She doesn’t actually have my eyes. Not this daughter, anyway. Mine are blue, her’s are brown. She’s borrowed. All of my children are, for now. It’s a gift I often speak of, the joy of having young people in your life. I’m lucky to be able to count dozens of them, most of them adults now and enough new ones coming into this world each year to keep my heart full. Too many to name, but each one a blessing.
Still, when I think of this one in particular, I think, “Daughter – you wear my name, those are my eyes, keep them raised“. It’s a lyric from a Jakob Dylan song called ‘War Is Kind’. And the name I have to give her, is Courage.
You can read all about Brylee’s story here but the short story is, after multiple setbacks, my sweet girl finally landed in Sydney to attend the prestigious Brent Street dance school just a few weeks ago. It’s been a long journey that started many years ago.
My girl is tough and kind. She’s going to have a strong, robust character with grit and warmth to her. She’ll always find it easy to make friends but she’s not all the way there yet. She’s not done baking, so to speak.
My friend Marko is a pretty smart chap. He said to me at the end of 2014, over a cigar in a Zen backyard in San Diego (one of my favourite places on earth).. “You know, you’re at a stage of life when you should still be learning in whatever environment you’re in.”
It’s pretty damn good advice and a good situation to be in at 35 years, to have someone prepared to remind you, you should still push yourself into learning environments. So when I think about Brylee, I hope and pray I’ve encouraged her to do what I try to do, hopefully to do it better. To take every opportunity as a learning chance, diving deep into the marrow of life and to keep learning, no matter where you are.
If I’ve done anything as a mentor and friend, I hope it’s been to encourage young people in establishing their voice, committing themselves to constant learning, evolution and most importantly, the courage to do those things ongoingly.
If there is one thing more I have to give Brylee, it’s courage to face her fears. Courage to face loneliness, insecurity and doubt. Courage to push through the toughest of lessons, even when they come around again and again. Funnily enough, when it came time to write those words down for her… all I had was a story. A story of the women I come from; tough, resourceful and resilient women who have been brave in many aspects of life – from solo mums, missionaries, oppressed housewives and many more. I come from a line of women who have grit and warmth and so I invited her into it; my surrogate, adopted daughter.
The funny thing is, I’m trying to give this lineage to her at the very same time as trying to grasp it myself. I think that’s magical, though. All that has come to me through mentors, teachers and family I’m trying to live and work out alongside a young woman who will be braver, stronger, kinder and tougher than I. We are forging this path together. We are making a way for each other.
So I wrote to her, the story of the family lineage I’m offering her, on top of the wonderful family she has. And then I wrote some advice – the kind of advice that I’ve received and the stuff that’s worth passing on. Even a few pieces entirely my own.
Your life is about to get really practical and hard. So promise me that you won’t lose the mystery and wonder and the possibility of ‘what if?’. And remember, that you come from a line (even by adoption!) of strong, capable women who push through when they get scared or intimidated. You have grown up capable and brave. Remember that we are all cheering you on, a family of women who are immensely proud of you but also pushing you on to cross over borders and boundaries for us. We have all pushed through our own to open up paths for you. Don’t forget that……
Remember your spirituality. I’m not talking about religion and you know that, right? Still, I hope that you’ll remember you are more than a body and mind and heart. There is something bigger in the universe and the more connected to it you are, the easier it will be to know yourself, to trust your instincts and to make your way on the earth. So take time out, even if it’s just to ask questions and write a journal…..
Choose your friends wisely. There will be some people who come in and out of your life for a season. That’s ok. Don’t let every new person into your innermost circle. Let them earn your trust first……
It’s really easy for people to focus on the challenges that you’ve overcome to get where you are. Now’s the time to start living as if you never faced them. What I mean by that, is you’re about to start growing up in all the normal ways everyone does. Learning to really take care of yourself, how to learn from every experience and how to admit when you’re wrong, how to say sorry when you don’t have to. All that kind of stuff that we have to learn as we grow……
Don’t do it by yourself. Keep talking to people when stuff goes wrong. Don’t be ashamed or embarrassed if you make mistakes or get into trouble. I wish I had learned this lesson a long time ago. Part of the risk of being a strong, independent woman is that you actually become too independent. It’s easy to start thinking as if any failure is unacceptable. Failure is simply a faster way of learning. It’s ruthlessly more efficient. So you should expect to fail often……
The most important thing is to learn to fail well – which means admitting something hasn’t worked or has gone wrong, to talk about it with others and to figure out what to do differently. Failing well usually means having people to keep you accountable in the mix as well. So these are things I hope you’ll remember when it happens next. It’s normal. Just reach out and get people to help you recover well. I promise that if you learn to do that, you’ll save yourself so much hardship in the future and become a much more compassionate and forgiving human being……
No triumph or mistake is the total sum of your success or failure. So don’t crow or mope more than you need to…….
Something else I want you to hold on to – this next part of your life is an opportunity and a risk, to become really selfish and self-centred. It’s easy when the whole focus of your life becomes what you are doing and what you want. So find someone to help when you get to Sydney. Find something that gets you out of your own world once or twice a week. It will help you stay grounded and it will also help you to remember that while dance school is everything right now, it won’t be everything forever… therefore it’s not the be all and end all in your world. Don’t live for today… live for tomorrow…..
In any situation, whether it’s an argument or someone who drives you crazy with love or crazy with hate – ask yourself first , what can I do differently? Then ask yourself what else might be going on for the people involved. Ask yourself whether there is anything about their perspective that might be true or worth taking on board. Do this ritually, even when it’s uncomfortable or when you are convinced you’re right. Especially when you are convinced you are right. This will help you to learn. It will make you stronger, more rational and more understanding…..
Don’t sleep with dumb boys. Seriously. And think hard about the story you’ll tell me about any tattoos. Mine have great stories, so I expect the same from you. If a conversation is good, then let it go on all night but don’t expect every night to be the same…..
Hold everything loosely except your own heart – you should hold that tight. When you decide to give it away, even in a little piece, give it freely without needing anything back. If you give love away because you need something in return, that isn’t love, precious girl. So give love when you know you’re still happy to give it without receiving anything in return from friends, with boys, with family…..
Love because love is good, not because you’re trying to fix anything within yourself. There will probably be times you do this anyway. Just make a note and ask yourself what you needed at the time. Don’t be afraid to go to therapy ever to deal with those questions….
I love you, earnestly and truly. I love you for the wonderful things about you and for the flaws we all have, that are about to begin being knocked off by your experiences in the world. Brave girl, you are always in my heart and I will always be with you in spirit, in love and in presence whenever I can…..
Lastly, I am always proud of you even if you ignore all this heartfelt advice. You will probably forget most of it at first, but maybe in six months or even six years you will remember this letter and pick it up again. I pray that whenever you pick it up, no matter how often or otherwise – you will find something in it that gives you hope, something that reminds you of what you can do to help any situation you are in. Remember you are only a supporting actor in the lives of all those people you’ll be around… but you can still win Academy Awards for that. So live well to encourage and support others. And live well to make a great story…..
She gives me strength, when I see her persevere. When I know my words lift her up, my spirit is also lifted. I want to say to her, ‘Daughter.. when you lift your eyes, my eyes are lifted to the horizon’. When you steady your heart against the tide, my heart is steadied.. because we share a name.
That name is Courage. Sometimes I remind her, sometimes she reminds me. We are bonded in that, my girl and I.
I have several indulgences in life. Firstly, I rarely take a book with me for a plane trip. Indulgence #1 – I prefer to buy a book at the airport (preferably US Trade size and pricing). I like to choose something that is new, unreleased in New Zealand yet and something that fits my mood in that very moment. It helps me to focus on being present during those delicious flights where I switch off from my phone, the internet and often, the people sitting alongside me.
This November, as I was wandering through Nashville airport it was Cheryl Strayed’s memoir, ‘Wild’, that caught my eye. The film was already in production, featuring an erstwhile Reese Witherspoon on the cover. Easy choice. The true story of a somewhat unlikeable woman facing a crossroads of family and personal trauma and choosing to process her pain through an at times impassable hiking trail appealed to my sense of adventure.
I read her story in just two sittings. Partly because the book itself is at times too easy to read for the depth of human experience it covers.
I immediately planned to watch the film after its release. Which brings me to Indulgence #2. A movie for one, with a glass of wine in one of my favourite cinemas. There’s something truly lovely about surrendering to the experience without care or regard for anyone else!
Verdict on the film: Given the nuanced subject matter of the film, it’s no surprise that it’s release has been small scale. However, Witherspoon’s performance is measured, grounded and believable. If she has previously always erred a little too far on the side of good, I found her characterization of Cheryl remained rooted in a woman with neurosis and addiction issues. While the film skimmed through some of the internal monologues that filled the pages of the book, the masterful editing pulls through pieces of Strayed’s past in a rhythmic cadence with her present.
Given the book is a personal memoir, you almost wonder if the author has come to like herself yet. By the time she leaves the trail, Cheryl is not a protagonist hero. She has overcome plenty but you get the sense there is still another mountain pass to climb through. The film is not about Strayed finishing the trail, but about the ways we find ourselves again after we’ve lost the path. Strayed, if not likeable, is certainly admirable. You might say the same for her mother, played by the always outstanding Laura Dern.
The book paints a character who is dangerously flawed, suffering through domestic violence and falling into alcohol abuse before a swift redemptive arc places her back on a path to achieving super-womanhood. Her death highlights Strayed’s view of injustice in the world, as well as her struggle with her own life and death choices.
Why you should see the film? Because these stories, told without romantic and unrealistic happy endings are important to understand and perceive as possible. You’ll enjoy seeing Witherspoon play a character with some depth and unresolved trauma. This is her best work since Walk The Line, in my view.
Book Vs Film: This is a rare instance where I think you could happily choose one or the other. Certainly I believe reading the book first made it easier for me to connect with Strayed on-screen. There are deeper and richer nuances capturned in the 300 pages of memoir that simply couldn’t of survived the cutting room. But the essence and truth of the story is there.
You’ll remember the line: “Putting myself in the way of beauty.” And the pragmatic relationship Strayed, a writer, has with her books along the path.
There’s nothing quite as thrilling for a foodie than getting to a new restaurant within the first week of opening. Luckily, I have friends who live on Princes Wharf who were equally keen to check out the new neighbourhood local.
During our pre-dinner drinks in the spacious bar area, overlooking a bustling ferry terminal on a damp late summer evening, it certainly felt like we could have been somewhere on the East Coast of the United States, a location that goes hand in hand with crab. We discussed at length the long history of establishments that haven’t managed to make that corner work and discussed the merits of food you can eat wholeheartedly, fingers and all.
Special mention should go to the bar snack popcorn, served complimentarily (always a nice touch) at the bar. Tasty and again, finger food. In terms of bar selection, a line-up of the usual suspects but you don’t need much more than a cold pilsner or lager here. I did find the Blue Lagoon hard to resist though. Blue drinks. Delicious and fun, with a little attitude.
That’s exactly what The Crab Shack is.An recent institution in Wellington, the fishing net faux-crab pots, beach shack and brass tack fit-out creates a suitably seaward but not overly tweaked atmosphere. The people manage to do the rest. Although not booked solid, there was a steady turnover of locals and tourists and we were delighted to see Simon Gault at the pass. It’s refreshing to see a chef at the head of a large hospitality business still working on the tools in opening week.
Still, opening week it was and you’d be caught by surprise if there wasn’t something to raise an eyebrow at. The crabpots are open to the main dining floor and certainly seemed to be providing a steamy tropical heat and smoke of their own. There was only one dish to get waylaid on its way to us however, and the suitably apologetic waiter ensured the correct order was quickly delivered. Between us, we managed Gault’s iconic manuka rewana bread, a revelation for carb-loading days. The Jonah crab, Atlantic Golden crab pots and tuatua fritters were the popular choices on the day. I enjoyed the charred and thinly sliced pineapple that added sweetness and acidity to the lemongrass and chili of my golden crab. One pot between two was ample and the sheer job of cracking, sucking and teasing sweet, delicate crab meat from claws delights my inner child.
While we saw a few burgers and fries leaving the kitchen, we were generally impressed to see the populus at large donning white bibs and tucking in to work hard for their dinner.
Verdict: A few little corners to tidy up but the friendly staff and service ensured nary a bump was felt. Delicious crab worth the calories expended to enjoy it. We split the bill at $250 for 4pax, including plenty of drink rounds.
Thriller Live unashamedly celebrates the life and back catalogue of the undisputed King of Pop, Michael Jackson. When you read that the show has been playing in London’s West End since 2009, it would be easy to mistake this for a musical tribute. But it’s really not, it’s something so much more.
This slightly-over 2 hour long show sets a blistering pace through Jackson’s back catalogue from the earliest of Jackson 5 days to the iconic pop ballads us children of the 80s and 90s knew.
The iconic dance moves.
It’s been nearly 6 years since the icon died and I remember watching the queues of people outside the Staples Center in LA awaiting the launch of the documentary-film of what would have been his major comeback tour, “This Is It”. Last night’s atmostphere at Auckland’s Civic Theatre was almost as energising, with fans up and on their feet for all the major hits.
This really comes as no suprise – with an international cast of dancers, singers and live musicians pulling out hit after hit and storytelling along the way. Even the most devoted of us MJ fans murmured with appreciation as we recalled that Thriller spawned 7 Top 10 hits from 11 album tracks. It’s impressive even now to remember, but even more impressive to see and hear those tunes (and those dance moves) delivered with eerie precision.
The talented Mig Ayesa (Sydney-born, frequent traveller to these shores in shows like Annie) is one of 5 lead vocalists including Australian Prinnie Stevens, who rose to mainstream fame through her appearance on The Voice, but comes from a musical theatre background. It’s Manchester born Alex Buchanan that steals your breath away however. You wouldn’t even have to close your eyes to believe you were listening to the King of Pop himself, the vocal and dance performance is so bang on.
Considering how much I would have considered paying to see the comeback tour, the night was intensely moving even as I calculated there was no possible way I’d hear all my favourite tracks from a 45 year musical career. That being said, the back catalogue they managed to cover was remarkable; including my favourites Man In The Mirror, Billie Jean, Beat It and of course, Thriller.
Could there be much more perfect way to spend Friday the 13th than eagerly awaiting the iconic zombie dance number? I think not! Even the most stoic of audiences will find it hard resist tapping their feet, clapping and dancing on request from the stage. It was easy to sense the love and inspiration that Michael Jackson birthed across generations of fans; young and old and to leave a venue smiling, laughing and feeling all the best parts of nostalgia was a real treat.
The show is only playing a super short season 12 – 22 February at The Civic in Auckland, but you won’t regret grabbing tickets now and making this show a priority! Ticketing information available here.
Real Sex & Emotional Intimacy – These Stories Are Not My Secrets.
I’m able to put words to it now, I think – what I’ve been learning is that the healthy and whole sexual expression I crave is both physical and emotional. It should be clear by now. Therefore, my definition of sexuality has become much bigger. My sexuality is the expression of physical, emotional and spiritual intimacy.
If we want to have good, great sex (and great relationships, I suppose) then we need to learn to have true emotional intimacy with each other. Well, crap. Here’s the truth of it. I’m terrible at emotional intimacy. I think many of us are, but I’ll share with you my perspective.
My primary love languages are physical touch and quality time. So it’s no wonder that much of my desire for love is about the physical connection. Still, that shouldn’t mean I ignore the need to share my whole emotional self and find a partner who will receive and accept me well, someone who can and will encourage me in emotional intimacy, not just physical.
I share some pretty personal thoughts on the internet most days so you might find it hard to believe that I’m not good at emotional honesty. But those are just my stories. They are things I’ve processed, thought about, discussed and then finessed ready for publishing. They are not my secrets or my truest self.
Filtering. Somewhere in my youth and young adult years, I learned to filter. I learned to filter because my thoughts and feelings could push people away. If I said or asked for the wrong thing, expressed the wrong feeling – rejection came swiftly. Sometimes a little rejection or humiliation, sometimes total abandonment. I learned that my feelings weren’t to be trusted and should rarely be expressed. I think we all learn this filtering, to some degree or another.
Don’t think for a minute that you see all of me here on the Internet. I’ve got a collection of stories I’m comfortable enough to share and that no longer pose a risk in sharing. My bravery is in continuing to think through what I’m learning offline, in hopes one day I can share it.
Beyond the amusing anecdotes, the generous dinner parties and the many people who cross my threshold, I hide my deepest parts away. My heart is frequently hidden behind a thick concrete wall. It’s not easy to get in there. My fear is exposing my truest self to the ones I care about most. Emotional intimacy, the one thing I’m looking for is something I’m terrible at it because it actually requires more than one person.
Emotional intimacy isn’t just sharing part of yourself, it’s also having that part of you accepted and acknowledged by another person. Immediately, the connection between the emotional and physical acts of intimacy should be obvious. However, if I’ve been living behind a concrete wall, I don’t necessarily have great skills for learning to trust or making good choices around trust.
On one hand, we’re told to guard our hearts and only let the trustworthy ones in. On the other hand, we’re told to be bold and go after what we want. But the earliest lessons we learn in love can be the most dangerous. If I learn that men aren’t interested in my thoughts or feelings, or that I must be all about meeting his needs rather than my own, everything else becomes coloured.
So these days, when I bravely reveal parts of myself, I immediately start waiting for the rejection to come. Or, if a small part of who I am is accepted and not rejected, I can’t help but want to share more and more (or even all of myself), because the feeling is so rare. Neither of those places is particularly healthy. So I live with a lot of people close to me, like a party at the gates of the secret garden. Few have the key to the garden and even fewer still step inside.
It’s easy to know that I like whisky, for example. Or even how I like to drink it. A few might even share whisky with me under the stars or in a favourite alcove. But there is so much more under my skin and inside my mind than what translates to Facebook or Instagram. The fleeting, silly stupid thoughts and the beautiful, sacred ones; most of these thoughts never leave my lips. Most people have never seen the true extent of my generosity, my warmth or my kindness. The things I do are nothing in comparison to what I think of doing – but these secrets, I keep for myself for now, in a secret place.
Emotional intimacy in the future will require that at some point, I’ll have to risk letting someone inside the garden wall. I might even have to risk asking someone to come inside the garden wall.
I’ve heard too many people talk about the loneliness of the marriage bed, where physical intimacy and emotional intimacy are rarely connected. And I can see how this becomes true – after all, touch is such an easy way of expressing pleasure and approval, but without words or supporting actions it’s not always enough.
My friend Karl has some great thoughts here, largely from the perspective of a man trying to raise 4 sons, 1 daughter and with a long-standing commitment to youth work.
“Intimacy (In- to -me -see..) is an internal desire expressed so often externally. The modern expression of relationships misses the point of intimacy and encourages sexual expression as a means to an end. As I teach my sons…intimacy is often better expressed with clothes on. Our young men need to be coached on intimacy within the context of male relationship too, so sex doesn’t interfere in the early development of knowing how to be strong while laid bare. If we breed shallow men afraid of openness and transparency, they’re unable to meet emotional needs as a lover.
Unfortunately most men are lazy relational lovers. Preferring to love by touch with their hands. It’s learned behaviour from following childlike lust fuelled by curiosity and infatuation. It’s easy, like a takeaway diet. To love and be loved (intimacy) is to go to the farmers market having written a menu formed on knowing the dinner guest, not defined by the produce available at the time, but a meal crafted on tangible knowledge of the invited. (Their needs, desires etc – Ed.) Learning to be lovers, friends, companions, partners is a dance worth learning before the uncomplicated-complicated dance of sex.
To know the chef within, to add the knowledge of produce then the skill, talent of cooking is to form Michelin chefs. Society has formed men great at BBQ but poor in the kitchen. I’d love the focus to shift for our youth to becoming great lovers.. first with clothes on.. to develop a knowledge of themselves. Once the clothes come off, the heart beats too fast for the heart to listen and a language of love is dulled and hard to define. The focus of intimacy then becomes now how I feel at a muddled physical level. “
I think there’s a lot of merit in what Karl is talking about, not just for young men but young women as well. The key is learning to express love through more than just physical touch and connection. So how do we overcome the hurdle of learning to share our real selves and welcome another whole self?
I long to hear somebody ask for a key to the garden. Tell me more, show me more of yourself, is what I long to hear. Intimacy is an unending mystery, you can never fully know another person. There is always another discovery, another question, another thought or feeling to explore. I believe intimacy is both learning how to enjoy and unravel the endless mystery and then habitually engaging in the mystery.
My desire to share all of my secret self the moment I connect with someone who feels trustworthy is pretty flawed. The point is to discover those things, not to lay them out all at once. It’s helpful to observe those who are willing to do the work of discovery. Those who want to unpack the hidden woman behind the Facebook feed. Previously, I’ve thought that intimacy was to be known, but now I see that true intimacy is to be in the knowing. An ongoing process – where two people choose to continue to discover each other. Upon entering the gated, secret garden they discover it is in fact, endless. Over time, some flowers, trees and ponds might become familiar, much-loved features but there is always something new to see or discover.
Tash McGill is a broadcaster, writer and strategist who works with people and organisations to solve problems and create transformation. She believes people are the most important thing and that stories are powerful ways of changing the world. You can find out more at tashmcgill.com or by visiting her LinkedIn profile.
