For millions of kids around the world, 1994 was the year they learned about the grim reality of death. It didn’t just happen to people who were old, sick, or careless. It could be completely unexpected. It might not even be your fault. Did they learn this after a death in the family or the unexpected loss of a friend? Not necessarily. It happened to somebody they didn’t know, personally. It happened to somebody who didn’t even exist in reality. But after they witnessed it, the imagery would stay with them forever…
I didn’t get to see ‘The Lion King’ at the movies, but as soon as it was available for overnight release, my family hired out the movie- and I loved it so much I watched it twice before we returned it to the video store the next day! But Mufasa’s murder didn’t have the same impact on me as it apparently did for other kids. Sure, I’d lost an Uncle and my Grandfather by the time of my 9th birthday. But it was another well-publicised death earlier that year, that had already awoken me to the harshest of realities. And like that morbid, poignant image of young Simba trying to awaken his still father, there was an image that stayed with me long afterwards. A moment in time that, indirectly, exposed me to one of the most morbid realities of our existence that there is. Long live the King….
For years afterwards, I would see that footage and wonder what it was like to be there, at that corner of that circuit in northern Italy? It was such a bright, sunny day but the grove of trees behind the perimeter wall looked so dark and ominous by comparison. How would it feel being there, conscious of what had taken place and what had been lost? Would it feel just the same as walking into the shady, bush-filled gully next to my school, or would it be different, even without any sense of foreboding?
Over the years, I would dream about standing there on the track itself, gazing up and down that length of bitumen, observing the shadows of the trees and the stillness in the air and the fact I was alone and I would feel so…even now it’s difficult to put into words how I felt. As Semisonic put it: ‘Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings’ end’. This spot was the end of one man’s life, but the beginning of my dream to be a racing driver and one day take his place as the greatest- and do that title justice. I knew I wanted to go there in real life to see it for myself, to discover whether it was at all like these dreams I had or whether it would feel as normal as anywhere else I’d been that was similar?
Fast forward to the very beginning of 2014, and it occurred to me that this year, on May 1, it would be 20 years since my (pre-Lion King), Disney-movie view of the world was torn down. I still hadn’t been where I’d gone in those dreams. But time only marches one way, and I didn’t have the money to go there. It remained one of those “things to do” on the bucket list. It would remain my visit to Graceland or Strawberry Fields. I thought little more of it than that as we eased into January and I delved into work instead.
Now for nearly a year up to this point, my family had been planning (and slowly organising) a trip to Europe. Mum, Dad and my sister hadn’t been there and were keen to check out the famous cities, sites and artworks that are abundant throughout the UK, France and Italy. I had my own life going on in Brisbane so I didn’t feel cut about the fact they were going on holiday and leaving me here in Australia. I’d already been to Europe, anyway. But then one afternoon in February, I got a call from Mum. On behalf of the family, she invited me to join them abroad in a couple of months. Of course I said yes! After I got off the phone to her, I thought back through the itinerary she’d discussed with me. They were jetting off at the beginning of April, and returning early in May. I realised that at the end of April, we would be in Milan. Less than half a days’ travel from the Autodromo Dino Ferrari, in the small town of Imola, where I had wanted to go for almost 20 years. I’d been planning to return to Australia on April 29, but suddenly it became apparent to me how do-able this would all be, if I just did a little re-scheduling. I called Mum back to check if I could stay with them in Milan for a few days longer…
So it was on May 1, 20 years to the day, I boarded a morning train from Milano Garibaldi station and, 3 hours later, found myself at the Autodromo Dino Ferrari with thousands of other people for the planned festivities and the commemoration of a great name. One of my first missions was to set off on foot, for that first corner of the circuit, just as I had done in my dreams. I hiked along the perimeter of the race track, with a couple of English guys I’d met at the station when we hopped off the train. We chatted about pretty much everything besides motorsport as we navigated our way along the anti-clockwise circuit, laughing and joking about. We could have been on a casual bush walk for all intents and purposes!
When I arrived there, at the corner? I found a gap in the perimeter fencing and squeezed underneath, until I stood on the other side of the tyre wall. It all felt so matter-of-fact. I took plenty of photos to remind myself just how normal and completely opposite to my dream it felt to be there, standing in that spot. Like the day of that fateful race, it was bright and sunny- yet the grove of trees was not at all sinister or foreboding. It felt much like anywhere in Australia...
Over the years, I would dream about standing there on the track itself, gazing up and down that length of bitumen, observing the shadows of the trees and the stillness in the air and the fact I was alone and I would feel so…even now it’s difficult to put into words how I felt. As Semisonic put it: ‘Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings’ end’. This spot was the end of one man’s life, but the beginning of my dream to be a racing driver and one day take his place as the greatest- and do that title justice. I knew I wanted to go there in real life to see it for myself, to discover whether it was at all like these dreams I had or whether it would feel as normal as anywhere else I’d been that was similar?
Fast forward to the very beginning of 2014, and it occurred to me that this year, on May 1, it would be 20 years since my (pre-Lion King), Disney-movie view of the world was torn down. I still hadn’t been where I’d gone in those dreams. But time only marches one way, and I didn’t have the money to go there. It remained one of those “things to do” on the bucket list. It would remain my visit to Graceland or Strawberry Fields. I thought little more of it than that as we eased into January and I delved into work instead.
Now for nearly a year up to this point, my family had been planning (and slowly organising) a trip to Europe. Mum, Dad and my sister hadn’t been there and were keen to check out the famous cities, sites and artworks that are abundant throughout the UK, France and Italy. I had my own life going on in Brisbane so I didn’t feel cut about the fact they were going on holiday and leaving me here in Australia. I’d already been to Europe, anyway. But then one afternoon in February, I got a call from Mum. On behalf of the family, she invited me to join them abroad in a couple of months. Of course I said yes! After I got off the phone to her, I thought back through the itinerary she’d discussed with me. They were jetting off at the beginning of April, and returning early in May. I realised that at the end of April, we would be in Milan. Less than half a days’ travel from the Autodromo Dino Ferrari, in the small town of Imola, where I had wanted to go for almost 20 years. I’d been planning to return to Australia on April 29, but suddenly it became apparent to me how do-able this would all be, if I just did a little re-scheduling. I called Mum back to check if I could stay with them in Milan for a few days longer…
So it was on May 1, 20 years to the day, I boarded a morning train from Milano Garibaldi station and, 3 hours later, found myself at the Autodromo Dino Ferrari with thousands of other people for the planned festivities and the commemoration of a great name. One of my first missions was to set off on foot, for that first corner of the circuit, just as I had done in my dreams. I hiked along the perimeter of the race track, with a couple of English guys I’d met at the station when we hopped off the train. We chatted about pretty much everything besides motorsport as we navigated our way along the anti-clockwise circuit, laughing and joking about. We could have been on a casual bush walk for all intents and purposes!
When I arrived there, at the corner? I found a gap in the perimeter fencing and squeezed underneath, until I stood on the other side of the tyre wall. It all felt so matter-of-fact. I took plenty of photos to remind myself just how normal and completely opposite to my dream it felt to be there, standing in that spot. Like the day of that fateful race, it was bright and sunny- yet the grove of trees was not at all sinister or foreboding. It felt much like anywhere in Australia...
The rest of the day was a memorable one- to meet fans from all over the world, see rare memorabilia in the circuit museum and to walk onto the track, in our thousands, down to that first bend and pause for a minutes’ silence at 2:17pm. Just a few months earlier, this only existed in my imagination. Yet of all the places in the world, of all the days- here I was.
Better still? Getting back to my hotel room in Milan late that evening, going online and finding THIS as the lead picture on the landing page of Italy’s number 1 sporting news website:
Better still? Getting back to my hotel room in Milan late that evening, going online and finding THIS as the lead picture on the landing page of Italy’s number 1 sporting news website:
More recently than that? At the beginning of this year, I had been weighing up my short to mid-term future. I’d been in Brisbane for 5 years and many of the people I knew when I arrived here, had either faded away or moved elsewhere. There was little to keep me in the river city anymore. But I had no idea what my next move would be, where I would go or what was a strong enough reason to go there? I couldn’t jeopardise the existing business contacts I had, but how was I going to manage my professional life if my personal life was racked with the distraction of not knowing where I was really meant to be? I had recurring dreams of being at large, multi-platform railway terminals- apparently an indicator of somebody who is at a period of juncture in their life and unsure which direction to go. The answer wasn’t coming, there wasn’t even the semblance of one on the horizon. I was stuck for a solution. But I had to keep my life running, so I did my best to push it to one side and keep on going about business as usual.
Then in February, I was invited to attend a three day conference down at the Hotel Grand Chancellor in Surfers Paradise with a couple of professional colleagues of mine. We’d collaborated alongside one another in our various fields for a few months by this stage. So I booked myself into the conference and along we went. We sat up the front as the guest speakers shared their wisdom with a roomful of people who’d come from as far as Perth or New Zealand to be a part of it. What ensued was a mad flurry of note-taking, note passing, shoulder tapping and whispering between myself and my two colleagues, as ideas and concepts popped into our collective minds like popcorn kernels bursting. But that wasn’t the only rush of mental activity that would energise me over those three days. On the second day, the woman I was with (who manages several networking groups in Brisbane) wrote a note and passed it to me while we were listening to the on-stage talk. The note said she’d decided to open another business networking group here on the Gold Coast. She wanted me to come on board in an official role. Coupled with the fact I was already heading down to the Coast once a week for uni lectures, in an instant my next move shone like the beam from a high-powered torch! By Sunday night, my next item on the agenda was to head home and begin looking online for my new place. Not long after, I dreamt about being on board a train, looking out the window and seeing several railway lines parallel to the one I was on- except they had been ripped up…
I write these words now, in the library of my university campus, just a 10 minute walk from my place here on the Gold Coast. My life is busier than it was 12 months ago while I was still in Brisbane- but it is more fulfilling. Those days of distraction and indecision late last year already feel like a lifetime ago. Yet I think back to them, then return to present and feel a rush of relief that this isn’t just a lucid dream! I have shared these two stories to illustrate that sometimes although we might (for all intents and purposes) believe that what we really want, need or dream of is far away, change could be just around the corner. Not just small change, like going somewhere we’ve wanted to go for years, but big change- like finding out where our next step is- and finding ourselves there. I don’t have a guaranteed formula for bringing these kind of changes on. All I can share is a motto I learned from my days in the Scouts: Be prepared. That thing, that person, that answer, that experience you seek, no matter how many years- decades- that you’ve been waiting for it- could arrive with the dawn tomorrow. But in the mean time? Keep on running, keep on striving, keep on dreaming. Nightfall will come around soon. Sometimes, big changes happen overnight…
Then in February, I was invited to attend a three day conference down at the Hotel Grand Chancellor in Surfers Paradise with a couple of professional colleagues of mine. We’d collaborated alongside one another in our various fields for a few months by this stage. So I booked myself into the conference and along we went. We sat up the front as the guest speakers shared their wisdom with a roomful of people who’d come from as far as Perth or New Zealand to be a part of it. What ensued was a mad flurry of note-taking, note passing, shoulder tapping and whispering between myself and my two colleagues, as ideas and concepts popped into our collective minds like popcorn kernels bursting. But that wasn’t the only rush of mental activity that would energise me over those three days. On the second day, the woman I was with (who manages several networking groups in Brisbane) wrote a note and passed it to me while we were listening to the on-stage talk. The note said she’d decided to open another business networking group here on the Gold Coast. She wanted me to come on board in an official role. Coupled with the fact I was already heading down to the Coast once a week for uni lectures, in an instant my next move shone like the beam from a high-powered torch! By Sunday night, my next item on the agenda was to head home and begin looking online for my new place. Not long after, I dreamt about being on board a train, looking out the window and seeing several railway lines parallel to the one I was on- except they had been ripped up…
I write these words now, in the library of my university campus, just a 10 minute walk from my place here on the Gold Coast. My life is busier than it was 12 months ago while I was still in Brisbane- but it is more fulfilling. Those days of distraction and indecision late last year already feel like a lifetime ago. Yet I think back to them, then return to present and feel a rush of relief that this isn’t just a lucid dream! I have shared these two stories to illustrate that sometimes although we might (for all intents and purposes) believe that what we really want, need or dream of is far away, change could be just around the corner. Not just small change, like going somewhere we’ve wanted to go for years, but big change- like finding out where our next step is- and finding ourselves there. I don’t have a guaranteed formula for bringing these kind of changes on. All I can share is a motto I learned from my days in the Scouts: Be prepared. That thing, that person, that answer, that experience you seek, no matter how many years- decades- that you’ve been waiting for it- could arrive with the dawn tomorrow. But in the mean time? Keep on running, keep on striving, keep on dreaming. Nightfall will come around soon. Sometimes, big changes happen overnight…