Enough

I am too old. I am not cute. I am too short. I’m not successful enough. I don’t have a toned body. My hair is peppered with grey. I am single. I can’t drive.
And I care too much…
With my mind spinning out of control like a defective rocket, I try to control my thoughts - but the more I try, the harder it becomes. And I am suddenly submerged.
I watch as rain starts to fall. The cold drops splash down onto the windowpane, each one leaving a trail behind it like a comet. People outside come and go, scurrying to find shelter from the downpour.
And inside the battle rages on.
Sometimes, we are so hard on ourselves. Our own name-calling can be deeply hurtful. I can’t help but wonder if we were actually told these things by another person, how offended we would be. We wouldn’t accept it from anyone else…so why do we allow it from ourselves?
And then, just when I think that I will never be able to shake this feeling, my phone pings: a text from a friend - her message is simple and loving.
Three words. Twelve letters. One truth:
YOU ARE ENOUGH.
They circle my mind and slowly filter their way down into my heart.
And I smile.
There are times in our life when the inner voice of doubt gets so loud, we can hear nothing else - the voice that tells us we are not interesting enough, not clever enough, not good-looking enough.
And there will be ups and downs - moments when we think that we will never be enough.
But maybe, just maybe, we are actually better than we ever imagined.
Maybe we were always more than enough!

On Guard

It would definitely shatter a bone, or two. The heavy iron end would smash through anything that got in its way. The protruding spikes were blunt and weighty. A shiver runs down my spine as I picture how many people have been on the receiving end of its deadly blow. 

Next to them sits the beautifully crafted rifles. Delicately decorated in Mother of Pearl and ancient ivory, it is hard to imagine that something so aesthetically pleasing was made to kill.
There are silver daggers, steel swords, and pocketknives, all designed to swipe and chop and slice and stab.
Gazing through the glass case, which protects the protective armour, I admire the craftsmanship of the smooth metallic suit. Every piece hammered and shaped perfectly to fit the contours of a man’s body.
As I continue walking around the armoury room of the Wallace Collection, I am suddenly struck by a thought: for all the ways we protect ourselves in war - the shields, the armour, the heavy weaponry - what about the everyday? How do we protect ourselves against the many other dangers that lie in wait?
There are times in life when I could have done with an emotional coat of armour myself. I would have made use of its thick steel skin as a heavy defense – that way my feelings would never have been hurt, my heart never broken, or my self-confidence severely battered.
Life can be messy and disorientating sometimes. But as long as we love ourselves with all our imperfections, and protect our heart by keeping it open, that might just be all the armour we will ever need.

Between stations

The gentle movement of the carriage rocks me closer to sleep. With a late afternoon sun burning brightly through the glass, I enjoy the feeling of warmth on my face. I wonder, briefly, if anyone will board the next time the train stops. We shudder to a halt, doors open, and I'm suddenly surrounded by walking and talking, sitting and rustling. The peace is shattered. 
A tall man with a limp plops himself down next to me and says hi. He has friendly blue eyes and a soft voice. Within seconds the only conversation we will probably ever have begins. 
As we accelerate he tells me about his recent knee operation. I am sympathetic to his pain. We talk about family, horse riding, holidays and work. He is frustrated at being unable to play football at the moment and regrets not having travelled more when he was younger. A sadness flashes across his face as he tells me that life is short. I nod, suddenly thinking about my bucket list. With a change of subject, he is once again smiling. His girlfriend is coming over tonight to cook him dinner. I laugh at the loveliness of it. He chuckles. 
And as the train begins to slow, I see the station up ahead. I slide my orange Moleskine and silver pen back into my bag and zip it up.
"This is me, I'm afraid", I say as I ready myself to leave. He looks up at me and our hands clasp in a shake.
"Have a nice life", he cheerfully says as I get up out of my seat. I smile and wish him health and happiness. In less than a minute I am standing on a platform, alone once again, bag in hand. 
And as the train pulls away, I make my way up towards the exit and out into the sun.
I can't help but think about these funny little moments we have. Life is all about connections - connections we have with friends and family, strangers and lovers. We share our lives and bear witness to each other's journey. But wherever we go, and whomever we meet on the way, the most important relationship we will ever have is the one we have with ourself. 

Freckle

There is a freckle. It lives on the inside of my middle finger, right hand. It has been there for as long as I can remember and I don't even know the first time I became aware of it.
Despite being there for all to see, I'm pretty sure there's no one on this planet who knew about its existence. Even those who have been intimately close with me probably won't have noticed it at all.
But it's there.
It has been with me every step of the way. It was there the morning I jumped off the train and landed in London. There the first time I took off into the sky. There the day I fell in love and there the night my heart was broken. It has seen me across vast oceans and sprawling continents, through burning sun and pouring rain. It has listened to me laugh and cry and sing and scream. Felt grains of warm sand trickle over it and the petals of a red rose rest on it.
With over 7 billion people on this beautiful blue planet, it is easy to feel like just another one in the crowd. We meet so many people at different stages of our life, some become friends, some, lovers, and some just pass on through.
But wherever we go and whoever we meet on our journey, as long as we remember that there is no one else on this planet exactly like us, and love every freckle on our body, we will always be ok.

Santa in the sun

As I slip on my new favourite blue and white Havaianas, I grab my sunglasses and head out the door. It is another glorious day with not a cloud in the sky. An air-conditioned Metro train provides me with a brief, refreshing respite from the burning sun shining just above the surface. Back out onto the bustling street once more, a giant Santa Clause defiantly wears his warm woolly clothes and smiles through the heat. I see trees covered in baubles, penguins carrying presents and elaborate nativity scenes being played out, all in the Brazilian midday sun.
And that's when it hits me: I am 5,899 miles away from gloves and scarves, mince pies and mulled wine, ice-skates and log fires. A momentary pang of missing home wrings in my stomach and leaves behind a feeling that I just can't shake.
And then it suddenly occurs to me that a huge number of people in this wonderfully crazy city might not have ever seen snow before. I smile as I watch a snowball hurtling through my mind and go crashing into a happy snowman.
Shopping done, I trade in a mulled wine for a Caipirinha and sit watching the world go by. Our beautiful blue planet is home to over 7 billion people, all with different life experiences. But despite our differences, we all have the same beating hearts, hopes and fears.
And that's what makes us family.



As 2013 comes slowly to a close, I want to thank you for following my blog every week and being part of the journey. You add colour to my life and inspire me in ways you don’t know. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and hope that 2014 brings you health and happiness!

With love!

Scars

As I started running, I knew I could do it. With each stride getting longer and longer, I picked up momentum until I passed the point of no return.
The fence wasn't even that high, and the section I'd chosen to hurdle over was lower than the rest due to some of the neglected wires coming apart. As my foot touched down for the final time before the leap, something didn't feel quite right. I guess the relentless downpour that morning had changed the ground upon which I ran. With a slip of the foot, my body left the ground and began to sail over the wire fence. Maybe I would clear it after all...
18 stitches and 24yrs later, I still have my memento of that journey.
There is a place on my left bicep that my little niece has affectionately named 'the soft bit'. She loves to touch it and says it feels like a butterfly's wing. Even though I was too young to remember the accident, I still get used as a cautionary tale for the kids to stay away from boiling water.
Throughout our lives, things happen to leave us with scars. Some are very easy to spot, and others, only visible on the inside. Whether they come from a leap of faith or a broken heart, these experiences change us forever, never to be the same again. But that's ok. Our scars are just a reminder of how strong we really are.

The flower and the weed

Today, for the first in a long time, blazing sun greets me as I step out of the house. A slight breeze on my arms and a warmth on my skin tells me that our English summer is here. It seemed like the hovering grey clouds above would be a permanent fixture...but they are gone, for now. 
And as I walk past the grassy patch to my left, I see the beautiful little things that I used to love. Suddenly thrown back through time, I land in a field of daisies. There was something about the way they looked that always made me smile; like mini flowers growing wild, free.
Endless summers of playing out until the sun went down, of daisy chains, kiss chase, and he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not, float through my mind. I suddenly can't remember the last time I sat and played with the daisies...5, 10, 20 years ago?
There was something I heard once, I can't remember where or when: 'Weeds are just flowers in the wrong place.'
And as I look up into bright blue sky, I begin to wonder if the same can't be said of us too. Sometimes in life, we find ourselves in the company of people who can leave us feeling less-than. We can doubt our uniqueness and be labelled a weed. But that's the beautiful thing about us! We are all special in our own way, and like the mini flowers standing wild in the grass, we continue to grow and make the world a brighter place.

Disappearing dusk

It's already begun. No longer evening, not quite night. I'm in the space in between where the sun gives one last push of brilliance before disappearing completely; a final flourish as the curtain comes down.
Colours grow sharper and the shadows on the grass below lie elegant, long. They seem to stretch out to forever.
I glance up just as a plane full of people powers higher and higher into the sky and sweeps away from City Airport, climbing further from the ground with every second. Soon we will all just look like ants.
The light is changing. The window is closing and everything that was bathed in a hyper-real glow is starting to fade.
This is the end. And also the beginning.
I wonder about tomorrow. I wonder about the many things it holds gently in its hands for me and how with every sunset, we imperceptibly change.
The air is getting cooler now and I briefly consider going inside to grab my blue jumper when something stops me. The edge of Canary Wharf is suddenly illuminated with my personal sunset. It happens most evenings and only ever lasts for a few minutes, but every single time, I'm awe-struck. Feeling my lungs fill with air, a wave of hope washes over me as I realise how much potential there is within each and every one of us.
The shadows on the grass below have now disappeared into the dusk and in a moment I will pick up my cup and head inside. The door will close and the blind will be pulled across. The lamp will go on and tea will be poured. But right now I am blinded by the reflection of the sun.
And it is beautiful.

Three and a half pike

Switching on the TV, I crash onto the sofa just as the screen comes to life and illuminates the room. It has already begun. I watch as he walks up to the edge of the platform and stands looking out over the cool, rippling water below. An eerie silence washes over the spectators as we wait. And wait... 
Prepare..take a breath..launch..pike..somersault..once, twice, three and a half times into a straight extension..arms lock..rip through the water..vanish.

And so the spectacle continues as I look on amazed; awe-struck and inspired. One by one their bodies tease gravity with every twist and turn and I can't help but wonder how it is possible to fly through the air at 35mph with such grace and artistry.

As with anything in life, achieving greatness takes time and energy. An athlete's journey towards the perfect 10 will always include many hours of practice, belief, blood, sweat and tears. Still they continue on regardless. There will be moments on our journey where we naturally face obstacles and self-doubt. Sometimes, we breeze through this and come out the other end unscathed. Other times, we find ourselves belly-flopping in a spectacular fashion; temporarily winded. But that's ok. It's all good practice. Pulling ourselves up out of the pool, we dry ourselves off and start climbing the steps once again in the hope that the lesson learnt will take us just that little bit closer to reaching our great potential.

At the end of the day

The last remaining minutes of the day's light holds on loosely as the planet spins 67,000mph away from the sun's bright rays, plunging us into darkness once again. As I reach over and turn off the bedside lamp in the quiet hotel room, I notice that now, with the absence of light inside, evening looks instantly brighter. The air suddenly drops a few degrees and a chill sweeps through the gap in the slightly open window and onto my face. I momentarily close my eyes.
As I look out over the tree tops and down towards the lake, the air conditioning unit whirs into action and fills the room with a hypnotic hum. Light from the NEC shimmers peacefully on the water and I am suddenly aware of all the different colours around me. The Canada geese that blocked the path this morning, are settling down for the night.
A wave of melancholy washes over me as I remember the last time I was in this city. Three years on, I realise how much I have changed.
There are times in life when we are met with challenges so personally encompassing, we think that we will never be the same again...and we never are. Everything that happens to us and every person we meet takes us into a new chapter of our life. Lesson learnt, we move forward...Sometimes easily, sometimes not so much. But we are all survivors and have an inner strength that we aren't aware of until we have no choice but to summon it forth.
I know that I really should get ready for bed in a minute as I have an early start... But for now I stand transfixed at the window, looking out to witness the end of another day.

Giraffe in a box

It was absolutely the last thing I expected to see! Turning the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks as a smile swept instantly across my face. I couldn't believe my eyes. He wasn't there yesterday. And now, here I stood, watching as he poked his head out of the bright red phone box, reaching up to munch on delicious green leaves which hung temptingly overhead; the perfect antidote to a cloudy evening in the city. The clash of imagery sent my mind off on a sideways journey. As I looked up, I began to think about belonging and of all the times in my life when I felt that I didn't quite fit in. I'm sure that most of us have been in that place more than once; the feeling that niggles deep within and a knowing that you are not where you really want to be. Whether physically, spiritually or mentally, something doesn't quite click; that there must be more to life...
Most of us are lucky enough to live in a corner of the world where we are free to be ourselves and express our light in whichever way we choose. And yet, we still sometimes find ourselves living lives that don't fully inspire or fulfil us.
But that's the thing about life... We can reinvent ourselves at any given moment and the opportunity to change for the better is always present, however, most of the time we have to be willing to step bravely out of our comfort zone and follow our hearts.
Once we do, we may just find that piece of contentment right around the corner.

Sticks and stones

I didn't really see it coming at first. It arrived like a bolt out of the blue. The thing that first registered was the dull thud as the fist slammed into my face. Shockwaves suddenly rushed around my body like a fiery electrical storm. Adrenaline began to pump as I held back the tears. They would not get to see them today, they didn't deserve them. And so I fought them back harder than I had ever done before. Names continued to fly at me and echoed around my mind. Upon seeing our teacher striding across the school playground, the bullies fled and I suddenly found myself standing alone once again; saved by the dinner bell.
Growing up, we are all told about sticks and stones, but the part about names never hurting us has never quite rung true. I, like most people on this planet, know that they can absolutely hurt...deeply.
Sometimes people can say wounding things. Sometimes they sting momentarily and sometimes, the effects can last a lifetime.
But underneath everything, when someone throws something hurtful our way, it is never really about us to begin with. They always reveal much more about the other person and once we realise this, it makes it easier for us to forgive and move on.
So when you think you're not special enough or good looking enough or clever enough or thin enough, I am here to tell you that you are! You are perfectly amazing just the way you are and there is not a single person on this entire planet that is identical to you. No one!

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.

Broken wings

I always made sure that I got to my spot just in time to watch the sun disappear over the horizon and into the sea. Sitting on cool pebbles, I waited for the spectacle to begin with just the sound of lapping waves and squawking gulls to keep me company.
I knew when it was about to start by the eerie silence that washed over the abandoned pier. I would wait and wait and wait...
Then all at once, they appeared; hundreds of starlings would burst out into the crimson sky and begin to swarm around like bees, weaving in and out of each other as if choreographed by Matthew Bourne himself. Transfixed by their aerial acrobatics, every twist and turn took my breath away. It was a beautiful show, worthy of a standing ovation.
Our own style of flight changes from day to day; Sometimes we glide effortlessly like an eagle, wings spread, riding high on warm currents and a gentle breeze. Other days, like a swallow, we flap manically just to stay aloft through life's challenges and our wings are left a little battered and bruised. These are the moments in which we think we will never fly again...
But we always do. We were designed that way and can fly with broken wings.

There's something about Helen

As she held out her hand, I noticed her perfectly polished nails which shone a deep red in the dimly lit cabaret bar. Her long brown hair glistened as she popped up onto a stool next to me and settled in at the bar. Drink in hand we wished our mutual friend luck as he turned and walked backstage to get ready for the show. There was a shy confidence about her and I liked the way that her eyes would glance momentarily at the floor before answering a question.
We talked about life, love and everything in between. I laughed a lot. She was charming and intelligent.
Stepping onto the last tube train of the evening I followed her to take a seat and watched as the doors closed.
As we set off I began to notice that other people were interested in Helen. Her lightness filled the carriage and the passengers couldn't help but look in her direction. There was a buzz around the carriage that I had never witnessed before.
We chatted until the train slowed to signal my stop. Slinging my bag over my body I said goodbye and how much I had enjoyed her company. I kissed her cheek, gave her a hug and stepped out onto the warm, empty platform.
Watching the bright lights of the train slowly accelerate and vanish into the dark, I suddenly felt sad.
Once out into the cool night air, I wondered at what point she had realised that she was living in the wrong body.
Her personal courage and conviction was stunning and despite now being a woman, her balls were bigger than any I had ever seen.
Fear often stops us from declaring to the world who we truly are and the more honest we are with ourselves and others, the more inspiring and beautiful we become.



Thank you to this courageous woman for living your truth and also to my brave friend Mark who is in the massive process of coming out. May you find your own amazing power.

Tea for two

"What would you like to drink?"
"Hmmmm, do you have any herbal tea?"
My host's knowing laughter echoed loudly in my ears as the cupboard door swung open with a flourish. I half expected to discover a bikini-clad assistant inside, waiting to vanish in a puff of theatrical smoke. Instead, the most colourful array of teas and coffees never before seen outside a supermarket lay before me.
"I don't even like half of these, but I love to be able to offer my guests anything they like. I want them to be happy", he said pulling a face. I laughed.
Slowly sipping on my newly opened Lemon and Ginger tea, I couldn't help but think about what this meant. Instantly I felt special.
It was such a small thing really but the warmth and thoughtfulness of it made me smile.
I wondered about how many other people had sat at this kitchen table and sipped on a cup of carefully chosen Chamomile, or Darjeeling, or Rosehip & Elderflower...
We all love it when someone does something to make us feel special and unique. That warm glow inside as we are filled with a sense of happiness.
Every day there are opportunities all around in which we can make someone feel just that little bit better - whether it be with a genuine smile, a touch or just holding a door open.
Taking the time to acknowledge a friend or colleague's nice new haircut can make their day and send a ripple out into the world.
Some people say that it is the small things that matter the most, and as I finish the last drop of my tea, I know this to be true.

Sleeping satellite

Something is coming.

Hurtling across the universe at speeds of 5 miles per second to make its way home after 20 years, it is unstoppable. In a few hours the satellite will slam into the dense atmosphere and spectacularly break into a hundred fiery pieces.

I look up into the night sky and bathe gently in the silver rays. A trillion stars play silently above.

As I tilt my head upwards, an image flutters into my mind (stranger things have happened to me on a new moon but we won’t go there). I wonder about what the Earth would look like from all that way and how tiny we would appear. I picture the footprints left in the moon’s dusty terrain up there on that day in 1969 which remain to this day, untouched. A constant reminder of how a small step for man can be a giant leap for mankind.

Throughout history, people have been making their own indelible marks on the world a little closer to home every single day. Some footprints are celebrated with a fanfare of trombones, bass drums and confetti cannons exploding over a mass of onlookers, whilst others are less conspicuous, but none the less, change the course of history forever.

We are the stars on Earth and have the opportunity to shine just as brightly!

Perfect flaws

I never really paid much attention to geology at school. The hypnotic sound of my teacher talking provided the perfect soundtrack to which my attention slowly drifted up, up and out through the small open window above and into the blue sky.

If I had listened to her, I wouldn't have had to wait for this one fact which now pops up and out through my radio many years later. The presenter is cheerfully discussing gem stones and how they actually get their colour from the impurities within them. The bold blue of a sapphire comes from titanium and iron present. The fiery red ruby is born from the trace amounts of chromium within.

Having a fetish for factual titbits such as this got me thinking… If impurities and flaws all culminate to create something spectacularly beautiful in these stones, does the same apply to us? Could it be that our impurities and mistakes are the things which actually make us even more beautiful.

No-one is perfect and that’s what makes us perfect.

Sometimes it is those experiences which fashion us into more interesting people and without them, we would all be the same with no story to tell.

Embrace everything, every single part of you - the good, the bad and the beautiful. 

The second guess

Pick a number, any number and I will tell you what you are thinking…

It can come from a missing text or a silent stare, a status update or a shift in body language.  A million questions are sent flying through our synapses faster than the speed of light all to fill in the missing gaps. What does this mean? What are they thinking? Is it anything or everything to do with me? At the slightest whiff of doubt or missing information, we jump into action and set our minds to work. Racing through a million and one possibilities, we finally come to rest at the one which seems the most logical, unaware that we could be facing in totally the wrong direction.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who has ever put 2 and 2 together and come up with E=MC2 to the power of wrong. Who knew that being a mind-reader would be so exhausting?!

We are all so complex and perfectly unique that it is near impossible to see the world through anyone else’s eyes but our own.

… You were thinking of a purple penguin. See, told you I was a mind reader! 

Second hand

FOR SALE: A complete set of very well worn, second hand beliefs.

These have proven to be very useful to their previous owners and come in one size only.

You may find them a little restricting at times and they will almost certainly feel uncomfortable, causing imbalance and minor irritation. As the new owner you are obliged to carry them around 24/7 regardless of how heavy they are.

So what are you waiting for? Hurry as stocks won’t last!

Everybody has an opinion about how the world works - “Nothing ever goes right”, “People can’t be trusted”, Life is difficult”.... Sometimes we adopt these mantras as our own because we have heard them so many times in the past, surely they must be correct. And other times we don’t even realise that they are subconsciously shaping the world around us in ways that may not necessarily be to our advantage.

These beliefs come from other people’s experience of life and have nothing whatsoever to do with our own journey. The trick is to discover which ones limit our potential, keeping us Earthbound and which ones inspire and lift, bringing us a step closer to flying.  

Once we are open to the idea of an internal spring clean we can walk weightlessly down the high street until we eventually find the Prada Couture of beliefs about the world, sparkling in the window, just waiting to be worn beautifully for the first time.

Go on, treat yourself...You are worth it!