A Year To Value

As I sit down to write this review, as I’ve done every year since 2018, I find myself feeling more detached from my theme than I would have preferred. As a practice I don’t re-read my last review before writing to stop any possibility of corrupting my current thinking. The Year Of Value seems like such a vague goal? My yearly theme is my ’north star‘, a chance for me to point my life compass vaguely in the direction I want to set sail and see what unique island I end up on 12 months later. But this year, I’m not sure where I am, or exactly what I intended to find when I left. 

To reveal a little secret, sometimes I plan the review in my head before the year commences. It might seem counter intuitive to be thinking up the review ahead of time, but I actually feel that it drives me. I either write the words I had been thinking all year long and achieve the goal,or I write something different still worthy of the years theme, but a deeper meaning to the theme that I never could have expected. Each is a success in its own way and allows me to navigate life guided by an intention. This year however, I feel distant from what, a year ago, I wanted to say and I remain un-inlightened to any new outlook on my theme. I recall I wanted to talk about how I had learned to value the little moments in life, found new value in my friendships, valued my body and my mental health more than in the past and cemented my personal values. But I didn’t really do anything with those ideas. Because I have always been someone who values what I have, the pages of these very reviews are evidence of this. I am, and have always been, a "stop and smell the roses" person (sometimes very literally). Meaning what really happened this year is I mostly remained the same, but, perhaps, that was the point. Not to be different, not to change, just to remind myself who I am, who I have always been, to rekindle myself as someone who has always valued what he has.

This year I got to travel to Japan, and although it’s basically an Australian right of passage to tour Japan these days, I did feel my trip was something special. Firstly, it was my wife and I’s  first holiday together where it was just the two of us, no international family to drop in on, no ‘going for a larger reason’ we went to Japan for no other reason than the two of us wanted to. It was wonderful to be doing the things we had talked about doing for years and finally seeing in real life the things we had only seen online in countless videos. It means a lot that I got to experience Japan with just her, ‘we’ got to be ’just us’ for a while, and it was perfect. 

I also had a more spiritual journey to follow in Japan that led us to day hike on a small uncommon trail up a mountain, where I took a moment to listen to the world around me. In my family there are a few believers in a schism of a Buddhist and Christian religious philosophy. Although not a religion itself and not in any way linked to Buddhist or Christian Gods or religious structures, I would describe it as a set of beliefs and a personal spiritual identity. In essence the belief is that the universe has a divine force of love and light that can be channeled through them. That one should live their life with good intentions, an open heart and in balance with the universe. I would not class myself as a believer in this ideology or its claims, however growing up around these beliefs gave me an unwavering respect for the way members of my family practice the ideology. It is personal, with no group structures or overarching restrictions, simply a moral and fundamental belief to respect yourself, the world, others around you and to be a good person with love and light within. Regardless of my disbelief, throughout my life when in distress or lost in uncertainty I have found myself reaching out to the universe of love and light for guidance or support and feeling the calm within myself in response. It is illogical for someone who finds strength in the knowledge of science and engineering to feel this way, but I do. It is what led me to the mountain where the founder of these beliefs is said to have first felt this divine energy. 

The hike would be fairly easy and was only made difficult by the intense heat and humidity that made it an effortful clime. Overall the mountain and the traditional Buddhist temple at its peak was what you would expect, quiet, peaceful and reverent. As I stood in the center point of the temple I didn’t feel any spiral divinity or any link to a higher divine power. I was just me, in a place on earth. However I did value the opportunity to see such a beautiful place, and I took a long moment to look out from the temple over the forests of Japan where low rain clouds floated past smaller mountain peaks. I enjoyed taking time to be mindful, to sit in meditation for a moment. I am grateful I got to feel the fresh mineral water flowing off the mountain as we hiked back down. Most of all, I appreciate that I got to show respect to something meaningful to people who mean something to me. If these beliefs have not guided my spirit, they certainly have guided my morality and helped determine who I have become.  

In contrast to the calm quiet temple, Tokyo was electric and made me feel connected physically to a vastly populated world I tend to think about often, but explore rarely. I often get caught up thinking about how we could make the world a better place, how we should be fighting against injustices, our unity, pushing away darkness and looking towards the future filled with hope and optimism that I forget just how many people live on this rock floating in space. Seeing the virtually endless city of Tokyo from its tallest building ironically grounded me. The city was bursting with life and every block is a world of its own. I remember thinking that the three weeks in Japan where we explored so much had barely scratched the surface. That the world is so very vast and big, so alive and so very full. The thought made me silently hold back tears, for me this was a moment where I could almost truly feel how big our world is.  

Returning from Japan I made a conscious  effort to mentally slow down, I had somehow done this while being a tourist. I appreciated being overseas so much, that anything I spent doing felt like an experience worth having and time well spent. Buying a drink from a vending machine was an experience, sitting in line for Disneyland was worth doing, standing in a park was 'what I came here to experience'. I cherished that my mind had shifted into a 'timeless mode' where every moment could be slow and given the air to be properly valued. Living with ADHD it's often hard to do this, there is a sense of urgency to everything I do. I've always felt like the clock of free time is constantly running out and I must live the most life possible and waste nothing. The ironic part is this tends to lead to me doing less, so confused by what I should do with my 'limited time' that I don't start anything and rush through projects I should be enjoying. Despite it being literally a limited time holiday, Japan never felt rushed. Perhaps it was the Japanese culture, or my relaxed vibe while on holiday? Regardless of why, I planned to bring that feeling back home with me and to some success I am learning to slow down. 

It's taking time and lots of effort and I am not perfect, but there are things that I am finding new joy in doing more gently and with intention. What made the most difference was the decision a few months after my return home to remove social media from my phone permanently. I had removed socials before leaving to ensure I didn't spend any time scrolling over enjoying, but when I came home I reinstalled everything and instantly found myself back to the habit of endlessly scrolling. Never really feeling or learning anything from the content, just filling voids in time. This boredom scrolling was also leading to increased anxiety and a constant feeling I was about to lose important things in my life. Once the apps were gone the anxiety started to fade and I was left with a realisation that many of the things I stress about losing are only worries because I value them. That a mind shifts from the worry of loss, to appreciating now, not only voids the worry but energises the joy.

I do still find myself doom-scrolling from time to time on the few apps I do permit, but luckily the bursts are short and limited. It's also unfortunate that the byproduct of removing social media is that I miss out on the few updates that friends and family do post online. If I missed your birthday or an engagement announcement - I am sorry. I also found myself taking less photos of buildings and sunsets when I knew they weren’t going to be posted and no-one would see them. It's upsetting that my mind has been warped by apps in this way. Before the internet was in my pocket I took photos and videos all the time, many of them never intended to be shown or shared. The snapshot was my way of capturing the value in a special moment, seeing the most in my day to day and being creative within the mundane. I think in the year ahead I want to push myself to take more photos again, even if they are only ever for a future me to appreciate, they are worth the time and effort. 

Writing this review and remembering the things I have spent time appreciating this year, my job, my home, my wife, friends, family, travel, my parents, siblings, music, books, and much more. There is one person I feel compelled to acknowledge in particular, my brother. It might seem odd to call out one sibling, but I would hope that the love for my sister has already come across and is well documented in the years of these reviews. My brother and I on the other hand practice a far more subtle care for each other. We are starkly different, he loves motor cars and I drive an EV, he spends time at the local pub and I don't drink alcohol at all. Where I am singing and musicals he is power-tools and BBQ’s. Despite our differences we have always shown up whenever it mattered and in our own unique way we love each other. My brother is a constant presence in my life as I see him every Wednesday at family dinners. This year however marks my new awareness that perhaps while navigating my own trials of life I didn't notice him changing over time. This year  my older brother's boyish charm and cheeky joy, that he always had when we were young, resurfaced in his personality. All of a sudden it felt like something had returned in him that had been missing and no matter how much I take time to appreciate people around me, I can't forgive that I didn't notice him change years ago. Perhaps I assumed we were just growing up, perhaps it was always there and I missed it. Regardless, I am glad I see it in him again now and I'm happy this part of him is back. 

It's things like this, the mostly mundane, even effortless moments of kindness, joy or empathy that have been causing me to tear up more and more often than normal this year. The world feels so starved of general care and empathy for one another that any time I whiteness even the smallest moment it overwhelms me. Simple things like helping someone reach something off a high shelf in the supermarket, showing a tourist how to get where they need to be, being welcoming to others or showing concern when a neighbour's fire alarm goes off then eventually laughing along with them when it turns out to be burnt toast and everything's fine. The realisation that these small gestures were affecting me so deeply came on my way home from work one evening. Walking to my regular station I noticed an elderly man in a wheelchair who seemed to have fainted on the sidewalk. Although not in an unsafe position sitting in his chair, the situation was unusual. Seeing this, I went out of my way to speak to the transit police and ask them to check on him and when pointing to show them his location I could see a woman had stopped and was already seeing if he could be woken.

After my small part was over and the police headed to his location and the man already started to move again I dashed to my train. When I was on board and my head cleared from the quick run I felt so much emotion and I struggled to hold back tears. Although it might not always seem like it, people do care about each-other and the largest counter balance to this low level tension we all seem to be feeling constantly this year, is just common decency. It reminded me of a quote I heard years ago that's been rattling in my brain once again. "In a world so indifferent to human suffering, giving a shit about what happens to other people is the only true act of rebellion. A refusal to let life's cruelty and thoughtlessness make us cruel and thoughtless too". These acts of small kindness remind me that no matter how big our world's problems and how large humanities divisions might seem, fundamentally, locally, personally we do all care for each other. These heavy thoughts do weigh on me, and the emotional overreactions were leading me to burnout more often this year. Until my wife's new love of vinyl forced me to turn off my phone and sit and listen to old classic records I had stored away for the longest time. I found shutting out the world and simply enjoying music with her a revitalising experience. It sparked a new idea, that perhaps when I am feeling burnt out, rest isn't always the right answer. Instead, I should seek out the things that energize my passion, not rest, but recharge myself. 

Both my wife and I are guilty of pulling back into the cocoon of our home and zoning out watching numbing content that is just surface level enough to quiet the mind. However the music wasn't like that, it made me feel creative, focused on something, it allowed me to properly engage with what I was doing and not just 'put something on' it was intentional. After this year of reflection I want more of this, I want to go into this direction and find the things that energise me. I want to be with people more often, have more conversations, focus on things one at a time, travel, make things, ride my bike, be more creative and engage with the people in my community. Actually talk to the barista that makes my coffee. In the online world they would say I needed to "go touch grass.." and I think, I need to just, go outside.