For the past two years I've been selfish; I've shared stories I never thought I'd tell.
I've written about struggles, fears, mistakes, unanswered questions and some of the deepest parts of who I am.
I did it to understand myself, but also hoping it might help others understand me too.
Has it helped me? Absolutely. Has it helped you? I hope so.
Some people sent me private messages asking if I'm okay, and I love that.
Is anyone ever truly okay? I'm about as okay as I can be on this crazy roller coaster of life we all live!
To those people, thank you. Your care, compassion and concern have meant more than you know.
I'm not sharing because I need rescuing, I'm sharing because I hope it makes it easier for you to share and to be yourself.
One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that understanding ourselves is not selfish. It's often the first step toward understanding others.
This will be my last post about me. From here, I want to focus on helping others and sharing the research, insights and lessons I'm continuing to learn for my work.
Somewhere out there might be one person who reads a post and finally understands themselves a little better, just as I have.
The world is full of amazing people, and you are one of them, whether you know it or not.
The more we share who we truly are, the more permission we give others to do the same.
Our brains often see difference as danger, yet I ponder if we're all different; maybe different becomes interesting, even exciting.
Maybe we'll stop hiding the things that make us unique and start celebrating them instead.
What a wonderful world that would be.
Thank you for being part of my journey so far; now it's time for the next chapter.
Let’s talk!
How Did You Feel Safe?
As a child, I used to lie on my side in bed and rock back and forth for long periods. I rocked so much I broke three beds.
At that same time, I carried a handkerchief in my pocket and would rub the corner between my finger and thumb in small circles.
A few times people walked into my room and caught me rocking. Looking back, I imagine they wondered if I was rehearsing for The Exorcist.
The truth is that I had no idea why I was doing either.
While I rocked, I would disappear into my imagination, often seeing myself as the hero in whatever adventure my mind had created.
The rubbing of the handkerchief brought me joy, slowed my brain, and made me feel safe.
Sometimes I look back on those moments with sadness, and other times with joy, because rocking brought me comfort, calm, and a place where I felt completely at ease.
It has only been through my recent ADHD research that I've started to understand what may have been happening.
Research suggests that rhythmic movements such as rocking and repetitive actions such as rubbing a piece of fabric can help soothe the nervous system, regulate attention, and create a sense of calm and safety.
They are ways some people naturally self-soothe and manage a busy mind. Nobody understood any of this back in the day, least of all me.
Looking back now, I don't see a weird little boy.
I see a young boy who instinctively found his own way to slow the noise, find comfort, and make sense of the world around him.
If you have any behaviours that you thought were unique, drop them in the comments.
Let’s see how many people will open up.
Let’s talk!
The Greatest Compliment!
One of the greatest compliments in our work is when an organisation invites me back.
Recently, Ive had the privilege of being re-engaged by organisations we have worked with in the past, including Fulton Hogan, MIT/Unitec, Queenstown Lakes District Council, OSPRI, Te Whānau o Waipareira, Clarus and Auckland Transport.
It is something I never take for granted. In fact, when I return to an organisation after an absence, I tend to work even harder.
There is a responsibility that comes with being welcomed back. Trust is earned, never assumed. I also believe its important that organisations dont rely on a single provider for staff development and wellbeing.
Different people need different approaches and the best outcomes often come from a range of perspectives and support services working together.
A holistic approach gives people more opportunities to find what resonates with them.
To those organisations that continue to put their faith in me, thank you. Im always humbled, always grateful, and I will always show up giving 100%.
Walk A Mile In Their Shoes.
When I joined the police, our training sergeant congratulated us. He told us we had beaten thousands of other applicants to get there.
Then he said something I have never forgotten:
"You have spent years trying to get into the police; the police will spend the rest of your career trying to get rid of you."
It sounded harsh, and I was taken aback.
What he really meant was that we will be watched. Every decision, every action, every mistake, every complaint.
If you get it wrong, you will be held accountable.
After 22 years in policing, I am yet to meet an officer who hasn't been investigated at some point in their career. Most complaints never result in any finding of wrongdoing, but they are still part of the reality of the job.
When I left the police, something interesting happened. I started seeing things differently about my police career.
I began questioning some of the decisions we had made, some of the things we had been asked to do, some of the situations where we believed we were doing the right thing based on the information we had at the time.
At first, my reaction was: How could that have happened?
Then I realised something important: policing was never just about enforcing the law.
Police officers are expected to be counsellors, mediators, social workers, crisis negotiators, mental health responders, mentors, protectors, investigators, and sometimes - simply the person who turns up when nobody else will.
Most receive little formal training for many of these roles. Instead, they rely on experience, judgement, values and their own life stories to help guide difficult decisions.
Human beings, no matter how well-intentioned, do not always get those decisions right.
The older I get, the less interested I am in judging organisations from a distance. Instead, I find myself asking different questions.
Were the people well selected? Were they trained adequately? Did they have the tools and support they needed? Were they encouraged to think critically? Were they supported when they made difficult judgement calls?
Perhaps most importantly, what happened when things didn't go according to plan?
Organisations do not make decisions; people do.
People operate within systems, policies, expectations, pressures, and often incomplete information.
That doesn't remove accountability. It does, however, add understanding.
Today, I still see policing as a numbers game. The number of people helped, not the number of people arrested.
The problem is there is no box on a timesheet for the teenager you put back on track. No performance measure for the victim who finally felt heard. No code for the family who slept a little easier because someone cared enough to listen.
Before we pass judgement on any organisation, perhaps we should first understand the people within it.
Walk a mile in their shoes by understanding their training, understanding their pressures, and understanding their choices.
Let’s talk!
Motivation Is Close By.
For years I convinced myself alcohol was helping me.
It relaxed me, it helped me think, it made me more creative, it slowed my very busy brain down.
What I now realise is that it was creating silence, not clarity.
One day at the airport before a holiday, I offered my wife a glass of champagne.
She replied: No thanks. I'm going to stop drinking.
That single sentence changed my life.
The truth is, I'd wanted to stop for years; I just needed someone to prompt me.
I will always be grateful to my wife for that moment.
Giving up alcohol wasn't as hard as I expected. For decades, I had built a story around why I needed it.
Drinking helped me relax, drinking helped me cope, drinking helped me be my best.
I was wrong. Stopping alcohol did change my life forever.
I manage stress differently, my anger has reduced, I connect more deeply with people, I take on bigger challenges, and I'm learning better ways to work with my crazy brain.
Coincidence or not, business improved too.
One thing I don't miss is what I call the post-dining blues. That feeling after a night out where you're a little flat, a little foggy and not quite yourself.
Now, going out is about good conversation, connection, a clear head and waking up ready for the next day.
This isn't so much a post about giving up alcohol as it is about challenging the stories we tell ourselves.
Sometimes the motivation to change isn't found in a book or seminar; oftentimes, it's sitting right beside you at an airport saying: I'm not going to do this anymore.
Let’s talk!