In my mind I carry with me the voices of all the women I have known, loved and listened to. It’s like having a little box of friends in my head that I can tap into anytime life gets a little wobbly or I just need a guiding hand. I’ve carefully curated this little box and only allow the wisest of souls to enter my cushioned inner sanctuary.
Lean in as I whisper my greatest secret – my mind friends give me the confidence, the love and the grit to face life head on, to keep dreaming big and to ensure that my inner world is filled with wise graceful beauty and compassion.
I so recommend living this way.
My Mother, my Grand Mother (who were right about everything all along – listen up youngsters you’ll find this out in time) and my therapist are there and so too are a very carefully handpicked group of girlfriends who I’ve had the enormous pleasure of being close to over the years.
“I like to have a martini, Two at the very most. After three I’m under the table, after four I’m under my host.”
Dorothy Parker
But central to the cast are the group of female writers who have sustained me over the most turbulent of years. Among them Marilynne Robinson, Elizabeth Strout, Nora Ephron (so hilarious and life affirming about middle age) and Dorothy Parker (famous for my favourite quote of all time “I like to have a martini, Two at the very most. After three I’m under the table, after four I’m under my host”. )
And those magical country singers who are really the best of all poets Patty Griffin (“I went up to the mountain because you asked me to” – one of my favourite all time lines about selfless love”), Emmylou Harris (Red Dirt Girl makes me weep time and again “could have been the whisky, could have been the pills, could have been the dreams she was trying to kill” 😭 and Mary Chapin Carpenter’s Stones in The Road – the experience of the outsider a constant companion in my 30s.
As the magnificent Charlie Mackesy (The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse) points out why ever do people keep comparing their inner self to everybody else’s outer self – we really have no idea what is going on behind the eyes. And many people are really good actors.
My advice, for what it’s worth, is ditch the outer stuff fast and keep going in – deeper and deeper. It’s where all the richness of life abides – and it’s possible in all of us.
So this week one of my best of all voices left this mortal world and left, I’m quite sure of this, millions of us fans completely bereft. I cannot summon the words to justify how the great, great, great writer Joan Didion (5/12/1934 – 23/12/2021) held me up at my darkest times. Her book The Year of Magical Thinking – a classic book about how to mourn – lies tearstained by my bed. And always will. It really is the only book you need to read when you’ve lost somebody you’ve loved -her line about not wanting to throw away her husband’s shoes after he died of a heart attack because “he may need them” speaks so entirely to the experience of the widowed.
Thank the Lord I have a catalogue of her words on my shelf and in my mind. Death has no power against the words and ideas that are given to us.
And at Christmas, where loss seems to weigh heavily on the expectations of merriment, I recall her words time and again “We have kind of evolved into a society where grieving is totally hidden. it doesn’t take place in our family. It takes place not at all”.
I so agree with this and wonder where we all really put our sadness as we sit around tables – or not. How strange a day that tells us that there is only room for happy faces, presents, food and drink – of giving, giving, giving to so many who have already got so much. That we close our doors, and sometimes our hearts, to others who are not as fortunate as us. To others who may dampen the mood with their tears of the sadness that is so much part of the tapestry of life.
The result, me thinks, is a whole bunch of lonely disconnected people who feel that they aren’t welcome because they are finding life really hard. So when any of us chance upon difficult times, as we will, we are banished to the lonely step and encouraged to “turn that frown upside down”. Hence the Samaritans line rings off the hook and psychologists rooms are full and getting fuller.
And I think there is a huge warning here for all of our mental health. The stoics knew this better than anybody – but then religion, philosophy, psychology and the arts know this too. We cannot really truly be free, joyful and happy without embracing the darker sides of life. Repress the sadness and you repress the joy – all mental health practitioners know this. Instagram life hacks may be quick and free but they are like sticking plasters – that’s why they don’t work and they don’t last.
This Christmas I took time out to be really sad and it released something positive in me. I lit candles for my dead and sat in a church (at the back as not really ready for church going yet). And at least I felt some kind of connection. I certainly felt lighter and I looked around at the faces of people who were stepping out and into their communities and thought – good on you all.
I think this stuff is so important especially in a world where so many are polarising around a specific belief. Cutting ties with people who don’t agree with them and narrowing down the number of people they associate with. We should all be throwing stones through windows to stop this happening – such disconnection fosters mistrust, hatred and ultimately heavens knows what. Listen to what the social economists are warning about this. The Financial Times weekly podcast is the one to tune into here …
So here is the hugest hug 🥰 to you if you are hurting in any way. It will pass, even the worst of pains eventually change and fade to some extent, but my advice would be to shout your hurt from the rooftops! and keep shouting until you find somebody worthy enough to listen to you. Talking about our pain helps others and makes others feel less lonely – believe me my inboxes are full up of people telling me how my words have helped them. There is the best of all lightness, humour and connection in pain. And the best we can all do with each other is to walk alongside each other – and of course laugh a lot at the madness of our funny, precious little world.
As a young woman, whose life wasn’t panning out as she expected nor wanted, I legged it to a remote mountain village in the North of Italy. Didn’t speak a word of Italian, didn’t know anyone but I knew I needed a circuit breaker for a life that could so easily have spiralled down the wrong way.
My courage paid off, as it often does I’ve found. I had the most magical, intense and healing times of my life. I made lifelong friends, learnt to ski/speak Italian and realised early that at each turn in life one can go many different ways.
Now I don’t know if I have an especially strange personality, or what it is, but every now and then I just need to throw everything up in the air and see where it lands. Christmas and New Year always seem like a great time to do this. More on this in a moment.
I chanced on complete alignment of body, mind and soul
First back to my extraordinary year. Something very particular happened in that year that I have never forgotten. It was late in the day and I was skiing, no gliding, through a beautiful blue run through a forest. Fresh snow and the sun still just peeking over the horizon. Distant cow bells, so evocative of this part of the world, conspired to create an audible backdrop to a scene which I can only imagine is what heaven, if it existed, would look like.
It felt like I’d come home and that every part of my body, soul and mind at moved into harmony. It was better than any drug I’d ever experienced that was for sure. As the song goes it really was “a perfect day”.
And now I’m studying psychotherapy, that memory keeps coming back to and I want to understand it better/repeat it maybe. If you could bottle that feeling – well wouldn’t that be great.. How can one find complete happy peacefulness in the most simple of situations?
If I were a religious person I might have assumed that I’d gone through some spiritual awakening – I certainly felt closer to my God than I ever had before or since. But through my study of psychology, buddhism and general philosophy I think what had really happened was that I chanced on a complete alignment of body, mind and soul. Some might call it a Gestalt moment, flow, enlightenment or something that captures that moment of wholeness. Wholeness being an incredibly important concept in psychology. I want to write much more about this as I’d completely overlooked the damage splitting off parts of the psyche to fit into the world really can be.
I guess what’s most interesting about this is how I got there and why. And I’m not entirely sure to be honest. But there are some clues in my behaviour up until that point. Firstly I decided not to be unhappy/small/locked in any more and took action to leave a situation. I was spending most of the time outdoors in the most stunning scenery on earth (lots of research saying looking into the distance especially at beauty is good for mental health) and I was living life on my terms. On that day I’d been skiing with some locals, who were seriously good skiers, so I’d been pushed out of my comfort zone and it felt thrilling, exciting, that I was really alive… All of the above have been linked to encouraging a person to move into more moments like this.
I don’t know about you but I approach the festive season with a mixture of heady childlike excitement and deep deep sadness that so many people I have loved aren’t here anymore. But it is only a day and maybe if we approach it with the right mindset it could still be a magical day for us whatever our circusmstances.
Here are some thoughts. I hope they help you if you are in a difficult place or you’ve experienced any kind of loss
Be kind to yourself first and foremost. Have realistic expectations. If you are mourning it is going to be very tough. If you’ve lost a child, like me, it will always be tough. Forever. That’s just how it is There is something incredibly thrilling about accepting/embracing reality. Something cathartic about just sitting in sadness. There really can be peace and happiness in the sadness.
I don’t think anybody should be alone at Christmas unless they truly, truly want to be. Please reach out – people might say they don’t want to join you as nobody wants to feel that they are alone/lonely. But keep asking anyway.
Have realistic expectations of relatives. So many people find Christmas sad and difficult – sometimes we all behave badly as we are hurting so much underneath. A little patience/a little kindness goes a long long way.
Think back to your childhood and what are the kind of things you loved doing then. I loved anything crafty and this Christmas I’m picking up what my Grandmother used to do crocheting. Apparently it’s become very trendy:)
And as somebody once said how can anyone be sad and lonely with a book in their hand. My recommendations to keep you glued for the whole day Amy and Isabelle by Elizabeth Strout or Sorrows and Bliss by Meg Mason.
And maybe if you are a woman, of any age, and want to work at making life more vivid, richer, have more meaning then watch this space. My colleague Erika Uffindell and I are working on a series of workshops and retreats this year to guide, inspire and encourage people to rewrite the narrative of our lives. With all the upheaval around we think this is really important work.
In the meantime have a lovely holiday wherever and whoever you are
Maya Angelou’s words always so beautiful, often over-used. But this really jumped out at me today.
Oh dear reader it’s been a while. Looking back I’m not sure when it all started to go wrong – but my life went very wrong this year. So please forgive my absence. I just couldn’t write – my dreams were constantly haunted by this huge daunting empty white page and I was entirely impotent in being able to do anything about it.
It was horrible. Writing, for me, is like breathing. It’s what I need to do to stay alive, to stay well, to have purpose. Blogging is like the wild west of writing – it is thrilling in its rawness, messiness and sheer creativity. No ashen-faced editors forcing emotions into neatly packaged paragraphs and word counts – just a playground of creativity and self expression. Maybe this makes it harder/less rewarding for the reader … or maybe it allows us all to romp around in somebody else’s mind for a moment of two…. I find that such a rich and exciting concept.
So back to what went wrong? I’m not going to go into great detail as it feels too like wallowing and, perhaps, a tad too personal. So I am thinking about you dear reader – what will you find interesting about what happened to me?
So here goes. It felt like one day the lights just went out. Of course in hindsight they’d been dimming for some while – but one day I just woke up and nothing seemed to matter anymore. All the fizz, fire and enthusiasm I’d always had for life just seemed to evaporate. It was scary I don’t mind admitting – I reached down deep inside for all the resilience, bounce back and emotional strength I’d spent a lifetime cultivating and it felt like somebody had siphoned it all away.
In truth before this year I’d been – secretly perhaps – of the school of thought that if you had enough guts, will and stamina you could get through anything. I’d kind of proved that – or so I thought. I don’t feel like this anymore and I have the most enormous respect for anybody who goes through this darkness and comes out again. You are the strongest of the strong!
I feel so lucky to have had a brush with depression and no more than that – but it was worrying and I’m not intending on visiting it again anytime soon. Here are some of my insights which I hope may help somebody out there:
Curiosity and imagination are human super powers. Letting the mind run wild with creativity – dancing, reading, writing, painting – all well-known “medicines” for low mood. Sadly depression seems to kill imagination stone dead. I believe anything you can do – even if you don’t feel like it – to get your imagination working again will really help.
Having an authentic voice and speaking your truth may be a concept that is sniggered at in the mainstream media. But the experts know that it is key pillar of good mental health. I’m with Megan on this one – good self esteem is built on the ability to have a voice in the world – and heavens knows we need good loud voices in these times more than ever. Every time you go along with something that goes against your values you are seriously damaging your self esteem and therefore your potential happiness levels . Get assertive, never aggressive (it doesn’t work) and practice stating your truth even/especially if it is very different from other people’s. Connecting properly is an anecdote to loneliness and isolation whilst false connections feed these things.
Ditch people pleasing once and for all. Really dear reader promise yourself you will place this most awful of human behaviours on the fire once and for all – it is toxic to you above anybody else and is a quick and certain route to depression. Shout that from the roof tops. Expect/demand mutual respect, love and consideration from everybody in your life. People will treat you exactly the way you let them treat you.
Adopt a kind and compassionate outlook – this will attract like minded people to you and will make life more joyous. This entirely different from people pleasing! There are sadly some horrible people in the world – they probably weren’t born that way they’ve been hurt along the way. Don’t try and change them – you can’t but you can waste an enormous amount of life energy trying too – but you don’t have to hate them. Hate is like a boomerang it flies back at you and poisons your soul. If somebody is making you feel an emotion this is a big clue as to what is going on in their internal world – so kind avoidance is an excellent strategy.
And finally this year I went back to school to fulfil a lifelong ambition to embark on clinical training in psychotherapy. So my plans for the New Year are to share some of my learning with you as I move and grow in the course in an accessible/plain English kind of way.
Please stay tuned and as always love hearing from you and thank you for all your lovely supportive messages.
Oh what to do on a day like today. Such a sense that sadness is thick in the air for all, do you dear reader, really need to know more about mine? I will try and give you some shades of light, with my darkness, and maybe a reason to believe, but if you want to look away please do.
It is always alright to look away. Sometimes we just can’t take any more sadness and that doesn’t mean that we don’t care. I know this is true, but I’ve struggled with this one.
You see my little girl would have been 26 tomorrow. And that really really matters to me. Each milestone a chance to reignite that roaring furnace of love, so tightly woven together with searing pain and grief. It is now eight years since my Chloe Jane died, but if you saw the state of my heart you’d think it was minutes ago.
As CS Lewis observed “It is the case is it not, that grief is, at the very least, one of the prices we pay for love.”
…and was it worth it? She asked me that once. She asked if I’d regretted having her as she could see how her dying was ripping me apart. Oh dear girl if only you knew – my girls were my very reason for breathing. I’d give my life for a minute to hear her voice again, touch her hand. It was worth everything to me and in a heartbeat if it meant I could have picked her as my daughter I’d do it all again.
Pictures are so important don’t you think. Words so often feeble in the face of this kind of grief. I scoured them all. The gorgeous blue eyed long limbed child who shone with life, hope and possibility. Tall and dark like her father, but I could always see my family in the way her eyes tilted slightly downwards and her mouth with that huge grin. I remember her mouth so well.
The picture had to nail something for me. Her burning spirit and a single minded mission to drink up all that life was offering for a beautiful, funny, sassy teenage girl. Boy, just a month ago this girl had had life at her feet, we hadn’t known then of the tsunami of cells that were about to break loose in her body and bring our wonderful life to an end. Forever.
The scene, a familiar one. The ribena bottle with a nod back to “I’m still a little girl at heart”. Drawers stuffed with the obligatory make up (including quite a bit of mine that had mysteriously gone missing) and my bold girl bursting with creativity wanting to dress up to the nines at any opportunity. F**k You Cancer – she had this emblazoned on her very spirit – this girl was not going down without one hell of a fight.
Chemotherapy in the morning, heels, nails and her oh so loyal girl gang seemed to form a steel circle of love and protection to see her on her way. Maybe they knew, as we did and I’m quite certain that she did although she never let on, that every evening was a chance to grab a little of life’s magic in the fading of the light.
I don’t write to make you sad, I write because it is terribly terribly important for us bereaved Mothers to raise the flame of our child’s memory above our heads and keep charging forward so in some way she gets to be taken into the future that she was so cruelly robbed of. Say her name, I shout. Because, you know what, people stop saying it and that hurts us all very much. And I know that people don’t really mean to hurt me – it just does.
Hope is a funny thing. It comes back when you least expect it. A hushed white winter morning, a smile from a random stranger, a promise of something better. I glimpsed it today in a beautiful painting with hints of warmer lighter spring days ahead. We humans are built to survive anything and I am living proof of that. I’ve come to love and embrace my dark days – major health warning here never push these dark days away as that is where trouble lies – I sit with them and let the emotion permeate my whole body. I am very very sad and that feels very appropriate.
When it’s done with me the weight of the sadness lifts a little and like a flickering candle a little joy and hope peek above the gloom. And for that I’m very grateful. In those moments I can tuck my child back into my heart and keep her close and safe. She talks to me sometimes and often I answer always in a whisper.
I so wish I’d written the following, as it so perfectly captures what I’m trying to say here. But how can anyone match the mighty Nick Cave when it comes to things like this.
“Grief is tidal. In time it can recede and leave us with feelings of peace and advancement, only for it to wash back in with all its crushing hopelessness and sorrow. Back and forth it goes, but with each retracting drift or despair, we are left a little stronger, more resilient, more essential and better in our new life.”
There is always light to be had. Always some light.
I dedicate my post to my daughter first and foremost and then to all of you who have suffered bereavement recently. Step gently dear friends it will in time get better.
Wow there’s something happening to me as the year closes. It’s something kinda wonderful and dear readers, if you haven’t already taken it up yourself, I urge you to do it right away. Along with wild water swimming, getting a first tattoo (more about this in a minute) and embracing boyfriend jeans and Dr. Martens (honestly the ultimate cool mid-life uniform) – it is a right of passage at a certain age to STOP being nice.
Kind is cool. Nice is not. My 93 year old Mother in Law warned me way back when “Don’t you dare call me nice. People who are nice don’t have any opinions.” (Believe me the one thing she doesn’t lack is opinions) .
I’ve always thought I’d cultivated a “nice’ exterior and been a bit of a people pleaser. It was only when a friend almost choked in laughter at the revelation that I was dropping the nice act – that I decided to re-evaluate. Slightly red faced, to her credit, she tried to explain “You’re smiley but that’s a very different thing to being too nice,” she explained. Pushed further she admitted “Debs, really we all know you are steely as hell underneath that gentle exterior” .
Whoa – that was definitely not how I’ve felt all my life. Heavens would I have had any friends at all if I’d shown the real self early on. There’s a thought.
But on closer inspection I began to like the fact that my South London background, being the youngest of three in a bonkers Irish family, holding my own in testosterone fuelled newsrooms and more latterly causing a hell of a stir around the injustices of how we treat children with cancer – I settled into the thought Yes I didn’t let nice get in the way too often. And for that I’m really pleased.
But like all things in life moderation is probably the key here and not being nice in the right circumstances takes some navigating. And not being nice DEFINITELY does not mean being a bully, lacking compassion and empathy – it just really means not putting up with bullshit, being bold enough to say no and nothing else (young women this is a skill worth cultivating), turning away from people or things that aren’t good for you.
I guess above all else it means respecting yourself , your values and opinions first and foremost. Never, ever veer from this path you youngsters – you’ll thank me later.
And all of this means that you have more time, space and an open heart to give to those who need your time, attention and love. It also gives you space to work on your internal values and decide how your life is going to be from here on in. In short not being nice gives you everything you need to be a very good person when you decide you want to be.
Watching the sad/happy/tender/nostalgic documentary on the wonderful Billy Connelly last night, Russell Brand (I’m a big fan) said Connelly got away with humour that from somebody else would have been discarded as brutal or revolting – because he had the audience’s heart. Ah the wisdom of crowds eh – he could push right to the edge of acceptable taste, because they all knew that his soul was good. In fact through the tears, I realised he has one of the most magical souls we’ve ever had the good fortune to have been around. Brand, too, if you look past the silly school boy pranks, is a deep thinker who has some amazing things to say about mental health – particularly for young men.
So I think the same is with ditching the nice act – it’s fine if underneath you are actually a good, decent person. It is not if you aren’t.
So back to the tattoo. There’s an Irish saying that each soul is born at a certain age and stays that way throughout their life. Some, hmm I’ve known a few, stay childlike throughout their lives, dodging responsibility and generally leaning on other people (I’ll stop there I think) and others, like me, are old souls from day one. I feel I’ve always been middle aged, always preferred a quiet night in with a book even if I’d spent a fortune on the latest leather trousers, never did drugs and as a journalist was once caught pouring a third glass of wine into a plant pot – as after two glasses I’d literally pass out. Not much rock and roll there I’m afraid.
Yes, I was the laughing stock of the newsroom for a good week after that.
But I never really minded and anyhow I got my revenge. As other more wild souls lament the passing of their youth, I’m feeling very much at home in my rounder middle-aged body and as staying in is the new going out – I feel the world has finally caught up with me. Honestly I can still shake with excitement in a Waterstones surrounded by all the different lives and opinions I can delve into. Love really is a good book.
BUT, this past year my personal stylist at Harvey Nicholls coerced me into stepping into these full on black rebellious Dr martens. OMG the world turned for me – it was love! Staring into the mirror I thought of all the cool rockstars from my youth – Debbie Harry, Chrissie Hynde, Tina Turner … why didn’t I realise back then what a pair of boots could do. I could have been a contender …
Back home he nodded in approval but then muttered “thing is I’ve always thought you were more a Call the Midwife kind of girl”. Bubble burst, but I still love the boots.
And guess what, he doesn’t know this yet BUT I’m following veteran broadcaster David Dimbleby, who got his first tattoo at 75, and getting my first one at 57. How about that.
It will be on my wrist and it will be of a Celtic Knot, these knots are complete loops and have no start or finish and are said to represent eternal bonds.
Underneath I will have written the two most beautiful names in the world – the names of my two daughters Hannah and Chloe.
For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain
Henry wadsworth longfellow
Oh the beauty, the loneliness, the devastation of the soul – all captured in this magnificent painting called The Isle of the dead by Arnold Böcklin, 1883.
Böcklin, was a Swiss symbolist painter who combined mythical stories with real-world inspiration to create striking fantastical paintings.
‘The Isle of the Dead’ is loosely based on the English Cemetery in Florence, Italy, near where he had an art studio. It was where he had laid to rest his baby daughter, Maria. No wonder then that ‘The Isle of the Dead’ is a bleak, desolate place, with a lonely white figure journeying into its shadow.
When I first saw this painting, without knowing the history, it brought me to my knees. The white figure, alone, once again visiting that dark lonely place where only she can go. That she stands ready as she knows that in this lifetime she is sentenced to revisit this dark place again and again. This is her place. Her place alone. And strangely for that she is eternally grateful – it is where she gets to be again with her precious child.
The pain of the loss was equal to the love that I had for her
When my child died I learnt that my favourite place was deep down with the tsunami of pain in my heart. It was that that connected me to her and gave me some peace. I learnt not to look away. The pain of her loss was equal to the love that I had for her. And that love was as big as the universe, so there was no getting away from the loss in this lifetime. I made peace with that.
But dear reader, I do not write to make you sad. I write to explain how my life has been made more lovely, more peaceful, richer through embracing the sadness, the difficulties and the hardships of life. I really do believe that the worst pain we can subject ourselves to, as human beings, is to buy into the myth that life must only ever be wonderful, magical and that nothing must change.
In Mark Carney’s Reith Lecture he charts how the world had come to esteem financial value over human value and how we have gone from market economies to market societies. How so many of us turned away from the inconvenient truth of the current and looming horrors of climate change. He even suggests that we turned out back on the whole concept of death – in a world where economic value had replaced God, death is for “losers” some could say.
And then Covid happened and death was back on the table. And perhaps also we were all left face to face with our own fundamental vulnerability – the fragility of human life. Did we all pause and look into the eyes of our loved ones, young and old, and remember that it is the ties that bind us that really matter in the end even though the object of our love may not be “economically viable”.
As millions of people stepped up to help their fellow man through volunteering for the NHS, food banks, or just giving more/a smile of acknowledgement to the people who beg on the streets – governments across the world seemed to step up and decide that when it really comes to it human life has the highest value of all.
For me there is such hope in this shifting mindset. Life and how we live it is everybody’s business – or should be. What madness is it that we lock ourselves away in gated houses that are way too big for us, when our fellow man sits on the street without a home, a hot meal or a loving embrace. There is a saying that parents can only be as happy as their unhappiest child, maybe this should apply to our wider world.
I learnt helplessness, vulnerability and the power of acceptance when my 15 year old daughter was diagnosed with cancer. Until that point I’d believed my own “bull***t – a pointy elbowed middle class entitled Mother and a journalist to boot. I’d faced down many opponents and mistakenly thought that friends in high places, knowing how to work systems and knowing how and when to fight. I had this cancer thing – it was only a matter of working my way around the system.
Ha I could feel the Gods laughing at me – my best was completely pointless in the wider plan. It was a freezing snowy winter’s night, the wind was howling and shaking the windows of the hospital and there was snow on the ground. Still so beautiful, I thought. But the very fabric of my whole imagined life was being blown apart – I felt like I was in an emotional war zone. I remember to this day my head in my hands, tears streaming down my face, running through the hospital corridors. Before that moment I had always searched for a doctor. That day I needed my priest.
Physicians who work on children’s cancer wards (if there is a heaven or whatever please God let these people be first in the queue) wait patiently for the parent to reach this point. As they know that it is in the acceptance of death that one can really start to live again. I am so grateful for my breakdown, at it enabled me to start loving and living with my child exactly as she was. I had 12 months in this state with my youngest girl and it held some of the most profound and wonderful moments of my life.
Or as Lao Tzu, the first philosopher of Chinese Daosim said “Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”
At Christmas, like many of you I rest more on the empty chairs around the table. And like you there will be more this year – but so thankfully they will be back again next year. And for that I cannot tell you how joyfully grateful I am. I will weep, as I always do, and I will wonder, as I always do, what she would have been like now. All grown up, those beautiful deep green Irish eyes and the courage of a lion.
This Christmas I will write, as I always do. Only this time I will share with you if you care to read/to listen and I hope to persuade you that there is such beauty in the acceptance of sadness. That despite whatever happens in life there is always a reason to be hopeful and to learn to love life again.
And for my sake, as much as yours, I will search out beautiful pieces of art, literature, poetry that will help us on our way and remind us all that despite everything it really is a very beautiful world indeed.
I love this quote and wish that you find many friends like this in your life
“A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself-and especially to feel, or not feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at any moment is fine with them. That’s what real love amounts to – letting a person be what he really is.” ― Jim Morrison
Yesterday, 22nd October, was my birthday. And despite Boris Johnson trying to ruin it all with his Tier 2 lockdown it was a grand day indeed. Full of love, meaningful gifts and messages from a lifetime of fun and great connections.
Yoga and sherry – and why not?
I learnt way back that it is the “small things”, always the seemingly “small things” that are the real magical ingredients of a good life. And these days I stop and take notice. I see in a friend’s face an adult lifetime of friendship, just looking at her I am drawn back onto that hill in Northern Italy where we danced in the late summer sunshine together to Dusty Springfield’s Son of a Preacher man. It opens a door in my mind back into youth where everything was full on colour, there were endless days and anything was possible. I no longer lament the loss of youth, instead I just feel so happy that I was there and felt those things.
Two school friends called – a warning here to younger people if you stay friends with these people you can never lie about your age and if you do, as I did once in a national newspaper of all places 😦 , you become the butt of jokes for years to come – but it just makes my heart sing hearing from women who have shared almost the whole life journey. Family and friends – it’s where it’s at and all the rest is really just stuff.
I fear I may have to join the Dolly Parton fan club to find other souls who get just how utterly brilliant she is.
And later we danced – me and him indoors. My birthday, so I chose the playlist. Barry White Sho’You Right , Luther Vandross Never Too Much , Tina Turner Private Dancer, Kylie Can’t Get You Out of my Head. Later we did The Jam Going Underground and Dexys Midnight Runners Come on Eileen – to me so evocative of us teenagers growing up in South London in the early 80s. After a few champagnes I tried to throw in a few country and western songs – I am such a fan but have never found anybody to share this with – but the horror on his face said it all and I gracefully moved on to a Van Morrison’s In the Garden – mainly to calm the mood. I fear I may have to join the Dolly Parton fan club to find other souls who get just how utterly brilliant she is.
So anyhow I woke up this morning and thought I know what I’ll do – I’m going to write down the 10 top lessons for life. I feel I’ve done a lot of stuff, and had a lot more stuff happen to me, maybe I’ve got something interesting/useful to say. So here goes:
Life lesson #1 “Most of the old moles I know wish they had listened less to their fears and more to their dreams”. Lesson one so beautifully captured in Charlie Mackesy’s The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse”. Incidentally I want to start a national campaign to ensure this book is made mandatory reading to every child, teenager and adult in the country. Through these extraordinary animations he captures in such simple terms how we should all live our lives and treat each other. On my Mother’s deathbed she left me with a similar thought “I don’t regret anything that I did; but I so regret all the things I wanted to do and didn’t”
Life lesson #2 All women by the time they’ve reached 40 should be encouraged/forced to read the following: Nora EphronI feel bad about my neck’ absolutely anything by Dorothy Parker who said the best line of all time “I like to have a Martini, two at the most. After three I’m under the table. After four I’m under my host”. Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay, Bossypants by Tina Fey, absolutely anything by Marilynne Robinson, although I think that Housekeeping is my favourite, Middlemarch by George Elliot, The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy (to learn about character), End of the Affair by Graham Greene (on love and misunderstandings). Note to self to read NW by Zadie Smith and I’ve yet to get through Donna Tartt’s Goldfinch and I know that is an appalling admission. I love Everything I Know About Love from Dolly Alderton for younger women and Caitlin Moran is always worth listening to. Oh and absolutely everything and anything by Maya Angelou – listen to her perform But Still I rise. One of the most amazing performances of all time.
Life lesson #3 Do yoga from the age of 25. If that’s way too late start now. Yoga is simply a full medicine cabinet in one place. It treats your mind, your body and your spirit. You look better, you move better and your joints stop hurting so much. It is a complete no brainer for your health so please if you haven’t already, immediately go out and buy that mat and join the millions of people who do.
Life lesson #4 “There’s good in the worst of them and bad in the best of them” and “love everybody, but trust only a few”. All from my 5ft nothing Irish Grandma Mary McKay. 14 children and lost her husband in the war – but was the bravest, fiercest and funniest woman of all by all accounts. I never met her, as she died before I was born, but her wisdom and stories flood through the veins of my family. Her belief that we are all capable of good and bad is such a lovely way to view the world and it makes us all so much more compassionate, interconnected and allows us to forgive ourselves first and foremost and then to reach out to not be so judgemental of others. Not easy! But I so believe this is key to living well.
Life lesson #5 You can’t control what happens to you; but you always have a choice of how you respond. The essential message from “my bible” Man’s Search for Meaning by holocaust survivor and Psychiatrist Viktor Frankl . It is a seminal work on thriving, not merely surviving, after trauma and it changed my life. Also in this genre is The Choice by Edith Eger – again the message is that we always have the power to steer our own lives once we accept the choices that we have available at any given time.
Life lesson #6 Learn quickly to respond and not react. I wish I’d known this earlier. As soon as we react to others we are letting go of our own internal value and strength. Try hard, and it is hard, not to enter into other people’s dramas or bad moods. Identify your core beliefs and values and stay true to these whatever happens. I love the metaphor of tree pose in yoga. Standing firm and strong, with balance, at the root and then gently staying flexible so one can move with the moment – but never moving away from the root.
Life lesson #7 – Mind your own business 🙂 Similar to the point above. But never let anybody decide for you when is not enough, when is too much, what you should be doing with your life, how to succeed and how to fail, how not to make a fool of yourself – making a fool of yourself is an essential skill in my humble option and we don’t do it nearly enough. If we are so terrified of making a fool of ourselves we get locked in a prison of other people’s expectations and beliefs and this is a very bad place to get to. If we want to live bold, magnificent and full on lives then pushing out of our comfort zones and keeping on challenging ourselves has got to be part of the mix. Safe, staid lives don’t do it for me and there is absolutely no time to waste. Do the internal work necessary, and it usually is necessary, to understand what you want to do with this precious life of yours and then tune into your inner voice – it is the greatest guide of all.
Life lesson #8 Take karma seriously. I promise you, and I’ve been doing my own little life study of this, people who keep doing bad things run out of road in the end. Take responsibility, say sorry when you need to and move on. Be ruthless around keeping everything around you in harmony with your own belief system. This means the way you look after your body and mind, including the things you watch/read/engage with, your home surroundings and the people you choose to spend time with. Not all relationships work and some run out of steam – be brave and keep your own standards. Letting go of things/people is sometimes the best, or only, option.
Life lesson #9 “I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear.” Rosa Parks. Never be afraid to voice your truth however hard that may be, and sometimes it is inordinately hard. Never be afraid to be unpopular and ditch people pleasing as soon as you can. Never lie to yourself, your very soul is damaged when you do this.
Life lesson #10 “There is safety in reserve, but no attraction. One cannot love a reserved person”. Jane Austin Emma. Enough said.
…. and finally take this from me who has seen many children and young people not able to live the lives that were promised to them, getting old is an absolute privilege. Don’t waste a moment worrying about it. Love those lines like crazy, they mean you’ve lived to tell the tale. Dance lots, sing if you can, or do whatever fun pointless thing that makes you feel more alive, employ a great therapist, surround yourself with people who love you and you them and feel sorry for those who don’t – oh and enjoy that occasional tipple of your choice (within Govt guidelines of course)
Stay safe, stay happy and love to you all
Debbie x
I learnt way back that it is the “small things”, always the seemingly “small things” that are the real magical ingredients of a good life. And these days I stop and take notice. I see in a friend’s face an adult lifetime of friendship, just looking at her I am drawn back onto that hill in Northern Italy where we danced in the late summer sunshine together to Dusty Springfield’s Son of a Preacher man. It opens a door in my mind back into youth where everything was full on colour, there were endless days and anything was possible. I no longer lament the loss of youth, instead I just feel so happy that I was there and felt those things.
Two school friends called – a warning here to younger people if you stay friends with these people you can never lie about your age and if you do, as I did once in a national newspaper of all places 😦 , you become the butt of jokes for years to come – but it just makes my heart sing hearing from women who have shared almost the whole life journey. Family and friends – it’s where it’s at and all the rest is really just stuff.
I fear I may have to join the Dolly Parton fan club to find other souls who get just how utterly brilliant she is.
And later we danced – me and him indoors. My birthday, so I chose the playlist. Barry White Sho’You Right , Luther Vandross Never Too Much , Tina Turner Private Dancer, Kylie Can’t Get You Out of my Head. Later we did The Jam Going Underground and Dexys Midnight Runners Come on Eileen – to me so evocative of us teenagers growing up in South London in the early 80s. After a few champagnes I tried to throw in a few country and western songs – I am such a fan but have never found anybody to share this with – but the horror on his face said it all and I gracefully moved on to a Van Morrison’s In the Garden – mainly to calm the mood. I fear I may have to join the Dolly Parton fan club to find other souls who get just how utterly brilliant she is.
So anyhow I woke up this morning and thought I know what I’ll do – I’m going to write down the 10 top lessons for life. I feel I’ve done a lot of stuff, and had a lot more stuff happen to me, maybe I’ve got something interesting/useful to say. So here goes:
Life lesson #1 “Most of the old moles I know wish they had listened less to their fears and more to their dreams”. Lesson one so beautifully captured in Charlie Mackesy’s The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse”. Incidentally I want to start a national campaign to ensure this book is made mandatory reading to every child, teenager and adult in the country. Through these extraordinary animations he captures in such simple terms how we should all live our lives and treat each other. On my Mother’s deathbed she left me with a similar thought “I don’t regret anything that I did; but I so regret all the things I wanted to do and didn’t”
Life lesson #2 All women by the time they’ve reached 40 should be encouraged/forced to read the following: Nora EphronI feel bad about my neck’ absolutely anything by Dorothy Parker who said the best line of all time “I like to have a Martini, two at the most. After three I’m under the table. After four I’m under my host”. Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay, Bossypants by Tina Fey, absolutely anything by Marilynne Robinson, although I think that Housekeeping is my favourite, Middlemarch by George Elliot, The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy (to learn about character), End of the Affair by Graham Greene (on love and misunderstandings). Note to self to read NW by Zadie Smith and I’ve yet to get through Donna Tartt’s Goldfinch and I know that is an appalling admission. I love Everything I Know About Love from Dolly Alderton for younger women and Caitlin Moran is always worth listening to. Oh and absolutely everything and anything by Maya Angelou – listen to her perform But Still I rise. One of the most amazing performances of all time.
Life lesson #3 Do yoga from the age of 25. If that’s way too late start now. Yoga is simply a full medicine cabinet in one place. It treats your mind, your body and your spirit. You look better, you move better and your joints stop hurting so much. It is a complete no brainer for your health so please if you haven’t already, immediately go out and buy that mat and join the millions of people who do.
Life lesson #4 “There’s good in the worst of them and bad in the best of them” and “love everybody, but trust only a few”. All from my 5ft nothing Irish Grandma Mary McKay. 14 children and lost her husband in the war – but was the bravest, fiercest and funniest woman of all by all accounts. I never met her, as she died before I was born, but her wisdom and stories flood through the veins of my family. Her belief that we are all capable of good and bad is such a lovely way to view the world and it makes us all so much more compassionate, interconnected and allows us to forgive ourselves first and foremost and then to reach out to not be so judgemental of others. Not easy! But I so believe this is key to living well.
Life lesson #5 You can’t control what happens to you; but you always have a choice of how you respond. The essential message from “my bible” Man’s Search for Meaning by holocaust survivor and Psychiatrist Viktor Frankl . It is a seminal work on thriving, not merely surviving, after trauma and it changed my life. Also in this genre is The Choice by Edith Eger – again the message is that we always have the power to steer our own lives once we accept the choices that we have available at any given time.
Life lesson #6 Learn quickly to respond and not react. I wish I’d known this earlier. As soon as we react to others we are letting go of our own internal value and strength. Try hard, and it is hard, not to enter into other people’s dramas or bad moods. Identify your core beliefs and values and stay true to these whatever happens. I love the metaphor of tree pose in yoga. Standing firm and strong, with balance, at the root and then gently staying flexible so one can move with the moment – but never moving away from the root.
Life lesson #7 – Mind your own business 🙂 Similar to the point above. But never let anybody decide for you when is not enough, when is too much, what you should be doing with your life, how to succeed and how to fail, how not to make a fool of yourself – making a fool of yourself is an essential skill in my humble option and we don’t do it nearly enough. If we are so terrified of making a fool of ourselves we get locked in a prison of other people’s expectations and beliefs and this is a very bad place to get to. If we want to live bold, magnificent and full on lives then pushing out of our comfort zones and keeping on challenging ourselves has got to be part of the mix. Safe, staid lives don’t do it for me and there is absolutely no time to waste. Do the internal work necessary, and it usually is necessary, to understand what you want to do with this precious life of yours and then tune into your inner voice – it is the greatest guide of all.
Life lesson #8 Take karma seriously. I promise you, and I’ve been doing my own little life study of this, people who keep doing bad things run out of road in the end. Take responsibility, say sorry when you need to and move on. Be ruthless around keeping everything around you in harmony with your own belief system. This means the way you look after your body and mind, including the things you watch/read/engage with, your home surroundings and the people you choose to spend time with. Not all relationships work and some run out of steam – be brave and keep your own standards. Letting go of things/people is sometimes the best, or only, option.
Life lesson #9 “I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear.” Rosa Parks. Never be afraid to voice your truth however hard that may be, and sometimes it is inordinately hard. Never be afraid to be unpopular and ditch people pleasing as soon as you can. Never lie to yourself, your very soul is damaged when you do this.
Life lesson #10 “There is safety in reserve, but no attraction. One cannot love a reserved person”. Jane Austin Emma. Enough said.
…. and finally take this from me who has seen many children and young people not able to live the lives that were promised to them, getting old is an absolute privilege. Don’t waste a moment worrying about it. Love those lines like crazy, they mean you’ve lived to tell the tale. Dance lots, sing if you can, or do whatever fun pointless thing that makes you feel more alive, employ a great therapist, surround yourself with people who love you and you them and feel sorry for those who don’t – oh and enjoy that occasional tipple of your choice (within Govt guidelines of course)
“If you are always trying to be normal you will never know how amazing you can be.”
– Maya Angelou
Hello my lovely, gorgeous Life in the Middle Lane followers and friends. Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me and sending me so many of your stories/your lives/your challenges.
It is these stories that have partly inspired me to set up Rock My Age http://www.rockmyage.com. That and a constant drive to do something good in my daughters’ name. Unfulfilled potential or women unable to make their dreams come true goes straight to my heart.
So if I may, if you will, invite you to hop across to rockmyage.com and see what you think. I will still be writing here too – but I think you may like what you see. It is entirely built on love, passion and female friendship and a desire to do something good in the world.
And so today (23rd June, 2020) our Rock My Age journey takes off. Where it will go, we do not know. But we are certain that we are in for one hell of ride, as we seek to boldly step into fresh new territory around women and age!
Our mission is to create a space where women like us – spirited, curious, ambitious women – can lead/share/celebrate conversations/skills and wisdom around the pleasure that comes with being happy in the age we are in right now.
With lifestyle content, coaching and wise living retreats we are all about enhancing women’s wellbeing and opportunities in life and work. We are passionate about rewriting the narrative on age and creating a positive legacy for the next generation of women.
Sure we want to shake things up a bit; but always with a wink and a smile (isn’t that our most potent female force – that heady combination of soft and strong but with a touch of humour). We want to call time, once and for all, on the mythical narrative that’s persistent in the media, that women would want to hide their age, or be obsessed with “looking younger” or be prevented from doing anything at all because of their age.
It is all nonsense! But we do recognise that some women sometimes feel less than, judged or discriminated against simply because of their age. This is not ok.
The figures and facts speak for themselves. Us midlife and older women are the healthiest and wealthiest of a generation. We have power ladies, loads of it. We think that the media, the advertisers, the marketeers are slowly waking up to this – budgets alone will drive their interest – but we think there’s a lot of work to do to ensure that all women, whatever their age, are empowered and inspired to live the life that they want to lead. And so many more of us are doing amazing new and different things with our lives – showing that life is full of wonder and magic at any age. It really is there for the taking.
We have a hunch that there are quite a few women out there who may want to join our ride? We so hope so and we are so looking forward to meeting more of you and hearing your amazing stories. One thing I know having worked as a journalist for so many years, women our age often have the best of all stories. And often full of laughter, humility and fun.
I guess Erika and I share a kind of bohemian spirit around our journey, our lives, the way we view the World. We want to live full on, unconventional lives right to the very end – but we are also driven by deep values of love, compassion, community and ethical living. We truly do believe, in the words of Madeleine Albright, “there’s a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women.”
I believe that Erika and I were destined to meet. As our dear friend, and Master Yoga and Tai Chi “guru”Sue Woodd says “when we work on our internal worlds enough a soul knows a like minded soul when it finds it.” I think this speaks to the beautiful friendship that Erika and I have built and to the many many gorgeous women who we surround ourselves with. We will be showcasing so many of them/us on the Rock My Age Platform. Successful business women, women who lead in charitable sectors, entrepreneurs or women just doing amazing women things. We will dig deep beneath the surface to reveal the humanity and those golden nuggets of wisdom that these women have. We will build a rich depository of wisdom that we, or future generations, can dip into whenever we/they want.
But we are certainly not setting out to paint a rosey picture of midlife and the World in general. Gosh such bad things are happening now. But we do believe fundamentally in hope and lifting others up. We know through our own lives that sometimes the world goes very dark indeed and that ultimately we have very little control on external events. But we are driven and united in our belief that if we can get our internal worlds right well that is when the magic truly happens. We can live our best, our most luminous, most valuable life for every minute we are blessed to be on this earth.
Rock My Age is for you if you have a huge open curious heart, ambition and a passion for life long learning and development and/or if you just want come along and have a whole lot of fun.
“The egoless child is still calmly sitting inside each of us. Buried in layers over layers of lies, egos, and personas. Happy nonetheless. Waiting to be found. Let out” ― Mo Gawdat, Solve For Happy: Engineering Your Path to Uncovering the Joy Inside You
“I’m a trained extrovert,” says Mo Gawdat, former chief business officer of Google X, an entrepreneur, author of the book Solve for Happy, and officially the coolest guy on the planet.
Gawdat thinks there are a hell of a lot of us trained extroverts out there and that we are all suffering a lot because of it. He talks of how we’ve designed an uber-extrovert World where we avoid the real thinking and creativity and instead turn to our quick fixes of constant hook-ups, networking, meetings, conference calls, dinner parties, conferences, coffee breaks … and this is before we even get into social media.
It’s tough on introverts. Maybe it’s tough on everyone. I was watching twitter addict Trump and I was overcome by a deep sadness for him as a human being (no I haven’t lost my mind) I just felt how horrible it would be to be inside his manic reactive head. I fundamentally agree with the Dalai Lama when he says the true nature of all of us is compassionate and kind. It’s hurt that gets in the way and is the root cause of making people behave so badly. Underneath there could be a very hurt little child.
Once we get this idea it is incredibly difficult to hate anybody. And by not hating we can clean up our own souls and heart and allow all the good things in. Not hating is as much for our benefit as for everybody else.
Having thought carefully about this action orientated behaviour, I agree that every time I reach for that coffee break I’m indulging in some kind of addictive behaviour. And that this behaviour is fundamentally bad for me. It is seriously impacting on the quality of my thoughts, my imagination and my ability to be all I can be in the World.
It’s got to change.
I’ve read Gawdat and loved him for a while. But I found something more from him when a friend sent me a recent Guardian Newspaper The Upside Podcast: In conversation with Mo Gawdat and it’s had an extraordinary effect on me. The Guardian’s mission to provide “a dose of optimism” during these challenging times is journalism at its best and most thoughtful. Wonderful!
Gawdat speaks in his usual modest, beautiful and thoughtful manner about how really in the West we don’t have much to complain about – even with COVID-19. Life is fundamentally risky and he talks a lot about his equation for happiness = one’s perception of reality MINUS expectations. His thoughts on the “game of life” are fascinating and he has lots and lots to say about how any kind of human control on anything is largely an illusion. I want to go back to his thoughts on the link with happiness and chaos theory as I think science has so much to show us in this area.
It got me thinking hard about the paradox of this lockdown thing. On the face of it it is so terrible – yet I’ve certainly personally lived through worse. But I’ve found a most golden core, peace and silence at it’s heart that I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced before. I largely view it as the ultimate opportunity for self development and to face my demons – of which there remain quite a few.
But then on Sunday it all fell apart for me. It’s always bad on a Sunday – maybe it’s a Catholic thing.
I felt I was “starving to death” from the lack of human contact and fantasised about dashing back to London, touching and hugging every human being I could find (don’t worry I was aware it was a mad dream), get coffees – loads of them – and drink them all day in busy parks.
In reality the most I was contemplating was a return to the City as the silence of the countryside was becoming way “too loud” for me.
And then I remembered Gawdat’s words and the thoughts expressed around loneliness of almost every philosopher and psychologist I’ve read or met. And the words of the Dalai Lama in The Art of Happiness. It’s at that point of discomfort where the real learning begins. It’s what we find most difficult that is where our real teacher lies but only if we want to listen – and for me the big elephants in the room have been and are always loneliness or a fear of missing out.
I’ve never really seen myself as being addicted to anything – apart from cake – but I can imagine it is at this pain point that the addiction kicks in. Isn’t it that deep empty loneliness, longing for some kind of love/comfort/relief that gets us all sometimes. We cannot stay with that thought a moment longer as it will rise up and swallow us hole…the whole fabric of our body and soul is telling us to get the hell out of there.
No wonder some people turn to a drug of some kind as a balm to soothe that childlike pain. If we accept that we are all addicts in some shape or form I believe that it makes us so much less judgemental towards those poor souls who cannot face the pain just now. Whatever has happened in their childhoods must have been so terrible to numb the self protective stop button.
I may not be an addict of the usual substances, but I’ve re-thought my World and think I am an addict in terms of connection. Yup that is me Sir – stopping what I’m writing because it hurts too much, reaching for the phone because I can’t stand to be in my own head for one second longer. Stopping thinking because gets hard. Trying to get touch points through social media because – well just because I feel so lost and alone.
This time I didn’t act, because I was aware it was through acting that I would be giving in to the addiction. I sat with the discomfort and it felt really horrible. I felt all of those nasty emotions we try to smother – loss, envy, anger, hate. The urge to just run away as fast as I could to somewhere I didn’t know where. We all have them, these funny feelings, and it’s denying them, the psychologists tell us, is what provides that one way street to anger, depression and the need to hurt other people.
Finding stillness at that moment was the most courageous thing I have done for quite some time. I faced down the feelings and didn’t run and boy I felt like I’d conquered the World – I felt I’d tasted the best drug on earth. It was great.
Bonus – there were no after effects – I woke the next day with a kind of lightness and stillness that is quite new for me. Then got to work with a new gusto, it’s like actions and words started to flow out of me. The more I work on myself the more I get closer to that wonderful and illusive state of flow – also known colloquially as being in the zone and is the mental state when a person is fully immersed in a feeling or energised focus.
The more I work on this stuff the better I understand management guru Stephen Covey’s idea of the circle of influence vs the circle of concern as outlined in his book 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Like many people I’d spent years in my circle of concern boring anybody who’d listen about my worries about – well just about everything in the World. But gradually I’ve been drawing in to my much smaller circle of influence. Bit of a shock first of all about just how small that is – but it is, believe me, the door to incredible riches.
The more I focus on myself, my values, my reason to be in this World the less I care what other people think of me. Hey none of us are everybody’s cup of tea – but I have found the more I know myself the more I draw the kind of people I want into my inner circle. It creates the most amazing feeling of certainty and freedom – it’s like getting my own brand values aligned and right. The more I write for myself, the more letters I get from others saying “Hey me too, I feel like that …” The less I make manic efforts to connect, the more I feel connected to the people who really matter. The more I face down my demons the less interest I have in joining anybody else in any kind of battle with theirs.
Finally dear reader, if you wish to join me, I’m joining the slow movement as I really think this is where it’s at now. Don’t expect too much from me as I’ve been a very well trained extrovert for quite a few years. I got a bit clever by being a voracious reader so I’m going to read and read and summarise for you if you’d care to know more. And I’m going to capture those funny, simple little daily things that put a smile on my face and maybe yours. Here goes:
chasing three naughty lambs – for the 5th time – today who had escaped from a farmers field. It’s always the same three and they always give me a very ungrateful kick as I kindly lift them back over the fence to safety. Naughty but gorgeous.
listening to Bruce Springsteen’s The Wish on my morning run. I challenge any Mother of boys, or any boy who loved his Mother, not to weep with words like “if pa’s eyes were windows into a world so deadly and true. You couldn’t stop me from looking but you kept me from crawling through.” The whole album is divine
The rose that is growing up the side of the house and the delicate pink flowers that are peeking through my window are the first thing I see each morning. Could almost make one believe in God.
The new documentary Home on Apple TV. The ultimate in slow living and unveils the boundary pushing imagination of the visionaries who dare to build a home of their dreams. Lots of ethical and sustainable building and focussing on the wonderful interplay of man’s work and nature. Hours of bliss.
“Any human face is a claim on you, because you can’t help but understand the singularity of it, the courage and loneliness of it.” ― Marilynne Robinson, Gilead
Is it me or is it getting tough out there. I sense a shifting in the collective emotional state, as we gingerly stagger back into some kind of life. This thing hasn’t gone away so how are we supposed to navigate this “new normal”? Maybe, for some, if we weren’t directly impacted by this terrible thing, lockdown was fun at first. Maybe, a much needed reset on our mad mad world – but somewhere along the way I feel many of us have lost our footing and our heart aches at not being able to hug our family and friends, share that coffee, watch a film.
Oh the good old days, eh.
But most importantly how are you dear reader? No really, forget the “fine thanks”, how are you really doing? Does anyone ask you and if you dared to speak your truth would they stay and not turn away? Is there another human being who catches your eye and reassures just with a gentle smile “We’ll be ok. This too will pass”. Do they know exactly how you like your tea, your toast, the favourite cup, the right plate for each meal because – well just because that’s how love works.
Love and friendship, what jewels they are in life. As C.S Lewis says in The Four Loves “Friendship is born the moment when one man says to another ‘What! You too? I thought that no one but myself..”
It is never too late to connect. All one has to do is open up in the right circumstances to the right people and hey presto another human being to walk alongside you and to share your joys and your pain. Of course it doesn’t have to be a lover – although they are always nice to have – it can be a friend, a neighbour, a volunteer or even a help line. The key, I feel, is to recognise our own vulnerability and accept that sometimes the bravest thing we can do is to ask for help.
Life is so terribly hard sometimes. Sometimes we just need credit for showing up.
It’s the little things don’t you think? I lost interest in grand gestures, chasing perfection, acquiring more and more things way back when. They’d lost their razzle dazzle, for me, but in giving up I opened up my world to something way more unpredictable, seemingly smaller at first but ultimately so much richer.
I try to continually notice “the small things” and the more I notice the larger and more magical they become. Witnessing my daughter’s courage in standing up for the right thing always, (she doesn’t realise how brave she is), when a friend calls just to check in and share a little news, when he places a single flower next to my mandatory 6pm glass of something nice. They all make my heart sing and speak to a childlike place deep inside me that sometimes worries that “I did it all wrong” and “I’m not enough as I am”. Don’t we all have that place?
Ouch that was scary admitting that to you. I’m a strong, feisty woman who’s got it sorted. Right! But scratch the surface and, like you I suspect, I yearn to belong, to be accepted, to be liked for just the way I am. Isn’t this the human vulnerability that Brene Brown urges us to embrace if we are to make the best and deepest connections.
I quit judging a long while back, as I think judgment is the single biggest barrier to connections. And hey I’m so very far from perfect/sorted, I felt it wasn’t a great strategy to live by. I work hard to embrace humility and another of my regular mediations is drawn from those wonderful Leonard Cohen words “there is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”
Philosophy, the Stoics and Aristotle have a lot to teach us here. If you want a manual for leading a good life it’s all there for the taking. The ancient Greeks have so much to tell us about judgement and accepting our fellow man. Central to their belief here is that all of us could quite easily come apart if ever events chose to make that happen. Fate, they believed, was so often out of our hands.
This is the opposite of the black and white morality pedalled by our Western society and most especially by our tabloid press (I’m guessing Piers Morgan is not a fan of the Stoics). They lie when they tell us that if we just work hard enough, bounce back from life’s knocks, develop resilience – they say it’s all in our hands. They are wrong.
What if, as hard as we tried, we don’t recover from cancer, our business fails and we can’t start it again, what happens when we get old, lonely, sick and we need to rely on people to help us? At the end of the day thing are going to end badly for us in one way or another. As Clive James said “nobody gets out of here alive”.
To keep the idea of fate at the front of the collective imagination the Ancient Greeks developed a particular kind of art form: tragic drama. Tragedy is seen as the sympathetic, morally complex account of how good people can end up is disastrous circumstances. They thought that people should continually see this happening to counter their otherwise strong inclinations to judge and to moralise.
Such a great lesson isn’t it. If we quit judging we can open up our hearts and start really listening. And if we all did that more maybe we’d all live in a place like New Zealand that seems to be headed by one of the most decent, sensible and clever politicians of all time. Oh, and she’s a woman:)
My friends embrace vulnerability, embrace humility and love as much as you can. It’s a much more fun, joyous way to live. Surround yourself with quality people and hate the bad behaviour, but never the person. We too are horrible sometimes aren’t we? My Grand Mother apparently used to say “There’s good in the worst of them and bad in the best”. My family story is that she never turned anybody away from the family dinner table whatever “their crime”.
I never met my Grand Mother, as she died before I was born. But I love whispering her name Mary McKay. A Southern Irish woman who married a man from the North – ha the rebel spirit started early in my bloodline. But the more I learn about this five foot tall woman, who bore 14 children and lost her husband in the Second World War, the more I think how cool was she. I feel her warmth, love and indomitable spirit flooding through my veins. But mostly I witness her kindness and empathy in all of my family.
I think people are really struggling now. Not me so much as for once, for now, I’m on the right side of fate. But I remember so well what it felt like when I wasn’t. I think we all need to be terribly careful with each other and kinder and more compassionate than we’ve ever been. We have no idea what is really going on behind those strained faces, closed doors, or reassurances of “oh it’s fine”. A smile, an understanding word and no preaching – that’s the way to go.
Life in the Middle Lane 