Wisdom from the Don

Taglines from the BFG

Most mornings you can find me in a somewhat rushed state, one hand pinning my should-have-washed-that-last-night hair back, while the other composes elegant negotiations as to why that logo does not need to be red nor bigger – at the same time reasoning with my other half about why the lead vocals of Biffy Clyro are just unlistenable for me (pronounce your words properly, mate!) In the blink of an eye – after I’ve jammed a less than compliant contact lens in – I’m sitting at my desk. It’s barely 9am and I have already wedged myself onto a musty train and completed my daily upper arm workout to try and apply eyeliner somewhat near my eye whilst riding the District Line rollercoaster. I’m wiped and now I need to be creative.

In the back of my mind all I can hear is my late Uncle Don’s voice. He was one of those family members you’re not too sure how you’re related to so you just settle for Uncle. Don lived in a sleepy house on a hill in Torquay. On walking up the winding path, the sea air permeating your senses, you would enter his humble abode and just stop. The speed of life suddenly changed as if you’d stepped through some casual portal to where the ticking of the clock was silenced. If you’re trying to imagine Don, just think of the BFG – complete with hair growing out of his ears and nose. I didn’t know it at the time, but this friendly giant would give my life a monumental slap quite a few years after he left his house, Torquay, and his family for good.

For many of my educational and professional years I have associated busy-ness with success. A freelancer straight out of university, I wanted to show the world I was lavishing my every waking hour on graphic design because, a: I was completely in love with it; and b: I needed to be a success. I was sprinting morning, noon and night, and even though I felt like I was running through custard, it didn’t matter: no pain no gain.

Truth is, I was quick. I’m talking Usain-Bolt-quick. I was quick to take contracts, quick to complete work, quick to learn, quick to analyse and quick to criticise. My professional muscles started to look sharp and defined, structured in such a way so that there was no space for alteration. I bullishly worked my way through projects with a speedy eye and sharp tongue.

Then fatigue hit. I was slow, any movement was painful, simple tasks were agonising, my mind was on a constant sugar-low, my reactions were shaky at best. Frustration and anger set in. I felt out of it, wanting so badly to run again, but I was crippled. There was such an urgency inside to get better and to do it quickly.

That’s when I heard Uncle Don.

“What’s the rush?” he would say frequently, pottering around his house, leisurely walking into town, tying knots in his handkerchief hat and doing lunges in the middle of the road.

You see, Don was a prisoner of war, and though I was never old enough while he was alive to understand or ask him about this time of his life, I imagine that the enclosed, restricted life he experienced inspired him to live his later life in a spacious and unrestricted time manner. Don’t get me wrong, he had a far from minimal life. Rooms in his house were spilling over with trinkets and treasures, tins full of buttons and dust-covered pianos. Even a bomb shelter still graced the back garden. He cherished everything, made time for everything and had a memory for everything. The BFG left us with many surprises, not to mention the stacks of diaries, each day filled meticulously with a weather report and what he had done on that day: every day filled with precious memories.

I don’t know about you, but so often I wake up not knowing what day it is, or what happened the day before. It’s at these times I simply have to let Don’s words rest on my ears. Don’t mishear what I’m trying to say, I’m not going to start turning up to meetings late all of a sudden and I’m not trying to abolish deadlines (although how nice would that be?) I love to work, putting in hard graft invigorates me. I just want to encourage you – as well as myself – to lift your head up from time to time, feast on the eye-candy that is nature, spend time with friends with no motives other than to laugh, sit, read a book, have a long bath, go on a date and more importantly, don’t feel guilty about it: you are not a failure. Make space in your life to store up the trinkets and treasures of memories, silence the ticking of the clock and write down what the weather’s like today.

I owe a lot to Uncle Don. He, along with family, friends, my better half, God and indeed some medication got me through one of the darkest and agonising times of my life – and I can’t believe how bright and free it is on the other side. Funnily enough, now I am involved in dream-like projects which feed my passion everyday, I am by far the happiest I have ever been. And my time? I have some to spare to go around!

Michael Beirut’s quote rings true to me when he says: 

“Not everything is design, but design is about everything. So do yourself a favour: be ready for anything.” 

This is impossible when you’ve got your head buried in pixels 24-7: your vision becomes narrow and, frankly, you become rather boring. If lactic acid has taken over your body, then keep moving – the pain will go away soon, don’t rush things.

So this evening, or whenever you get a spare minute, I invite you to share in my Uncle Don’s wisdom. Take a deep breath of sea air and step through the casual portal. Raise your glass of wine, cup of tea or Coke float to Uncle Don and ask yourself: “What’s the rush?”