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 …!
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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 . . .

I promised myself to write regularly..... well that word regularly is about right. Every 3 or 4 months? In that sense I am doing well.... What is keeping me from writing more often then? Like once a week? Am I judging myself? I can't do it , no good at writing?

So tomorrow I am teaching my yoga class and just sent out an e-mail saying "it takes a conscious effort to notice what is going on in our mind and body without judgment or wishing it was any different." Mindfulness is a big word now a days and in this rushed society we sometimes ignore to notice our body and/or are not aware of our thoughts. We just keep going and are reacting in situations we later regret and think how could I have handled that one better?

In a nutshell yoga gives us the timeout for ourselves to reflect and become aware of our habitual patterns, either physical or thought patterns. We have learned by accumulating these thoughts and believe in them or by avoiding certain situations to survive and feel at ease the best we can. I was told as a teenager that I can't write, am bad at it so started to avoid writing altogether. I have never questioned that belief until now and feel quite uncomfortable as I am writing this down. But I know that breaking through those belief systems there might be something better for me out there... and anyway what is the worst that is going to happen if someone judges? Or judge myself?

I invite you to start observing your habitual patterns during your yoga practice and wonder why you resist a pose.... what is it you are uncomfortable with in daily life?
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If you would like to read more about this topic, there is good article on yoga international website, powers of observation.
https://yogainternational.com/artic…/…/powers-of-observation

The American author H Jackson Brown Jr once said “Don’t waste time waiting for inspiration. Begin, and inspiration will find you.”

Well that’s all very well. But if you are anything like me, the actual beginning part is actually really hard. Even when I sat down to write this blog . . . hmmmm maybe I will make myself a coffee before I start . . . now I’m making my coffee I should quickly clean the kitchen bench down . . .just noticed I’m almost out of cleaning spray so better add it to the shopping list, that wont take long . . .

And that’s indicative of a lot of things I do. Sure, all those things that distracted me are worthy of some sort of action. But they are all pebbles that should fit around the big rocks in my life – not the other way round. So I decided to research the subject of writer’s block. Is this common and what are the ways that people have found to overcome this phenomenon?

Wikipedia defines writers block as a condition, primarily associated with writing, in which an author loses the ability to produce new work or experiences a creative slowdown. The condition ranges in difficulty from coming up with original ideas to being unable to produce a work for years. 

As far as I could find out, writers block isn’t a medical diagnosis in itself. But some may exhibit writers’ block type symptoms as part of mental illness - such as anxiety of depression for instance.  And yes its common. Wikipedia lists authors F. Scott Fitzgerald and Joseph Mitchell, pop culture cartoonist Charles M. Schulz and British songwriter Adele as just some who have ben known to suffer from this affliction. 

1. Get an hourglass

I read that Dan Brown keeps an hourglass on his desk - every hour he takes mini-breaks to do some exercise. Others make a plan at the beginning of the day with times for writing and times for doing other stuff. One tip that apparently works . . . don’t make writing the first thing on your plan; instead do the thing that is nagging most in your brain first (like paying a bill that’s overdue).

2. Write gobbledegook

The Artists Way is a book, and course, all about bring creativity back into the lives of artists (or anyone for that matter). One of the core exercises for three months is to write 3 pages every morning. And as soon as you put pen to paper you must write. Write about anything. Write that “I don’t know what to write” seven times. Its amazing how the power of just writing, about anything, lubricates your inspiration and creativity . . .

3. Dress for the occasion

Roald Dahl climbed into his sleeping bag to begin writing. It was the “uniform” he associated with his craft. Into the sleeping bag – its writing time . . .

Another approach, try dressing up. Like it’s a job where you are meeting and working with people. Would you go to a job like that in your sweat pants and hoodie? Put on some decent clothes, brush your hair, check yourself out in the mirror. Writing is something you are serious about, so dress up for the start of your writing time.

4. Cut the internet connections

Disable your internet connection. Its just too distracting and way too tempting. That funny cats youtube video . . . really ? 

And another thing about electronics. Electromagnetic fields (EMFs) have been found to disrupt the natural energy flows in your body – affecting the nervous system and increasing stress. Insomnia, anxiety and depression have all ben linked to exposure to EMFs. Feng Shui thinking says leave electronics out of the bedroom. Now that isn't always easy with writing in this electronic age – just something to be aware of . . .

5. Quit

No not quit permanently. Quit the situation or the place for a while. Find a new and energising place to be creative. Go for a walk to clear the brain. Meditate or practice some yoga. The idea is to come back refreshed and renewed.

You have two choices to achieve your big audacious dreams. Plan, or not plan. Not planning means being mindful and aware of your goals. Acting and being in accordance with the important things you wrote in your mission statement. And that may work really well for some people - but if you are anything like me, you will stand the best chance of achieving your dreams if you plan for them. 

Getting Started - How long's your timeframe?

Good planning involves thinking about both the longer term and the shorter term. But in my experience really long term planning rarely works. Have you ever seen a five year plan last five years? Things change and you therefore need to be flexible and adaptable in your planning . . .

I was talking a number of years ago to an international advertising agency about planning. Their use of of a "rolling" 9 month system really resonated with me. It works on the simple basis that you plan for the next 9 months - and then every three months your "refresh" and publish a new/amended 9 month plan. Believe it or not, a lot can happen in three months - particularly when you are embarking on a personal change programme. This system therefore allows you to constantly have a plan that is real, relevant and timely. 

Getting your plan out of your head . . .

OK so once you have agreed your planning timeline, document your longer term goals (whether it be 9 months, a year or something else) based on your mission statement. So for instance if you have decided in your mission statement that you will be financially self-sufficient, then you may set yourself a goal that . . . by March next year I will have started my first business. You then need to think about what actions you need to take to reach this goal - what, when and how. So for example you might decide to carry out some research in August by talking to similar businesses, attend a marketing course in September, write a business plan in October, hook up with a business mentor in November etc etc.

The point is - you are tying together: a) your mission statement, b) your longer term goals and c) your shorter term actions. In other words - planning!