A few years ago I felt I was stagnating. I didn’t feel lazy or idle, in fact quite the opposite. I was busy leading a full time change management project, training for a 160km cycle race and undertaking (or at least trying to) a heap of other commitments. So it wasn’t about feeling underutilised. I would have struggled to take on more. 

Sure I felt active but when I really thought about how I spent each day, I realised I was really treading water. Doing the same things that I had enjoyed five years previously – admittedly different subject matter but essentially little change  . . . I was in my comfort zone. Doing things I knew and understood. Day after day. I felt that if I took no assertive action to change things, my life would roll on and in five years-time, I would find myself in exactly the same place.

I realised what had really gone missing was my creative mojo . . .

It was about this time I heard of a new system to boost creativity – developed by Julia Cameron called “The Artists Way”. Actually it wasn’t so new, the book being written back in 1992. Originally turned down by a book publisher, Julia Cameron published the book herself – typing, photocopying and selling through a local bookstore. It has now sold millions of copies worldwide and is in the top one hundred self-help books of all time. Well how about that for believing in yourself?

The book contains instructions and assistance to run your own personal 12 week course – designed to reawaken your creative talent. Identifying and dealing with the blockages we all have that get in the way of being heart thumpingly creative. Elizabeth Gilbert apparently said that without the Artists Way there would have been no “Eat Pray, Love”. Crikey – I think the tourism industry in Ubud, Bali also owe Julia Cameron a beer or two in that case . . .

So what did I learn? Well I learnt to put aside my fear that I couldn’t do stuff. Letting perfection get in the way of just giving something a go. I love this quote from Julia Cameron . . 

“I have learned, as a rule of thumb, never to ask whether you can do something. Say, instead, that you are doing it. Then fasten your seatbelt. The most remarkable things follow.”

But perhaps my biggest breakthrough was to unblock my hesitancy in writing. My habit of creating a sentence, re-reading it, correcting, changing, writing the next sentence re-reading, correcting . . . and so on. One of the daily exercises, and I mean every day, was journal writing. You are required to write (and I mean handwrite) three pages every morning, as soon as you awake. 

The way you do that is to pick up a pen and just write whatever comes into your mind. If you don’t know what to say you simply write “I don’t know what to say” and keep repeating that until inspiration takes over. The writing is for you alone, not be shared with anyone, which I think also helps keep the words flowing from your pen – knowing there will be no external critics or anyone to impress.
 
Well after three months it sure cured my writers block – I find I now write more naturally and with a flow that better connects my thoughts and ideas. In short, I now found myself enjoying an exercise I had previously anguished over.
 
If you find yourself in a creative slump, think about giving the Artists Way a go – it may be the cheapest three month course you have even undertaken – and just possibly the most powerful.

Two years ago my wife and I gave up our jobs, rented our house out in Wellington and took off for a year of adventure – starting in Australia and heading around the world as far as India. We tend to travel in a relaxed way - spending time in one spot, getting to know the area and the locals, watching the world go by over coffee cups. And to support our chill lifestyle on the road we travelled light – for 12 months I existed on five t-shirts, two pairs of trousers, one pair of shoes and jandals, toiletries, a laptop, camera and a few other bits and pieces. 18 kilograms, tops. 

It got me thinking about all the stuff in our house we had packed up and waiting for us on our return. The boxes of stuff in the attic, possessions in the garage, tools, kitchen utensils, pictures, furniture. Did we really need it all, and why did we buy it in the first place?

Being and feeling happy is important to me. I guess for a lot of other people too. But what does happiness mean, how do we get it and how do we know if we have got there . . . ? I went through a lengthy stage in my life searching for happiness and doing that by, among other things, trying new experiences and buying stuff. Books, “finding myself” trips, listening to podcasts, exercise, a new bike (or two). I worked really hard on myself, but somehow it just didn’t seem to be enough.

I realised that my search had progressed externally – looking for answers in the world around me. I was surrounded by information. It was sometimes too much - I felt disempowered and wondered when or how I was final going to achieve my goal of true happiness. I felt I was an intelligent person, kind, compassionate and a hard worker. So maybe I just needed to work harder . . . ?

My 12 months away of course taught me something, even if it took me a while to realise. With all my possessions stored on a pack on my back I had abundance. I of course had a hotel roof over my head each night and enough money to feed and live day-to-day – but I didn’t need a houseful of stuff to feel happy. Aside from revelling in my new minimalist lifestyle, I learnt:

• To say yes more often: During my year of saying yes I found myself doing and enjoying things that previously would have scared me.
• It feels great to feel calm: I set out to give yoga more of a go on our trip, and I now definitely feel a calmer person. I feel, notice things and listen better than I used to and my sleeps have improved.
• To take my time: I enjoyed things more when we set down roots in a place, observed the local life and generally blended into to the neighbourhood. Tourism, for me, shouldn't be about “ticking” off sights and experiences . . .

​But perhaps the most important thing I learned is to start looking internally, rather than externally for happiness. And to realise that I am already a good person, kind and happy – and that life should really be about applying those simple qualities to my life. And to realise that I have always had and always will have . . . enough.

Blue Zones are regions in the world where people live much longer than average and explored by Dan Buettner, author of “The Blue Zones: Lessons for Living Longer from the People Who've Lived the Longest”.

Five regions are identified – Sardinia, the islands of Okinawa in Japan, Lomá Linda in Californian, the Nicoya Peninsula in Costa Rica and Icaria in Greece. People identified in these regions somehow exhibit a fraction of the diseases that kill other people and generally live long healthy lives. Being a centenarian is no outlier in these communities.

So what everyone wants to know is – what’s their secret . . . What are these people doing that the average American who lives until 78 or British person who lives until 81 is missing?

Dan Buettner suggests it comes down to these nine characteristics:

​1. Moving: these people don’t necessarily go to the gym, but they live a life of constant activity. Gardening, house-keeping , walking rather than driving.

2. Purpose: Knowing why they wake up in the morning – creating a sense of meaning in their lives. Which reminds me of a quote from Winston Churchill: “It’s not enough to have lived. We should be determined to live for something.”

3. Less stress: Stress can have a serious effect on your brain – changing its structure and killing off cells. Depression, anxiety, chronic pain and decreased immune function can all be caused or exacerbated by stress. Blue zone communities have less stress – they take naps, pray or have happy hours.

4. Eating less: Blue zone people tend to eat less, recognise that 80% full is enough and have lighter meals in the evening. The internet is overloaded with articles on how eating a large meal at night can overload your digestive system. And that in turn contributes to not getting adequate rest through the night, thereby slowing your body physically and mentally the next day.

5. Plant based diets: Meat is eaten far less often by blue zone communities. Instead, a plant-based diet is more common – vegetables, fruits, nuts, legumes. If you eat meat, the rule of thumb says the meat portion of your meal should be able to fit comfortably on the palm of your hand.

​6. A glass of wine: Moderate drinkers outlive non-drinkers in blue zone communities. One to two glasses a day and no binging.

7. Connection: All but five of the 263 centenarians interviewed by Dan Buettner’s team attend faith-based services – which faith doesn’t seem to matter. 

8. Putting families first: Elderly parents tend to live nearby or in the family home, divorce is less common and children are loved and nurtured.

9. Belonging: Blue zone communities are essentially groups of supporting people who live similar lifestyles. Shaping those around them – living by example.

All simple stuff that demonstrates that wealth doesn’t matter as much as connection, that over-eating and stress is killing us and that love for our family and having a purpose in life is core to our happiness and longevity – more than popping vitamins and pumping iron. Oh . .  and that there isn’t much wrong with a glass of wine or two! 

​I’m currently working for Tūhoe, one of New Zealand’s Maori iwi (tribe). Their ancestral home is Te Urewera in the eastern North Island, a place of magical natural beauty – from towering cliffs to fast flowing rivers and which includes the stunning Lake Waikaremoana. They are sometimes referred to as Nga Tamariki o te Kohu ("the children of the mist").

Their recent settlement with the Government included legislation which created legal personhood for Te Urewera. That sort of means that nobody owns the place, which now has all the rights of a legal person. Importantly for Tūhoe, the legislation enshrines the reconnection of Tūhoe people with Te Urewera. 

Tūhoe people are, in my view, born conservationists. They believe the land is their mother and have declared war on the beliefs of humans that land should be thought of as property to be owned. “You wouldn’t treat your mother that way” is a common expression when faced with littering tourists. Their strategy is not about managing land – but managing people, for the benefit of the land.

​Buddhists believe in the concept of samsara – an endless cycle of birth, death and rebirth. Buddha taught that all living beings have, at some stage, been our mother in the past. And if we regard all living beings in that context, it becomes easy to develop feelings of love and compassion for them. 

Compassion is a big thing for Buddhist people – the state of mind that wishes each being to be separated from suffering. Getting over our self-cherishing and learning to wholeheartedly cherish others is the basis of Gesh Kelsang Gyatso’s book “The New Eight Steps to Happiness”. 

The book postulates that everyone wants to be happy and nobody wants to suffer – but understanding what is the real cause of happiness and suffering can be difficult. Turning from an external view of the world (where for instance possessions and our home might bring us temporary joy) to an internal view is key. Turning our self-centred minds into positive minds of unconditional love and compassion for others is a Buddhist ideal of happiness.

The concept of everyone being formerly your mother is therefore an important one, as it helps us manage our feelings of negativity, resentment or dislike to those we don’t seem to get on with. It’s easy to be compassionate to those you like – but to love your enemies is an important step towards real happiness.

I get energy by following through and competing a task I have committed to. Strangely, it's often not about the result, but more about the discipline I used to tackle and finish something. It makes me feel good – and conversely, the inertia created by putting something off is an incredible energy thief, and strongly demotivating. 

So why is it so hard for many of us to start and finish tasks? And why is it that we focus on checking our emails and Facebook page, tidy the room, wash the dishes – in fact anything except actually start what we set out to accomplish? If we get energy and feel good from completing something, why aren’t we doing just that . . . ?

Procrastinators tend to think in the short term – and so tend to avoid tasks that are immediately unappealing, even though the completion of those tasks may bring significant future benefits. They also tend to be less into planning – which doesn’t mean they can’t plan, just that they don’t like it. 

There may also be a physiological reason why some of some of us tend to procrastinate more than others, and that relates to the release of dopamine (a neurotransmitter that regulates behaviour). There is a gene that, depending on which version we have, determines our baseline levels of dopamine. If we have low levels, it is often only stress that can boost the release of extra dopamine – which might help explain why procrastinators often need to leave things until just before a deadline when the stress kicks in . . .

I have just read an article entitled “How to stop procrastinating by using the two-minute rule”. The idea behind the rule, as outlined in the book Atomic Habits by James Clear, is that nearly every habit can be scaled down into a two-minute version. It’s all about starting a habit – and so if you want to do some yoga, your strategy is to get out your mat and lay it out on the floor. Or if your aim is to run five km, your strategy is to put your running gear on. 

The idea is that you can’t manufacture a perfect result from the start – the key is to show up. By making the first two minutes easy, it becomes a ritual and from there it’s all much easier. I mean what are you going to do when you are in your running gear, apart from going for a run . . .

I like this quote by Norman Vincent Peale: “The really happy people are those who have broken the chains of procrastination, those who find satisfaction in doing the job at hand. They’re full of eagerness, zest, productivity. You can be, too.”

A cup half full or half empty . . . A rainy day to snuggle inside or a rainy day to frustrate your plans . . . feedback which helps you grow or feedback that leaves you upset . . . ?

Humans have a leaning towards negativity. Our news media know that - and to sell space they broadcast stuff about corruption, crime, hate, scandal . . . Maybe it’s in our evolutionary genes where not so long ago, our survival depended on being able to react quickly to danger. But whatever the reason, bad news sells because we demand it.

Positivity is a choice we all have. And we have the power to make that choice many times each day. There have been many studies on the health effects of positive thinking. In short - if you are an optimistic person you are more likely to have greater resistance to things like the common cold, reduced risk of death from heart attack, better ability to deal with stress and depression and . . . you are likely to live longer.

So, you can see the obvious dilemma . . .  how to be naturally positive when human nature is to veer on the negative side. And so it’s not something that will come naturally – and like all things that are good for us, it requires conscious effort on our part.

You may have heard about “The Secret” which is simply the “law of attraction.” I don't like the marketing behind this concept – it’s overbearingly cringy (in my humble opinion), but the concept is sound. Essentially, whatever consumes your thoughts is what you will eventually get in life. 

You become what you think. Applying this concept means that you simply focus on what you want, and not what you don’t want. Because if you were to do the latter – the latter is what you will attract. 

Try it . . . and see whether the concept works for you.

Yesterday ​I was listening to an interview with Sadhguru. Sadhguru is an Indian yogi who founded the Isha foundation – offering yoga programmes around the world. He is a powerful speaker and has addressed audiences at the United Nations, the World Economic Forum and, of course, TED.

The interviewer asked the question – what should we do to be blissful, happy and aware? 

The answer was simple. We aren’t going to be here forever. So don’t take things for granted. Of all the people who went to bed last night, some didn’t wake up. But we did. And isn’t that wonderful . . . and isn’t this a fantastic day.

So many of us live with the idea that we are immortal. Or put another way, we aren’t conscious of our mortality. Because if we were, how would we have time to fight with somebody, to waste our time doing things that serve us little purpose, to think and act in a negative way  . . . ?

The point of the answer was not to bring us down by reminding ourselves that someday we will die. But rather to allow us to become more conscious of our mortality, and thereby live a life that helps us become the people we want to be. Life is a brief happening – so embrace this moment – right now.

It’s natural to think of ourselves as small in terms of the world we live in. One person among billions. One voice. One set of thoughts. Insignificant when you consider the stuff going on around us.

But what if that is just a thought . . . a self-limiting belief that, far from being humble and realistic is actually holding you back from being the person you want to be. Someone who could, in fact, help change the world . . . 

What about the simple act of sitting on a bus? Well that’s exactly what Rosa Parks did in Montgomery Alabama when she refused an order from the driver to relinquish her seat for a white passenger who was standing. That incident sparked a new consciousness in America and Rosa Parks became an international icon of opposition to racial prejudice. For sitting on a bus . . 

Whether it’s changing the world on a grand scale like Rosa Parks or changing the world in terms of the immediate environment we live in – it is in all of us to make that happen. And here is how . . .

One: Recognise and confront your fear. 

You may not think you are fearful. But yes - we all have it to some degree. It's endemic in our society – sometimes inherited from our childhood, from society, our friends, the media . . . Well . . . you are worthy. You are important. And there is no reason at all why your views and ideas don’t have a right to be aired.

Two: Avoid those who bring you down. 

You know who they are. Those around you who subtly take the carpet from under your feet. Who criticise without providing a helpful alternative. Who smile and laugh while at the same time make you feel less important and less worthy. Instead, seek out those who you aspire to be – who encourage and love you no matter what. Those who genuinely want the best for you.

Three: Research and start talking about what you feel. 

What you really feel. Not because you are comfortable that people will agree with you, but because it’s coming from your soul. Talk from knowledge. Research your topic. Read and understand the different points of view. And above all – concentrate on and learn the facts.

Four: Notice those who don’t agree with you and be ok with that. 

There will always be people who disagree. That’s just like the sun coming up in the morning. They have a view and they are entitled to it – but it doesn’t affect you. You don’t have to fight them, and you don’t have to win anything. It’s not a competition and in many cases there may be elements of their argument you agree with. And that means you are learning.

Five: Reach out to others that share your view. 

There is strength and support out there which is available for you to tap into. To give you confidence, a sense of self-worth, feeling proud and grounded.

Six: Take action and be brave. 

Make a list of all the actions you could take. Leave nothing out, even if you don’t feel it’s something you would be comfortable with right now – just write them all down. Make an appointment to meet and talk with someone who could help you make a difference. Write a blog. Share your views on social media. Offer to deliver a talk for a local group. Make a plan and start right now – today . . .

None of these steps may seem particularly hard. And like so much in life things aren’t hard, but they are hard to start – to make a beginning – to take that first step. Anne Frank’s quote is so full of optimism – isn’t it indeed wonderful that that we don’t need to wait a single moment before starting to improve the world . . .

​We have choices in life. We can call a cup half full or half empty. We experience a rainy day and feel down that its wet or uplifted at the thought of being snug and cosy inside. We can see a person's bad points or their good ones . . .

It’s easy sometimes to get caught up in our quest to become the person we want to be. To achieve. To accomplish. To gain. But unless we appreciate and give thanks for where we are right now, we run the risk of always chasing. Planning and working to get better, fitter, stronger, wealthier . . .

Today I had an awesome day. I’m grateful that the sun was out. I’m grateful that I have the fitness to bike for five km to go for a swim. I’m grateful for the beautiful lake I swam in. I’m grateful that my washing was drying while I was out swimming and that I have a washing machine at all.

These may seem small things, but I need to remember how many people in the world do not have the opportunities and resources that I have. And while I have dreams – I also love and am grateful for the step-by-step journey I am taking . . .

​

The story behind this quote is about sugar. Gandhi was once asked by a woman to talk to her son about cutting back on sugar. He asked them to come back in two weeks time, at which time he talked to the boy and made an agreement. In answer to the mother's question - "why could you not talk to my son at the start?" Gandhi replied that he wasn't able to talk to the boy until he had first tried making that change himself.

We are so quick to judge. To have an opinion. To demand change. To expect our leaders, our managers, our Government to be responsible for making change happen. And fast. 

But what if we simply lived the change we want to see in the world? And by our actions, someone notices and copies. And then someone copies them - and so on and so on . . . Take the challenge - think of something you want to change - and quietly go about making that change happen in your own life, thoughts and actions. And just notice what happens . . . !

With current political headlines on how the President of the USA reacts to those who he disagrees with, I was drawn to Mahatma Gandhi's thoughts on showing compassion and friendship to your enemies. 

It is easy enough to be friendly to one's friends. But to befriend the one who regards himself as your enemy is the quintessence of true religion. The other is mere business.

It's certainly true for me. I find it hard to instinctively feel any kind of empathy for those who I dislike. I find the views of people who are racist to be abhorrent for example. Or those who are violent, rude, obnoxious . . . Yep its hard to feel anything warm for people like that.

But here are some more thoughts on that . . .

1. Is that person causing or encouraging me to have similar traits? Umm . . . no.
2. Is the way I am feeling about that person causing me pleasure or pain? Well it's not the former.
3. Why is this person exhibiting this behaviour? What has happened in their life? What troubles and anguish have they gone through and how are they feeling? Hmmm . . .
4. If I was in that other person's shoes, what would I be feeling, saying, thinking, doing . . . ? Good question . . .

Cultivating compassion for those we don't like is maybe one of the hardest things, but also the most liberating. Putting yourself into someone else's shoes. Understanding things from their perspective. Becoming aware that people who exhibit qualities we don't like may in fact be crying out for help. And above all, being thankful for the teachings that person has given us.

Go on . . . try it . . . starting with just one "enemy" . . . right now.

I am sitting here listening to a mantra. A mantra is like a repetitive chant, and this one is set to music. It's sort of chill while also a little upbeat, if that makes sense. The words are simple - “I am” – again and again. And as I listen and think I have decided to be instinctive and fill in the missing bit.

So who am I? 

Well there is who I am right now and then there is who I want to be. I think of those two stages as being very different, particularly while I’m not feeling particularly good at the moment. Maybe that’s why I am putting pen to paper. 

So being honest and being real about how I am right now . . . Well I’m not at the depths of despair. In fact my life might seem pretty good. I’m travelling for a few months with my wife. I have left a good job behind and stand a reasonable chance of being employed there again on my return. I am in the opposite hemisphere to my home, which means two summers in a row. We have experienced sights, sounds and experiences – many of them magical. But at my core I’m not so good.

What I feel is unfulfilled and trapped. I am a dreamer – always thinking of stuff like designing a home, writing something amazing, being a coach, an environmentalist, a motivator. And then there is my everyday life which for some reason always seems to present blockages. Practical things, stuff people say, my own self-doubts, fear and negativity. I feel like life, my life with all its potential gloriousness, is passing me by.

I feel a bit like that doctor who is painstaking when assessing their patient’s needs but lax on their own health. The builder who lives in a forever unfinished house, the plumber whose toilet doesn’t work . . . If I want to be a person who can help people then the first person I need to help is myself. 

Starting today . . . 

 We all like to label ourselves. And we all definitely like to label others. It’s comforting, in the same way we might organise our pantry or medicine cabinet. We know for instance which friend to go to for advice, who to get a reality check from or where to simply get a hug.

We like to think of ourselves and others as being a “something” person. Kind, diligent, industrious – or maybe lazy, self-centred or impatient. These labels may have become attached to us as a result of an incident. Like when you went wild at a party – or spoke out against something wrong or simply got angry. And then they become imbedded - and just maybe we subconsciously model our lives on the label we have inherited . . .

And then confirmation bias sets in, where we live our lives and interact with others under a set of expectations. That allows us to make quicker decisions, avoid harm and generally live our lives more efficiently. But what if that label is simply misleading and possibly (and probably unintentionally) harming? And, more importantly, what can we do about it . . . ?

Maybe the first step to understanding others is to first understand ourselves with a fresh set of eyes. Carl Jung was an early 20th century psychotherapist and psychiatrist who created the field of analytical psychology. He said . . .

"Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate"

​And with that in mind, here are some useful (and free) sources to help you discover (or rediscover) your personality. They are all survey type models, and with any survey they only work if you are honest in how you answer. 

Neris Personality Test
Take the “Neris” free personality test at https://www.16personalities.com/. It’s based on a well-regarded model called Myer’s Briggs which in turn is based on the thinking of Carl Jung (quoted earlier in this article). The Neris test expands on the Myers Briggs thinking and incorporates what is known as the Big Five Personality Traits.

By taking this test you can find out if you are an architect (an imaginative and strategic thinker with a plan for everything), a mediator (kind, altruistic and always willing to help a good cause) or one 14 other personality types.

The Riso-Hudson Enneagram Type Indicator (RHETI)
An enneagram defines nine personality types (sometimes called "enneatypes"), which are represented by the points of a geometric figure which indicate connections between the types.

Basically you have to take the test to find out which one of the nine personality types you are. Are you a reformer (rational and idealistic), an artist (intuitive and reserved) or a peacemaker (easy going and accommodating)? Go to https://www.9types.com/rheti/index.php for a free sampler where you can complete 36 out of the 144 questions. For the full test go to https://www.enneagraminstitute.com/ where you will be charged a relatively small amount.

Feeling these two tests haven’t quite hit the mark? Then try the Oxford Happiness Questionnaire.  It was developed by Michael Argyle and Peter Hills of Oxford Brookes University, and originally published in 2002. If are interested in the scholarly paper go here where you will gain some understanding how the survey was developed. If however you are after a more user friendly version, the UK Guardian has produced one here that you can answer and immediately generate your score.

When taking any of these tests, you need to:

• Set aside some time when you won’t be distracted;
• Complete all the questions;
• Try to avoid neutral answers;
• Be honest – put down what you honestly feel to be true, not what you would like others to see you as; and
• Value being instinctive over being analytical when thinking about your answers – this will help you not to get stuck.

When you have your results, it might be interesting to ask yourself how you feel. Was there anything in the results that surprised you? Are you disappointed? Pleasantly surprised? And again – why . . . ? 

​And finally – if you have taken the test and self-reflected on what you have learned, congratulations. Understanding what makes us tick is vital to making positive change. It’s tempting I know to jump to the action side of things. But until you really understand how you are feeling now, designing and working towards a “future you” risks missing something fundamentally important.

Not so long ago my wife and I departed New Zealand’s capital city, Wellington, for Whakatane – a small town in the Eastern Bay of Plenty, home to around 35,000 people. I was being transferred temporarily for my job at the Department of Conservation. My new temporary role was to work with one of New Zealand’s largest iwis, Tūhoe, whose people had felt disconnected from their homeland for around 150 years  but who now had the opportunity to purse a responsibility-based re-connection on the back of a settlement agreement with the Crown.

I had always thought of New Zealand as friendly place. I have lived and worked overseas for a number of years in London, Amsterdam and Sydney. None of those places I would have characterised as un-friendly, however it’s not until you arrive back in New Zealand and receive a cheery greeting from a shop assistant at Auckland airport, that you realise what it’s like for someone to ask you how you are – and be genuinely interested in the answer.

And so, our impending extended trip to Whakatane posed no real concerns for me about not being welcomed into the community as after all, this was just another part of New Zealand, right!? As I sit now nearing the end of our six month stay, I have been reflecting on a number of things, including how genuinely nice it is to live and work in a small town. 

This morning I drove into the town centre from our rented place on Ohope Beach (I know – lucky . . . !) to do a few errands. First the bike shop where the lady remembered my wife’s name from her call the previous day and we had a general chat about how hot it has been lately and about the bike business in general. Then I drove to my favourite café for a coffee and eggs. Crossing the road to the cafe from where I parked the car involved negotiating almost every driver desperate to stop, let me cross and give me a thumbs up. A chat at the café with the owner and then a walk back to my car encountering a “good morning” from lady putting out table outside the Sri Lankan restaurant. My last stop was a quick visit to the supermarket, exchanging a “kia ora” with a heavily tattooed Maori gentlemen getting out of his car.

And that is pretty much a typical day in Whakatane. Different in a way from my home in Wellington where people are certainly not unfriendly, but don’t seem to show anywhere near the genuine bonhomie and hospitality that I have experienced in this little Bay of Plenty town.  

Now I know that some people reading this may point to statistics such as the Eastern Bay of Plenty’s growing P problem and consider this piece overly positive. I’m not sure I have a good answer to that, other than I can just comment on my own experiences – what I see, hear and feel in this awesome little place.

So, is it just Whakatane that is kind of cool, or is what I have experienced evidence of small towns being generally happier places than bigger cities? Well it’s the latter if you consider recent research done by sociologist Adam Okulicz-Kozaryn which suggests that city dwellers in the US are reportedly less happy with their lives. Interestingly though, the research indicates millennials seem to have the opposite point of view which I guess sounds logical if I remember my own preferences on city vs country when I was at my “millennial” age …!
​
All I can say is that I have loved my short visit to Whakatane. I feel more relaxed and at home in this friendly place. Now I have to think about exporting this feeling back to my city way of life . . .

I listened to a podcast today – on the subject of being right. Or, more correctly, on the subject of believing you are right. And there is a big difference between the two.

The podcast by the way was a Ted Talk by Julia Galef – “Why you think you’re right even if you’re wrong”. Listen to it if you can.

We are all plagued by this affliction – if we are really honest. Sport springs to mind as a good example. If my favourite team are wrongly penalised by the referee, I find myself instantly uptight – questioning the decision and looking for a way that I can feel its just plain wrong, or unfair . . . If the opposing team incur a similar wrongful penalty-call things are different, of course. “Get on with the game – suck it up – the ref probably missed something earlier so it’s all evened out . . .”

In the late nineteenth century, a French army officer called Alfred Dreyfus was convicted of spying and passing classified information to Germany. In 1894 he was sentenced to life imprisonment on Devils Island, off the coast of French Guiana. 

The problem though was there was no obvious evidence pointing to Dreyfus’s guilt, other than the fact that he was one of the only, if not the only, Jewish officer in the French army at the time. The series of events that followed suspicion, turning to arrest and incarceration was a sobering example of belief in being right, even though evidence suggested otherwise. Even when the case was questioned and retried, there was still enough belief in Dreyfus’s guilt to disallow the conviction to be overturned. It was only through public pressure that Dreyfus was exonerated 11 years later. 

So why do we insist on continuing to believe we are right, even though the facts and evidence often don’t support our opinion? 

Perhaps the answer lies in our own prejudices and our ego that prevents us overcoming those prejudices. It could certainly be imagined that prejudice might have played some part in the conviction of the Jewish Alfred Dreyfus, and ego playing a part in the refusal of authorities at the time to back down despite overwhelming evidence of his innocence. As for me and my sport watching – yes guilty as charged – even though it pains me to admit it.

I am learning to step back, examine my thoughts and question whether I am creating opinions out of evidence and fairness or from place of pre-conceived ideas. Ideas built up from listening to my parents, my friends, my family and in the busy social media world that I dabble in – probably too often. And in doing so I am finding myself a happier person – less wound up by notions of injustice and more enjoying the honest spectacle of the world around me. With all its faults and imperfections. 

And realising that by becoming the observer I am starting to see the world less in terms of black and white – but more the beautiful, intriguing and frustratingly wonderful grey . . .

One year ago I was sitting at my kitchen table at our house in Seatoun, Wellington. In front of me were a pile of bills and correspondence to deal with – not such a bad job on a wet Saturday afternoon, but not exactly heart pumping. One more day off, I thought, before work on Monday at the New Zealand Government’s Department of Conservation. A pretty good job – interesting, meaningful and full of good people doing things that matter. 

All in all I felt my life was pretty peachy. I had a lot to be grateful for. Enough money, without being rich. Healthy (well most of the time). Two amazing daughters and a solid and deep relationship with my wife of 25 years. Decent house, good friends . . . not much to complain about really.

Except something was definitely missing. My life felt a little bit “the same”. I woke up and (when I wasn’t on my four week holiday each year) went to work, came home – a beer, chat, dinner, and bed. I know – I am generalising hugely and there were of course weekends – but that’s what I felt like. Happy on the outside, but a little unfulfilled on the inside.

​My wife had, for a long time, been talking about taking some serious time off. A year of travelling – how about it!? Well if I am honest I did try to sound keen but really I was scared. A whole year . . . how would that work, what about our house and my job, what would we do, where would we go, where would the money come from . . . ?

And that is a great example of the negative “chatter” which goes on in all our heads. All the reasons why something can’t work and why its OK to stay in our safe and known zones . . . 

Steve Taylor, in an excellent article in Psychology Today, talks about thought chatter as creating a constant disturbance within us. Taylor says “Perhaps the biggest problem with thought-chatter though is that it’s often tinged with negativity. Thoughts about the future are tinged with worry and anxiety, thoughts about the past are tinged with regret or bitterness and thoughts about your present life situation are tinged with dissatisfaction.”

​The only way to combat the negative thought chatter, in my view anyway, is not to give in to it. Instead of thinking why things can’t work, turn your mind to how they can. We can rent the house out – it’s a good rental market at the moment and that will give us an income. It’s about time for a change in job and this will force me into thinking differently. It will work and will be great.

​And so here we are, twelve months on, having just had Christmas day in Bariloche in the Lake District of Argentina. We have hung out in Australia, Indonesia, Sri Lanka, the Netherlands, Scotland, Spain, Portugal, Peru and Chile. We have swam in the beautiful beach coves of Ibiza, meditated on the top of Machu Picchu, tramped in Scotland, detoxed in Sri Lanka, practiced yoga in Portugal and learned Spanish in Peru. Our daughters have joined us for parts of the journey and we have kept a regular blog.

I am so happy we made the decision to take this time off. By using the income from renting our house and staying in simple, but cosy, places we haven’t spent nearly as much as I thought we would have (and by the way we met heaps of people who managed to travel and live for next to nothing). Instead of waiting until we retired to see the world, we are experiencing travel while in our prime. We have learned so much about the world we live in – people, practices and cultures. 

​I think of our time off as one of the best investments we have ever made. And, for me, the investment is still going as if I am already thinking about how I will apply what I have learned to my life back home in New Zealand at the end of this big adventure. I want this feeling to continue.

So my advice is that whenever somebody asks you something like “wouldn’t it be great if . . .”, try and ignore that negative chatter in your head and ask yourself how you can say “yes” rather than “no” or “maybe”.  You won’t always be in the position to drop everything and take off round the world – but just maybe you will . . .

Jo and I have put our life in New Zealand on hold and embarked on a year of adventure, to seek out what is truly meaningful out there in this big wide world. Cusco in Peru is our current home -  3,400m above sea level. As a comparative - New Zealand’s highest ski resort Turoa and Europe’s highest ski resort Val Thorens both sit at around 2,300m. So here we are sightseeing, eating and sleeping at above the level of the highest ski lifts of either of those two resorts. The altitude – headaches in the morning and a general feeling of lethargy, has affected us both but on our third morning here we are definitely improved. The key is to rest, hydrate, avoid alcohol (I know!) and drink the local coca tea.

Cusco, once of the capital of the Incan empire, is a busy little city with a population of around 400,000. In the historical centre where we are staying you could be forgiven for thinking the economy is in pretty good shape. There are signs of affluence in many of the restaurants, shops and buildings – and the place is full of tourists. But in reality there is much poverty.

​Which brings the amazing Jolanda van den Berg into the story. 21 years ago Jolanda came to Peru with no Spanish and little money but a desire to do something for the many children she had seen working and begging on the street during a trip to Cusco six months previously. We met and chatted with Jolanda at Cusco’s Niños Hotel, one that she had started for the benefit of the kids. 

She started in 1996 by renting a small room and offered two of the children, who roamed the Plaza de Armas, the opportunity to come and live with her. The condition was they stuck to the rules, which included daily chores. Two boys quickly became 12 in a five-bedroom house with one toilet and shower for everyone plus limited running water.

Funding initially came from family and friends in the Netherlands but it was never going to be enough. And so with little knowledge of the hospitality industry, Jolanda and her partner hit on the idea of starting a hotel – the objective being to become financially independent and for the boys to learn a trade. Out of the blue one large Dutch sponsor provided the funding and the Niños Hotel Meloc became a reality in 1998. That is where we are now staying and it is just the cosiest little hotel I think I have ever stayed in. There are no room numbers; instead all the rooms are named after the boys. 

​The program now looks after 600 children, incidentally not all of whom are homeless. Many rural families aren’t able to find decent education in their home villages and so they send their kids to Cusco in hopes of a better life. Many kids live together in these arrangements, receiving some financial support from their families but often supporting themselves through enterprises such as shoe shining and selling cards to tourists. The program feeds them three meals a day, six days a week. It provides shower facilities, medical and dental treatment and also sport – all aimed at not only keeping them healthy and well fed but raising their self-esteem. 

Jolanda van den Berg is just a gorgeous bundle of vibrant energy. She has the most sparkling eyes and if she has any regrets about her life over the last 21 years they are very well hidden. I think I’m a little bit in love (purely platonically of course!).

Her philosophy is that “there are no victims here”. She treats her relationship with the kids as a partnership – she gets just as much out of it as they do. The way you give is important . . . “giving has to be useful in the eyes of those who are receiving”, rather than satisfying ones well-meaning ego. That in turn has led her to continue to expand the hotel business (there are now three) and thereby rely less on sponsors, so many of whom want to be recognised and associated with a particular “gift”. Jolanda says she doesn’t need more refrigerators – it’s the money that is needed, given selflessly with no attachment.

If anyone is looking for somewhere very special to stay in Cusco, come to the Niño’s Hotel Meloc and see how one woman is sharing her life with some pretty special kids. It may just change your life . . . !

​I think I am a giving person. And I definitely get a kick out of doing something for others. Simple things like getting up early, doing the shopping and making breakfast for my family so they can get up, slide into their seat at the breakfast table, stretch and smile that lazy, luxurious way that says – “life’s pretty good”. Yep I get a kick out of that.

A recent study by the University of Zurich involved 50 participants who were promised a sum of money that they would receive in the next few weeks and were supposed to spend. Half of the study participants committed to spending the money on someone they knew while the other half committed to spending the money on themselves. The study concluded that generosity makes us happier, even if we are only a little generous. People who act solely out of self-interest are less happy. And even merely promising to be more generous is enough to trigger a change in our brains that makes us happier.

Well that makes sense . . . except that I have had this nagging feeling for a while that I haven’t been getting the same buzz out of giving that I used to. Are my acts of generosity really giving me energy, or taking it away . . . ?

There is a book out called “The Disease to Please”, written by Harriet Braiker, which explores our need to please and questions whether we are sometimes self harming ourselves by over-giving. Do we have an urge for approval, or a fear of confrontation that makes us create a persona of “niceness”? If I were really honest – I would have to say I do sneak into this category from time to time.

The key message is that it’s OK to put yourself first. Only be nurturing yourself, giving yourself the love and life that makes you happy, will you be ready and able to give to others in a meaningful way. It’s all about balance and maintaining those important energy levels. . . .

​Are you someone who thinks a lot about where you are heading, what you will be become, who you will be with, where you will live . . . ?

I do. I think about this sort of stuff all the time. And there is nothing fundamentally wrong with gazing out in time, contemplating what life will bring you. Except, when you forget about where you are actually at right now.

I am in the middle of reading “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coello. Buy it and read it. It’s amazing, having sold over 30 million copies worldwide (at least that was at the time my copy was printed) and translated into 63 languages. The story charts the travels of an Andalusian shepherd boy who learns about listening to his heart and fulfilling his destiny. 

One of the lessons this shepherd boy learns along the way comes from a camel driver who relates some advice he receives from a fortune-teller which goes like this . . .

​It’s a powerful message and made me physically sit up and think. About how my life sometimes feel as is though it’s passing me by, and that somehow it will all come together when I get to where I am headed.

And that’s my lesson for today. To make each day my eternity – to pay attention to what’s around me right now and to make of my life something special . . . one day at a time . . .

All my life I have worked. A “grafter” – that’s me. Focused, dependable, pretty well liked at work’ enjoying my job and the intellectual stimulation it provided. I liked the people I worked with and the sense of getting stuff done. And I had worked my way up to a senior position in our organisation – second tier and just maybe the next stop a chief executive.

So one day my wife said – how about we take off overseas for a year and have some fun . . .

​And I realized that actually – no I wasn’t really happy. In fact not happy at all. My life may have seemed pretty much OK to my friends and family. But not really to me. Not really . . .

And so after quite a while I did a brave thing. Very brave for me, and a little bit scary. I said Yes to my wife. Lets do it. And so I quit my job, put my life on hold and took a plunge. And now we are in the first week of our big adventurous year of travelling around the globe.

And finding happiness – maybe . . .