HI! MY NAME IS AND I’M AN **

May 31, 2018May 31, 20181 Comment

I literally have no inclination to write at the moment. It’s not that I don’t have the time, it’s just don’t have the will. I’d be lying if I said this laissez-faire attitude hasn’t spilt over into many other projects. It’s another moment of clarity in the land of the un-routine.

I am still struggling to find normality in this rhythm of irregularity. There are literally no two days alike, from start to finish, and everything in between. Each day is an adventure, an opportunity to build something great from the freedom that lay ahead. Time is but the greatest of these, in all its undervalued glory. We cannot get it back. It can’t be saved-up or bought from the store if we run out. It is an intangible anomaly in a universe of highly accepted tangibility.

I am continually confronted with this new awareness; of time, as a finite resource. We can splish-splash in it all we want but at the end of the day, it will never be the infinity pool we so dream of. It seems a rare case where perception is not in fact reality, yet, here we are. No matter how endless the pool appears, it too is constrained by the limited supply of water, power, and caretakers to maintain it.

Instead, we are confined to an old concrete bowl of times past. This functional enclosure offers us an even spread of this ethereal substance, and like it or not, it begins leaking from the day we are born. Yes, there are things we can do to slow its materialisation. But nought can be done to prevent the inevitability of this future skate rink entirely.

Jana Payne riding the pool with confidence in the 1970s

Jana Payne riding the empty well of time.

So, here I am. Confronted daily with my inevitable doom. Face to face with this shrinking mass of water, of time, of life. It is easy to get taken aback by the bleak nature of these facts but that view will not add more hours, or gift extra days. There is no sympathetic response in denying these truths. But, by confronting them head-on, there may be a chance to plough their fields for prosperity. A filling of one’s personal bank if you like; with meaning, fulfilment, and financial reward.

It sounds so noble, doesn’t it? A life worth living. A rebuttal to the expectation that your role as a human being is bound by your economic worth. It is an actuality that has pained me my entire life. Our education system, our workplaces, the nature of big business, and the epidemic of poor management in the smaller. I have turned and twisted. Resisted with subtle and not-so-subtle force. I writhed in internal agony as the necessity of a functional and financial baseline suffocated my true hopes and dreams.

But my perspective has changed, evolved. For the first time, I truly see the benefit in those of you who stay in the world of the new normal. My inner rebellion presented so strong in the past that it pained me to see the greatness of others be suffocated by the wastefulness of the regular. It was a coping mechanism for my own inability to escape, and it manifested in a push onto those around me to do the same. ‘Come on, we can do this together! A walkout, a revolution, a heist of our own lost liberty’. But the motley array of responses were all valid. Facing the alternative, I now realise, is not something I would wish on many. If you get some enjoyment out of whatever it is you do, if you excel in your role, if you are getting paid good money, if you are not in a world of discomfort – stay. Stay as long as you goddamn can. Pursue passionate endeavours and creative ventures outside of these hours. Yes, your time may be limited and your energy depleted. But your financial ability will be plentiful and in this modern world, you must use at least part of these means to practice such worldly delights. I apologise if I ever made you feel that your pathway was not earnest. The ache was mine to own and any attempts to engineer a softened blow to my own outcomes was futile.

Me: Getting Off My High Horse

Enough deflection. Time to shoot the arrow where it belongs.
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Hello. My name is ZB and I am an alcoholic.
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I kid, I kid, I’m not really! It just rolls off the tongue so well. Sorry, back on task.
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My name is Bec and at the ripe age of 32, I have finally been diagnosed with ADHD.
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Yep, you heard it here first folks! And, unless your life has been touched in some way by this big-bag-of-unfocused-fun, you are likely to have waded through the deep sea of (mostly incorrect) assumptions. I know I was certainly guilty. I reserved these four letters for hyperactive young boys, lazy parenting, and overprescribing doctors. Because it was easy that way. And yes, I’m sure that there’s a percentage of people who fit under this umbrella of stereotypes regardless. Buuuuut, by applying these generalisations to everyone, it further reinforces the negative connotations for people who truly do struggle with this ‘disorder’. It also masks the real issues at hand, such as the high rate of missed diagnosis in young females and adults.

Let’s debunk some of the junk in the trunk, walk with me.

Potatoes-Potahtoes

The correct term is ADHD, or Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder.
The term ‘ADD’ was eliminated from the diagnostic manual back in 1987.
Some experts assert that ‘attention deficit’ is a misleading name. ‘Attention deregulation’ may be more accurate since most people with ADHD have more than enough attention — they just can’t harness it in the right direction at the right time with any consistency.¹Read: ADHD is not a damaged or defective nervous system, it is a nervous system that works well – using its own set of rules.²

Epidemiology

Meta-regression analyses estimate the worldwide prevalence of ADHD at around 6.2% for children and adolescents, and 3.4% in adults.³
Further reviews across 199 worldwide studies found no significant difference in prevalence between countries. Researchers, therefore argue that ADHD is not a cultural construct associated with a particular geographical location.³

Causes

As proven by studies of twins and families, ADHD is a highly hereditable condition. Yes! Genetic factors are the major cause of ADHD in individuals.⁴
Children whose parents have ADHD have a 40% to 60% chance of also having it. Sometimes a child’s diagnosis can be the first clue that a parent may have ADHD.⁷
Secondary factors such as lifestyle choices, personality style, toxic pollution, exercise, nutrition, socioeconomic factors, and parenting behaviour can all improve or worsen outcomes.^5,6

Diagnosis

Diagnosis in adults is not always straightforward as there is often an age-dependent change in symptoms. The older the person, the less obvious symptoms become.⁸
Furthermore, ADHD has a high rate of comorbidity, meaning that it is often present alongside other diagnoses which may cloud the symptoms.⁹
To qualify for an ADHD diagnosis, at least some of the symptoms should have been present during childhood or adolescence, even though they may not have been recognized at the time.¹⁰
The medical incidence of ADHD is equal among males and females, however, females are half as likely to be diagnosed. The reason for this stems from a range of factors including gender-specific behaviour norms, severity of symptoms and socioeconomic considerations.⁹
Multiple criteria must be established before diagnosis including the age of onset, pervasiveness, impairment (social, academic or occupational functioning), exclusionary conditions, and symptoms.
An individual must present with a minimum of 5 out of 9 symptoms if they are over 17 years (or 6 out of 9 for those under).¹² Once the criterion and symptoms are fully established, the person will be diagnosed with one of the three ‘presentations’ of ADHD. They are:

1. ADHD Predominantly Inattentive (ADHD-I)
One-third of people diagnosed will have this subtype. They might present with serious inattention problems but have minimal issues with hyperactivity/ impulsive symptoms.¹⁰ADHD-I is far less likely to be recognized by parents, teachers, psychologists and doctors so people rarely get the treatment they need with this type.^{10, 13}

Girls tend to have this type more than the others so they are less likely to be recognized as having ADHD because they are not being disruptive enough to call attention to themselves.¹⁰

2. ADHD Predominantly Hyperactive-Impulsive Type (ADHD-HI)
The hyperactive/impulsive subtype is the lowest presentation for adults with ADHD.¹⁴Children with hyperactive symptoms are difficult to ignore. The ones bouncing out of their chairs or clowning around are usually the first to be evaluated and diagnosed.¹³

3. ADHD Combined Type (ADHD-C)
Around 56% of adults with ADHD have the ADHD-Combined subtype.¹⁴ Also known as ‘a bit of column A, a bit of column B’ teehee.

Under these presentations lies a comprehensive list of singular symptoms that vary greatly from person to person. Whilst there are many effective ways of managing ADHD presently, the continual development of more individually tailored treatments is important.
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So, have you guessed my ‘type’?
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I’d like to go with contestant number three thanks Greg! Why limit yourself to one set of symptoms when you can order the lot?

I have soooooooo much more to tell you. How this all translates to my world; past tense, present tense, and how I can make it work for me not against me in the future. I’ve gone through a stupid amount of medical journals, articles, research papers, and global websites to find some real gems! I think there might be a whole other post just dedicated to the proven link between ADHD and….entrepreneurship!! Everything is starting to make sense. Stay tuned, and reach out with any questions (or messages of hope – that I too could become a ‘finisher’ one day!).

See ya round like
a rollerblade,

ZB x

Cover Image: tylerspangler.com

CHAPTER 77: A REAL DOOZY (EXPLETIVES NOT DELETED)

June 2, 2017December 13, 2018Leave a comment

I’m having an off day. A real doozy. One of those ones that I should really keep to myself. But if you want vulnerability; give vulnerability – right? I’m going to say that it began last night but realistically it’s probably been brewing for a while. Heck, it’s probably being brewing my whole life if you ask any good expert. Anyway, let’s move on to introductions. I was hoping that you guys wouldn’t meet but he’s resurfaced again and the timing is really bloody inconvenient. I’m hoping that by getting it out in the open, he might – well, fuck off. I have an important and unfinished Masters assignment that is currently sitting open and staring blankly at me. It understands the notion of timing and has advised that there is exactly 55 hours left until it gets handed in regardless of my doozy or old friend…so here goes.

Meet Chip. He’s a real asshole. He hasn’t been around for a while but at some points in my life, he was around for too long. He likes to sit on my shoulder and weigh me down heavily. He points out how hard done by I am, how hard life is and how unlucky I’ve been. He used to visit often but I figured him out a while back and told him to hit the road. He did. But occasionally he comes back to visit. Sometimes I don’t mind his company in small doses. He props himself up on my shoulder and begins whispering his views about the world. Always without solution. What a drainer. Nonetheless I let him go if he doesn’t pipe up too much. You know; acknowledge, move on, don’t cause too much of a scene. He’s not that bad really but every time he pays me a visit in recent years, he puts out an open invite to his other annoying mates. Many of whom, I am not cool with.

He has this one friend we’ve spoken about before – Imposter, who I just can’t seem to shake. As Chips visits die down, Imposter’s seem to be on the rise. How is this possible? If you’re leaving – take your friend’s with you. Yes, friend’s – plural. Let’s just say, no trio would be complete without a polar opposite to balance out the torment. This friend is like a Tornado; overtly confident, recklessly passionate and full of beans. He/she enters the room with full force and no matter how much I duck or weave; it is inevitable that we will collide. During this time I am overcome by false greatness. I don’t aim for the moon and reach the stars; I aim for the Milky Way and end up in another parallel fucking universe. Here, my disillusionment is completely normal, reinforcing a wake of unbelievable beliefs.

What the fuck am I saying.

Ok. So you know that I am in a ‘transition period’ currently. What a gross combination of words. I’m having a ‘life pivot’, a ‘nervous breakthrough’, a ‘period of not achieving on a societal score board’. I am proudly full steam ahead with the bigger picture goals; storytelling, boutique accommodation plans (another day), completing of a post-graduate degree, perhaps even opening a new coworking space…but. Inevitably, the short-term has caught up with me and the freight train that is financial responsibilities is steaming ahead with no signs of slowing. Perhaps I’m exaggerating, apologies. But you know, Chip is in town, and he has this effect. So anyway, the artistic freedom and joy that I am currently moving through must be balanced with actual paying work, stat. But I am obsessing and stalling and over thinking and fretting like a mutha fucker. Some days I spent hours and hours fixating on job sites. No industry categories, just a few geographical and time sensitive filters. So I am scouring like five or six sites daily, scrolling through hundreds of options. I know what you’re thinking – fucking refine!! But I don’t want to. I don’t want to be limited to one industry or one job type. I want to be open to a completely new chapter. One that I am passionate about. I don’t want to waste any more of my life being underemployed. It served its purpose but my heart cannot take it anymore. I’m not being picky. I’m being purposeful. So far, it’s been disastrous. Just to be clear, I am very aware of the three types of roles that are open to us all. I could get…

A job – it might be on the pathway to a career or vocation but generally, you are paid for your time rather than your skills. Oh my gosh. That hurts to write. I know this one too well. I even managed to climb the ‘job ranks’ and get paid reasonably well which kept the self-perpetuating cycle of staying in the ‘job’ drawn out even longer.

A career – requires much more time commitment either through qualifications or on the job training. The longer you spend specialising in a specific area; the more likely you are to have greater responsibilities and pay. I think this is where I have fucked up majorly. Yet it could never have been any other way. I spent so much time doing job’s that I didn’t love – that I ended up making a career out of an occupation that I have zero fucking interest in. Ouch.

A vocation – working ‘mecca’ if you will. A position that brings immense satisfaction. A calling, a lifelong partnership, fulfilment, purpose, meaning. They say that a lot of the time, these ‘vocations’ are selfless works. People helping people, people helping animals, people helping the environment. You may be familiar with one of these if it applies to you. A vocation has also been described as the innate ability in an individual towards a particular occupation. I like that definition.

So this makes it easy then; stop being so fussy and find a job that pays the bills asap? Bzzzzz wrong. I just can’t. I have this blockage. I literally cannot apply for something that I don’t believe in, not even at a ‘job’ level. I have to have some sort of appetite for the product or the brand or the role. But that can be something as simple as pouring delicious, craft beers – in this regards, I really am-not fussy. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty, picking or packing, pouring or storing. I’m not looking for a ‘sexy’ job (though there could be some cash in that field hehe). I am open to stumbling across a job, career, or vocation. But as I want to keep my entrepreneurial snowballs rolling, I consciously made the decision not to look for or apply to any ‘jobs’ or ‘careers’ that weren’t part-time. Like we’ve discussed; a part time role will offer structure and financial benefits but without wholly consuming my entire life and energy sources.

But I do have exceptions. Of course, life is uncertain so a healthy level of flexibility is a must. If a ‘vocation’ role was to come up; of course, I would throw my invisible rule book out the window. So let’s just say that a week ago, one did. It snuck into my part-time filter and blew me away with the best role description I’ve ever seen. It was perfect. An aspirational role that I felt fully and wholly capable of blowing out of the park. I wanted to be the best goddamn *insert role title* that the industry had ever seen. And I would have been. I would have set new benchmarks, led with great esteem, and helped grow this unbelievable social SME into a global powerhouse.

Except for one problem. I didn’t even get to interview stage. Huh? Well on paper, it looks like I have zero fucking experience in this field. And doggone, I think they’re right. I don’t. So why the fuck did I apply? Because I have the soft skills to slay this role. I have a robust emotional vocabulary. I have an insatiable curiosity about people. Why do you think I am doing a Master of Marketing? Not because I believe I can be the best advertiser or researcher or communicator the world has ever seen. But because I am fascinated with human behaviour and decision-making and the power of brands to influence. I am doing an intensive post grad degree so that I have options to continue my studies further down the track in my passion areas of psychology, sociology, anthropology and philosophy.

I know my strengths and weaknesses. And I am crystal clear on the trough that is – my resume. I understand that I have a wealth of experience across a spectrum of impressive areas, few of which match up to my current passions or future aspirations. I am vulnerable (see above text). I think I am a good judge of character and continually improving as the years go on. I see people blindly regardless of their physicality’s or specs on paper. I see their motivations and desires. Their behaviours when everyone is watching and especially when everyone is not. I take a complete 360 view of each individual before I begin to draw a picture of them. I love pushing them to greatness; ironing out creases, jumping hurdles alongside them, offering a hand up to the podium, and clapping loudly when they are rewarded for effort.

I get results. But I haven’t been measuring. It’s inauthentic to me. But it comes at a cost. I am now unable to leverage these occurrences for my own future growth. If one where to look over my job titles, they would rightfully not see the coaching, the hard conversations, the strategic influence, the deep relationships, the radical inclusion or the benefit I have brought to the teams I have worked in. Get them to be my references? It’s not that easy. For deep, authentic work often goes on behind the scenes, inside and outside of workplaces. It is a powerful yet subtle occurrence. It is unseen though heavily impactful. It is fulfilling for both the giver and the receiver.

So what now? I applied for a job that I have the skills to do but not the qualifications or experience for and I didn’t even get close. I’m not going to lie, it stings. But I get why. But it still stings. Ok. So I needed to get this all out so that I can get my head back in the game. I need Chip, the Imposter, and that overly confident (or delusional) Tornado to fuck off so I can regroup with what I’ve got and move forward. Because that is the biggest risk. Not in applying for jobs, careers or vocations that are beyond my paper limits, but in getting caught up in the expected and unexpected results when things don’t go my way. Pick yourself up, dust yourself and move fucking forward. Chip is heavy when I’m still but he can barely hold on when I’m moving forward. Weeeeeeeeeeee.

I’m trying to be patient. There is a universal plan with my name on it and with some level of hope, these setbacks are all a part of it. That dream role would have taking me away from my storytelling and maybe my storytelling is going to be a bigger part of the picture than I realise? Goddamn it storytelling, why can’t you be more provocative?! Dance for the people, make them realise how important you are to the world even though you aren’t all colourful and flashy. Your slow gratification is fulfilling but they’re looking for a quick fix. And help pay some of my bills while you’re at it. I’m giving you my time and abilities, will there come a day when you give me more than mental and artistic progression? Why isn’t there more ‘writers in residence’? Is that even a thing? How unsexy. Imagine that; boutique hotel has scribbles of paper all over the walls, writer sits in a glass room scrawling pointless ramblings down at a rate of knots whilst people watch on and try to disseminate the quiet, incoherent mumblings.

Lordy. 2000 words and I’m still not sure I can get back to my assignment. It’s going to be a long few days. Maybe I need to take this website off my resume?? Eep!!

Zig x

Chapter 31: A New Dream

April 5, 2017April 6, 2017Leave a comment

And so it came to pass, that the aspirational lifestyle no longer served its purpose. It was time to move on. To regroup together as mind, body and soul – and ask ourselves what was giving us energy and what was draining us so. Together we twisted and contorted, turned left and then right. We got angry and frustrated. We got depressed and empty. We did our very best to squeeze our square little selves into the roundest of round holes. Although the roles began as somewhat fulfilling, the long-term sticking point came from the people. There were laughs and banter. A collective common as we fought to utilise our greatest strengths and squash the bits that strayed outside of the lines. We rode the highs together and we bonded strongly during the lows. We flowed together as a pool of conflicting personalities – all heading in the same direction but crashing and rebuilding through our own personal rapids. We worked hard, we were accountable. There was a pride in our work, our product. There was an openness of speech and humility in response. There were people driven by ego and there were lots that were not. I enjoyed it for the most part but it was time for growth, autonomy and new connections. It was time for the next chapter.

I never wanted to work in “corporate” growing up. I never dreamt that I would spend 5 days a week sitting on my ass in front of a machine that would dominate my every waking hour. I never dreamt that life would become a chore – a never-ending day of the same routine. Wake up tired, drag myself to some sort of physical activity, transit amongst other sick and depressed looking people, work passionately and longingly to build someone else’s dream – usually Shareholders of some sort – go home exhausted, not effectively communicate with my husband, drown out the pain with low functioning TV or aspirational personal work till the wee hours, toss and turn through the night with ghosts of lives past, rinse, cycle, repeat.

God. When you put it like that, it’s a wonder I ever made it out of bed at all. And to be honest, most days I barely did. I was a walking zombie. One for whom coffee was not an option. I couldn’t even drug myself to function on the required level. So one day I decided to sleep when I could, in the morning. And so I started a bit later and my productivity levels and serotonin drastically lifted. Once I got past the judging looks of those early risers and at worse, my own inner demons – I didn’t look back. Feeling more balanced that I had in years. It was a credit to my final managers that this change in routine was never questioned. Finally an evolution in perception, where the quantity and quality of work completed at last outweighed the insignificance of hours in the chair.

My corporate alter ego – Zombie Rob.

So if this was never the dream, then why was I here so many years later? Well, why do you think? Remuneration was not a desire but a survival factor. I was out on my own, paying to put a roof over my head at 17 and food on the table which no longer magically appeared each time I sat down. I had started in different industries but a series of unfortunate events had led me to the environmental and financial stability of the modern working office. I was lucky enough to work for some fun brands, national and international icons but at the end of the day, once you have spent enough time anywhere – it is no longer about the sport, the art, or the fun – it becomes about the bottom line. Or sometimes the poor management. Or the archaic patriarchal structures that has served these companies for generations past. I dug my heels in occasionally, speaking up for change and fairness. I was met with looks of shock or admiration depending on the evolution of the individual. It was often empowering. Often disheartening. Often frustrating. Efficiency, workplace progression, fairness – these were all things that the machine did not have room for. Unless you had a fancy title, then suddenly these words had more power. Or at the very least, the person’s hearing them, heard them with more intensity.

I can hear the chip on my shoulder as my thoughts spill out. I would be lying if I said there was no damage done. But it is not for me to blame an individual, a team, a company, or the social and business structures that have allowed our world to revolve around an economic model that has left us modern slaves to high salaries. The perfect picture has been painted in this lucky country we call Australia and it involves coming home late to your children and losing contact with your friends because you no longer have the time or energy to give back to yourself. We put so much of our energy and effort keeping the beast turning over. We feed it our blood, sweat and tears so that it can continue to grow year on year. For it can never be big enough. It can never stop growing. It will never grow so large that it self implodes, spilling out expired executives and oozing out the skeletons of the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed people that entered so long ago.

Or will it? We are at the start of a global revolution where the user-generated economy is taking an axe to previously dominated industries. This wave of startups and change makers finally have the technology to harness a scale that was never before possible. And as it does, not only will there be a somewhat re-balancing act of the ants and elephants…but it will allow the next wave of workplace robots to evaluate what they value most and hedge their bets accordingly.

I hedged some great bets. I was gifted safety, security, stability. I had some truly great workplaces, worked with more capable people than I care to remember, attended some great events, led some big projects, and made many people feel supported directly or not. But with every action comes a reaction and so it has come that my actions and reactions are screaming for change. It is time to try something different. I walked out full of beans. With big plans and a full agenda of extra curricula activities to maintain momentum and continue on the path of saving the world from itself through education and evolution of the mind.

The new dream – how good are burritos!

It is less than a week into this new life before the first hurdle strikes. The reality that an overly ambitious deadline has been long missed is accompanied by a hasty reminder that hopes-and-dreams are no match for execution-and-action. So after a few days of mixed emotion and energy resetting, I find a present moment where I can be grateful for the space to do this. To allow the natural timeline needed for the ups and downs of life is but the greatest gift of all. There is time for healing, energy for physical and mental exertion where only you are the beneficiary, there is an openness and a longing for awe – something large in scale and nature to take our breath away and remind us that our problems are not so but thinking makes them this way.

In a “normal” set of events, we would rush through these moments – parking them in the back closet along with those elusive “stress” responses, our deepest fears, and our greatest ambitions. There is no time to consider these things as real and unique to us. There are presentations to build, children to feed and idiots in the traffic to yell at. Our energy is great in its form but it is constantly projected out to those we work for, those we love, and those we love to hate. We give this energy willingly because it feels normal. But it is us who have normalised it. We have chosen paths and words and responsibilities that mean we will forever be tied to offloading our energy for the benefit and detriment of those around us.

But this energy is ours. It can be harnessed and utilised. It can be focused and channeled, and streamlined for our benefit. And when this happens, guess what? We benefit those around us so much more. It is an old sentiment. We know it to be true. But who has time to implement it, let alone give it the head space for implementation? It is much easier to agree and then walk away. Until the next article or study comes out and we nod in agreement again and walk away all the same. Without this time and energy to strategically think about our own lives, we will always continue on the same trajectory. A comfortable path that cocoons us in paid bills, the odd “escape”, and the nice feeling we get when we know that we are colouring in between the lines.

Me post-corporate; not colouring in the lines with my “new addition” (sorry Mum).

So I cannot stay in this openness forever. Or can I? The day will come when I too have bills to pay, where the safety net I have placed below will no longer carry the weight of my living costs and when my husband decides that my old mentality of “spending” is not catching up fast enough with my current lifestyle budgeted for “minimalism”. Maybe on this day, I will be moved to find an intermediate space. One where I do not re-enter the beast and its temptations nor give into a life of debt and social isolation. I have many balls in the air, and am hoping that one or all of them land in a place that brings reward – be it personal, spiritual, financial or inspirational. I would ask you to wish me luck but if I’ve learnt anything, it’s that you have to make your own luck. But I’m superstitious so go on, wish me luck anyway!

Zig x

Childlike Wonder

February 4, 2017February 5, 2017Leave a comment

I have been thinking a lot lately about childlike wonder. Not so much its occurrence in the young but more so its absence in the old…er.

To me, childlike wonder encompasses so many wonderful things. It is first and foremost an insatiable curiosity and interest. It is expressed in questions and found down rabbit-holes. It does not care for your preconceptions nor expectations. Childlike wonder quite often sets its own rules yet surprisingly, never blurs its boundaries into hurt or pain. For childlike wonder is born out of love and purity. It is honest and creative, allowing itself to be expressed in both rainbows and rainclouds. It does not pretend to be pretty yet it is not afraid to be pretty either.

My childhood wonder had unbelievable artistic merit. It scribbled and painted, and got messy often. It wore things in the wrong order in the wrong sizes in the wrong patterns; it was a trend forecaster. It asked a lot of questions, read a lot of books and at times; made lots of silly jokes. My childhood wonder was a performer but it did not always perform. It would sing and dance and pull faces. It would burp out loud and laugh hysterically for minutes after. My childhood wonder was hilarious. And confident. And stupidly happy.

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So where the fuck did it go?

Did I lose it in the sleepy coma that was my middle teens? Did I lend it to a friend drunkenly at some party and forget to get it back? Did it slowly seep away from me over the course of 20 years when I stopped making time for it and acknowledging its presence? I mean, that’s where yours went right? It got left in our former chapters prior to corporate jobs and mortgages and parenthood planning?

The process has been so long and unconscious that mostly I think, we do not realise it. I mean, every three months we fill in half a page in a colouring in book – so we must still have it, right? Or last year, when we spent six months on that project at work coming up with the next “big thing” – I mean, that was pretty spontaneous? No matter that we were beaten to market twice, we were just unlucky. Or how about the other day when we spent a whole 20 minutes making things out of dough with the kids….a whole 20 minutes!!

We often try to reach into this mythical bag of ‘wonder’ as adults for more often than not, we find the bag is empty. Or it is hard to find in our busy schedule. Or perhaps we have just put it down for a while but we have every intention of picking it up tomorrow, or the next day, or just once this busy period at work is over.

But in doing so, in not finding or utilising our Wonder – we miss out.

We miss out on the messiness and the joy and the fulfillment that our Wonder brings us. We miss out of the effects of our Wonder’s flow, how it seems to make time stop altogether. Wonder is immersive and welcoming. Wonder doesn’t worry about deadlines or schedules. It doesn’t care if you’ve done your make up or had a shave that day. Wonder is accepting and all-consuming, and Wonder really hopes you wear your gumboots or neon tutu or whatever the heck else you want to wear that day. Because Wonder doesn’t care for material things. Wonder just wants you to be happy in whatever sparkly outfit allows you and your Wonder to function best in.

I haven’t made any hard or fast goals for 2017 (yet) but I have made a conscious commitment to bring more childlike wonder back into my life. I want to be more creative, more ‘artsy’, I want to write more, I want to get messy, pick up a paintbrush and maybe wear some sparkly bits on my face one day. I want to get lost in fun activities and I don’t want to feel guilty about spending time with my Wonder. I don’t want to be thinking about emails or deadlines or to do lists or chores or tomorrow. I want to get absorbed in the moments spent with my Wonder where time has no meaning and we ebb and flow through works that we love, or kinda love, or don’t love at all; a time where we don’t give up on each other.

Of course I am fearful. My material brain fears time spent on things that don’t make money. Not for indulgence but as a basic survival instinct. But I must train my brain to see the intangible value offered in watercolour, or the connection that 1000 words may bring, or the personal fulfilment and satisfaction found in a completed creative project. And who knows; maybe the two are not diametrically opposed. Maybe in fully giving in to my childlike wonder and creativity, something entrepreneurial may be born. Lord knows of the many that have gone before and the many that are still to join the industries of freedom and spirit and letting their Wonder’s loose.

I hope I have the courage to not second guess my Wonder. For whilst my Wonder is a brave soul, I am not so. Together, we will sail the high waters of expectation and judgement, and crash heavily through waves of instability and self doubt; finally surpassing the storms of social expectation and magnification. Together, we will transition into the calmer waters of childlike wonder – where we will charter all obstacles together; arm in spaghetti-bracelet arm. For we both know that when we arrive on the other side, there will be boundless amounts of purpose leaving us with nothing but feelings of overwhelming joy and fulfilment.

Love Ziggy + her Wonder x

The Art of Being Wrong

July 23, 2016May 24, 2017Leave a comment

Being wrong is an art-form that most of us are yet to master.

I don’t think I am exceptionally great at it though admission is the first step, right? It’s not that I necessarily hate being wrong. It’s just that I truly believe I’m right a lot of the time. Even when there is a high chance, I’m not. Let’s me introduce you to our ol’ friend, Motivated Reasoning.

Motivated reasoning is an emotion-biased decision making phenomenon where people form and cling to false beliefs despite overwhelming evidence stating the contrary. In other words, rather than search rationally for information that either confirms or disconfirms a particular belief, people actually seek out information that confirms what they already believe.

Julia Galef gives a great TED talk on this topic. She explains how motivated reasoning finds it’s way into most of our lives through the decisions we make about our health, our relationships, what we think is fair and ethical, the sports teams we follow and the political parties we support. The most troublesome part of this biased way of thinking is that we do it unconsciously, even when we think we are being objective.

This reminds me of the documentary, ‘Making A Murder’, which took the world by storm last year. I wonder how much motivated reasoning played into the trials of the suspects in question. What about the huge religious, political and race issues we are seeing around the world? Is this believing your own bullshit on a mass scale? It’s definitely got to be a factor.

Still, there is hope for change. Julia describes an alternate way of decision making known as “Scout Mindset” as the key to this evolution. This way of thinking is not about winning or losing but about getting the most accurate picture of what’s really happening, even when it’s unpleasant or inconvenient. Watch her talk for the full picture.

So, do you have a Soldier or a Scout Mindset? As Julia described, Soldiers tend to prefer defensiveness and tribalism, and can be devaluing of people who change their opinions. Scouts are curious and open, they are intrigued with things that test their own beliefs and I think most importantly, are grounded; their self worth is not tied to being right or wrong.

I think it’s nice to imagine that we are all Scouts just going about our lives but realistically, if we crucially examine our interactions and belief systems, we may find ourselves more aligned to the Soldier mindset than we realise. To shift this way of thinking, we must practice being proud to be wrong and continue to open our minds to information that may contradict our current belief and value systems.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motivated_reasoning
Begley, Sharon. “Lies of Mass Destruction,” Newsweek (US). August 25, 2009.
Redlawsk, D. P.; Civettini, A. J. W.; Emmerson, K. M. (2010). “The Affective Tipping Point: Do Motivated Reasoners Ever “Get It”?”. Political Psychology 31 (4): 563.

A LIFE WITH PURPOSE

Tag: EQ