Filed under: America, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, Childhood, China, Comment, Culture, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Environment, Family, Home, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Parents, Respect, School
3 different nationalities.
4 different countries [In 4 different continents]
5 different homes.
4 different schools.
Two major long lockdowns.
All of this in just 6 – but soon to be 7 – short years.
And yet despite all that change … all that waving goodbye and learning to say new hellos … he remains a happy, curious, cheeky and compassionate kid.
And while he loved his life in China, America and the UK … he is blossoming in NZ.
Sure, some of that is because he has been able to get back into some sort of routine, meet new friends and play with other kids his own age – at least until Delta struck and he got locked down with his parents for weeks on end – but it’s more than that …
Outdoor life is a way of life here.
Being outside is no longer a conscious choice.
The line between indoors and outdoors is now very slim.
No need to change clothes. No need to wear shoes. Spontaneity is allowed to flow which – let’s be honest – is exactly how a kid should be able to live their life.
I’ve lived in similar environments before … in Australia and America for example … but whether it’s because I’m older or now live in a bloody treehouse or have a kid of my own, I appreciate it so much more.
Watching him be able to run around outside is a real privilege.
Of course, for people born here, that’s a normality … but I have lived in environments where that’s not the case, which is why even seeing him watch his iPad in the sun is something I don’t take for granted.
We cannot discount the importance of being able to play outside, but sadly many governments and councils seem to.
Viewing it as ‘a favour’ rather than a fundamental right.
Playing outside helps kids in so many ways.
Bond … learn … imagine … express … play … explore … compete … respect.
It’s not a ‘waste of time’, it creates a deeper foundation for life.
An ability to think outside of lines and others definitions.
Giving kids an environments where they can be outside is basically an investment in a countries future.
A nation of curious, interested, healthy people.
But not everyone gets this.
Some actively try to stop this.
Often people of immense privilege who either associate outdoor life as something for either the elite or the rough.
Fortunately NZ does not see it this way.
They revel and celebrate it.
They have the best parks I’ve ever seen in my life.
Parks made to enjoy and encourage kids to push their boundaries.
A new discovery of what you’re capable of with every visit.
And while for most kids it’s about developing, for Otis it’s also about grounding.
A place he can feel is his.
A connection to where he lives in a way he’s not had before.
Because while he is young, I do not underestimate what he has been through.
Fuck, there’s people I have worked with who have literally freaked out when asked to move office desks … and yet here’s my kid, who has moved countries, homes and friends and still embraces the possibilities of every situation.
So much of that is down to his brilliant Mum who has helped that change happen in the most comfortable, seamless way … but it still requires a mindset to look at what you’ll gain rather than just what you lose.
And while I know one day I’ll no doubt be dragging him off for another adventure somewhere else on the planet [but don’t worry, it won’t be for ages. Probably] I want you to know that I love you from tip to toe and let you know I’m so, so proud to be your dad.
Thank you Otis, you’re a little legend.
Filed under: Australia, Birthday, China, Comment, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fatherhood, Hong Kong, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Singapore
Today would be my Mum’s 89th birthday.
EIGHTY NINE.
My god, that would have been something to celebrate.
I sometimes wonder if we’d have come to NZ if my Mum was still alive.
There’s a chance we would, but it would have been much harder to go, especially with COVID.
I just don’t know how I’d have been able to leave, given all she would have had to deal with in the last 18 months.
There were days – when we were in the UK – where I found myself being relieved she wasn’t here to experience the horror of COVID.
That’s incredibly hard for me to admit, but the idea of my dear Mum being on own and suffering ill health, without me – or anyone – being able to be near to protect, reassure or support her for over a year, literally ignites my anxiety.
Of course, millions of people had to go through just that, which is why I have nothing but admiration and compassion for all they went through. To not be able to see your family is unbelievably painful. To worry that if you do, you may kill them, is a burden that no one should have to deal with.
But if we were here in NZ … and if Mum was still alive … then today would be a day where not being with her would be one of the most painful of them all.
It certainly wouldn’t be for lack of trying, but the reality is if I did find a way to get back to the UK, then there would be no guarantee of when NZ would let me back in the country due to the quarantine situation.
I would feel torn in two.
And I know this because it almost happened in 2014.
Mum was going to have a major heart operation at around the same time Otis was due.
As in literally, a cross-over of time.
The idea I would have to decide whether to be at my son’s birth in China or be at my Mum’s side in England was something I was genuinely terrified of.
Fortunately, I found myself in England about 5 months before Mum’s operation and accompanied her to a meeting with her surgeon.
There she explaining the situation to him to which he said he felt Mum could wait another 3 or 4 months for the operation so she could be in ‘tip-top form’ to meet her grandson.
I am so grateful to him.
Not just for removing an obstacle that no one should have to deal with, but because it gave me 4 more months with my Mum – months that she got to see her grandson via Facetime – because sadly, she died of complications when she ended up having the op.
And as sad as that is, I smile at the thought of being with her today.
Not only can I imagine how it would go, I can even hear her voice.
She’d be saying how she can’t believe she’s 89.
She’d gently brush off my excited, “and next year you hit the big 90”, with a calm explanation that, “you never know what may happen in the future”.
My god I miss her voice.
Her kind, compassionate, warm, curious voice.
How I would love to hear her asking questions about Otis, Jill and Rosie the cat.
I remember the times I flew home to surprise her from Australia or Singapore or HK or China.
I’d knock on the door and then I’d hear her walking towards it – asking “who is it?” before she saw me.
She would look for a second in shock. Amazed her son … her beloved only child … was standing in front of her.
And she would say, “Oh Robert” before giving me a huge hug and then telling she was so surprised and happy.
Then before I knew it, she’d be asking if I’d eaten and say she had to make the bed up for me as there’s no sheets on it … hahaha.
Oh Mum, I wish I could be with you to celebrate.
I wish that day in March 2015 had turned out so differently.
But as I wrote over that week, at least everything had reached some beautiful finale … though you never got to see the new heating Angelo had put in for you, ha.
Mind you, with energy prices so high in the UK at the moment, you’d likely say, “I’ll just put on an extra jumper”.
Oh how I miss you Mum.
You were the best.
I hope Dad is looking after you.
Thank you for everything and happy, happy birthday.
The countdown to 90 now begins.
Love you.
Rx
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Corona Virus, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, London, Love, Otis
I found this photo recently.
It’s a few years old, when we lived in London … but there’s something about it that just warms my heart.
Not just because it features my son – though that helps – but because it in a period of pandemic chaos, it shows how love can make everything OK.
Covid had just taken hold.
We were all confined to home.
No one was offering any clarity.
People were dying at unprecedented numbers.
And Otis desperately needed his hair washing.
However …
… he was also playing a video game he absolutely didn’t want to stop playing so – because his world had been turned completely upside down – his wonderful, kind, considerate Mum found a way for him to keep playing while she could do some hair washing.
Obviously it is an utterly ridiculous way to do things, but it’s my ridiculous.
A moment of twisted normality at a time where nothing felt normal whatsoever.
And while I appreciate this is an utterly indulgent photograph, I love the way he seems oblivious to his surroundings. His little legs stretched out to the tip of his toes. And a kitchen that has been rapidly turned into a school, a playroom and a hairdressers all at the same time.
While we were painfully aware of the privileged position we were in – from having an income to having a teeny garden to escape in – the fear of COVID was starting to take a hold which is why, as I look at that photo today, I realise how much my ridiculously beautifully family let me feel we were strong together at a point where everything was feeling like it was falling apart.
Filed under: America, China, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
In many ways, this was a big year for Otis.
While he had moved from Shanghai to Los Angeles, he was so young that he probably didn’t take it all in.
But by the time we left Los Angeles for London, he had made some deep connections.
His friend Jack.
His love Elodie.
His school mates and adventurous life in the sun.
And yet he took it all in his stride.
Sad to say goodbye, but happy to explore somewhere new, boosted by the fact he would get to see his ‘Oddparents’ – Paul and Shelly – a lot more often.
And within days, he was a Londoner.
Sure he had a strange American accent.
Sure he kept talk about dollars rather than pounds.
But for all the upheaval he was going through, he embraced it all.
New home.
New school.
New friends.
New way of living.
It was here he started to identify what he loved.
We wanted him to experience a range of things so he could discover what he liked.
And while he liked being a ‘ninja’, he didn’t want to do martial arts.
And while he enjoyed watching football with his dad, he didn’t like organised sport.
Instead he loved acting.
LOVED IT.
Watching him practice his lines was a bloody delight … the focus, the commitment.
And while he would get a bit shy at the point of performance, you could see how much his whole being lit up when he was doing it.
I have no idea if he will continue to love acting or performance.
Right now, he’s into video games in a big way.
But whatever path he chooses in the future … as much as I don’t want him to have a life of struggle, the thing I want most for him is fulfilment.
Not comfort.
Not content.
But fulfilment … as my parents always drilled into me.
To be honest, I didn’t really understood the difference between fulfilment and contentment till I was in my 30’s. But now I realise it has a totally different imputes when you go from the ‘receiver’ of that intent to the ‘giver’.
I hope I can help Otis understand it.
But more than that, I hope I can witness Otis embracing it.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand, China, Colenso, Comment, Confidence, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, End of Year, Fulfillment, Goodbye England, Imagination, Jill, London, Management, Marketing, Martin Weigel, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Paul, Paula, Resonance, Respect, Rick Rubin, RulesOfRubin, Shelly
So this is it, year 15 of this blog is officially over.
YEAR 15!!!
Christ, this might be the most I’ve ever been committed to anything. What a shame this blog is basically worth nothing, hahahaha.
But we’re here.
A year that the World hoped would represent huge, positive change after the hell of 2020 … but ended up being more of the same.
For us, of course, this was a year with a huge difference – namely we now live in New Zealand.
Moving countries can be a pain in the arse at the best of times, but doing it in a pandemic adds a whole lot of stress that no one needs. However, despite that … despite saying goodbye [or should I say, au revoir] to the beautiful house we had just bought … despite not being able to physically see my beloved Paul and Shelly before we went … despite the hassle, broken furniture and time to get settled in … it’s been amazing.
There’s many reasons to that.
From the 2 week quarantine we had to do, which let us – and Rosie, the cat – get acclimatised to the obscene time difference to the kindness and generosity of the people here. To the fact we had bought our beautiful home – and cars – before we arrived, which made things so much easier. To the covid vaccinations we received. To the community we have found ourselves in. To the outdoor life – excluding the insane rain and 4 month lockdown – we have been able to enjoy.
So much.
But it would be wrong for me to not mention the role Colenso and, specifically my team, have had in it.
Everyone of these talented souls has been wonderful.
Not just to me, but Jill and Otis as well.
Plus there’s the fact my team have [generally] put up with my ‘ways’ … and we all know how painful that can be. I’ve always been incredibly fortunate with the teams I’ve been a part of and this lot are no different.
Sure, they’re mouthy bastards with no end of opinions, ideas and considerations but that’s – as you probably could guess – is exactly why I love them.
We’ve only been together 7 months but I’ve seen enough to be excited about what damage we can do in 2022 – reinforced by the fact we finished this year being named Agency Of The Year by the Effies organisation for a whole host of work that solved problems in interesting ways.
So to Lizzie, Henry, Teresa, Emma, Gi, Augustine, Amy and Liam … thank you for everything.
You’ve given me laughs, headaches, pride, lessons and things to ponder … and I couldn’t be more grateful for all of it.
[And extra best wishes to Lizzie who gets married during the holidays. Made extra perfect because she had to postpone it due to Covid and this way she gets to make the holiday season even more wonderful for all her family]
But while NZ has been the major change in my year, there have been some other notable moments.
In some respects, it was a year of music.
From my Rick Rubin project to getting fired by the Red Hot Chili Peppers to the best passive aggressive endorsement ever seen in the history of mankind.
Given I’ll be working for The Black Keys, Muse and – weirdly – Journey in 2022, I can only hope the musical rollercoaster will keep me on my toes as much.
Talking of celebrity …
I met Noel Edmunds at a business ‘do’ in Auckland – which surprised him as much as it did me – and I got to hug Jacinda Ardern, albeit committing social faux pas when I interrupted her during a dinner she was having to say hello.
That I’m still allowed in the country is testimony to New Zealand’s humanity.
Then there was the Tokyo Olympics …
An event a year late from its original plan … met with global apathy, especially in their home country … only to win us all over and turn us back into fans.
Seeing young kids win medals in skateboarding will stay with me for a very long time.
In fact, having skateboarding in the Olympics may have just done more to get kids wanting to do sport again than any number of NIKE ad campaigns.
That’s how good it was.
Best ad of the year goes to the amazing MacMillan cancer ad.
I must have watched it a couple of hundred times now – hell, I’ve even built a presentation around it that I give clients – and I still cry when I see it.
Not because of sadness – though there’s plenty in it – but because of the human emotion it triggers.
As I wrote at the time, it has this incredible ability to take me back to the times I lost my parents but make me feel closer to them. Extraordinary.
I could go on …
I could talk about certain posts I wrote in the year, like Toxic Positivity, but let’s face it … you can’t be bothered to read it and I can’t be bothered to write about it.
So I want to say some thanks …
To everyone who reads, writes and insults me on this blog … I am eternally grateful – and surprised – you come here. Many of you have been coming here for almost as long as I’ve been writing it and I have to say I find comfort in knowing that whatever I’m facing in life, I can come here and all of it just fades away. So for that, thank you … I really appreciate it.
I also want to say thank you to everyone who has reached out to check on how we’re doing. You didn’t have to, but you did and that means a ton.
Extra special thanks go to Paul, Shelly, Martin, Paula, Amelia, Martin B, Meg, Rach, Mike, Sam, Mr Ji, Peter and Cliff … who all made me feel like you were just around the corner, even though you were thousands of miles away.
And finally, a special thanks to Jill, Otis and Rosie.
None of this would be possible without you and I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.
You make me a happier, better person than I believed was possible … and while you may rightfully think I can be a total pain-in-the-ass, I can just tell you I’d be even worsr without you.
So thank you.
For everything,
I can never fully tell you how much I love you and am grateful for you.
The way you handle all this change is extraordinary …
Nothing sums this up more than something Otis chose to do recently.
As you all know, Otis has beautiful, gorgeous, stunning long hair …
Well a few weeks ago, he suddenly announced he wanted to cut it off so it could be donated to kids with cancer.
We asked if he was sure as it was a big thing and he said, “he wants to and is determined to”.
Then he added he will continue to do this until he’s 18.
Grow his hair.
Donate his hair.
Grow his hair.
Donate his hair.
So that evening, his Mum got scissors and a hair razor out and starting cutting 35 CENTIMETERS OF HAIR.
THIRTY FIVE!
Throughout the cutting he kept saying how excited he was.
How it was changing his life.
How much ‘lighter’ his head felt.
And afterwards, the little champ looked like this …
A new sort of rock n’ roll.
I thought it was impossible to love him anymore. I was wrong.
To have the capacity to be so compassionate and considerate at 7 years of age is incredible.
Even more so when he has had so much change in his life.
Four countries in 6 years.
New homes, new schools, new friends.
Almost 18 months of lockdown.
And yet he still has it in him to think of others.
Definitely his Mum’s son.
But proudly mine too.
Hell, he even offered me a chance to remember what it was like to have hair …
… though it could also have been to take the piss out of me.
So to Otis … Jill … Rosie … everyone I know and people I don’t but somehow have still come into my life this year, I wish you a wonderful festive season.
I really, really hope 2022 is much better for everyone than the previous 2 years.
I hope we have a year where everyone can have hope for the future.
I don’t know if it’s possible with the machismo bullshit of politicians, but let’s hope so.
Thank you again for everything, have a great time … just not better than me. Please.
See you on January 31st.