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How about that for a title?
How about that for a photo?
How about that for a reaction?
OK, so I admit that maybe my sons yawn was down to tiredness more than anything else, but what if it wasn’t?
I don’t know about the other dads on here, but I often find myself – at 4am, when I’m trying to calm him down from his latest screaming extravaganza – telling him all sorts of stuff.
From how much I love him.
To how much my Dad would have adored him and how much my Mum did adore hm.
To what I hope for him.
To what everything around him is called and what it does.
Floors. Windows. Lights. Cats.
And then that got me thinking about what I’d tell him if he asked me what I did for a living.
To be honest, I’ve struggled with this for many, many years … and that sort-of bothers me.
Policeman wouldn’t have that problem.
Lawyers wouldn’t have that problem.
Even creatives wouldn’t have that problem.
Sure, their discipline has had longer to establish itself in the public consciousness but the fact is what they do stuff is tangible. Stuff that you can see, hear, feel and touch.
What the fuck do we do?
Sure, we do stuff that leads to the stuff you can see, hear, feel and touch but it’s all a bit bollocks isn’t it.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dissing the discipline … it’s important and enjoyable … but the fact it’s hard to describe what I do and that every single planner I know has a different explanation for what they do is troublesome and probably explains why so many people in our industry think we’re a waste of space.
Mind you, when you call yourself an ‘epiphanies hunter’ [which someone I vaguely know actually does] I don’t blame them.
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