Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fatherhood, Humanity, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents
A while back, I saw a tweet by the incredible Alison Moyet, quoting CS Lewis.
It was this:
It captivated me. Both for how beautifully it is expressed and how true it is. At least to me.
You see the older I get, the more I realise the phrase ‘everything happens for a reason’ is the perfect encapsulation of how life is.
Whoever we are, wherever we live, we experience a rollercoaster of emotions.
Good, bad, scary, sad … you name it, we go through so many of them each and every day.
In many cases, they’re but a temporary moment in a day full of temporary moments. But occasionally, they can be something that leaves a lasting scar … a scar that transcends all that has gone before and shapes all that comes after.
That doesn’t mean it’s always bad, far from it. But it does mean that it is the start of a period of your life where it creates a lens of how you see and live life.
What is interesting is that while you are living through it – and think you have clarity because of it – the reality is we often only get understanding of why something happened with time.
Not that we realise that at the time, sometimes it can take decades … however even though we may stlil find what occurred unfair or unjust, there is a sense of enlightnment because of it.
The feeling that everything finally and suddenly makes sense.
Of course, that can also trigger disturbance inside you all over again … because you discover the scar you thought had healed, was just hiding … but it does have this amazing affect of revealing something you had not seen.
And that’s why that CS Lewis quote hit me so hard.
Because I went through some of that, especially when my Dad died.
I was full of anger and anguish.
Tears and tantrums.
At a loss for what to do or how we had got to this point … even though Dad’s journey to death was over years, rather than days.
And then a decade later – on the eve of my birthday – something happened where the byproduct of that experience was that I learned the last 10 years of my life had been spent in mourning.
Which had been a byproduct of denying my Dad’s health reality for years.
Not due to stupidity, but a need to survive.
To think it was not going to be the end – even though my wonderful Mum tried to gently get me to acknowledge the reality of his ill-health.
And what she did … and what this enlightnement did … and what my wife and Otis did ultimately led to me being able to better handle the tragedy when Mum died, 16 years later.
I was still devastated.
I still had anger and anguish.
But this time, because I knew why, it let me move forward … so I could focus on her wonderfulness, not get lost in the injustice of her passing.
It’s why I think it is so important to talk about death.
Fuck it, it’s why I think it is so important to talk, fullstop.
Not the mindless shit, but to make time for the personal and important shit … because nothing shows love and generosity than ensuring someone you care about doesn’t lose decades of themselves because of things they wish they knew or things they wish they’d said.
Filed under: 2023, Advertising, Agency Culture, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Cannes, China, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Context, Corona Virus, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fashion, Fatherhood, Holiday, Individuality, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Martin Weigel, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Paul, Paula, Peace, Prejudice, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Revenge, Review, School, Shanghai, Travel, Trust, Truth
So with all the focus on Otis’ 9th birthday, I only just realized this is going to be the last week of this blog for this year. Which means you get a month off and then – when I come back – I will be entering year number 18 of writing my rubbish.
EIGHTEEN YEARS.
An adult.
And will my posts reflect that maturity?
Errrrm, probably not.
In fact a while back, I got called ‘immune to maturity’ by Metallica’s management which they quickly followed up with, “… and I bet you think that’s a compliment.”
That’s why we’re still working together after 7 years … we understand each other so well, ha.
2023 has been an interesting year for me.
Definitely more highs than lows.
In many ways, it has been a standout year for me – both personally and professionally.
I feel almost embarrassed to say that. I totally appreciate how many people are suffering right now. I have friends in tough places and there’s those dealing with everything from mental health challenges through to terrifying conflicts … which just reinforced how privileged and lucky I am.
For the first time in my life, I started this year with a resolution, and it was to say ‘yes’ to everything I was asked to do.
I don’t know why I decided to do that – maybe it is because for all of NZ’s magic [of which there’s tons] it can sometimes feel a pretty isolated, inward-focused place – so to counter that, I decided 2023 was the year of yes and I got to do a lot of that.
Saying yes let me travel literally around the world for work … including some countries/cities I’d never been to in my life. [Not to mention, having the gift of visiting my childhood home again, even though I burst into tears when the lovely new owner opened the door, haha]
I got to speak at a bunch of ace conferences. from Cannes – with my mates Paula and Martin – the magnificent State Of Social in Perth right through to the WWD World Fashion Conference in China [with the incredible Phoebe Philo and, bizarrely, being interviewed by Fashion TV] with a whole bunch in-between.
I was a guest speaker at a bunch of institutions from Cambridge University, the Ecuadorian Advertising Federation right through to the House of Prada.
I got to be part of some incredible creative projects. From the huge: helping design the 72 Seasons world tour stage set for Metallica. The cheeky: offering the All Blacks rugby coach a free curry for a year if he brought home the World Cup, then taking away his naan bread because he didn’t. To the most awarded: watching the wonderful fools at Colenso pick up Gold gongs and Agency of the Year title’s all over the place.
Top that off with seeing 3 members of my team become parents for the first time [and another about 3 months into that magical journey] and to see the 3 newbies from overseas not only fit in with the gang like they were here for years, but make an even bigger difference than I hoped – and you can see why I feel it has been a hugely satisfying year for me professionally.
But it’s the personal side that made it truly memorable.
First of all, we’re all happy and healthy. Like properly happy and healthy.
Then, for the first time in 7 years, we had our first proper family holiday. And while It did not last long in terms of duration, the glow still is with me months later. Yes, I appreciate that sounds more sickly than being force fed 5047389 sticks of candyfloss, it’s true.
Jill started her new company, Tiny Riot … a jewellery company dedicated to say the words women feel, but don’t always want to say out loud. She also felt she had found her peeps … letting her feel she was part of a community she loves and thrives in. I cannot tell you how happy this makes me, especially as we know we’ll no doubt be moving to another country in the not too distant future, hahaha.
Just to be clear, that has not been decided yet, we just know it’s coming … especially as we’ve already lived in NZ longer than we have lived in the last 4 countries we have been in. But I digress …
Which leave Otis …
Brilliant, wonderful, fantastic Otis.
Well, he has flourished and blossomed this year.
From seeing his mates network evolve and develop … with their own codes, games and slang … through to watching him throw himself into new activities, like tennis and swimming, yoyo’s and messing about with Roblox, Reels and video games … to seeing him love his budgie, Sky [which he made me a t-shirt to wear on the Cannes stage to ensure I admitted I cared for it as much as Rosie, ha] and then of course, watching him deal with his dysgraphia diagnosis with positivity, openness and conviction.
Given I have seen adults literally burst into tears when they had to move desks at work – true story – seeing an 8, now 9 year old – embrace a challenge that will affect him for the rest of his life with understanding, openness and a desire to not let it define him or make excuses for him is honestly one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing.
[I also have to add Forest staying in the Premiership was a highlight, because while Jill and Otis may not like to hear it … that team are family to me, hahaha]
But of course, you can’t have good without bad and there’s been a couple of things that have shaken me deeply.
One in particular made me question everything I thought I knew and could rely on.
The impact it had on me was – and still is – huge. I would say it has been the most emotionally confronting situation I’ve experienced since my parents died. It has been that big.
What makes it even worse is that in reality, I may never really get over it as the impact affects me and my family for the rest of our lives.
And we’re the least affected in this situation.
It has taken me months to try and come to terms with what has happened … to try and accept things I thought I knew and could rely on, have failed.
If truth be told, I’m still working on it … because while I appreciate life can take unexpected turns, it’s why – and how others deal with it – that determines how you feel about it and in this case, they are the things that ended up being disastrously dealt with.
Which is why 2023 can never be seen as a spectacular year for us, merely a very good one.
And as I said, that is still a hugely positive outcome given so many are suffering in ways that make my pain seem insignificant.
Which is why I was so impacted by some graffiti that someone I vaguely know, told me about.
It’s this …
… they’re not wrong.
Which is why, while I know 2024 will face it’s challenges – especially with the US election and the likelihood America will lose its mind and vote for Trump [while acknowledging the Democrats have failed to find and develop a single worthy candidate in 4+ years] – I hope by this time next year, more people can say they had a more positive than challenging year because the World needs it. Because for all the hell that Covid subjected the planet too, the anxiety created by people [read: old, white men] who feel entitled to do and have whatever they want is arguably, even worse. And without wanting to sound like a hippie … some peace would be nice.
I know no one will have read this far, but then this is not for you … but I can assure you the last 3 posts of this week won’t be as indulgent, not for your sanity, but because I can’t be arsed to write so much rubbish again.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Family, Fatherhood, Holiday, Jill, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis
So I’m back.
And of all the trips I go on, this was one of the best.
In fact it was the best I’ve had since 2016.
Specifically June, 2016.
And why can I be that specific?
Because I wasn’t on a business trip, I was on a family holiday … our first since 2016.
OK … so when we first moved back to England we spent 4 days in a house in another part of England, 2 hours from where we lived … and we visited family in Australia a couple of times … but in terms of a ‘get-away-from-everything and everyone, have nothing to do and just hang out with each other’, this was the first one in 7 years.
There’s many reasons why it has been that long – all basically my fault – but it was magical.
Bizarrely it felt a bit like Covid.
Not the horrible parts of it, I mean the highly privileged version I got to have by being in the wonderful company of my wonderful family 24/7.
I’ve written a lot about how special that was for me. How utterly fortunate that was for me.
And while this family time lasted a fraction of covid time, it had the added benefit of having no expectations or commitments … other than check in with the folks staying in our house so we could see how Rosie and Sky were doing.
A break from everything is incredible.
Now, I admit, the impact of this wasn’t as big as my first ever New Zealand Christmas holiday – a time where most of the nation shuts down to ensure everyone enjoys a time of rest – it was pretty close.
I stepped away from all things work.
I was left alone by all things work.
And I was left with nothing to focus on but my family.
No agendas. No time limits. No interruptions.
Of course they deserve that and it shouldn’t take a holiday to do that.
And it doesn’t … but this was more than just together time, this was building new memories together time. I know, I sound like bloody Paula Abdul, but it was that wonderful to me. I mean … look at this photo I took.
Look at it … it’s bloody awesome. [the view, not the photo]
Of course it’s a privilege to be able to do this.
And I am under no illusion how lucky I was to be able to do this.
I remember as a kid, we didn’t have a holiday for 6 years. To be honest, I never realised it because we would go for day trips to places. But as I got older I realised the lack of a holiday was because they just didn’t have the cash and would rather use any money they saved to ensure I had what I needed.
God, my parents were amazing. I really hope they know how much I recognised that in them.
Now of course, you don’t have to go to another country to have ‘a holiday’, but I do think you have to be in a different place to where you live.
Maybe it’s why I resonated so much with something the writer Nora Ephron once said about things she’d miss once she’d died.
She said, “Few things are as special as dinner with friends in cities none of you live in”.
She’s right. There’s something so special about that.
And while she meant everyone at the table lived somewhere different, it works for families too.
After 7 years, I can say that with utter certainty.
I hope everyone has a chance to do that – but I know they don’t.
I hate how companies treat holidays as a ‘gift’ rather than a right.
Especially those who talk about unlimited holidays when we all know it’s a total scam.
If there’s unlimited holiday, then why do you ever have to come into the office?
Exactly … it’s a PR headline, not a reality.
Which is why I’m so grateful I got to embrace and enjoy it.
And I’m so sorry I’ve been the barrier to having more of it.
So thank you to my wonderful family for creating new memories for us all to enjoy.
As use of time goes, it’s one of the most productive of them all … which is far more than I can say about the next few days. Because I am back on a plane, but this time for work rather than family adventure. But on the bright side, at least everyone gets another holiday from me.
You’re welcome.
See you next week.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Complicity, Culture, Daily Fail, Daily Mail, Diversity, Dysgraphia, Education, Empathy, England, Fatherhood, Hope, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Perspective, Relevance, Resonance, Respect
OK … so yesterday I said the posts this week were all superficial shite, but that was until I read an article that has pissed me off.
Have a look at this headline:
On one side, it’s from the Daily Mail – so this sort of divisive headline is to be expected – but what made me especially angry is the daughter in question is not ‘rebellious’, she has dysgraphia and dyscalculia … so she finds writing, reading and maths incredibly difficult.
NOT because she isn’t smart or capable, but because she has a neurological condition so she learns in a different way to the one the education system is set up to teach.
To be fair to the school in this article, it sounds they tried to help … but it also sounds they were so stretched that the way they approached it was more about giving them time off school rather than adapting their approach to schooling.
I’ve written about this in the past given Otis has dysgraphia and his school has been active in trying to adapt to help. Even then it’s not been easy – or perfect – but at least Otis knows he’s seen, heard and valued … which is more than the woman in this article probably feels.
Imagine being neurodivergent and having a national newspaper refer to you as rebellious and having your own Mum be OK with that.
Worse, the Mum makes it all about her and ‘her struggles’.
Yes, it can be hard … and yes, it can be stressful … but it’s a fuck-of-a-lot worse for kids going through this sort of thing. They feel stupid. They feel left behind. They feel discarded and useless. So the last thing they need is a parent – and an education system – labelling them rebellious or lazy when what they’re dealing with is neurological. To make matters worse, this neurological challenge doesn’t impact their capacity to learn, just the way they do learn … so they have huge amounts of potential but with too few people wanting to see it, recognise it and liberate it.
This article could have been about the need to relook at how we educate. It could have been about the importance of needs rather than standardisation. It could have been about progress rather than judgement. Instead this ‘newspaper’ decided to write a piece that shows they view compassion and encouragement as weakness and unfairness.
Shame on them.
Shame on the mother for allowing this headline.
Shame on the people who commented negatively without understanding.
You have to be pretty fucking vile to be jealous some kids need special attention from their schools.
It’s not elitism you pricks, it’s dealing with an issue not of their making and helping them stand a chance of having a life that is bigger than the one people like you want for them.
Fuck you. All of you.
You’re welcome.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Context, Dad, Emotion, Empathy, Fatherhood, Honesty, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis
I’m back.
Kinda.
Hang in there, because this is going to be a longish post.
I should say the length is not just because I want to make up for the fact you had a whole week without being subjected to my rubbish … but because you’re getting another week.
No really.
You see by the time you read this, I’ll be in LA.
I know … I know … but it’s for work, honest.
OK, I admit I am looking forward to it because I not only get to see a bunch of mates, I get to do something with Mr Weigel as well. Which means it will be fun, regardless what happens. Certainly fun enough to miss my 16th Wedding anniversary on Friday, which – let’s be honest – is possibly the best present I could ever give Jill.
[Sorry my love, but we both know you will have forgotten, ha]
So as you get another week of peace, I thought I’d leave you with a big post.
But unlike my usual rubbish … this isn’t about strategy, Birkenstocks or Queen.
But it is about sentimentality and love. But not mine – for once.
You see a few weeks ago, I read an article in The Guardian by the author Katherine Heiny.
I don’t know why I read it.
I didn’t know Katherine or any of her work and the article was about her hard-of-hearing Dad … but despite all that, I did.
And I’m so glad.
It was wonderful.
A longish train ride that made stops at laughter, smiles and – at the very end – tears.
Because what Katherine had done so perfectly was capture the increasingly complex relationship we all have with our parents while also realising – hopefully before it’s too late – that for all their sometimes stubborn, stuck-in-their-way views and ways, we love them, admire them and respect them.
Maybe it was because I was reading it at 2 in the morning, but at the end, the tears flowed.
Great big dollops of them.
Not just because she’d captured the love she had for him in such a beautifully raw – yet gentle – way, but because it triggered how I hope Otis will one day think of me. Preferably without the frustrating bits in-between.
Anyway, the impact of the story compelled me to write to her.
I knew there was the risk I’d sound like a stalker … not to mention the high chance my email would be consigned to the junkmail bin either inadvertently or deliberately … but I wanted to let her know how much her writing meant to me.
Yes, I know she’s an author – an accomplished one as it turned out – but how she writes just connected with me more than many other authors I’ve read.
Which is why I was thrilled when, a few days later, I received this from Katherine:
Dear Rob,
Your email made my day (as did the fact that you think I have staff, or at least an assistant). It was the exact opposite of pointless and silly. It really touched me. I miss my parents too. My mother told me once that even after her mother died, my mother thought of things daily that she wanted to tell her. Now I do the same and it seems to me like a way to say “I hold you always in my thoughts.” Please friend me on FB if FB is something you do and thank you (x a million!) for writing.
Katherine x
That she wrote back at all was wonderful.
That she wrote such a lovely message and asked me to FB ‘friend’ her is unparalleled.
Don’t worry though. Because in an act I assume was designed to continue to help Mark Zuckerberg win back public sentiment – boosted massively by the stupidity of Elon Musk – Facebook stopped me ‘friending’ Katherine, as they correctly pointed out I did not know her.
My loss was surely her – and Mr Zuckerberg’s – gain.
Or it was, until Katherine persisted and found a way for us to connect.
What a brilliantly generous human with such an alarming lack of judgement.
Which leaves me to say this …
Thank you so much Katherine.
Not for writing back – though I’m grateful for that – but for celebrating the emotion that comes from honesty, even when it can be the most uncomfortable journey of all.
You can read the story that started this journey, by clicking here.
I’m back next Monday. That should be enough time to have stopped laughing, crying and telling your parents you love them …