The Fragility of Life – A Reflection from 22 Years on the Front Line
For 22 years, I served in the New Zealand Police.
As the lead crisis negotiator, I was often called to the darkest moments of people’s lives.
Moments when hope was slipping, when silence screamed louder than words, when you could feel the emotions, when life hung in a delicate balance.
I have stood in rooms heavy with grief, spoken to voices trembling on the edge and witnessed the rawness of human emotion in its purest form.
I have seen lives change in an instant, fortunately it was always for the better.
And through it all, I carried my own silent battles with depression.
I wore the uniform, but beneath it was a person learning to navigate his own storms, a frightened ever-present inner- child screaming for help.
Just lately, I find myself tearing up more often. Sometimes I cry.
Not out of sadness, because something stirs deep within me.
These tears are not weakness. They are proof that I am alive. That I feel. That I care. That I am here.
The years in service taught me that life is precious, fleeting, and unpredictable.
They taught me to listen. Not just to words, but to silence.
They taught me that strength is found in vulnerability.
Today, I use what I’ve learned to help others - volunteer firefighters, people labelled with a diagnosis, and those who feel unseen.
If my journey can help even one person feel less alone, then every tear, every sleepless night, and every moment of doubt was worth it.
Life is fragile. But in that fragility lies its beauty.
Let’s talk!