Maggie

The iPhone icon whirs around until there’s a FaceTime connection. Maggie’s happy face, framed by soft, wispy blonde highlights, appears on the other end, beaming in from a backyard in Balmain. The sun flickers around her outline as she moves to a more comfortable position giving the impression she’s sporting a halo. She’s looking down at the phone so there’s some glare as the sun’s rays diverge around her head in multiple directions. It reminds me of the crown adorned by the Statue of Liberty. She seems content. It could be because she’s returned from a morning boot camp session and I suspect the endorphins have well and truly kicked in by now, the slow and fast twitch fibres having reached their natural equilibrium.

There’s a lightness to her voice. It’s youthful and melodic, like it’s on the cusp of announcing an idea, which truth be told, is often the case. She has eyes that dance and when she gets excited they sparkle and seem to get larger. They’re usually accompanied by gesticulations like raised shoulders and a hand over the mouth, as if to qualify a statement or share a secret. She’s a little bit cheeky, fun, full of life and has an infectious laugh. She’s so genuinely interested in many things, is a great conversationalist, and has this lovely, natural way of bringing others into a discussion.

As you might have guessed Maggie is not one to let the grass (literally) grow under her feet. I caught up with her a little while ago for a coffee. She arrived with an A4 book in hand, layered with multi-coloured tabs, each colour representing a collective aspect of her life, such as family/friends, career and hobbies. The funny thing is she says she’s not quite sure what she wants to do and so segmenting her life into these components helps her organise her thought processes. It makes me realise that people think in different ways, if we’re talking Myers Briggs then I get it in one sense. I am an off the Richter scale INFP which to break it down is the type of person who asks ‘have we got the tent?’ three hours drive into a camping trip. Maggie is a systematic thinker, she lays all the options on the table and works through them methodically, weighing pros and cons.

I respectfully disagree with the sentiment that she doesn’t fully know what she wants to do. I think in some respects she does. She has a unique antennae for seeking out events and initiatives that are of interest to her, and there are many. She’s a fan of podcasts, follows certain writers, is involved in a book club, and has recently taken up bike riding and shooting hoops at the local basketball court. She’s also engaged in the socials. Effective opportunity/swiping synchronisation on Instagram led to participation in an Archibald finalist’s art class. She shows me the product of her efforts, a beautiful painting of little ice creams. From public affairs to the creative she’s invested in many things. 

She is passionate about Indigenous issues and continues to work on national policy to improve health outcomes for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians. She supports immersing oneself in cultural activities to better understand the injustices experienced by First Nations people and how we can contribute to the healing process. In keeping with her myriad interests and friendship groups, she’s an avid walker, and joined a trek to traverse sections of the Larapinta Trail, a spectacular trail in the heart of Central Australia. She shows me the photos and the sky is blue, so blue, while the earth around the rocks and trees is a contrasting bright orange. The surrounds are rugged, raw, untouched. You can almost feel the spirituality of the country emanating through the photo, and the presence of the past Elders of the Arrente people. She makes you realise the more you know the more you realise you don’t know, so many unknown unknowns (with apologies to Donald Rumsfeld). The Larapinta Trail might be 230km but the rich history, the possible meanderings of knowledge, well, it must be infinite.

Maggie is an accomplished public service executive who brings a wealth of skills and experience from different sectors. She always puts managing and developing staff ahead of attaining results at any cost (even though her achievements are many). Case in point, she lives an organisation’s values (typically integrity, trust, respect), is collaborative and brings people on the journey. She’s deeply committed to staff empowerment and sharing information. Sometimes I think managers can feel threatened and withhold information to their own detriment and that of the team. I’m not sure what drives this, whether it’s personal insecurity, or a bad experience. Needless to say when you think about how many hours you spend at work (or at home if you’re in Melbourne or Sydney), if you have a good manager then you’ve won a form of lottery. 

I remember once working in the Melbourne office of a Commonwealth entity for a day. The floor was shared among state branches of other federal departments. A lady who worked for another agency approached me and asked if I knew Maggie. After responding in the affirmative she pressed upon me Maggie’s impact on her life. They used to work together and during that time Maggie had helped this woman navigate a difficult period in her life, so much so, she’s never forgotten it and feels truly indebted. Speaks volumes doesn’t it? It’s louder, more sustainable, than any impressive ledger. 

She’s had a tough year. Her brother was diagnosed with cancer and more recently her sister was diagnosed with the same insidious disease. News like this can take a toll.  I’d be willing to bet given the six degrees of separation most at some point in their lives have received news like this about a loved one. I certainly have. It can make you go into your shell, to reflect and become reclusive and fair enough too. Our friends, family, loved ones, all of us, have but one life and all too often treasured souls are taken too early. She’s digested this news and its impact and hasn’t fought it. As Eckhart Tolle might suggest she’s felt the pain, felt it acutely, absorbed it and sat with it but now she’s emerging like a butterfly from its cocoon, inquisitive and reaching new heights. She’ll still feel the pain, it’ll always linger, but she acknowledges it then harnesses it to cherish the sacred moments we have on this planet with loved ones. 

Maggie is incredibly proud of her family. She is now grandmother to a beautiful baby boy and she shows me some footage as the happy little fellow giggles away to the delight of his parents and their friends. They live in the UK and owing to the global pandemic greetings are limited to Zoom and FaceTime. I feel a pang of sadness for her not being able to hold, caress and whisper secrets to her own. But the day will come when she is reunited with her clan and they can listen to that chortle first-hand, building on those initial connections forged over optic fibres. 

She’s recently become a mentor to a university student and I can’t help but think how lucky that student is. How they’ll be showered with authentic support, how they’ll walk with their head a little higher after the conversation and grow in confidence as time goes on. There are some people who invigorate you, who turbocharge your sense of self, who make you just want to get out there and suck the marrow of life. Maggie is one of them.