Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Communication Strategy, Cunning, Devious Strategy, Education, Otis
Despite using examples that probably featured perspectives that were the opposite of every MBA case study they had read, it all went pretty well.
I got a bunch of questions and even received some lovely notes from people in attendance.
But the reality is, I kind of ensured that the end would be remembered better than the beginning.
You see Otis saw me writing my talk and asked if he was in it.
So I added this as the last slide.
Which means regardless what went on before, the ending was always going to be perfect.
#Strategy
There’s no post on Monday.
Which is good, because after you read this, you’ll either be sick or shocked and it will give you a little more time to get over it.
Ready? Well here we go …
Being married to me is hard.
Not just for the obvious countless reasons, but because we keep moving countries.
In fact, in the last 6 years, we have lived in four countries.
FOUR.
Add some more years to that total and the number of countries we’ve lived in goes up again.
And again.
And again.
But that aside, the reality is we’ve kept moving countries predominantly for me.
And every time, Jill has been nothing but supportive and encouraging – even though it has meant she’s had to leave her friends, passions – and in the case of Shanghai – her successful cake business, Stir.
OK, so after dragging Jill around the world for nearly 2 decades, coming to NZ was as much about getting her closer to her Mum as it was about me joining Colenso … but even with the added benefit of family proximity, Jill had to start her life all over again.
I’ve never been in this position.
When you move for a job, you are given an instant network.
You’re in an office. With people. Who you get to connect with, talk to, meet.
You also have a ready made job … with things to do and things to change.
In almost no time at all, you feel part of the place with people who can help you overcome any question or obstacle you face.
But not Jill.
When she moves, she starts from zero.
She has no support network except her husband and son.
And given I’m at work and Otis is at school, that means she doesn’t even get us easily.
I am under no illusion how hard this is on her.
I am also under no illusion how much she has sacrificed to allow me to live this life.
It is more than I could ever expect or hope for and yet, despite all the challenges it places her under, she has never complained or stopped us exploring adventure.
She could have.
There are times she probably wanted to.
But she has done it over and over again because of us. Or should I say, me.
My wife is the most compassionate, considerate and caring person I know.
Always looking out for us.
Always ensuring we are settled as quickly as possible.
Always protecting the family.
I say all this because Jill has started taking some tentative steps into exploring a career again.
When Otis was born, she made the decision she wanted to be a full-time Mum. We were in the very fortunate position that we could make that happen and she loved every second. But now Otis is 7 … he has independence and is at school … so Jill wants to use the time she has got back in new ways.
But starting something new when you’ve been away for a while is daunting.
And for all the talent and experiences and achievements my wife has earned in the past, she is doubting herself.
I can literally see the arguments she is having in her head.
The fight between curiosity and self judgement.
The worry she may not be good enough.
Of course all women go through this.
The most evil thing men have done is make women believe they have to be perfect before they can try something new.
Which means many don’t, leaving men – who don’t give a shit about perfection because of our deluded self-confidence – to take opportunities that could be better served and expressed by female talent.
I am proud of my wife for many reasons, but for someone so gentle, she is immensely strong … and despite her not really sure where she will end up, she is starting a little design studio focused on digital art.
Not NFT’s … but just different designs that can be used in different ways and places.
She knows it’s hard to get noticed in this field.
She knows it’s a lot of work for not a lot of reward.
She knows she has to build up her portfolio of work.
And while it would be easy to point to the privilege she has in being able to do this when so many don’t even have that option … I am watching a woman seeking a different sort of self-worth. One that goes beyond being an amazing wife and Mum, but an independent person
I have never had to worry about this.
Otis is unlikely to have to worry about this.
And I wish Jill didn’t have to worry about this … but she does and so she should.
Add to that the time she has been out of the workforce – something she did for us to be able to walk forward – and what she’s doing is insanely important.
For her.
For us.
For any woman who faces this situation.
I love this woman.
I’m so proud of her.
I am watching her put so much of herself into this.
Not just in terms of designing … but thinking, considering and questioning.
This is a huge thing for her – far more than just a design project – and I want her to feel excited and proud about what she’s doing.which is why I have a favour to ask.
Not as someone’s wife. Not as someone’s Mum. But for who she is and what she does.
A brilliant, clever, talented, smart, kind human.
Someone willing to put their vulnerabilities on show and on the line in the hope it may lead to something they can’t quite define.
What an amazing person.
I’m such a lucky bugger to be her husband.
Thank you Jill.
I love you.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Comment, Dad, Death, Family, Fatherhood, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Nottingham, Otis
A few weeks ago, I saw a tweet by the comedian, David Baddiel.
It was this.
It was late, but there was something about it that really touched me.
Of course, hearing a parent has died is always sad. And over the years, my stance on Mr Baddiel has gone from ‘annoying’ to ‘wonderful’. But I think it was the sight of the worn chair that got me. A reminder of a parent who preferred comfort over new. A father who saw the chair worn in rather than worn out. An extention of the parent rather than just another piece of furniture in the home.
I definitely related to that.
I still remember going into Mum’s bedroom after she died – the bedroom that my shared my entire childhood – and saw it was a bit worn out. Needed some care, some attention, some updating. But what’s interesting is that while I’d been in that room a million times, it was only then that I the condition. Because when my parents were in that room … in that bed … the whole room radiated love and life and all the worn paint and old carpet disappeared from view.
But I also know how important it is to hold on to some of that.
Getting rid of your parents belongings is devastating.
I definitely remember genuinely considering hiring a security guard to just sit outside the house so I could keep it exactly the way it was. Hell, I even tried to buy the home phone number from British Telecom, or whatever they’re called these days – so I would have a connection to my past … to my parents … forever.
Jill gently convinced me that wasn’t the best way to move forward. Reminded me that wouldn’t be what my parents would want. But she also knew I needed to keep a physical connection to them and that house … so she came up with a brilliant idea that I thought may help a man I don’t know, get through a terribly painful situation I do know all too well.
So I responded to him with this and went to sleep.
The next morning I woke up to my phone screen full of twitter notifications and saw this.
Thousands of likes.
Hundreds of comments.
A mass of retweets.
I couldn’t quite believe it.
And when I read the comments, every single one was positive.
No snark. No pisstaking. Just a mass of lovely, considerate, words. Which was more wonderful than I could ever have imagined, because as much as it’s nice to have something you said/did liked by so many, what made the biggest impact was so many people saying they now had a way to take their family and home with them, when their family and home are no longer there.
A bit of calm in the worst of storms.
And since I wrote this post, the number of people who liked it and commented on how this can help them deal with their grief has increased more and more.
So thank you Jill.
You helped not just make one of my hardest times, less dark, you have helped others see a way out of their darkest moment.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Agency Culture, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, China, Colenso, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Environment, Family, Jill, Love, New Zealand, Otis, Rosie
A year ago today, Jill, Otis, Rosie and I left our beautiful family home – that we only had bought and moved into 6 months earlier – to get on a plane for the first time in over a year and fly to the other side of the planet to start a new life in New Zealand.
Now of course, because Kiwiland is so fucking far away from everywhere, it took us 2 days to get here which means we’ve not officially been here a year … but if you will excuse the early anniversary, it still something I wish to celebrate.
Despite having moved countries more times than anyone should be allowed to … the build up to this move was the most stressful we’d ever had.
Of course, the reason for that was bloody COVID … but with changing rules, changing flights and changing timelines, it felt like an impossible dream when we boarded the plane 12 months ago today.
Then there was the 2 weeks of quarantine we had in Hamilton.
While it was restrictive, it was actually an amazing way to settle in a country because whether we liked it or not, we were not allowed to do anything.
Normally when we land in a country, it’s mayhem trying to learn the areas, find a house, buy a car. But this time it was easy, mainly because – in a moment of madness – we had bought a house and a car when we were in England.
While that might sound mad, the car was easy because it was simply the latest version of the car I bought in the UK. Which was the same as I bought in the US. Even down to the colour.
As for the house … OK, that was bonkers, but sadly for our bank manager, that wasn’t the first time we’d done it.
But it all worked out.
Not just in terms of house and car, but life.
We’re settled.
Otis loves his school.
Jill loves we live in the trees.
Rosie loves she can watch birds all day.
I love the talented mob I get to work with each day.
Colenso has done some lovely stuff – but it’s only the start – but we’ve won some global business, awards and a bunch of friends [not to mention the odd bitter enemy] but even more importantly, is that I’ve lucked in with the people I get to work with each day.
What a top bunch they are … with a special mention for my wonderful team who are a bunch of beautifully opinionated, creative and interesting assholes.
Just as I like them. [Most of the time, hahaha]
In fact the only thing that has been horrible has been the timezone … which means when I’m doing my Metallica duty or Gentle Monster duty, it ends up being so early or late I could cry.
Actually, for the first few weeks I probably did in shock … but now it’s second nature and they’ve all been ace. Hell, even the 4+ months of lockdown didn’t dampen our spirit.
Sure, we had travelled half way around the World to end up back where we started … but COVID here was very different to COVID in the UK.
Here there was a plan with clarity and communication.
And while people here say there’s a bunch of stuff the government could have done better – which, in some cases, is fair – compared to what we experienced in the UK, it’s all A+.
While we know we won’t be in NZ forever, we do love it here.
We are so appreciative of the chance we have been given … even more so when so many Kiwi’s have found it so hard to come back. NZ has been generous, supportive, open and encouraging. Hell, not only did they let me meet Noel Edmonds, James Cameron and brilliant Jacinda, they even looked after us when we all individually found ourselves having to go into hospital. In terms of ensuring you can deal with the sadness of not seeing friends and loved ones, NZ did it with absolute bloody panache.
I hope in our time here, we are seen as contributing to the nation. We want to do that so much. Celebrate it. Honour it. And – where possible – help it. Not just so we can learn and know more about this special place, but so we can say thank you for letting us be here.
Happy [almost] anniversary NZ.
You might wish it hadn’t happened, but we’re glad it did.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, Love, Otis
I was going through some photos when I came across this …
It feels like a million years ago, but it’s less than 2 years ago.
It was taken around Christmas 2020 …
We were living in England and we’d recently bought that house.
We knew we weren’t going to be in it for long as I’d accepted the job at Colenso … but we wanted to enjoy it as much as we could while we were there.
And so we did.
But the snow added a new dimension to the experience.
It came down a lot over a few short days and so for the first time since I had left the UK 25 years earlier, I was in a place that had enough snow to mess about with. For Otis, it was the first time he could … the first time he properly experienced snow … and after he’d accepted it was bloody cold, it was a bloody challenge to get him back indoors.
Oh the fun.
Snowball fights.
Building snowmen.
Slipping and sliding.
It was amazing.
All topped off by us getting into our giant hot tub in the garden to get warm, while it snowed around us … which was a bizarre – yet awesome – feeling.
And while that house is pretty much isolated in the countryside, so the small roads were all ice rinks, something about that week made the whole thing even more special for us.
A chance to connect to that house. To build a memory with that house. To be a family home.
And yet, when I saw that photo it seemed like another life.
A world away from the one we live in now.
Yet it’s still our home.
We may well one day return to it.
And we still utterly love it and its garden.
Lots of people talk about their ‘forever home’. I get it …
But the reality is while a place you grow roots in, is very important … the thing we forget is we have to do the work. It doesn’t happen by itself. Those 4 walls require the interaction of the people in it to build something worth remembering it for.
And while that house only had us in it for 6 months [so far] that photo will forever remind me that sometimes, that’s all you need.