Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, China, Culture, Family, Shanghai
I was in NYC recently when I saw this:
I love it.
But putting aside the fact that in America right now, you don’t get to define who you are – or who you can be – the Government seem to be doing that [or should I say, ‘dictating’ that], the reality is moving to any new place enables you to reinvent or add to yourself.
It’s a wonderful feeling … to start again or to not be held back by past perceptions. It’s like a rebirth … but the challenge is being able to resist the urge to go back to comfortable.
The nice bits.
The easy bits.
That doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice everything you love, but the secret to reinvention is to be open to everything new.
I think I’ve written about the time I met someone who had just moved to Shanghai who asked me where they could get their favorite Belgian cheese … and I replied, “Belgium?”
I get when you move you want to have some things that give you comfort, familiarity and stability … but when you are trying to replicate the life you once had, then it’s highly likely you’re not going to find moving city/country works for you.
Or you’re not going to get as much out of it as you could.
Always looking back.
Always finding the faults.
As I’ve said a lot, too many people approach the idea of moving with the fear of what they’ll leave behind rather than the excitement of what they can gain. I get it, that’s normal … but at some point, you have to make a decision and embrace the ups and downs of all that will come of it – especially in the early days.
Staying in one place forever, is perfectly fine.
Being happy and comfortable where you are is a beautiful gift.
But if you want to see who you are or who you can be – and you don’t have contexts, circumstances or issues that demand you to stay where you are – then the most powerful way to do that is to change where you live.
It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.
Which is why – much to our bank managers annoyance – we’re not done with it. Hahaha.
[Just to be clear, this is not an announcement we’re moving countries again. It’s just saying we’re not moving countries yet]
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Dad, Family, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis
I appreciate that in some ways, I’m a total fucking hypocrite writing this.
I work too much.
I travel too much.
I – if I’m being honest – love what I do too much.
That doesn’t mean I don’t love my family with all my heart … however as I wrote recently, I also realize I’d not shown how much of a priority they were to me as much as I want them to feel.
Given my wife has enabled me to have the career – and life – I/we enjoy … and the fact my son is 10 years old … it’s pretty fucking appalling it took me so long to fully grasp this concept to be honest.
That doesn’t mean I’m no longer ambitious, nor does it mean my family have stopped generously encouraging me to go after the things that interest and excite me – it’s just that I’ve chosen to stop being a Labrador Puppy who chases everything that captures my attention and, in terms of my time, my family now always wins … which is something I’m ashamed to admit was probably not always the case, all of the time.
Now I am not trying in any way to suggest I have got it all sorted out. I’m 55, so to have only recently worked this out shows that’s definitely not the case. Nor am I judging anyone who lives or thinks differently. Plus I am still hardwired to fuck myself over – literally today I realized that throughout my entire career, wherever I’ve worked, I’ve been the first person to be in the office day after day after day. All the time. Everytime. Everyday.
Idiot. [Though in my defense, it is often the only time I get to do my work before the mania begins of colleagues, ha]
But the point of this post is one thing I hear from lots of people is their desire to have a better work/life balance.
What ‘better’ is, is up to them … but the likelihood is they want more time with the people that matter most to them than the people who employ them. Yes, that’s an assumption, but I don’t think it is entirely unjustified.
And recently I heard something that not only helped reinforce why this matters, but could ensure you do all you can to make sure it does.
It was this.
If you’re a parent … your role as father or mother will outlive you.
That’s it.
That simple.
And while we all know that, I doubt we think about it in those terms.
I know for a fact that even though my Dad has been gone 26 years and my Mum 10 … their presence and impact in my life continues. And the older I get, the more I realise, respect and am grateful for all they did to ensure they were active and present in my life. Whatever the challenges they faced – and they faced a lot.
Now compare this to work life.
However popular you are, if you’re lucky … you’ll be remembered for maybe a few weeks after you’ve left.
That’s it.
Hell – as I wrote recently – that even applies to those people who started the company, let alone just work for it.
So while I am not saying work or ambition isn’t important – for all manner of reasons – it’s a good reminder of what deserves our focus and who will actually value it the most, for all the right reasons.
Of course, being able to even think this is a privilege, given there’s a shitload of people who want to spend much more time with their family but can’t … or aren’t able to.
But for those who do have that opportunity, I hope you realise it sooner than I did … because regardless how much we love what we do – or how important we think we are – the only place we’re not replaceable is with our kids.
Hopefully.
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In typical fashion, I am away again – I know, less than a week after I was away for over a week – so there’s no more posts till Monday. So enjoy the additional time away from me and hopefully you can spend it with someone you love, not someone who wastes your time. Like me and this blog.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Age, Attitude & Aptitude, Bonnie, Childhood, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Family, Fatherhood, Jewellery, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents, Relationships, Resonance, Respect
On Friday I talked about the ring that had replaced my lost wedding ring.
A wedding ring that had been made to combine both my Dad’s wedding ring and the one given to me by Jill.
I wrote how this new ring had – thank god – been able to incorporate some of Dad’s ring [that I’d had left when I had it resized] as well as some things from Jill’s ring [that she kindly donated to me] so that it was something of real significance and sentimental value to me.
I treasure it.
It’s far more than the metal it’s made of.
But recently I saw something that reminded me why it is so significant.
This …
I don’t know why, but the thought I will [hopefully] know Otis more as an adult than a kid completely fucked with me.
Of course he will always be ‘my child’ but being the person I see every day … the person I watch growing up in front of me … the person he turns to for laughs, help, advice or an audience … the person who loves and hugs his dog … is something I treasure deep in my psyche and soul.
As I wrote before, while all parents know their kids grow up fast, what makes it tolerable is that as they develop … they learn or express new things that you adore, which helps offsets the sadness of seeing the old things you loved, fall away.
But there will be a time where you don’t get to see this growth every day.
Where you aren’t their World, you’re just a part of it. One associated more with the past than the present.
Back in 2016, I wrote about that – based on an brilliant article in The Guardian – and fuck me, if it was hard to deal with then, it’s even harder to accept 9 years later as we get closer and closer to a time he will move on, that you know is coming but wish wasn’t.
That doesn’t mean you don’t want your child to have their own life.
To forge their own interests and passions and journeys moving forward.
But the idea of being relegated to ‘observer’ is hard, even though – as my parents showed with me – it is one of the greatest gift you could ever give your child.
The values to live.
The lessons to progress.
The encouragement to explore.
The freedom to build write your own story.
What brought this all to a head was a video I watched of Michelle Obama recently, talking about her Mum.
“Wow, this went fast”.
Not just watching your child become an adult, but life.
And as much as Mae West said: “you only live once, but if you do it right … once is all you need”, the reality is life does go fast.
What makes it more bizarre is that as you get older … as life passes-by slower … it all seems to accelerate at the same time.
Which is why it’s so important to treasure and value what you have.
Not take it for granted.
Not get swept up with the things that – in the big scheme of things – don’t matter.
It’s taken me a long time to learn this.
It’s taken watching my wonderful, brilliant son grow up to really understand this.
Despite watching my amazing Mum and Dad pass, it’s Otis who has helped me appreciate time and life.
Not just with him, but with everyone around me.
Which is why that video of ‘knowing your child more as an adult than a kid’ hit me.
Not because that is bad, but because the moment is so special.
And while growing up is a good and natural thing – which I have obviously been trying to come to terms with for a long time, given I wrote this about Otis becoming an adult back in 2021 – it’s still a reminder that you rarely know you’re living the time of your life, until after it has passed.
It’s why both those videos may have been uncomfortable reminders.
But also beautiful gifts.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Family, Home, Love, Loyalty, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, Nottingham
I watched something recently that made me happy, jealous and sad all at the same time.
I know … I know … they’re the sort of emotional extremes you’d normally associate with a psychopath – but hang in there.
I’ve written a lot about how much I loved my parents. How much I still do.
So many of the decisions and choices I’ve made in my life have been influenced by me wanting them to feel proud of me – even though they’re no longer here and I know very clearly that they were already.
But despite that, I still do stuff that is driven by a desire to thank them for being brilliant parents … to let them know that despite all the moments of ‘stupidity’ that I have embraced throughout my life, the lessons, encouragement and love they continually showed me, were never taken for granted.
Even more so because they never wanted anything from me.
Nor did they ever ask anything of me.
All they desired was that I choose a life of fulfillment over contentment.
It took me a long time to work out what that meant, but once I had worked it out – it fundamentally changed how I lived my life. Giving me clarity at times of confusion or complexity. Hell, it’s one of the main reasons I didn’t go back to the UK when I faced some truly challenging situations while living overseas … because even though I knew they’d love it if I’d gone back [and I’d have loved it too] – I felt I would be disrespecting the gift they’d given me by encouraging me go and explore the world when they were facing such personal hardship through Dad’s illness.
We talked a lot about this when Dad became ill.
I was due to go to Australia when Dad had his stroke. Suddenly I didn’t want to go … I wanted to stay with them and help, which was my new plan right until the moment I told my parents about it.
“NO!” they said.
This was not something they were willing to allow.
Of course they massively appreciated the consideration, but they wanted me to go and live my life rather than – as they saw it – be held back by their situation. Given how hard their situation was, it is fair to say that no one – least of all me – would have blamed them if they had asked me to stay, but they didn’t and I think part of that is because they knew that had I not gone then, I would never have left … and that was an outcome they were never going to allow.
That does not mean life wouldn’t have been good if I had stayed – I loved my parents and I loved Nottingham – but it is also fair to say the life I get to live and enjoy now is nothing like the one I would have experienced if I’d remained. As I’ve written many times before, everything I have in my life today, bar my relationship with my best friend Paul, is because I left the UK.
My family.
My career.
My lifestyle.
My experience.
My experiences.
Every single bit of it … which is why their actions are not only an incredible example of ‘unconditional love’, but also proof of how well my parents knew who I was and – with a bit of encouragement – who I could be.
What a gift.
What generosity.
Which may explain why I felt such a compulsion to repay their love. I don’t mean that just in terms of chasing a life of fulfillment, but in trying to help them make their life easier, happier and – dare I say it – more comfortable.
You see, whatever way you look at it, life wasn’t easy for them. In fact it never was.
Money was always very tight and now, with Dad’s health – and Mum caring for him 24/7 – it had now become even harder.
And while I did what I could, I was not earning the money that would allow me to do what I really wanted for them which was:
Pay off the house and buy Dad a yellow 1970’s, Rolls Royce with white-walled wheels.
In that order.
But hope and reality are separate beasts and even if I could have pulled it off, I know they would have lost their shit over it, because to them, they’d tell me I should be focusing on my future, not theirs.
Which leads me back to the beginning of this post and how I saw a clip that made me feel happy, jealous and sad all at the same time … because I got to watch a kid do this for his parents. Not the Rolls Royce bit, but the house.
I love it.
I love the reaction of the Father.
The slow realisation followed by the cavalcade of emotions …. pride, relief, gratitude and love.
I can only imagine how good the son felt to be able to do that for his folks.
And while my parents did – in the end – get to pay off the family home, it was not because of me but because of an insurance payout they received for a car accident they’d been involved in 5 years prior. And while I wish they hadn’t had to experience the accident to be able to pay off the home, I also know how happy it made my parents – especially my Dad, who knew he was nearing the end of life and so it reassured him Mum would be safe – but even then, I still wish I’d been able to do this for them.
Of course – as my career took off – I was able to repay/spoil/look after my Mum – but while I may still look at that clip with a mixture of emotions, I comfort myself knowing it has nothing really to do with buying your parents a home and everything to do with celebrating a loving, caring family and viewed through that lens … I know my parents knew how grateful I was for all they did and all they were.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Creativity, Family, Mum, My Childhood, Parents, Technology, Television
I’m old.
Fucking ancient.
And yet, despite 1000’s of years passing between my single digit years and now, there are some things I remember clearly and dearly. One of those are the kids TV shows I watched growing up.
Not all of them, of course, but some.
Trumpton.
Campbellwick Greene.
Why Don’t You.
The Magic Roundabout.
Rhubarb And Custard.
Pipkins.
Mr Benn.
Mr Benn was one I particularly liked.
It was a cartoon about a man – Mr Benn – who would leave his house and visit a fancy-dress shop nearby.
Each episode, the owner of the shop would invite hum to the changing room to try on an outfit before ushering him through a magic door at the back of the changing room. From there, he would enter a world linked to whatever outfit he was wearing and go on a small adventure.
Each episode would end with him reappearing back in the changing room holding a small souvenir connected to where he’d just been and that would be it.
It was short, innocent and – for a 5 year old in Nottingham – bloody brilliant.
A window into other world’s and possibilities.
A chance to explore and imagine.
A taste of what could await.
I have probably not seen an episode of Mr Benn for almost 5 decades and yet it still has a warm place in my heart. If you asked me how many episodes I’d have watched, I’d have probably said hundreds … watching them either with my Mum when they were on at lunchtime or later in the afternoon when I was home from school.
So you can imagine my surprise when recently I saw this …
WHATTHEFUCK!???
If finding out Mr Benn’s house was a real place wasn’t amazing enough … I then discover there were only 13 episodes ever made.
THIRTEEN?
I am in utter shock.
I’d have bet everything I own saying I’d watched more than 13 different episodes.
Fuck, I thought I watched nearly all of that in a single week.
I don’t know if I’m more confused by the fact I thought I’d watched hundreds or that they only made 13.
Why so few?
It’s not like it was amazing animation.
What else of my childhood was a lie?
Was pulling a ’64 pavement slab wheelie’ on a Raleigh Grifter not really legendary?
Was Sarah Holtham not actually the prettiest girl in the World?
Was the Philips G7000 not really the cutting edge of technology?
Was the Argos Catalogue a compendium of tat rather than gold?
Were Hedgehog Flavored Crisps a bit shit?
I don’t know if I can ever recover from this …
Before I saw that image I thought I’d had a great childhood and now …
So thanks a lot Mr Benn, you’ve just fucked my entire childhood … but I’ll still go visit your house next time I’m in London.