Sirius Black in the fifth instalment of the Harry Potter series says to the young wizard himself – “We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on.  That’s who we really are…”

My ears pricked up to those words as the Big Man lay softly snoring beside me last night.

There must be a theme, as I also started a new audiobook today as I did a school run to a potential new school, to fit with our new life chapter, ‘Light is the new Black” by Rebecca Campbell.

Living in the light or letting the light in…letting your light shine…  The words remind me of another phrase; when something shatters, and you put it back together, it is the light that shines through the cracks that makes it beautiful.

So perhaps I owe life, recent events and current circumstances a nod of thanks.  Our cup or bowl of life was beautiful but perhaps ‘full of shit’, being filled up without me knowing with lies and deceit, evil and unkindness.    She shattered our bowl, perhaps, and more than likely, to break us, shatter us to the point it could never be put back together.  But all she did was supercharge the emptying of all the crap, therefore giving us the opportunity to put it all back together free of darkness.  And it feels that we are putting it back together in the most beautiful way, that embraces the cracks and holes and all the light it allows back in and through us.

The process has been enlightening and illuminated so much.  Particularly the importance of simplicity, the little things and highlighted gratitude, appreciation and truth.

Today, I saw the light in the lined up hanging shirts and stack of t-shirts all neatly pressed, that I once swore I would never do again, but felt gratitude for being able to do today.  It was in the overflowing bin, full of packaging from books sent to me in the post.  It was seeing my white jeans, covered in mud splatter and grass stains as a reminder of the stunning walk in Yorkshire’s fields with a good friend.  It was in the light of the boys’ blond hair and sparkling in their eyes as they told me what they liked and what they didn’t like about the prospective school they visited today.  It was in the pride I felt as the Big Man kept his cool, spoke eloquently in response to finding out we had been brought to a meeting under false pretences, for the forth or fifth time.

Today, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel of this house buying process, one way, or another.

 

This morning Tom leapt from a great distance on to me as I lay in bed, “you promised to take me running this morning, Mummy!  Come on!”

 

His exuberance for life never ceases to amaze me and bring a big smile to my face.

 

I had been lying peacefully in the soft dancing sunlight of an early Sunday morning, allowing myself to mindfully feel my feelings.  I was consciously feeling every little hair on my face move as a solitary tear from each corner of each eye slid down my cheeks to nestle and hang under my cheekbone.  I could feel their silvery-ness and cool iciness as gravity pulled their path downwards, waiting for the others nestled in my lashes to join them.

 

The Big Man had been unable to sleep, creeping downstairs to work on business proposals, preparing sympathetic consultation interviews, make comments on the survey of our dream house … and to read my blog.  He had perched on the side of my bed, sweaty from a run and looked at me with tired, exhausted, tearful eyes.  Sometimes there are no words required between soulmates, just the eyes as windows to a soul that is shared.

 

Tom and I did run.  And Willy came too.  We ran and we ran fast and we sprinted and in between we caught our breath and smiled through our puffing.  The final sprint to home is always the longest, the hardest, when everything hurts.  But it is always the most rewarding, beneficial and exhilarating as you heave to the finish and allow every muscle to relax and sigh with relief.

 

My tears are for him.  For us.  We are so close.  This is our final sprint.

 

And then we can heave and sigh with relief.

I am sat quietly in the conservatory, where it is now cool and quiet, the clear table with just the vase of simple flowers and where it was only a few hours ago, filled with laughter, chatter, platters of wholesome simple delicious food, warm from the sun and bodies littered on ledges, seats and armchairs.

 

We had and have so much to celebrate and be grateful for…. Highlighted by this small gathering of good friends and their families.

 

But this evening, while the sun sets to the sounds of Willy’s overtired wails from the windows above, I feel uneasy, unsettled, restless.  My Big Man, usually the life and soul of a party, exuberant, animated, laughing the loudest, sat opposite me, the length of the table and his eyes were sad, his mind elsewhere, quietly looking into his glass, absent in spirit and often in person, once to be found lying on a bed upstairs with Tom.

 

Faint alarm bells started to ring in my mind.  The sweet cream of the pavlova, curdled sickly on my stomach.

 

Was he wishing he was somewhere else, with someone else?

 

In the quiet spell and lull as everyone has left, I found him sat quietly where I am sat now.  And we speak of our feelings.

 

I stumbled on just the most poignant Ted talk by Brene Brown this week on trust.  Such a big word that I wasn’t able to explain to Tom in the car this week what it meant, perhaps only touching the surface of its depth of meaning.

 

Marbles.  She uses marbles and a jar to explain it.  Trust between people is gained and can be measured by how much they do to fill up their ‘marble jar’ with the seemingly insignificant daily things, the connections and small moments between people to show how much they matter.

 

And she also uses the words by John Gottman, which I paraphrase but says that ‘trust is built in the smallest of ‘sliding door’ moments, where you have an opportunity to build trust or betray it.  Each time you choose not to connect with an opportunity to build trust, is simply betrayal.’ And a definition by Charles Feltman ‘Trust is choosing to make something important to you, vulnerable to the actions of someone else.’

 

I have been suffering trust issues.  With the Big Man is the obvious one – because my heart was important to me, I made it vulnerable to him and his actions broke it.  With myself – because I trusted myself, I trusted my gut and instincts and made them vulnerable to myself and my action was to ignore them.

 

But I also have trust issues with friends, and I have found it very difficult to try and explain to myself and others, why.

 

And this is where I have found the most help; Brene unpacks the components of ‘trust’ and names the different types of marbles that can fill the jar by using the acronym ‘BRAVING’.

 

There are marbles for respecting Boundaries, being Reliable and doing what you said you would do, being Accountable for your actions, mistakes and making amends for them, holding secrets in a Vault that is not meant for the ears of others, having Integrity by living your values, being Non judgemental when people ask something of you and by being Generous in your thoughts of others, always seeing the best first.

 

Using these, I am able to now see why I have lost trust as so many marbles have been tipped out of their jars.

 

And I can see why the Big Man was sad today.  What he did, didn’t make him a bad man, but he is aware and so disappointed in himself that his mistakes made the incredibly full trust jars that everyone held sacred with his name on, suddenly emptied as the marbles all came tumbling out.

 

He has been so strident and determined, consistent and blinkered, wholeheartedly passionate in filling my marble jar again and again so that it will be overflowing, that today was a harsh reminder that there are others who have marble jars to tend to also.

 

And having watched and absorbed this information, I was able to share with him the final words of Brene, that when you have lost trust of yourself, you need to begin to fill up your own marble jar first for you can’t ask others to trust you, if you don’t trust yourself first.

 

Everything is prepped for tomorrow:  a large slug of beef fillet is marinating nicely, the wine is being chilled, the pavlova cake is cooking slowly in the bottom aga, the raw beetroot diced and prepped, gluten free sausages lined up for cremation and there are 3 types of ice cream in the freezer to suit all allergies; fresh towels and clean sheets are ready to greet our friends who are slightly delayed from 2016 to 2034 into York station.

 

So I am prepped.

 

And now I can indulge a few moments in thinking about an exciting meeting I plucked up the courage to have today.  I have lost count of the number of times I had to postpone it, but I felt the Universe had my back, today was the right day.  A morning being kind to myself and allowing my energy to be restored after the last few days, I donned on my new lucky gold converse and Mumbo’s gold fish and went to meet my first publisher.

 

As I drove over, distracting myself by listening to one of my favourite authors of the year – Liz Gilbert – Distracting my mind of the ping pong conversation it was having;  JK Rowling had to speak many publishers over many years before the first year of the Hogwarts story was put to print, Liz Gilbert too…. While the other side kept reminding me time was just an illusion. I could expect it to take a long time, have to speak to countless people before even getting anywhere or anyone to consider my work seriously.  Or I could expect that it take no time at all. 

 

Hope and excitement vs realism and practicality.  In my mind, the choice to look to a future of colour and fun adventure or grey and dull boredom.

 

So I took the middle path and decided to just enjoy the process, just as Mark Manson advised me yesterday.

 

My intention, as I say to myself every day, in fact, one of the many intentions I state each morning is to ‘write my book, be a published author and put the alisandwiches out to the world’, regardless of the outcome, criticism or feedback.

 

And here I am, prepped, with the marinating beef and baking pavlova cakes, trying to work out which few to choose, out of the 623 blogs (excluding this one) to send to him and which ones to do a voice recording of.  It’s a completely unexpected, yet delightfully exhilarating feeling!

 

Tomorrow will be a day of celebration again for the second time this week, and while the intention is to celebrate the Big Man’s 40^th with a few of his oldest friends, it will also be a celebration of dreams being realised; for the Big Man’s dream of being able to celebrate a big birthday with his family and friends, that at one time we all thought wouldn’t be possible;  for us as a family to celebrate the dream house’s last negotiations finally having a line drawn under them;  for me to celebrate having the courage to take the next step in making my dream come true;  and lastly and most importantly,  to celebrate the good news that our beautiful friends have been dreaming of for several years!

 

 

 

Dreams.

 

As I write this, I realise dreams coming true are intentions realised through hard work and dedication over time, being flexible in your thinking and open to opportunities put in your path and a rock solid belief that there is no other outcome.

 

The publisher’s name…  The Fisher King, because Kingfisher was already taken.  And there she is, Mumbo, the Universe, whoever, whatever giving me the biggest sign that I am on the right path for my own dream.

 

 

I bought a new book today – ‘The Subtle art of not giving a fuck’.   It will be a good sun lounger read, but I may have to change the cover in front of the boys….

 

The Author, Mark Manson, gave a brilliant insight and summary in to the key philosophies he shares in the book in an interview with Marie Forleo.

 

And I think I need to learn to ‘not give a fuck’.  I care too much.  Always have done and about too much.  But as one of the points he makes and a well known saying – ‘Man who believes he knows everything in fact knows nothing and learns nothing.’  So this is my new lesson to learn and put into practice.

 

He also threw a brilliant new light on my pursuit of happiness and a return to joy.  He helped me see it from a new perspective, and as I keep reading, that is the foundation of miracles.  The basis of his theory is that happiness isn’t always found in spirituality and joy and love and light… but it comes from the satisfaction and fulfilment from solving problems;  including overcoming anxiety, feelings of guilt and negativity.

 

He says we should not ‘hope for a life without problems, but hope for a life with good problems.’   And I love how he says ‘Problems are the building blocks of a happiness’ and that gives me so much hope.  I have had my fair share of ‘problems’ in the last few years and I am proud of myself for continuing to face them, tackle them head on.  Looking back, each time I do, happiness is found and so as I face my biggest problem to date, I know the happiness waiting will be the most fulfilling and meaningful of all.

 

I find more hope in the way he explains happiness further.  He says it is easy to dream and visualise a future of happiness in what you do and who you are, but to actually achieve it, you have to be willing to go through some element of pain or discomfort to get there.  It goes back to Liz Gilbert’s ‘Shit sandwich’…  putting yourself out there, doing what you love, doing anything radical or bold is always going to attract opposing praise or criticism.  Only you can decide if it is worth it.

 

If I apply that philosophy, I guess I have made the decision that the suffering of having to lean into my discomfort and pain is worth it;  to acknowledge these feelings inflicted on me by years of betrayal by a man I loved so much, I was blind to the truth and recognise the ensuing deep wounds inflicted by a woman scorned, who lost her ‘free’ accommodation and lifestyle, who realised there was no love in a false relationship, a woman who lost her self worth and wanted to make me lose mine and for him to lose his loves and life.

 

This is my ‘shit sandwich’.

 

I can see our happy future, I dream about it and visualise it and I am willing to eat it to get there.  I am willing to do the time and carry out the work that comes with any success and appreciate that this isn’t an overnight lottery win.  Each time I have to replay the story to a friend, each time I see someone for the first time, as I get more confident to be sociable, I feel the pain.  But I do it anyway.

 

The shit sandwich has a crappy after taste.  But the desert is the walking away knowing I survived to tell the tale one more time.  I am the one walking tall.  I am the one coming home to a future with a family and a man I love.  And that takes away all the bad taste, leaving only sweetness.

 

The best advice came at the end of the interview.   ‘Give less of a fuck about fewer things.’ And how do you do that?  By keeping things simple and using Simon Sinek’s advice – ‘start with why?’ Each time you do something or don’t, ask yourself why?  What is your motivation? Check your assumptions.  And soon, the seemingly important becomes the unimportant.

 

Keep life simple.  Focus on the important stuff.  To me that is family.  And from now on, me, my life.  I look back and I was so focussed on helping and rescuing others, I forgot to help myself until in the end, I needed to rescue myself.  And not give a fuck about anyone else.

 

There are times to congratulate oneself… and I am pretty impressed with myself!

 

I am pretty impressed I managed to keep up with the Big Man and match him drink for drink yesterday.  Champagne, cocktails and a wine to match each course in the tasting menu…

 

I am pretty impressed that I wrote my blog before I got in to bed!  Proof that if you do something every day for long enough, it becomes routine and habit, just like cleaning your teeth.

 

I am pretty impressed that I stuck to the plan and went for a beautiful walk around the lakes, despite a tragically bad ‘reaction’ to the alcohol!

 

I am pretty impressed I kept it together in a meeting at school to discuss unpleasant behaviour happening in the changing rooms. This time, I am nipping it in the bud immediately!  No more broken bones or tears at bed time.

 

I am pretty impressed I have managed to eat some food this evening and stayed awake this long.  Comfort food and early to bed!

 

 

 

 

 

There is nothing more to say other than love and laughter for celebration of a big birthday but more so for how much we have accomplished in 6 months… and nearly  20 years.
I just wish I could stop hiccuping … I feel so cheap!!  And it really doesn’t go with my dress … and my grace.
And so we are back  to love and laughter!

At the tender age of 10 I started boarding school and was in a dorm of 5 other girls. My bed was next to our room story teller. She could remember movies and tell them as though the film was right there with us.
I always remember her recounting Ben Hur over several nights but it was Alien that had me awake at night and only several years later when I saw the movie for real (for reel!), that I understood how incredibly accurate and detailed she remembered and told it: the razor teeth in the darkness with a smaller set quick firing through the open mouth….. 
I still get shivers….
And I imagine I will be lying awake again tonight as for the last night of his 30’s, the Big Man took me on a date, steak dinner, ‘Amelie bubbles’ for me and ‘fancy pants’ red for him…. and a movie.

It feels lovely to be writing this at the end of a day when my mind hasn’t been in turmoil, filled with anxiety based negativity.
On one of our now ritual evening walks, the Big Man mentioned that observing as an ‘outsider’ to my emotions and progress, like the waves, ‘I ebb and flow, but always move forward.’
It feels like I have been in a long slow ebb, but i have a strong inner sensation that the tide is turning.  
Yesterday I was done with myself. I was on that turning point and with all the work I have been doing, listening to my compassionate mind-keeper and refocusing my attention to what I love rather than what I fear, I can feel the slow return to flow, light momentum in a positive direction. 
A real ‘super sunday’ returned with sunshine and cricket, ice creams and tennis, Sunday papers and Harry Potter. 
And as the Louise Hay email I received today, with the affirmation, so I feel:
“All is well. Everything will work out for my highest good. From this situation, only good will come. I am Safe.”

With my inner compassion on the way to being restored, I feel that I am now brave enough to return to love.  Inspired by Marrianne Williamson and Gabrielle Bernstein and countless others who believe the same, I repeat as a daily mantra as I clean my teeth, dry my hair or at any point in the day I feel a little nervous,

 

‘I believe in miracles.  I choose love over fear.”

 

Even though I have been affirming it religiously, it hasn’t really been possible as I blocked off my emotions, focussed on my pain and suffering.  And surrounded by uncertainty, so much unknown, endless possibilities and scenarios for the future, I am fearful to the point of inertia.

 

In particular, I am still afraid of taking a bit of the peach, of letting myself fully love.

 

As it tends to do so, these days, as if by magic the right book appears.  And as I was clearing out a few things by my bed, the book ‘May Cause Miracles’ revealed itself to me.  I had picked this book up very early on in my recovery from the bombshell that blew apart my marriage.  The book mark is still there, at the start of week 3.  Maybe I wasn’t ready for the full 6 week course.  Or maybe I just needed the first 2 to guide me at that particular time?

 

But it feels fitting, that now the time is right.  I am asking for a miracle.  To see and feel the shift in perception from fear to love.

 

In 6 weeks we will be in our new home, whether it be the dream house or a temporary one.

 

The time is now.  I am done living in fear.  I want a different life experience from now on.  That is non-negotiable.

 

As I sit and listen to the rhythmic bashing of Tom preparing his new cricket bat for his game on Tuesday, I realise that this book revealed itself to me as the preparation I need and preparation is key for any game, any event of life.

 

In the opening chapter it states that this isn’t about a romantic love, this love refers to an inner energy, an inner power and magnetism that has always been there.  I have 6 weeks to break down the walls and barriers that fear has built up around it; the fear of losing loved ones, the fear of broken hearts, broken bones, broken trust, lost loyalty;  the fear of being left, unloved and alone; the fear of getting it wrong, the fear of getting it right, the fear of being left with nothing, the fear of getting fat or getting too thin, the fear of getting ill, dying and leaving those I love…. The fear.  My fear of so much.

 

6 weeks.  Daily exercises for 6 weeks to get me where I want to be by building my mental muscles, my mental blue print.

 

I want to lose the fear of biting the peach, I want to love and dive in to the peach, enjoy every bite, every drop and not be afraid to do so.

 

As I said, ‘I believe in miracles.’