Last week I said goodbye to 2.5 years in the advertising industry - 2.5 beautiful, tumultuous, transformative, lovely, but soul-sucking years in the advertising industry. And boy, oh boy I’m so thrilled to start a new chapter at Makers & Brothers.
I am so excited, but a bit heartbroken to leave an agency that’s been so wonderful to me — truly, the first place that’s really felt like real work since I’ve been an adult human. Leaving Rothco has been an emotional experience - I’m so proud of what we’ve accomplished in the last few years, and I have learned SO MUCH more than I’d ever expected. The Rothco team is world class, and I have been so lucky to work with them.
But: I love great design and organisation so this gig is a match made in heaven. Over and out.
Forgiveness, like most things in life, has turned out to be more complicated than I once thought. I’m not naturally a forgiving person. If someone has betrayed me, I’d just as soon remove them from my life and move on. I’m far too lazy to be vindictive, but I heartily approve of vengeance when sought by my (less sedentary) fellow man. It may not be mature, but it works for me.
I always assumed that forgiveness was a sort of zen state that you gradually worked toward, until you’d finally let go of your anger and animosity. It was almost like a homemade gift that you slowly created and then finally gave to whomever hurt you. But if you were to ask me now if I forgave them, the only answer I could give you would be this: sometimes. There are moments, though rare, when I hate them as much as ever. I wish them all the worst in life and truly hope that all of their dreams turn to ash before them. Then, more commonly, there are days, weeks, or months when I think of them not at all. And then there are those times when I remember them fondly. I see only the good times we had, the wonderful memories they gave me. I see them for all they were; all their goodness and all their flaws. I accept them, and in that acceptance, “there is a kind of love.” And yes, I guess there is forgiveness, too.
The past few weeks have been stressful but UNREAL at work. And I’ve barely been able to enjoy an evening at home. Today, as I was headed up to bed I noticed that the kitchen was an absolute mess and I started winding myself up trying to clean up, move bottles out for recycling, and wash up counter top stains. By the time the kitchen was clean, I was in a mood.
But then I realised that today is November 8th. 15 years ago, my uncle died. And I still miss him all the time. The kitchen doesn’t matter. The stress at work will go away and dissipate eventually. But I’ll never see Brendan again. Perspective. It’s nice to have every once in a while.