Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Fulfillment, Health, Home, Insight, LaLaLand, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents
As I’ve mentioned many, many times, my parents drilled into me the importance of living a life of fulfillment not contentment.
It took me a long time to truly understand what they meant by that, but when I did, it was a revelation.
It is behind so many of the decisions I’ve made in my life.
From moving to so many different countries.
Starting cynic and Sunshine.
Right through to – hopefully – being the father and husband my wife and son thoroughly deserve.
This last one is especially important.
Not just because I love them and want them to know my love, but because at the end of the day – if the things I’m doing away from them doesn’t ultimately benefit them, it’s a waste of time.
When I was a child, my Dad would tell me why it was so important to love the work you did.
His basic premise was that if you’re going to be away from your family so much because of work, you better be doing something you love because nothing would be so insulting than to be away from them doing a job you hated.
That has stuck with me and while I’ve never hated any of the companies I’ve worked for – I’m always aware that once I have more bad days than good [or, in the case of Wieden, more bad polluted Shanghai days, than good] it’s probably time to start exploring what is out there that intrigues me.
Now, through a bunch of luck, these changes have come with greater titles and responsibilities … and I’ve never minded that, but it’s also never been my core motivation. Not because I don’t have ambitions, but I’ve always found the greatest joy being part of something that creates something.
I used to say that if I was to come back again, I’d love to be an architect because that way I could do work that outlived me … then I had my son.
Being a Dad has been one of the most amazing experiences in my life.
I’m ashamed to admit this was not something I was truly aware of, initially.
But now, thanks to the brilliance of my wife, I am able to see that I have helped bring something into the World that will outlive me. Something that can [hopefully] be testimony to the values we value and the things we love but with a life all of its own … a life that can grow and be shaped by the possibilities in the future we may never get to witness.
Which is why as much as I want a career that continues to creatively challenge and excite me at the highest level, my most important ambition is to be a husband and Dad that is present, engaged and full of love and support for the people at home.
It might have taken my wife and son to help me truly appreciate that, but I know my parents would be happy that I finally got there.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Confidence, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Education, England, Family, Happiness, Innocence, Insight, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents, Relevance, Resonance, Standards, Unexpected Relevance
As I’ve written before, I didn’t go to University. I knew pretty early on that I didn’t want to continue my formal education.
That doesn’t mean I didn’t/don’t like to learn, it just means I find it far more powerful when it’s not in an academic environment.
I still remember telling my parents my decision and being slightly scared.
They desperately wanted me to go so I was worried they would see this as a slight on them – which is absolutely not what it was meant to be.
They asked for my reasons and when I told them, they said that they would support my decision as long as I applied in case I changed my mind.
So I did.
And I got accepted.
But I was still sure not going was the right thing for me, so my parents – while obviously disappointed – supported my decision and never brought it up again.
Looking back now, I feel that must have been very hard for them.
At that point, going to university was the fast track to a career and yet – as another act of their love and confidence in me – they pushed me to follow the things that genuinely interested and excited me and hoped it would all work out.
I’d say it did.
But now I’m a dad and while Otis is only 3, the thought of education looms large.
Would I do the same thing as him?
Of course I want to help equip my son in the best way possible for the life he wants to lead and one of those ways is to provide him with a good education. But the fact is I’m vehemently opposed to private education and while general access schools can be very good, the reality is private tends to offer better opportunities simply because of the funding and the facilities … which leads to an interesting conflict.
What’s best for my son versus what’s true to me?
Given Otis is so young right now, the decision will ultimately be mine and his Mum’s, but once he’s older, what do I do if he chooses a path I feel is not in his best interests.
Sure, it worked out for me, but the World was different back then and then I saw the ‘god’ instagram above – a sentiment that was absolutely reinforced by our recent America In The Raw research – and realised that by the time he has to make some choices, he will be far more aware of what he needs to do to increase his odds of success than his Mum or me.
But then I realised something else …
It’s not just about acknowledging their view of their World will be better than yours, it’s also backing your parenting.
When my Mum and Dad supported my decision, they were ultimately supporting how they raised me.
They believed the values and smarts they’d instilled in me were the right ones to enable me to make the right choices … and while I know they would have been there if it all fell down, that sense of confidence and belief probably enabled me to go to places I might otherwise not have done. Places I might not otherwise have felt I deserved to be.
And that’s why backing your team is everything.
Of course you have to instill values and standards into them, but once that’s done, you have to back them including what they think is right – even if you don’t – because if that doesn’t happen, you’re literally stopping their potential rather than liberating it.
Thank you Mum and Dad. Again.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Comment, Confidence, Culture, Daddyhood, England, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham Forest, Otis
Can you remember some of your greatest days?
I don’t just mean the big ones, but the ones that should have been a ‘normal 24 hours’ but somehow turned into something different.
Better.
Seminal.
Jill recently sent me a photo that captures one of those days.
Yes, that’s me watching TV.
More specifically, watching Forest.
Live.
Playing Arsenal.
In the FA Cup.
Fallen giants versus FA Cup holders.
Championship team versus Premiership establishment.
Managerless versus longest serving manager.
And we won.
4-2.
FOUR BLOODY TWO.
More than that, we won in style … so much so that a blind Arsenal fan, who was at the game, expressed that he had finally found a positive to being blind because he didn’t have to see how much Forest bossed Arsenal on the pitch, but only hear it.
But as much as that is most definitely a big and memorable event, that’s not what made it seminal for me.
It’s that little head resting against my body on the sofa.
Yep, that’s Otis.
Watching the game with me.
His first ever football match.
Where his Dad’s beloved Nottingham Forest, won.
Now I appreciate this isn’t the same as when I was a kid and started watching Forest.
Back then, they were not just winning against the champions, they were the champions.
First of the league, then of Europe and beyond.
Their success cemented my love of the reds … taking it beyond just geographic loyalty and into more personal identity.
And even though they have fallen so far from those heady days – where they have had 26 different managers in the time Arsene Wegner has been boss of the gunners – I still love them and hope this match, where Forest secured an unlikely yet thoroughly deserved victory in front of a 3 year old living in Manhattan Beach, means he will love them too.
Maybe I’m being massively unfair on Otis.
Maybe I’m setting him up for a lifetime of disappointment.
But then, when you hear stories like this that come out of matches like that, it does teach you that the events of the past don’t have to dictate the events of the future if you commit to always doing your best.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Culture, Daddyhood, Fatherhood
In December, I went to more Christmas parties than I have done in years.
That’s not because I’d suddenly become popular – oh no – it’s because you didn’t really have them in China, mainly because the only role for Christmas was to extract cash from expats who were missing home than to celebrate the actual occasion.
Anyway, there was one week where I was out till 3am on two consecutive nights.
I know … I know …
What made it even more amazing is that on both following mornings I had to be up at 5:30am which meant I had a total of 5 hours sleep over 48 hours.
Once upon a time I would have been fine with that.
Well, maybe not fine – but I could have managed. But this time, I felt like I had literally been run over by a truck.
So much so that when I went out for lunch with an old Wieden [NIKE] colleague that weekend, I apparently spent so much of our time telling him how knackered I was, that he sent me this.
Nice huh?
Prick.
Which all goes to explain why the thing I look forward to the most at weekends these days – after doing my fatherly duties of running around an insanely energetic 3 year old for a few hours – is sleeping rather than partying, which also explains why this post from 2014 is even more relevant today than it was then.
Have a great weekend.
Zzzzz Zzzzz …
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Dad, Daddyhood, Death
So today is the 19th anniversary of my Dad passing away.
Every year I write how this time between him passing and now blows my mind because while in some ways, it does feel long ago, in others it feels relatively recent.
I’ve been having a number of conversations with people about death recently.
People who have lost loved ones and are struggling to cope.
And to them all, I tell them it’s OK to feel that way.
It’s normal because the situation is terrible.
I tell them how it took me until the last week of my Dad’s life to come to terms with the fact he was dying and then a subsequent 10 years to come to terms that he had gone.
I don’t say this because I want them to think they will feel this way for years – because there’s a good chance they won’t – I say this to let them know they’re not weird, or wrong or bad for feeling and thinking these things.
And while I wish the reasons for me knowing this didn’t happen, they did and I feel grateful that I’m able to acknowledge my Dad has taught me as much in his death as he did in his life.
That’s quite a gift when you come to think of it.
It means he’s still with me even though he’s been gone for 19 years.
And while I would still do anything to see him and talk to him – especially as so much has happened in the time he has gone that I’d love to hear his perspective on – I’m so, so happy the memories I have of him are now the joyous ones rather than the hardship he went through in his last few years.
One of those memories is from 1984.
I know it was that year because it revolves around the launch of Queen’s ‘The Works’ album.
Oh I was so excited. It had been a couple of years since their last album – the much maligned ‘Hot Space’ – and the reviews said this was a return to form.
Paul – my best mate – and I had been debating what the songs would be like based on the titles we had read in the Fan Club magazine and all we wanted to do was get our hands on that piece of vinyl.
Then some good news … our local radio station, Trent FM, were going to give away the album to the 10th caller on the rock show that night.
I went home and laid out all the albums on the floor in front of me – sure they were going to ask a question relating to one of their songs.
As the time for the competition came, I got more and more excited.
I tuned the stereo to 96.2FM, ready to pounce.
The question was asked, “What year did Queen write Bohemian Rhapsody?”
I knew this. I KNEW THIS.
As the DJ started playing a Queen song, I dialed the number as quickly as I could.
Engaged.
Urged on by my watching parents, I pressed redial [my Dad LOVED telephones so we always had the latest, ha] …
Engaged again.
And then, as the Queen song faded out, I heard the fatal words from the DJ that they had a winner and it obviously wasn’t me.
Gutted. Absolutely gutted.
Zoom forward the next day and I came home from school.
I came into the lounge and was preparing to watch a bit of TV when my Dad asked if he could listen to a song of his.
[The stereo was in the lounge with the TV]
Of course I said yes, and while Dad was playing with the record player, I just faffed about doing something.
But then something strange happened.
Rather than the expected operatic tones coming out the speaker, there was a drum rhythm … a semi-recognizable drum rhythm … THE DRUM RHYTHM THAT FORMED THE START OF RADIO GAGA!!!
I’m guessing the look of confusion on my face forced my Dad to hold up the album cover of Queen, ‘The Works’.
OH. MY. GOD.
Dad – and Mum – had bought it for me.
An impromptu present because they knew I loved that band with all my heart and was sad I didn’t win the competition from the night before.
It might have honestly been the first time my Dad had ever bought a popular record, but I ran up to him and gave him a huge hug and a big kiss on the cheek.
“Enjoy it” he said … and with that, he walked out the room, leaving me to bathe in the music of my favorite band.
Now don’t get me wrong, my parents were very kind and generous to me … but we never really had much cash to splash, so while they did all they could to make sure I didn’t go without, the things I got most from them was love, support and encouragement.
But here I was with an album.
And it wasn’t even my birthday.
Talk about feeling like you’ve won the lottery.
I remember that day as if it was yesterday and even now, when I listen to that album, I feel a sense of warmth from it … a sense of togetherness and love.
And it’s for that reason I’ll be listening to the album today, because I want to have that feeling again because while my parents ensured I felt their love to last a lifetime, you can always do with more.
I miss you Dad.
I miss you so, so much.
I would give anything for one day to just talk to you.
Discuss all that has happened. Discuss all that is going on in my head. Introduce you to my family. Take you to your garden.
Hold you hand and kiss your head.
It might be 19 years, but I miss you like it was yesterday.
You were the best and I’m glad Mum is with you so you are no longer alone.
Love you.
Rx