Jeez, it’s been a month since I last blogged. I’ve missed it from time to time over the month, but life has been so full-on I haven’t had the brain-space for clearly-worded thoughts!

Life has been really busy, but in that ‘awesome moving things forward’ kind of way, so it’s been exciting and good.

We are getting a new kitchen installed in a couple of weeks. We planned our kitchen not long after we bought the place just over a year ago, and it feels great to finally be putting our plans into action. The kitchen lay-out isn’t really changing at all – we like that it is semi-open plan, but still tucked out of the way when we are in the living room. We are getting all new cupboards and drawers, benches, cooktop and oven, fridge. I think it’s going to look amazing!

I’ve been training for the Christchurch Marathon 10km event. It’s been nice to have something to aim for when I’m running, it pushes me and keeps me focused. I ran a really good 8km last weekend, and a 10km today. My legs felt great and it was a nice smooth run. I’m looking forward to next Sunday.

We’ve been really busy socially too, lots of different events and fun things to do – movies and dinners and what-not.

And then there’s been heaps of skating, little trips here and there, Bronwen just started playing ice hockey, not to mention busy busy busy at work (but in a good way, interesting fun stuff).

It almost feels like we are spiraling up out of the holding pattern we’ve been in for the last year or so, finally moving all our little plans and dreams forward. Slowly slowly we are making progress.

Most people spend most of their time with other people. I’m not sure I was adequately prepared for dealing with the complexities of these relationships. Nowadays the school curriculum focuses more attention on equipping children with the emotional skills needed to manage and maintain good relationships, which is great … but doesn’t really help me navigate my relationships as an adult.

I’m guessing most people learn about relationships from their parents and siblings – how to communicate, look after each other, express love, resolve conflict – so if you had good role models, you’re probably doing okay. Me on the other hand, let’s just say I’ve had to make it up as I’ve gone along.

Luckily I’ve had my wits about me these past 20-or-so years so I’ve picked up a few clues by watching others. Here’s a few of the things I’ve learned:

• Treat your family as you would someone you’ve just met and really like. 
• Pause before you take the next action or say the next word. 
• Try to see things from the point of view of the other person. Their thoughts or actions probably make perfect sense to them. 
• Sometimes it’s better to be happy than right (no matter how much you want them to know you’re right!).
• Tell your loved ones you love them. You might not get the chance tomorrow. 
• Love is an action, not just a word. You can show you care in a 1000 small ways every day. 
• You are a champion and cheerleader of your familymembers – remember you’re on the same side. 
• Relationships don’t just happen – you have to work at them everyday. If it’s a good relationship, it won’t feel like hard work. 

Now, I’m not saying I actually do all these things, but I do aspire to them.

What have you learned along the way?

I’ve resumed running around my neighbourhood this week, and have noted changes in the month I was away.

When we left to go on our honeymoon, one of the things I was really looking forward to was driving on flat roads with no road cones. Road cones are a constant reminder to me of what has happened since February last year. I suspect that there are more road cones in Dallington today than there are people.

It’s great that work is being done on our underground pipes, don’t get me wrong. I love having a flush toilet and clean drinking water. But every day when I leave the house, I have to think carefully about how I’m going to get out of the suburb. Every few days the road cones are reconfigured and new streets are blocked off. This week our street has become a ‘residents only’ zone. We zig-zag through the road cones to make our escape for the day.

And then there is the red zone – the vast area of 5000 or so houses on land that has been deemed too damaged to repair. More than half of these houses are now empty. The weeds are growing up through the cracks in the pavements (waist high in some places!), lawns are becoming jungles, the potholes are holding their ground. I estimate around 5% of the houses have already been demolished.

I know one day I’ll live in a beautiful parkland with a lovely river flowing through it, native birds and plants as far as the eye can see. But for now, the place is a wreck and it makes me sad. I want it to be over, and it hasn’t even really begun yet.

In the book ‘About A Boy’, Nick Hornby talks about living his life by units. Each task is allocated units of time to make his day more manageable:

“I find the key is to think of a day as units of time, each unit consisting of no more than thirty minutes. Full hours can be a little bit intimidating and most activities take about half an hour. Taking a bath: one unit, watching Countdown: one unit, web-based research: two units, exercising: three units, having my hair carefully disheveled: four units.”

It’s a sensible way of thinking about each day. When my day looks too long, too busy, or even too empty to manage, I focus just on the bit I’m in right now, and work on getting through – or making the most of – the moment I’m in.

The past few weeks have been long and stressful, each one more difficult than the last – stress has a cumulative effect. So I started this week tired, and as it drew on, I was more so. I had a lot to do, a lot to think about, and not a lot of time.

When my life is like this (and thankfully it’s not usually) I remind myself that life is an endurance event. There are difficult bits and easier bits, and the trick is to get my head down and get through the tough bits the best I can. I try to slow down, stay focused on what’s in front of me, and keep my eye on the horizon. Everything ends eventually, the trick is to keep moving forward.

As Winston Churchill once said, “when you’re going through hell, keep going!”

We’ve come to Queenstown for a wee break this weekend. The idea was that we both worked over the Christmas break (I had a few days off, Stephen only the stats) and then take a long weekend once the Christmas / New Year crowd had passed. It was a great idea! It’s quiet in Queenstown, but not too quiet – we still have plenty of people to watch (one of our favourite pastimes).

Having a holiday now also breaks up the time until we go on our honeymoon to the UK. Its now only 7 weeks until we go, and it’s been a lovely little treat to help pass the time.

We’ve done very little here. Often our holidays are action-packed – there is always so much to see and do! But this break has been very laid back. All we’ve really done is hang out at that hotel, ate and drunk coffee at a whole range of cafes, and wander around looking at everything. We did stumble upon the gondola and luge yesterday, so we gave that a whirl. Fun!

And now we are sitting in the Koru Lounge waiting for our flight home – back to reality. It’s going to be a very busy few weeks before we go away, and I feel very grateful that we can take these mini-breaks here and there when we get the chance.

Did I ever mention how much I love to travel?   I love every part of it.

I love deciding what to take – making mental lists of outfits to pack, maximising the mix-and-match top and bottom options.

I love the throwing everything in a suitcase and zipping it closed emphatically.

I love the feeling of adventure as I say ‘See ya!’ to home and start putting myself into the place I’m going.

I love checking in, dropping my bags, zooming for my gate (I don’t especially love the security bit, but it’s all part of the deal).

I love settling into my seat. Airplane mode, check. iPad iPhone magazine drink bottle, check, check check, check.

I love take offs, landings, and the bits in between.

I love arriving at my new place, jumping in a cab or onto a train, figuring out how to get there.

And I especially love hotel rooms (I told you about this already, remember?).

And then I love packing up and moving out. Heading home. Winging my way back to my family, who are always happy to see me and to hear about my adventures.

Going away makes me love coming home.

I got a new tattoo for my birthday. It’s on my left wrist and it says I AM in big bold letters. It’s something I’ve wanted to get for a long time, and using it to mark the last year of my 30s seemed about right.

It has multiple meanings and they are a little hard to describe in words. But let me give it a try.  First and foremost, the letters represent myself and my children.

i = me

a = Antony

m = Megan

And then connected to this is a statement of the nature of my being. I am. I am who I am because of their existence. They are all tangled up with the person I am. I know, it’s pretty deep.

Who am I? This question is not answered by the tattoo. Because I am … lots of things to lots of people. Who I am has changed so much in the past few years. My tattoo reminds me of this. I want to keep changing and growing. It reminds me not to be afraid of the future because I will develop into the person I am in that future. But I am also the person I’ve always been too. I am ever-changing, but I am also me to my core. Told you, it’s hard to put into words.

It also reflects one of my very favourite paintings: Victory Over Death 2, by Colin McCahon.

And finally the letters are specifically in Helvetica bold 18 point font. It’s my favourite font. Yes I have a favourite font. Yes I am a nerd (and technically it’s a typeface, but you know what I mean).

It’s a beautiful and infinitely usable font. In fact it is one of the most well used fonts around. You’ve seen it all over the place without even realizing it. Helvetica is used a lot in advertising – it’s used in the logo for American Airlines, Lufthansa, 3M, Mitsuishi, Panasonic, and Microsoft. More importantly, it is the basic font for Apple’s operating system. It even has a movie dedicated to exploring its delicious roundy-ness. And now it’s on my wrist.

I’ve been thinking a lot about historic places lately. As you do, when you live in Christchurch. I was shocked when I heard that the spire of the Christchurch Cathedral had come down, and that the building was badly damaged, possibly beyond repair. It is Christchurch’s most iconic building.

But then as it sunk in, I reflected that I didn’t mind so much if it wasn’t there any more. Part of me thought, “good, let’s move on”. The church is a part of our past, a very important one. But to be completely honest, I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t part of my future city. I know that many many people disagree with this, but I always thought it was ugly. I think we can do better.

And when I look around at some of the other buildings that are going or gone, I feel the same way. They were draughty, un-green, impractical, dangerous buildings. Beautiful to look at, but not really all that much fun to live or work in. Need a new data cable or air conditioning unit? No worries, you’ll just need to drill through half a metre of double-brick. Brick, as it turns out, that wasn’t as sturdy as it looked. Trying to get out of one of those old buildings when your life depends on it is worryingly difficult.

 

I do feel sad about the loss of some of the buildings. The Christchurch Basilica brought tears to my eyes. But every time I read about the tragic destruction of these old buildings, and how we have to save them no matter what the cost, I can’t help thinking, “why?”

They are part of our heritage, but then so are a lot of things. When my Nana died, I had to let her go. She’s no less part of my history and I’ll always remember her, but I had to move on. I found new people to admire. People who shape the future me. I think we should to the same with our buildings.

Document them, remember them, but now they are dead, let them be gone. Grieve for them, and then let’s move on. We’ve got a city to rebuild.

It’s been almost three weeks now since Steve Jobs died. He’s been memorialised in a thousand different ways by the media and by his family, friends, colleagues and fans. Until now I haven’t had the words to express how I feel. His death has felt very personal to me. If you know me well (or really, at all), you know what a huge Apple fan I am.

Apple is written indelibly on my life (and on my body). I spend most of my day using Apple products and I love them. Some people think its weird to declare love for overpriced inanimate technology. It doesn’t love me back, but I don’t care.

My iPhone, my iPad, my Mac Mini, AppleTV, iPod Nano ease me through my everyday. They keep me entertained, allow me to connect with the people I like and love, let me do my job on the run. And, as Steve says, they just work. They feel right and they look good. So yes, I’m an Apple fan.

And Steve Jobs was Apple. He was clearly a driven, visionary man. He made amazing things happen in the world of technology. Most people probably don’t even really think about how much he and Apple changed the computing landscape. Just in my lifetime, I saw it move forward in fits and starts, then leaps and bounds. I admire Steve greatly as an inventor and businessman.

Steve’s death is sad for other reasons too. He died of cancer, like Simon did. Well before his time. When I heard how sick Steve was, and then of his passing, the only think I could think was, “what a waste”. He had so much more to offer the world. He wasn’t done! I thought the same about Simon. What a waste of an incredibly clever man.

I can image what his wife and kids have been through the past few months. Cancer wears a person away slowly and it’s really hard to watch. So it feels really personal for me.

Apple will go on. It will make more insanely great products, and I’ll probably buy most of them. But I’ll always be sad that Steve isn’t there to give us “one more thing”.