Labouring

Labouring

In endeavours to obtain a Code Compliance Certificate for my house, men spent time in January under my deck reshaping the ground and applying hard fill to comply with the requirements of the Building Consent. It was a  week of those 28 degree days, full sun, and not a lot of breeze. All I could do was supply them with water and a few Coke Zeros, although they looked like a hit of sugar might not have been a bad thing with the heat and exertion.

I felt slightly guilty asking that the soil removed was placed some distance away near my burn pile. But I was paying by the hour I told myself as I supplied more fluids!

During that same week I had some students via Student Job Search (SJS), clearing grass and weeds and further developing my small bush walk. When I purchased the site where I recently built I hadn’t realised that an area of bush, north of what appeared to be the boundary fence, was in fact part of the property. It was overgrown with bramble, but on investigation I could see that it contained a number of choice natives – flax, cabbage, Nikau, Totara, along with Manuka and Coprosma. 

I had an extended break over summer – refresh leave which was once called a sabbatical – most of which I spent at my rural property. A notebook I keep of activity on the property lists 25 mini projects under the heading “Summer 23-24 – SJS Tasks” including estimated and actual time involved. Learning: most things took two to three times as long as estimated. For example “1. Clear around Septic Tank” the estimate was two people for 2 hours. Actual time two people, 8 hours.  I got stuck in too, both before the students started, during, and after. The during bit was the best. Energetic young men, mostly half my age, who seemed to be able to just keep on going forever, making progress that I could only dream of on my own. Keeping time records of projects was very instructive for future maintenance. It also brought home some home truths. How did I take six hours to lay five railway sleepers to create a small path?! Amateur with a spirit level.

Back in 2020 when I had portion of my right quadricep cut out I was told I wouldn’t ever walk up the local Maunga without assistance. That was proven to be incorrect, but I haven’t felt the same strength – nothing in particular – just not as strong as I once was.

Labouring helped a lot. It hurt, but it hurt less as the days and weeks went on and after a while I realised I was feeling stronger again. More confident to lift, move, dig. With that brings freedom of choice and confidence that a larger rural property is manageable without having to pay for everything to be done.

Building and retaining muscle is incredibly important as we get older and in world where mental resilience and fitness is emphasised it’s been a big learning for me. A true sabbatical and if you need a tree planted, I could be your guy!

The reward of having my own native walk has been big. I find myself in there all the time – transplanting baby Totara, weeding by hand, clipping to keep the path clear and just really enjoying my very own forest walk.

It’s a year ago today that a state of emergency was declared for Cyclone Gabrielle. I wasn’t unscathed but relatively speaking got off lightly. As I type I can see a large Manuka tree in my bush, that was cut off at about the 8 metre mark in the storms.

Get Strong.

Stephen

Notes:

  • There are over 90 species of Coprosma with over 50 found in New Zealand. 
  • I lost some big Manuka trees in Cyclone Gabrielle which finally got removed and converted into firewood, and a batch of several dozen self-seeded baby trees have taken their place.
  • The walk is part of a planned work around my 4ha and my big plan is to extend the walk to neighbouring properties if I can
  • The 25 projects aren’t all done yet, but there’s others too, some I have managed on my own
  • I’ve got more to say about the students another day too – they were amazing

A princely tale of gratitude

A princely tale of gratitude

When sixty of us 17 and 18 year olds gathered at the Police College in Trentham, Upper Hutt in January 1981 it’s probable that none of us really knew why we were doing it, or where it might take us. We had been selected from a pool of applicants and as the country was in a recession, with unemployment rising it was likely – in hindsight – that there would have been no shortage of applicants. From what I can pick up, some joined because of family connections, some because they saw this as a career for life, and others, well, who knows what 17 year olds are making decisions based on!

Recently, our Covid delayed 40 year reunion took place in Wellington, with 27 of the group, some spouses and one instructor. And we saw videos from four others who couldn’t make it including until recently the coach of an international rugby team.

Through 1981 we were designated temporary constables to help out with policing during the controversial Springbok Tour. 58 Graduated. Four have sadly died. Three of us, including one of my besties still, started our police careers at Dunedin. Six of the 58 are still serving in the police.

With Mum & Dad at the opening of the Police College 42 years ago today.
Mum & Dad with me at the opening of the police college 42 years ago. Mum and Dad are still my best career champions – always there.

During the reunion weekend, we visited the Royal NZ Police College in Porirua where we moved to in March 1981, as the first occupants. Exactly 42 years ago today, on 1 April 1981, the then Prince of Wales, visited us and formally opened the new College. It was an amazing event, and we trained hard to put on a gymnastic display with telegraph poles, got a crash course in marching and drills and I’m sure we made everyone pretty proud from our parents in attendance, the police commissioner Bob Walton through to the then prime minister Robert Muldoon. Prince Charles was our Patron and so we were and still are known as the Prince of Wales 25th Cadet Wing. The Cadet programme only lasted another year, and after that all recruits had to be grown ups of at least 19 years old!

Rainbow Warrior Bombing display at the police college museum Although I’m smiling, I am respectful that Greenpeace photographer Fernando Pereira died in this incident, never forgotten. To my right is the outboard from the Zodiac used by the bombers. I had a photograph with that in the NZ Herald at the time.

It seemed to me at the reunion there might be an inverse relationship between tenure in the police and enthusiasm to relive that special year. For the six cadets still serving as police officers, it was obvious they were proud, but the life was still very much in the present. A great career for each of them I’d say.

For me, having done nine years, there was a certain level of marvel at revisiting the college, and with it all the memories stored away. Some things I don’t remember I ever knew. On the tour the subject of remuneration came up “$8990 was our starting salary” I declared. Turns out that was only if you had UE – otherwise it was a $1000 less! Parts of my career are stored for ever there and I never knew – the display in the Museum of the Rainbow Warrior bombing where I had been brought in to support as 2 i/c Exhibits, the Trades Hall bombing where, with a Detective Sergeant, I had been privileged to conduct the Auckland-based enquiries, and the memorial to Police officers killed on duty including a Sergeant I had known in Dunedin. All sobering and satisfying to reflect on all at the same time.

Sharing a cup of tea in the canteen at the end of the tour I chatted to the latest recruits, to discover that their patron is one of my partners at PwC. Small world. If they represent the police of the future, we are very fortunate. Far more mature, and balanced than I recall we were!

I hope these beautiful people in training that I met from the latest recruit wing don’t mind their photo here. We are in good hands with these fine people in blue.

There’s practical stuff I learned in the police that I use every day in my work still – freeze the scene! – which is more about capturing electronic devices in my work now, but the principles are just the same as for a physical environment, and capturing and recording evidence for use in Court.

But the gift of the training and the time in the police has been holding onto resilience, perspective and calmness under pressure.

I use that every day too. It’s good leadership.

Thanks to the police for quite a lot actually.

Stephen

Whānau time

Whānau time

It started when Thomas my eldest son arrived at the Airport after four and a half years in Europe. Walking into the terminal I told myself that I was good, I had been good during his departure, then cancelled trips due to Covid and then Cancer. But I felt it. “Are you okay Dad?”, not really, you? “no same for me too!” Then it was a booth breakfast with Thomas and his Mum and I. Twenty four hours ago working, looking after his family, now jammed in the booth, being grilled and given pocket money! It was a great start.

My next son Tim had a big birthday a couple of days later, then it was Dad’s 90th, a trip to Christchurch and a most special celebration – Mum and Dad’s 70th Wedding Anniversary.

Grandma had declined permission for Dad to marry when he was nineteen. You can’t blame her really. But on turning twenty, it was off to the Christchurch Registry Office a few days later in Manchester Street – midweek – and nuptials. Smiles all around and the happy couple settled in Christchurch where they still live. Mum’s still an Aucklander though “that easterly wind always gets you”, and as a family we had many happy holidays at Stanmore Bay, Whangaparaoa.

About 20 marriages a year make it to 70 years in New Zealand. No wonder you can’t find the pre-printed cards at Whitcoulls!

So what are Mum and Dad secrets: good genes, garden vegetables, sugar-infused bottled fruit, boysenberry ice cream, wholemeal bread, married young and keep a healthy bit of disagreement going on are my observations. When I interviewed Mum in advance of the big day she said having your own interests was really important. Fiercely independent was what it felt like as a child. Dad said Mum’s insights on money were really important, he said she was usually right in hindsight. Pocket money for Dad is what we saw.

We had 55 people join us to celebrate the big day All whanau. It felt rich and full.

Then it was my turn – move into my new house, a big birthday and a Whakawātea for friends, neighbours and those involved in the construction.

Going back to work I felt replete. A real turbo boost of those most special to me.

Think I need another break now!

Stephen

-I really did interview Mum and Dad. Some family were present. It was the conversation you won’t ever wish you had. I’ve done a few interviews in my time. This was beyond special.

-Statistics available on marriage length indicate that in the US about .001 of marriages make 70 years. About 20,000 marriages take place annually in New Zealand.

    Walking True

    Walking True

    Almost the last thing I did in 2021 was walk. It could be the year of the mask but it was the walking recovery year for me. After having a chunk of muscle removed from my right leg (with a tumour) in September 2020, I set out to do what I had endeavoured to do in 2020 and that was to walk at least 365 times.

    Under that goal you can have a day off, but be warned you have to make it up with two a day if you slacken off! I did 374 walks covering 1582.82 kilometres (I know, it’s the App – keeps it exactly – there’s no hiding). That would have been a reasonable marathon buildup distance back in the day. The average walk was 4.24km and the average per day was 4.33. It’s lower than I would like but I’ve noticed my resilience for longer walks building and 2022 will be about maintaining and building an average walk of 5km. I loosened my “minimum 2km” rule on account of the surgery but very few walks were below 2km. All walks were deliberate (that’s a rule), but I incorporated other activity like shopping, walking at my little piece of land, and occasionally to and from work.

    I listened to lots of music (became addicted to True by Spandau Ballet on the walks) and audio books – including 1984 with a mention almost exactly ten years ago on this blog (by Orwell – one insight: it’s happening in parts of the world), Brave New World (Huxley – it could happen), Animal Farm – I love this book, something about the farm, not just the story (Orwell – it’s happened in many places), A Promised Land (Obama – opportunities missed from fear of one’s own authenticity), The Tragedie of MacBeth (a play! – Shakespeare – violence begets violence), Leading Change (Kotter – it takes longer than you think), Skin in the Game (Taleb – only when you have actual skin in your game (work) do you have the rights to be heard), Apropos of Nothing (Allen – he’s funny, very funny and showing humour and grace when under attack is effective), Wuthering Heights (E Bronte – it was every bit as good as it was in the sixth form, and shaped me more than I realised – even the location of my new build to a degree), The Road to Wigan Pier (Orwell – cheer up for goodness sakes!).

    From walk #5 of 2022 this morning – Arthurs Point, Queenstown

    I walked in Auckland, Queenstown and Tauranga. Fewer places than I would usually, because of lockdowns and the resulting lesser travel. I have many favourite walks but standing out is Ohinerau – Mt Hobson – a gorgeous Maunga with spectacular views and sunsets and very close to home, the Arrow River by Arrowtown. Cornwall Park and the Domain are unbeatable really too. Maungawhau (Mt Eden) tests the cardiovascular system the best.

    Reading back at this blog as I drafted it I cringed a little at the mention again of my cancer, but it’s part of me (well I live in hope it’s not physically!), and shaped me in unexpected ways. It made resilience real in 2021, it forced me to face existential questions early on and removed a fear of disease. Having it in the back of my mind – brought to the front of the mind every x-ray check up – has sharpened me in 2021. Live for now and get on with what I want to get done. Build the house, spend time with those that matter, and none with those that take the energy.

    This is of course a leadership blog but after over ten years on it, there’s one constant which keeps me grounded in it and why sharing is necessary for leading. Authenticity. It’s everything in leadership. No degrees, accolades, books published or other high-sounding commendations can make up for a lack of it. Ask those who are led.

    And grace – my word to start the year – we’re all human, so I try and will try more show grace in good times and in adversity. An old-fashioned word that captures how I’m feeling. And True? That’s the song I got addicted to on the walks. No idea why, but it’s true.

    hari tau hou – happy new year!

    Stephen

    p.s. the featured image is also Arthurs Point, Queenstown this morning – a stiff walk uphill!