My new venture – inspired by my love of women

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 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 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.


Debbie x

Hey reader down in my girl shed I’ve found a new cool meaning of life

“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.

Have a lovely week and see you soon.

Debbie x

“Sometimes even to live is an act of courage.”

Lucius Annaeus Seneca

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.

It could literally save somebody’s life.

Stay safe all.

Debbie xx

“I will be calm. I will be mistress of myself”

Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

Calm is such a beautiful word, don’t you think? Just whispering it softly could make one believe that everything really will be ok. Words are such a passion for me. I have a “bag” of favourite words at home and in there you will find “grace”, “dignity” “serendipity” “cherish” “love” “epiphany” and my children’s, my grandchildren’s and my parent’s names. I’m actually not sure that there is anything quite as moving as the names of one’s own family. My Mother was christened Norah McKay – she absolutely hated it, but now I think it’s pretty cool.

Something I have discovered in this weird period of lockdown is a growing passion for some of the writers I’d previously spurned. Take Jane Austen, why did I not know how totally brilliant she was and that she knew everything you needed to know about being a woman at any age. And as I’m just into the first chapter of Middlemarch – I know I know I feel totally ashamed that I hadn’t read it before – I feel I’m on a whole new literary journey into the wonder and excitement of female writers throughout the centuries.

You see back in the day I was a Thomas Hardy girl all the way and can proudly boast to have read The Mayor of Casterbridge 20 times before I was 25. Yes really, and that was cover to cover. I was obsessed with Graham Greene, although I never got why anyone would actually choose to be a Catholic, and his treatment of moral ambiguities in political settings. I still relive the dark haunting magic of Brighton Rock, when I visit the South Coast seaside town. And yes I even had a thing for Hemingway (I know a bad choice for a woman’s woman but have you read Old Man and the Sea – pure gold).

I guess back then, as the brooding, lost and quite lonely young woman I was, I was deeply touched and strangely comforted by Hardy’s pessimistic view of the world. And I still weep at one of my all time favourite lines:

Susan is pretty, but her face often has the hard, half-hearted expression on one who expects the worst.”

And this line got me thinking is there really anything so wrong in expecting the worst? Sometimes my greatest emotional difficulties in life have been caused when life hasn’t lived up to my hugely inflated aspirations of what it “should” be delivering. I think I actually got happy when I stopped investing in the future and realised we seldom have any control over much at all. Terrible things have always happened and I’m guessing always will. Whoever would have thought that that COVID-19 would be such a close neighbour – well actually Bill Gates did but that’s another story.

This acceptance idea really isn’t as grim a thought as it seems. Having studied Yoga, and the philosophy of yoga, for many years (I’m still very much an amateur) I have worked continually, and often very badly, in the pursuit of trying to live in the present. It certainly is a hard gig this “present living” and so often I drift off course lamenting “oh why oh why didn’t I take that dream job that would have transformed everything …blah blah blah. And, of course, if I could just have that house, life, cake, handbag … then everything will be just fine.

But, like a stream gently pounding away as it slowly and surely changes the form of the rock, continually drawing back into the present moment starts to change the shape of the mind. In the sublime Hindu scripture The Bhagavad Gita the mind is likened to a chariot of wild horses. One has to keep drawing in the reigns to gain control and keep the whole thing steady. And this really is lifelong work.

If you suffer, and I mean to use this word, from a very active mind like I do, I wholeheartedly recommend that, like me, you meditate on this idea every single day for the rest of your life:) It seems that there is never so many quick fixes with this mind stuff – one just has to keep coming back time and again. But when the medicine starts to work boy it is the most life changing/exciting trip I’ve ever been on.

I’m here to tell you after 10 years of meditation, I have transformed myself from a ruthlessly ambitious, neurotic, obsessive worrying hypochondriac into a normal-ish person. Most beautiful of all however is that I now feel at peace in my own skin. I would not trade this feeling for all the tea in China. It is as good as it gets.

Now young people, listen up, maybe you are lucky and you already feel this – I don’t have the evidence but I suspect if you do you are in the very fortunate minority here. But do not lose heart if you haven’t. Do not believe them when they say you are so exciting, such fun, so attractive, make things happen. If all the air, life and joy leave your body when you close that bedroom door then I have something else way more beautiful for you to believe in.

On the outside I had great life in my 20s and 30s, on the inside I was like an empty shell. But due to the work I’ve done on the inside, I now steer away from drama but my life has never been so exciting. I’m getting old now, but feel so young, vibrant and curious. I rarely worry about things going wrong, because the worst has already happened to me and whilst life is great now at some point in the future it will all go wrong again. It’s just how it works. Whilst I’d do anything not to be alone when I was young, now I choose to spend a lot of time alone yet I’ve never felt less lonely. I have lines around my eyes, my hair is shimmering with silver white strands and I’m way podgier than I would like – yet I’ve never felt more beautiful.

Oh I wish I could bag these ingredients for a wonder cure for any kind of misery and angst and give them back to my young self. I wish I could give them to you if you are struggling at whatever age you are at. It really is there for the taking. I think I’m talking most about serenity and non-attachment. Of course one has to adhere to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs – I’m not sure how much serenity can be found in Syria right now or any other war torn county. But if we have enough health, enough wealth, enough love we really have won the lottery. And yes even in lockdown.

So yup I’m getting bored now – maybe like you. I miss my family, my friends, my two little Grandchildren. But I’ve learnt, through my difficulties, that boredom is a great teacher and forces one to get creative. Apart from loving my new book I’ve taken to teaching my Grandchildren each night just for 15 minutes on zoom. We’ve done elephants, giraffes and planets and now dipping into biology. Seeing their little faces drinking in the weird and wonderful facts about our lovely lovely World, makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery. Reminder to self to write this in my gratitude diary.

If we get our mind right, everything else flows. And this is what I now have written above my desk. My mantra.

I will not let anyone walk through my mind with their dirty feet.”

Mahatma Gandhi

Stay safe, stay well and stay kind

Debbie x

Once we accept loneliness, we can get creative

Loneliness makes us more capable of true intimacy if ever better opportunities do come along. It heightens the conversations we have with ourselves, it gives us a character. We don’t repeat what everyone else thinks. We develop a point of view. We might be isolated for now, but we’ll be capable of far closer, more interesting bonds with anyone we do eventually locate.

The School of Life

I’ve always been lonely. I think it’s part of the very fabric of my character, as it seems to have permeated every stage of my life. I used to be embarrassed about admitting it – doesn’t it ooze the idea of the unwanted/the misfit/the pitiful – but for many years I have been working on accepting it.

I think that loneliness is very much central to the complexity of humanity. How can we be anything but lonely when we are born alone, die alone and really truly can anyone really understand us? And for that matter can we ever truly understand anybody else? Part of the rich tapestry of life – we are actually all so terribly interesting. And if we are all really lonely then surely that doesn’t make us feel so alone.

What I do know is that false company, false rainbows and false activities are a waste of this precious life and a one way street to misery. I ditched them long ago and I’m so grateful that I did. The phone didn’t ring so much, the party invitations dried up and there were a few hairy moments when people didn’t like the direction I was going in. I had to hold very very tight at times and keep my eye on the prize ahead – to live an entirely authentic meaningful life and, is Maya Angelou’s words, to live it with some style.

I spent 10 years working on myself – yup that long this internal stuff is hard hard work. I unwrapped, unpeeled, ditched, burnt all the messages that I didn’t want anymore. i went deep, and then when I was brave enough deeper still. I wrote, and wrote and wrote. I meditated and meditated some more. I spent years reading every psychology, philosophy, theology book I could get my hands on. My late husband once challenged the guy in the local Waterstones to” find one self-help book in here that my wife hasn’t read.” – to be fair he did, but it was a close run thing.

And then my daughter died and so did part of me. I had to start all over again.

But the work I had done permeated really deep and was a fundamental part of me learning to live again. They say you can only be as happy as your unhappiest child. I think that’s right and I’m still not exactly sure where that leaves us bereaved Mothers.

So there was me smugly thinking that all the work I’d done would kind of cushion me in this lockdown. I’ve made friends with loneliness and reframed it as an essential part of my creative mind. To be honest I’m not sure I’ve ever met a writer or other artist who shies away from being alone. I think the trick to all this is in the wording – alone/solitude good. Lonely – not so much.

But this lockdown thing presents a whole new challenge me thinks. As the external landscape has temporarily disappeared from view, the vaults of my mind seem to be swinging open again. And in there, for me at least, is a whole load of messy bits that could do with a good tidying up again. Above all else I feel the whispers of the past calling me again – back into the choppy waters of grief.

And so I will stay a while as I know so well that to do anything less would be a very bad idea. The School of Life (wonderful organisation) says insomnia is the revenge for all that we try so hard not to resolve in the daylight. I think the same applies to depression, unhappiness and loss of purpose/joy – our subconscious is such a powerful tool it will keep shout and roar at us until we stop and take notice.

I revisit so much of what happened with my daughter and I try and sit with the pain again and again. Sometimes it’s jagged edges soften a little, but other times I just have to take the stabs again and again into my heart. You see the pain of the loss really is equal to the strength of the love and it never goes away. But you know what that’s ok I never want it to. And this time I find myself planning a little gold pendant that I can wear around my neck, next to my heart, with her name on it. And that feels a really nice thought. And off I go again into the normal cadence of another day.

It’s all ok. It really is.

So many of us have our own griefs and losses don’t you think? Not always of a person, sometimes of a dream, a missed opportunity, our youth, our potential. This life thing is a tough gig. And maybe with all this space, your mind too is starting to crack open and invite you deep within….. terrifying/thrilling/inviting all at the same time.

Julia Cameron, one of the original self help gurus, says in her beautiful book The Artist’s Way “it feels like now is a good time for people to find their inner lives.” I half envy some of you who may just be starting out. You’ve got a cracking adventure ahead ..

In no way do I want to divert from the horror of this pandemic, of the lives lost in the most dreadful ways. But is it not also holding a giant mirror up to us all and our mad mad lives. Recent research shows that only 9% of people want to return to their pre-Covid lives. Whatever were we all doing that makes lockdown seem so appealing. Madness.

For me I have lived a gentler, quieter life ever since my daughter died. As I’ve said before it changed me at such a fundamental level. My brain was rewired then for kindness, compassion and connection. So strangely the more I let go of things, the more a beautiful space emerged where so many other things could grow and flourish. It was like I had stripped back some land and could now choose which crops to tend to create my life. The life I wanted to live.

I often retreat from the World to write and it gives me the deepest pleasure of almost anything else. And the more I have found my authentic voice, the more people talk to me, write to me, make friends with me. This all happened because I stopped listening to outside voices and instead made my own voice my best friend. So just as I was making friends with loneliness, I now have more connections with so many people across the World.

I also don’t mean to dismiss the pain of loneliness – and I am fortunate in so many ways as I so often choose this way of living. My heart literally breaks for the people who are trapped into lives where they have no human contact. Shame on us all for allowing any other human being to feel like this.

There’s this great new book out (I highly recommend it) Together: Loneliness Health and What Happens When We Find Connection by Vivek H Murthy. He repeats some of the dismal statistics on loneliness such as a 2009 study that showed the health impact of loneliness is the same as smoking 15 cigarettes a day. A 2013 poll showed that 76% of GPs in Britain said they saw between one and five patients a day whose visit was primarily driven by loneliness.

In my desperate times there have always been those magical people who just showed up and don’t go away. They haven’t tried to fix anything, they are just there and have walked beside me until things got a little better. And they are not always the people you expect – one of my greatest companions had been a work colleague I’d found an absolute nightmare. Another lesson there – let go of judgement – we really have no idea what other people are going through.

So like so many of my musings I come back at the end to love. To love, compassion and connection. If we all keep just showing up for our family, our friends, our community, I think that’s about as good as it can get. And just maybe so many more of us are being reminded of the real magic of this funny old life.

Please keep writing to me. I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and stories.

With all my love,

Debbie xx

“A Diamond is a chunk of coal that did well under pressure”

Henry Kissinger

Oh no my hair is going white. Yes, actually white! There are some little known advantages of having been a redheaded child. Once you choose to forget the constant claims that you have a bad temper (I don’t) and you suit green (I don’t). Apparently – and this is backed by research (not sure why they did this) – but us redheads feel less pain (true), have better immune systems (don’t intend to test this one in the current climate) and we lose our hair colour later in life and when it goes it goes snowy white (both true I’m now finding).

I’m guessing many of you out there are, like me, being re-acquainted by our midlife natural hair colour. And it’s proving a bit of a surprise, but maybe not as bad as we had once thought.

Ok I admit to a flicker of terror when the white first emerged. But then I caught a glimpse in a window, in the sunlight, and thought actually I can see a little Hollywood glamour there. Few days in I suddenly felt incredibly empowered – I can do this. I can go white and still be me and maybe even a better more authentic version of me. It felt not just ok, it felt good.

I’ve got this thing about the media narrative on age. The talk of demise, the horrors of menopause, decay, endings, empty nests, anti-ageing, turning back time … how boring and what nonsense. Sure things change and I do know some people have a horrible time with hormones. But for heavens sake there is so so much more to the un-chartered territory of age in this time – isn’t it all way more interesting than that?

With my history, believe me, I find it an absolute privilege to have reached the age of 56 and still feel (for now) in pretty good nick. I remember once shaving a couple of years off of my age for some fashion feature – yuck it just felt so horrible. It was as if I was lying to my own body and soul. The worst thing about not embracing one’s real age is the damage it does to our own authenticity and our own self esteem – it’s letting the shame message seep in and this is very bad for our mental health.

I’m so bored with sayings like “50 is the new 40″. It isn’t. Us humans last for a certain number of years and whilst this might be increasing, it’s not by much. I love that slogan “50 is the new 50” and really is there anything more sexy than that sassy confidence that comes with owning it and not giving a damn.

I’m not sure that there’s been a better time to celebrate just being alive, well and emotionally healthy. One of my life’s achievements is surviving. Trauma changed me completely. It made me: a better person, a nicer person and it gave me the ability to lead a better more joyful life. As they say “there’s a rainbow in every cloud” – but only if you want there to be.

Don’t we need a whole new truthful conversation about what it means to be the age that we are in. Speaking personally I want to know about the joy of being alive, embracing our lucky lives, being confident in our skin, passing down wisdom, falling in love again at any age, watching our families grow or loving our friends a little more each year as we know that this life thing is pretty unpredictable.

I look at the lines around my eyes and I can see pain, magic and love etched in each one. I have them because I’ve lived quite a few years and done quite a few things in that time – that makes me proud, not ashamed. I look at the tubbiness around my, once washboard, tummy and I feel so blessed that I was able to have two children. I look at my white hair – natural highlights that will save me a fortune – and think ah another mark of time moving on. I think of Helen Mirren, Honour Blackman (RIP), Emmylou Harris, Jamie Lee Curtis and how beautiful they all look. It’s all ok.

And then I think of that Kissinger quote and feel so passionately that the real loveliness of any human being so often comes out after really testing times. There’s such a dignity in resilience and survival and it’s all so interesting. Who knows what the challenge of these times will leave behind in our own bodies and souls.

I was enthralled by a beautiful article in this week’s Sunday Times by the palliative care doctor and author Rachel Clarke (I do think people who care for others at the end of life have so much to say about living one’s best life.) Titled “Finding light in the darkness” she points out that facing up to our own mortality is something many of us have never had to do until now. I was so delighted to hear her add, what I have believed for so long, that “when we do life becomes imbued with such joy”.

As I’ve said before I’ve spent many years researching, writing and thinking about death. At first it was forced upon me, but the more I looked and refused to turn away, the more interesting it all became. I can honestly say that it is this work, above anything else, that has given me the sheer grit and determination to never sweat the small stuff, forgive quickly, not enter anybody else’s drama and love as much and as often as I can.

It’s a great lesson. But I do know it can be too brutal an idea for many, especially in the current climate. So I will pipe down with my almost evangelical beliefs around daily meditations on death. Instead, if you don’t already, may I recommend meditating on the more gentle idea that time is short for all of us and we are all just passing through – as only then will the doors of your mind swing open and your real path – untarnished by external stuff – will make itself known. Peace and happiness are an inside job and we now all have the time to do the required internal work. How exciting is that.

And finally I leave you with thoughts of my two of my new loves – a 6pm gin and tonic (just one) and the English Poet Ted Hughes. I’ve always wanted to immerse myself in his work – and now in lockdown I’ve been able to do just that. I absolutely love what he says about living and I hope you enjoy it too:

The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing that people regret is that they didn’t live boldly enough, that they didn’t invest enough heart, didn’t love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.”

Happy, peaceful Easter to you all.

Debbie xxx

We can’t direct the wind; but we can adjust the sails

summer house, paraffin light and a wireless – so 1970s

Oh I thought I was a city girl at heart. Now, I’m not so sure. London is my City, it’s rooted into my heart. The vibrancy, the cultural mix, theatre on your doorstep, the cool urban fashion, the arts, the people – in more normal times it is an intellectual and cultural nirvana. Sure, it’s a bit stand off-ish, reserved and maybe even a bit brash – but stay a while and look deeply and you will find it has a great big warm soul. It’s hard making friends in cities, but be sure if you make a Londoner your friend it will be for life. There’s a decency and honesty to this liberal City, which always makes me hopeful (even in the current situation). And I speak as a woman of proud Irish origin who has adopted this great City as my own – and if you know anything about the Irish of my generation this is a compliment indeed.

Now for the past month I’ve been hanging out in the English countryside (half necessity half choice) and I’ve found, to my utter delight and surprise, a whole new way of living and feeling.

Let me rewind a moment and set some context. I have history with self isolating so I’ve learnt a thing or two about living like this. Maybe like you dear reader, I’ve also seen life turn very dark and very frightening in the blink of an eye. I learnt long ago that one can rage and rage and the universe does not always speak back. Events unfold and us humans are so often left vulnerable and defenceless. There is no fairness, no justice – it just is what it is.

When my little girl was ill, I dared the Gods in heaven to take me on – a Mother half mad with grief for what she thought should have been. I almost heard them laugh and whisper “Who are you to think you are so special. Who are you to think you have any control.”

I didn’t and I was swept along in the debris that was left after they’d finished with me and my family. But I did learn something very precious, that is serving me well in these difficult days. In Maya Angelou’s words “if you don’t like something change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.”

I spent three years in and out of self-isolation with my daughter. It was hell, heart-breaking and completely magical. It was all of those things – sometimes at the same time. But the real beauty of the moment only emerged when I gave up trying to change things and instead looked for the hope and joy in every moment.

And we found it – we found so much of it. First I had to drop any silly illusions of grandeur – nobody cared what I did for a living or how successful I thought I’d been – it was of no interest and of no help. Then I had to give up on time and any expectation that anything would happen. I lived for many weeks, months and even years in my house and quite often in her bedroom. The World kept on turning and I often didn’t know if it was day or night.

Here’s the strangest thing – looking back I had some of the happiest times of my life – they were certainly amongst the most deeply spiritual times where I saw up close and very personal what really mattered. Family, friends came by and stayed. Instead of clock watching, we stopped and nestled into each other. We talked, we read poetry, watched TV, played games, looked at the stars, baked and sometimes just did nothing.

And here we are again, but this time it’s all of us in it together – no place to run. To me this seems very familiar territory – again fate seems to be raging at us and reminding, should we need it, that this kind of pandemic has no respect for money, status or creed. Gosh it really is the ultimate leveller.

In the countryside I have been so enthralled to hear, and I mean really hear, the birdsong. Is there anything more beautiful? My daily rush hour tube crush (God knows how any of us will ever think that this is ok after all of this) is replaced by a morning yoga session with a growing community of people looking to start the day in a different way. I take time to call friends and family and really listen to what they are saying and likewise I feel really heard for the first time in a few years.

My partner and I have slotted into a gentle cadence of a new timetable. I used to hate him travelling away so much with work, now he’s with me and we talk like we’ve never done before. I feel a whole different connection and it reminds me that the most important gift we can give to another human being is our time.

I’ve always suspected that I am at heart an introvert, albeit in extravert clothing… my job, the City demanded a more assertive personality. With the slowness, with the silence I have found my inner introvert taking over and really embracing “her” moment in the Sun. I’ve found this Summer House in the garden – I’ve named it “my girl shed” – and I’ve been virtually living down there. Tucked in the corner of the garden it has opened up a whole new inner World for me .. and I’m peeking through into all of the rooms of my own mind. I’m not sure that there is anything more fascinating than how our minds work and if we just give them the space to open up you could find some real hidden gems there.

Ok I’m only four weeks in. I have four pairs of trousers and six tops. I can’t do my hair and I can’t wear my huge selection of high heels. And so far none of this matters. I’m more careful what I cook, what I throw away, I tut at the unnecessary packaging that everything seems to come in and I’ve been in a car twice. So far I’ve uncovered a happiness and peace of mind that I touched before when my daughter was ill – but for some God forsaken reason I chose to forget about the learnings when I returned to normal life.

Not this time. I vow. If I was a religious woman, which I’m not, I would feel that God was reigning down his/her fury on us for our selfish, uncaring way of life. But I am a deeply spiritual person and I do believe we are having a giant mirror placed in front of us and I certainly don’t like what I see.

I have been meditating on what I want my life to look like from here on in. As a student of Buddhism I already meditate on death each day – I find this a completely joyful thing to do as it helps one not sweat the small stuff. I want to live each day as it truly is my last and then I know I have lived every second of this precious life. And what better way to honour our own dead than to embrace each second.

So I’m off back to my girl hut for the evening to work on a whole new creative project – something incredibly close to my heart . Watch this space so much more to come……

Oh and a huge thank you to the kind people who ask me to write. Writing helps me make sense of the World, but if I think even one of you is listening that makes it even more worthwhile.

Stay safe, hold each other very tight and stay home.

Debbie x

To the women in my life – with love

I’ll tell you a secret my dear friends – I’ve never really felt that I’ve belonged anywhere. As a child I would stare through other people’s windows, see the table set, the dimmed lamps and laughter and shared love. I thought it was lovely, but I never felt that would ever be part of my life.

I’ve glimpsed it but never felt that family blanket of love that would catch you whenever you fell whatever you did. Just never had it – and take it from me if you do have it cherish it with all your heart. It is a gift indeed. My early lesson was that I had to be the good child, not rock the boat and to work as hard as I could to keep any kind of show on the road. I don’t blame anybody anymore it’s just how it was.

I loved my Mother very much. It broke my heart when she died and left me at 19 with no family support and -perhaps even worse – no female role model to shine a light on the path ahead. I feel so sad when I look back at the bewildered, terrified and isolated young woman that I was.

But – I got the point pretty quickly necessity is so often the “mother of invention“. We really are stronger than we think – but only if we choose to be.

I strapped my boots on, dusted myself off and made a clear intention – I was going to survive and in the words of the wonderful Maya Angelou I was not just going to survive, but to thrive and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humour and some style.

And reporting back from the grand old age of 56, battle-weary maybe from some of life’s most horrid hurdles and a little beaten and bruised, I figure it was a pretty good intention to live one’s life by.

I have survived and I have done so – I hope – without losing the ability to care, to be kind, to connect and to live with utmost integrity. This final point is, I believe, the magic ingredient that is always required if one wants to live a happy life. Your body and soul knows when you are mean, tell fibs, speak badly of others – every fibre of you knows this and it will come back to get you.

But there’s something else that I want to share. Something that has formed a critical pillar in my life and has given me strength when I’ve needed it and comfort too. It’s the thing that keeps me up and I know will never desert me.

It is female friendship. Throughout all of my life I’ve been blessed with the most wonderful girlfriends. Some are new – I’ve met somebody recently who I’m quite sure will be a friend for life – others stretch back to school days, first jobs, yoga classes, friends of friends, my children’s friends Mothers. I have had the most amazing joy and some sense of family through these relationships.

So a lady wrote to me the other day and said how much she enjoyed my blog. I was so touched. And then she said the magic words – she’d given my blog to her daughter’s to read and they’d so enjoyed it. She asked me to write more – so my dear reader this post is really for you.

And here’s why. My early path in life, with no female role models, was bleak. I probably chose a particularly ruthless path – newspapers, fashion journalism, TV journalism – but I never found anybody then who I could look up to. I so wanted to see the woman I wanted to be – but they weren’t there. Looking back maybe I wasn’t ready to find them.

There is something inside me so strong that I want to model for young women what good looks like as one gets older. The negative narrative in the media of empty nests, demise, becoming invisible does not speak to me as it just isn’t true. Getting older is such a privilege denied to so many, I feel so blessed that I can spend my life trying to do something good, memorable, helping others – however small those gestures might be.

I am so blessed to have so many great women in my life – but believe me I’ve worked at it. All relationships need work and, second only to being a good Mother and Grand Mother, is my desire to be a good friend. It is the best investment that anybody can make.

And there was I thinking I had a full complement of female friends and along came one of the most magnificent women I’ve ever met. Sue Woodd a human dynamo, fizzing with vibrancy, energy and so much humour and joy. She has been a life saver for me and now a kind of spiritual guide. And now, through her, I’ve met a whole tribe of other women who I feel completely at home with….. dare I whisper it almost like a family.

There are so many kindred souls out there if we choose to open our hearts to them. In these troubled times, what really matters comes to forefront. I hold my friends hearts very tightly and never want to let go. They really are as good as it gets.

Stay safe out there and much love

Debbie x

Hey all my girlfriends out there please remember the real power is within

Photo by Retha Ferguson on

I swear I will never do this again! Last week I heard the totally amazing Debra Searle talk about what she’d learnt about rowing the Atlantic single handedly (her husband bailed early on) in a plywood rowing boat. She was alone at sea for months and went half mad with loneliness – but she did it. God what a woman.

So afterwards I went up to her and just said: “Debra, why did you do this?” She answered briefly before looking me straight in the eye and saying “how do you get your hair to go like that at the back?”

I’m sure Debra won’t mind me repeating this as we both clamped our hands over our mouths “What are we doing?? What about the trip – the days at sea, not seeing anyone for months, how totally awesome she is…… who cares about the flipping hair!!!

Why oh why do us women give our power away like this. Why do we care so much about what we look like (I include myself in this) Sometimes I think we’re our own worst enemies. We look everywhere to make us feel stronger/better/more worthy – and guess what it never ever works. A hairstyle, a piece of clothing, a man, the right shoes/bag/scarf -none of these things will ever ever work longterm.

Debra Searle is magnificent! Look her up – she’s done an extraordinary thing. So are so many of the women I work with. But get them on the quiet and so many of them will admit to all kinds of insecurities. Is it that we are honest and it’s just human to express vulnerability sometimes – btw I think it’s an absolute honour when somebody trusts you enough to admit this side of themselves. I guess men do this too – I love Alain de Botton’s advice that if a man buys a Ferrari he just really needs a hug as it’s a sure sign of inner weakness. Maybe men just do it in different ways.

So this week I’ll be working with two of my favourite women – mainly coaching around media. I know I will be laughing out loud, be totally inspired by their courage and zest for life – I also know we’ll do a lot of talking about: how to be heard, how to be assertive not aggressive, how to tackle imposter syndrome…same old, same old.

And I’ll point to women I think do power really well. Mishal Husain, Emily Maitlis (her forensic, detailed, professional drilling into Prince Andrew’s ridiculous alibi was a masterclass in interviewing techniques) and, of course, Helen Mirren. I think this is largely personal preference: I prefer grace dignity and steely calmness, but I do think this is just one way of doing female power. Others do well with bolshy, loud, domineering – that just doesn’t do it for me.

So as I prepare for my week I’ve jotted down what I think female power/influence is and what it is not. Please feel free to disagree:

  • It always comes from the inside – when somebody really knows who they are, what they are prepared to stand for and when they are prepared to stand up and be counted – and most importantly when the fight isn’t worthy of you
  • It is often quiet, although not always, it is about gravitas, grace under pressure and direct/honest communication
  • It is never about bullying, humiliating others, blocking other women, blocking anybody
  • It is NEVER achieved through: a relationship, status, a job title, how thin/rich somebody is
  • It is firmly boundaried and there is clarity around who is allowed in and who is not. The woman knows that there are some very unpleasant views out there about what a woman should and should not be. She is never cowed, but only chooses the battles she wants to fight.
  • She only engages in social media when she is in control – she can delete what/who she wants/whenever she wants. Anything but this is complete madness.
  • she looks after all other women – young, middle-aged, old – and knows it can be an increasingly scary world and we so need each other more than ever

Like so many others I was utterly heart broken to hear of the death of the super talented, sassy, charismatic Caroline Flack. All I hope is that this gives us all a little nudge to be that tiny bit kinder to each other.

Have a lovely week

Debbie xx

In Dublin’s Fair City…. what my Mother taught me about the power of kindness

My Mother died when I was 19, but I’m not sure there has been a day when I haven’t thought about her, “spoken to her”, or missed her terribly. She was a beauty indeed – but in hindsight my abiding memory was of somebody who lit up the world with a childlike Irish charm, a female boldness at odds with the times and my world was filled with magical stories of naughty leprechauns, fairies at the end of the garden and endless tales of the antics of my many many Irish relatives (my Mother being the youngest of 14 children).

Oh the Irish are such wonderful storytellers don’t you think? I’m sure it’s in the DNA – that and a liking for the drink:) Great article on why there are so many Irish writers

In truth my Mother was a complicated character – aren’t we all? And a family motto of “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story” did not, I now believe, serve us well. But there was something deep and beautiful that cursed through the McKay veins – whilst she truly believed that there was nothing she, or any of her children, was incapable of doing, she extended the same belief in all living beings. I have never met anybody with such a complete disregard for status – she truly believed she was no better, or no worse, than any other living being – and that included the menagerie of wounded wild animals that would fill our home.

There’s good in the worst of them, and bad in the best,” Grandma McKay would mutter.

And it is this quality above all others that I feel has held me steady, giving me purpose, a reason to believe through all of my troubles. I think the greatest gift my Mother gave me was the ability to view life with “a light touch” – to never expect the worst or the best but to always try to find the connection. Oh and the humour. That is a must.

I look in the mirror now and I see my Mother within me. I see my daughter too. Maybe some hope for my dear friends just setting off on the path of grief – my experience has been that love does not disappear it just changes shape. I still have a very lively, full-on – painful yes – relationship with both my Mother and my daughter. They are in my veins. The women in my life have always been pretty bonkers, but they’ve also provided me with a blueprint of what real female power/energy looks like – it may be courageous, edgy and difficult but it is also kind, warm and graceful.

I feel my family story has shaped me so much and for that I’m so grateful. As a writer I want to capture it’s essence for the younger members of my family – my daughter, my grand-daughter, my Sarah and all my numerous younger relatives – oh and for any young woman out there who grants me the honour of passing something on. So here goes. :

  • Always give people the space and time to connect to you. A lot of initial bad/unfriendly behaviour is just a front for unhappiness. Look beneath – but if it’s still bad under there run like hell and never go back.
  • Build your tribe of people with gentle hearts and give everything you can to them. Female friendships are one of life’s greatest and richest gifts. I have friends of 25 and 85 – I have childhood friends and women I’ve met this year. Cultivate, grow and love your friends – nothing will compare.
  • NEVER let anybody or anything define who you are. Regret is a terrible thing to live with and horrible to die with. At all times be true to yourself and to your own values and integrity – and defend these with your life. It is this that gives you purpose.
  • Liars don’t heal – I heard this from a well known psychotherapist the other day – and it’s been running through my mind. If you lie, are deliberately cruel to another being – your body knows what you have done. You may try and justify it, but you are poisoning your soul and your whole system. Make amends quickly and vow to respect yourself too much to hurt anybody else.
  • Be humble and don’t feel entitled. I learnt this when my daughter was ill “why me” I’d wail. Why not you? I’d challenge myself. Why ever would I think I was so special that I wouldn’t have total heartbreak. Loss/death are part of life – my huge Irish family knew this well – I’m making peace with this now.

Oh and finally one of my favourite kick arse quotes:

We are the granddaughters of the witches you weren’t able to burn.” ― Tish Thawer,

Mary Mckay, Norma Mckay – I hope you can hear me up there

Have a fabulous week and please keep writing to me – I love hearing from you on here or privately.

Debbie x