Category: Life

fall

It’s Saturday.

Leaves have fallen and the air is crisp; today is the first day I smelt autumn.

I love this time of year.

It’s my favourite season for so many reasons: the deep brown colours, the change of temperature and the quiet, slow excitement of what’s to come. Autumn’s arrival tells me my birthday is near.

Except, things are different this time.

I don’t know if any of you have ever had your birthday ruined before. It’s not a nice feeling. In fact, it’s pretty bloody awful. Close friends will know (as will those who have read the piece I wrote for CALM) that my birthday last year was probably the worst day of 2010.

The day before, was amazing. A great day out shopping & hanging out in town then later, my awesome birthday party. Benny came dressed as Beetlejuice, friends old and new mixed together, hell, even my family came.

Less than 24hrs later, on the evening of November 21st – my actual birthday – my then girlfriend of two years decided that it would be an ideal time to end our relationship over [what I was then told] ‘trust issues’. Wrongly accusing me of cheating, she was up and out of the flat before the week was out.

It nearly killed me. How do you prove yourself innocent when the other party has convinced themselves you’re guilty?

After months of blaming myself, I uncovered the truth: she hadn’t broken up with me over trust at all. She had, in fact, decided to leave me for one of my alleged best mates and was too cowardly to tell me. A chance meeting with the latter (after general avoidance and non-returning of calls) back in March started that avalanche of information.

The night I found out everything, the week before I headed off to Siberia, my friends were stunned. They expected me to be livid, to be more angry. But honestly? When all the pieces finally fell into place? I felt relieved.

Relieved that I wasn’t at fault, relieved that the pain and angst I’d been carrying around for months could finally lift and most of all relieved that I was out of the sick, twisted, horrid mess that I’d mistaken for two people I could love and trust.

Today is the first day of autumn for me. My birthday is just around the corner. I stepped out of the flat this afternoon, took a huge lung full of air and… I remembered.

A couple of weeks ago someone dear to me asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday. “I don’t know” I replied. Then I remembered what happened last year. The fake smiles at the party, the secret plans behind my back – I panicked.

“What will I do? What can I do? God, last year was terrible..”

But y’know what? Life is better now. So much better. Life has moved on, love has moved on and, best of all, the people around me are amazing.

When I first started writing this about an hour ago, I was full expecting it to a be low, melancholic exploration of how now the change of season has made me sad. Instead it’s a celebration of autumn, the beautiful season it is and a look up toward the amazing birthday I’ve got lined up for next month.

Bring. It. On.

 

[Private post – made public Dec 23rd, 2011]

For Trey

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

– Dylan Thomas, 1951

RIP Trey Pennington. We miss you terribly.

Six months of travel

Not me. A chap named Jonathan.

James, Jonathan and Ben

[that’s Jonathan, over my left shoulder – don’t ask about the hats]

I met Jonathan first in Russia on my first night in Moscow back in April. He was halfway through a six month trip and had big plans. We ran into each other again in Mongolia and (along with a few others in our group) we discovered we pretty much had the same schedule ahead of us for the seven days or so [taking in camping out in the desert, catching the train to China and then hanging out in Beijing].

Anyway, I got back from my trip in May, Jonathan got back yesterday.
This post, entitled ‘HOME’ (and reposted with his permission) is what he’s just published and I actually love it.

Enjoy.

“Just finished unpacking my backpack for the last f***ing time because I am finally home in good old London. If ever there was a moment for a cliché/gay/philosophical/Disney/boring (whichever) shout, surely now is the one time I can get away with one. So here goes (and then I promise I will shut up about all this and go back to drinking K and listening to s*** music).

A lot of people have asked me recently what I’ve learnt or found in the last 6 months living like a gypsy ‘on the road’. Well, I haven’t discovered the meaning of life, I haven’t realised that the world is a beautiful place, I still don’t understand religion and I still don’t get the appeal of a tan. What I have found is a restored faith in the human race, pieced together by every individual that has gone out of their way to help me get so far. The couch-surfers around the world who put me up for a night or few, the drivers who gave me a ride when I was stood with my thumb up on the side of the road in the rain, the families that invited me to live with them and those that fed me despite being too poor to get a solid roof above their heads. The people that turned my map the right way round, the people who patiently tried to teach me a part of their language and culture, those that put up with my constant complaining everywhere I went, and everyone else who smiled at the pasty tourist far too far from home. Sure, there are a lot of dickheads in the world, but they are greatly outnumbered by amazing people.

The Cambodians have a saying ‘when glass floats’ which means when evil prevails over good. Glass will never float. That’s what I’ve learnt.

PEACE OUT YO.”

 

Peace out yo, have a great Monday.

Why I love Conan O’Brien

“It is our failure to achieve our perceived ideal that ultimately defines us and makes us unique”
– Conan O’Brien, June 12th 20011

I’ve already shared this both on Twitter and on Facebook, but it was happening upon an old article that I’d read a while ago did I then decide to post this video up here. It’s 20mins long, but worth every second; take some time out and appreciate Conan O’Brien.

If you’re done here read these excerpts from ‘The War for Late Night‘ by Bill Carter, c/o Vanity Fair. It tells you everything about why this speech means so much.

Then, once you’ve done that, check out this ‘kinetic typography’ video (a mere 2mins 45secs) of Conan’s farewell monologue from The Tonight Show.

http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=20534171&server=vimeo.com&show_title=0&show_byline=0&show_portrait=0&color=00adef&fullscreen=1&autoplay=0&loop=0

The man is an inspiration.

Relationships. Matter.

If you’ve clicked through in the vein hope of finding my next post on why ‘relationship marketing matters to brands’ then sorry, not today. Today is about something else.

Relationships matter.

Your relationships matter. Your family. Your friends. Your loved ones. Your other half. Your soul-mate. The relationships you have with the people that matter, matter.

I would’ve quit my job last year if it would’ve meant saving my relationship. Alas, for me, it was too late. I heard a story today of someone else going through a break up because of work and just last night someone else told let me that, after a particularly bad period, they introduced a work veto; if at any point work gets too much, and has a negative impact on their lives together, then it stops. The work, the fighting. Everything.

Life is too short, too damn complicated and far too sweet to spend it working every God-given day and night on something that – if it really doesn’t make a difference to life or death – really isn’t worth it.

To top it all off, thanks to the endless source of knowledge and amusement that is Stefan Constantinescu, I’ve just seen this –

If this is you, then stop. Right now.

It isn’t worth it.

Relationships matter.

Not the one between you and your client. Nor the one between you and your customers. But the one between you, the love of your life and your kids.

Life is short, make the most of it.
Please.

 

Yes, I’m talking to you.

 


Leaf

2011-03-03_2253autumn
——green
———-crisp
————-photography
———————teddington
——————————-home
———————————-falling
—————————————trees
——————————the smell
———————-the sound
————————–the colours
————————————so big
——————————————-oh
——————————————–sadness
————————————————-seasons
———————————————–life
————————————–changes
———————————————–new
————————————————-green
—————————————————–love
——————————————————-starting over
——————————————————————–bright
————————————————————————-fresh
———————————————————————————–Again

Me and St. Pete

a parable for the envious

There are times in my life when I love my job, there are times in my life when I hate my job, there are times in my life when my job opens my eyes to something so freakingly awesome but no matter what happens, I can never tell anyone.

Friends ask me often if I enjoy what I do, whether I’ve seen anything cool lately and/or if I can tell them of anything I’ve seen – “Y’know, blogger to blogger?”

More often than not, I respond with the following – “It’s like the old joke…”

A preacher who liked to play golf every Wednesday at a modest public golf course was standing on the elevated tee at the sixth hole of that course...

He took a few practice swings, and looked across the river to the immaculate private country club nearby.

“Just once I’d like to play at that gorgeous course,” the preacher said to his foursome.

Another player spoke up:

“My company has a reserved tee time at that club for us every Sunday morning, and it’s all paid for, too. But all of a sudden yesterday the boss says we have to travel out of town for a week. It’s a shame to let that tee time go to waste. I could give you a guest pass and you could have it all to yourself. Would do you say?”

Of course this was a dream come true for the preacher, but it put him in a terrible predicament. If he accepted the gift, he would have to miss Sunday worship. He thought to himself,

“I haven’t missed a Sunday service in 17 years of preaching. A sin to be sure, but I am after all just a man trying to do my best like all the rest.”

He succumbed to temptation and accepted the invitation.

On Sunday, the preacher awoke, called his deacon, and said, “I’m terribly sick today, and will not be able to offer service.”

“Well, we surely hope you are feeling better soon,” said the deacon. “What matters most it that your health is blessed, and we shall all pray for you today.”

This made the preacher feel a little guilty, but it was a beautiful clear cool morning, and promised to be a beautiful day. He opened a box from under the bed that had a new folded golf shirt, his cleaned and polished golf shoes, and he put them on instead of his usual clothes.

Later, on the beautiful practice green, the preacher fit right in but couldn’t help feeling conspicuous. At that exact moment up in Heaven, Saint Peter was looking down. He said to God,

“Do you see what is happening down there? I’m very disappointed in this preacher. Surely you are going to do something?”

God replied, “Don’t worry Pete, I’ve got it all figured out.”

St. Pete knew it was best not to question any further, but to just wait patiently and watch for it all to play out. He watched the preacher walk confidently to the first tee, a short par-4. The preacher teed it up, and hit a pretty fair drive, low and straight.

But just then, God waived his hand and created the perfect little wind. The wind carried the ball as if in the hand of God and lifted it down the fairway. The ball took once bounce and landed on the green, kept rolling, swung to the right, barely crept up to the hole, and fell in. It was beautiful.

Up in heaven, St. Pete was very upset.

“An albatross! Are you kidding me? Here is one of our own preachers committing this sin, on a Sunday no less. Just when I’m certain that you are going to offer up the perfect punishment to befit the sin, you instead go and reward him with a once-in-a-lifetime shot?”

God says, “Yes, but calm down Pete. Who is he going to tell?”

I love my job.
I get to see the coolest things in the world before anyone ever will.
My eternal curse is that 99.99 times out of 100?
I’m never going to be able to tell anyone.
Damn.

.

.

.

Images via Paul Clarke

Minty

01022011810

Moleskine entry: January 5th, 2011

I have a new Moleskine.
This makes me happy.

It was a gift from those lovely folk @ Mint Digital (more than likely, orchestrated by my dear friend Utku), to mark the start of 2011*
Thanks Utterz. I like it.

So. Plans for the year then? I have two. Travel and dance. Doing more of both. The former I’m working on, the latter also.

I guess if I’m completely honest with myself, one underlying goal for the year ahead would be not to share as much. For the last two years (more so than before at least) I’ve lived my life openly, on the internet – and decorated it accordingly. In the same way that one would in his own house, I shared my happiness, my joy and my deepest loves on the walls around me.

If it made me smile, or if I thought it would do the same for someone, else then I shared it. But now…?

Now the largest piece of that puzzle has disappeared and, whenever I visit this place I once called home, it is not long before I wander into a memory of times gone past. It’s not like I can even show people around; an image here, a link there, an oblique reference off to the right – it happens.

This year, whatever comes my way, I’ll be keeping a fair amount of it back (more than I did before at least anyway).

For now, that’s how things have to be.

James Whatley
5/1/11

Minty Moleskines...

So long 2010

LIke Minds Summit, Feb 2010

– Image via Scott Gould

For the first time, in a long time, I find myself standing at the precipice of a New Year, staring out at a blank canvas.

It’s exhilarating.

It scares the living hell out of me, it makes my blood pump hard and my brain can’t work and adrenaline floods my insides whenever I even begin to pause and think about it… and it aches, oh my God it aches. But.. it… is…  exhilarating. I feel alive. The possibilities now are endless.

This –

I am a snow globe.
Shake me.
Let the blizzard roar.
This is what I was made for.

The peace. The intensity. The calm in the storm. The beauty of the fall. The peace.

Come on 2011, take your best shot….

.

.

I’m ready for you.

..

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//

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