It seems like every day there is a quote that speaks to me and today it was one from one of the best.  Winston Churchill:  ‘When you are going through hell, keep moving.’

 

Looking back, December was my time in Hell.

 

But I kept moving, just as Churchill advised and so far, January has been far less hellish.  A trip to Africa was more like Heaven…. And now I am somewhere in between.  Perhaps you could say, Normal Life.

 

And as Normal Life resumes with the boys back at school, I am continuing my journey in happiness. And as the Archbishop Tutu explains, happiness is inside, not something that can be found or bought, I looked inside today and asked ‘what makes me happy?’.

 

Obviously my boys, my family… but when they are at school, what do I do that makes me happy, what makes me smile?

 

And quite simply, I realised it was learning stuff, feeling healthy and energised and also being around other people who have the same values and qualities as me, a good love of health and fun and family!

 

So that’s what I did.

I learnt, I filled my mind with new and interesting facts on topics I am passionate about.

I put my health first; I went shopping for good, wholesome food.  And ate it.

I had some fun!  I danced in the kitchen with Tom to silly music.

I planned in lots of time with friends over the course of the next few weeks.

And then I shared everything I had learnt and I felt good.

 

I felt happy!

 

And I realised, the only moments I fell back in to the ‘hell’ space, was when my mind was not being used for the sole purpose of being happy.  And that is when I listened to Winston again… I got out of there and kept moving.

 

 

I don’t know the answer.

I don’t know the answers.

 

But do I need to?  I am open minded enough to following the signs… wherever they appear.

 

From what I read about letting go of outcomes, material belongings, things and focussing on feelings and being. (The Universe has your Back, Gabrielle Bernstein)

 

To the book that lands in my book called ‘Get Happy’.  A sign.  A signpost to follow.

 

From what I read about finding the ultimate source happiness being inside us, regardless of the chaos or suffering around us.  (Archibishop Tutu’s words in the Book of Joy).

 

To walking moments later into the hotel gym to hear M People singing the words ‘You’ve got to search for the hero inside yourself, search for the secrets you hide.’  A sign.  Advice to follow.

 

From what I heard on my audiobook about mind mastery and opposition thinking, proving negative thoughts hold no power if the minute you are aware of them, you replace it with a good one.  For it you let a negative thought in, it grows, expands and takes over.  A sign.  Awareness brought to life.

 

To discussions this evening with our therapist, on how to move forward and how to deal with my ‘triggers’ of bad memories through NLP practices.

 

I don’t know the ultimate answer.

But I can follow the signs to help me towards the answer.

 

Although sometimes they can be conflicting…

 

Within less than a minute, 2 quotes pop up on my pinterest board:

 

‘It’s all about the first person you want to tell good news to.’  The Big Man.  A sign in his favour.

 

And then..

 

‘The saddest end to a relationship is one where you have to break up with somebody when you’re still in love with them.  It sounds bizarre but it happens, because the truth is, as powerful and as thrilling as it may be, being in love doesn’t always mean you’re happy.  You can continue to love someone even after they’ve hurt you, but you know deep inside that it won’t ever be the same again.’  The Big Man.  A sign against our future together.

 

Conflicting signs.  Although perhaps just a sign to remind me, that I don’t need to know the answer yet, as there is no clear one.

 

And in that, there lies the sign, the current answer.  Stay in the moment.

 

Stay on the precarious edge of not looking back for fear of sinking back down in pain to my rocky bottom, at the same time as not looking so far in the future for fear of vertigo and of how much further I need to climb.

 

 

 

I haven’t had one for a long time, but it is an evening when I am faced with a blank sheet and a mind so tired it can’t think.  So basic journaling questions are always a good place to start.   What went well, what am I grateful for and what could I have done to make the day better?

 

What went well is pretty easy; the journey home and how we all managed to get some sleep on the plane home, despite only one ear plug and despite the poor young girl behind me with a sick bug vomiting and retching for the full 12 hours.

 

What am I grateful for is also pretty straight forward; seriously grateful it wasn’t one of us with a stomach bug for starters; a safe flight and especially someone meeting us as we came through the gates and to drive us home, rather than navigating the trains, tubes and taxi’s we took on the way down.  We had been looking for Grandad Brooks but big grins spread across the boys faces as they spotted someone rather taller and younger… and even I felt myself relax, despite myself and my turbulent feelings, to see the Big Man pacing towards us as he scooped us up.  I am grateful for the smooth ride home and grateful my Dad is keeping warm and well rested.

 

What could I have done to make the day better?  Found the other ear plug?

 

Today was a bit of a waiting day. Waiting to fly home… 
I felt a bit like the guy in ‘about a boy’ who carved up his day in 30 minute chunks. Except I did 60-90 minutes. Carting 2 boys and luggage every 30 would have been a stretch too far…!
60 minutes for breakfast, 90 by the pool, 60 minute shopping, 60 minutes lunch, etc… 
I gave us 60 mins to go shopping in the airport (willy is coming home with an entire suitcase of animals and Tom an armful of bracelets) and now 90 minutes for food… however, it has been 45 minutes and we have only just had our order taken!
But it is always the same! When you think you have a long day ahead of you, a long day or a long delay or a long journey, when you finally get to the end of it, it feels like it went so quickly. And so here we are, shovelling down food as our gate is called… and we find ourselves once again, bugging out and plugging in!  
Destination home… and I remember the quote:

 ‘Don’t  cry because it is over, smile because it happened.’ Dr Seuss

I wonder whether you can have a sad happiness?  Or a happy sadness?

 

Today the force of opposing feelings started to put pressure on my emotional dam.    The emotional dam I had created to pen in all the chaos of my mind, inside my heart so that I could take a ‘holiday’ from reality.

 

The first crack burst forth as my friend held me, told me how proud she was of me for coming.  Leaving her and her family who have provided comfort, compassion and safe haven makes me feel so incredibly vulnerable.  If ever there were a couple or family that have known tragedy and over come it, not just once or twice, but multiple times, and able to show empathy, mixed with tenderness, kindness, patience and sensitivity, they are it.

 

So this happy sadness comes from the sweet sweet sorrow of parting company but also from the gratitude for the happiness they have bestowed on and brought out in me and the boys.

 

I held back the sobs I could feel below the surface as the taxi pulled away and as we headed to one of my favourite cities, Cape Town and the waterfront.

 

But in the end, it all became just a little too much to hold in as I retraced the steps I had taken a dozen years previously after becoming newly, ecstatically, romantically engaged to the Big Man.  My wonderful boys, left their bowls of fries and hurried immediately to my side.  ‘Breathe Mummy, in and out,’ says Willy, just as I say to him and Tom stroking my hair, just as I do for him before he wipes away my tears with his serviette.

 

It was only a few moments, but a heartbreaking one.  And enough of one, for a complete stranger to come over and just wrap her arms around me and whisper, “You are not alone.  Support is all around you.  Stay strong.”

 

So again, this happy sadness comes from a devastating sadness that it happened publicly and in front of my boys, for whom I am so steadfastly committed to being brave for.  But also happy and proud of their kind and swift response, and that they also saw how a stranger can provide comfort to those in need of an act of kindness.  A lesson I hope they remember.

 

Tomorrow, we leave the happiness and wonders we found in Cape Town as a family of 3 to return home.  This time the sadness comes from the apprehension of facing the daily choices and decisions ahead of me and yet at the same time, the happiness is derived from a sense of personal pride that I had the courage to make this trip alone, and because I know I can continue to do it again, and again.

 

And that is strangely liberating and once again guiding me towards making my intentions and plans related to feelings rather than outcomes.  So while I may be leaving happiness in South Africa both emotionally and personified, I intend to continue my pursuit of happiness without pause.

 

 

 

 

I have that wonderful tired feeling.  That tired happy feeling.  The wonderful tired happy feeling you have after one of life’s truly memorable days.

 

My ‘Get Happy’ book must be working.  Or maybe Africa is working its magic on me.

 

Today’s task was to write down at the end of the day 3 things that went well and then answer the question for each one ‘why did this good thing happen?’.  So not so dissimilar to my habit of journaling and writing my gratitudes.  But a slight twist.. and according to 2 days ago, being flexible is a great way to lead to change…

 

So…   3 things.  3 good things that happened today at the L’Ormarins Queen’s Plate races today in Cape Town.  “LQP.”

 

Lots of love and laughter.  Why?  Because I let myself relax and allowed myself to enjoy myself.  I gave myself permission to live, laugh, love life rather than be sad and lonely, fearful or angry.  But in all honesty, that is testament to the the wonderful people I am with, who give me the confidence and love that enables me to let my guard down that much.

 

Quids in!  Because I had a little flutter on the ponies, despite not being a gambling or betting person, it would have been rude not to engage in the days events.  I flicked through the programme of 10 races and bet on only 2 horses for a place, which I chose based on their names.  ‘Stream of kindness’, who came pretty much last.. and ‘It’s my turn’ who came 2^nd.  I was up a 100R  (or a fiver!)

 

Picture perfect day.  The setting and the atmosphere was really just beautiful today.  The dress code to attend the races at LQP is strictly blue and white.  So the views from any angle were beautiful as the mix of the crowds, the tents, awnings, flowers and bunting all matched the blue skies of Cape Town with cotton clouds chasing across the mountainous backdrop.

 

LQP.  3 good things.  And now, one ‘last quick peep’ at my sleeping angels and I will be at peace.

 

I remember someone once telling me that as a parent to young, dependent children you may find you don’t get to grieve properly.  At the time Mumbo had recently died and I definitely felt like I was ‘grieving’:  I was sad.  But I didn’t really have any other choice other than to continue with life; if I didn’t, the lives of others would have been severely impacted.

 

It was only 6 months later, I realised I hadn’t grieved at all.  All the suppressed emotions of grief suddenly became too big to ignore and only by removing myself from daily life for 24 hours to a quiet, white hotel room, was I able to allow myself to be aware of the emotions and address them. Only by being alone could I then have the courage and the peace to see them, feel them fully and then let them go thereby, freeing my mind, my body and soul to continue to care for others.

 

Taking myself and the boys to Africa, distancing myself from the daily routines and habits.  But this time it feels the other way round, I have felt free first.  The distance and space has meant I have been fearless and free to be me, to find my joy and sparkle.  And by doing so, I feel it is part of the healing and grieving process for a lost first marriage, a best friend turned stranger and a soul mate unveiled as a deceiver.

 

This is just reality.  Real life.  Out here, I feel I have removed myself from pity and shame and sadness.  Here, the story is just fact and acceptance of facts.  Here, I can detach myself from any outcome, focus on how I feel, want to feel and now I have complete certainty everything will work out ok; either way; any way.

 

And even in paradise, we have to deal with real life and any healing or grieving, fearless living is hit by a pause button, and parental duties are resumed.

 

The quote on my calm app today said,

 

“When we scratch the wound and give into our addictions we do not allow the wound to heal.”

 

Back home, I was addicted to finding out facts, understanding timelines, emotional outburst triggered by parallels… so this spoke to me.  Stop scratching the itch, especially as the wound heals, when the urge is magnified and the addiction escalates.

 

However, in reality it was a sign for something far more simple.

 

At lunchtime, Tom mentioned his hand and wrist hurt and when I looked his hand was more paw-like, swollen, red and hot.  He had failed to tell us he had been bitten the day before and had spent 12 hours scratching it.

 

A trip to a pharmacy for some anti histamine had us directed to the doctor with suspected cellulitis.   3 hours later, the redness and swelling worsening, the diagnosis was confirmed and strong course of antibiotics prescribed and more bandages for Tom, now also known now as ‘hopping lobster’ for his 2 fat hands and burnt back, coupled with a slice out of his foot from an exposed nail!

 

But the little lobster, despite his wounds, continues to have the biggest smile on his face as he continues to throw himself in to life and love it.

 

He is always one of my biggest inspirations and always makes me proud and grateful of my parental duties and so, in the end, I come full circle and they become part of the healing and grieving process itself.

 

 

 

 

Today I felt warmth from the sun and warmth from within.

 

In the middle of a Yorkshire winter, the sun tingling your skin is just bliss. Lying on a steamer, with your bestie, watching your little people play in the pool, on the trampoline just warms the cockles of your heart as they chitter chatter, laugh, splash and play.

 

As I lay there, I realised that these last 2 days have felt like a lifetime away from reality. Maybe it is the warmth of the sun, the warmth of the love of good friends, the warmth of knowing and really understanding that everything will be ok, if I just let go of the outcome and focus on how I want to feel.

 

By consciously choosing how I want to feel and focussing on feeling happy, making the commitment to that goal and then deciding in each moment is helping me rise from the bottom of my rocky sea bed. Rise to be brave enough to dance on the shore, live and breathe, laugh and dance and feel like myself.

 

And by just being here, just me, my boys, I realise that all I need is them, the support of good friends and to let go of outcomes and futures.  That is all I need.

 

The rest is all a choice. And there is no rush.

 

Just be.

 

 

 

 

 

I am sitting in that beautiful soft late afternoon, early evening sunlight looking out over the pool to the mountain view behind.  And I am thinking how relaxed and peaceful I feel.  I could even be brave enough to say that I feel happy.

 

I realise as I type those words, it took me a few moments hesitation to want write them.  Part wondering if it was true.  But partly because of nerves, fear.

 

I am aware that I am frightened to say them for fear of the feeling being snuffed out like a candle flame, just as it did in October.  In that one moment… from joy, peace and happiness to despair, disbelief and devastation.  That fear, the fear of being robbed of happiness has been somewhat paralysing.

 

But yet here I am, with the corners of my mouth turned upwards, feeling happy.

 

How could I not?  It has been a beautiful day here in Cape Town, at the beautiful Llandudno Beach, splashing in the icy Atlantic Ocean, climbing boulders, playing Frisbee , and eating fresh fish sashimi in Hout Bay, bumping in to an old friend from the long distant past of school days and pub nights.

 

There has been no time to think sad or unhappy thoughts or dwell for longer than a split second on ugly memories.

 

In this moment, I am happy here.  I am happy here with my boys, just my boys.  Being looked after and supported by wonderful friends.

 

I am reminded of a quote by my all time hero, wayne dyer along the lines of ‘As you think, so you are.’  
I think I am happy.  So I am.

Day 4 in getting happy says that you can find happiness in discomfort and doing things you aren’t used to… meeting new people, going to new places, etc..  Apparently this forces you to grow, making you the focus of change rather than trying to change things around you.

 

“Nothing builds self esteem and self confidence like accomplishment.”  Thomas Carlyle.

 

I have never been on my own with the boys on holiday.  Ever.  I haven’t been on holiday with out the Big Man. Ever.   I admit I was nervous and more than slightly stressed before I left…

 

But we travelled the full 8445.9 miles and we are all alive, we have all our luggage, we had all the right documentation, we all had food and water.  We just arrived lacking in sleep.

 

But with a greeting as welcoming as we received we found second wind for a few hours crisping ourselves nicely by the pool and a divine vineyard picnic lunch, supping wine watching our little people play.

 

And tomorrow, we are meeting new people on a new beach and I am pretty confident that there will be bags of happy times there too!