Category: Personal

Reflections about my life.

Why we all need beacons by which to steer our course …
```
"... there’s comfort to be found 
in familiarity 
tempting to stay 
closer than you should 
to what you’ve always known 
rather than venture 
beyond ..."
```
At the beginning of our long trip to the Faroe Islands and Iceland, I mentioned to a fellow camper from the UK, that we would be away for 3 months. Her immediate reaction was, “Oh, you’re brave!”. I brushed off her comment as somewhat risk adverse, standing a little taller as I replied that it would be an “adventure”.

My husband and I had discussed the duration of the trip in some detail, opting to go for the maximum period allowed (3 months). This was, in part, to give us time to truly explore without rushing. But, I’ll be honest, it was also to justify to expense of the ferry fare. May as well make the most of it, we thought, as we are highly unlikely to do it again.

I’ve thought often about that fellow camper during our trip: she was onto something! I underestimated just how challenging the trip would be in countless ways. I’ve never travelled for such an extended period before, in a country that feels very different to my own. I’ve found it harder than expected but, equally, the challenges I’ve faced have made me stronger.

In my head I can still see a poster on a wall in my classroom at school, showing a picture of a ship in harbour. The words read, “A ship in harbour is safe, but that’s not what ships were built for”. It inspired me then and still does. If you think about all the things that might go wrong in life, you’d never do anything would you? It’s important to have dreams and to be brave enough to take the first step into the unknown. It can be scary but also exciting. You need to plan to some degree, but be prepared for the unexpected, because things won’t always go your way.

It helps, I think, to have tools at your disposal when things don’t work out as you’d hoped. I’m a big believer in gut instinct. I can’t explain it, but I just know that whenever I’ve failed to listen to my instinct, that’s when things have gone horribly wrong. Instinct, however, can also let you down. I love the lighthouse analogy; we’ve seen a lot of lighthouses in Iceland, enough to stretch my imagination still further. Your instinct might be telling you, this is the way, but then there’s a warning light foretelling danger. What would you do? I’d be risk adverse and navigate away from danger, of course I would.

It’s all about balance at the end of the day. The irony of a lighthouse, is that the beam of light may bring comfort when you feel anxious, but it’s main job is to warn of danger. It’s not always easy to distinguish between the two is it? There’ve been times in my life when I’ve struggled to differentiate between what’s right for me and what isn’t. I’ve felt all at sea, which is the title of this week’s poem.

Some of the challenges we’ve faced in Iceland led us to seriously consider cutting the trip short, but we didn’t. True, I would most likely have felt more secure on familiar ground, but I’m certain I would’ve regretted any decision to give up. This blog will go out on our last full day in Iceland. We’ll be catching the ferry heading back to Denmark, as originally planned, the next day. We stayed the course!

Going back to that schoolroom poster, I wasn’t made to play it safe but to live my life to the full, and that’s what I’m going to do. I want to live brave.

all at sea Download
05/11/2025
How one small thing can prompt big changes …
```
"... when the world feels  
overwhelming 
the news headlines  
robbing the world of joy 
day after endless day 
the only thing  
you can stop is you ..."
```
I spent a day and a half recently on a ferry, which felt like suspended time. You’re forced to slow down and adapt to a new way of being, which is perhaps no bad thing. I tried practising some yoga on the deck, which proved impossible. How foolish of me to imagine that I could counter-balance the shifting sea. Plan B was to simply sit and watch the waves, enjoy the moment and let myself be still. I had nowhere else I needed to be; indeed nowhere else I could be. It was a lesson in letting go of my need to somehow manage every minute of my day.

It’s so easy to be sucked into a way of life that we wouldn’t chose for ourselves if we had the choice. How many of us have pondered how different our lives might have been if it wasn’t for the choices we’d made? Perhaps that’s the thing to focus on: choice. Sometimes we are so far down one path that we think we can’t deviate or turn back, but we can! We may chose not to, but I think we almost always have a choice.

It doesn’t necessarily have to be the big things. I’m not suggesting we all make drastic changes, like quitting jobs, filing for divorce and moving to a commune. Can you imagine the ensuing chaos if we all did that? It’s amazing what a huge difference small changes can make. Just think back to those marginal gains leading to Tour de France wins for the Sky Cycling Team. And let’s not forget Dr Michael Moseley’s attempts to persuade us, as a nation, to do “just one thing” to improve our health.

Who would’ve thought an introduction to weaving would prompt a shift in my perspective? But it did and this poem is the result. Perhaps it was the need to concentrate on doing something physical with my hands. Or maybe it was simply the fact that I was doing something different: I wasn’t looking at my phone; listening to the news; or busy trying to do several things at once. We have a tendency to think that we need to take drastic measures to effect change in our lives. I was speaking to a friend recently who told me that she wants to change her lifestyle. Each morning she feels enthused, only to lose momentum later in the day. I suggested that she make small steps first and follow the rule of three. I love this rule! You focus on just three things over a three month period, rather than try to tackle everything in one go. It feels more manageable somehow.

Trying something new is a great way to re-boot. Sometimes that can be purposeful; other times it is gifted to you by circumstances beyond your control. Like the ferry crossing I mentioned earlier. No matter how much I might’ve wanted to arrive quicker, I simply had to adapt to a slower pace of life for the duration of the crossing. Maybe today is your day to try something new? Perhaps you’ll discover new depths you didn’t know you had! I feel sure that, like the ocean, we all have hidden treasures yet to be discovered.

weaving Download
08/10/2025
When relationships runs their course …
```
"... it’s not easy to let go 
when relationships 
run their course 
memories 
sometimes surface 
rising waves 
lapping your shore ..."
```
I’m an introvert through and through and, in my world, small is beautiful. I don’t have a huge number of friends and never have. I like to keep things simple. I remember people telling me at various stages of my life … school, university, and workplace … “you will make friends here that will stay friends for life”. I came away from each significant milestone with maybe one good friend from that same period. That was enough for me.

That said, I’m fiercely loyal and take my friendships very seriously. I invest a lot of myself in my friends and my girlfriends, in particular, are precious to me.

It’s true though, isn’t it, that some people are in your life, perhaps intensely, for a short period and others for the long haul. It isn’t always easy to see that at the time. At least, I don’t think so.

I’ve met many older women over the years who have taken me under their wing and advised me never to rely on anyone, but to stand on my own two feet. Wise words indeed. But in my mind, they were talking about intimate partners. Surely friendships were different? They are different, but can be equally difficult, if not more so.

I’ve found it harder in many ways to let go of friends than partners. Despite the fact that women have long celebrated their girlfriends, I think we still lack the vocabulary to talk about love and loss in friendship.

There’s always been a part of me yearning for connection with others, despite my leanings towards introspection. I thrived as a manager and leader at work because I loved supporting and mentoring others, but only as long as I could return home every night to recharge my batteries in the quiet of my study.

I’m a contradiction of sorts, I suppose. I want to feel like I belong with others, and yet at the same time, I want to opt out when it suits me. Is that so unusual I wonder? I was deeply hurt on two occasions when close friends chose to walk away from me. One came back to me, for which I was eternally grateful and another tried, but I closed the door on her because it felt like the right thing to do. I’ve felt guilty about that, but I’ve trusted my instinct and stuck with it. I still think it’s the right choice. Equally, I’ve been the one ending friendships, because it felt to me they had run their course.

As I’ve grown older I think back on the advice those amazing women gave me when I was, in truth, incredibly naive and thus vulnerable. In the end, the only person you can truly rely on is yourself. Most of us are blessed to be able to share our lives with people we love, including friends; I know I am, and hope never to take them for granted.

Equally, I hope I stay true to myself, knowing when to steer my own course. See, I told you I was full of contradictions!

Skeins of geese Download
17/09/2025
Vulnerability is a strength not a weakness …
```
"...a stained glass 
is half a thing 
until the light
shines through ..."
```
I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s noticed the massive culture shift in recent decades towards mental health. It’s no longer a taboo subject. In fact, I know a lot of people will say, “it’s all gone too far”, but I disagree.

It’s widely accepted these days that mental health is just as important as physical health. But it wasn’t always that way. I remember how my grandmother’s generation would talk in hushed tones about other women (always women!) who had “trouble with their nerves”. I had no idea what they meant but I just knew, from their whispering, that it was something to hide, and about which never to speak.

I think, as a society, we regarded people with mental health issues as a tribe apart from the rest of us, which is ridiculous. We all have mental health which can fluctuate constantly; all the more reason I think to be aware of it and to tend to it in ourselves and others.

Whilst it has certainly been easier for my generation, some prejudice remains deep rooted. I’ve been told countless times by work colleagues, managers, friends and family members, not to show weakness because others will exploit it. I know they meant well and were undoubtedly looking out for me, but it never felt right.

It’s taken me years to accept myself for who I am, worts and all. I reached a point in life, probably around my 50’s, when something shifted in me. I cared less about what other people thought and more about how I saw myself. Instead of saying and doing what I thought others expected of me, I started to challenge the norm. A lot of the time, I realised that my assumptions were unfounded. People didn’t necessarily have those expectations at all. Now, that was a revelation!

I gained more confidence to just be myself; choosing to embrace my authenticity as a superpower. As I result, I genuinely believe I’ve gained wide respect, but not from everyone. People have told me not to be so honest; called me out for oversharing on social media; sought to rein me in. They said it was from a place of love, but I felt suffocated rather than protected. Perhaps their intention and my response were both valid.

In the last decade, vulnerability has become quite the in-thing. Brené Brown and her now growing catalogue of books has taken the world by storm. Amen to that! But she wasn’t the first by a long stretch. I have long been a fan of Leonard Cohen and it was he, that largely misunderstood genius of a poet, who wrote in his song Ring Those Bells, “there are cracks in everything, that’s how the light gets in”. I love that idea and will take it further … it’s two way. The light shines in and emanates back out to the world. The more we let in, the greater we shine.

Backlight Download
27/08/2025
Why distance gives you perspective …
```
"... it shouldn’t take 
new places 
to bring me 
back to myself 
I shouldn’t always              
be lost 
in order 
to be found ..."
```
By the time you read this, I will be in another country, embarking on a long trip that will take me across the North Sea and the Atlantic in a camper van crammed with provisions from home. I will be excited and full of anticipation for the adventure that awaits. But as I sit here in my study, listening to the dawn chorus, my head is still full of lists of last-minute jobs, whilst internally I try to calm the butterflies in my stomach.

There’s something about the lead up to a holiday that always feels a bit fraught. Packing the camper van invariably takes twice as long as expected and, without fail, something happens that seems to put the whole thing in jeopardy. A family member might fall ill, we discover a mechanical fault or, suddenly, we can’t find the passports.

When it comes to travel, I think folk are in one of two camps: there are those (like me) who start to pack well in advance and those (like you perhaps?) who leave it to the last minute. There’s no right or wrong is there?

I already know that by the time I embark that boat, I’ll be calm, all the panic behind me. I do love to travel! I was 19 when I first travelled abroad and will never forget the smell of Mediterranean air and the rush of heat as I emerged from the plane. I met people on that trip that have remained friends. I saw and experienced things that shaped me as a young woman, helping me navigate life at university and beyond.

Of course, life gets in the way and before you know it, your world becomes a whole lot bigger and more complicated. In a life that is increasingly busy and stressful, holidays become a haven. That has certainly been my experience. Over the years, as I gained more responsibility both personally and professionally, my summer break was extended from two weeks to three. Simply put, it took most of the first week to unwind and relax. Does that sound crazy or, dare I say it, familiar?

When life gets too hectic and you need to slow it down, it helps to travel. Of course, in theory, there’s no reason why you can’t take time out at home. No reason at all right? Except there’s that thing you’ve been meaning to do that, when you stop, you can’t ignore. Is it the garden that needs sorting, or a room you’ve been meaning to decorate? It’s so tempting to fill so-called time off with long-neglected jobs.

But travel is so much more than just a distraction: it’s an opportunity to see life from a different perspective; broaden your horizons; meet new people; spend time enjoying the company of loved ones. And if you’ve been a bit lost, you might just find yourself again; I know I have.

I wrote this poem, not at the beginning of a holiday, but as it was ending. I had spent three amazing weeks in Norway and the poem came to me as I was packing my bag to return home. I’d arrived exhausted, and was returning refreshed. This was my typical pattern, to work like a demon and use a holiday to recover. It’s a strategy many adopt. Just this week, a friend told me that she’s “clinging on at work”, desperate for the break she has booked at the end of the month.

This will be my first overseas trip since retirement in the spring; it doesn’t have to be the remedy that so many other trips have been. I’m excited to explore how it will help shape the next chapter of my life.

I hope you’ve had the opportunity to take a holiday this summer; if not, my wish for you is that you can create some genuine time off for yourself in the midst of what I bet is a busy life.

Remedy Download
20/08/2025