The pursuit

And the game had begun. In hot pursuit of my suspect, I ran as fast as I could past my friend's front door with peeling red paint, past the corner shop selling all my favourite Cola Cubes, over the grass hill peppered with daisies upon which we occasionally danced, and out onto the small side street sloping all the way down towards the nursery. Approaching the only parked car on the quiet street, my walkie-talkie crackled with white noise as something caught my eye and glinted in the afternoon sun. I stopped suddenly to investigate, blocking out the voice now coming out over the airwaves. And there at my feet lay £10,000,000 worth of sparkling princess cut diamonds! Scooping them up carefully in my hands, I poured them into a pocket and got straight onto the walkie-talkie to excitedly announce that I had discovered the abandoned treasure from the heist. Ignoring the brick inside the car that had shattered the window into a million pieces the night before by a stranger, it was definitely the find of the century in this make-believe moment. 
Years later, I smile back at those long summer days of playing cops and robbers until the sun went down and of the time that broken glass was magically transformed into 1-carat pieces. 
Sometimes in life we get so lost in the pursuit of happiness, we can miss the beautiful moments that are already all around, glinting in the sun, just waiting to be discovered.

Click, flash

A generation gone stares back at me through a sepia-toned window. As soon as I open the dusty album, images and associations splash silently over me. Relatives I once knew and loved smile joyfully through the lens, straight into my heart; some proudly wearing medal-embellished uniforms, others sporting the latest beehive hairdos equally as proud.
I look on as page after page reveals another connection to my past, another piece of the puzzle.
And then, just as I am beginning to get lost on this little trip, a wave of melancholy gently washes over me as I am reminded of how fleeting everything is. Life seems to go by at such velocity these days, we can sometimes forget to take the moment to stop and notice all the amazing things that surround us; people we love, the random acts of kindness, lessons learnt through tears.
We click and capture those precious memories that act as a witness to our own personal journey, and despite being utterly powerless to alter our past, there is a freedom in the knowledge that we still have today...a chance to grow, to change, to fly.
And as I optimistically turn the final page of this dusty collection, I can't help but wonder about all the albums that are yet to come; pages of moments that will last an eternity.

Dust down

As I bang my hand onto the chair's stripy blue canvas, particles of a season's worth of settled dust are released out into the air. It suddenly hits me how long it has been since I've sat out here. Apart from the semi-constructed concrete shell blocking the once uninterrupted view of Canary Wharf, my physical surroundings are exactly the same.
And so I sit, looking out over towards the flowing canal which lies just beyond budding branches. For a long time it seemed as if everything had died; barren limbs blew patiently in the breeze, waiting for the moment of change. They waited and waited, never giving up hope, stoic against frosty mornings and stormy evenings. It looked as if they would remain this way forever...
Then, just like clockwork, everything began to change. The sun came out and bathed everything in its warmth.
Something catches my eye, pulling me out of my reverie. As I look down towards the daisy-filled grass, I notice a bumblebee making its way through the air and come to rest on a clover patch. It is the first one I've seen in months and heralds a new beginning.
I am suddenly struck by how delicate life really is; it is precious, and beautiful, and amazing, and perfectly imperfect. Beneath heartbreak and struggle, something truly special lies. Seasons change and people grow, and even in our darkest days, in incredible ways, life has a way of making us smile once again.



My love goes out to everyone touched by tragedy, and pray that one day, you too will smile once more.

The boy who changed the world

Our darling Alex,

I'm sitting here with coffee in hand, watching the airport slowly come to life all around me. There is a little truck filling up the plane, and directly above, a half-moon shines dimly behind drifting clouds. 
The sun is not yet up, but already I've thought about you a hundred times. I feel you everywhere; you never left us. 
I turn my head just in time to see a plane rumbling noisily down the runway and gracefully lift off into the early morning sky - it is your daddy. 
Suddenly, a memory flashes into my mind. I'm back in the church, with you by my side. And as the Lord's Prayer wafts gently out over the pews, I close my eyes and say a prayer of my own...a prayer for the little boy with a gigantic heart. 
You taught me that we can be much stronger than we ever thought possible, and frankly, my darling, I've never met anyone braver or stronger than you...and doubt I ever will again. 
You are bigger than your body gave you credit for, and because of you, I now believe in angels and tiny miracles. 
You laughed when they gave you an hour, and you laughed at a week, a month, a year. Only now, I realise that you had something else in mind; that defiantly cheeky smile of yours said everything we needed to know. The smile that lit up a room will light up my heart, forever! 
We have been changed by you, and will never be the same again. 
The world is just that little bit brighter, that little bit warmer, and all because of you... 
Wherever we go, and whatever we do, you will always be carried in our hearts, safe and warm inside. 
Thank you, little bird, for being the sunlight in our dawn, our angel in the snow. 

Always...

Dancing in the next room

I cut a rectangle out of the blank, red card and watched as the remainder fell gently down onto the desk. Laid out before me, sparkling glitter, colourful pens, scrunched up tissue paper, and smelly white glue waited patiently to be transformed into something beautiful. And so, I began creating with all the other children in the class. I glanced around the room to see paper flowers and tissue hearts being fixed enthusiastically into place. We made those cards every year for Mother's Day, and every time, I couldn't help but wonder where she was.
So I would sit, drifting off to another place...
And suddenly I saw all the mothers on the other side. Lifting trailing skirts up off the floor, they span around and around, laughing heartily as they twirled. Hair flew weightlessly in the breeze; eyes sparkled as they danced on and on, as free as birds. Bodies moving to the music without a care in the world; it's the dance of the mothers, dancing of angels. Swapping tales of their loved ones in the next room, they laughed affectionately until their sides hurt. The connection between here and there, them and us: unbreakable...
Suddenly, my attention was pulled away from the spectacle and once again, I found myself back in the classroom with glitter-covered fingers and a smile on my face.
Years later, even now when I dance, I will occasionally think of her spinning around next to me as the music plays on, happy in the knowledge that the ones we love never really leave us.


Happy Mother's Day to all the beautiful women out there, shining their love for all to see.

Timing

We grabbed our bags from the overhead bins and literally ran off the plane. The mad dash through Vienna airport to catch our connecting flight was hectic. With the doors closing in less than a minute, we weaved frantically in and out of the crowd. Stepping inside the warm cabin, hearts pounding, foreheads glistening, we made our way to our seats against a backdrop of sarcastic applause. I couldn't be bothered to explain about our aborted landing minutes earlier, and instead, decided to just sit and have a cold drink. And that's when I found a group of passengers sat in our seats, refusing to move. After a battle of words, the flight attendant came along, barked at us to disperse, and told us to find any free seat so that we could take off. And so I turned, left my friends, and made my way towards the back of the plane to squeeze in between two passengers who had absolutely no intention of allowing me passed easily. This was going to be a long 11 hours! 

It wasn't until I eventually drifted off into a light sleep that I finally let go and began to look forward to seeing Thailand for the first time.
It was magical, enchanting, and life changing.
Then, the tsunami came.
The flight home was a bit of a blur. Looking around at the half-empty plane, a thought occurred to me. What if everything did indeed happen for a reason? What if we were meant to be late that evening so that those people could sit together one last time? Are we ever really late for anything, or do we always arrive at exactly the right moment?
Looking out down towards the clouds, tears rolling down my face, I said a quick prayer for everyone who wasn't on the plane, and made a vow to breathe with life, trusting that I will always be  where I am meant to be.

Winds of change

Sunday morning mist cloaks the horizon and conceals everything beyond the green grass outside my window. As I sleepily open up the terrace door and step out into the open, cool air rushes down into my lungs and I welcome this wake up call. Everything seems so peaceful this morning and I am momentarily lost in the quiet; nothing else exists beyond the colourful stripy chairs and empty plant pots that surround me. 
Breathing deeply, I turn to look over at Canary Wharf; it too has vanished in the mist and despite not being able to physically see it in this moment, accumulated hours of observing every contour, window, and reflection have left an imprint safely in my mind. I love this view. Memories of sitting outside on balmy summer evenings and looking over at the shimmering lights of the tower fills me with warmth.
My eyes follow the line down towards the empty wasteland immediately in the foreground...
The diggers arrived before Christmas, followed shortly by the majestic cranes. Earth was gracefully lifted and moved; holes were bored and cement was mixed. Every sunrise brought with it a change and slowly but surely, bit by bit, walls began to grow skywards.
Then I realised something; with each passing day, the clear view of the beautiful towers were slowly disappearing right in front of my very eyes. Soon, within a matter of weeks, they will be gone completely from sight...forever. The countdown has already begun.
The winds of change are blowing gently onto my face once again and now, looking over into the morning mist, I can't help but wonder if this is a sign that it might just be time to move on to the next adventure.

Stroll

For the first time in ages, I am not in a rush. Not late, not hurried, at peace. Dusk is quickly setting in as I stroll along Southbank and up towards the National Theatre. 
The last remaining rays of evening sun reflect off the rippling water to give everything one last burst of light, before vanishing for another day. Within a few minutes, it will be night-time, and the illuminated iron lamps will guide the way.
I love it here.
Boats hypnotically snake their way along the current-filled river and I watch as the undulations are momentarily displaced before calming again, leaving no trace whatsoever that the vessels were ever there.
And I continue onwards under the protecting canopy of trees, breathing deeply once again as a light evening drizzle blows in and gently places a cool mist onto my face. The city has been harsh lately and I welcome its gentle embrace once again. I have wanted this, needed this. 

Sometimes in life, things get difficult; swallowed up by identical days and freezing nights, it’s easy to get lost in the maze; but somewhere, buried deep in the solitude of restlessness, lies something beautiful, calming. We all need these moments of quiet to reset, and as the colourful banners of the theatre come into view, I’m suddenly struck by how important it is to have people in our life who will love us unconditionally and always be there for us when things get tough.

Tin house, warm heart

As I turned the corner, I saw it; half tin, half brick, my friend's house stood on the estate, unassuming. For years I had heard every derogatory word used to describe him and his family from the other kids...but he was nice and despite getting some stick, I thought it rude to refuse a dinner invitation. So here I was, straight from school walking up to the front door. As soon as it swung open a beautiful woman stood there and warmly welcomed me into her home. I stepped inside. It wasn't until the door closed behind us that I noticed the cardboard boxes piled high along one of the walls. As I took off my coat, curiosity got the better of me and I couldn't help but peep inside an open one which sat there, tempting. There before me lay a veritable feast of teeny Christmas cracker novelties; puzzles, dice, magic tricks, key rings, mini tool kits, fortune telling fish, plastic rings, Tidily Winks, tiny playing cards and colourful whistles - all the good stuff that used to put a smile on my face as they came flying out with a paper hat and witty joke. To me, his mum officially had the best job in the world. 
After a short while she came out of the kitchen and proudly put bowls of food down in front of us. "This is Frankie’s favourite", she declared with a warm smile. 

And then it hit me...

The love that was present in that room was far greater than all the things they didn't have. They really didn't own much at all, but in spite of that, I was sat at their table sharing their food. It was a lovely evening. 

Years later I look back at that moment and realise something; in life, we may not be financially abundant or have all the latest shiny must-have gadgets, but as long as we have love in our hearts and a generosity of spirit, we will always be wealthy beyond our wildest dreams.

First

Walking out into early morning, the sky, still a sleepy blue, begins to wake. It is literally freezing this morning. At some point during the night, whilst I was fast asleep, the first few flakes of snow fell silently to earth. The light bouncing off the crisp whiteness bathes me in its glistening glow. And then I hear it, I feel it...The sensation that suddenly floods my body with utter joy; snow crunching and compacting under my feet. Being one of my secret pleasures in life, I begin to smile as I take a deep in-breath of air and watch as a cloud of warmth leaves my body and vanishes just as quickly. 

With the realisation that this is the first snow of the year, I begin to think about all the other firsts in my life; the first time I came to this bustling city, alone...the first time I sat on a plane and watched the ground drift away...the first time I ate gelato...the first kiss...the first time I found love and the first time I lost it. 
Life is littered with firsts and, as constantly changing as the world is, that will never change. There are endless opportunities for new beginnings everywhere, and as I continue on my journey, I suddenly feel excited for all the firsts that are yet to come.

Journey on

The first candle I lit was for the little nana with a penchant for crochet and sparkly things, then another for the little school children I didn't know, then one for the brave woman who battled courageously right up until the very end, and one for the spirited man who simply gave up, tired and ready for the next adventure...I had lit too many candles this year. I was tired and emotionally drained. Nothing appeared to make any sense and the world was like a crazy ball of discordant mess.
And so, on the last day of the year, I closed my eyes and began to breathe…in and out, in and out, my lungs filling my chest. Overexposed snapshots came and went in a blur. Suddenly, in amongst the slideshow, a memory of being inside the Olympic stadium and the wall of sound that pounded straight into my heart flashed up. It was spectacular. Aside from all the tears and loss, this would also be the year that I witnessed determination and strength on a magnificent scale. I saw athletes without legs running faster than lightening and limbless swimmers moving gracefully through the water to a backdrop of rapturous applause and incredible support.
And then, as the clock struck midnight, in amongst all the fireworks and cheers, I realised something: There will always be new beginnings. Opportunities to heal and grow are everywhere because we are amazing and life goes on. Our spirits are strong and so is the love we hold in our hearts.
May you shine brightly in 2013 and find joy in everything you do.


Thank you so much for faithfully following my blog and for being a part of this incredible journey. I love you.

Dinosaurs and ice

As I say goodbye to the Diplodocus, I move smoothly through the revolving glass door and come out into the cold December evening. Walking down the steps, I turn my head to gaze down the length of this cathedral-like building and am immediately thrown back to when I first came to the museum as a child. It was like a dream, magical. Decades later, I am still awestruck by its sheer magnificence. Sparkling trees line the path, encompassing me in a festive cocoon and fills me with a sense of warmth and cosiness.

As I reach the ice rink bathed in blue light, something makes me want to stop. I stand there leaning against the thick Perspex wall and rest my head on folded arms. I watch as people wrapped up in woolly hats and scarves weave in and out of each other, circling, gliding. A smile creeps across my face as a couple struggles to stay upright on the ice. Like new-born lambs with limbs moving in all directions, they eventually land entwined onto the cold ice and I can't help but join in with their infectious loud laughter. And then, as the wind begins to pick up, I find myself drift off into thought. Our journey through life is rarely smooth. There are days when we glide effortlessly along the ice, picking up speed and dancing as we go. Then there are moments where we just can't find our balance. Despite all our best efforts, we still land flat on our face...but that's ok. Nothing is for nothing and sometimes it takes a fall to get us back on track. The best we can do is put both hands on the ground, push ourselves up and straighten our hair once again...For we are much stronger than we know.

A belated Merry Christmas to you all and I wish you all the joy in the world.

My heart also goes out to everyone who has lost loved ones this year. Say strong and remember that love is energy and energy never dies.

The gap

As I pull my favourite blue Japanese cotton scarf up around my ears, I make my way down the steps and onto the empty platform. For some reason there doesn't seem to be a soul around this evening. I walk up to the pillar that holds up the roof, and lean against it. For a brief moment, I am lost in the music flowing through my earphones and straight into my heart. There has been a chill in the air of late and for the first time this season, I watch as warm breath leaves my body and disappears into the cool wintry night.

And so I lean with hands in pockets, looking down along the silvery tracks that snake off miles into the distance.

Then something pulls my focus.

I glance down and notice three words printed boldly onto the cold concrete. How had I missed them until now?

MIND THE GAP.

These ten little letters suddenly get my mind spiralling off as I begin to think about the gaps in our lives. The space we have to cross to get to where we want to be and the things we tell ourselves along the way: I will be happy once I've lost the weight, and got that job, fallen in love and made that money...And when we eventually do get these things, we barely notice their presence in our lives because we are too busy thinking about how we won't be happy until we get that car and go on that holiday, have the baby and get that promotion.

I can't help but wonder if we are always in the gap. That space in between where we have just come from and where we are going. And maybe that's all there is anyway.

And could it be that within this gap lies our true potential? The potential to be courageous, loving, forgiving, inspiring, creative, generous, sparkling and fabulous?

Shift

The city is changing again. Just when I think I have a grip on it, something shifts. Last night's fitful sleep leaves behind a shadow of drowsiness. I should be closing my eyes but something pulls me out of bed. Shuffling into the lounge, I make my way towards the balcony door and pull aside the blinds. I have seen this hazy sun before. Everything around me glimmers; Canary Wharf, the crane which popped up from nowhere, and the green watering can filled with rain water; all bathed in the bright Sunday morning light. Reaching out, I touch the glass and immediately realise it’s cold outside. Warmth washes over me as I reach to take a sip of fresh coffee...something else catches my eye. A bundle of paper held together with a bulldog clip. Basking in the sun, it sits there on the side. Waiting, watching; my unfinished book.

The Christmas channel has started back again; 24 hours of non-stop made-for-TV movies. My mind leaps back to last year and the week I watched nothing but festive films back to back, wrapped up in a feather duvet. I smile as I look up at the pale blue cloudless sky. For some strange reason I jump to the cemetery in which my mum's body lies. There is no headstone. I try to picture the morning sun splashing through the trees and onto the damp grass below. She's out there somewhere, the woman who lives in my dreams. And as I take another sip of coffee, I can't help but wonder if I will ever stop looking for her.

Something extra

It happened in the early hours of this morning. I was fast asleep. Eyes closed, breathing deeply, I dreamt about people and places long gone by. The streets outside were quiet and deserted as city foxes came out to play in the light of the tall yellow lamps dotted all around. The almost full moon shone brightly, bathing everything in a silvery glow. I wasn't even aware of when the moment arrived. It crept in unannounced, without fanfare and waited patiently for the dawn. My eyes slowly opened to the new day, earplugs pulled out as I came to. And then I noticed its presence. The gift had arrived...And so I began to think about how I could spend this extra hour. Sixty minutes in our time doesn't seem that much but the possibilities held within it are incredible. We can do something wonderful to set in motion a chain of events that will change the course of our life, forever. We can tell someone that we love them, do something great for someone else or just lie back and enjoy the peace of living in the moment. It is ours to do with whatever we choose. Life is so precious, every moment counts and this bonus of an extra hour comes just at the right time. A time, in which life seems so cramped with stuff, we wish we had more hours in the day...and now, for a short while, we do.


So how will you spend your extra hour?