I’ve been fighting most of my life.  Fighting for what I figured was fair, fighting for friends, fighting to be heard, to be seen, to be noticed.  Fighting with myself, and those closest to me over frequently fuck knows what.  Fighting with my own fucking heart and mind most days as internal dialogue tries to convince me I’m a terrible person, and do too much, too little, or simply the wrong thing most of the time.

Interestingly, I am not actually feeling up to scrapping anymore. Think the fire in my belly and my inane sense of self-righteousness that led me to stand up to and for just about anything and everything is not even embers anymore.  

I’m fucking exhausted. I don’t want to try so hard or wage wars against every injustice that lands on my radar anymore. This year will be the year of the goddess, and I’ll gently worship and celebrate myself, and all the magical women in my tribe, and those I’ve yet to meet. It’s time to ctfo, take a step back, and lift others up while taking care of my own goddamned self for a change.

Most people, if they are truly honest with themselves, have self-sabotaged or denied themselves the comfort and joy of being their most authentic self.  Most people fight battles or struggle with their relationships or their own mind. This year has taught me something I plan on discussing in great depth over the year ahead, and that is the fact that we are all juggling and battling with what I call “mommy and daddy” issues.  We are all carrying our broken childhoods, our disappointments, and we all want to know that we are Loved and accepted unconditionally.  We all want to make our parents (whoever they are, or whoever we view as our parental figures, related or otherwise) proud.

40 years of feeling like a failure and fighting to be recognized and feeling a fire in me that is both fed and extinguished by grand deeds and gestures and being a right bossy bitch at times needs to be put to bed.  I am no closer to feeling whole.  What I have noticed that I am, is very close to my children, and they’re growing up to be amazing, empathetic, and incredibly resilient people with the confidence to question and the fearlessness to seek their own paths.  They are all adventurers and activists.  They are all full of their own moments, magic and, of course their own wounds.  

Do you remember being young and attending religious camps or youth camps?  Do you remember singing Johnny Appleseed or Koombaya around a firepit?  I vividly remember the songs “If You’re Happy and You Know It” and “Let The Sun Shine In” and my favourite song of all time, written by one of my all time historic heroes Charlie Chaplin, Smile.  I’ve included links to jog your memory if you would like to hear them.

Unfortunately, there’s a satirical version of “If You’re Happy and You Know It” that has been playing on repeat for many years in my dark and self-loathing heart.  Same tune but the words go something like:

If you’re happy and you know it

Fuck it up

If you’re happy and you know it

Lose your shit

If you’re happy and you know it

Well, you’re likely gonna blow it

Beat them to the punch

Get in first

And fuck it up.

That may or may not be relatable… It’s what I’ve done for a long time though, and this is the year I speak to that demon and tell it to pack its things and leave because I am probably well through half of my time on this planet, and have some seriously epic shit to do with some seriously amazing people, and running away and blowing things is going to have to stop being an ongoing problem.

Happy has returned after nearly two years of emptiness and struggles.  We all have a lot of shit to shovel.  Seems that kindness, generosity, and hope can at times be seen as an invitation to manipulate, maim, use, or even dig at or destroy us.  Well, I have said it before, I will say it again, it is not your fault if someone is an asshole.  They’re sent to teach us something about ourselves, and if that something is to stay well the fuck away from them that’s a lesson that’s totally worth taking on, as it will make room for people who are truly on our side.  

Someone I do not know, and will likely never see again got incredibly upset with me recently for being as open as I am about my struggles.  She LOST her shit when I openly shared the story of my visit to a psych ward after the second total nervous breakdown of 2018.  She was angry that I was trying to normalize it as. Rightly or wrongly she is of the opinion that me openly sharing my struggle cheapens other people’s suffering and choices to do it more privately or even in silence.  That’s fair.  She can fight her demons any way she chooses, but I don’t personally think that I need to be ashamed or secretive about the journey I’ve been on or what I learn with every blow and battle.  

So.

I thought I’d wrap up the week with some highlights of 2018. Here’s a list of some of the epic wins from all over the world in a year that has kicked my ass so impressively.

• Getting my Master’s degree (one last paper to hand in and it should be golden) and traveling around Saudi Arabia and Singapore with a group of absolutely amazing friends (and my fellow students and course coordinators)
• Jacinda
• Tweets from Ricky Gervais
• New friends in Ukraine and a perfect, snowy, simply amazing few days in Kyiv
• Seriously separating from my soulmate and still remaining friends
• Doubling the size of the ChargeNet network
• Electric Avenue
• Soul Sisters new and old
• Adventures
• Downsizing
• Learning to ask for things
• NZ EV podcast with Theo
• Kind kids growing into amazing people
• Feeling fear and doing it anyway
• Road trips
• Tindering like it was Tetris and learning a lot about myself and others in the process (Blogs a plenty on those adventures heading toward your eyeballs in the year ahead)
• Scotland
• Staying put
• Sharing
• Trees, bees, birds, plants, animals and communities if people caring more about the oceans and the earth getting mobilized and impactful all over the world
• Falling down and fighting to get up stronger and smarter than before
• Being a bit more careful 
• Being a lot more grateful
• Finding food again after two years with no appetite
• Dancing even though I am a shitty dancer
• Singing in the car with the kids
• Saying enough is enough to some, and sticking with friends who have stood by me
• Argentina
• Island hopping
• Less shopping
• Hampers of hope
• Retelling strange dreams and sharing funny memes
• Wonder Women the world over
• Feeling beautiful 

And so many more moments and memories.

This year, maybe many of us will have a chance to slow down and seek our bliss.  Maybe it’s time to stop trying to prove ourselves to ourselves and others, and just know that we are all fucked up and properly perfect in our imperfections. Maybe this is the year I start writing that fucking book and learn to build and appreciate boundaries and boundless possibilities without stepping on quite so many toes as I crash through life as a Scrappy Dee.

Who knows.  

Pretty fucking eager to see where it goes though.

Happy New Year and thanks for reading.

 

Wrapped up in my crimson bath robe, with Closing Time (Tom Waits) on vinyl playing, rain pouring down, and a strong black coffee, I am enjoying being the happiest I remember in a very long time.

 

We are all just a collection of memories.  Painful, peaceful, plentiful, poignant, and pregnant with possibilities we are packed full of plummy pieces of everywhere we have been, and all that we have seen.

 jk

A couple of days ago, we had some of the tribe around to our home as the skies opened up and sheets of warm rain drenched the decks, our yard, and our guests shoes.  It was a magical day, and my friends held their gaze and asked me: “and are you okay?” or “but do you hear me when I tell you just as you tell me, that you are beautiful and inspirational and good?” and that set my eyes into streams that rivaled those falling from the eves of the home that has hosted so many moments over the years.  This life cannot be perfect, and none of us will walk through it unscathed or safe from battle scars and hard learned lessons.  But we all have our moments.  Moments have made me feel like an outsider and unworthy of the Love and respect I so freely heap on anyone and everyone who crosses my path. Moments have made me feisty and fearless, but they’ve also clearly made me scared and unstable.

 

2018 was a testing time.  For my family, for our friends and their families.  The political, environmental and economic landscape of our planet has been tossed and tried in ways that have left the thoughtful among us confounded, and the fearful unfortunately fortified with an arsenal of untruths and unsustainable solutions to situations they perhaps don’t even understand, as the choices and chances they make and take do not serve them or those around them.

 

Meaningful moments this year were not always good, but sometimes they were magnificent and magical.  A long night at a hotel bar in Edinburgh talking to a totally random team of huge hearted humans from all corners of the world changed me forever. Imagine this:  A priest, a professor, a single mom, several Scots, an activist and some business men walk into a bar, and talk until it closes. Sharing laughter, tears, loving insights and truths often only strangers could see so clearly, and so many secrets that we will carry with us in our suitcases of memories since that beautiful night.  One of that night’s tribe broke his arm skiing on Christmas eve, and others among us are battling with bills and bullshit in our various corners of the world.  We can call on each other if and when we need, and it’s amazing that one or two fleeting moments made us meet and forever be entwined.

 

This year, I wish you magic and meaning in the moments you collect.  I wish you the strength to see the sadness and struggles you’re given as a chance to be the comfort and kindness you know in your heart we all want and deserve. Bitter or better I think are both strengthened together, so seek those who see you for the beautiful being you are and find joy in seeing your success.  Steer clear of those false or fair weather friends with velvet tongues and gimme gloves.  Do the things that bring you joy and challenge you, and be ready to fail so you can then learn, and find a way to fly and coax others to do the same.

So, if you are reading this and you’ve suffered or struggled to the point you wondered where you’d find the strength to keep going, let me stop and congratulate you for carrying on and being here to read my meandering schmaltz.  You made it. I made it.  We made it through this exasperating year and we are both here.

 

The next few weeks will be full of family, friends for some of us, and quiet and lonely moments as well. It has been a blessing to be able to say I Love you to so many friends, lovers, collaborators and mentors over the past few days.  Soon my soul sister Krissy and her two sons will arrive here in Aotearoa and we will travel around the North Island with no itinerary, just a tent and a Tesla.  We will be collecting moments and maybe meeting up with some of you reading this now.  I know we will pass through Tauranga and Thames, and hopefully make it to Wellington as we wend our way around paradise.  Send me a message if you’re up to visitors and maybe we can make some moments of our own.

 

Thank you for reading this and so many of my emotional outpourings this year.  I don’t know much about what this year is going to mean for me or so many of us at this moment, but I do know that sharing it with the vast and varied broken and beautiful angels on earth will bring new magical moments that I can’t yet imagine.  So, buckle up buttercups.  We are in for a bumpy and beautiful ride.

 

Aroha Nui (Big Love) to you all.

Be it a time of boom, or bust, know who to trust. A distinct advantage of falling down is seeing who reaches out to offer a hand, and who runs for the hills.  This isn’t a new or breakthrough notion, it is a well substantiated element of the human experience.

There are so many classic, religious, folk and urban tales of the frailty of friendships and the boundlessness of cowardly self-preservation.  Judas betraying Jesus with a kiss, and Simon Peter denying him when questioned by the crowd. This poor peaceful Bohemian carpenter’s son apparently knew what was coming but still did it rough when trusted friends threw him well under the bus and into the hands of a mob.

Fiction and non-fiction brims with heartbreak and betrayal.  Reading 1984 as a teenager, my gut told me as soon as Julia entered the story not to trust her. I did, however, have faith in O’Brien for a few chapters, making that betrayal of the rivetingly relatable Winston sting so much more.

I could exhaust thousands of words recounting stories of misplaced trust and catastrophic consequences.  These stories exist because humans have done this shit to each other since before our ancestors came down from the trees.

Power struggles, pecking orders and plot twists exist even in the animal kingdom, and there’s precious little anyone can do to protect themselves from damage as they journey through their own narrative.  It remains, however, your narrative, you can be the hero, the victor, the villain or trap yourself in a vain brain.  It’s your story, even when you’re thrown challenges you were not expecting, the pen is in your hand and the pages after pain are just as blank as those after your gain.

But what about the other side of wretched duplicities and misplaced trusts?  What about the angels and advocates soldiering on in silence to help others, with little or no agenda other than a desire to live the kind of virtues they value as a result of their own journey or suffering?  What about the good guys?  What about Severus Snape, Oscar Schindler, Clara Barton, Edith Cavell, and Mary Magdalen? All far from perfect, and they did perfectly brave and beautiful things for others.

What breeds steadfastness, courage and integrity in the face of adversity for some, and turns others into self-righteous shitheads who convince themselves their cowardliness is the best thing for everyone?

Well.  I have no fucking idea.

Here’s what I do know though, we are all many things to many people throughout our lives.  We are all going to be tested and torn too many times to count in our time here.  Seems quite clear to me that no matter how authentic or honest anyone’s intent, they’ll pick the wrong battle or back the wrong horse and feel like a pile of shit sometimes, after the dust settles.  There are also people who are just self-serving assholes, and think nothing of selling anyone up the river on the mercenary meanderings on the Machiavellian road toward their ill-imagined mansion of selfishness. It is not your fault if people are assholes.  You are not a victim if you give with both hands and hope for the best in people.  But, for your own sake, trust but verify.

Before I had children, I’d stay out with friends in San Francisco and we’d engage with the homeless people we’d meet.  They all had a story, they all had their demons, and in most cases, they were highly intelligent and caring people with their own tales of flight and folly and flying too close to the sun.  The thing that struck me back then (and still makes me pensive today) is that I can’t recall any of them blaming others for their choices.  They all had stories of bad decisions, abhorrent behavior, betrayals and beloved and trusted family and friends finding their faults too profound to penetrate.  In each story I was told, the teller laid blame in their own hands and by my reckoning lived an unfathomable life as a result of too many wobbles.

The reason I found that so interesting is I’ve certainly noticed that people who have not ended up quite so cleanly and clearly on the bottom of the heap of the physical human condition so often do not find fault in their own choices.  I suppose there’s some sort of social construct that could explain this phenomenon, or maybe my control group or survey size is not large enough to draw any useful conclusions, but I do still find many healthy, sheltered, miserable and miserly people complaining. Yet the meekest among us often display grace, humility and, sadly, a lot of personal pain and deeply entrenched shame.

Now, I am not saying that any of us needs to get ourselves chucked out on the street to be humbled or decent, I am merely sharing small part of my vast and varied experience as I see it so far.

So, what am I trying to say here?  Well, maybe just that shit will happen.  Shit IS happening.  We are bombarded with bad news and fear mongering metrics across so many channels.  Our resources are starting to seem scarce, and some people are choosing kindness and community to combat what seems to so many of us as an inevitable denouement since the industrial revolution.

Some people are squirreling and shrinking into their own corner and actively choosing blame, fear, greed, and self-preservation to prepare for whatever comes next.  Yet through all of this there are the quirky and kind hearted, often on the fringes of society, sticking up for others and sharing whatever they can afford.

As you journey through this week and the next and all the days that are ahead of you, I do not think you’ll be able to escape being seen as a villain, a victor, a victim or maybe just vain.  You are the person you will have to answer to when tough choices are placed in your lap.  You are the person who will collect the karma you consign.  No matter what you do, no matter how hard you battle with your own conscience or grapple to weigh up your next move, sometimes you will just get kicked square in the guts, left reeling with the feeling that no good deed goes unpunished.  Unless you’re a bona fide prick, narcissist or sociopath.  Those shitheads feel no pain and it’s always about them.  If you are like the vast majority of the rest of humanity, you will do good, you will do bad.  You will be kind, you will be cruel.  You will make poor decisions and you will have ample opportunity to make things as right as you can, by facing facts and firmly finding your own truth.  If you think that sounds trite, fuck it, I am not here to win friends.  Enough people have recently decided they’re duly sick of my shit and we’ve parted ways for the overall benefit of all parties.

But for every dazed and disillusioned fair-weather friend, there’s been an angel to replace them.  You probably already know as you read this that there are people around you who serve themselves and take with both hands.  Listen to that little voice and be cautious with your heart, your time and resources when that slug in your stomach squirms in their company. That instinct is given to us for a reason.  Let go, forgive, move on.  Look for the best in people but learn when you are shown the worst.  And when you find your soulmates, your cheerleaders, your champions and your tribe, Love them, respect them. But for goodness sake do not do what I have done so many times and test them to breaking point, because of your own fears and insecurities.  Give people a chance unless that slug tells you not to, and cherish those who have proved themselves and give them the benefit of the doubt.

Good luck out there today and thank you for reading.

I’ve had a hella year.  It’s a little over 12 months since we had a diagnosis for our middle child that forever changed the dynamic and trajectory of our family, and, perhaps more seriously, our views of ourselves as individuals and as a unit.  It has also been a year of amazing change and growth professionally.  I’ve learned the hard way that trust must be earned and verified, and all interactions must be written down and clearly negotiated and understood by relevant parties.

Being the big-hearted cartoon-like character that I am, I attract all kinds of people.  Most people are beautiful and broken and bring a bounty of insight and support in their interactions.  Most people want to do good.  Most people are doing the best they can.  All people are fighting a very hard battle, which we often know nothing about.  Some people are just toxic assholes.

I’ve taken mental stock of the people who have seriously fucked me over through the years, and thought it may be helpful to other softies to share some of the tell-tale signs of a slimeball or snake.

So here’s some observations:

• Shame blame and suggesting you’re insane – There’s a lot of material on the Internet about emotional vampires and toxic types. They are often referred to as narcissists, and a common weapon in their arsenal is blaming others for their failings, seemingly seeking satisfaction by shaming people, and frequently gaslighting (creating situations that make you question your sanity, or openly and aggressively saying you are nuts while they are in total control of their faculties).  They will highlight your fears and enjoy watching you question your sanity at any opportunity.
• Taking credit for other’s achievements – Toxic people pat themselves on the back when things go well. They are often bossy and brutal and have an inflated sense of their own importance.  They will frequently point out how clever and important they are and more often than not use that as an opportunity to downplay other’s contributions or strengths.  The saddest part of this being, they are often hurting in their own way and their bullyish behaviour is likely a result of their own unquenchable desire to feel control because someone, somewhere took it away from them.
• Always Right – Toxic and controlling people must always be right. They will fight a point until their perceived opponent is exhausted. When discussions turn into battles, you are probably dealing with a toxic type and alarm bells should tell you to avoid this person indefinitely.
• Gossip – Toxic types take great pleasure in sharing the misfortunes of others. Just for fun, try asking a person who is prone to spilling all sorts of secrets and salaciousness about others what they are saying about you when you are not around.  They will almost certainly act affronted, and deny any less than saintly activity when speaking of you in your absence.  This is bullshit of course, and they cannot and should not be trusted.
• Few Friends – People figure out in due course that they are dealing with someone toxic, and when they do, if they have a healthy sense of self-esteem and self-preservation, they will remove themselves from a detrimental dealings. There are also people who simply do not warm to many others, they are selective or shy and choose their tribe with great care.  If people don’t present with other character or behavioural tendencies on this list, they are not toxic, they might just not like people very much.  I adore those kind of people, and need to be able to tell the difference more quickly now that I am older and have been shit on enough times to know better.
• Take With Both Hands – Toxic people will plead poverty and suck you dry in tangible and intangible ways. Toxic types feel that their needs are paramount in any situation and will seek out the “givers” and the “nurturers” in life. Empaths and sensitive types are like a flame to this miserable mangy moths, and if you have a big heart, they will work their way into your life to take whatever they can get and leave it a bit more broken.  Relationships must run in both directions, and while every person will have something different to offer, respect and reciprocation will be of spoken and demonstrable importance to people who are not toxic.  You deserve that.  Do not settle for less as life is short and those who build you up rather than suck you dry will help make the journey better, easier and almost surely more fun for you both.
• Full of Excuses – Toxic people, as I stated earlier, are well versed in the blame game. Rather than owning issues or seeking solutions, they will spend their time and energy telling anyone who will listen how some fuck up was entirely everyone else’s fault.  Finger pointing and finding fault in everyone else is not conducive to problem solving or growth.  Toxic people’s energies are spent on building layers of excuses for why they’ve done or neglected to do something that has a negative impact.  It’s never their fault.  They likely won’t even be interested in finding solutions, as they are too focused on letting everyone know all the ways they were not to blame.
• Lies – Toxic people do not embrace the truth. The truth is scary for all of us at times, but toxic people will often be pathological in their inability to see or accept any truth that does not suit their skewed and self-serving view of the world.  Don’t let people like this close you.  And also, try to be honest with yourself, even about the actions and activities of toxic people who weasel their way into your world.
• Cruelty – Last, and certainly not least, toxic people are cruel. They will manipulate, bully, shame, blame, and their devious eyes will twinkle and dilate when they say something hurtful or make you feel small.  Don’t get me wrong, there comes a time in any healthy relationship that uncomplimentary truths will need to be told.  People shouldn’t enjoy this, and if they do they are not your friends.

I hope that this helps someone somewhere. You’re worth so much more than being treated with cruelty or dishonesty.  If this blog hits nerves for you regarding any of your relationships, maybe it is time to rethink some of the people in your life.  You do not need to tolerate toxic people.  You are worth so much more than that.

 

Three things were highlighted to me yesterday, during a routine trip to the supermarket to prepare for Sunday dinner.

• This is my home, and I am surrounded by Love, support and a few people who proper fucking hate me and avoid eye contact
• My kids are hilarious
• Four year olds at Supermarkets are likely going to be loud assholes, and a 13 year old sibling with a dark sense of humour will add fuel to that fire with exhausting results

So I quite literally dragged my eldest and youngest out yesterday afternoon as I needed to get some ingredients for dinner, and also do a bit of shopping for my Dad who has pretty advanced MS and is working at the hospital as a Chaplain right now.  He’s a great guy.  He rolls his eyes at me a lot, but I choose to think he’s proud on some levels, whilst obviously wildly disappointed on others.  Such is family dynamics the world over I would think.

Arrived to a full carpark.  Curbed my Tesla model X trying to squeeze into a wee little space.  And not one, but two of my old friends drove past as I attempted to squeeze myself into the back seat to liberate the fidgeting four year old from his five point harnessed car seat.

“Hey! DeeDee!!! Smiled a gorgeous Natalie with her two very grown up looking girls as they slowly rolled by my disheveled self.

“Oh my goodness, you guys grew up so quick!” I squealed and smiled as they soared by me.

Then a few steps closer to the entrance another woman’s voice yelled out: “Yo! Wonderwoman!  How long you in the country for this time?!” to which I responded… “Tuesday”

Eyes rolled smiles shone and I carried on into the mall.

Convincing James to sit the fuck down in the correct location in the shopping cart was a 7 minute struggle.  Then we eventually negotiated securing him safely in the seat, with an assurance I would buy him cucumber.  Sweet. You can have as much cucumber as you want kid.  Mostly water and not bad for you at all so bring that shit all the way on. Feeling like a bit of a rock star crunchy granola mom at that point, we stopped to get some fish for Phteven.

And the yelling started.  “NooOOOooo!! Tell Daniel to STOP teasing me!” and evil giggles from my 13 year old son, knowing that he was being a total shit disturber and pushing his sibling’s buttons.

Defeated, I walked up, without a speck of anger in my voice, and said to them both:

“Why is it, whenever I take you children anywhere, you are always the loudest people in the place?”

The authenticity and defeat in my voice garnered a belly laugh from a beautiful young looking mom, who beamed a big, knowing smile, and said: “Ah, hell no! If mine were here we’d have you beat! I’m watching you and feeling quite smug and content I left them with their dad right now.”

I smiled back and looked at my two beautiful assholes, and then back at her and said; “Yep, no one really tells you just what a pain in the ass kids are until it is too late eh.”

And we exchanged another knowing nod, smile, and total mental high five and carried on with our shopping.

Then, over in the organic/vegan section, I was buying my husband some Tofurkey and myself some Kombucha, and my friend Lisa arrived.

We spent the next twenty minutes talking about our kids, our work, politics, her large dog who goes to daycare right next door to our new office.  We talked about her sister Rebecca, who is one of my absolute favourite humans on the planet, and her bustling home for teens who need Love and laughter.  She’s the best, and I want to kidnap her, my friend Sandy, maybe Nikki and Erica for my Birthday trip next year (California, NYC, Isreal, maybe UK again?)

The thing that struck me, was how completely and utterly aware of my batshit crazy she is, was, and remains.  Rather than judge or fear the clusterfuck that is Dee, Lisa and so many other amazing women I have worked with, met, and befriended over the years just roll with the ridiculous.  It’s great.  I don’t feel like I deserve it, but I certainly appreciate it.

So that was a snippet into my Sunday.  Nothing life altering or earth shattering to report.  Just a forty year old freak finding friends and dragging family through the supermarket.

It was a reminder that it is nice to be home, and this most certainly is my home, even if I never really have my feet on the ground here for very long lately.

Thanks for reading.

It’s 7:14pm on a Monday.  I am halfway through an impossible and seemingly insurmountable mountain of overdue assignments.

In two days of actual attentive effort, I am three assignments through and have four more to go.  For the first time since starting this journey, I feel as though I may actually be capable of delivering the prescribed projects.  I deferred the obligations so I could affirm my many fears, of being inadequate and unfit to enjoy this kind of win in the fucked-up life we are all wading through on our own trajectory.

When I applied to study I made clear my ongoing mental illness struggles including ADHD, so I have been granted more than reasonable extensions across the course of my studies, while my classmates have actively and successfully met their deadlines. The guilt attached to this is crippling.

The whole time I could have and should have been enjoying the satisfaction of learning and sharing knowledge gained, I have been tackling numerous personal and professional struggles and falling prey to the self-loathing and imposter syndrome for days and days.

Even at my darkest hours recently, I’ve turned up to work and contributed.  Even at my lowest point I stood on a stage and presented with grace and enthusiasm to a variety of audiences. I’ve asked for help, and been shit on by smiling assassins, and I’ve also been supported by angels disguised as people, who believe in me and the causes we champion with no thought for their own profit or benefit.

I have a few observations worth sharing about all of this, and that’s why I am blogging instead of addressing my looming deadlines.

I hate that anyone may look at the charmed and chaotic life I lead and think that their beautiful and broken journey is in any way lacking.  I am not as comfortable being admired as I am knowing I serve as a warning to others.

Someone recently said something invaluably important to me: “Show me your trauma”

These words stuck in my busy brain and hurt and helped my heavy heart.  We are all fighting a hard battle.  We are all struggling and most people do not and will never know what another person is burdened with.

Whatever you do to earn a crust, wherever you live, whatever your dreams or ambitions may be, you’re going to shovel some shit.

I live in New Zealand.  This is an island nation filled with the mystery and magic of Polynesian influence, cultural diversity and rich and varied communities. It is also a place where success is only encouraged if you keep it under your hat and don’t share it openly.

So I am burdened with the kiss of death that is success.  I live in paradise. I am heavily invested in the future of this place, with all possible aspects of my being.  Any success or failure that my team and I experience here, is often only quietly mumbled about, while overseas they roll out the proverbial red carpet. I still find this all a bit strange, but it is what it is.

My husband and I are able to do what we do because people either like us, or understand our vision for a better New Zealand through electrification of transport.

For those of you reading this who are unfamiliar with our journey: We are, with the help of an incredible support network (internal and external) building the largest family-owned charging infrastructure on the planet, all with the aim of encouraging the uptake of electric vehicles, and helping New Zealand to become energy independent and thrive commercially through these changes.

We are putting stations in the ground across New Zealand in the hope we can divest from carbon and encourage a thriving green tech and innovative economy that will not only keep our best and brightest here, but invite others from around the globe to choose this paradise and contribute to our strengths.

While attempting to offer my specialist skills to expedite this audacious endeavour, I somehow convinced myself that I needed a master’s degree. In order to prove to myself and the world I was worthy of the opportunities I have been blessed with.

Fuck. That.

But we all make our beds, and we all must lay ourselves and our baggage down.

I’ve lost count of the truly soul-destroying slings and arrows that have smarted since the giddy days before we decided, as a couple, as a team (my husband and me) to actively remove one of the biggest excuses to delay or decide against carbon divestment.

We had relatively simple plans, to kick-start something we saw as a sure thing, the electrification of transport.  And we kicked this off before any major corporate was even out of the proverbial gate.

I suspect we are farther along than anyone could have imagined.  We got to this point with honesty, integrity, intelligence, and purpose, and many would agree, a bit of crazy and eccentricity as well.  The better we do, the more barriers are thrown up in our path.  Kindness and resilience is often met with opportunistic ploys, ill-informed hubris, unfounded fear, and general douche-baggery.

Yet, we keep going.  In the same spirit we began.  Plucky brilliance and sustained kindness and goodwill will win over greed and ignorance.  When will it prevail?  Every. Single. Time.

Love for each other feeds our desire to do better.  When we were young, and thought we’d never find a home, we found each other, and through any trial or struggle… we both know we can face anything together, as long as we bend and do not break.

The higher ground will be found if given enough time, and if the purveyors of hope and innovation are both tenacious, and supported in their efforts.

What I am saying, in my cringe-worthy and unfiltered way is simple:

We’re all fucked.  We are all searching for purpose.  We are all struggling.  We are all scared.  We are all failing and flourishing in ways we can never, and will never have the time or capacity to accurately reveal to anyone.

Keep going.  Take a break if and when you need.  Be you.  Ask for help.  Seek praise.  GIVE encouragement and strength to everyone, even people who don’t necessarily earn it.  Perhaps they need it most of all.  But please, hear me when I tell you, that you’re a fucking genuine miracle.

You’ve taken ten minutes out of your life, and I suspect your life is peppered with all kinds of shit you’re not feeling equipped to shovel.  You’ve read my unmitigated rant and I hope you can take away two things:

1) You’re not alone and we all feel like we are often, in a bullshit sea of “connectedness” so reach out in a real sense and take the good with the bad and keep going.  Life is real AF right now while we all watch the planet go down the drain, so let’s get on the same page and go down scratching and biting.  Better yet.  Let’s get real about changing things.
2) You may actually be your own worst enemy, and you are also your own strongest and most sincere cheerleader.  Keep going.  Bend with the breeze and the tempest, but please, do not break. I won’t if you don’t.

Thank you for reading.

Back to study.

Today I am happy.

Sad to be away from my Phteven after we’ve rekindled smouldering embers. Happy to be on my way to the country where I lived for the best three short years of my childhood, Scotland.  Happy to be given an opportunity to share my enthusiasm for a cleaner, kinder and more collaborative future for us all.

I realized that to be content and cheerful as I am now, there’s a whole heap of pain and learning to pave the road to Chillville, and I only ever stop here for a week or two before I’m bound to pull back into the outskirts of Crazytown or Anxiety Alley.  But the infrastructure between all of the places and states I visit is getting strong.  My support crew and routes are solid and reliable, and help is never far away when I get lost, as I am apt to do.

I realised I was happy as I was walking down toward security screening as I’ve done dozens, perhaps hundreds of times, and I overheard and caught glimpses of farewells between friends, lovers, and family members.  Tears and awkward Kiwi blokes wondering if they absolutely had to hug their brother in law goodbye, opting for a solid handshake and should grab instead.  Kids cuddling grandparents hard around the neck and tearful waves and sniffles and sighs.  How lucky we all are to have people we care for enough that we are blessed with the pain of missing them.

So here I am sat at my computer, too many inquiries and questions to answer before I fly to Qatar in an hour.  So I’ve opted to blog instead of doing work I am desperately overdue delivering.

Why?  Because I fucking like to write.  I really do.  I wasted my words on feeble and infirm friendships and feeling like I had lost my voice in the abyss a little bit lately.  New shiny objects and self-loathing can both sometimes derail me.  The foundation of sharing, speaking, feeling, and owning my batshit beautiful can be shaken but the tremors are quiet today and I am grateful for the calm I am feeling right now.

I’m about to get on a plane and journey to Scotland to speak at a smarter cities forum.  I will say what I always say:  Collaborate, collaborate, collaborate.  I will tell the story of our plucky little nation’s clean energy and phenomenal EV uptake.  I will gesticulate, I will articulate, and I will demonstrate the power that enthusiasm, community and bravery contain.

I started my day late for filming and with a four year old wrapped arms and legs around me with a snotty nose sniffling in my ear and whispers of: “Oh, I just Love you so much mummy. I weewy just sooooo Love you.

After glancing at my phone and realizing it was mere minutes until my 8:00am filming session was about to commence, I attempted, unsuccessfully to steer the film crew to our house instead of the office.  Message was received to late, so the dance of diving into the shower and out the door and applying my face en route commenced as it has done thousands of times before.

12 minutes late, with one of my oldest and dearest friends looking like an ethereal goddess as she always has and always does, I hit my marks and got my soundbites.

Then it was back in the car for a ten minute commute to see my beautiful and brilliant special needs boy.  A sore ear and high temperature did not dampen his charm or cheer.  We baked a cake and talked about his exciting trip to Raro this week.

Then back to the Hobbit homestead to finish packing, grab my passport and then head out to the airport where my foghorn friend and business development manager James Cozens was chilling out waiting to bring my car back to the office.

My. Life. Is. Hectic.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The more we attempt the more we will fail.  It is statistics and reality that we are bound by, and the more you try the more you will both succeed and fail.  None of us are actually superheroes, none of us are above melting down and meaningfully wanting to give up.

I am sat in the plane that will take me to Doha and then on to Scotland.  I am thinking about my soulmate and my children and my friends.  And I am happy.

I hope wherever you are and whatever you are doing you are as well.

XXOO

Dee

This weekend we hosted the first exclusive Tesla Owner’s club meet up.  There were 11 Tesla parked in our tree-lined driveway, and a couple of dozen of the occupants piled from their cars into our warm and welcoming home.  Our ears, hearts, heads and tummies were filled with chat and treats.

Among the guests, of course, were the wonderful wives.  We shared stories of our husbands’ obsessive chit-chat and forum shenanigans regarding electric cars, politics, futurism, and climate change. We swapped tales of silent speed and forcing our children to starve rather than eat on the new upholstery… and then giving up that rule in short order to steal some sweet silence on the first road trip, or even a commute that lasted more than 20 minutes.

The truth is, Phteven and I haven’t entertained much in the past several months. Nor have we ventured out very often. There are times, even quintessentially social creatures resort to their cocoon.  I’ve been a human burrito since last October, and I hope this weekend signifies a tear in this chrysalis.  I’ve got wings and they need to dry out so I can get back to flitting and flapping as is my nature.

 

Anyway.

 

Today was a treat on too many levels to speak of.  Our guests were divine, and their kids were cheeky and giggled at perfectly timed intervals.  Everyone was gone by 7:00pm, even though we practically tried everything short of kidnapping to keep last guests from leaving.  After piling them high with leftovers, there were still plenty of buns, fillings, fizzy drinks, and baking to fill the kids and I up.  Phteven had a hot date with one of his bromantic life partners, so it was just the kids and I for dinner after the last Tesla drove away.

 

While the gathering was going, the noise was steady and the smiles were plentiful. Belly laughs and big smiles filled a space that has been empty on balance for so many months.  We covered a lot of ground and made some new friends, but the conversation pieces that stuck out, and the impetus for this blog post were these:

 

1) Life is seriously fucking messy.  2)Parenting is the hardest thing any of us have ever faced.  3) People have stuff, and the ugly stuff, is actually quite beautiful.

 

Let me elaborate.

 

Catherine and I were looking out the window, over the epic view across to Herald Island.  We started with comfortable small talk, and watched the planes fly over the house as they do most days.  After some cringey mom jokes and a sigh or two, she looked me in the face and asked how I was doing.  Not as a progression or to be politic.  She asked like she gave a fuck, and in a tone that made me know she wasn’t a stranger too shit getting a bit real sometimes too.

 

I smiled, a big, goofy Dee grin that started in my heart and radiated onto my fat little face.  Everyone with an Internet connection in my extended social and even professional circle is aware of my struggles lately.  I’ve been too sad to move for weeks, and shattered and defeated for well over six months.  She’s no stranger to shoveling shit either.  She was enquiring from a place of care and concern, and we had one of those rare and perfect moments of magic, where two hearts meet at the same place after trudging through their own trenches.

 

Our chatting continued and between expletive filled accounts of our various parenting fails, and remembering fondly the time before time, when we just KNEW we would be amazing at adulting and especially parenting.  We came up with the unanimous conclusion, that no one is a better or more qualified parent, than people who have not had children. We were all in total agreement that we DEFINITELY knew more about parenting before we actually had kids. What I wouldn’t give for THAT level of confidence, even occasionally, now.  Sigh.

 

Our small group grew by a few as our animated chat continued.  We shared stories of tears, tantrums and sometimes screaming through struggles and strife.  Accounts were even verified by husbands who were within earshot.

 

I wear my heart on my sleeve, and share and over-share because I do not think my faults or struggles are unique.  I think most of us feel lost, scared, unworthy, anxious or completely out of our depth sometimes.  The fact I am more than comfortable being the hot mess that I am for the whole world to see, means I don’t have to lug around the fear of people figuring out that I am batshit.  Being my very own, unique, ridiculous, indulgent, sometimes-self-aware-but-too-fucking-lazy-and-stubborn-to-change brand of crazy is something I can claim. Work in progress, but don’t judge, we all are just that, works in progress, and some days and phases are better than others.

I got to hang out with new people, who seem to have everything well and truly figured out. They did.  They do.  But they have their own struggles and stories too.

 

Another unanimously notable observation, was that a lot of people, waste a lot of time giving a lot of fucks about what other people think. The absurdity of trying to prove to other people that we have our shit together is just too exhausting at this stage of life.  We are not the crowd you’ll find sporting designer shades, perfect nails, or posting only our highlights reel on the socials.  We are a vast and varied bunch, but we are also, all pretty clear on where the fucks we have available are given.  We care about our families, our journeys, our planet, and the future.  We all face these passions in our own ways and feel considerably stronger given an opportunity of doing it together.

 

In case you were wondering, the fact that we ARE the crowd who drive around in very expensive electric performance vehicles, has not escaped me.  A Tesla is not a toy.  It is a hefty investment, and only the tiniest sliver of our society will be able to afford one.  Our guests today celebrate their choice, and all feel compelled to make a difference, particularly concerning climate change. They choose to spend their precious spare time taking family and friends for rides and drives, or chatting with interested members of the public at chargers, or volunteering at schools and events.  You will find them on any number of digital and real communities, flying their own flags for a better tomorrow.  Everyone in my home today had a unique story.  Everyone in my home today had seen feast and famine in their lives, everyone in my home chooses to dedicate significant resources and time to making things better for their kids, and every person and thing on the planet as well.

 

Part of feeling shitty lately, is the white middle class guilt that I labor around with. There are other layers of shit too. Crippling imposter’s syndrome, raising four fabulous and equally fucked up humans (we are all fucked up, but being a parent means you get front row seats to the fucked upedness of your children). Even feeling shitty makes a person feel shitty sometimes, because there’s really not that much to actually feel shitty about.  I won’t go on.  I could bang on almost infinitely on this tangent, but I will spare you.

 

What I am saying, in the typically sweary, convoluted, and long-winded way is simple.

 

Everyone has their stuff.  Metaphorical, tangible, and just general… stuff.  What we do with our stuff defines us far more than what that stuff actually is.

 

 

Life is a balancing act.  My observations of late are verifying the fact it is actually impossible to be content if we don’t let some heavy shit go.

People I know and admire can bang on and on about shit that they’ve been carrying around for an eternity.  Worse, they can blame the heavy shit (including heavy people and relationships) for holding them back and making them unhappy or unsuccessful.  The thing with perception, and what we think, and how we feel, is that it becomes our reality.  If you really want to be lighter, freer, happier and more resilient, you have to drop the heavy and unhelpful shit and keep going.  It may well weigh you down and even destroy you if you do not.

I am a woman of vast and various faults.  I hold grudges and ghost people when I am in extreme emotional pain.  Knowing it is a step in the right direction, working on fixing it is something I need to seriously start putting effort toward.

Our neighbours, who just happen to have doctorates, are both world record holders, and an internationally acclaimed power couple (so I hold their opinions and observations in pretty high esteem based on their pathological overachieving), have some of the best advice I have ever heard on making relationships and life work.  In their world, you get an allocated time to vent, bitch, moan, and bludgeon an issue or concern to death.  Once this allocated time is up, the issue is closed and you have to move the fuck on with your life and your relationship.

They call this the 30-day-rule.  I am going to take it for a whirl I think, as I am notorious for holding grudges, and not letting things go.  It’s not good for me and it is not fair on other people.  I am also good at ghosting just because I get busy, not because there is any ill-will.  But that’s a blog for another day, today we are talking about cleaning out your heart and head.

 

Now, walking well away from things that do not serve us, like relationships that are unhealthy (or even worse toxic) is fine, if not essential.  All the schmaltz, hype, and pith you so often see on motivational posters, about surrounding yourself with people who are amazing, supportive, positive and successful (success is measured in so many ways, and does not have to be tied to material things) is really solid shit. You lay down with dogs you are going to get fleas. You lift others up, and you’ll both soar above the bullshit and battles that are inevitable.  Celebrating the successes and strengths of the people who become your tribe will get you through basically anything life will throw at you, and life is going to throw you some nasty shit.

 

Walking away can be clean and courteous and ought to be just that.  I’ve had some fantastic friendships end because of insurmountable incompatibilities, but you get to a point when you just have to call it.  The 30-day-rule can apply to relationships as well as situations.  From the moment the straw that breaks the camel’s back falls in your relationship (peripheral, non family and inner circle relationships, because you gotta work things out with your special people, even when it is tough as fuck to carry on. Your inner circle is your strength and foundation and very little can ever justify walking away from your truest tribe) give yourself a 30 day window to cool down and carry on, or, if you’re still quite sure the relationship is not serving you, or them, or both, drop that fucker like they are hot.  Wish them well, and close and lock the door and carry on with your life.  No need for reigniting or fanning flames which are destructive, and no need to worry about it.  The people who bring you strength, hold you accountable with kindness, and lift you higher are worthy of respect, time and concern.  People who drag you down need to find their own tribe and keep the fuck out of your way while you follow your bliss.

 

Once you’ve moved on, from a situation, circumstance, run-in or relationship, put it to bed and forget about it.  Letting things go is incredibly important for all of us.  Hanging onto things that don’t serve us (grudges, people, poorly laid plans) is a hazard to our health and only hurts your proverbial and actual heart.

 

So, if you’ve been stewing or stressing or burdened with a hot and heavy load lately, consider cutting that shit loose.  If it creeps back into your heart or mind maybe try a mantra of: “I am worthy of walking away from things that do not serve me.” Or “Ain’t nobody got time for that!”  I’ve been leaning on these two phrases heavily this week, and it’s freeing and fabulous.

 

Hope wherever you are and whatever this week has chucked at you, you are able to let the things go that do not serve you, and carry on a bit lighter and brighter for it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is fair to say that Buenos Aires is one of my favourite locations on the face of this planet.  I’ve made sure I have a hefty control group of beautiful cities to base my comparison on.

After an overwhelming year, heartbreaking kid stuff, crazy growth at work, some hefty betrayals, and even being on the brink of divorce to my soul mate Phteven, I decided to take a trip with no kids and no work to celebrate turning 40, and hopefully reboot my undeniably broken brain.

Two dear friends have joined me here from New Zealand, and a third will be arriving tomorrow morning from Hong Kong.

We’ve been immersed in South American culture for nearly a week, with a small and unfortunate deviation to a sub-standard Japanese restaurant on the outskirts of Palermo.  Argentina is famous for its gorgeous food, but maybe stick to the traditional, Italian and French cuisines I’d advise.

Both of the women here with me are incredibly private people.  They do not crave attention or human interaction the way that I do, and they value an incredibly small and trusted circle of friends and don’t give too many fucks about people who fall outside of that fold. I admire them for it.  I also admire the fact they are pointing out to me the value of deeds, not words, and the beauty of sitting in silence together. Both E and P are honest to the point of brutality.  P and I have been an unlikely set of friends since we were both teenagers.  She suffers no fools, takes no prisoners, and is consistently uncompromising.  E is much gentler, and elegant AF.  She walks like a swan wafts through a canal.  P is like Florence (all about food and beauty and style) and E is like Paris (elegant and timelessly beautiful and adored).  It turns out these are also their favourite cities. So my sophisticated travel companions are quite the opposite of my fiery Latino leanings, but somehow, we have had an absolutely wonderful time together.

Different is good.  Honesty is a sign of respect and friendship.  Travel is the most magical thing human beings whose hearts are connected can share.  Being here with them has had healing powers on my heart and head beyond my highest hopes.

This is my happy place.  I yearned to come here as a child who listened to Evita several thousand times (Elaine Paige, not Madonna) and I spent one of the most magical times in my long and frequently fraught marriage here.

My first trip to my soul city was several years ago with my entire family, and my best friend Shaun from High School in Thames and his fiancé and daughter.  We landed together here and Shaun dragged me out to the streets of Buenos Aires in the pouring rain.  I was feeling travel weary and disinterested, but the electricity caught me in short order and I danced in the rain, fuelled only by Parilla and puns (Shaun is very punny) and it is a night I won’t forget.

The extended group left, and my husband and I had a rare and wonderful fortnight together without children.  We drank strong coffee every morning, and had a siesta every day.  We walked the avenues, stopping every block to snog and snuggle because South America seems to have the market cornered on accepting public displays of affection.  We coveted the antiques in San Telmo and did the Evita trail.  My heart has been aching to return here ever since then.

Sadly, my mental state and the state of play with our children meant someone had to stay in Auckland.  Steve drew the short straw, and he’s wracked with jealousy, but still glad he’s stayed home with the children.

There’s a part of me that is pleased to be here without him, as I’ve made so many friends. A Serbian/Canadian family from Ottawa spent the day with me on Thursday and I was blown away by how intelligent and warm they all were.  And funny.  So funny.  Our guide Sol has taken us around the city by day and by night, and I’ve met a simply superb scientist named Sergio who we will be having dinner with again tonight.  Add to that half the tango bar that we’ve become friends with, as well as waiters and waitresses all over the city, and I can safely say we’ve made ourselves very much at home in this beautiful place.

Two more full days does not seem sufficient.

I’m already planning our return though.

So, as the shades finally start to let in some sun on my latest and longest depressive episode (this one was a doozie!) I’ll brace myself to arrive back in New Zealand and try to step back from work and jump into my family a bit more, as I have been attempting to do for three years now.

In the meantime, I am going to smile like an idiot as marvelously attractive and expressive men make eyes at me (a welcome elixir to the poison of realizing I am now seriously middle aged) and the sunlight and rain fall through the thousands of trees that line the streets and avenues of this heavenly place.

Thank you Krissy and E and P for being a part of the most magical recovery I have ever known.  You women are wonderful and I Love the way you Love me.