Here is a screenshot of part of the short booklet.
The introduction of the booklet says:
The following three â€˜value modesâ€™ are one handy way of understanding a peopleâ€™s worldviews. They are based on surveys of thousands of people around the world on what values drive their behaviours and opinions. I often ask people to sort themselves into these groups as workshop icebreaker…
These value modes help us pitch messages that resonate with the different audiences in our organisations and communities, which is vital when we are looking for behaviour change.
Even more importantly, we recognise that people might make the same sustainable decisions for entirely different â€“ and legitimate â€“ reasons. Personally, I find it inspiring that there are lots of different ways of thinking about sustainability.
I wish that the booklet included a link and credit to the original authors but this information got lost between my draft and the graphic design publication. For far more detail, you can dive in at Culture Dynamics. Hat tip again to Futerra.
We did something new on the weekend — rogaining. An hour north of Melbourne, our team of five friends competed with a hundred other teams to find as many checkpoints in the forest as we could within six hours. No smartphones or GPS allowed, just a compass and map.
It’s a good thing I’m on Week 6 of 9 the Couch to 5k running program. It means I can comfortably run for 20 minutes. My heart didn’t let me down as we tramped through prickly bush, climbed Steep Track and power walked towards our targets.
On the way to our third checkpoint, I tripped and crashed.
‘Are you okay?’ my team mates asked.
Surprised, I couldn’t answer.
It was exactly like the two seconds immediately after a toddler falls over, when you can see him working out if he is going to cry.
‘Joan, are you okay?’ they asked again
Mm. Still no pain.
‘Uh yes,’ I finally said. ‘Okay.’
As they helped me up, I said, ‘I haven’t fallen since I was a kid. It doesn’t hurt like I remember.’
My friends patched me up with antiseptic and giant bandages, then we were on our way.
I had just enjoyed a dinner at Monash University in the middle suburbs of Melbourne and expected to take a late night bus, then train, back into the city. I was very pleased when one of the guests offered to drive me home.
‘Actually, you can drive yourself home,’ David said. ‘You see, I have an electric car, which is part of the government’s pilot programme. As part of the deal, I’ve promised to get as many people as I can to have a go driving it.’
What luck! This would be my first time in an electric car.
An electric car has its own quirks. I drove the Mitsubishi i-Miev, which doesn’t have a key. Instead, you use a button to start the engine. The gears are similar to an automatic car, with the addition of a ‘brake regeneration’ gear. I used it in the Burnley Tunnel to slow down. Instead of braking with the pedal, I put in the brake gear and the car slows itself down quickly and captures the energy for the electric battery.
On the CityLink tollway, I felt a large freight truck pushing up towards me at 100 kilometres per hour.
‘You’re in the left lane.’ David said. ‘Why is it so close?’
‘He probably wants a closer look at the electric car,’ I said.
After collecting nine toilet rolls in a week, I spent a few hours on Hallowe’en Saturday going back to my childhood. With Aoife cheering me on, I painstakingly traced out the classic toilet symbols for ‘male’ and ‘female’ on foamboard. Then I coloured them in with permanent marker.
The result? I won best costume of the party.
Judge Mandy, explained. ‘The theme of the party was to come dressed as something you’re afraid of. Joan is the winner because, as we women all know, public toilets are terrible frightening places.’
After receiving my award, the Joker (the Heath Ledger incarnation) and a jelly fish came to congratulate me.
‘Great costume,’ they said. ‘But we’ve got to ask. Why are women’s toilets so scary? Are they scarier than men’s toilets?’
‘It’s not that women’s toilets are worse,’ I said. ‘It’s just that for women, public toilets are… well, it’s a more contact sport.’
This Saturday, I am going to a Hallowe’en party. The theme is to come dressed as something you’re scared of.
I’ve decided to go as a bee or a public toilet. I haven’t yet decided.
For my bee costume, I would buy yellow duct tape and wrap it around a black skivvy. Maybe I can fashion some antennae and some kind of stinger using pipe cleaners. But wings, what about wings? And the extra two limbs?
The public toilet is a little bit easier. I can hang a WC sign on me with a ‘woman’ silhouette on the front and a ‘man’ silhouette at the back. Around me, I can loop empty toilet rolls, which are a great fear within my general fear of public toilets.
In anticipation, I have taken to collecting empty toilet rolls.
‘Look!’ I exclaimed, waving three empty toilet rolls at my housemate Aoife, who had just arrived home.
‘Well!’ she laughed ‘Have you been conquering your fears and taking toilet rolls from public toilets?’
‘Of course not,’ I waved excitedly. ‘I got these from work! I think we use up lots of toilet paper at work!’
Two weeks ago, Daniel visited us from his base in Amsterdam. Daniel and Damjan are ‘foodies’ and I like food, so we booked ourselves into Gordon Ramsay’s flagship restaurant on Royal Hospital Road in Chelsea.
We spent five hours there (7pm to 1am) on a Tuesday night. The artistically plated dishes were full great flavours and textures. The wait staff read our minds.
Daniel has a review and photos on his website so I now direct you there…
I volunteered to take photos at the gala 50th birthday celebration of Damjan’s boss. I love taking photos at events, especially when I don’t know many people. Being designated photographer gives me an excuse not to be awkward when I have no one to talk to but also gives me an opening to strike up conversation with people.
The only trick at this party was that the birthday man wanted me to use his camera, the Nikon D300. I’m sure it is an excellent camera (and it must be, costing Â£1000). It also had a rather magnificent zoom lens.
However, I’ve never used a Nikon SLR before. As soon as I arrived at the party, I had to frantically flick through the camera quick guide to get myself up to speed. I felt the pressure to do a credible job as the photographer for this milestone event.
It wasn’t until I had to do this did I appreciate just how much I had accustomed myself to my Olympus E-300. I’ve had it for 4.5 years. It is a dinosaur digital SLR. There’s no need for me to upgrade, though. I think I’m probably still limited by my skill more than my equipment.
Here are some photos. That’s me in the middle. I found a beautiful mask of red and black velvet with black tassells. It has a headband rather than a elastic that goes around the back of my head. The headband makes it comfortable and also avoids squishing hair to the sides of my head.