The day I found myself on vacation  twittering  that I was  at the Guggenheim Museum listening to Baroque-styled  Christmas carols, was a real eye opener for me.

There I was on day 10 of a four week sabbatical tethered to my iPhone like a baby to its mother's milk. It seemed, for a moment at least, that I was more interested in broadcasting and having my friends live vicariously through my status updates than experiencing the moments in the moment. But by day''''''s end, that  Guggenheim tweet became  my last,  I decided there and then  to  cease the constant twittering, get unglued from face-book and  close  my laptop and iPhone  so that  I could  really enjoy my vacation.

For any workaholic that'''s as difficult as a gay man becoming the Pope.

But don''t you dare snicker, aren't you just like me? You check your phones constantly so you'''"re never out of the loop. You look at the  white spaces on your calendars and they'"ve been inked in for months. You"'re always plugged in. Work is a  major priority. Hobbies are viewed either as ridiculous or self-indulgent, maybe they are even non existent. And your to do list buries you like sand. Any wonder then it"'s so hard to de-stress.

"I knew someday you would have to stop the grind," remarked a colleague, Nneka Luke, " but you had to come  to that realisation yourself."

Nneka was responding a comment I made that the best part of my vacation was the realisation of how much I enjoyed spending time with my husband and that we didn''t do it often enough because of conflicting schedules. In 2010 I vowed to change and listed the ways how: telecommute more, spend less time on the road, stop working on weekends, take more frequent vacations.

For sure I wish I was one of the lucky few, like designer Stefan Sagmeister  who I read about just 2 weeks ago. Sagmesiter closes his New York City-based design studio every seven years for an entire year to get his creative juices flowing. His  goal is to take five years off of his retirement and intersperse them throughout his working years (isn't that an idea we should all embrace) He"''s already taken two such sabbaticals, and he uses the "experiments" he conducts during them to inform what he produces during working years.

There is much to learn from this because while a 12 month sabbatical may not always be practical for many of us, the point is our best creative work is done in times of rest untethered from the entrapments of  rushing working, working, rushing. The time has come to stop romanticising that it"s super cool to be busy. All the time.

Time alone. A moment or two. Home early. A walk with the  dogs. 8 hours sleep. A work -less weekend. Gifts to myself. Time spent with loved ones. All of which I'"ve finally realised are noble as they are  necessary. 

“There are bodies everywhere,” Gary Tuchman, the CNN reporter said 2 evenings ago, as he walked through an anonymous Port Au Prince Street. Holding the camera as Tuchman looked directly into it  was his CNN colleague who peered constantly into his lens  even as he looked back over his shoulders to the ground  to avoid stepping on the dead . “Some of the bodies” Tuchman continued, “are covered with sheets, Haitians are putting these sheets over the dead as a mark of respect.”

Those words struck me. 

How in the midst of immediate and devastating despair, the emotionally shell-shocked and the physically hurt would care enough to find sheets to cover those who had not made it. It was from here the 1,000 Clean Sheets for Haiti was formed. 

Like you, from the moment I heard about Haiti’s devastation from the earthquake, I wanted to do something. There were many wonderful humanitarian efforts already underway. My friend, Laura Asbjornsen, at Caribbean Airlines started a relief fund after learning from the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies that cash donations would have the most impact in the short term. Is There Not A Cause, an NGO, started a food drive,  banks set up accounts and the Chamber of Commerce announced plans to help. But I wanted to do something more hands on and personal, maybe it was because it would curb the sense of hopelessness I felt, but  this was the first time ever that  I cursed having a business and being obligated to people other than myself. I was in pain and wanted to do something, short of flying to Haiti.

I am certain of what it was that  touched me. Haiti is my neighbour.  There are people there who look just like me.  I felt an impotent rage for what had been done and not done for the country. And guilt that my concern of the moment was whether Beyonce’s concert was worth my money. The thousands of  crushed structures with the human limbs peeking out from them  riveted me. And  when I saw a 15 day old baby being tended to by two volunteers who gingerly wrapped gauze around his head, I wept and wept uncontrollably.

Yes, I called a hotline and gave money. But I also found something more hands on that I could do. 

Today,  Mango Media Caribbean will begin its 1000 Clean Sheets Project for Haiti. Inspired by the resilience of the Haitian and Trucman's simple words about sheets, my staff and I have been gathering boxes from the supermarkets, sticking photos from the newspapers onto them and calling around and asking if we can place our boxes in different offices. All we want are 1,000 clean sheets. Sheets are something most of us have tucked away in our cupboards, some of which we don’t and won't ever use. And they are  inexpensive enough to purchase, brand new.

All we ask is that  they be clean and you make the effort to drop them off at our office building at 55 Dundonald Street Office, a gray colonial building whose entrance is on Dere Street. You can call 627-2023 for directions and any other information. You can start your own drive, decorate your own box, we can pick them up wherever you are located. We will also be making calls and asking for pledges of cotton sheets or blankets.

I hope you can help because if history serves me correct, what I know for sure is that Haiti will no longer be headline news in a couple of weeks. 

Let one paparazzi discover Tiger Woods whereabouts  and we know what will drive the news of the day. 

We have two weeks to do this, and your simple gift of sheets may ease your sense of hopelessness and make some kind of difference, albeit small, to those whose bodies will have to be buried in mass graves and to those who will be forced to sleep, anywhere they can find the space, outdoors.

Thank you.

I am in love with a lot of things in life. 

My husband. My dogs. My king-sized bed. The picture with my Dad and I on the mantle piece with our hands raised in triumph. Even the home fried chicken that is sold from the back of the white, beaten up van outside my office gate.  

I am also  in love with  NPR.

I discovered NPR ( National Public Radio)  quite by accident fifteen years ago. I had returned to my tiny, one bedroom apartment after a long day at a TV studio in  Boston, Massachusetts where I produced a news programme. Because I worked 16 hours  a day creating  television news,  the last thing I wanted to do was turn on another set when I came home, so I bought a colourful red radio whose brightness cheered up my  space.

After one ridiculously stressful night I turned the dial searching for my favourite smooth  jazz station and stumbled across a great interview with the singer, Jewel. Remember this was about 15 years ago. Jewel had a significant  underground Indie following but she was certainly not the big country /pop star that she is today. During the interview Jewel, with only a guitar for a companion, sang, answered questions and recounted her  desire to go mainstream. 

I was very much attracted to the style of interviewing which was direct, easy, researched, thorough.  

I’ve been hooked since.

NPR has the most unique mix of science, pop culture, news, business, arts & life programmes. And it made me a better critical thinker, a stronger journalist, a better writer.  That’s a lot, I know,  for a 24 hour talk radio station to do, but my claim is  unreservedly true. 

Fifteen years later I still tune in.  I subscribe to their podcasts in iTunes and listen to  most of the syndicated shows. I hoard  my favourites for those long drives or jogs that deserve them. Terry Gross continues to be my favourite interviewer of all times 

Here’s the thing I love best NPR  though and why they continue to be on my favourite list. 

The team of producers prove day in and day out that that even when a medium is 90 years old, it's possible to reinvent it. Daily, they take the flat and linear structure of radio and make it modern and new again (their web site is comprehensive, uncluttered and easy to navigate and their  I phone application is tailor made  for life on the go)

NPR is amazing. Tune in or read their great stories on line. I guarantee you’ll be smarter for it.

..And when you’re afraid what do you do?

I think you have 2 choices:

1) Crawl into a fetal position

2) Start thinking.

Of course 2 can lead back to 1 but if you’re clever, you  delve into some  real creative thinking, the kind that provides solution and which in turn fuels  your ability to see things differently. And act accordingly.

 Creativity is necessary to combat fear. Of this  I am sure. 

I just had a chance to look at my blog statistics.

Six months ago I used to obsess about the metrics;  that was  when the numbers inched up like a caterpillar on a tree trunk. 

Out of sheer frustration I stopped.“ Better to focus on the writing, I told myself.”

And I did, posting consistently on media, communication and PR issues mostly 3-4 times  a week. 

 Today the blog’s independent tracker registers over 31,000 unique visitors sharing links and comments on a platform that is only 462 days old.

I'm not speechless very often. But in this moment I am.

Thank You

Judette

It is low tide.  A huge white seagull glides over the blue island waters and settles down gently, taking up his post at the mouth of the bay. Standing guard on his thin elegant legs, he picks off the trespassers who naively swim too close to the shore. When he is full and the water begins to intrude again he takes off, a large flap of wings arcing over the bay. 

Every day since I've arrived in Barbados the great bird has followed this pattern, like clockwork -and yet nothing like clockwork. This was my first real vacation in four years.  But like any good machine I was programmed to behave in a particular way.  In my  bright yellow  suitcase I had stuffed my laptop and an Alice Walker novel. On my schedule were days to be spent lounging under the sun's rays, but also penciled in were appointments with prospective clients. On my balcony I ate frighteningly fattening breadfruit chips as I scoured over notes for my meetings. I had unconsciously turned my first real vacation into a stiff of a working one.

How unlike the seagull I was, it belonging to a world of creatures who followed a natural course; I belonging to a world of creatures who have fractured continuity into quarter hours and micro seconds.

The seagull reminded me how  much being an entrepreneur had taken away from my ability to relax.  For four years my life had been wrapped around a certifiable, managed event: business building. There was certainly no cosmic timing or internal logic to that. Business meeting, receivables, employee issues, billings, have nothing  in common with the shifts worked by the seagull. The contrast was jarring.

In that moment of observing the seagull, really observing, I closed the cover of my laptop and made a different resolve. I canceled my appointments, I finished my Alice Walker novel, sipped on Pina Coladas. My vacation became a vacation again. I ate when I was hungry, slept when I was tired -and when I was not ,- I made friends with Bajans in the bar.  I did a great deal of the things we call nothing. I hadn't done it in four years.

The most basic of  human rhythms can disappear in our workday lives , the way I suppose the sounds of birds disappears in a city. Another columnist once gave a pedestrian, probably accurate explanation. "From the time we are small," she says, " we tend to wake up with alarms and work to someone else's schedule. We have lunch when its lunchtime we go to bed at bedtime. Sunrise and sunset are less relevant to our lives than 8 to 4 and 9 to 5.  Most of us work for fifty weeks a year in order to have two to ourselves. There is very little room on shopping lists and weekly calendars for being natural. We need literally to vacate the premises of our ordinary life." 

It has to be something of a miracle that given the time, this period of our global history that any of us can find the time reconnect, to go in and out of our own nature. But in the midst of numbers crunching and keeping up with the latest trends, there is a centre waiting to be rediscovered and it can be done only when the body is at rest. That may be what a real vacation is all about. Yet I don't know if I can take the simplicity and the rhythms of nothingness back home. Like fragile sea shells, layered in a glass jar, it does not travel well. By the time I get from aircraft to office the subtlety will have been jarred if only by the sharp ring of the telephone and a client's demand.

But in my list making, schedule arranging, clock abiding life, I can retreat -at least in memory-to the image of a seagull on a bay.

Think for a minute. 

How much time do you really spend in silence, just thinking?  I am not talking about the kind of reflecting  that you do on your drive to work, in the shower or even on your 1-mile afternoon jog. I am referring  to the kind of reflection that you do on a day’s retreat, ensconced in a space where there is silence. 

You are not listening to music, you are not reading Fortune 500, you are not watching the news, you are not twittering. You are simply thinking.

How much time do you spend doing that? 

A quick survey of my friends indicate that too few do.  It’s easy to understand why. Who has the time?  In our treadmill society where everyone (family, friends, employees) wants their needs taken care of at the same time, it seems that modern day thinking demands that we be always be in motion. The quiet, reflective kind of pondering appears to be a luxury for which few of us  have the coins.

But is it really? Thinking is the way we actively develop new ideas, invent strategy and get creative. It’s  one of the hardest things for people to do, let alone do well. 

Recently a friend who owned  a small  technology firm told me that he was going to close up  shop and take a sabbatical. I was green with envy. Not many of us are willing and able to make such a complete mental shift. But it was only after speaking with him  that I realised the process of thinking requires a kind  of discipline that allows you to see that  it’s real value lies in asking yourself questions relevant to your life  and then considering the range of possible answers. 

“I had been thinking of  making a switch for a year,” my friend said, “every month I took half-day to see how it would work, the impact  it would create.   and to examine my  options.”

My friend never found easy answers.

“At first, most of my questions led to other questions, but I trusted the process .”

Turns out that generating definitive, single-pointed answers is the result of only one kind of thinking. The second, perhaps more powerful kind of reflection,  as in the case of my friend, leads to less answers and more, you guessed it,  questions. And that’s okay. 

To help his process my friend gave himself  a timeframe.  He accepted the answers at the end of a 12 month process.  Another way to come to a conclusion, I suppose,  is  to ponder upon something until your original question yields no further questions. In my case, I accept an answer only when it profoundly illuminates my original question. It’s must be a true light bulb moment.

I am still a big believer in my Ideas Jam Day, even after 11 years in business.  On that day I switch off my cell,  I close off all the external noise  and I think. Who do I want to be? What would I like to have? What should I share more of? How can I be more effective? What is the bigger meaning  to my life?

These are my questions.  I hope they get you thinking.

I have  a picture of my friend Brian fishing on the lakes of New Hampshire in New England and each time I have to  write a business proposal I take it out of my photo album, pinch out the creases and place it on my desk. 

It serves as inspiration.

I remember the summer of my contentment when  the photograph was taken, and my wonder at how Brian could rake in  fish after fish while my line remained inert and lifeless. "It's all in the attitude," he laughed rolling  in another whopper of a salmon. 

That was the Kodak moment I captured. And that is the moment I have framed on my desk. I defer to that picture because I think that attitude  is also the secret of  writing a winning business proposal. Like fishing, I suppose it requires a bit of hope and a whole lot of unyielding  faith  in the enterprise; that the proposal you spend hours hammering out will be as enticing for the client as any good bait.

That's not always the case and I learnt this lesson the hard way. In the early days, I used to chase every piece of business that came my way. I was selective-how do I say this tactfully- like a dog in heat. For days after I sent out a proposal I would stew in anticipation. Hopeful, I would wait for the call back sometimes even jumping the broom and calling the client  myself but that was until  two earthquakes hit my psyche all within the same month. 

At the time a prospective client called requesting a proposal for a PR strategy. It was a large company with a successful product and a stale image. I was overjoyed at the prospect of winning this potentially lucrative contract.  Naively -okay I confess stupidly,- I  responded by writing a detailed account of my ideas.  15 hours and 4 boxes of mixed Chinese chicken later, I had conceptualized  what I  instinctively knew was an exciting and  targeted PR proposal.  The client called the following week, and I was told that the  proposal they had wanted asap  was being placed on hold. "The budget is tight now, but we'll give you a call when we're ready."  Three weeks later the very same company started a campaign that bore a horrific twin-like resemblance to my own and I knew I had been taken for the worst kind of ride. The incident shattered  the last bastion of my innocence.

It is never easy to take the long view of things, especially  in a culture of 10-second sound bites and  instant messaging service. But in  a process as slow and complex as growing my  own business, I know that the ability to  learn from my mistakes would always have to be my anchor.

Writing winning proposals will forever be an important part of acquiring new  business and retaining old clients. I understand its importance: a good proposal sets apart from my competition, it  increases my hit rate on getting the businesses I want, it allows the name of my business to get out there, and it position me as a consultant of choice. 

But I no longer believe that the proposals I write should be  a detailed blueprint that contains all my ideas, but something more like an artist's sketch, a  document that is sufficient to sell the idea -the concept of what I am  proposing. 

Before I start writing,  I try to  gather information about the clients needs, expectations and  problems. Then I write briefly the project's objective statement, developing  in turn the project's concept, time line, evaluation plan, and  budget. Most importantly in all my proposals I let my client know  that I understand what they are trying to achieve. Armed with the proposal I develop the attitude-or maybe it is in  writing the proposal  that the attitude comes-, and this is my favourite 'go get 'em' line; "we have the solution to your problems, our proposal demonstrates this, now can we do business?" 

Thankfully, now, the answer is invariably yes!

During  Fashion Week (Trinidad and Tobago) which begins today, skinny women and chiselled men will walk the ramp at the Hyatt showcasing dream collections from some of the country''s top designers. 

But in the audience, as Claudia  Pegus watches the debut of her CPFS line after its six-year hiatus, she will  recall that less than  a week ago she was held at gunpoint along with some of  her employees when three bandits (two were female) brandishing a gun  entered her Woodbrook atelier  with a promise to kill. 

After 15 minutes of terror and ravishing the contents of the design shop,  the thieves did not leave behind body bags but they left instead gaping  scars on the designer's memory which even as she cut, pinned, and tucked material onto the mannequins transformed the nature of her debut collection.

“When I started designing the CPFS line just before Carnival, it was going to be called Illusion.  I wanted to play on my strong reputation as a couturier and how it had obscured the fact that I did ready-to -wear with ease. The collection was a poke at me, a reminder to others.   It was supposed to be fun and beautiful and light."

When the Pegus line debuts today, it will be anything but.

“After the incident, I felt (and still feel) emotionally drained and as I resumed work the pieces in the collection began to take a different form. On hearing the news of what happened, many people called to commiserate. As we spoke I began to realise how many of my friends and even acquaintances had been direct victims of crime. Many are living in fear. It's like we all feel trapped. The well to do and the middle class are trapped, no matter how high the wall or strong the burglar proof. Perhaps even the bandits are trapped in their ignorance and their environment. But mostly I felt that my sense of safety and my well being had been ripped away"

Pegus' CPFS line had a new name and direction.  

Since last Friday, Claudia and her staff have worked non-stop to produce Trapped, a collection, carefully constructed with strings and ties and rope.   Skinny female models and chiselled men will be utilised to make strong anti-crime messages.  Masks will be worn. Spray paint will be utilised and a character used to specifically to convey the message of confinement will surprise and shock.  

"Can crime inspire? 

“I think it makes you feel angry and ravished and despairing but I also I think creativity can come from all kinds of sources. This is a very strong line," said Pegus. 

Trapped comes on the heels of the designer's recent show of a stunning collection of dresses at the recently concluded Fifth Summit of the Americas Fashion. 

Last week, Pegus was tied and ordered to lie face down on the floor. She was later taken around the shop with a gun pointed to the back of her head to identify valuables.

 None of the bandits wore masks. All were under 25. 

Tough Question

"Do you mind telling me what was their ethnicity?"

Fashion designer Claudia Pegus was faced with the matter-of-fact question from her German-born internet specialist on Saturday afternoon.

She had called him to discuss protective options for her web based accounts after her computer was stolen  from her  Woodbrook atelier on Friday evening in  dramatic fashion as she and two  of her employees  were bound, gagged  and held at gun point.

"It was a question I couldn't answer" said Pegus, "I felt ashamed.”

A Harrowing Tale

To have the designer tell the tale is a strong reminder of  how clever and arrogant bandits have become,  and how slippery the slide  is when we stop believing, even for a nano second,  that we are all marked targets.

It's 8: 30 on Friday night.

Most of the employees at the design shop have gone home. Three, including Ms Pegus decide to work late in preparation for Trinidad and Tobago Fashion Week.

The doorbell rings.

An employee uses the security peephole and sees two young ladies. He thinks they are models. He cracks open the door, the women push their way in along with a man who ferociously brandishes a gun.

“ All yuh better have  **###**#**!!!**  ## money here tonight or ah go kill someone, if ah eh get no money ah taking someone to the ATM an doh mess with me because ah eh playing. One out of de three of alyuh gehing kill tonight. Only two leaving here alive so doh try nothing stupid 'cause ah go blow everybody head out...ah eh fraid to kill...ah kill plenty man already and ah eh fraid to kill ah woman, I real feeling to **###**#**!!!  ##**   shoot someone here tonight!”

He points the gun to Ms Pegus’ head with one hand, and pushes and shoves her and the employee into the back room where another worker waits. The two female bandits are able assistants.

" Yeah, shoot he," one of the women yells. They tie up the employees and one of the female bandits kicks and beats the male worker and places him to lie face down on the floor next to the other employee who is also bound and gagged.

Ms Pegus on the other hand gets different treatment. She is tied  too and ordered to lie face down on the floor as well and  shortly after with a gun to her head pressing at the juncture of her neck and head,  she is taken room to room to identify valuables.

“ I started praying. For sure I felt I would die and in that moment I asked God that if it was to happen then let it be one bullet, let it be quick and let it be me alone."

God was not on speed dial that night and after 15 torturous minutes ravishing the atelier the bandits left replete.

None of them wore masks. All were under 25. They were all Afro Trinidadians.

To make a statement

On Saturday evening Ms Pegus' home line rings incessantly, as word spreads well wishers are plenty.  But so are those asking some very practical questions: Was the Fashion Week collection stolen? Will she be able to produce in time for Friday launch?  Does she have the creativity to create?

Finding the energy is like digging in a bottomless pit. But dig deep the designer must.  There is a lot at stake

After a six year hiatus,  Ms Pegus will launch the return of her CPFS brand, a line that caters to a younger demographic and which forms a bridge between her higher-end couture line and customised collections.

" There is a lot going through my mind today, I'm emotionally weak and very traumatised, I think I am now coming to terms with what happened and I am reevaluating my options."

Ms Pegus says she will be ready for Fashion Week, her staff have offered to go the extra distance, and she'll use the debut of her CPFS line to make a strong statement about crime, youth and ethnicity."

"I think it is my duty to not feel ashamed."