Filed under: Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, China, Confidence, Dad, Daddyhood, Education, Emotion, Family, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis
Hello I’m back.
And the good news, it’s not for long …
Not because I’m going away again, but because it’s almost the holiday season so you – and I – get a break from this blog for a month.
A MONTH!
So with all the horrors on in the world, at least there’s that positive news to look forward to.
Anyway, as you can tell, I am back from the UK and there’s one main reason for it.
Today my beloved, wonderful, brilliant son – Otis – turns 9.
All those cliches of ‘they grow up so fast’ turned out – as many cliches do – to be true.
And while I wish it wasn’t, because it means we’re already at the halfway point to official ‘adulthood’, the fact is I can’t turn back time and every year with him just keeps getting better and better.
Oh, don’t get me wrong, there’s moments that test us … but even that is a sign of good stuff.
His desire for more independence.
His interest in things we don’t know or yet understand.
His network of mates with their codes and slang that reduces them to giggles.
But all of this is through the filter of being a good kid.
A compassionate, considerate, thoughtful boy.
Certainly more than I ever was at his age. Hell, more than people 5 times his age.
His awareness of issues such as equality, gender neutrality, prejudice and racism is wonderful. As is his assurance of which side of the fence he lands on all these issues.
Yes … we have had a big part to play in that, but it’s his curious mind that led him to the questions that allowed us to have conversations with it.
But it’s his perseverance in the face of adversity that is inspiring.
As I’ve written before, Otis has dysgraphia … a form of dyslexia that severely affects how he learns, specifically when requiring motor skills.
It means using with a pen is very difficult for him. As is his ability to process information in certain situations.
He knows he has it. He knows it can frustrate and challenge him … but he also has accepted and embraced it in the knowledge it can never be ‘cured’, only managed.
That he has been able to deal with that in a way where he is still able to thrive at school – especially in subjects such as reading, maths and creative writing – is testimony to his character and his desire to learn and do things well.
As I have also written about, his school deserves a lot of credit for this.
They have actively created the conditions for him to be able to do this. Not only that, they appreciate there’s little value forcing him to use a pen when that causes him problems and distress … especially when he shines so brightly when allowed to use a keyboard or use talk to type.
It not only means they appreciate the issue is HOW Otis learns rather than his capacity TO learn, it means they are focused on his potential rather than his challenges – which is exactly what a school should do, but we know rarely does for a whole host of reasons that I wrote about here.
What is also wonderful is how he is supported by his friends.
Back in my day, kids seized on the slightest weakness and used it to taunt you mercilessly.
But this generation aren’t like that. They’re supportive, encouraging and helpful.
In fact his friend Archie recently said to him, “I wish I had dysgraphia so I could use a computer all the time too”.
I hope that continues … but I am grateful for it happening now.
And today he turns 9.
NINE!!!
I remember that day in Shanghai when he was born like it was yesterday.
The early morning realization it was happening.
The 300 step walk to the new hospital near our home.
The wait.
The pushing.
The birth.
The tears of happiness.
The stupid first photograph. [See below]
The phone call to Mum.
The pink onesie.
The takeaway delivery.
The utter exhaustion. [Sorry Jill, I know you did all the work but …]
The constant wake up and marvel at him while checking he’s alive.
And now … 9 years and 4 countries later … we’re here.
I love you Otis. You have done so much for me I can’t put it into words.
But I’ll try.
You’ve made me a better person.
A better human, a better husband and – hopefully – a better dad.
More open.
More understanding.
More aware.
More appreciative.
More desperate to make you proud.
I wish with all my heart my Mum and Dad could have met you.
I know they would have loved the hell out of you.
Not just because you’re their first [and, let’s face it, only] grandchild … but because you’re a curious, cheeky, kind and happy, compassionate and passionate kid … bursting with energy, imagination and a deep sense of righteousness, all held together with a deep respect for being precise, considered and thoughtful.
Bloody hell! Talk about showing me up.
I’m proud to be your Dad.
I love seeing you develop and grow every day.
Watching you commit with a fierce focus on things you want to master … whether that’s Rubik’s Cubes, Yoyo’s, swimming, Mario, finding the funniest Reel or getting Robux out of me.
But it’s more than that …
It’s your understanding of who you are, regardless of others influence or pressure.
Your vegetarianism.
Your disinterest in sport.
Your physical and emotional boundaries.
There are adults who haven’t worked that out yet, let alone feel comfortable enough to acknowledge it … but you have and do. It’s amazing.
It’s one of the reasons I have more faith in your generation to take us to a better place, than I do of mine.
And I promise I’ll do my best to stop us fucking it up so you have a chance to make it happen.
Because the greatest gift I could have is to see you grow and blossom for as long as possible.
To be able to watch you discover your life of adventure and fulfilment.
To witness the choices you make for the life you want to create.
That would be everything to me.
Not because I have any expectations, but because I just want to see you live and embrace your life.
I love you so much Otis.
Never stop being just who you are.
The happiest of happy birthday’s to you my wonderful son.
Dad xox
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Family, Fatherhood, Holiday, Jill, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis
So I’m back.
And of all the trips I go on, this was one of the best.
In fact it was the best I’ve had since 2016.
Specifically June, 2016.
And why can I be that specific?
Because I wasn’t on a business trip, I was on a family holiday … our first since 2016.
OK … so when we first moved back to England we spent 4 days in a house in another part of England, 2 hours from where we lived … and we visited family in Australia a couple of times … but in terms of a ‘get-away-from-everything and everyone, have nothing to do and just hang out with each other’, this was the first one in 7 years.
There’s many reasons why it has been that long – all basically my fault – but it was magical.
Bizarrely it felt a bit like Covid.
Not the horrible parts of it, I mean the highly privileged version I got to have by being in the wonderful company of my wonderful family 24/7.
I’ve written a lot about how special that was for me. How utterly fortunate that was for me.
And while this family time lasted a fraction of covid time, it had the added benefit of having no expectations or commitments … other than check in with the folks staying in our house so we could see how Rosie and Sky were doing.
A break from everything is incredible.
Now, I admit, the impact of this wasn’t as big as my first ever New Zealand Christmas holiday – a time where most of the nation shuts down to ensure everyone enjoys a time of rest – it was pretty close.
I stepped away from all things work.
I was left alone by all things work.
And I was left with nothing to focus on but my family.
No agendas. No time limits. No interruptions.
Of course they deserve that and it shouldn’t take a holiday to do that.
And it doesn’t … but this was more than just together time, this was building new memories together time. I know, I sound like bloody Paula Abdul, but it was that wonderful to me. I mean … look at this photo I took.
Look at it … it’s bloody awesome. [the view, not the photo]
Of course it’s a privilege to be able to do this.
And I am under no illusion how lucky I was to be able to do this.
I remember as a kid, we didn’t have a holiday for 6 years. To be honest, I never realised it because we would go for day trips to places. But as I got older I realised the lack of a holiday was because they just didn’t have the cash and would rather use any money they saved to ensure I had what I needed.
God, my parents were amazing. I really hope they know how much I recognised that in them.
Now of course, you don’t have to go to another country to have ‘a holiday’, but I do think you have to be in a different place to where you live.
Maybe it’s why I resonated so much with something the writer Nora Ephron once said about things she’d miss once she’d died.
She said, “Few things are as special as dinner with friends in cities none of you live in”.
She’s right. There’s something so special about that.
And while she meant everyone at the table lived somewhere different, it works for families too.
After 7 years, I can say that with utter certainty.
I hope everyone has a chance to do that – but I know they don’t.
I hate how companies treat holidays as a ‘gift’ rather than a right.
Especially those who talk about unlimited holidays when we all know it’s a total scam.
If there’s unlimited holiday, then why do you ever have to come into the office?
Exactly … it’s a PR headline, not a reality.
Which is why I’m so grateful I got to embrace and enjoy it.
And I’m so sorry I’ve been the barrier to having more of it.
So thank you to my wonderful family for creating new memories for us all to enjoy.
As use of time goes, it’s one of the most productive of them all … which is far more than I can say about the next few days. Because I am back on a plane, but this time for work rather than family adventure. But on the bright side, at least everyone gets another holiday from me.
You’re welcome.
See you next week.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Cats, China, Culture, Emotion, EvilGenius, Family, Fatherhood, Happiness, Hong Kong, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, Loyalty, New Zealand, Nottingham, Otis, Parents, Relationships, Rosie, Shanghai, Singapore, Stubborness
So on Saturday, it will be our cat – Rosie’s – 16th birthday.
Sixteen. For a street cat from Singapore, that’s amazing.
What’s also amazing is that she’s still in pretty good nick.
Yes, you can tell she’s getting old.
She’s slower … less mobile and definitely sleeps more.
But by the same token she remains cranky, vocal and remains as demanding as ever.
And if another cat comes anywhere near our house, she goes full gangster mode … hissing, growling and acting like she’s ready to fight despite the fact she’s behind a glass door.
Like those TikTok videos that show men loving family dogs they didn’t originally want their family to have … I was in a similar situation.
I didn’t really want us to have a pet.
Not because I’m a bastard, but because Jill and I were living in Singapore and I didn’t know how long we’d be there and I just was worried about the hassle of bringing it with us.
But Jill had always had pets and I wanted her to be happy, so while she originally wanted a dog, we settled on getting a cat.
She threw herself into the search.
It wasn’t just about getting any cat, she had to feel a connection to it … so after visiting various pet shops with their over-priced, pure-bred snooty moggies, she came across a little street cat that had been found by a family and was wondering if anyone wanted to adopt.
Jill went to see it and it is here that street cat did the best move of their life.
As Jill lifted her up to her face, Rosie moved her head forward so their noses touched.
Despite the fact Rosie would not show such love and tenderness for about 6 years, that ensured the deal was done and we were now a cat family.
I still remember sitting in a cab outside the apartment as Jill went to pick her up.
I was a bit anxious and nervous and eventually the door opened and there she was, in her little cat bag, where we both wondered what the fuck we had in store for each other.
And while there have been some annoying, painful and scary moments … it’s been generally nothing but joy.
Put it simply, I bloody love that cat.
There’s things I’ve done for her that I wouldn’t do for anyone. Literally anyone.
What things? Well how about some of this …
In HK we paid someone to pat her so she didn’t feel lonely. I did a project for an airline on the condition they flew her in the crew quarters rather than the cargo hold. We built ‘penthouses’ for her to hang out in. I gave an entire presentation about what a client can learn from her and her ways. I even got my office painted with her – and some of my colleagues moggies. And that’s just the tip of the sad-cat-bastard iceberg.
That said, every year I worry this is the year … the one where we have to say goodbye.
And while I know that will happen eventually, she’s doing OK.
Yes she needs some blood pressure medication, but apart from that, she’s in pretty good nick.
That said, I remember when we were moving to NZ I was worried that would be it.
Despite having flown from Singapore to HK … HK to Shanghai … Shanghai to LA and LA to London … London to Auckland is a whole different beast.
But bizarrely it wasn’t just the distance that worried me, it was that there was a stopover in Singapore – and given she was originally from there, my nihilistic side told me it was written in the stars that if there was any place she would reach the end, it would be where she started, like some fucked-up circle of life. Which – to be fair to me – is kinda what happened when Otis was born and my wonderful Mum died a few months later. Which – given I knew she was ill – was something my nihilistic side had also started to feed into my head.
Except with Rosie, it thankfully didn’t happen. [Fuck you, nihilism brain]
Better yet, we knew it hadn’t happened at the time because we had paid for a service that ensured at every stage she was checked and photographed.
Hell, even when we ended up in MIQ in NZ – where we spent longer in quarantine than she did – we got bombarded with pics of her and she looked to be having the time of her life.
Jetlagged … but happy, thanks to brushes and treats that I had already got sent to the quarantine place before our arrival.
But if you think this proves how much she means to me, you’re only partially right.
You see, at her age – which is 80 in human years – my attitude is she’s earned the right to do whatever she wants to do.
Which is why I’ll get up at 3am if she decides she wants a treat at 3am.
Which is why I’ll give her my chair if she decides she wants to be under the aircon.
Which is why I’ll buy her an extortionately expensive outdoor beanbag because she loves sitting outside in summer.
If we were her servants before, we’re her slaves now and I’m OK with that.
NZ is good for her.
She has a lovely, comfortable peaceful life.
Lots of places to go hang out, a big deck to sit and watch the birds and loads of food and water. And treats.
And where in the past you always felt she was disappointed in you, now you feel her gratefulness.
A cuddle here. A lick there. Meows, headrubs and sleeping on your hip.
Hell, she’s even totally chill that Sky – Otis’ budgie – is in the house.
It’s a lovely feeling.
A family feeling.
And while we give her so much, she’s given us – and me – more.
Happy Birthday my dear Rosie. Keep proving the critics wrong and us on our toes.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Cannes, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Friendship, Holiday, Jill, Love, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Parents, Paul, Paula, Planners, Planning, Queen, Shelly
So let’s start with the good news …
This is my last post until the 26th June.
That’s over 2 weeks of peace and quiet!!!
You lucky people. [Though who knows if anyone reads this now comments have stopped]
The bad news is this post is going to be loooooooong. Proper long.
And possibly ‘jealousy inducing’ … or at least insult igniting, given the blagging I’ll be acknowledging.
But there are valid reasons behind it all. Honest.
First up is that I have a bunch of birthday’s to acknowledge …
First of all is mine, because on Monday, I turn 53.
FIFTY FUCKING THREE!
This means I am closer to 70 than 30 …
Normally that would be depressing as fuck, but I was recently given the best present ever when Metallica’s management said I was, “immune from maturity”.
Of course, I appreciate under normal circumstances this would be a big diss, however at my age – and when they represent genuine Rockstars – this may be the best compliment ever.
Let’s be honest, it’s going to have to be because there’s not many more reasons to be happy.
But 3 days later, it’s my darling Jill’s birthday.
Whereas I get more immature with age, she gets more wonderful.
I wish that was simply my attempt at being a romantic husband … but she really is.
I would love to detail how, but as I’ve mentioned before – she hates the attention on her, especially on this blog – so just know it makes me very happy to see because she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and is more than I deserve.
Happy birthday my darling Jill, I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day.
Now you may think I have suddenly become a soppy-sod – and I am OK with that – but you may feel a bit differently when I tell you that on the night of Jill’s birthday, where most people would be having a celebratory dinner – I will be waving goodbye to her, getting on a plane and flying to England because the next day it’s …
Paul’s birthday.
That’s right, for the first time since 2020, I’ll be spending Paul’s birthday with him and seeing him and Shelly for the first time in over a year.
I’m so, so happy I can do that. I’m also so excited to see them.
The older I get, the more I want to be closer to them – even though I appreciate how ironic it is to say that when I have chosen to live just about as far away from them as I possibly can.
Who knows what will happen in the future to change that [actually, I do, I just don’t know when] but I’m thrilled I’m going to get to spend Paul’s special day with him and hang out with him and Shelly for a few days.
That I get to be with 2 of my most special and treasured people on their birthday .. means that however hard 2023 is, it is going to be a great year for me.
Thank god for horrific timezone difference between NZ and UK.
Which all leads to the final journey of my blog silence …
And that is me leaving Nottingham to fly to Cannes to present on stage with 2 more special and treasured people – Paula Bloodworth and Martin Weigel.
Like Paul, the last time I saw them in person was a year ago, so to not just see them … but present with them … is an utter thrill.
I say that, but at the time of writing this post, we have only written 4 slides so unless we pull our finger out, it may be a case of being happy to see them but a total nightmare to present with them – hahaha.
And finally, as much as Cannes can drive me nuts, it gives me an opportunity to see a bunch of old friends from my past which will be bloody wonderful – especially as George and Lee will be there and so it can feel like I’ve let comments back on this blog, haha.
So there you have it.
That’s why I’m not writing any posts for a couple of weeks.
And while some of you will claim its a massive holiday, it’s actually me reconnecting to life.
That’s honestly how it feels.
I appreciate that sounds overly dramatic … after all, it’s not like I don’t talk to them all pretty much every week.
And obviously, in the case of Jill, I get to see here every single day.
I also appreciate the privilege of being able to fly over there to see the rest of them – not to mention I am the one who put myself in the position of being away from them.
But this is more than just being in their physical company – which will be special in itself – it’s about the undivided time.
No zoom time limits … or snatched moments before the next interruption … actual time.
Time to go on endless tangents.
Time to go down multiple rabbitholes.
Time to enjoy the pregnant pauses.
Time to talk shit … rather than maximise the time allocated. Or allowed.
Time to be cocooned away from the other stuff that likes to interrupt and dictate.
And while many may think they get this every day, I’m not so sure.
Yes, being physically close to people you care about does – in theory – make this easier to do.
But proximity doesn’t automatically equate to intimacy.
You have to want it. Demand it. Not be satisfied with a different version of it.
And most of the time that’s not the case …
We don’t even realise it’s happening because we get so caught up in the whirlwind of life.
Dealing with the pressures, demands, expectation and – for some – the self-importance of our own lives.
And that’s why there is something to be said about living away from those that matter.
I know … that sounds the opposite of what I’ve just written … but hang in there.
You see I used to think the benefit of living around the world was that you could discover and explore possibilities you never knew even existed … let alone were actually possible.
And it’s true.
I’m not exaggerating when I say everything I have in my life – outside of Paul and Shelley – is because I chose to explore the world rather than stay in Nottingham,.
Every. Single. Thing.
That doesn’t mean people who stay where they are from can’t also discover new possibilities, but it’s definitely going to be harder which is why I will be forever grateful for the opportunity – and my naivety – to go and explore what life was made of, despite not having the faintest idea of what I was doing.
It’s why I always tell people who have been offered the chance to live overseas that they shouldn’t let the things they’ll miss, hold them back … instead, they should think about all the things they may discover.
And I still stand by that.
But of course, missing the people you love is a big thing.
A huge thing.
I definitely missed my parents every single day and I went through a lot of emotional challenges on that journey.
But I was also extremely lucky my parents wanted me to explore.
Of course they missed me.
Of course they would have loved me to be closer.
But they wanted me to forge my own life, not be restrained by theirs, which is an act of love that still takes my breath away.
Even more so when they could have – and maybe should have – asked me to stay, given my Dad’s health situation that happened 6 weeks before I was due to leave for Australia.
I offered.
I meant it.
But they said no … and I swear it’s because they knew if I didn’t go then, I may never go at all.
That’s just so typical of my parents … always wanting the best for me while also understanding the reality of me.
And while part of this was them having faith in the values they’d taught me – for example, chase a life of fulfillment, not contentment – I think another part is they realised something I’ve only just started to discover.
Distance doesn’t make the heart grow fonder, it makes your relationships more present.
Greater focus, awareness and understanding on what makes you work together. The confidence to dismiss the differences that stand in the way of your connection. The willingness to be vulnerable – not just to enable greater intimacy – but to acknowledge their desire to want to help you, even if you feel they shouldn’t need to. And an openness to the uncomfortable in the knowledge, you’re not being judged … you’re reaching out.
I appreciate this all sounds like a post-rationalisation for being away from the ones I love and care about.
And maybe a bit is.
But as I’ve said before, creating space so the people who matter get the best of me rather than what is left of me is important.
It’s not easy.
It comes with challenges and sacrifices.
But while proximity keeps you near, maybe – just maybe – distance helps close the gap.
See you in a couple of weeks.
Filed under: 2023, Advertising, Agency Culture, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Cannes, China, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Context, Corona Virus, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fashion, Fatherhood, Holiday, Individuality, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Martin Weigel, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Paul, Paula, Peace, Prejudice, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Revenge, Review, School, Shanghai, Travel, Trust, Truth
So with all the focus on Otis’ 9th birthday, I only just realized this is going to be the last week of this blog for this year. Which means you get a month off and then – when I come back – I will be entering year number 18 of writing my rubbish.
EIGHTEEN YEARS.
An adult.
And will my posts reflect that maturity?
Errrrm, probably not.
In fact a while back, I got called ‘immune to maturity’ by Metallica’s management which they quickly followed up with, “… and I bet you think that’s a compliment.”
That’s why we’re still working together after 7 years … we understand each other so well, ha.
2023 has been an interesting year for me.
Definitely more highs than lows.
In many ways, it has been a standout year for me – both personally and professionally.
I feel almost embarrassed to say that. I totally appreciate how many people are suffering right now. I have friends in tough places and there’s those dealing with everything from mental health challenges through to terrifying conflicts … which just reinforced how privileged and lucky I am.
For the first time in my life, I started this year with a resolution, and it was to say ‘yes’ to everything I was asked to do.
I don’t know why I decided to do that – maybe it is because for all of NZ’s magic [of which there’s tons] it can sometimes feel a pretty isolated, inward-focused place – so to counter that, I decided 2023 was the year of yes and I got to do a lot of that.
Saying yes let me travel literally around the world for work … including some countries/cities I’d never been to in my life. [Not to mention, having the gift of visiting my childhood home again, even though I burst into tears when the lovely new owner opened the door, haha]
I got to speak at a bunch of ace conferences. from Cannes – with my mates Paula and Martin – the magnificent State Of Social in Perth right through to the WWD World Fashion Conference in China [with the incredible Phoebe Philo and, bizarrely, being interviewed by Fashion TV] with a whole bunch in-between.
I was a guest speaker at a bunch of institutions from Cambridge University, the Ecuadorian Advertising Federation right through to the House of Prada.
I got to be part of some incredible creative projects. From the huge: helping design the 72 Seasons world tour stage set for Metallica. The cheeky: offering the All Blacks rugby coach a free curry for a year if he brought home the World Cup, then taking away his naan bread because he didn’t. To the most awarded: watching the wonderful fools at Colenso pick up Gold gongs and Agency of the Year title’s all over the place.
Top that off with seeing 3 members of my team become parents for the first time [and another about 3 months into that magical journey] and to see the 3 newbies from overseas not only fit in with the gang like they were here for years, but make an even bigger difference than I hoped – and you can see why I feel it has been a hugely satisfying year for me professionally.
But it’s the personal side that made it truly memorable.
First of all, we’re all happy and healthy. Like properly happy and healthy.
Then, for the first time in 7 years, we had our first proper family holiday. And while It did not last long in terms of duration, the glow still is with me months later. Yes, I appreciate that sounds more sickly than being force fed 5047389 sticks of candyfloss, it’s true.
Jill started her new company, Tiny Riot … a jewellery company dedicated to say the words women feel, but don’t always want to say out loud. She also felt she had found her peeps … letting her feel she was part of a community she loves and thrives in. I cannot tell you how happy this makes me, especially as we know we’ll no doubt be moving to another country in the not too distant future, hahaha.
Just to be clear, that has not been decided yet, we just know it’s coming … especially as we’ve already lived in NZ longer than we have lived in the last 4 countries we have been in. But I digress …
Which leave Otis …
Brilliant, wonderful, fantastic Otis.
Well, he has flourished and blossomed this year.
From seeing his mates network evolve and develop … with their own codes, games and slang … through to watching him throw himself into new activities, like tennis and swimming, yoyo’s and messing about with Roblox, Reels and video games … to seeing him love his budgie, Sky [which he made me a t-shirt to wear on the Cannes stage to ensure I admitted I cared for it as much as Rosie, ha] and then of course, watching him deal with his dysgraphia diagnosis with positivity, openness and conviction.
Given I have seen adults literally burst into tears when they had to move desks at work – true story – seeing an 8, now 9 year old – embrace a challenge that will affect him for the rest of his life with understanding, openness and a desire to not let it define him or make excuses for him is honestly one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing.
[I also have to add Forest staying in the Premiership was a highlight, because while Jill and Otis may not like to hear it … that team are family to me, hahaha]
But of course, you can’t have good without bad and there’s been a couple of things that have shaken me deeply.
One in particular made me question everything I thought I knew and could rely on.
The impact it had on me was – and still is – huge. I would say it has been the most emotionally confronting situation I’ve experienced since my parents died. It has been that big.
What makes it even worse is that in reality, I may never really get over it as the impact affects me and my family for the rest of our lives.
And we’re the least affected in this situation.
It has taken me months to try and come to terms with what has happened … to try and accept things I thought I knew and could rely on, have failed.
If truth be told, I’m still working on it … because while I appreciate life can take unexpected turns, it’s why – and how others deal with it – that determines how you feel about it and in this case, they are the things that ended up being disastrously dealt with.
Which is why 2023 can never be seen as a spectacular year for us, merely a very good one.
And as I said, that is still a hugely positive outcome given so many are suffering in ways that make my pain seem insignificant.
Which is why I was so impacted by some graffiti that someone I vaguely know, told me about.
It’s this …
… they’re not wrong.
Which is why, while I know 2024 will face it’s challenges – especially with the US election and the likelihood America will lose its mind and vote for Trump [while acknowledging the Democrats have failed to find and develop a single worthy candidate in 4+ years] – I hope by this time next year, more people can say they had a more positive than challenging year because the World needs it. Because for all the hell that Covid subjected the planet too, the anxiety created by people [read: old, white men] who feel entitled to do and have whatever they want is arguably, even worse. And without wanting to sound like a hippie … some peace would be nice.
I know no one will have read this far, but then this is not for you … but I can assure you the last 3 posts of this week won’t be as indulgent, not for your sanity, but because I can’t be arsed to write so much rubbish again.