X marks the spot

X marks the spot

​I’m 7 years old, on holiday in Newquay, Cornwall. We’re leaning on a wall looking out over one of the lovely sandy beaches as the warm, golden sun sets over the Atlantic. Tummy full of sausage, egg, and chips, I’m a happy girl.

Something catches my eye, bobbing about on the water below. It’s a bottle… and it looks like it has a rolled-up piece of paper in it! My twin sister and I scramble down the steps as fast as our little legs will carry us, closely followed by my Mum and Dad.

We soon establish that it’s a map – of this very beach – with footprints and an ‘X’ to mark the spot in a cave just a short distance from where we are. We go exploring and find a couple of old broken spades and a stick to dig with.

Clunk!

Oh my goodness… what’s that?! We continue digging and scooping in a frenzy of flying sand and there it is: a treasure chest. And it’s heavy.

We prise it open to find it’s full to the brim with coins and colourful jewellery, which to a 7-year-old looks like the crown jewels! Scooping around in the silvery coins, I realise that this could belong to someone. My Mum and Dad always taught me that it’s honest to hand money in to a police station if you find it, so we proceed up to the town to make a call.

Standing at a public call box in the flashing lights and sounds of an amusement arcade, I can hardly breathe, I’m so excited. Very soon, my Dad establishes that it was an old pirate who had hidden it, and since died, so it’s ours to keep. My sister and I jump up and down with joy, and we are ecstatic to have this unexpected delight to treasure forever!

Of course, the map was put there by my Dad, and the call was pretend so they could keep the magic alive for us. And what magic it was, to believe this exotic story of pirates and loot! I imagine there was a mix of horror and pride when I suggested contacting the police 🙂

I have since watched this unfold once again when my Dad did it for my son David when he was little, and I saw the awe and wonder in his eyes as he discovered and dug up the pirate treasure. My Dad even used the same treasure chest, pictured in this post.

Needless to say, there was a note this time saying that anyone who found it, after a certain period of time had passed, could keep it!

Sitting here typing, I have a big lump in my throat and a happy grin on my face connecting with this happy story again, feeling really present with the excitement and gratitude of a very special gesture. And I am going to thank my Dad again when I speak to him this weekend 🙂

What are your special memories which you will treasure forever? What do these mean to you?

Life lessons 25 years on

Life lessons 25 years on

This is me at 23 years old, arriving at Linlithgow Palace to get married. I didn’t know what the future held, other than the fact that Alan was just getting to grips with a diagnosis of MS (Multiple Sclerosis) 3 days earlier. And as his wife-to-be, I had a lot to adjust to as well.

I’ve written and spoken about these experiences many times, and it feels even more significant now, as we are celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. I am finding that it’s a mix of emotions… huge gratitude, happiness, and celebrations for the life we have lived, and some sadness because of how Alan’s health has declined, and how that has affected our lives over time.

I look at this photo of me as a young woman, and I feel proud… having always been a sensitive soul I had no idea what strength I would find within myself. Much of this has come from the love and support of family and friends, and from new friendships formed, especially in recent years as I have followed a fulfilling, enlightening, and unexpected path into deep personal and professional development. I have often found courage and a willingness to be vulnerable and true to myself, and it has been so worth it.

Having been through some of the experiences I have, for as long as I have, when a path unfolds that feels right, I take the next step however daunting it may seem. With a lot of learning, and twists and turns along the way, I now have a whole-hearted approach to life and to the people around me. This means embracing the highs and lows and being present with each experience that comes along, as best I can. This helps me to hold space for my clients too, as I believe there’s a quality of listening that comes from having lived experience and to come through the other side all the stronger for it.

What would I tell my 23-year-old self, based on the life lessons of the past 25 years?

You’re stronger than you think. Being willing to ‘feel the feelings’ and deal with emotions as they come up will help you to live a life of truth and purpose, learning a lot along the way.

You don’t need to have all the answers. Trust that you will handle whatever comes along, even if it’s not clear or easy at first. You will always find a way through.

Trust your instincts and intuition. What you will learn in the years to come will take you on a spiritual path of discovery, and you will become attuned to energy, within and around you, and become much more aware of embodied signals and instincts that will help to guide you in all aspects of life.

You will have the most wonderful, heart-bursting, fun and joyful adventures beyond anything you can imagine, and you will delight in celebrating the everyday moments as well as the big things.

You will love and be loved beyond measure.

You will find your voice to speak from the heart in a way that helps other people to deepen their awareness of what’s important in their lives, by writing (including a book… yes, really!!), giving talks, and sharing the truth of your experiences in-the-moment.

You will have a career beyond anything you expected or wanted for yourself, and you will light the way for others too, by helping them to connect with all they’re capable of.

You will have two amazing kids who are now grown up and tower over you. And they will be the greatest joy of your life.

Here’s to living life to the full, whatever it brings. I’d like to leave you with a quote from Maya Angelou…

“My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humour, and some style.”

This Little Girl is Me

This Little Girl is Me

This little girl is me, age 9, proudly clutching a brand new ‘Boots Minigrip’ camera. It was a Christmas present excitedly bought with a gift token, along with a pack of 10 flashes and some spools, and was the beginning of a lifelong passion for photography… noticing, appreciating, and capturing moments and sharing them with others.

Around the same time, her Gran gave her a Korky the Cat jotter, where she wrote stories for hours on end, with such enthusiasm the pages bulged with inky scrawls, rustling as each leaf turned over. Only recently, this memory returned after publishing her first book, ‘Roots for Growth’, and someone asked: “Did you always want to write a book?” It turned out, she did.

She had no idea then what her future would be like, or how much creativity would play a part in navigating through life. She had a happy, safe childhood with stereotypical daydreams of fairy-tale happy endings, unaware that significant adversity was lurking around the corner… and her husband would have to give up work due to a medical condition in 1997, three days before they got married. They had no idea back then if they would ever have children, and were blessed with two, now young adults and amazing human beings.

When she was growing up, she wanted to be a teacher or a nurse, and later, a graphic designer. The essence of all these roles has come through in writing, doodles, creating visuals, hosting workshops… supporting people to live mindfully, find their resilience and confidence, and understand themselves deeply so they can life life to the full, in alignment with who they are.

She was a sensitive child, not appreciating at that time what a gift her sensitivity could be. Challenging experiences pushed her to develop herself, personally and professionally, and create a path which would fit with her life and how it is evolving over the years… finding courage to take brave steps against the odds, time after time, and never regretting a moment.

This little girl is me.

A story within a story

A story within a story

I love this book. My Grandma gave it to me when I was about 7 years old.

It was awarded to her almost 100 years ago by Newcastle Upon Tyne education committee for her progress at school.

It has illustrations, activities, and stories to guide the reader through the seasons, encouraging us to ‘Look about you’… practicing #mindfulness ahead of its time, perhaps (in pre-war Britain, anyway! )

There’s even a small tea-stain, and I wonder what she was like in that moment… a young girl, leafing through the pages and discovering a world of nature which she’d probably not seen that much of in real life at that time.

My Grandma had an incredible imagination and sense of fun. And she passed it on through the generations of our family.

For me, this book is a story within a story, conveying a period of her life which, now as a woman and a mother myself, begins to come to life again in a different way.

What books are special to you and your family? And what comes to mind about the special people who have dived into the pages?

Write your own story

Write your own story

When I saw this photo, I felt drawn to write something about it. It captures an experience that left my heart bursting with joy, and my face sore from smiling.

Last weekend, my husband’s band played live together for the first time in almost two years. It was a big event with bands, bikes, and a custom show in the North of England. We weren’t even sure it would go ahead because of COVID.

But it did go ahead, and what a weekend we had. The band brought in a horn section with a tenor sax, trombone, and trumpet player to add to their existing 6-piece. What an amazing sound, and it was an incredible, energetic atmosphere as they opened the first night. And, for one song, I was up there with them singing harmonies.

I almost chickened out. We’d talked about me doing it the night before and I hoped a couple of the other girls would get up and sing too. They decided not to, and a wee voice inside me said “it’s too scary, there will be hundreds of people in there”. And then I felt a strong sensation in my gut that said “but you know you want to!”.

I said I might have done it if we’d had the chance to practise, and left it there. Not for long though, as seconds later one of the guys started playing the opening chords of the song on his guitar. So, we were practising – there and then! I knew in that moment it was going to happen.

I realised I’d been letting stories run in my head. If I’d believed them, I would have missed out big time.

Next thing it’s the following night and I hear the opening chords again. I show my backstage pass, run to the steps of the stage, take a deep breath, and go for it. I am greeted by the guys in the band, supportive and encouraging, grinning with thumbs-up. I feel very aware of the bright, colourful spotlights and the crowd filling the huge marquee. Catching my eye in the front row are my sister and daughter and several of our friends, smiling and cheering me on.

It’s a great feeling to be joining in with these talented musicians, picking up on their happy vibe, loving playing together, and it gives me the courage to sing up and enjoy every second. I’m only singing a few lines after all, and I let self-consciousness slip away and give way to connection and flow. I notice everything with heightened senses, hearing each voice and instrument through the monitors, especially the horn section who sound fantastic, seeing the lit-up faces of hundreds of people who have probably not seen and heard live music for a couple of years. What a privilege to be part of it.

At the end, I feel a rush of joy and gratitude for having the opportunity to do this, and I’m greeted by big squeezy hugs and more encouragement from our pals at the bottom of the stage steps.

Life has taught me – and continues to teach me – to do the things I want to do, be in-the-moment, and make things happen, even when the little voices of doubt creep in. I think the trick is to listen, sit with it, and then decide for yourself. Instead of letting the stories run in my head, I wrote my own story that night.

And the spirit of adventure, joy, and laughter carried through the whole weekend. I felt a deep sense of connection and had such uplifting conversations with friends who keep showing up for us again and again. Love and support flowed for both me and my husband as we heard many offers to push his wheelchair, get anything he needed, and help with whatever would help him continue to go to events like this, even though he thought this might be his last.

I’m pretty sure this won’t be the last – that’s just a story that can be rewritten 😉.

If you are curious about the stories we tell ourselves and the impact this can have, you might like to read my book, ‘Roots for Growth’, where I explore the topic extensively.

Photo credit: Maisie Horn