The Heroes Journey!

Hello friends. Firstly, I just want to sincerely thank anybody who comes here to read my stories. In light of everything going on in the world, you would still come here and spend your time reading whatever I have to say. For that, I am infinitely grateful. Really, it means a lot to me. So, I have this blog. I have this small channel here where I can tell stories and reach some people with my words. So I figured that I should make the best use of it in this unprecedented time, to offer whatever support I can in regards to the 4 weeks ahead. For most of us, we are entering a very strange and uncertain time. Here, I’m going to briefly discuss some things that I believe are important for navigating times like these, and help us keep calm, keep creative, and keep balanced. 1. Spiritual Practice I believe that the most important thing for us to focus on in a time like this is spiritual practice. I’m seeing these words ‘We can’t go outside, but we can go inside,’ being share

“BANG BANG, your doomsday’s delayed another day, doesn’t make your morning better nooowww… All I do is complain!” People crashed into each other. Beers sloshed. My head was pounding, and everything swirled. The bass was unrelenting. Unforgiving. The bass - more than mere sound. A vibration. A frequency. My fingers… it was me doing that, me creating that feeling. It seemed almost… angry. It sent the world tumbling, all colourful lights and chaos. With the drums and Tommy’s flaring guitar, everything collapsed into everything. And I crashed hard.  My eyes staggered open, ears ringing with the madness. I could have sworn I was at the Crown… on that stage playing the synth bass. Was I dreaming all of those scenes? Repeating the gig in my sleep? Dreams and reality seemed to melt into one, and I couldn’t recall which was real. Realising I couldn’t make sense of it, I reluctantly pulled myself out of bed and carried out my morning duties. Sitting at my desk, cereal crunching betwe

Dust from the churned gravel plumed as I leaned on the brakes, skidding to a halt. I launched out of the Emerald Wagon. Central Otago beamed, a proud shade of gold, and the mountains of the Southern Alps formed a great wall in the distance, their stracciatella peaks reaching skyward. That’s where I was heading: deep into those valleys with my camera and my keyboard, seeking images of winter perfection. It was more an escape than an adventure - I needed a break from the chaos that my life was collapsing into in Dunedin. All the failed attempts at trying to secure a job, and the struggle to solidify a daily routine clouded my mind. Making videos for my piano music in the seat of nature was the one thing that kept the wheel turning. And so that morning, spurned by a frenetic, coffee-induced whim, I shoved my gear into the back of the Emerald Wagon and dashed from Dunedin.  The chill of winter gnawed at my fingers, and I pulled over my gloves. Those mountains were calling. Five so

“Why didn’t I think of this sooner?!”  The thought hit me like a brick in the face. “Why don’t I busk in Dunedin?”  For 5 months, I had been wrestling with my financial instability, struggling to make the best use of my time, and falling deeper into a chaotic lifestyle. When my plan of earning an income from busking 3 hours away in Queenstown failed me, I seemed to cast out busking entirely. But why couldn’t I just do it in Dunedin? What was stopping me? It was some kind of revelation. We were all lounging about in the Pit, eating Tommy’s pizza, when it struck me. Our friend Thomas was up in the loft, picking out the next record. Johnny, our new drummer in SHEEP was also up in the loft, smoking a cigarette and puffing out the window. Tommy and Laith - another fellow in the gang - sat around watching a movie on the tiny TV screen that had a stacks of old video tapes for hair. And then there was me, bolting up from my seat on the rat-chewed couch. “I gotta go busking! Of cou

Tommy and I were traipsing through the Dunedin Botanical Gardens. We didn’t know what else to do. We were both consumed by a feeling of apathy, unproductiveness. Boredom.   “Man, I just don’t know what to do aye,” I complained. We had just entered a thick part of bush, and it felt a bit damp in there. It seemed to reflect my mood. “I handed my CV in to so many cafes. Like, at least 12. And didn’t get a single reply.” Tommy simply listened; he is good that. “I’m a Hospitality Management Graduate! I mean, I have experience!” Things seemed to only be getting worse for me and my so called 'Quest'. My keyboard was still broken and I couldn’t make videos. I was trying to get a job (finally), but nobody seemed to be interested in hiring me despite my qualifications. My motivation to practice my instrument and to begin writing stories for my blog had all but evaporated. The creativity and zest I thought I possessed was actually an illusion. Things were only getting worse…