Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Colenso, Colleagues, Creativity, Culture, Cunning, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Happiness, Health, Home, Hope, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Martin Weigel, Mercedes, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents, Paul, Queen, Relationships, Resonance, Rosie, Shelly
So this is it, the last post of 2022.
Again, I want to say a big thank you to everyone and anyone who has read or commented on my ranting rubbish.
I have to say, I miss the comments.
I know it was my choice to stop them, but I do miss them – so maybe I’ll have to bring them back, even though I’ve become waaaaaaay more productive since they’ve been turned off as I don’t have to spend vast amounts of my time checking what insults have been written to me and about me, hahaha.
But lack of comments aside, it’s been a big year … mainly because it has been the first year in a couple of years without any lock-down. And yet I still find it bizarre seeing people not wearing masks and being able to get on a plane again.
To think of the isolation, suffering and pain so many people suffered, the speed of the bounce-back has taken my breath away. Of course there are still people enduring tough times … but given the horror of the pandemic has seemingly been replaced by the threat of nuclear war and economic collapse, maybe COVID wasn’t so bad after all.
That said, I’m so grateful for the ability to travel again as it meant I was able to go on a trip that I’ll never, ever forget.
A trip where I got to see my beloved Martin getting married in Portugal.
A trip where I got to see my beloved Nottingham Forest getting promoted at Wembley.
A trip where I got to see my beloved Queen in concert with a ticket I bought 2 years earlier.
A trip where I got to see my beloved Paul, after the longest time we’ve been apart in 52 years.
It was, without exaggeration, one of the most special times in my life … with stuff I thought I may never see – or see again – so you will understand why I still feel so grateful to be able to have experienced it.
But beyond that, there were many other things that made this year memorable.
We did some fun work including Beyond Binary, Rick and Morty, Phone It In and Give Up On Humans. Our agency Christmas gift was interesting too. I say interesting, but I mean ridiculous, especially compared to last years more sophisticated Restraining Order, haha.
I wrote a pretty decent April Fools post that conned a few people.
And then, more seriously, I wrote some posts about my dalliance with depression, fulfilment, prejudice and respect that seemed to mean something to people, which made me feel happy it helped in some way.
I worked with Metallica, Miley Cyrus, Muse and Journey, to different degrees of success and enjoyment, hahaha.
We produced Dream Small … which I’m not only very proud of, but has led to conversations and change I never imagined we could have.
The way Otis – and his school – dealt with his dysgraphia diagnosis.
I celebrated my Mum’s 90th.
I got to see the wonderful Maya and Bree again, after years.
I was somehow featured in a book.
My Bohemian Catsody office mural … featuring Rosie amongst others.
I laughed myself stupid about Gi’s shit explosion while also being proud as punch of my wonderful team with our WARC/Cannes Global Grand Prix for effectiveness … followed up with us winning the same achievement at the NZ Effies … followed up by us winning the Global Grand Effie a few weeks later.
Renovating the old Colenso table to give it – and the irrepressible, unmistakeable Kate Maitland – the respect and recognition they deserve.
Lizzie and Amy’s news.
And Paula’s wonderful ray of sunshine.
Then finding the brilliant Briar and Shelly … with Martin and Meg arriving in Jan. [Which in Meg’s case, is almost 2 years in the waiting]
And last – but certainly not least – seeing Boris get pushed out quickly [literally and figuratively] by Liz Truss, even though the evil Tories somehow remain in power.
Of course there was some sad and disappointing stuff.
The loss of the irreplaceable and wonderful Dan Wieden.
Queenie … which hit me far more than I ever imagined it would.
Ben. Who left us too soon.
Mike’s motorcycle accident.
Henry, Liam and Robin left the team.
My first dalliance with COVID. And Jill too.
The bullshit that Simon P was forced to deal with and face.
Not to mention the horrible situation one of our clients was exposed to by the worst of society.
And then too many terrible global events, with the situations in Ukraine and Iran being possibly the worst of them all. What makes these last two even more disturbing is how the media only pay lip service to them. As if they don’t deem the horrors ‘relevant’ enough for their viewers and readers so they hide it on pages 5 and 6 … behind articles on energy bills, political scandal and sports scores.
I know it’s Christmas, but instead of having that one extra drink or buying that one shitty pressie, donating that money to organisations who offer support and help would be amazing. Two of them are this for Ukraine and this for Iran.
2022 has reminded me how privileged and comfortable my life is.
While compared to many, I have only experienced that sort of life, there have been times that have challenged me.
1999 was horrid.
As was 2015.
And last December was arguably, the worst month I’ve ever faced.
But this year, from a purely personal perspective, has generally been pretty special for me and one of the biggest reasons for that is my family.
I know we’re all supposed to say that, but it’s true.
Not just for who they are, but because for some reason, I feel we got even closer.
Emotionally.
Supportively.
Connectively.
To be honest, I thought we were already as close as you can be, but I discovered there’s actually no limit to the level of connection you can feel with loved ones and that has left me feeling a bit overwhelmed.
Maybe it’s because NZ is so far from everyone, we feel closer to each other. Maybe it’s because we don’t see the people we love so often, we have become more reliant on each other. Maybe it’s because we just have gone through some stuff that it reinforced how special we are to each other. Maybe it’s for reasons I’ve not wanted to admit before because it challenges the priorities I’ve lived by before.
Who knows, but what I can say is I love my ramshackle collection of Campbell’s.
Including Rosie, of course.
They’re not perfect.
They can drive me nuts.
But they’re mine and I adore every bit of them.
Which is why I want to sign off by saying to them – and to the rest of you – that whatever you do over this period, I hope it gives you all you want and all you need. I am grateful for everything every one of you put in my life and I hope 2023 – as scary as many are suggesting it will be – will surprise us all with its happiness and fulfilment.
Just as long as mine is happier and more fulfilling than yours.
Hey, I may be getting more tolerant in my old age, but I’m still as only-child demanding as ever.
Have a great one. Back Feb 1. I hope to see you in 2023.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Colenso, Comment, Family, New Zealand
This is a photo of my home. Obviously taken at night.
I love this place.
It’s probably my favourite place of all the places I’ve ever lived.
Of course, being able to have any home is a total privilege … so having one you really love is bordering on obscene. I get that.
And it’s obscene how much I love this place.
The fact it’s built into the trees.
That it’s surrounded by nature.
That it has outside decks on multiple floors.
That it’s close to work and yet feels a million miles away.
And then there’s the fact we bought it without having seen it – or even being in the country – which just makes it feel like we won the lottery. Except we paid a shitload for the ticket, haha.
So knowing one day we’ll leave it makes it all the more difficult.
Of course we don’t know when, but it will happen.
And while we’ve talked about trying to build an exect replica wherever we end up next … we know even if it was identical, it wouldn’t be the same.
Because a home is more than those walls.
It’s the environment. The surrounding area. The community. The moment in time.
Which is why I especially love the top pic.
Because while it doesn’t show much, it shows just enough.
A big steel door that holds a warm, inviting shelter.
A place where my family could blossom again after the challenges of covid.
A building where my son, wife and cat could connect to the privilege of living in New Zealand.
In many ways, it’s the most ‘family’ home we’ve had.
I don’t mean that in terms of size, but in our connection to it … which given we’ve lived in other places for far longer is testimony to what it means to us.
What New Zealand has done for us.
What Colenso made happen for us.
Leaving it will be terribly, terribly hard.
And while people reading this may rightfully say, “stop wishing your life away” … the reality is it means we’re not taking anything for granted. We notice and embrace every detail. We remain thankful for what we have. And in my book, that’s an act of love … which may be the most mature thing I’ve ever said, let alone done, in my life.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Context, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Differentiation, Distinction, Diversity, Education, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Equality, Family, Fatherhood, Government, Happiness, Imagination, Inclusion, Individuality, Insight, Jill, Love, Management, Marketing, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Parents, Perspective, Prejudice, Relevance, Resonance, Respect, Social Divide, Standards, Teamwork, Trust
I recently saw this piece of brilliance …
Isn’t it awesome?
Of course some people will think it’s cute … but wrong.
Whereas others may think it’s cute … and smart.
Putting aside the fact the responsibility for clarity of communication is with the communicator, not the recipient – which means the exam board have to accept their role in the answer given – it also highlights how one persons ‘normal’ is another persons ‘lateral thinking’.
I know that sounds a big leap for what is a young kids incorrect/correct answer to an exam question … but at a time where the British PM wants to kill the arts and freedom of expression for kids in schools – in favour of even more logical and rational studies – it’s a sign how early we try to destroy/control/devalue the imaginations of the young.
What I find ironic about the British PM’s stance is that he seems to be of the belief that having people study maths for longer will make everything better.
Putting aside the fact that much of the UK’s global influence – ignoring the violent invasions of other countries – has come from the arts, that’s a big call to make.
Even more so when you consider the financial mess the UK is in right now, has come from the hands of the very people he wants to encourage more of.
As a parent this situation is very difficult.
Of course we want our children to be set up to embrace life. But if they’re all being taught the same thing … in the same way … without consideration of what their own personal talents, interests and abilities are … then are you actually preparing them to thrive or simply survive?
Recently Otis got diagnosed with a learning difficulty.
I say difficulty, but really it’s a complication.
It’s called Dysgraphia.
While this doesn’t affect his ability to learn, it does affect how he does it and what he may be able to do because of it.
We are incredibly grateful the school he goes to – Birkenhead Primary – not only embraced this situation by changing the way he could engage and present his schoolwork. They did it by specifically tailoring their classes and approach to ensure Otis could participate in ways that actively played to his strengths while maintaining the pace of everyone’s learning. And if that wasn’t impressive enough … they were the ones who first noticed there may be an area of challenge for him and were proactive in acting on it.
The impact of this approach on Otis has been enormous.
Not just in areas of his schoolwork that were being impacted because of dysgraphia, but in his overall confidence, enjoyment and willingness to participate.
He has always been a kid who tries hard and wants to do the right thing [so definitely more like Jill than me] … but thanks to his teachers, he now feels he can express himself fully rather than having to become a smaller version of himself in an attempt to find a way to get through certain areas of class that challenged him because of his dysgraphia rather than his ability.
Frankly I doubt this would have happened if we were still in the UK.
Not because the teachers aren’t as good, but because the system doesn’t allow the sort of deviation of approach that Otis’ school created for him.
What’s scary is Sunak’s attitude towards education will only make this situation for kids like Otis, even harder.
Either actively leaving them behind or setting them up for a life of anxiety, guilt and feelings of inadequacy. And yet it doesn’t have to be that way.
So many of these complications aren’t barriers to learning capacity, just accessibility.
A bit of flexibility can unlock the full potential of a child, especially with the power of technology these days.
But the schooling system is increasingly about ‘targets’ rather than learning.
Preparing you for exams rather than life.
Systems rather than needs.
And while I totally accept creating an education system that caters to the masses as well as the edges is incredibly difficult, having a one-dimensional system that ‘succeeds’ by forcing compliance and oppression is not the solution either.
What the British PM needs to understand is making kids study maths for longer isn’t going to solve the UK’s economic woes. But maybe designing an education system that enables teachers to help kids learn how to play to their strengths, is.
Or to paraphase Sir Ken Robinson … see creativity and imagination as a strength, not a weakness.
We’re so lucky Otis’ school values potential rather than parity … but I can’t help but wonder how many other clever kids are out there who have been written off simply because the system would not allow for them to be recognised, embraced and helped.
When will certain governments understand an educated generation is a successful nation?
Probably when they understand school should be about learning not teaching and it’s an investment rather than a cost.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Culture, Emotion, Family, Fulfillment, Happiness, Love, Mum & Dad, Paul
There’s a lot of talk about the ‘great resignation’, but as I’ve written in the past, when you spend time talking to the people doing it – or hoping to do it – you learn the correct term for it should be ‘the great reset’ or, in some cases, ‘the last hope’.
The reality is the situation isn’t new.
People have felt trapped in their jobs for decades. Centuries even.
But the basic premise was ‘if you want to earn increasing amounts of money, you have to stay on the path you have chosen’.
It kind of makes sense, until you factor in the economic value of happiness and fulfilment.
Add in companies increasing lack of loyalty towards their employees and you realise the younger generation are both smarter and braver than most of my peers.
I say most because there’s people like my best friend Paul.
I’ve written about Paul’s journey from printer to Frothy Coffee Man but the more I think about it, the more amazing it is.
Because while leaving a paying job to do the same job for yourself is an act of self-belief – acknowledging it still requires a huge amount of effort if you want to continue growing, rather than just stay where you are – leaving a job you’ve done for decades to do something totally different is an act of hope.
Well, that’s what it may seem …
The reality is carrying on doing something you aren’t enjoying is the most sensible thing you can do.
What stops us is the risk of it failing.
The worry that instead of taking a step forward, we end up going backwards.
And then that idea fucks with your head and you end up carrying on as you were.
Miserable is your arrested development of life.
But Paul didn’t do that.
He decided to do something about it …
Now becoming Frothy Coffee Man wasn’t all a punt in the dark.
While he hadn’t done it before, he loved the idea of being self-employed. He loved the idea of dealing with people. He wasn’t frightened of hard work. He was realistic about what he needed and wanted out of it. He loved being outdoors. And his fucking wonderful personality was made to build relationships with strangers.
He also had an incredibly supportive wife who encouraged him.
As well as a best mate who did the same. ie: Me.
So he went for it. And it has been the best decision of his life … first emotionally and then pretty soon afterwards, financially.
I’ve written a lot about how my parents drilled into me the importance of fulfilment over contentment.
To be honest it took me a long time to realise what they truly meant.
But in essence it was this.
Always choose the bigger life.
I’m so glad Paul did it. I’m so glad I was taught it. I hope more people find theirs.
Because as hard as it may seem, it’s only one considered decision away.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood
Tomorrow would be my Dad’s 84th birthday.
That means he’s been gone 24 years, approaching half my life.
How is that possible?
But of course it is … demonstrated by the fact that I’ve been using the same photos of him on birthday posts for entire time this blog has been going.
Which is over 16 years.
They’re the things that reinforce the time he has been gone.
And yet he’s still here.
Maybe not as much as he was in the past, but where it matters.
Mum and Dad … this seminal duo in my life.
There for the big things in the first and second chapters of my life.
The good and the bad.
Of course I’d love them to still be here.
As I’ve written many times, the fact I have not been able to talk to my Dad about the life I’ve found myself living is one of the great sad parts of my life.
He’d have been thrilled.
And full of questions.
Which I would have absolutely loved to have answered for him.
I sometimes try to think of all the things he would have asked.
Some would be obvious, but his brain was so wonderful he would have thrown out some very unique questions. Questions that would make me think as much as he would be considering the answer.
Wanting to understand.
Wanting to connect.
Wanting to grow because of it.
That’s the kind of man he was. He deserved so much more than he ended up getting … but what he offered as a father was unsurpassed.
Even with the bits that used to drive me nuts.
Like the love of his sweet pea flowers, which were treated like new born children.
I still remember the time I ran in the house from the garden and trampled on them – as he’d left them in boxes by the windows to care for.
That was NOT a good conversation … hahahaha.
But I never doubted his love for me – and hopefully he felt the same – which for a parent, must be one of the greatest accolades a kid can give.
Hopefully Otis will think that about his old man.
Because I definitely think that about his grandpa.
Happy birthday Dad. Give Mum a big kiss from me.
Rx