As I walked through Manchester yesterday I saw this on the wall of a grey tunnel.
I love it for all kinds of reasons.
Firstly someone bothered to write it.
I love the grammar because I’m assuming that means the author is young.
I love the fact someone young expressed themselves so vibrantly.
I even love the fact the person who wrote this has had an experience meaning they know …. the course of true love certainly doesn’t run smooth!!!
In a week where the younger generation have had their voices heard and have provided what I think is a legacy that we can build on for the future. A voice for Decency. Calm. Determination. Truth. Inclusiveness. I’m basically writing a high five to you.
Nobody should be scared to express themselves. It could be telling someone they make you happy or even telling someone they’re not. It could be giving your voice to a cause or writing down in a diary just for you. It could be that you simply smile or say well done. It can be through music or a painting. It could be through tears or laughter. It might be through love.
Whatever way it is.
Happy Sunday xx
I’ve had a beautiful weekend. Sun. Jacuzzi. Love. Dogs. Walks. Fizz.
All the time though Manchester is not far from my heart.
It’s heart breaking to read the devastation of innocent lives.
Almost as difficult is to read the tirade of abuse towards one culture.
What can we do? Words only can seem futile…. yet bombs, knives and guns…… just kill people.
I could go on a political rollercoaster but I won’t.
Laugh at this or call me a do-gooder… we can only judge someone when we know them. We can only be responsible for how we behave. We can choose to be kind. We can decide to bring our kids up to be compassionate. We can be accepting of people who are different. We can change. We can look out for our neighbour. We can smile and say hello to a stranger. We know better than to only look after ourselves. We can stop pointing the finger. We can stop spewing hate. We can be kind. We can.
Hate breeds hate.
Love breeds love.
Too simple yes but it’s the only ammunition I’ve got.
Lots of love on this Sunday xxx
I’ve never really been one to be quiet. As a toddler I’d be organising who sat where at an imaginary tea party and as a teenager I’d march up to anyone who dared to be horrible to my little brother. Teachers included. Mouthy some may have said. Protective and learnt survival tactics l say.
When I took my A levels at 23 and the English literature lecturer asked if anyone would like to read a part… my hand was always first up. The young ones looked at me mostly with amusement and that look of ‘teachers pet’ as I got into the swings and throes of Pride and Prejudice.
This week I’ve noticed that lots of people think but don’t vocalise their thoughts. I was at a meeting where the majority of the room felt it wasn’t productive (ie a complete waste of time) but everyone got up and said thanks.
I said something. I couldn’t bare to see the waste of resources and time and not say anything. I had several emails and conversations with other attendees who were livid, angry, despondent.
Yet they said nothing.
Why is it so hard for so many to put their hand up, to ask a question, to give their opinion. Why do we sit quietly even if we know the answer? Why don’t we risk asking a question even when it’s really important to us?
I think a lot of people are scared, lack confidence or are too self critical to speak up.
Frightened to get the answer wrong.
Isn’t that worse than not saying anything at all?
Happy Sunday everyone xx
I’ve figured out the answer to world peace!!
On Friday night I was invited out to an all women’s ‘disco’. It’s actually called the ‘shit lesbian disco’… which comes apparently from the fact a lot of the those types of events historically have ….. well… been a bit shit!
This one certainly wasn’t.
800 women filled this alternative music bar and it was magical. From the second the friendly organiser ticked our name off her list and we were offered a free shot from a woman with the happiest smile that was impossible not to respond to enthusiastically.
Making my way to the cloak room the line of women did not sit silently. We chatted easily and the woman who took my jacket sat on the floor cross legged as she labelled it for my collection later.
The staff running the bar were oozing energy. There was no frustrations at queuing just an opportunity to dance gently whilst waiting to be served.
And so to the music. Three women. Two laptops. One music deck (no idea if that’s the correct description!). Two of the women alternately chose a track and every time just got it so right as the crowd responded whooping as they danced. Later the tracks stopped and made way to the most amazing wordsmith who’s narrative was mesmerising and it was impossible not to listen to every letter within every word. The band then took their place debuting their new EP filling the room with rap, drums and guitars that compelled the crowd to stay and move their bodies in appreciation. The music then returned and everyone just continued. To dance.
This room was brimming with culture, diversity and more importantly love and acceptance. From the sari wearing DJ to the traditional dress of the wordsmith, to the women in heels and those in trainers. Women with make up and those without. Women in dresses and women in jeans. Black women. Muslim women. White women. Chinese women. Women with red hair and those with pink. Women holding hands and women just there for the music.
And that’s world peace in one room.
Music. Love. Acceptance. Dance.
Happy Sunday everyone x
To all the mums. To you who feels a failure for not making pureed food for your new baby while everyone else seems like super mum. To you who really hates making things out of plasticine but does it anyway. To you who has no mum anymore and misses her desperately. To you who has a mum somewhere but also doesn’t have her in your life. To you the mum who juggles it all. To you the mum who feels guilty no matter how much effort you put in. To you the mum who is stressed. To you the mum who can’t wait for bed time. To you the mum who shouts sometimes. To you the mum who’s protecting their child in the best way they can. To you the mum who has lost. To you the mum that it never happened for. To you the mums that will be. To you the mums that could’ve been, that bravely decided it isn’t for you. To mums of dogs and cats. To mums taking on the job of other mums that couldn’t be. And to you mums who seem to do it so effortlessly!
Mum’s. We’re all different. We’re not a perfect poster image in a magazine. We get 17 minutes to ourselves apparently each day. 17 minutes! The rest of the time we’re devoting to kids, partners, animals, work, cooking, driving, ironing, cleaning, studying, making last minute costumes for school etc etc! .
So I think we all well deserve this one day to celebrate!
To mums everywhere! Have a lovely day xxxx
During a very nice, relaxing Spa day with a beautiful friend on Friday I did a couple of things I haven’t done in ages. I READ at least half a magazine and I had a back massage!! Bliss! I love Psychologies magazine. Expensive but every page is worthy of your time and I get inspired to get on and do at least one thing after I’ve read it.
One article this week made me think about how we are often focussed on what we haven’t done and on what we should be doing next. We don’t stop sometimes and think about all of our accomplishments big or small. I often berate myself for the bigger things like not yet having written *that* book to the smaller things like why I haven’t I replanted that hyacinth yet! Or I’ll be giving myself a hard time for not running even though I’ve walked 4 miles that day.
So thank you to the magazine I’ve been able to concentrate on some things that I’ve accomplished rather than concentrate on everything I haven’t done. I’m not going to list them all because it feels a bit self indulgent but what I do feel proud of is still being able to smile and laugh and love. I drove to work so happy this week and met a colleague where I instantly of course start telling her how guilty I feel for being happy. Slap yourself around the head right now was her helpful advice!! Then she hugged me. One of my biggest accomplishments is finding and living a happy life after losing Tes despite the forever pain. And going forward I look forward to getting some of those things I haven’t done yet but I will really try stop berating myself for sometimes watching two episodes of Game of Thrones rather than painting the front of my house!
It’s great to have ambition and goals but we also need to remember what we’ve done to get where we are now.
Happy Sunday x Dwys x
I was walking up a huge hill this week when my phone rang. Amazing really as phones do not ring in my village, signal is as scarce as someone who will admit to voting for UKIP. Anyway, the phone rang and as I got my breath back and panted terribly rudely down the phone I had a chat with my mate. During the conversation I was asked for my view on ripped jeans. Is it ok to still wear ripped jeans she says? Said friend is 10 years younger than me. Like everything, I gave it a lot of thought and said in my opinion for my age ripped jeans are ok as long as the rip is on the thigh and the rip is quite small, a big no no for me is ripped jeans at the knee. Purely personal of course, I just don’t like my 40yr old plus knees being on show like that!! We had a laugh about it. She said I should write a blog on it!!! I said I can’t do that – I can’t write a blog about ripped jeans?!
But here I am writing a blog about ripped jeans. More than that writing a blog about friendship, ripped jeans and the fact as women we still seem to be considering whether it’s ok to wear something or not?! I was a bit surprised at myself. Even though we joked about it, I realised that I had actually given quite a lot of consideration to the ripped jeans wearing debate much to my friends surprise as I relayed the pros and cons! She later text me to say she’d decided against said jeans, putting it down to an issue with, in her words , ‘fat poking through’.
So why as women are we still wondering if its ok to wear something or not! As International womens day fell this week on the 8th March women should at the very least be comfortable to wear what we like. So I’m going to try to give less attention to my slightly wrinkly knees and more attention to giving confidence to the body those knees belong to!
To finish, during a week to celebrate women I want to thank all of you women and all of you people out there that love and celebrate us women. Thanks for catching up over lunch, a phone call, a message, your hugs, kisses and love. Thanks for being in my life and helping it to be, incredibly, a beautiful place.