Showing posts tagged grateful

Observations:

  • Evidently, I have at least one comically-oversized hand. 
  • McDonalds’ baby change rooms are not as photogenic as a nice park, dummy.
  • My daughter is wonderful.
38 Special I turned 38 yesterday, to much heartfelt (albeit very-localised) fanfare. Three wonderful kids hugged and kissed me and excitedly serenaded me with their own versions of “Happy Birthday”.  (In Laura’s case, that’s only “Happy Day! Happy Day!” and “Daaaaaaa-dy”, but I’m willing to let that slide until she’s at least 18 months).  A loving wife cooked me delicious pancakes, tempered with a healthy, we’d-like-to-keep-you-around-a-bit-longer fruit salad.  There were balloons and streamers.  Beautiful, handmade cards were given, adorned with glue and glitter and pom-poms and beads.  Thoughtful, generous presents were bestowed.  Party bags were distributed, even though it was just the five of us.  The cake was left uncut but most of it’s M&M’s and chocolate finger decorations disappeared over the course of the day - first with much stealth and finesse from inconspicuous parts at the back, then with who-am-I-kidding abandon.      We took up a work friend’s invitation to meet Lightning McQueen and Mack at the V8 Supercars, then played several dozen games of Mario Kart Wii (2 extra steering wheels were among my birthday presents, allowing for four racers simultaneously - a source of huge excitement), and we ended the celebrations with Pass The Parcel…to PSY’s “Gangnam Style”, no less.  The parcel stopped with me twice, and I scored Cars stickers and a sweet HotWheels ‘81 Delorean.   I’m pretty close to 40, now, and all that that implies.  My body doesn’t work as well as it did, nor is it in very flattering shape (Stephen Fry’s “bin-liner full of yoghurt” comes to mind).  My lower back aches and early in the morning and late at night I hobble around like an invalid - or at least someone well beyond my age.  I’m much more tired, I sleep less.  I worry more - there’s so much more to worry about (and more people to worry over), now.  I wish I had more energy, more clarity, more time.  I’m definitely, unavoidably, painfully older.   But do I wish I was younger?   Nope.  As an Internet-pal reminds me on several of his podcasts, no change can ever happen in a vacuum, and everything we think we wish was different will inevitably cause other, usually-unintended, often-detrimental changes in other areas.  What trade-offs would I really be willing to make to go back even a few years in time?   Would I wish to be 28 again, back to when I was without these three breathtakingly-special kids?  Not for a moment.  Would I choose to be 18 again - independent and full of energy - when I was yet to meet and fall head-over-heels in love with Melly?  Are you kidding?     To wistfully look back 10 years with regret is so, pointless, so stupid, so myopic.  Turn 28 and wish you were 18 again?; turn 38 and wish you were 28?  Beyond being a waste of time, it betrays an immature and ugly lack of gratitude; an inability or unwillingness to recognise what those years have brought.  My ageing is linear, but my life has grown exponentially over those years. It sure seemed significant at the time, but it turns out that the first half of my life was nothing compared to the second half.  No Mel, no Jessica, no Benjamin, no Laura: these four people that I live for didn’t even start arriving until the halfway mark, and three of them only showed up in the last quarter!  28-year-old me didn’t only had the vaguest inkling of how great the next 10 years could be, and 18-year-old me had no idea whatsoever.  As per usual. I turned 38 yesterday.  I’m older.  And I’m slower.  And I’m heavier.   And I’m incredibly grateful.  View high resolution
38 Special

I turned 38 yesterday, to much heartfelt (albeit very-localised) fanfare.

Three wonderful kids hugged and kissed me and excitedly serenaded me with their own versions of “Happy Birthday”.  (In Laura’s case, that’s only “Happy Day! Happy Day!” and “Daaaaaaa-dy”, but I’m willing to let that slide until she’s at least 18 months).  A loving wife cooked me delicious pancakes, tempered with a healthy, we’d-like-to-keep-you-around-a-bit-longer fruit salad.  There were balloons and streamers. 

Beautiful, handmade cards were given, adorned with glue and glitter and pom-poms and beads.  Thoughtful, generous presents were bestowed.  Party bags were distributed, even though it was just the five of us.  The cake was left uncut but most of it’s M&M’s and chocolate finger decorations disappeared over the course of the day - first with much stealth and finesse from inconspicuous parts at the back, then with who-am-I-kidding abandon.     

We took up a work friend’s invitation to meet Lightning McQueen and Mack at the V8 Supercars, then played several dozen games of Mario Kart Wii (2 extra steering wheels were among my birthday presents, allowing for four racers simultaneously - a source of huge excitement), and we ended the celebrations with Pass The Parcel…to PSY’s “Gangnam Style”, no less.  The parcel stopped with me twice, and I scored Cars stickers and a sweet HotWheels ‘81 Delorean.  

I’m pretty close to 40, now, and all that that implies.  My body doesn’t work as well as it did, nor is it in very flattering shape (Stephen Fry’s “bin-liner full of yoghurt” comes to mind).  My lower back aches and early in the morning and late at night I hobble around like an invalid - or at least someone well beyond my age.  I’m much more tired, I sleep less.  I worry more - there’s so much more to worry about (and more people to worry over), now.  I wish I had more energy, more clarity, more time.  I’m definitely, unavoidably, painfully older.  

But do I wish I was younger?   Nope.  As an Internet-pal reminds me on several of his podcasts, no change can ever happen in a vacuum, and everything we think we wish was different will inevitably cause other, usually-unintended, often-detrimental changes in other areas.  What trade-offs would I really be willing to make to go back even a few years in time?  

Would I wish to be 28 again, back to when I was without these three breathtakingly-special kids?  Not for a moment.  Would I choose to be 18 again - independent and full of energy - when I was yet to meet and fall head-over-heels in love with Melly?  Are you kidding?    

To wistfully look back 10 years with regret is so, pointless, so stupid, so myopic.  Turn 28 and wish you were 18 again?; turn 38 and wish you were 28?  Beyond being a waste of time, it betrays an immature and ugly lack of gratitude; an inability or unwillingness to recognise what those years have brought.  My ageing is linear, but my life has grown exponentially over those years. It sure seemed significant at the time, but it turns out that the first half of my life was nothing compared to the second half.  No Mel, no Jessica, no Benjamin, no Laura: these four people that I live for didn’t even start arriving until the halfway mark, and three of them only showed up in the last quarter!  28-year-old me didn’t only had the vaguest inkling of how great the next 10 years could be, and 18-year-old me had no idea whatsoever.  As per usual.

I turned 38 yesterday.  I’m older.  And I’m slower.  And I’m heavier.  

And I’m incredibly grateful. 

View high resolution
View high resolution
My new “Go Home” Home Screen. (I now find myself locking/unlocking my phone three or four times per minute) View high resolution

My new “Go Home” Home Screen.

(I now find myself locking/unlocking my phone three or four times per minute)

Sitting on my bed at 11pm, using an App I downloaded from the App Store to post a screenshot to Tumblr of a just-released biography that effortlessly, wirelessly and automatically downloaded to this iPad via iCloud after I purchased it with a single click on my iPhone while walking to the car after work, having just learned of it’s release on iBooks - an hour earlier - on the other side of the world. Every part of that sentence - every part of this experience - makes me smile. I wonder when I’ll stop being amazed by - and grateful for - all that this man made possible? When I’ll take all of this - and the Mac and whatever follows - for granted? One day, maybe, but it sure won’t be any time soon.  View high resolution

Sitting on my bed at 11pm, using an App I downloaded from the App Store to post a screenshot to Tumblr of a just-released biography that effortlessly, wirelessly and automatically downloaded to this iPad via iCloud after I purchased it with a single click on my iPhone while walking to the car after work, having just learned of it’s release on iBooks - an hour earlier - on the other side of the world. Every part of that sentence - every part of this experience - makes me smile.

I wonder when I’ll stop being amazed by - and grateful for - all that this man made possible? When I’ll take all of this - and the Mac and whatever follows - for granted? One day, maybe, but it sure won’t be any time soon. 

Thanks so much, Steve.  View high resolution

Thanks so much, Steve. 

Image from my forthcoming book, Wonderful People That I Totally Don’t Deserve, Volume XXVII View high resolution

Image from my forthcoming book, Wonderful People That I Totally Don’t Deserve, Volume XXVII

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When I finally get my thoughts collected, and can put together something that doesn’t come across as either saccharine and insincere or creepily effusive, I will write to Mr Mann and thank him.  I’ll thank him not just for this Back To Work podcast - though it is indeed great and he and Dan Benjamin should be proud of what they’ve put together - but for so much more.

Merlin is far-and-away the person that I most admire and respect across the whole Internet and he’s involved in an astonishingly-high percentage of the things that I most enjoy. From the MacBreak Weekly’s where I first encountered him several years ago (where he and Andy brought/bring so much fun, wit and intelligence even to the driest discussions about OLED shipments), through inspired pieces like The Noises Rest, the hilarious You Look Nice Today podcasts, to his Twitter feed and this Tumblr of course.  

While it’s his fantastic sense of humour that struck me first, it’s his honest, reflective, challenging, encouraging posts about creativity and doubt and fear and excuses and distraction and hard-work that set him apart.  I love that he is a talented, creative guy with a young family who is working it all out very publicly, not a guy with a dogmatic public mantra hiding private doubts.  As much as we don’t ever “know” anyone else on the Internet - at best, we’re all just showing heavily-edited parts of ourselves - I strongly suspect that Merlin Mann the internet persona is pretty close to Merlin Mann the husband and father and fellow Dora-The-Explorer-endurer. And I respect that so much.  

Part of the reason I’ve never written to him despite setting out to do so many times is that - with so many followers and ‘likes’ and ‘faves’ - my little note of appreciation seems pretty pointless and redundant, right?  But, on second thoughts, the fact that he’s now very well known and is an Internet Superstar doesn’t in any way diminish how much I personally appreciate him and what he gives of himself every day…and maybe he doesn’t actually hear an endless stream of thunderous praise like I assume he does.    

So thank you, Merlin: I’m really grateful.

merlin:

That’s my favorite (non-useful) 105 seconds in the latest episode of Back to Work.

…

So, yeah. I’ll be talking about this new show a lot. Because it’s my new thing. And, because a person doesn’t get the chance to do that many things that feel special.

I totally understand if you are now or soon will be sick of hearing about this. Because you will certainly not be alone. But—understand this though I do—and, per half of the point of this entire latest episode, I don’t have a lot of control over what anyone else thinks or does or expects. Which I’m actually kind of strangely grateful for.

Thing is: as immodest as I may sometimes seem, I don’t actually love every single thing I make. Not by a long shot. Not by a longity long long long McLongLong shot.

But, I do really love this. And, I really hope you do too.

(Reblogged from merlin)

Our Sydney trip, in just under 4 minutes.

I am blessed - rather inexplicably - with such a beautiful family.

Grateful

So, today I:

• woke up by myself in a strange city (no kids crawled into the into the bed this morning, but I woke up at the same time as if they had) • walked into Parramatta • took a ferry to Circular Quay • walked around and over Sydney Harbour Bridge • had Doyles chips for lunch • sat on the steps of the Opera House • trekked through the Botanic Gardens • went to a photo exhibition at the State Library • walked to the fountain in Hyde Park • watched old men play chess • browsed the 3 storey Apple store in George St • took 674 photos/videos on my new camera • took a further dozen photos for pairs of strangers who were otherwise taking it in turns to take photos of each other in front of Sydney landmarks • took the ferry back to Parramatta • walked back to the hotel • talked to Mel, Jessica & Benjamin on the phone (they’d had lunch with my Nan at McDonalds, and are off to see Toy Story 3 again soon) • spent an hour setting up my production equipment, recharging batteries, clearing cards, testing follow focus and monitoring, and getting ready for tomorrow’s first big day.

That I’m in Sydney on my own for the next 12 days and with $16,000 of production equipment in my hotel room hasn’t stopped feeling surreal, and I presume it will only really make feel real at 7:30 tomorrow. My first paid production job. From a major multinational. Who sought me out for the job based only on a video I made - with no money and for no pay - and have already started talking about further work after this project. It’s been a bizarre few weeks of preparing project plans, submitting estimates, sourcing equipment from around the world, setting up a business, booking accommodation, driving for 10 hours yesterday etc - all for a project that fell in my lap and has nothing whatsoever to do with my day job (at which I am about to clock up a ridiculous 20 years service this coming Wednesday.).

I am very humbled. And excited. And bemused. And (a little) anxious. But mostly I’m grateful. Incredibly grateful.