Can Childhood Dreams Come True?

When I was a kid, I had one recurring dream (that wasn’t a nightmare about Witches from Roald Dahl’s book of the same name). I would climb our fence and jump off it with a towel strapped to my back, just before I hit the ground I would swoop up into the air flying away or towards whatever that dream happened to be about (giants, piles of lollies, you get the drift). I know lots of you have had the same or similar dreams, maybe even a few of you have acted them out with the same painful consequences I encountered, but in watching the following video, which I’m ga-ga about, I realised that if my childhood dream of flying could come true surely nothing is impossible.



If you think back to your childhood your dream may not have been flying, it may have been going to Disneyland, having a happy family with 7 kids, buying your Mum a brand new car, starting your own business or eating 25 big boss cigars in a single sitting.

Maybe you even dreamed of selling a sibling (hey – if James Blunt can do it…)



I don’t know what your childhood dreams were, but I do know that in this world, not much is out of the realms of possibility. Take 5 minutes today and think about what you dreamt of when you were a child, and if you still want it, get to it. I’ve put base jumping in the flying suit in my goal box what’s going in yours?

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By Kirsty Dunphey with 1 comment

Swallow Your Pride, Keep Your Staff

The year was 1987 and I was a plucky young grade 3 girl in a country school with fewer than 30 students. As such, I was in a grade 3-4-5-6 class. The object of my affection was a floppy haired blonde grade 6 boy.

Each day I would make eyes at him over the crayon box and then eventually, slowly but surely, we became friends. That is until “the briefcase incident” when our burgeoning relationship came to a startling halt.

Sixth grade boy was up in front of the class telling everyone about this new briefcase his father had bought him. “Me father bought me this great briefcase for my birthday…” he started.

Without even thinking I corrected him “my father you mean”. What degenerated over the next few minutes was grade 6 boy insisting that it was his father and not mine who had purchased the briefcase and me wanting to be sucked into the earth whole for the sheer embarrassment of it all.

I’ve often thought back to that “the briefcase incident” in my dealings managing staff. It’s helped me bite my tongue or take a conversation into a private area when I’ve had a criticism or suggestion for a staff member, and while I didn’t end up with the blonde 6th grader, hopefully the incident has helped me a little bit with staff retention in the days since then.

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By Kirsty Dunphey with 1 comment