Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Culture, Family, Jill, Love, Valentine's Day
So today is Valentine’s Day.
Also known as the florist industries ‘profit day’.
Now I’ve written a lot about Valentine’s Day over the years and it’s never been that positive. Namely because I think it has far more to do with fear than love. Hell, I even asked Jill to marry me a few days before Valentine’s Day because I didn’t want to be a victim of the marketing.
However I am conscious that my opinion is not everyone’s opinion and frankly, with all the shit going on in the World, Valentine’s Day is at least more positive than a bunch of things going on out there – despite the undertones of fear – so with that, I thought I’d link to 3 posts that I think embody the true meaning of love.
At least to me.
And what is even more scary is I’m not being sarcastic.
So with that, let me introduce you to some love stories that I connect to.
First the beautiful romance of Martin and Mercedes, then the story of Arthur Thomas and how love can last beyond a lifetime. And finally, Dan Aykroyd and his acknowledgement that even when love rips you apart, you can want the other person to be happy and hope they know how you will be forever grateful for what you had and what they made you feel.
Just for the record, I was going to link to a post about my parents and my love for Jill – but the former felt a bit too indulgent and the latter would mean upsetting Jill as she hates being mentioned on here [for obvious reasons] so I just hope she knows she is my bloody everything and I’d be lost without her.
I appreciate this is strangely positive for me, so let’s just double down on it by saying that whatever your situation, I hope today is one filled with good things, even if that’s positive memories of past love.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Except to the florist and card industry – those money-grabbing, exploitative fucks.
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: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Family, Fashion, Fulfillment, Happiness, Health, Individuality
So as I wrote a couple of weeks ago, my health situation has had a profound affect on me.
Not just physically, but emotionally.
From actually liking myself a bit to suddenly being interested in clothes – simply because now I feel I have access to choice, whereas before I was left behind by it.
I know that might sound weird for a person who has seemingly only ever worn shorts/jeans, black t-shirts with weird logos on them and Birkenstocks … but while I love those items and still wear those items, I have to acknowledge some of this may have been influenced by their accessibility to me.
But now a whole new world has opened up.
Different shapes, different styles, different colours and different brands.
Admittedly, part of this has been helped by having a client who is the Godfather of Street Culture Fashion and who keeps sending me clothes from the brands he’s started/bought/owns … but maybe, for the first time in at least 3 decades, I not only can explore and experiment with fashion, I want to.
It’s stark, raving, bonkers.
And you know what else is crazy … they’re not too bad on me.
OK, I know I’m never going to be Mr Stylish, but I’m also not Mr Blobby anymore either.
It’s made everyone happier.
Me.
My family.
My friends.
My colleagues.
My clients … especially the fashion lot, who – maybe for the first time – are happy to be seen with me rather than just work with me.
But there’s one item of clothing that has now entered my life that really highlights the impact of this healthier lifestyle.
Again, part of it has been influenced by freebies – which in this case, the copious amount of NIKE’s I’ve been given over the years – but I’ve started buying socks.
FUCKING SOCKS!!! Who the hell am I?
But it gets worse, because they’re not the cheap, ultra-thin, black sock shit from the local supermarket that I’d have grabbed in the past [unless NIKE gave me some] … they’re socks like this:
Yep, designer-ish socks.
OK, so these are sweary socks – or KFC fan socks, depending where you look – but I have loads of different ones. In different colours. With different imagery and messages.
And I bought them.
With my own money.
And why did I do this?
Because – get this – I CAN COLOUR CODE THEM WITH WHAT I’M WEARING.
I find this both sickening and hilarious all at the same time. But I’m here for it, because it is a symbol that I am starting to care about myself in ways I never cared about myself. Not in some desperate need to look stylish – because we’ve already acknowledged I’ll never be that – but to remember than my health has given me choice.
Now I appreciate this sounds stupid.
And I appreciate most people have been this way for decades.
Plus – as a mate recently said – I acknowledge I’ve swapped one daft fashion addiction for another.
But for 53 years, I’ve never had a chance to explore this side of my character and so it’s all new, intriguing and fascinating. At least right now.
Of course it doesn’t mean I’ve ditched the birkies.
Or the jeans/shorts.
Or the black tees with weird logos on them.
It just means they’re more of a choice than a necessity and while there is a disgusting amount of superficiality behind what this has ignited within me, it’s quite an infectious feeling. Which is why I want to thank my family, friends, colleagues and clients for all their support and encouragement on this journey, because I couldn’t have done it without them. I should also thank them for not raising their eyebrows too much at some of the things I am turning up in each day, hahaha.
Hopefully you can tell from how much I’ve written about this subject in the last 4 months, that this has been an incredibly powerful and liberating experience for me. I may muck up in the future, but how I feel because of it is too strong for me to completely forget.
Which is why I can’t work out why health companies have not talked about this benefit in their advertising. Some may have mentioned it – albeit in very contrived and superficial ways – though most tend to either be utterly rational or all about body shape.
Now while I am sure those approaches connect to some audiences, from my perspective the most surprising and enjoyable benefit has been feeling I have been welcomed back into life. That I have choice. That I have a way to explore and express who I am and who I can be.
Or said another way, I get to play dress up, but for adults. And not in a weird way.
Well, not in the weird way some people could read that.
And while that may not sound exciting in words, for those experiencing it, it’s about as uplifting as you can get. Because you’re not just living life, you’re rediscovering it … but with all the experience and lessons from the years before. [But sadly, without the ability to exploit history to make loads of cash … damnit!]
As I’ve said before … should anyone be interested in knowing what I did and how I did it, just let me know. I’m no expert – and I still have a way to go – but I found a way to make it work for me and if it can help you, I will be happy to share.
No judgement. No expectations. And no recommendations on socks. Promise.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Birkenstocks, Colleagues, Confidence, Culture, Daddyhood, Death, Doctor, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fear, Happiness, Health, Jill, Love, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Perspective, Socks
Back in November of last year, I wrote about how I was eating healthy.
It was quite a big thing for me to talk about – which is weird, given I have absolutely no problem writing about death, unemployment or the size of my best friends appendage, to name but a few of the subjects I’ve waxed lyrical about that many smarter people would rather shut-up than share.
But since then, more things have happened and while I genuinely feel uncomfortable to write it, I am also quite proud of myself, so here we go.
You see what happened was back in August, my doctor asked me to spend 3 months focusing on my health. To try and retrain my habits. To make different choices about my diet. To see what might happen by doing it.
And while I’ve been a helpless – and willing – slave to the seductive powers of pasta and sugar for basically my whole life … I decided this was the time I was going to go all in.
So I did.
65g of carbs a day. 25g of sugar a day. 1700 calories a day.
Every day.
And while it was hard at first, once I knew what I could do – and eat – it was satisfying. Well … more satisfying than I imagined. And that only grew when the results of those first 3 months came in.
I’d lost 22kg.
I’d dropped 4 sizes in clothes.
I saw every one of my health measures hit ‘healthy’.
My doctor called to ask if I was OK as the results were so extreme, he thought either the original results were inaccurate or I was doing a different sort of damage to myself.
[For the record, he was wrong on both counts – I was just in a very intimate relationship with chicken and spinach]
And as good as all that was – and it was very good – the biggest change was that I have started to like myself for the first time in a long time.
Yes, I appreciate that sounds tone deaf and dramatic given there are people who face real challenges and problems, whereas I have an amazing family, a wonderful life and lifestyle and a rewarding and fulfilling job … but it’s true.
In my defence, I didn’t really realise it until I started coming out the other side. Mainly because I think the impact was over time … slowly but surely, bit by bit … until at some point, it found a way to settle permenantly just under my surface.
And while it only popped up to mess with me at certain times and moments – and I suspected what may be behind it all – it is only recently that I was able to confirm my concerns about my health, maybe more than my actual health, was the cause of it.
Or should I say, the concerns about my sub-optimal health.
Just to be clear, what I’m talking about is self-esteem.
God it’s a weird thing.
It’s in your power and yet you’re also powerless to it and I felt I was in its grip.Putting me in a corner that I didn’t think I could get out of so I adapted my ways and choices to try and counteract it, without realising I was just giving it more power over me in more ways.
Which is why as I have got more in control of my health, I have felt a bit of a rebirth.
A bit more confidence about what I can do.
A bit more happiness about who I am.
From the superficial to the deeply, deeply personal.
Part of this is because I’m now wearing smaller sized clothes than I have in literally decades and I’m almost ashamed at how much that has affected me. Of course, it’s also bankrupting me as I have to basically buy new t-shirts that no longer look like I’m wearing a man tent dress … but it has changed more than just the size, but what I choose. Because frankly, more things are now available to me and so I’m experimenting with clothes like I’m a 10 year old kid. Well, I say experimenting, but it really has come down to a few t-shirts in colours that aren’t black and some socks [which is, let’s be honest, already a shock given my Birkenstock obsession] in a range of ridiculous colours. Fuck, I even colour coded my t-shirt and socks once … something never ever done in my life. And – to be honest – never to be done again.
But it is in terms of my family that I am the most indebted.
Because I’ve likely increased the time I’ll be here for my wife and son.
OK, so there wasn’t a identified risk that was going to cut it short … but health is always going to make it last longer and that means everything to me.
Because I love my family.
Love every little thing about them.
Of course they can annoy the fuck out of me, but I am sure I am far worse to them – even though this shocks me as I’m obviously a saint.
But as my son is just 9, I want to be around for as long as I can. I want to see the life he builds, I want to be there for the choices he wants to make. I want to just be in his life and have him in mine for as long as possible. With my wonderful wife by my side. Building new adventures and sharing them. Together.
Now I appreciate that all sounds very Hallmark card … but I do, that’s maybe all I want in some ways … and I’d be denying the truth if I said I hadn’t wondered if this was going to be as possible as I hoped it would be.
And yet … I felt it was an impossible situation to change.
I wanted it.
I knew what could help it.
But I didn’t have the skills or the energy or the willpower. Always having an excuse why I couldn’t dedicate the time and energy to it. Which is mad given I have a fuck-ton of energy and willpower to do a bunch of other stuff … but I had convinced myself that I’d met my match and so that affected me deeply in my head. Loving my family but not knowing how to make sure that love could be around for longer.
I know, it sounds pathetic, but I bet I am not the only one who has faced this psychological prison. And just to be clear, it’s not that I hadn’t tried things to change it. I had. And failed … over and over again. Which not only made me feel a bit more shit about myself, but also convinced myself I was not going to win this battle.
Which is why the pride Otis has in what I’ve done that makes me almost cry with joy. And what breaks my heart is that he obviously had the same worries about how long I’d be around. Not overtly. Not daily. But he tells me how proud he is of me and how happy he is I’m ‘healthy’ … and so while no one knows when the ‘end day’ will come, removing some of the more blatant concerns that it could be sooner than you hope, is a psychological gift in itself.
Now I am not going to say if I can do it, anyone can.
I couldn’t do it for 53 years and you don’t have to be healthy to be happy.
I hate that attitude.
And I was happy … I’m just saying I’m happier now.
With myself.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t have issues – I do, bloody loads of them – but it means I have less than I’ve been carrying, which is nice.
In fact, as of today, I have 30kg less problems I’m carrying – ha.
But let’s not ignore the reality that doing this is really fucking hard – especially at the start – and I needed a Doctor to basically scare me into it and needed to actively choose to not make excuses for not sticking with it. Which is why if anyone resonates with my story and wants to chat about their situation – or what I did to try and get out of it – then just get in touch and I’ll listen and share.
While there is a conscious mental decision to be made, at its heart it’s simply about food choices and portion choices. Oh, and investment … both in time and – sadly – money.
Because it’s a privilege to be able to do this, because – ironically – eating less costs more. Or it does if you want to make it easier.
But the good news is there’s choices that actually are good … and you’re talking to someone who thinks kebab and chips is fine dining. So if you want to know more, I’ll tell you what worked for me and how I did it and then you can decide what’s right for you.
Which leaves me to say a huge thanks to my family, doctor, clients, colleagues and whoever the fuck invented 99% sugar free buffalo sauce … because they made this happen. They made this possible,
And while I may fuck up occasionally, I now know I won’t fuck up every single mealtime and that’s a win in my book, because this journey has taught me things about myself and my habits that have been a revelation.
In fact the only thing I am disappointed about is I’ve still not used the overpriced bloody treadmill I bought. Though I’m glad I got the cool, foldable, wifi and bluetooth enabled one … which means there’s some things about me that will never change.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Family, Hotels, Technology
A long time ago, I was working on an innovation brief for a prestigious car brand.
As I sat there, listening to all the engineers talking, I realised their focus was more on optimising and evolving rather than innovating.
By that I mean, they were more focused on what they do and how they could make it better and more useful than embracing issues that were bigger than just the industry that they’re in.
So I said it.
Silence and incredulity.
“So what would you suggest?” one of them asked.
Now in these situations, it can only go one of three ways.
1. You go blank.
2. You say something they’ve already done/thought about.
3. You say something that makes them stop and think.
In the vast majority of cases – let’s be honest – it tends to be numbers 1 or 2, but on this occasion, I said something that fell into the last bracket.
“What if you made the car the most private, personal space they could be?”
That shut them up.
They weren’t expecting that.
To be honest, either was I … but while they came back at me with all sorts of technological and legal reasons why this couldn’t be done or wouldn’t be wanted – from car data through to our desire to be always contactable through our digital devices – the chief engineer was suitably intrigued for him to ask me to work with them on exploring what it could mean and who it would appeal to, most.
Which led to a year of one of the most interesting projects I ever worked on.
I should point out that when I talked about privacy, it was not about ‘isolation’ … though there is a value in that … I was talking literally about privacy.
Or said another way, ‘what goes on in your car, stays in your car’.
And while there was a bunch of fascinating research and explorations that went on in the quest to see where this could end up, it never got to where I hoped it would. And it certainly never manifested into an actual product I thought it could become.
Which is why this graffiti I got sent recently, hit home:
To me, this encapsulated where my head was at.
The desire to have a place where we are assured privacy and/or solitude.
A cross between a hibernation and a cultural vacuum, if you will.
To be honest, this was all influenced by work we did for Taj Hotels back in 2007 … where we blocked all mobile access at certain Taj resorts.
Back then, it was less about social media and more about the intrusion of work on family holidays … but the premise – and benefit – was the same.
[For the record, it was only possible because of where technology and the law was at back then. Plus all customers opted into this experiment with the acknowledgement there were alternative contact methods available, even if not as convenient]
Of course, I appreciate that was slightly different to what I put forward with the car idea. That was more about having a ‘social kills switch’ when the car was more a mobile ‘black hole’ … but I do believe the value of privacy – even momentary privacy – will soon rival that of FOMO.
We’re already seeing it.
From VPN’s to quiet luxury.
Not because we don’t want to be connected with the world around us.
But because we want to feel we have greater control over it.