Strike

The ball rolls up the ramp and gently clunks into the one in front. My favourite is still the sparkling blue one which reminds me of a moonlit swimming pool... But that was too heavy. Shame. It totally went with my outfit. Then there was the mauve ball...too light. Eventually I had settled on the matt green one which was just right. I wondered if Goldilocks would have had this much trouble choosing.
I slide my fingers into the holes and take a step forward for the penultimate time. Swinging the ball, it lurches forward as I release my grip and watch as it hits the floor with a dull thud. Suddenly picking up momentum it rolls quickly down the alley in an emerald blur and smashes slightly off-centre. All but two pins remain. And there they stand, taunting me in the distance...
I wait impatiently for my trusty ball to come rolling back as I visualise the pins falling to the ground, followed by rapturous applause and fireworks. 2nd place was within my grasp.
A flutter of excitement grows in my tummy as I send the ball flying towards its final destination. It is veering dangerously to the left but that's ok. It will correct itself in a minute...any minute now...and so I believe right up until the moment it plops into the gutter.
Shrugging my shoulders I turn, laugh and make my way back to my cold beer.
Sometimes in life things don't turn out the way we would like them to. As much as we want it, we don't always get that job, that person doesn't always love us back and our lottery numbers never seem to come up. But that's life. Everything happens for a reason and maybe, something even more amazing is waiting just around the corner.



Just to let you know that issue 3 of the wonderful PoV magazine will be out next month and once again, I am honoured to have a piece featured in it so will let you know when it's out.

A piece of peace

Sunday morning in the city. Even at 6.30am, there is a buzz in the air. As I sneak a peek from behind the blinds, there is something about the morning light that piques my interest. I have been awake for a while now and, resigned to the fact that I'm not getting back to sleep any time soon, I get up and turn on the coffee machine.
There has been so much rain lately; this blue, cloudless sky brings hope of a lovely day. The ghostly moon, still visible, is obscured momentarily by a plane's contrails cutting across its surface and, picking up my favourite mug, I take a sip of hot, freshly brewed coffee.
A dog barks in the distance. I wonder what he has seen to make him so vocal at this time of the morning.
Sitting here on the balcony, I am amazed at how much is going on right now. The constant hum of traffic resonates all around me, framed only by singing birds and honking geese.
Right now, I'm happy; able to breathe for the first time in ages.
A memory of waking up in an Italian hotel somewhere flashes through my mind and vanishes just as quickly, leaving behind the echo of a forgotten feeling.
I watch as a pair of Canada geese sweep gracefully overhead and notice, for the first time this morning that the sun is reflecting off the canal, sending its shimmering light through the trees.
Right now, in my contentedness, I feel connected to everything that is around me and as I finish off the last of my coffee, I make a promise to come to this place again soon.

Breaking eggs

As the flour began to fall lightly through the sieve, I watched as the inside of the bowl turned white. Placing the sieve down, I reached for the first egg and sent it crashing down over the rim. A sudden crack filled the room as the contents splashed out into the dusty flour mound below. Soon the spotless work top became littered with shell shrapnel and I continued on, adding each ingredient until they were all together at last. I liked watching everything slowly come together with each stir of the spoon. It was like alchemy.
Once the final spoonful of mixture was dropped into its little paper case, I knew what was coming. I had no control over it and before I realised what was happening, my finger had made its way into the bowl, worked its way around the side and with a flourish, ended up in my mouth; my sweet reward.
Once they were in the safety of the oven, I had nothing to do but wait. As I surveyed the aftermath, I thought about the times in my life when things seemed so chaotic and messy. In the eye of the storm, it can feel like there is no light at the end of the tunnel and the knock-back is permanent. It never is however. Soon enough, if we’re lucky, we can come out of the other side, stronger and wiser with a much bigger heart.
In order to make a cake, we have to break a few eggs. Nothing is for nothing and every difficult experience in life holds inside it a beautiful gift. A gift of bringing us one step closer to the amazing person we truly are inside.

Loose strings

As soon as it happened I knew that something was horribly wrong! I had carefully place three fingers one by one on their strings and, finding their home, held them firmly in place to listen as the other hand stroked gently downwards. A discordant noise rang out of my room and floated off into the hallway, making a cat somewhere in the distance run off and hide, quivering under a bush. Surely it can't need tuning again? I only did it a couple of weeks ago and haven't played it since...Hmmm.
There is something quite therapeutic about tuning my guitar. The combination of listening closely to the vibration until it feels right is fascinating. It is always painfully difficult to ignore when a musical instrument needs tuning up, and as I begin to tighten the strings, I can't help but wonder why it isn't as obvious when our lives are just as out of tune. Suddenly our hearing isn't as acute.
Sometimes we forget to look at our lives and attitudes regularly, and without realising it, some of our beliefs can quickly go out of harmony with who we truly are. People around us can have such an effect on us that our strings change and we don't even realise. Every day we shift ever so slightly and we need to give ourselves a regular emotional tune up so we are the most authentic version of ourselves possible. It important to take that moment to listen to your life and pay close attention to the notes being played; what kind of symphony is being created and is it the best melody for you?

A quick thank you from the bottom of my heart for following the blog every week - It means so much and I love you!

The Queen of Hadleigh

'I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing'
- Anais Nin

And I ran though the moving crowd, weaving in and out of suits and bags and shoes and limbs. Pushing forward through a rush hour of people, it was warfare; the quicksand making everything more difficult. And I carried on fighting forward until the call came... It was too late. She had gone! And everything suddenly stopped.

The door opened and there she stood; bright red lipstick highlighting her cheeky smile. She would always kiss me on my lips with such delicateness, inside I would smile. And there we would sit for ages surrounded by colourful crochet and ornaments and fabric flowers and the gas fire and small ornamental furry cats and sepia toned pictures hanging proudly on the walls. A room filled with trophies of a life fully lived. Every now and then the sound of a snooker ball crashing into another followed by muffled applause would float out of the TV to catch her attention just long enough for me to stare at this frail, curly haired funny woman who fascinated me.
Reaching the front door she stopped and turned to the cupboard beneath the stairs. I always knew what was coming but managed to appear pleasantly surprised every time. Rummaging around for a moment she span around like a magician to reveal a tiny bag of sweets which she had pre-prepared in little clear plastic bags. There was always a treasure of sweet treats to leave with and I always felt the overwhelming urge to squeeze her so tightly when we hugged. And there she stood, waving and watching until we were finally out of sight.
In life, people come and go. Some stay for only a few minutes and others, a lifetime. And if we are really lucky, these people will leave an indelible mark on our hearts and there they will live eternally making us a better person in the process.

Nana Queenie, I love you and wish you joy on your new adventure.

Wet wings

The first few drops of cool spring rain splash onto the dark pavement below and quickly cover the bustling city. I watch as the drops roll down the glass and leave behind a glistening, hypnotic trail.
Light from shop windows spill out to reflect off the wet pavement and bounce up into the twinkling night sky. Everything shimmers around the giant angel wings in the centre of the square. I love those wings, outstretched and ready to fly.
Rain falls harder now and forces people below to run for cover in doorways and seek refuge from the sudden downpour. I smile as I watch the weaving dance with a feeling of warmth washing over me. I am right where I'm meant to be.
A memory of getting soaked to the skin in Milan splashes into my mind and rolls back out again just as quickly.
There is that magnificent moment when your clothes get sodden and you feel the cool water begin to seep through onto warm skin and you realise that there is no point in running for cover. And so you stand in the moment and become part of the downpour. The surrender brings peace. Nothing else exists in that minute.
The rain begins to ease off and doorways are slowly becoming empty once again.
I should make my way outside now and down towards the tube...but not just yet. I want to watch the angel wings for a little while longer.

Shiny and new

There they were; a thing of beauty and shining like a beacon of hope in my scary, new city. I knew I wanted some as soon as I saw them. I had saved up some money by skilfully reducing that week's menu down to a jar of sandwich spread and salted crackers; Delia would have been impressed (or horrified). I watched as the sales assistant popped them into the blue plastic bag and bade me and my new best friend farewell.
A rush of pure excitement flooded through me as I sat on the end of the bed and began pulling them up over each leg.
That night we danced like never before. No one else existed; it was just us and the music. We were indestructible.
The sun was already coming up by the time I walked out into the dawn. Snaking my way through the veins of the city, I watched as the streets started to slowly wake and rub its eyes.
I had completely forgotten about my silver trousers by the time I arrived home.
It took me a couple of seconds to notice Cathy Dennis standing there with an entourage of charity workers, blocking my way. After greeting me good morning they cheerfully explained that the charity needed one more person to pose for a promotional picture. As I was there (and sporting the brightest legs in Soho) I reluctantly agreed, suddenly feeling slightly overdressed for the occasion. Smiling broadly, I watched as the photographer clicked the camera, marking the end of this wonderfully strange day.
16 years and several make-overs later, I can't help but chuckle. No matter where we go in life or who we meet on our journey, there will always be 'moments' to take our breath away. Some will be amazing, and some, challenging. But they all make us who we are today and if we are really lucky, we get to wear silver trousers along the way.

Spring forward

The air has changed again; days getting longer and evenings, warmer. As I wander along the glistening canal, a swan glides gracefully across the surface and catches my eye. Watching her move through the water, I am lost in time and everything stops still. A memory of me as a boy watching planes thunder down the runway and lift off into the air comes back to me out of absolutely nowhere. I stay there until the sound of a train rattling somewhere in the distance pulls me abruptly out of my reverie. I continue on. The wind picks up and blows through the weeping willow, making the branches sway majestically. A man jogs past me and for a brief moment I can hear his lungs fill with air and quickly empty. I smile as I suddenly become aware of my own breathing and it occurs to me that we are all built the same; we are one. I can't remember the last time I jogged.
The early evening sun continues to beat down onto me and fills me with its last rays of warmth. Soon, the sky will get darker and the air, cooler. In a few short hours I will be turning my clocks forward again before drifting off to sleep. But right now, I'm here, walking along the canal with my bright yellow daffodils lining the path.

59 seconds

59 seconds...
My arms fling around her neck and I pull her in tightly. There we stand in our embrace. The world stops spinning as I feel her chest move in and out with every breath. I can smell her perfume. It throws me right back. With all my might, I pull away and look into her smiling face. Her auburn hair glistens in the sun and is blown ever so gently in the breeze.
47 seconds...
I am finding it hard to form words but I know that I don't have long.
"I have so many questions to ask, I don't know where to begin. Where have you been all this time? I couldn't find you anywhere".
She smiles.
"I didn't go anywhere, my darling. I have been here with you the whole time. Remember the day you stood looking over at the ocean and tears ran down your face? I was there holding you. Just look in the mirror; you have my eyes".
30 seconds...
"Do you have any regrets?"
She thinks about this question for a second.
"Life is too short for regrets, my angel boy. Every choice we make takes us to another place. There is no right or wrong; just life experience. We always get to where we are meant to be eventually anyway. Trust your instincts".
18 seconds...
A breeze picks up and swirls pink blossom around us.
"Why does life sometimes feel so hard? Some days it feels impossible to move through".
Her hands lift up towards my face and as they hold onto me, she looks directly into my eyes.
"There will always be challenges to overcome. That is part of life. Please remember, these are only opportunities to show the world who you really are. We are stronger than our bodies give us credit for. Use these times to shine, my darling boy".
7 seconds...
A wave of anger washes over me as I realise that this is it.
"I miss you so much. I wish you were always here. I have so many questions still to ask".
"I know my angel, I know. Everything we need to know is inside each and every one of us. Never forget how much I love you. I live in your heart. You are never alone".
1 second...
I hug her so tightly; I worry that she might break. The wind picks up...and she is gone.
Just one more minute.


If you could have just one minute more, what would you ask?

Cloudy morning

I close my eyes just as the watery Sunday morning sun finally pushes its way through grey clouds and lands gently on my face. The warmth quickly penetrates my skin and, for a few seconds, I am transported to a desert island somewhere with nothing but the lapping waves around me to keep me company. I am at peace and my mind is still from relentless chatter. Sensing my leave of absence, the clouds pull together and protectively cover the source of light. The air once again turns cooler as the sky closes in.
The squawk of geese flying overhead sends my mind racing once again. In the distance, through a gap in the clouds, bright rays begin to burst through and I wonder who is feeling it on their skin right now. I think about everyone who I have in my life; family, friends, Facebook pals; each and every connection just as important in my life story. A growing cast in the play, all feeling the sun on their faces at different times.
I realise right at this very minute, there are many people scattered across various parts of our planet, somewhere, who I love dearly. Some are probably laughing, some possibly crying but all of them, certainly feeling something.
The air is slowly changing. I can feel it. Soon the clouds will move south to reveal a bright blue, sparkling sky. Until then, I will watch and wait, happy in the knowledge that someone, somewhere is basking in the sun.

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Back to the future

This afternoon, I time travelled.
It came like a bolt out of the blue. Trees and pavement instantly melted away and before I knew it, I had been grabbed and thrown backwards into 1989. Verse to bridge to chorus; each chord holding me tighter and deeper in the reverie. I watched as I lay on my single bed looking up at my prized Kylie poster. Feeling every single piece of emotion rush back through my veins, I had no choice but to stay in the moment, reliving every second of a first love and giant dreams. Three and a half minutes later, I was back to 2012 with a jolt.
This shuffle button was causing me to leap backwards and forwards erratically without any concern for sequentiality. I had only just got my bearings when it happened again. 2009; I observed myself looking out of the tour bus window towards rolling Italian countryside. Engulfed by my history, I witnessed it all over again passively; the warm evening sunset reflecting off the glass on which I rested my head; it all felt so real. I was back.
Once again, the song faded out as I was picked up and flicked back to the future. And this continued on for the duration of my journey. Some songs made my stomach ache; some brought a big smile to my face.
Music is the soundtrack to our lives and as we move forward, certain songs will act as a personalised time travel machine. If we are lucky enough, these tunes will connect us to a moment in our story and be a reminder of how far we have come on our journey and how far we have yet to go.

Secret identity

Her name is Jane. No, her name is Annabelle. Long blonde hair cascading down over narrow shoulders, she sits opposite me and never once glances up from her romance novel. It is an escape for her. In a few short minutes she will be walking through the open-plan office and through to the kitchenette. Just as the coffee starts to drip into the pot, she will feel a strong arm around her waist, making her jump. She spins around and he kisses her passionately.
Personal trainer Carl gets on just before the doors close and sits down next to me. Placing his gym bag in between his legs he pulls out his phone. Scrolling through text messages, he grins as he stops at one. It is from his girlfriend Claire. No, it is from his boyfriend Brad. They are off to Vegas to get married and the flights have just been confirmed.
Music teacher Betty gets up, straightens her collar and gets ready to leave. She looks tired. I'm not surprised. Her newborn baby kept her up for most of the night.
As I walk towards the doors, Pilot Michael catches me in his periphery and looks up momentarily. Our eyes meet. I can't help but wonder who he sees standing next to him; Tom the photographer? James the lifeguard? Rufus the undercover police officer?
We all have a story, each one perfectly unique and if we are lucky enough, we get to see the real person behind the mask.

Room 209

The key card goes in, the light turns green and I swing open the door.
Falling back onto the bed, the crisp white linen crumples around me as I lie there in the darkness. I have no urgency to illuminate my surroundings, not yet. I remain there frozen in time. For now, this is right where I'm meant to be.
It's funny how, wherever one goes in the world, a hotel room will always be the same, the familiar in an unfamiliar city. Memories of a year living out of them come back to me in an instant. I relive every minute in glorious Technicolor as if watching a montage in a movie, accompanied by instrumental music. Laughter and tears resonate through my mind as they carry me across an ocean.
The sound of a door opening and closing somewhere down the corridor pulls me abruptly from my reverie just as the air conditioning unit clicks on and whirs into action.
My thoughts turn to the other guests above and below who are settling down for the evening in their rooms. What are they doing right this very minute? Watching trashy TV? Saying goodnight to a child on the phone? Brushing their teeth whilst feeling sick about their meeting tomorrow? The endless possibilities contained within the hotel grounds suddenly make the world a bigger place.
I roll over and reach into the darkness. Finding the button, I wake up my phone: 23:42. In a moment I will turn on my bedside lamp and get ready for bed, but not yet. I want to swim in this room for a little while longer.

Tracks

As the train rocks gently from side to side, the monotonous sound of clickety clack hypnotises me. I am caught in a trance. Gazing out across the horizon towards rolling fields and frosty hedgerows, I watch as the world whizzes by effortlessly. I am part of the blur.
Turning my head, I watch as the lovers opposite simultaneously take sips of hot coffee out of cardboard cups. The man to my right flips over his newspaper with a rustle, and laughter rings out a few seats in front of me; snapshots of people’s journey imprinted in my mind forever.
Sleepily, I turn my attention back out of the window just in time to see a couple of Canadian geese land gracefully onto the sparkling lake as we continue snaking onwards.
Life takes us in many different directions. Sometimes the journey is smooth and straight, other times, we are buffeted around in such a way that we can fall out of our seats. Some of the passengers on our train have been there from the very beginning, remaining for the entire journey as part of the furniture. Then there are the people who board for a few stops only. Their brief presence in our carriage infinitely enriches our life and changes us forever.
For a few moments nothing else exists. My eyes begin to close as I drift gently off into a deep sleep, trusting that I will awaken before my stop.

Risky business

I saw it again last night whilst walking through the darkened alley towards home. In between finger-like branches, it shone out in the shadows like a harbinger of doom, taunting me, teasing me. Its message was clear and echoed loudly as I continued on my journey. The sign designed to strike fear into the heart of every man, woman and child, stared silently down.
Averting my gaze, I looked up at the cloud covered moon with thoughts of danger bouncing through my mind as I continued on.
We climb aboard rollercoasters, jump out of planes, swim with the sharks and bungee off bridges. Aware of the hazards, we buckle up regardless and take that leap of faith into the unknown, hoping that we will get to live happily ever after.
With everything in life, anything worth doing carries a risk. Whether it be leaving the house or falling in love, there is always a chance that someone will get hurt. But these are the things which make life sparkle and we are braver than we give ourselves credit for.
Don't let the danger of death stop you from living; some things are worth the risk.