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 past 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?

The maze

Stepping inside, the sun vanishes from sight and the air around instantly cools my warm skin. And so I begin my journey to find the centre of the maze. Following the hedged wall around, I find myself facing the first choice of the afternoon; Left or right? I ponder this dilemma briefly before turning off to the left and continuing on through. There is something oddly comforting about being lost in here and I have no choice but to let go and listen to the birds singing knowingly all around. Before long, once again, I am faced with another decision. Straight ahead or veer off to the right? Both pathways look tempting in an absolutely identical way. I turn off and continue on. I have been walking now for about twenty minutes, still none the wiser as to the location of my destination. 
And as I journey onwards through the leafy maze, I begin to think about all the times I have felt lost. In life, there is no map to guide us. When we hit a wall, we have no choice but to stop, turn around and continue on a different path. Sometimes, we can put so much effort into something only to find ourselves right back where we started, we don't think we will ever have the energy to try again. 
But regardless of whether we turn left or right, go straight ahead or turn back the way we came, there will always be another corner to take, another dead end to hit and another choice to make...and that's ok; we always find our way in the end. 
And that afternoon I did, just when I least expected it.

Moments

Autumnal evening rain begins to fall. The sky was blue when I left the house this morning and now cool drops are finding their way onto my face as strangers around me begin to rush home.

I make my way up the steps towards the platform and look up at the illuminated board.

Next train: 4 minutes.

At least I'm undercover. And so I stand there at the top, sheltered from the rain, looking around.

I watch as a couple on the other platform walk slowly from one end to the other, pulling heavy cases behind them. I wonder where they have travelled from and where they are going. The only other person on my platform is a man sitting at the end, engrossed in the evening edition of a newspaper. I wonder what story he is reading and what he makes of this crazy, beautiful world we live in. My attention is pulled upwards as a plane begins to climb noisily away from City Airport. Soon it will be high above the clouds just in time to catch the last glimpse of a burning sunset, invisible to the rest of us down here.

Next train: 2 minutes.

My mind starts to wander and I think about how everything seems to be in a constant state of change. Conversations and moments flood my mind as rain continues to fall onto glistening concrete.

And then I realise something.

I will never again be standing on this platform, watching these particular people on this wet, late September evening. As soon as I leave here, this moment will be gone, forever.

As the train pulls gently in, I'm reminded that wherever we go in life and whatever we do, we only ever have this moment...And everything's perfect.

Seasonal sounds

The chandeliers dim and a hush falls over the audience. A scent of dark, solid wood hangs heavy in the air and I watch as candles flicker and dance all around. The orchestra begins to tune their instruments, creating a jumble of chaotic sound. Bows stroke strings and air blows through reed. After a few seconds, silence once again falls through the church.

And so it begins.

A melody written over 400 years ago comes back to life in an instant and as I close my eyes, I wonder how many people have heard this piece over the centuries.

Violins, cellos and oboes come to life to create the most beautiful sound which wafts up towards me and straight into my heart.

A cold police siren whizzes past, breaking my peace and I am temporarily reminded that I am surrounded by 7 billion people. And as I fall back into the music I notice that the deep blue sky which earlier spilt in through tall windows has now been replaced by a duskiness that serves only to make me feel cosier.

I suddenly realise that autumn is back. The cool nights will be drawing in and leaves will fall. A pang of sadness washes over me as I realise that I never got a chance to say goodbye to our lovely last season. Something magical happened this summer with London 2012 and I can't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I have been changed forever.

Desert lights

As the lift doors slide open, a wave of bright light and electronic noise smashes into me. I step out into the hotel casino and my senses are suddenly electrified. Snaking my way through the endless rows of hypnotic slot machines, I slow for a moment to watch the woman with her back to me. Mesmerised by flashing lights and spinning wheels, she reaches into her large plastic cup without looking and pulls out a handful of quarters. One by one she delicately places them into the slot and continues to push random buttons. She must be doing something right as no sooner as she does this, a handful more are spewed out the bottom. She barely cracks a smile and I can't help but wonder how long she has been sitting there; it is still only 8.30am. 

I smile for her. 

As I continue onwards past green poker tables and spinning roulette wheels, I notice that there is something very warm and cozy about being in this surreal bubble; the lack of any natural light just adds to my sense of disorientation.

Walking through the lobby and out of a revolving door, the burning sun instantly warms my face and it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the new light.

I am suddenly struck by the peculiarity of standing in the middle of a desert, surrounded by all of this. I love the randomness of it all...and right on cue as I turn the corner, two lycra-clad superheroes walk casually past sipping their Starbucks as they make their way to work. 

In a few short days I will be back home again. But right now, I'm where I'm meant to be. 

And it's glorious.