Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Bonnie, Childhood, Family, Food, Health, Holiday, Mental Health, Rosie, Walking
As many of you know, over the last year, I’ve got healthy.
Through exercise and a very regimented and controlled calorie/sugar/carb diet [except on Christmas and Birthday’s where I eat a whole loaf of Sourdough with salted butter and raspberry jam] I’ve lost over 46kg.
Or said another way, I’ve lost the equivalent of my 10 year old son.
Not only that, but maybe the first time in 40+ years, I am in the healthy BMI range.
Yes, I know the whole BMI system is currently being evaluated because frankly, it’s not fit for purpose, however this is still a huge thing for me.
But not the biggest thing. Oh no …
Because despite now eating well, dressing better and basically being in the best health of my adult life, the biggest difference in me is this:
Yep, that’s my walking chart for January. Or should I say, for most of January.
And full disclosure, of the days shown, 10 were during the festive break and another 10 days were when I was not allowed to drive due to my eye problem.
But, even then, I walked over HALF A MILLION STEPS in 28 days.
HALF A FUCKING MILLION.
That’s 19,000 a day!!!
And you know what, I loved every step of it.
I walk before work.
I walk on client calls.
I walk in the lunch break.
I walk when I get home after dinner.
I’m a fucking walking machine, and yet a little over a year or so ago, I’d have probably driven to the shower if I could.
Of all the things that have happened on my health journey, my love of walking has probably been the most surprising. But what it also has done is reveal how I used to manage stress.
Truth be told, I never thought I suffered with stress.
Sure, there were the odd times it was tough, but generally I thought it was all OK.
However when I decided to sort myself out, I would continually catch myself walking to the fridge. Not because I was hungry, but because I was looking for a distraction or a diversion from something related to work.
I’d deal with my ‘auto-pilot fridge visits’ by forcing myself to go for a walk instead … however over the weeks I realized how often I was out pounding the streets which revealed to me, arguably the first time, how much stress I was probably dealing with throughout my life.
I should point out that when I say ‘stress’, I don’t mean anything like so many people have to deal with.
For me, it was more mundane stuff … like how I was going to write a deck or how was I going to cram all my meetings in.
But here’s the strange thing …
Despite walking so much, I somehow am able to do so much more.
Not because I have more energy – I’m not really sure I do – but because I have more inner calm.
I call it ‘Zen Ferocity’ … which sounds far too new age bollocks, but in essence means by being calmer, I have been able to put more intensity into what matters rather than what distracts.
Of course this shouldn’t be a surprise as there’s so much evidence on how running helps the mind … but when you have gone from walking to the fridge to walking 19,000 steps a day, it’s still a gratefully received fist in the face.
But what this walking has also done is prepare me perfectly for welcoming this into the Campbell home:
Meet Bonnie.
Or to give her, her full name – courtesy of Otis – Bonnie Bourbon Biscuit. [But we’ll just be sticking with Bonnie, hahaha]
She was only 24 days old in that photo and we don’t get her until April … but we have a very excited household.
Even our beloved Rosie may have thought she was cute …
Maybe.
And while I know owning a dog is a very different proposition than owning a cat, I can be sure of one thing.
She’s not going to be wanting for walks.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Age, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Creativity, Mum & Dad, Parents
Coming to the end of the year is always a time for reflection.
This has been an interesting year for me … with more highs than lows, but the lows have been very low.
Getting older is often about that.
For all the ‘retirement’ cliches of ‘living your best life’, the reality is it is about transitioning to a new life.
One where your value and experience is no longer deemed important by the very industry who helped you define your value and experience.
It doesn’t just reinforce the narrowing of opportunity; it reinforces the sense of being discarded. Thrown aside. Left to be taken by the earth.
It’s a pretty good metaphor for the other thing you are exposed more to …
Death.
Of people you know, friends you had, colleagues you worked with.
Some the same age as you.
Let me tell you, nothing fucks you up like seeing people you grew up with start to die.
Hell, when I was younger, I thought it was crazy I knew people who were turning 40 … but death is a whole other level of age acceptance.
So let’s be real here … growing older sucks, but as my Mum taught me, age feeds on attitude and so who you are is ultimately determined by how you live.
Look, I know I’m not going to be going out all night and rolling in at 6am before going straight into the office. But that doesn’t mean my mind has to go to bed with a cup of hot cocoa and a hot water bottle at 8pm either.
You’re as old as the limits of your curiosity.
Not liking something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t bother knowing about something. Just like not knowing about something doesn’t mean you should close your mind off to wanting to explore and investigate what’s going on.
As my Mum also taught me, ‘being interested in what others are interested in’ is one of the greatest gifts you can have.
And I am … and I have to say, I bloody love it
Doesn’t mean I always understand what’s going on.
Doesn’t mean I always agree with what’s going on.
Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the privilege I have in being able to do it.
But it does mean I know that I am always better for the simple act of being exposed to it.
Talking of exposure …
It seems the desire to be exposed to things is dying.
Instead of exploration into the unknown, people prefer curating.
Living life through a metaphorical ‘greatest hits’ playlist rather than losing themselves in the deep cuts and histories.
Hey, that’s their choice and I respect that … but not only does it mean they miss out on the nuance, they never understand how people got to where they’re at.
Or where they may be heading.
It’s why I find it funny when I hear so many people talk about ‘culture’ without ever realizing what it means.
Thinking it’s all about knowing what’s going on rather than understanding where it’s taking us.
Looking down rather than up.
Looking narrow rather than broad.
Only focusing on the present rather than future.
Or having an appreciation of the past.
I swear this attitude is a deliberate act.
A choice to save themselves from having to face their increasing irrelevance.
A decision designed to protect their ego, knowledge and importance.
Of course, this is ironic as fuck given the absolute fastest way to being left behind is to choose to put on your blinkers.
But I get it … fuck, I’ve had to deal with this reality for years and in no way am I saying I’ve got all my shit together, the thing I know is while we’re all part of culture, sailing through it isn’t the same as swimming in it.
So while I get the energy to swim lessens the older you get, the reality is age has nothing to do with relevance. What it’s really about is whether you’re comfortable being uncomfortable or you want the cosy-zone.
And while it’s OK to choose the latter, doing this not only limits who you are, it limits who you can become.
Whether you’re 24 or 54.
Which is why the older I get, the more I understand something my Dad used to tell me:
“Get the most out of life or life will take the most out of you”.
Filed under: Childhood, Daddyhood, Family, Jill, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
So I should start by pointing out that the title of this post is misleading.
Because while having a child does interrupt your ability to watch a movie at the cinema … both because they often disrupt it with their questions or actions throughout the movie and because you end up watching films you literally would never choose to go and see – let alone pay for – in a million, billion, trillion years … that’s not what this is about.
No … what this is about is the joy of seeing your kid watch a movie they love in the cinema.
Recently I went to see Despicable Me 4 with Otis.
As kids movies go, it was good. Not SpongeBob good … but good all the same.
[That said, since I wrote this post we went to see Transformers One, and that was brilliant. In fact I’d go as far as to say it was the best ‘prequel’ movie I’d ever seen. Which may say more about my movie tastes than my appreciation of the craft of storytelling]
But as fun as it was, it was not as wonderful as watching Otis be utterly engaged with everything happening in front of him.
It helped he was sitting in seats that moved with the action on the screen so it was an even more immersive experience … but the joy he radiated was more infectious than crack.
So infectious, that I realised I was spending more time watching him watching the movie, than I was watching the movie.
And I loved it.
Every single second.
Not just because I love him, but because it was beautiful to witness someone so captivated with the magic of a movie.
Leaning forward.
Gripping the seat.
Occasionally turning to look at me – or his Mum – to show us his laughter.
Or repeat a line he felt was especially funny that he wanted to ensure we had heard.
Or to have our reassurance when there was a slightly scary moment.
It was a joy and a privilege.
I say a privilege because I know it won’t last. There will be a time where he won’t want to go to the cinema with his parents … and while that will symbolise his growing independence – which is a good thing – it will also remind us of our growing irrelevance.
Well, not irrelevance, but maybe significance.
And while I totally appreciate not everyone wants a child – or can’t – I can tell you that as challenging and painful as witnessing their ‘evolution’ may selfishly be, the joy of seeing them grow while still embracing the wonder of life, is worth it.
Every mindnumbingsecondofwatchingeverymindnumbingfilm of it.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, My Childhood, Queen
I appreciate this is the 2nd Queen post in recent weeks, but it’s my blog so you’ll just have to deal with it. Besides, it would have been Freddie’s 78th birthday yesterday, so it’s kind of respectful. However, to make things have less of a bitter taste in your mouth, maybe you’ll like the fact this is more about how they’ve just [kinda] broken my heart rather than me waxing lyrical about their musical genius. Or something.
Now while I appreciate anything Queen produced post-1984 was generally pants – even I can admit that – everything leading up to that point was, at least for me, was a musical adventure.
It is no exaggeration to say that Queen have impacted my life in many ways.
From giving me some of my greatest childhood memories following their tours around the world through to inspiring me to want to play the guitar.
So while all of that has cost me a fucking fortune in terms of money and time, I don’t regret it at all. Hell, I’ve even enjoyed seeing the ‘tribute’ version of the band – featuring the admittedly incredible Adam Lambert – in Shanghai, LA and London. So it’s fair to say, I’m still a fan.
That said, Queen stopped being Queen even before Freddie died.
As I point out above, after 1984 – bar their Live Aid appearance – they changed from musicians and rockstars to entertainers – chasing popularity rather than attracting it. And while it could be argued they have been very successful in doing that – given they’ve made more money in the years since Freddie died (1991) than they did with all their earnings between 1973-1984 put together – the reality is that’s more to do with amazing ‘brand management’ than musical integrity.
But to have a band still have an active role and position in culture – 30 years after their singer died – is extraordinary, which is a big reason why SONY have just paid them over ONE BILLION POUNDS for the rights to their music.
And while I am happy for the band – especially as it reinforces the sustainable commercial value of creativity at a time where everyone seems to want to knock it down – I saw something that made me really sad. And it was this.
The bit that got me most was the line: ‘Legally Queen has split up’.
Of course, in terms of the band, that happened a long time ago, seeing the legal entity end has affected me far more than I ever imagined it would.
The finality.
The certainty.
The definitiveness.
While Freddie had gone, there was something comforting that John was still involved in the business of the band, even though he had retired from the band. But now there’s no reason for them to stay connected. And while I am sure John will be happy with that given he loves his reclusiveness, for the fans it is undeniable proof it’s over.
Done.
Finito.
And yes, we still will have the music. And the memories. And maybe … occasionally … the odd concert featuring a ‘version’ of the band. But while I criticise Queen’s output post-1984/85, I still hate it’s officially done. Because with that single piece of paper, I am forced to realise so is a part of my connection to my youth and history.
They say we shouldn’t be sad it’s over, but be glad it happened.
I get that.
I also get I’m a 54 year old man and it has been over for 30 years … so I should stop being so fucking melodramatic.
But I still feel glum … even though it does reminds me of some valuable lessons for marketing.
1. Artist management knows how to build brands better than 99% of marketing practices.
2. Companies may control brands, but they don’t own them. Fans do.
3. The law is more powerful than media budgets, channels and legacy.
So thank you Roger, Brian, John and Freddie.
It’s been epic.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Alcohol, Aspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Beer, Career, Childhood, Comment, Culture, Friendship, Mischief, My Childhood
I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since I was 15.
That means almost 40 bloody years!!!
And yet, over the years, I’ve been arrested for being drunk and disorderly all over the World … even though in reality, I was just being a stupid idiot.
A sober, stupid idiot.
For people who know me, that shouldn’t be too hard to imagine … however the reality is ‘being a stupid idiot’ is why I stopped drinking in the first place.
Not because I ever had a problem with how much I drank – if truth be told, I only ever got properly ‘drunk’ twice in my life and, being so young, meant I never had too much access to alcohol in the first place – but because I had a problem with feeling out-of-control.
I appreciate that may make me sound like a psychopath, but what’s even stranger is that I have a very addictive personality.
Over the years, that’s got me into a bunch of different types of trouble … which is why I am so glad my addictive side is offset by also being in possession of a stubborn-as-a-mule side.
What this means is that if my addictive side goes too far, my stubborn side kicks in and stops me dead.
I don’t just mean ‘stops me’ for that moment, I mean it stops me doing whatever it is I was doing, for good.
It’s like the ultimate flex … showing my addictive side that as influential as it thinks it is, it decides what I do and don’t do. And nothing proves that more by ensuring that when it stops me, it never ever lets me do it again.
It’s why I stopped drinking alcohol.
It’s why I stopped playing fruit machines.
It’s why I – eventually – stopped eating so much shit.
It’s also why I never tried drugs because it’s a given I’d have gone all in on them.
However, I am a bit confused why it hasn’t stepped in to stop me walking around like an idiot. But then, I guess I am choosing to do that rather than because I have a compulsion to – which is, arguably, even scarier.
Or sadder.
Anyway, I am writing all this because I read something recently that triggered all these thoughts.
It was something the actor/host Rob Brydon said this about the best time to be in a movie.
I love that. I love it for the objectivity, the vulnerability and the self-awareness.
Some people dream of being in a movie.
Some people dream of writing a hit song.
Some people – god forbid – dream of working in advertising.
And that’s great, until you let that define who you are.
Because the moment that happens, you’re no longer in control of who you are.
You are at the mercy of those around you.
Desperate for the acclaim. Hurt by any criticism. Doing all you can to stay where you think you are .. and yet, always craving to be something more.
Some companies actively try to cultivate this attitude …
Making you feel you’re special for being where others aren’t.
Letting you enjoy the trapping of industry success and clout.
Feeding your confidence with stories of acclaim and fame.
But while this is going on, they’re slowly changing the dynamic.
Shifting you from a position of strength to dependency.
Turning the screw until they’re the one in control.
Where you’ll be complicit to whatever keeps you in favour.
Because to be let go by them would feel like you no longer exist.
Until they decide you don’t.
Trust me it happens.
It’s kind-of why I started Corporate Gaslighting.
Because the way they win is creating the conditions of control. And shame.
But this post has taken a bit of a turn …
Because while that quote from Rob Brydon may be about the dangers of getting what you want, it wasn’t the point I was originally using it for this post.
The real reason was that when I read it, it reminded me of something The Chemical Brothers once said.
Something to do with alcohol consumption – which is where this post started, just to connect the dots in case you were as lost as I appear to have been.
You see, they were once asked, “What’s your favourite part of being drunk”.
To which they gave one of the best answers to any question I’ve ever heard:
“The second before you know you’re going to be sick”.
Those are the words of someone who has been there more than once.
Who has learned the lessons of excess the hard way.
Who’s personality is all addiction, and no stubborn.