Trying to find some calm in a crazy busy day… If we got all our jobs done for going to Paris early tomorrow, I said to the boys they could choose what they wanted to do.

 

With last minute Paris purchases purchased, bags packed at home, we are in a trampolining frenzy.  It is noisy with music, chatting and screams… but I am calm.

 

I have just been flicking back through a book and my eyes caught sight of the word ‘superhero’… and I am totally attracted to superheroes currently, having moved from Super Woman antics to Wonder Woman posing.

 

“It’s about no longer acting like a victim (letting your circumstances control your life) and instead acting like a superhero (creating a life that has you waking up in giddy disbelief that you get to be you).”

 

I remember reading that a few weeks ago and underlining it… and at the same time wondering what kind of life I want to live… ?  Was I really sure what I wanted?  I read in all the books that you have to get crystal clear on that in order to move forward, to manifest it by putting out the intention that is what you really want.  What you really, really want.  I just wasn’t sure.  My vision board no longer excited me, no longer giddy in the belief that it was going to come true.

 

In the middle of my ‘emotional evac’ from life, I think that was part of the problem.  I didn’t know what I wanted.  But the bigger problem was that I had totally lost sense of my authentic self.  Who was I?  I was so busy trying to work out ‘who I should be’… rather than just being, well… me.

 

I had forgotten who I was because I was trying so hard to be someone I thought everyone else wanted me to be, the person I thought I should be, and wrapping that all up in someone I thought everyone would like … and like a lot.

 

Having had these last 3 weeks out of routine, throwing all the rules and regulations I live my life by out of the window… I am beginning to find me.  The childlike me.  The one who won the awards for always having a big smile on my face, being told off for giggling in the back of the class room.  The ‘content’ me.  The ‘take me as I am’ me.

 

As David Hamilton points out in my latest reading book, ‘The problem arises when you are so afraid of not being liked that you’ll compromise your own authenticity to be accepted…. It’s been said that you shouldn’t try to get others to like you.  If you’re yourself, the right people will come in to your life – people who love the real you’.

 

These last 3 weeks have taught me I am happy just being me.  I have relaxed.  And while I no longer worry so much about what people, friends and loved ones think of me, I have also been far less judgemental of others, expected less from them too.  The two go hand in hand.

 

Freeing myself and my mind has also helped get clarity and while away in Italy and after a few drinks (enough to loosen the shackles of limiting beliefs, enough to allow my imagination the courage to dream), as advised in so many books, I wrote down my life story as if it had happened.

 

Since writing it, I have read it every morning before getting up and every night before going to sleep.

 

I am giddy with disbelief at how exciting my life is!

 

 

 

 

 

I see myself waking up in a light, airy, white room with big open windows.  I am calm and relaxed, loved and in love.  I wake up smiling.

 

I head to our beautiful kitchen, full of light and make a hot drink and sit, meditate for a few minutes and read for 30 minutes.

 

My sons are beautiful and kind and loving and make beautiful laughter in the house.

 

The Big Man is happy and content, heading back from an early morning swim in the pool (the one he dreams about and has designed).

 

I am a successful, best selling author and inspirational speaker globally.

 

I spend my days researching, being with friends, loving my life and living in the open

 

I live a healthy, pure, light life.

 

There is laughter everywhere I go!  I am surrounded by positive people who support and love me.

 

I continue to work with underprivileged children and help so many young lives through giving my time and donating money from my books.

 

I have a thriving business with Arbonne and enjoy the culture, community and helping so many others see this business as a vehicle or a plan B so they too can live the life of their dreams.

 

When I received my first cheque for my book inspired by ‘the ali sandwiches’ at the end of 2016, I treat my family to a trip back to Mauritius.  We swim with the dolphins, stay up late, watch the stars, love and laugh.

 

I give James the entire school fee payments so we can relax financially.

 

And I buy him a boat!!

 

And I buy myself a new dress!!!

 

When I go on book tours, I love meeting up with old friends but I also make sure I am home for every match / event possible and all weekends to be with family.

 

I always love running to Rocky, pumping my arms and carrying a horse above my head.

 

 

 

Last night’s incredibly romantic evening wandering the cobbled alleys of a little clustering around and old fort, drinking wine over looking the lake as the sun went down behind the mountains

… Is a distant, distant memory…
With bags unpacked (ours and the boys), contents washed, a whistle stop tour to buy provisions and t-shirts for Paris and an evening of cooking and Ironning.. There was very little time for romantic whispering or tenderness.
On the plane, I sorted through my photos on my phone… And I keep all sorts of inspirational quotes. So many in fact. It’s almost as if I collect them. And I wondered why? 
As I asked the question and chose a couple of my favourites and then as I opened my book to start reading, I am beginning to realise that Jen Sincero is right… So is Rhonda Byrne… Jack Canfield and so many more.
And to quite Jen, “This. Shit. Works.”
The second paragraph I read said, “I think this is why we all like quotes so much. They remind us of wisdom we know but usually forget in our day-to-day life. Words like these give us hope and remind us of who we want to be and how we want to be.”
The Universe responded.
Ask. Believe. Receive. 
I am always going to love quotes! This one reminds me of our last night in Italy… 

There is often a key event, thought or phrase that triggers my blog every day…. I have learnt that the key is to wait for it rather than force it. Sometimes I worry that it won’t happen… But strangely enough, it always does.
Today’s trigger is a phrase from my book, the one I am reading on my project to improve or bring back my self esteem.
“The brain doesn’t change on it’s own. It’s the things we do that change our brain.”
As james is off exploring, I am lying completely indulgently and haven’t moved off my sun lounger by a gorgeous pool by the side of lake Garda. We decided to head down the mountains and treat ourselves to a shorter journey to the airport in the morning…. I digress.
The chapter and exercises I have been focussing on are the physical practices we can use to change our emotional state – either from calm to stress, from depression to happiness. Some can improve our feelings and attitudes immediately, others take a while to take hold. 
I am relieved to read that i have already been doing many of the suggestions from the book to help me move on from the state of anger, frustration, grief of last month.. 
The mind is first – a powerful tool. Meditation and mindfulness practices being highly recommended to improve the connections in the prefrontal cortex of the brain. This section also helps unravel my confusion around living in the moment as well as releasing suppressed emotion. It seems while there is conflict amongst many which is better, I am reading into this that both are necessary. 
So I have a tick on that front.
Second is changing the chemistry within our brain to create ‘happy chemistry’. Again, I like this book as it offers both sides of the argument – some say drugs can be used to influence the serotonin and happy chemicals in our brain or nutrition can play a part. I have opted for the nutrition – choosing a healthy diet over a prescription, although wouldn’t rule it out if I dive bombed again.
Third on the ‘return to happy’ list is calming our nervous system – breathing, meditation again but also finding a purpose and giving meaning to our life. I feel the work I did on valuing myself as a mother contributes to this, as does completing an exercise I did this weekend. My badass book suggested I write out exactly how I wanted to live, how I wanted my day to be, what I wanted to be doing and giving and feeling… And then to read it multiple times a day and get really excited about it. I do! It makes me smile and feel good! I know my purpose.
So check.
And the fourth item on the list is the missing ingredient. And I feel silly for missing this having read up on it previously and yet excited about the prospect of introducing it. The power pose. The faking it ’til you feel it. The legendary Professor Amy Cuddy who proved the theory and the downright obvious: that the way you hold yourself and your body influences how you feel. It is so obvious, but yet according to the book not many people know that it has been proved – that basically, a happy face produces happy chemistry. Or as she writes in her study the Harvard Power Pose:
“In both human and non-human primates, expansive, open postures reflect high power, whereas contracted, closed postures reflect low power. Not only do these postures reflect power, they also produce it.”
Doing a power pose (think Wonder Woman) for 2 minutes will change the chemistry in your brain and therefore your emotional state to produce confidence, power and higher self esteem.

I am now at the David R. Hamilton PhD ‘self love gym’, and like a real gym I will be attending regularly…. 

 

Move over Super Woman. It’s time to stop saving everyone and save yourself. It’s time to be Wonder Woman and use her abilities of super human strength, durability, longevity and power… .
I have started with the WW pose…. Although to much hilarity, according to the Big Man – I need to work on it .. And look less like a clucking chicken. Or maybe I go with the the lasso of truth and indestructible bracelets … We are going to watch the back catalogue. 

.

 

Pleasure and pain. Just like sweet and sour…. They go together.
The pleasure and peace of being just a couple, to remember to love and cherish each other. The pain of missing and kissing my boys…
The sweetness of a glass of wine, listening to the evening mountain church bells. The sour of the dry northern Italian grape. 
A perfect blend. A perfect day for a christening in the mountains. 

 

I have the most amazing view as I write my blog this evening.  The sun highlighting the valley between two green mountains, red and pink geraniums on the balcony framing the picture.

 

About this time of year, way back in 1999, we had decided that two tickets for the Greyhound bus to see as much of Canada and the USA was far too extortionate for two backpackers on a budget.  So we decided to buy a car! (only a Mortimer could come up with this logic!)  We were over 4 months in to our world trip and had almost 2 to go.  Despite our 10p a night budget in Thailand, the prices had gone up considerably in the first world.

 

So the Big Man was in his element searching for a car.  He loves the search.. the research to be fair.  Finding the best value for money for the job at hand.  We had a big distance to explore, around the Rockies, down to LA to meet my parents and across the middle of America before we flew home to start jobs from Toronto.  While I had my head in a book (paperback – it was pre kindle, pre audiobook), he scoured the local newspapers and magazines (yep – there was no google, no autotrader, no gumtree – barely had email, even hotmail was blue screen only).

 

For the grand total of 3000 Canadian Dollars (about £1000, which was far less than the Greyhound tickets, and gave us way more flexibility – Mortimer fact based logic again), we were the new proud owners of a 1972 convertible Beetle.

 

I am reminded today of this memory as we arrived in Italy and picked up our hire car for the weekend.  The Big Man had chosen a 2016 convertible Beetle.

 

The convertible bit is about the only similarity… other than the shouting at me for the incorrect or late route navigation.

 

The 1972 version was bright orange.  With furry cow hide seats.  (It was super special).  The 2016 version is jet black.  With shiny bits of chrome.  (It is super smart).

 

The 1972 version had no facility to play music, so I balanced a mini disc player (launched just before the ipod, making them wholly redundant), with naff speakers on the dashboard or on my legs.  Or I read Harry Potter out loud.  The 2016 connected via Bluetooth to a wealth of music streamed from any app I chose from my phone, plus gave us directions (wrong ones… but still directions rather than from a paper map).

 

The 1972 version was a rust bucket.  If we had just peeled back the carpet, we would have seen a hole the size of a dinner plate under the accelerator pedal and we would have never sat on the seats… how we didn’t drop out of the bottom of the car, to this day, I never know!  The 2016 version is sleek and pretty much brand new.  It even has air bags, rather than hot air blowing from every rusting hole!

 

In the 1972 version, we drove through incredible landscapes, colossal mountain ranges of British Columbia, past the aquamarine lakes of Alberta… Down the spectacular coastal path of Route 1 (the best bit is not the obvious LA to San Fran), across route 66 with the only tumbleweed to meet us on the road (except in Las Vegas) and finally to Niagara. In the 2016 version, while less dramatic, the sights have been beautiful.  There is nothing more picturesque than Italy, with the stripes of the mountainside terraces and pretty pale yellow houses with orange roofs, nestling together around a tall, proud church steeple.

 

The 1972 version couldn’t go up big hills and broke down in clouds of heat and smoke.  I remember one time vividly sitting at the top of one valley, with baited breath as we revved and then let go to whizz down a hill as fast as possible to get up the side of the other.  Sometimes it didn’t work, and we would drift slowly backwards down the way we came (seriously).  We broke down in some eerie places.  One time outside this big barn shop, with vudu dolls and no one in sight.  Totally freaked out, we free wheeled for a while and ended up totally broken down outside Big Mick’s house…. A giant of a man both in height and girth, tattoos, piercings.  Frightening to look at, but a big softie who fed us melon while he looked for his tow ropes.  The 2016 convertible is pretty nippy, slick round the corners;  the Big Man driving it like a race car, frightening me to death on the hair pin mountain roads.

 

So here we are.  17 years on.   A lovely trip down memory lane, while making new memories with friends in their beautiful mountain side village as we celebrate a new life, a new goddaughter for the Big Man and friendship for life.

 

 

 

 

I am loving the holidays.  There is no rush to get out everyone ready by 7.15am (the official line is 7.25, but if we aim for 7.15, we have time for a Willy tantrum and a Tom wander or Willy wind-up..)

 

This morning, while the Big Man made his omelette, the boys slept in a little, chilled on the sofa… and I blissfully lounged in bed and read my book.

 

It’s a new book.  I love a new book…  the start of a new adventure.

 

This book is one that my friend gave me a while ago.  But I wasn’t ready for it.  But as the saying goes, when the student is ready, the teacher appears.  And I am ready for this book.

 

I used to be confident, self assured.  I felt a little piece of it dwindle away after I went back to work after having Tom. Having been in the top 5% of all my peers through school and then work, after having a child, albeit a brilliant sleeping one, there was something, someone far more important waiting for me at home, than the gym or tv, socialising or working late to prove a point, get a promotion, be the best at work. And I slipped from being in the top 5.

 

A little bit more of that confidence, self belief slipped away after Willy was born.  The non sleeper.  I was the walking dead, a zombie in the office.

 

When I walked away from a new role I ended up loving, but hours that didn’t fit with my family life, I felt even more self worth go drain away.   I saw myself as a failure.  I was a ‘lean in’ failure.  I had let down the entire female race, especially those who were well educated and rising through the ranks of female leadership.

 

And the last 3 years have been trial and error, seeing what worked, what didn’t.  Who I trusted, who I didn’t.  What balance, what priorities…?  And with each change, each redirection, each personal kick in the teeth, stab in the back and then finally with the loss of Mumbo, it felt the last of my self confidence went ‘piff paff …. POOF’!

 

I decided at the beginning of July, that was enough of self pity. I decided that I was going on a journey to rebuild my mindset.

 

I have been reading up on how to restore my inner ‘Badass’…. Now as that book is closed and rehoused on the bookshelf (my badass brewing), and as I read through the introduction of the book, I know I have picked the right one.  “I realised that the root of almost all of my problems in life, especially the issue of confidence, was self-love.”

 

Self love, self worth, confidence.  All starts with mindset.

 

And as it would have it, as I pack my bags, my favourite film is on tv ‘Love Actually’…. And the scene opens with Colin and his best friend, Tony, saying to him…

 

“Colin, you are a lonely, ugly arsehole.  And you must accept it.”

 

To which he replies,  “Never.  I am god of Sex!  I am just on the wrong continent, that is all.”

 

Oh to have the mindset of Colin!

 

It’s time to start reprogramming my mind and drowning out the voice of my own ‘Tony’ AKA Dobby!

 

It’s time to bring my confidence and self work back!

 

 

 

As I sat in the shade and watched the boys play in the sprinkler, shoot each other with water pistols and laugh as they cooled my feet, I was interested to read in a newspaper article that ‘the average length of British marriages that end in divorce is 11 and a half years’.  I found that rather shocking… so I read on!

 

This is the magic number where roles in the relationship have formed into such rigidity that it can cause a complete disconnect.  I know I have often joked with friends about ‘pink jobs’ (usually washing and the kids) and ‘blue jobs’ (cars and bins – always bins).  I can see how some people fall into a trap of dancing around each other in the home… getting jobs done, eating while in front of a screen, falling asleep on the sofa or focussing solely on the happiness of the children.

 

No time for connection.

 

No time for communication.

 

The two things the article goes to great lengths at pointing out are crucial to prolonging a relationship and the partnership of marriage.  The two things that will get you through the rough patches, tough times – through bereavement, redundancies, illness, indiscretions, midlife crises, money problems.

 

My belief and experience is that this is the case, but not necessarily just as simple as a hug for connection or a brief conversation for communication.

 

Connection and communication needs to be compassion, empathy, the ability to speak freely without fear of causing upset or being inconvenient, being listened to and heard.  It is to be able to sit in silence and still communicate through energy, touch, frequency of feeling.

 

As well as the advice from a psychotherapist, there were 2 case studies with their own advice from having over 20 years of marriage.  Simply put, firstly get help when you need it, want to fix it and not to be ashamed about being grown up about the situation, rather than pretending everything is ‘perfect’… and the other, behave as if you have only been dating 6 months or even one month and still trying to do everything to impress and please the other person.

 

Fundamentally, if something is broken and can’t be fixed, it can’t be fixed.  But if you know deep down that it is right, meant to be, then you never give up.  Ever.

 

I also read an article on practices to ward off Alzheimer’s.  Breathing exercises and a way to release stagnant energies and limiting beliefs held in our bodies.  Meditation.

 

It seems I am doing all the right things.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the hottest day of the year and possibly even the decade with late 30’s showing on the temperature scale, we spent 9 hours in the car.

Fortunate that it is a modern car, air conditioned, with radio and auxiliary cable to play multiple Famous Five audiobooks.

Fortunate for my other body parts, as a long with my swollen, blistered lips of yesterday, this morning I woke up with a bright red peeling nose.

Fortunate that we didn’t really meet anyone, other than the very nice man who showed us all the gluten free options in the new Gloucester services and the kind man who pointed out I was parked in a coach bay and about to be charged £100.

Note to self – good work on the positive attitude.  Probably from the line I read in my book this morning that said that a ridiculously high proportion of people who attend seminars, read books, go to classes to improve themselves do very little with the information they learn.  In fact only about 5% do.

I really wanted to class myself in the 5% that do… so I immediately flipped back a few pages and did some of the exercises I had book marked for later and did them.

Having been down in the dumps rather a lot lately, one of my new daily declarations to myself is ‘I am fun and I laugh a lot daily’ (something I have felt that I haven’t been or done in the last few months) and then follow it up with ‘I live with a positive and optimistic attitude’… (again something, that I have felt that has spiralled down into negativity and cynicism lately).

So rather than viewing the 9 hour journey in stinking heat as my worst nightmare, I saw it for what it was and started to play with the parallels of life’s journey.

I set my sat nav to direct me ‘home’.  Just as my book has been advising that I declare my intentions and dreams to the ‘universe’.

I set off with purpose anticipating a nice clear run on the motorway, arriving home in the early afternoon.  Like the book says – expect the best!  Visualise it, believe it to be true.

As with any good journey, there are always hiccups and obstacles and this is where you just have to see them as that and turn them in to positives or learn from the lesson the universe is teaching you:

The sat nav got confused with new road layouts, so I went round in circles a few times around Exeter airport (dropping the Big Man off to fly to a meeting in Scotland).  Just as I had read, sometimes you have to rely on intuition, not just follow the instructions….

The sat nav took me a different route to the one I was expecting, or had even plugged in.  Rather than going  across the Midlands on the M42 to reach the M1 to Leeds as I thought I had instructed, we ended up going M6 to Manchester, and then the M60/62 across to Leeds.   The destination was the same, the end result the same, but the route slightly different… Did I mind?  No… I saw it that the Sat Nav knew better based on traffic or road conditions… I was open to being guided and had faith in the Universe navigating me on the right path, a better path..

The journey took almost twice as long as I was expecting, but the result was the same.  We are all safely at home, everyone happy, tucked up in our beds, the washing machine going 10 to the dozen…Again do I mind?  No!  I actually enjoyed the journey – the boys were really good.  We enjoyed the Famous Five, we enjoyed our picnic lunch… And the added bonus was that I had no time to go to the shop for food, so Granny invited us for a BBQ tea… so I didn’t have to shop or cook!  Bonus!

Does all this positivity, gratitude, trusting in the Universe make me in that top 5%?  only if I apply it daily, consistently, diligently…  and keep on reading, learning… and most importantly, applying.

I woke up this morning and something just didn’t feel right.
I couldn’t quite work it out, until I had to answer the question ‘did you sleep well’… Which I did … But then my lips wouldn’t work! I managed to get some sort of message out to which the answer was ‘yes – your lips are very swollen’ …
So today I have had the most gloriously full lips but had to remain relatively quiet – the only thing soothing them – ice cubes, ice cream, ice cold white wine spritzers.
Ice cubes and ice cream while I watched my two very blond boys play on the beach – admiring their differences as one creatively made sand structures while the other dived in and out, over and under the waves. Both content.
And again later, marvelling their opposing natures again over the ice cold long alcoholic beverage… One of them taking crabbing so seriously, choosing his location, monitoring his bait supply, counting his spoils… As the other ran up and down and round and round jumping off the side of the sailing club, over and over again… Both content. 
And tomorrow we head home… Back to the north. 
And I am partly nervous. This first 10 days of the holidays has been so wonderful… Relaxed. Grief a distant ache.
I need to keep the calm in my heart, the joy in my spirit, the sunny smile on my face… 
I hope I wake up tomorrow and the next day and the day after that and the only thing that doesn’t feel right are my swollen lips and not the hole in my heart. 

Today there was the most amazing sea fret that lingered as we started the day surfing on polzeath beach. 
It wasn’t unpleasant, just cast a dullness over what what we knew to be wonderful bay in the sunshine. It didn’t stop us doing what we came to do…it just didn’t have the extra specialness, sparkliness to it..
As we came up out of the cove and above the cliffs, the bluest of skies greeted us and the warm sun beat the fret away. For the rest of the day, the sea sparkled, we built sandcastles, buried our bodies, ate ice creams, burnt our wintry pale skin to a crisp with big smiles on our faces. 
This evening, in a blink of an eye, as we sped up the estuary, wind in our hair, little did we know that the sea fret had crept up behind us… And as the boat swung round, the squeals of delight fell hush as we saw the mist rolling towards us in the distance. We kept it at bay for a good while, but the only way home was through it.  
The fret reminded me of grief. The ebbs and flows. Never knowing where it might be or when it may appear… In a dip or as you turn round. The fog that dulls all life experiences you know to be glorious… And just as quickly as it descends, you know it will lift… You just carry on without the extra specialness … Until it lifts.
And when it lifts, it feels all the extra special and sparkly.