So 2024 has been a suboptimal year in my world.

It’s worth bearing in mind that good and bad are not a single dimension. This year has had an awful lot of bad (an awful, awful lot) but also a wonderful amount of good in it. That said, I think it’s safe to say that I wouldn’t survive another year like this. I don’t think I’d choose to survive another year like this. Almost no matter the good, sometimes the horrible is quite simply horrible.

I am grateful to the friends and family who surrounded me in the darkest times. I have drunk a lot of tea with a lot of people. There have been tears and despair. There has been support which humbled me and which I still don’t feel I deserved. Whether you sat and drank tea with me, gave me a place to stay, baked me brownies, hugged me, took me to dinner and fed me steak and shiraz, made me dinner and fed me steak and Bordeaux, reality-checked me, pestered me to come out on the bike, dragged me out to a random friend’s birthday dinner, came to parkrun with me when you really didn’t feel like running, or just bluntly told me harsh truths about life, thank you. For all of those things and more, to all of those people: you know who you are, and I am grateful to you all beyond measure:

Calling time on a marriage is never something done lightly, and it was an extremely difficult and painful decision. I still have a great deal of respect for Syndia, and I do ask that people respect what’s also a very difficult time for her.

Regretfully parting company with some close friends has also been extremely painful but sadly unavoidable. I wish it were not so, but if wishes were fishes… 🤷‍♂️ Perhaps that’s permanent; perhaps not. I hope not, but that’s out of my hands, and what will be will be.

Saying vale to Scoon was a sad, sad time. Life really doesn’t deal a fair hand to some people. At least we got to spend some time together towards the end doing silly, fun things. Hooning around the mountains in a turbo Subaru with Scoon and Fadge whilst alternating between laughter, dark humour and tears is a memory I’ll hold dear forever. I had promised to not kill us early in a flaming wreck but Fadge may have not quite believed me at the time.

Having several friends end up in hospital for issues of varying severity was impactful, both because I care about them but also as a reminder of my own mortality. Not that I needed that (see below) but the reminder nonetheless hits close to home.

I am reminded, however, that I am blessed in so many ways. I have wonderful family and friends around me. Upon hearing some of this year’s news, friends I hadn’t seen in years came out of the woodwork to offer support, and I’ll be forever grateful for that.

There’s a quote from Confucius, popularised by - of all people - Jimmy Carr: “A man has two lives. The first life begins at birth; the second when he realises he has but one.” Never has that quote been more apt for me than now.

My yearly theme for 2024 ended up becoming “Genesis” - the original meaning being “new beginnings”. Well, there wasn’t much left of the old, so new beginnings it had to be, and it was.

This year I hiked (strolled, if we’re being honest) Mount Coolum with Joey, hiked O’Reilly’s with Fadge, Mitch, Elise and Jess on a number of occasions, climbed Beerwah solo (perhaps not my brightest idea but it was worth it). I kayaked in the Brisbane River, jumped out of aircraft, ran countless parkruns, ran my first half-marathon and a bunch of other things.

I’ve picked up the violin again and am loving it. I’m rusty, of course, but much less so than I’d expected. Sometimes it sounds pretty ordinary but when I get it right I can make that instrument sing. I’m not messing around. I will be gigging in 2025 one way or another.

I’m singing again. I’m singing really well. Between voice and violin and a few other things, I’m genuinely amazed at how transformative an experience it is to have so much music back in my life. It’s wonderful. It’s beyond wonderful. Never again will I let that go.

I’m taking my cameras out more and more often. When I don’t have an SLR with me I still have my phone, and Ansel Adams has opinions about the best camera. Once upon a time I made the decision to sell my photography. It was a valid decision at the time and I stand by it, but I did sell something I loved. Never again. I will never again sell another image. I’ll do volunteer gigs on occasion, and shoot the odd portrait for a friend here or there, but it’s on my terms and I won’t accept payment. As a result, I’m again viewing the world through a different lens (ha!) and re-learning how to appreciate it in all its beauty. If you’re following me on all the different social channels I’m sure you’ll have seen that.

I’ve enrolled in a postgraduate course in counselling for next year. I don’t expect to practise; nor is it to help me professionally - although, of course, just being a better person will help across the board. No, I’m doing that just for myself. I need to better understand how my own mind works. Given the number of deep conversations I’ve had with other people (not just this year but especially this year), I also need to better understand how to help them, and where my own limits are before suggesting professional help. I also want to understand how I failed some people entirely despite my best efforts and what I could have done differently.

I’m back as a mentor again in the Tattersall’s mentoring program. Given my rubbish 2024 I didn’t think it’d be fair to be a mentor for anyone else when I was barely holding things together myself, but my self-reassembly project has gone well and is continuing to go well and I’m in a better place than ever to help others.

My fitness has improved out of sight, and I wasn’t doing badly before. I’m hovering between eight and ten percent body fat, lifting more than ever and feeling great. I won a pull-up contest with a schoolie whilst wearing a backpack full of water, medical supplies, pancake mix etc. and wearing heavy hiking boots. I’m running more, cycling a little less (for now…), hiking more and lifting and swimming regularly. All of this has helped to improve my mental state beyond measure and I’m so very pleased with how I look and feel. I have nobody to show it off to at present, but that will be what it will be and I am content.

Work-wise: we smashed it this year. I can’t say much more than that, other than that I’m so very proud of my department (and, yes, myself) for how things went. Again, no life partner to share that with but my people know, and I know, and that’s enough. For the work folk: “kuberneetus” will forever be a real word.

My MS hasn’t progressed detectably at all for years. I guess now is as good a time as any to de-cloak that: yes, I have Multiple Sclerosis. A very, very small number of friends and family knew and respected that confidence. Thank you. It was diagnosed in October 2011 and provided me with my own mortality reality-check. I did say earlier that I hadn’t needed any more, didn’t I? So, yes, I have MS and have been on treatment for it since 2011. The drug I was on (which was state-of-the-art at the time and very effective) has recently been swapped out for a newer one which isn’t a “cure” per se but is basically one dose every five years and then living a completely normal life. If it walks like a cure and quacks like a cure, I’ll take it.

Learning to live truly alone this year, and to be alone with my own thoughts, was transformative. It wasn’t easy - nor was I expecting it to be - but I’ve learned to be content and at peace with my existence. That was hard, especially without the crutch of a partner, housemate, pet or even a house plant. Choosing “alone” meant “truly alone” and I’m proud of having done that and come out the other side.

Speaking of living truly alone… I love living in my apartment. It’s small (two bedrooms; one of which is reserved for my daughter) but right on the river at St Lucia. I wake up every morning to sunrise over the rippling water, the sound of the rowing crews training, and bike bells from people on the river loop. It’s beautiful at night, too, with the city lights shimmering over the water. It’s peaceful and beautiful and I love it there.

I’ve also made quite a number of new friends this year, and many in a rather unexpected context: church. Go ahead. Laugh. Laugh loudly. I’ll cope 🙂 In hindsight, I’ve been on this particular journey for many years, but hindsight is 20/20, isn’t it? What journey? The one from “militant atheist” to “reluctant atheist” to “well, you can’t call yourself an atheist if you’re having conversations with God, can you?” to Christian. I had a conversation some time ago with some close friends in which I described myself as a reluctant atheist. I wished that I could believe in a god who cared about people but just couldn’t bring myself to. To cut a multi-decade-long story short, when I crossed the threshold of my local church I was neither turned into a pillar of salt nor struck by lightning, and things progressed from there.

I’ll be forever grateful to the people who introduced me to that church long ago, even though it took until now for me to fully appreciate it. I’m sorry for being so slow in that regard. I’ll also be forever grateful to the then-strangers who greeted me there, patiently fielded my nebulously-articulated questions, respected my confidences, shared their own, and ultimately became my friends.

One upshot of rejoining the faith I firmly left at fourteen years old after being tossed out of my RE class for daring to ask questions was that I was finally eligible to be a Red Frog. I’d been involved to some extent with the frogs for many years but not been eligible to be one. The requirements are stringent and although I already had a Blue Card and all sorts of criminal history checks (working in financial services requires one to be squeaky-clean) the one element I was missing was a pastoral reference, which this year was very graciously provided. I hope I did you proud, Caleb.

So… yes, this year I went to Schoolies on the Gold Coast as a Red Frog. I wasn’t expecting anything for myself - it’s not about us, after all, but about safeguarding a new generation. That said, at about 2am one morning after my team had already walked about a half-marathon that night in the unrelenting rain and bitterly-cold wind with no end in sight, I felt peace. Our boots were wet, we were soaked, we’d just gotten another drunken schoolie safely home and cleaned up the vomit, and were walking back to the Red Frogs walk-home tents to pick up some more. It was a miserable night, yet that helped me remind myself that it wasn’t about us, and that we were here for them, not ourselves. And then we decided we’d make it a happy night anyway, and splashed through the puddles singing The Duck Song and 500 Miles.

Choosing how to view those miserable circumstances is a good lesson in life, and the power our choice of how to respond has. A dear friend once directed me towards the philosophy of Alfred Adler. Whilst some of his thinking has been superseded by newer medical knowledge, much still holds true. His view of “life tasks” and the “separation of tasks” is very powerful and I’d encourage a look into his philosophy. Nobody could live this year for me - that was my task, as are many others, just as I couldn’t live other people’s tasks for them. While you’re reading Adler, perhaps read some Camus as well as the standard Kant and Nietzsche. The world really can be absurd and we were never promised fairness (although we can strive to create it), understanding or even an explanation. Also read some Job and perhaps Corinthians. You might be surprised at what you find. I was.

So… where to from here for me? What does the future hold? In all honesty, while I wish I knew, I am at peace with where I am, and content with what I have.

My yearly theme for 2025 is “Renaissance Man”.

There are many things for which I hope; some realistic and some of which would take a miracle. I do hope and pray for the miracles, but I also work towards what’s within my control. Either way, I am where I am and the future will be what it will be.

I would like, of course, to eventually create something special with someone special. While I’m whole, comfortable and content alone, the union of two people creates something much more than the sum of its parts. It took me an embarrassingly long time to truly understand that. Anything that does happen in that regard needs to begin with friendship, and that’s what I’m seeking at the moment: investing in existing friendships, perhaps resurrecting some old ones I regret losing, and also developing new ones. I’ve met some wonderful people this year and if “all” I end up with is new, good friends then that’s a very happy place to be.

Whilst meeting someone is outside of my control, there are many things which are within my control. The Serenity Prayer gives guidance on what to do about those. I’m going to explore more, both with friends and solo. I’m going to take my daughter to dinner, watch her play volleyball, turn up to her debates and concerts, and continue to be the best father I can be for her. I’m going to sing more, play more and enjoy music more. I will share my life’s expensive and painful lessons freely in the hope that others can learn from them without having to make the same mistakes. I will teach, guide and mentor. I will learn. I will drive my hoon-mobile modded Subaru the way it was intended - fast, loud and occasionally sideways, with the sunroof open and the obnoxious sound system turned up to eleven. I will ride my motorcycle, race my bicycles, take my photos, jump out of aircraft, paddle my kayaks, dance, sing and play. If there’s someone special with whom to share those experiences, so be it, but I’m also going to share them with my friends. I’m going to live my life, not just survive to the finish line.

I will be the best father I can be.

I will be the best friend I can be.

I will be the best person I can be.

I will be the best version of myself I can be.

What does the future hold for me? I am content with my path. I have my tasks and I am working to make good on them. What will be will be, and I am at peace.

What does the future hold for you? That is your task. I hope you discharge it well. If I may help, please say the word - but I won’t intrude on your tasks.

P.S. I’d originally intended to schedule this post for release just before midnight on New Year’s Eve, but it’s relevant now so out it goes. Perhaps I’ll re-work it and re-post it later; perhaps not. Read it while you can, if you wish.