, although the second race was not until 1912.

--------------------------------------------------------

Monday, November 16, 2009

Some comments on the 2009 film 'An Education'



SYNOPSIS


Jenny ( Carey Mulligan) a very bright girl on the cusp of her 17th birthday, finds herself in a whirlwind romance with the much older David ( Peter Sarsgaard). Prior to meeting him, Jenny was working hard at secondary school to ensure getting to Oxford University.

When she sees the lifestyle David can provide, one she never imagined could be hers, she's hooked and thoughts of Oxford are forgotten. Then, when things are looking pretty good for Jenny with the dashing ( yet a little too smooth) David, the truth hits her like a ton of bricks.

Jenny goes from being a bright eyed school girl and a sophisticated young lady, all the way back to questioning if she really knows who she is at all.

'An Education' won the Audience Choice award and the Cinematography award at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival.

COMMENT

Strange and challenging film for those of us who stood in the rain at bus stops in our (tidy)school uniforms in the early 1960s, clutching schoolbags full of Latin 'O' Level texts ('Nisus erat custos portae ..'), alternately giddy or terrified at the prospects of Oxbridge.

While the fag end of wartime recovery and the longing for glamour is well-portrayed, it doesn't quite catch the terror of pregnancy that pervaded the lives of teenage girls - and the equal repressions and heady drives of their nylon-stocking top seeking boyfriends.

This was a weary and exhausted time when the exercise of back-biting morality provided a possible relief for ageing parents and teachers who had suffered terror and deprivation - followed by a meaningless grind to make a living in a grey economy.

And the Bristol car! Prominent in my memory as a car like this was driven by Melancy Chambers, the owner of the farm that we tenanted. What a presence! A gruff but not unkindly dyke who was utterly fearless fox hunting - riding side-saddle across heavy post and rail fences and unkempt hawthorn hedges.

I can't quite believe the image that the film creates of innocence, followed by relatively untroubled naughtiness and quiet reckoning. Perhaps that is all that younger members of the audience can grasp.

And it was not the Paris that I knew. Sleeping out on a park bench near Notre Dame on the way to Orleans, my situation was checked out by a kindly gendarme. I asked whether there was a place in gaol where I could sleep. He sighed heavily and replied that all the spaces had already been filled by 'filles' (prostitutes) and Algerians.

So much went on under the surface. Even body language was muted - and heaven help those who broke ranks and called things as they really were. No film can really capture that.

The IPANZ dimension
















Report on Institute of Public Administration (IPANZ) collaboration with the Commonwealth Association for Public Administration and Management (CAPAM) in India, October 2008 (from the IPANZ Journal 'Public Sector')

IPANZ Board Member Dr Keith Johnson who is the Institute’s International Liaison Officer has been working to develop international linkages. This is consistent with the provisions of the 2007-2010 Statement of Intent which flags the objective of ‘monitoring and cross-referencing international trends’. Recently, his contacts with the Commonwealth Association for Public Administration and Management (CAPAM) resulted in active collaboration in India, as reported below.

In October 2008, Keith was invited to be a guest presenter on Finance and Risk Issues at a CAPAM Programme on Innovations and Good Practices in New Public Management for high level officials from South Asia (with participants from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and the Maldives). The course was held at the Bella Vista campus of the Administrative Staff College of India (ASCI) in Hyderabad, in the delightful setting provided by the old palace of the Nizam of Hyderabad.

Keith’s presentation drew heavily on New Zealand’s experience commenting firstly on the breadth and vision of the post-1987 Government Management initiatives, including the introduction of the Performance Reporting Model and the adoption of Managing for Outcomes. The shortfalls that still exist between desirable and achievable levels of accountability and financial efficiency were then explored drawing on the findings of the 2008 Parliamentary Committee on State Owned Enterprises and the recent comments of the Office of the Auditor General on output and outcome reporting.

While the participants were generally appreciative of the evaluative merits of the New Zealand system, they were less than surprised at the problems that have been experienced in actualizing evaluation and feedback. There was widespread agreement that performance in the public sector was often a slippery beast that defies easy capture.

The other presenters included: Mr David Hawkes (former Public Service Commissioner for the Northern Territory of Australia) who spoke on Australian and international initiatives to improve the scope, targeting and quality of service delivery; Mr Jasimuddin (Adviser, Asia Region, Commonwealth Secretariat) who spoke on the basic tenets of New Public Manaagement, Mr Mohammed Tap Salleh Datuk, Malaysian Institute of Integrity; the Hon Milinda Moragoda, Minister of Tourism, Sri Lanka, who gave a keynote address on the emergence of challenges to the traditional relationship between politicians and the public sector; and presentations by a number of practitioners from the Indian Civil Service on topics such as governance, vigilance (i.e. anti-corruption), grass-roots service delivery, the role of public-private sector partnerships and institutional reform.

There was also appreciation by the participants and presenters of the quality of the sessions and the debates that they engendered. As for the IPANZ-CAPAM relationship, this has been much strengthened – so much so that Keith will be providing extensive inputs to the CAPAM programme for African public servants on ‘Leadership in Financial Administration and Management’ that will be held in Gabarone, Botswana in April 2009.

Time swiftly passes - and opportunity is lost



TIME SWIFTLY PASSES …..

In October 2008, I was invited to take morning coffee with the Vice President. But in this case, there was no need for circumspection or temerity. Twenty years had passed and both of us were older – and hopefully in my case also wiser.

The meeting took place at the dignified but quietly understated office of M. Narasimham, the Chairman of the Administrative Staff College of India (ASCI), in the lovely old palace that houses the College in the center of Hyderabad.

I was visiting India as a guest speaker on Finance and Risk issues at a seminar for High Level Officials from South Asia that had been organized by the Commonwealth Secretariat and the Commonwealth Association for Public Administration and Management on ‘Innovations and Good Practices in New Public Management’.

In the previous month I had mentioned my impending visit to ASCI to my old ADB colleague Bruce Smith, as Bruce and I had been collaborating on some work on developing a National Investment Strategy for Jordan. Bruce was able to remind me of the important role that ASCI played in ADB’s affairs as the source of some very eminent senior managers – including Vice President M. Narasimham.

I was therefore delighted to see the V.P’s photo-image beaming down from one of the Bella Vista Palace corridors among the long line of previous ASCI directors – and to learn that he was still coming into ASCI regularly to contribute to its programs. It was then a short step to letting him know that Dr Keith Johnson, former Economist with the Economics and Development Resource Center, would like to pay his respects.

As it happens, I have a photograph in one of my home albums of a previous meeting with the V.P. dating to 1988. We were both engaged in welcoming participants to an ADB Regional Technical Assistance seminar on applying partial equilibrium modeling to estimate the economic costs associated with agricultural subsidies and trade protection. This led on to the publication of an ADB book entitled ‘Evaluating Rice Market Intervention Policies’. The photograph shows me with the V.P. (and Dr Mohammed Quibria of EDRC, at center).

Some twenty years later, we have both changed somewhat - though, I hasten to add, at least one of us is as smart as ever! Over coffee, the 79-year old V.P. soon launched into a fascinating assessment of the evolution of the relative Incremental Capital Output Ratios (ICORs) of India and China and I was given a rapid reprise of his superior intellect. But thankfully, I was able to shift the conversation laterally to less-demanding waters by raising my interest in Buddhism.

Te Mihi Whanau Aotearoa





Te Mihi o Aotearoa

Ko Tapu te Ranga te maunga
Ko Raukawa te moana
Ko Ngati Hone te iwi Ingarangi
Ko Koru Rerangi te waka
Ko Hohepe (Matiu … Pita … Hami… Tio) toku ingoa

Translation of the Maori ‘Family Introduction’

The islet of Island Bay is my mountain
The waters of Cook Strait are my sea
I am from the Johnson Family of England
My ancestors travelled here by air
I am Joseph (Matthew … Peter … Sam…Theo) by name

The English Mihi

The crag at Beeston is my mountain
The waters of the Weaver are my sea
I am from the Johnson-Shorrocks-Darlington Family of Lancashire and Cheshire
We are local folk from long ages past
I am Keith (Matthew … Peter … Sam… Theo) by name

Comment

Looking at the family in retrospect, it is clear that we are descended, at least on my side, from a mixed set of wholly English ancestors (with links to the North West, Midlands, South West, East Anglia and London).

My paternal great grandfather Robert Edwin Shorrocks was born in Salford, Lancashire in 1854 (family, presumably, originally from Blackburn area) and his wife Fanny also hailed from Salford (born Fanny Eliza Mallinson 1856 - family originally from Rastrick, West Yorkshire). My paternal grandmother's father Charles D. Lubbock was born in Great Yarmouth, Norfolk c1851 and his wife Helen Rebecca Rayner was born in Finsbury, London c1861 (family originally from Cambridge).

My maternal great grandfather David Clarke was born in Weston Favell, Northampton in 1842 and his wife Sarah Kenyon was born in Oldham, Lancashire c1862. My maternal grandmother's father Joseph Salter was born in Upham, Hampshire, Wiltshire c1864 (family originally from Ottery St Mary, Devon), and his wife Mary Davis was born in Market Lavington, Wiltshire c1868.

Our connections with the North West of England are therefore the strongest through the Shorrocks and Kenyon links and our step-links to the Darlingtons. The Darlingtons are Cheshire farmers 'born and bred' ('Cheshire born and Cheshire bred; strong i'the arm and wik i'the yed' - wik means quick - not weak!). There are also farming connections through Joseph Salter (to Raxhayes Farm, Ottery St Mary) and George Kenyon, my Oldham great great great grandfather, who was a Lancashire farmer.

Most of the other families appear to have found employment in the 19th and early 20th Centuries in urban jobs, and the Shorrocks’ (Brushmanufacturing), Clarkes (Shoemaking and Accountancy), Lubbocks (Shipbuilding), and Kenyons (Cartage, Provisioning and Innkeeping) had their own businesses. Helen's father though was a 'Railway Engineer' (maybe loco driver?) with the SE Railway.

--------------------------

"If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people.

To be born means that something which did not exist comes into existence. But the day we are "born" is not our beginning. It is a day of continuation. But that should not make us less happy when we celebrate our "Happy Continuation Day."

Since we are never born, how can we cease to be? This is what the Heart Sutra reveals to us. When we have a tangible experience of non-birth and non-death, we know ourselves beyond duality. The meditation on "no separate self" is one way to pass through the gate of birth and death.

Your hand proves that you have never been born and you will never die. The thread of life has never been interrupted from time without beginning until now. Previous generations, all the way back to single-celled beings, are present in your hand at this moment.

You can observe and experience this. Your hand is always available as a subject for meditation. ": 'Present Moment, Wonderful Moment' by Thich Nhat Hanh

------------------------------

“Our descendants will understand many things which are hidden from us now.” :'Pre-historic Times, as Illustrated by Ancient Remains, and the Manners and Customs of Modern Savages', by John Lubbock published 1865.

(John Lubbock was a famous London Banker and Natural Scientist who shares a heritage with our family – through Keith’s grandmother Constance Maud Mary Johnson (nee Lubbock))

Settled in New Zealand - 'Kiwi as'


I first visited New Zealand for the Xmas of 1980-81 when we brought Matt to see his grandparents Denis and Noleen Cunningham. Thereafter we made fairly regular visits from Manila. However, it was something of a shock to settle here in 1991.

My dilemma is illustrated by my faux pas at a Treaty of Waitangi Workshop that I attended under the auspices of the Ministry of Energy. We were asked to separate ourselves into two groups at opposing ends of the room – Maori and non-Maori. The non-Maori were then asked to divide into native born and immigrant. The immigrants were then asked why they came.

My reply, which it turns out was unwelcome, was ‘because it’s like Australia’.

While I still miss the laconic humour and optimism of the Australians, I have come to increasingly value the quiet decency of New Zealanders.

Dianne and I settled at 18 Glasgow Street, Kelburn and Matt and Pete have always had this as their home. Sadly, Dianne and I parted in 1993, our relationship having been considerably frayed by the stress and insecurities generated by living for so long in Manila.

Then the pressures of maintenance payments and my inability to sell the UK house led me to take up an attractive offer from the large US IT company EDS to join their new EDS Management Consulting Company. Unfortunately, the local company collapsed after 6 months in 1994 as a result of restructuring and poor marketing and performance – and this smashed my dream of starting afresh in a new organization as I had done with Dar Al-Handasah.

The upshot was that I faced 50 as a single and unemployed outsider in Wellington’s small and closely-held job market.

Starting my career again from a low base has been a considerable challenge. In retrospect, this has also been the most rewarding era of my life. It taught me the importance of being able to deal sensibly with relative failure by working quietly towards long-term goals while fostering robust wellness and happiness.

In the period 1995-1998, I did a wide variety of things – with a mix of voluntary work and contracting – I was what is known as a Portfolio Worker.

Some of the interesting assignments include helping a Samoan Men’s Group Folau Alofa tender for work on domestic violence counseling with the Departments of Courts and Corrections; teaching a course on Employment Relations to eleven ‘unteachable’ 17-year old girls at Wellington Girls High School (I saw one of them recently, Maxine – she is running a cafĂ© at Paraparaumu); and helping Airways Corporation to initiate its later very high profile overseas franchising operation.

I also continued my interest in Labour Party politics and stood briefly as a candidate for the Regional Council in 1998. Looking back, this kind of hand to mouth existence was very good for me. It has helped me to put career issues into better perspective and to start to accept the fact that I may not be able to reach all the goals that I once set for myself. However, there were continued money worries – particularly prior to the commencement of my ADB pension in 1999, and this led me back into overseas consulting.

One of the attractions of coming to New Zealand from a career viewpoint had been the chance to learn about and participate in the Public Sector Reform process that had commenced in 1984 under the Lange Government.

When I therefore had an opportunity to participate in a public sector reform project in Jamaica in 1998, it seemed to be a marvelous opening that could tie together my New Zealand and overseas experience (I had previously spent time with the Jamaican Administrative Staff College in the early 1980s, as part of a collaborative programme with the University of Bradford). The assignment involved restructuring the Planning Institute (central planning office) and the Ministry of Works.

While the project did not run smoothly, it gave me the confidence to return to overseas consulting and I soon took up a whole string of assignments with the Asian Development Bank in Bangladesh and the Philippines. It was great fun being back in Manila, where I still had many old friends like Tom Crouch, Ken Grumley, Ian Gill, John Cole and Ross Clendon. Strange also to hash again in half-forgotten places, drink again in half-forgotten bars and discover one again beach resorts like Matabungkay and Montemar.

Manila was much the same though more crowded, more congested and more polluted. Nevertheless, the thought crossed my mind that I should make a new life out of development consulting – maybe moving back to live in Manila (with the consequent risk of going, in Northern Territory parlance, ‘troppo, combo and plonko’).

However, the chance of remaking my life in Wellington came up when I secured a full-time job with Housing New Zealand Corporation.

One of the great attractions of Wellington was the possibility of further developing my interest in Buddhism. From 1991 to 1994, I had been involved with the local sitting group or sangha of the Zen Mountains and Rivers Order (Japanese tradition) Then, Marion Bond and Colin Pratt, long-time friends from Manila, arrived in Wellington and set up a Shambala group (Tibetan tradition) that I was rapidly and happily conscripted into.

Nowadays I (very irregularly) attend courses and weekends with both groups. It was while assisting with a Shambala training weekend that I first met a very attractive young lady, whole head was closely shaved at this point. Through our common interest in the dharma, we met again at a Zen service. This led on to more social outings and eventually Jane came to stay with me in my bachelor pad Flat 22, 42 Vivian Street, Central Wellington.

It was from the start a close and deep relationship and Sam started his existence in the flat, after we had both decided that we would love to have a child together. However, it was clearly not practicable to have a baby in a one bedroom flat and we then bought 368 The Parade, Island Bay / Tapu-te-ranga).

Although it had been intended that our first son Samson Ross Johnson Bodkin should be born at home, this did not happen due to minor complications, and he was born in Wellington Women’s Hospital on 24th November 2002. Sam was named with his grandfather Horace in mind. If Horace and Meg had had a son, he would have been called Sam. As Samuel is quite a common name, Jane and I decided to go for the more uncommon form Samson. The Christian name Ross comes from Jane’s brother who was killed in a mining accident at Parkes, N.S.W. exactly 4 years prior to the date of Sam’s birth.

Sam is a Bodkin because it is a rare and dying name in New Zealand, and Jane and I had a deal that any girls would be ‘Johnsons’ and any boys would be ‘Bodkins’.

Sam’s brother Theo Robert Johnson Bodkin was born at home on 18th February 2004, weighing 8lb 4oz. The name Theo just appealed to both of us but the ‘Robert Johnson’ component stems right back (through my father’s elder brother who held the forename) to my great grandfather Robert Edwin Shorrocks - referred to as Robert Edwin Johnson in grandfather Harry’s marriage certificate).

This links us to the rise of the industrial North of England in the 19th Century as Robert Edwin’s father and grandfather were both Salford Brushmanufacturers. The Shorrocks family in turn appears to have originated in central Lancashire (probably as pastoral farmers) and can be tied uniquely to Shorrock Green in the Ribble Valley. Beyond we can surmise links to the Celtic-speaking Brigantes tribe who gave the Romans are fairly hard time and beyond them to the pre-history of Britain and the ‘Mammoth Hunters’ who followed the tundra fauna north from Iberia some 8,000 years ago.

Over the last few year, I have been fortunate to be able to enjoy a varied and interesting reprise to my career. This has included by spell as a Senior Policy Analyst with Housing New Zealand Corporation (with a secondment to the Ministry of Health), and an appointment as a Principal Adviser with the NZ Ministry of Transport.

In 2007, I returned to economic consulting full-time with the New Zealand Institute of Economic Research and much enjoyed the variety of local assignments (and desktop work on the Jordan National Investment Strategy). However, when Jane was promoted to the post of Clinical Nurse Supervisor and offered a full-time role with the Central Community Mental Health Team in Wellington, I decided to step down to look after Theo (who was still nearly a year away from primary school).

Since then, as the boys are now both in school, I have started to re-activate my overseas consulting with assignments so far (to November 2009) in India, Botswana and the Philippines (ADB).

Looking back at our more immediate family history, I suppose it exemplifies many of the struggles that beset all families – the losses and gains, ups and downs. However, I think that we were somewhat unusual in having a double line of war-service bereavements – with the loss of my grandfather David Clarke in 1918 (aged 30) and the loss of my own father Jay Johnson in 1943 (aged 33).

This definitely led to the family adopting a stoic and pessimistic view of the future. My reaction was to get out and do as many different and interesting things as I could. I did not expect, on past form, to live much beyond my early thirties and I thought that I had better make the very best of life’s opportunities. Now, I feel, as Louis Armstrong said that ‘if I had known that I was going to live so long, I would have taken better care of myself’.

I was also unusual in having two fathers – being the posthumous son of an academic and the stepson of a very practical hardworking dairy farmer. It tried for years to reconcile the two strands – for example, in undertaking a PhD on the Cattle Industry in the Northern Territory. In the end, I think that I have decided to just be myself – that, I guess all that any of us should do – try to be genuine, strive to awaken and create as little bad karma as possible in other people’s lives.

There is the Buddhist philosophy creeping in – but my stepfather Horace also tackled the same issues, saying 'what's right is right; what's wrong is nobody's business'; ‘quietly do your best, angels can do no more’; and ‘what goes over the horse's back, comes out under its belly’ (in other words, in different ways in the long-run, life tends to reward good with good and bad with bad).