Gone fishing

I didn't know if it was the beer, the blazing sun, or a combination of the two, but I suddenly felt sleepy out on the river bank. It was nice to be away from the city for a few days, and for the first time in ages, I felt my mind soften around the edges.
As I finished the last of my drink, my friend turned to ask if I fancied doing a spot of fishing...A smile crept across my face as I found myself out on the deck of their narrow boat. After a quick lesson in the basics, my friend hopped back onto solid ground...and there I stood, alone in my thoughts, looking out across the river. The peacefulness of that moment was beautiful!
It didn't last long!
I watched the lure fly gracefully out across the water to land with a gentle splash once again...Then I felt my line pull...hard. The rod began to bend, and for a moment, I wondered if I had managed to get it caught again on some weed at the bottom. Within a few seconds, to my absolute horror, I pulled the line out of the water and found myself staring at a thrashing 25lb pike!
With that, I screamed, my friends came running, and passers-by stopped to see what was causing such a commotion. And so the battle to release the giant began...
The mere sight of its razor-sharp teeth coming towards me was enough to have me climbing up the railing away from it.
After what seemed like an age of twisting and struggling, I watched my friend bend down to place him back into the water from whence he came. He was finally home. Safe. Free.
Then as I looked down through the ripples, laughing with relief, I realised something: In life, there will always be challenges. Things happen unexpectedly to take us on a different journey. Sometimes we find ourselves in an unimagined future where we don't always get what we want...but occasionally, get just what we need.
And that night, as I looked out of the car window into the starry sky, I couldn't help but smile. This would forever be the day that I wrestled with a river monster, and won!

Rainy Tuesday

Tuesday evening rain splashes down onto cold pavement. It has been like this all day and looks set to carry on into the night. 
As the door to my office clicks shut behind me, I breathe deeply and watch my umbrella pop open...and so begins the commute home towards drawn blinds, soft lighting and a comfy sofa. 
I love these moments! Music pulsing through headphones down into my ears, I join the strangers on the street, and walk. I can't remember the last time I didn't feel at home here. Nights of feeling alone and scared in a big city seem like a lifetime ago. 
As I approach the corner to cross, I notice a massive, muddy puddle spilling out from the kerb into the road. I know this corner, and I see what's coming...As I take a step back away from the edge, people around me suddenly understand my movement and follow me in quick succession. We share a knowing smile with each other just as the bus trundles past and splashes the puddle up and out. 
Moments of random connection remind me that we are all related. 
And so I continue on towards the tube. I know that it will be packed down there this evening. A wave of peace washes over me in anticipation of the warm cocoon that awaits. I can get lost in the crowd once again and feel the mass of beating hearts. 
We see so many people every day on our journey, some familiar, some not. Sometimes paths cross to turn into something more meaningful, and sometimes, one glance is all we ever have. 
And as I begin my descent to the ticket hall, I can't help but wonder where all these strangers are off to tonight - strangers with their dripping umbrellas and soaked newspapers.

The final burst

The final rays of golden sun shine directly onto my face; it is too bright to see anything in front of me. And so, blinded by the light, I close my eyes and feel the warmth gently embrace my entire body. 
I love evening sunsets; everything slowly winding down for another day. Lost in thought, I suddenly feel a slight drop in temperature as the sun is momentarily hidden behind a passing cloud, giving me space to open my eyes once again. It takes a second for them to adjust. Light reflects off the river and bounces out across the city. Sitting on my concrete ledge, I watch as one by one, people pass me and lean against the barrier above the sun-sparkled water. Everything seems to slow right down as we all join together to watch the last of the day's sun give one brilliant final burst across the city. Towers glint in the distance and water is sprayed up by a passing catamaran. And on we gaze, all connected in the moment. Still. Grateful. At peace.
My attention is drawn down towards a tiny boy who runs past me into his daddy's arms. As they both chuckle to each other, I get a fleeting glimpse of my own son. If I had one, we would sit out here together and watch the sun go down over the horizon with Cutty Sark resting majestically behind us. 
It will soon be time for me to get up and meet my friends in the restaurant...
But for now, I'm smiling at this gift of spending a little time on my own. Time to just be. To breathe. To love. To smile. And sweep back my wind-ruffled hair.

My little book of moments

When I started my blog over two and a half years ago, I had no idea that the journey would change my life, forever. 
I vividly remember the first time I hit the 'Publish' button. Suddenly the words were no longer just inside my heart...they flew out into the world for all to see. Since then, I have received many emails from a variety of followers: some funny, some heartbreaking, all beautifully honest. I continue to be touched by every single one. 
After a while, I started reading suggestions that I should write a book based on the blog. At first, I was incredibly touched...Then after a few more followers mentioned the same thing, I began to wonder...
And so 'The Little Book Of Moments' was born. 
It is a lovingly chosen collection of a few of my favourite pieces, with a few new ones written especially for the book. Every piece has a beautiful hand-drawn illustration to accompany it.

Keeping the feel of this blog close to its heart, my book takes a sideways look at love, life, and everything in between. The bite-sized moments will take you through the everyday/ordinary and open you up to the life lessons hidden within every situation.
I thank you all, from the bottom of my heart for following my blog every single week and for being the most important part of the journey. 
Love and light always!


'The Little Book Of Moments' is out now on Amazon.co.uk, Amazon.com, and Amazon.eu

Morning chatter

Sunday morning, and a chorus of Wood Pigeons call in the distance. It is the first thing I hear as I wake. Still dozy from sleep, I listen as one repeats the same three notes over, and over again. Then another joins in, this time with five. It is all I hear until they suddenly stop. Stillness. 
Then in the silence, I yawn. My tummy rumbles. And the pigeons return. Then a Crow. Then a Sparrow. Then something else I can't identify: a strange, deep squawk. It was definitely a bird of sorts, but not one that I have heard before. Or maybe it was a child. 
As I listen on to the orchestra of sounds, my mind suddenly skips back to another time: London Zoo, a light drizzle falling onto my face as I stood listening to the Peacocks. Trying hard to mimic their call, I began repeating back exactly what I heard, subtly adjusting the quality of my sound each time until eventually we merged and became one. I smile at the memory of seeing the rest of my drama school friends all doing the same thing. The next day we would find ourselves back together in class, all laughing at the strange looks we received from the rest of the visitors around us, before making the room come alive once again with lions, and tigers, and Peacocks, oh my! 
I chuckle at the seeming randomness of life...
And as the birds continue to chatter outside my window, in between the squawking and singing, I begin to drift off once again into a deep morning sleep.

Homeward bound

As the train speeds through the tunnel, music floats into my ears. Scenes from earlier splash into my mind and begin to overlap: My friend's sweet little boy roaring like a monster, her lovely twin daughters randomly discussing Hula Hoops, us reminiscing about days gone by, and the rain that began to fall lightly over our picnic, making us pack up and call it a day...

Then I suddenly remember the old man playing a piano in the main concourse of St Pancras station just moments before we said goodbye. We stood there transfixed, watching him lost in his music, us getting lost in him.

My reverie speeds up time, and before I know it, I am standing on the wet evening platform once again, close to home. I watch the train disappear into the distance and suddenly realise that there is no one else around. I feel the light drizzle on my face and stand looking up into a darkening sky. Right at this moment, my friend and her family are speeding out of the city, whilst the piano man is settled in his seat, dozing peacefully as his train sways onwards.

And as I walk down the length of the platform towards the stairs, a thought occurs to me: even if I had wanted to, with all the will in the world, I couldn't have orchestrated this exact evening: The piano man, the picnic in the rain, the moments we laughed; all set against a dark blue, late August sky.

And all it takes is a second...a second to stop, a moment to realise, that we have so much more to be grateful for than we will ever know.

Just visiting

I used to think I had just one pace in this city when I first arrived...Two decades later, I've discovered another. There are times in our life when all we can do is let go and allow the current to take us where it will. With nowhere else to get to for at least another hour, I slow my stride and begin to melt into the swarm of strangers. In between shoulder bags and cameras and shorts and smiles, I snatch glimpses of a city I love, foreign to my crowd, familiar to me. Big Ben glints in the early evening sunset behind red buses, black cabs, and bicycles.
I stop sporadically as tourists in front of me pose wearily against a sunset skyline; a long day of walking and exploring finally taking its toll. I watch as they soak everything in. It will soon be time for them to head back to their hotel to shower and change before heading out again for dinner.
Once across the river, I find myself retreating to the park opposite Westminster. This is my favourite part of killing time...I love people watching. The blonde-haired girl cartwheels freely across the grass and heads towards the Japanese couple freezing for a picture with their fingers held playfully in a peace sign - I love this pose. Maybe deep down, that's all the majority of us want for the planet anyway. There are kids playing around the bronze statue now, and I chuckle to myself as they hold onto the giant finger to dance with it. Their laughter rings out across the grass, becoming part of the city soundtrack.
A Union Jack blows gently in the breeze high upon a rooftop.
Suddenly a bee buzzes sleepily past and I follow its journey around behind me. I realise that I've been sitting right in front of a wall of lavender this whole time. And so I reach behind to squeeze a piece of it in between my fingers. The scent fills my nostrils and floods me with happiness...
Tonight, I am right where I'm meant to be.

Connected

I love this time of day. The bustling city is changing gears to another pace. Final splashes of golden sun illuminate the grass below and cast shadows across the lawn as I sit looking out. Within a few short minutes, day will become night once more. I watch the last rays of evening light gently cover the city in its golden blanket, and even though there is still a pale blue sky, the street lamps have already come on to see us through the small hours.
Today I saw a picture of the earth taken from beneath Saturn’s rings. And today I saw a picture of a train wreck...I will go to sleep this night, a different person.
As I look down towards my hands, I suddenly notice the orange stains from the dead lilies that I placed into the bin earlier. An image of the child presenting the bouquet to me last week flashes through my mind, making me smile; gestures of kindness and gratitude that will never be forgotten.
I read somewhere that London was hotter than Bali! These warm summer days quickly give way to cool nights, and as a chill blows across my skin, I realise that the shadows are no more; we have spun away from the sun.
I am contemplating going inside for a hot Green tea when a thought occurs to me: In this moment, everything is happening; someone is laughing, and someone is crying; someone is arriving, and someone is dying. With 7.1 billion of us all sharing this planet, we are connected in ways we don't even know; variations of a theme with beating hearts and hopes and fears. We are family.
And as I make my way inside to put the kettle on, I know I'm not the only one.

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.

Itchy feet

Early morning sun bathes my entire body in its warm light...there's not a cloud in the sky. As I look up, my mind suddenly jumps into the cool pool in Switzerland that I used to lie by. The summers were long, and hot, and filled with love. The flash is instant, fleeting.
I watch as steam curls upwards out of my mug and disappears into the sky. The smell of cut grass blowing in the breeze instantly makes me close my eyes and breathe deeply. I love this smell!
My attention is drawn upwards by the sound of a helicopter flying overhead. Instantly I'm speeding through the air at 150mph, looking out once more across the Grand Canyon.
Alone in my thoughts, my mind continues to skip back and forth over all the places I've ever lived and been. Then a thought occurs to me. I suddenly wonder if my mum had once had dreams of standing on cool Italian marble, or warm Thai sand, on a bustling New York sidewalk or manicured grass in a Berlin Tiergarten. With this thought, a wave of urgency splashes over me as I wonder if there is enough time in the world to do everything I want to do. A Canada goose flies majestically along the canal and pulls me suddenly out of my reverie.
My feet are itching, ready for the next excellent adventure.
Sometimes in life, there are things that compel us forward, and things that hold us back. Whether it is love or fear that eventually drives us to another place, sometimes we just need to step out of our comfort zone to really discover where our happiness lies.

Step by step

Trainers laced, muscles stretched, I step out into the morning and hit the play button. The beat kicks in and I am off. Snaking my way down towards the canal, a light morning drizzle covers my face. Every stride forward lifts me further out of my sleepiness. I eventually settle into a comfortable pace as the path in front rolls towards my moving feet. I have really been enjoying these early morning runs of late, and despite this only being the third time in my new resolution, I am finding every step just that little bit easier, that little bit faster. A wave of contentment splashes over me as I breathe deeply. Endorphins rush in with a pumping new tune and I decide to speed up my run for a quick burst.
I want to go faster and further.
And just as the song hits the chorus, I accelerate. For a split second it feels as if I am lifting off the ground...and that's when it happens: the sudden searing pain in my left calf.
In less than three seconds, I find myself leaning against a tree with frustration and disappointment crashing heavily into me. How could this have happened? It was game over!
Taking a deep breath, I begin the long journey home, drizzle continuing to fall over my limping body.
And then I realise something...
Sometimes in life, change can take a while. It doesn't always play out like a cleverly cut montage in a movie, and as frustrating as it is, we can't rush the process. The journey is beautiful, and with just one perfectly small step, we take that giant leap right into our future.

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.

5-a-day

Feeling the first few drops of cool summer rain splash against my skin, I step casually into the quiet cocoon of the supermarket and snatch a basket from the pile as I walk past. Hit by an air-conditioned breeze, I instantly feel refreshed and ready to tackle the maze. And so I move forward into the aisle, suddenly engulfed by towering shelves and eye-catching labels. Plucking items from their metal branches, I place them one by one into my basket and continue onwards. Finally reaching the colourful fruit and veg, I stop to run through the list in my head and make my way over to the bright red peppers. My favourite song of the moment begins to play joyfully through blue headphones into my ears and I begin to think about what it means to get our 5-a-day. I have a new routine. My gratitude 5-a-day. Every night as I gently drift off to sleep, I run through the day and pluck out 5 things that I am grateful for: lessons learnt, conversations with friends, being lucky enough to see the sunset.... It's amazing how once we take a moment to really look at our life, we see how much we really have. Even on our darkest days, there is always something lying just under the surface to be thankful for.
And as I make my way through the checkout and back out towards the exit, I see that the rain is coming down heavily now...and I smile. Soon I will be home, safe and sound, grateful for the food in my bags and the music in my ears.

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.