Where are the brakes?

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

Where are the brakes?

10pm and the sudden realisation that the day has gone and I almost missed a day of blogging!

Where did the day go?

Where are the weeks going?

Did someone say it was half term this Friday?! I thought I had another week! Eek!!!

Time is just racing by… I am hurtling along in a roller coaster, flying round and round…. Never really slowing as I go through the start gates… or are they the end gates?

Any one else feel like that?

Tom is nearly 8, Willy already 6… if the time continues to speed up like it is currently, accelerating every year to go past faster… will we soon enter Warp Speed? Will I wake up one morning, the boys taller than Daddy, leaving home to go to Uni, live in London?

Tonight I will hold them closer, snuffle their faces for longer, linger longer to hug them while they sleep…

Soon they will have left the house and the noise and the clutter, the grassy boots flung by the door, the left up toilet seats, clothes in heaps, discarded book bags, laughter and giggles, the occasional thud, little elephant feet running along the landing and long, heart felt cuddles, hot cheeks against mine… will all be but a distant memory… and there will be quiet.

And how I will miss them.

Where are the brakes? Can you slow the hours? The minutes?

I am going to take one… and live in the moment and appreciate the delicious, delightful chaos that is my life.

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The art of finding the hyacinth..

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

a weed is just a flower

As I had a quick scroll through facebook posts this morning, and an image with a quote saying ‘A negative mind will never give you a positive life’. And I had to comment… share my thoughts about the concept of ‘Mental Gardening’: a beautiful garden only remains beautiful, if consistently maintained, fertilized, loved and cared for.

Yes, you can blitz it every once in a while, but if you leave it, it will soon become overgrown with weeds and brambles again, strangling the life out of the good plants and flowers. It is an onerous task to dig up and re-plant an entire garden. Therefore, the concept of mental gardening refers to the daily maintenance of your thoughts, the weeds and brambles the negative thoughts, the maintenance being the ‘weeding’ out of thoughts that don’t serve you and the fertilizer the way in which you feed your mind with positive thoughts and feelings.

A comment back made me think this through further and as I walked along the river and through the woods this morning, scenarios played in my head…

There are many types of gardens… and we all have our own personal images of the idyllic garden. For me, my favourite garden is my Godmother’s … a beautiful English country garden, overgrown with roses of every colour, height and smell… a long meandering garden, with hidden corners, trellises, dark and mysterious in some parts and light and warm in others… with the fairies at the end of the garden behind the compost heap.

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I compare this with Mr OCD’s perfect garden: regimented, perfectly straight mown lined lawns, trimmed box hedges, clipped, tall arrow fir trees, mainly green but with a few, simple coloured flowers that would have to be in rows and planted in total symmetry.

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Does this reflect our differing minds and mentalities? My mind overgrown, a tangle of thoughts, feelings, a beautiful, interesting mélange, perfect…   His, structured, neat, perfect….

I can see us both walking in our own gardens at peace… James standing tall, walking proudly, nodding at the perfect lawns, surveying the future clearly laid ahead of him…

And me, smiling, wonderous as I wander along the path, bending under branches of low apple trees, smelling the roses, excited to discover what is beyond the next gate.

My country garden would definitely have weeds, for some are beautiful…. I love daisies, poppies, clover, dandelion puffballs.. the fields and acres of Swiss mountain wildflowers of my childhood… silvery edelweiss, fields of blue gentians and sunshine primulas…

So that begs the question – do weeds provide a purpose too? Are they just as important and nutritious to keep our soil fertile to allow the true flowers and plants to grow?

I look at some of the weeds in my mind – the sad thoughts I have about my Mum… If I was to pull out those weeds, strim them down… would something worse grow in their place? Would they be replaced by more harmful weeds, nettles and the guilt of not caring? For that would surely sting more than reflecting on the sad, pretty cluster of daisies, representing the memories of my pretty Mum.

As we walk along the river bank, there is a large patch of ground covered in brambles, leaves, woodland weeds…. And sprouting in the middle, right in the middle is a beautiful patch of bright pink hyacinths. How perfect. To me this represented a mind that is in despair and it made me think of a few close to me whose mental garden could be reflective of this image. For in amongst every overgrown, strangled, desperately bland garden, there can always be a little patch of beauty… the quest is to find it… and focus on it. Find the joy in that small, pretty flower, fertilise it, water it and watch it grow… for like the hyacinths it will grow and spread and soon become a carpet of beautiful flowers, taking over the painful brambles and nettles.

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Let there be calm…

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

It was my intention this morning to write later tonight… after double date night. A little experiment to see what would happen when I had had a few too many drinks! Would I be able to blog?! Type? What would come out?!!!

However, the house is calm. All is quiet. Only the sounds of the dog licking her legs after her walk and swim in the river.

I am calm.

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I am worried why I feel calm? Shouldn’t I be feeling something else? It feels strange to feel this calm…. I haven’t worn this feeling for a while.

I slept last night. An amazing sleep. Nearly 11 hours. Mr OCD turned into Mr Wonderful… I didn’t really hear him get up… And as I wake up at nearly 10am, I find a cold cup of tea on my bedside table; he had obviously come up and given it to me without me waking hours ago.

The boys are fed, chilled and happy.

I offer to take the boys to football, but Mr W wants to take them… so I have another hour or so of peace. Time to myself… I run. It’s a misty, quiet day and it feels good to get out and raise my heart rate – something I hadn’t been able to do for a few days.

I return to find that Mr W is washing my car! With the help of little Willy on the power spray, Mr W teaches him how to go round the alloys to make sure each bit is perfectly clean (he is still Mr OCD!)…

The boys practice rugby throws and catches (we will win the World Cup when the Mortimer brothers play for England – Tom has already stated that he wants to be the England captain)… while Mr W (with his OCD hat on) clears out the garage and sweeps the yard and I get immense satisfaction from moving my summer wardrobe to the spare room and bring out my favourite autumnal clothes. There is something exciting about doing this exercise! It feels like I get a whole new set of clothes but yet somehow there is comfort in that I know they fit, know they don’t itch… it’s like greeting old friends.

It is quiet now, peaceful; the dog has stopped licking, there is the gentle hum of the fridge and the tapping of my fingers…

Mr W has taken the boys for a swim…. It is inflatable time at the pool.

The cynic in me is questioning why Mr W today? What does he want? The rugby is over… so it can’t be because he wants to go out for beers with the boys?

But the calmness is just so lovely, Snow White is bundling Dobby off and out of the house. I am too calm for that noisy sort of self chatter.

I’ll just let it be that he is Mr W today for no other reason than just that he is….

(And the tipsy blog will have to happen another day!)

The secrets of getting stuff done…

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

Ugh.

If there is any day or any night, that I wish I hadn’t given myself this daily blog challenge for a year… it’s today. I am sure it won’t be the last…. But it is the first.

Weird week…   and I am clearly unsettled as I haven’t really slept for two nights. You know those nights when you lie on your back and you think you are awake.. until something really does wake you up? I have had two of those.

I usually sleep like a dead person. I have been woken up by James before… his panic stricken face, right in my face, nose nearly to nose… as he shakes me violent… ‘Ali! Are you alive?’… well I nearly die from the shock.. but yes – I wake up and say ‘I am alive, but moments from a heart attack!’ ….. I don’t move when I sleep. I know that because while James isn’t here in the week, I wake up in the same position as I fall asleep in, the covers not moved… his side of the bed still made perfectly, throw cushions in tact. If I lie in my favourite position, on my back, hands on my chest… I can see why he would think I am dead. We were clearly made for each other – I sleep like the dead. Only a dead person could sleep through his snoring. The house shakes! Literally…

So yes… today is the day that I really feel like not writing…   However, I am not that kind of person. I don’t like to let myself down.

And it kind of ties in with a question I have had from a few people recently… ‘how do you fit it all in?’.

There really is no secret. I don’t possess magic or a magic wand.

It’s called commitment.

Simply that.

Oh and a few friends called, planning, prioritizing and delegation.

My tools are my lists; they are on note pad (I have 2 usually on the go) and multiple in my iphone list app.

I learnt this through a methodology we applied and had fantastic success with when developing code for the Asda Direct website – an agile methodology. And you work to the principle of the ‘Minimal Viable Product’.   Basically get the minimum done as quickly as you need in the time you need it to be done… work with that until you know you need to add more to it, to improve it. If what you have done isn’t working, you can scrap it without being too hard on yourself for having spent too much time or money on it.

So you have you lists (in agile terms – your backlog of tasks). You then prioritise these tasks, putting the one that will give you your biggest bang for your buck at the top. This could be the job you want to do least, but you know you need to get it done. It is also called ‘eating the frog’ (great book – Brian Tracy). Once you have done it, you free up so much headspace, rather than worrying all day about not getting it done. Everything else after that feels easy! Effortless! And you can check off item by item… and that feels amazing! What a great day!

Then you delegate.

I delegate to myself first and choose the top 6 or so things that need to get done and I plan them through my day – around daily commitments (ie. Kids drop off, eating (need fuel!), kids bed time, pick up, appointments, gym/ spin, walking the dog etc).

I then scan through the list to see who I can ask for help. I am a big believer in asking for help.. especially, if someone is better at something than me – for example, gardening – I am seriously brown fingered and kill everything.

Anything else isn’t a priority, it can stay on the backlog until it becomes a priority or I have lots of time. Like my accounts. Which I am a) rubbish at b) bored by doing c) the more James tells me to do it, the more I dig my heels in… he would be better at doing them than me anyway!

So nearly 20 years of learning in consulting, technology, project management, professional career, now continues to pay off… and I didn’t realize that until now.

In fact, I can’t believe I have just written a blog about agile methodology…   but at least I blogged.

Commitment means staying loyal to what you said you would do, long after the mood you said it in has left you. (Unknown)

Commitment is the glue which bonds you to your goals. (Jill Koenig)

Commitment leads to action;   Action brings your dreams closer. (Marcia Wieder).

Commitment: there is but one degree of commitment: total (Arnie Sherr).

Commitment is what transforms a promise into a reality (Abraham Lincoln).

And my favourite:

Commitment is an act, not a word (Jean-Paul Sartre).

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Just a girl in a pink jumper and the fish necklace…?

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

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I am on the train going home… another Grand Central. This time it is packed! It’s the grand exodus from London to the North…   I wonder if there is anyone else playing the ‘Who are they game?’… I wonder what they would say about me?

Would they guess the truth? Could they guess based on the clues…?

Would they guess a Mum of 2, wife of 1 big Yorkshire lad?

Possibly by the rings on my fingers, (and the bells on my toes!) and the screen saver on my phone…

Would they guess a business owner, passionate about health, wellness?

Possibly by the litre of water, box of almonds and Arbonne literature I am brushing up on in front of me…

Would they guess a coach of other business owners, mentor in schools?

Possibly by the Mosaic book, notes I am scribbling…

Would they guess a daughter, emotional after a fleeting visit to the mental hospital to see her Mum with Alzheimer’s? Emotional from the recognition that the Alzheimer’s, the medication or both is slowing her Mum to a state that she now needs help walking, now only babbles for communication; emotional after not being recognized as the eldest daughter of two; emotional that the holding of her hand wasn’t reciprocated, that she sat on the sofa with her back towards her; emotional at saying goodbye and the sudden multiple, featherlite kisses and clinging cuddle; emotional from looking back and seeing her Mum’s face pressed the window pane…..

Possibly, if they look in to her eyes deep enough…

Would they guess a daughter relieved that the mental hospital wasn’t like the one in Jack Nicholson’s ‘one flew over the cookoo’s nest’; relieved that the nurses are kind, caring, the salt of the earth; relieved that the lump is nothing to worry about; relieved that she is clean, washed and is safe.

Possibly… but that’s a tricky one…

Would they guess a daughter who was shocked at her Dad’s big black eye and droopy blood filled eye bag? A daughter initially shocked, but then delighted to hear that her Dad wants to travel the world, carry on the trips and adventures, find a companion and live again? A daughter who just wants her Dad to live the rest of his life having fun, being a Granddad and doing whatever the hell he likes! A daughter who believes that her Dad is a hero for spending over 8 years caring and living the only life he could while looking after his wife with Alzheimer’s….

Possibly… but I doubt it!

Would they guess a friend who has had a lovely day catching up with friends – fresh juices and future plans; a cheeky bottle of sauvignon on Putney wharf…

Possibly? … and now I am paranoid, is the smell of booze from me?! Or is it the man opposite?!

Would they guess a wife still smiling at the recollection of a dinner ‘a deux’, burgers and beers, snoozing on the sofa in the flat of many memories?

Possibly … as the corners of my mouth turn up as I think of this..

Would they guess a Mummy excited to get home to give her two blond babies death by kisses?

Possibly … my mouth turns up even more!

Or would they just see a girl, a woman… with short brown hair in a pink jumper and fish on the end of her necklace?

How am I?

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

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Following my update a few days ago, many lovely caring friends have been in touch to ask how I am…

This has surprised me in a couple of ways…

Firstly, how many people actually are reading my blog! I actually cannot tell who or how many read it unless they ‘like’ or ‘follow’… I am secretly thrilled at how many people are enjoying it and at the same time, secretly totally freaked out by how many people now know my deepest darkest thoughts! This started as a way for me to get through the sandwich years – both looking after multiple generations but also the transition I am going through from being a solid, successful corporate career person, to professional mum, entrepreneur, coach and mentor… wifely PA! It seems that what I write resonates with a few…

Secondly… I had to ask myself the question ‘how am I’ in order to actually reply to the many questions … some people I have ignored. Which is very rude. But I wasn’t sure how to answer at the time…

So How am I?

I have gone through a list of multiple emotions that I think many expect the response to be:

Sad. Sure. But not overwhelmingly…

Worried. Sure.. but there is nothing I can do about any outcome or the situation…

Emotional. Of course.. but again, not overwhelming.

Helpless… Yes. But only in terms of being able to help my Mum, but again, no point in dwelling on that because the people who can help her are all around her.

So if not the expected answers…

How am I?

As I received another message from a friend today, I was on the treadmill… and the acute feeling I had all of a sudden was gratitude. I felt my shoulders relax and my feet beneath me swing effortlessly as I turned up the pace.

Gratitude…

I am hugely grateful that I can go down and spend time with my Mum and Dad tomorrow. I am hugely grateful for my credit card to pay for train tickets, money in the bank, for friends who are helping me out with looking after both the boys while I am away and ferrying them to and from school and feeding them.

I am hugely grateful that my Mum is in a hospital that still cares enough to do tests to find out what’s going on in her body, her brain and to find the medication that will make her life a little easier. I am hugely grateful that my Dad is still fit and healthy enough to be there to support her.

I am hugely grateful that my sister was there with my Dad when they got the scary report. I am so lucky to have a sister who is so methodical, calm, knowledgeable.

I am hugely grateful that I found a lifeline. For when I connect the dots back in my life… nothing has happened for no reason, in fact, every experience has served a purpose in the journey of my life to date.

I found a lifeline just over two years ago, that brought into my life all the ‘tools’ I needed to get through this period of difficulty, as well as a time last year when it felt like my life had unhinged itself from reality.

I am grateful for the mentors, the coaches, the leaders I have learnt from who have shared their knowledge and experiences and especially the book recommendations on how to grow yourself and therefore myself in to a better, more mindful, calmer, spiritual, abundant and grateful person; someone who can overcome obstacles, tangible, mental or otherwise.

I am grateful for the professionals who have taught me about nutrition, health and the importance of feeding the body and the soul to live out a life of longevity.

I am grateful for the many friends I have in my life that provide a support network – whether it be to have coffee and cake in the coffee shops around York (except we all drink herbal tea and eat seed bars.. honest guv!); friends in whatsapp groups who remind me that ‘Mental Gardening’ is the positive change that will improve the lives of so many; colleagues I work with who encourage and inspire me to continually step out of my comfort zone and grow and learn; honest and close friends who know when it has been time to give me a kick up the backside and get on with my life! I think one even said ‘it’s time to strap on a pair and walk like John Wayne’!!! I am grateful for all friends for whatever part they play – a drink, a laugh, a moan…

I am so grateful that our current weekend family life has taught me that I can let go of my career, the titles, the pay cheques and the biggest wrench of all – my ego. I am grateful that this experience has made me brave enough to start new things, have the courage to learn to mentor and teach, to bare my soul through blogging…

I am grateful that I am now able to connect the dots back and see that everything in the past has happened for a reason, even if it felt like a tragedy, a disaster at the time. Each experience has a part to play in the adventure of life… and it always ends up working out for the best, even if just a lesson to learn.

This is just another life experience and sadly one we will go through with 4 parents, or 4 grandparents to the boys. And there in itself is another gratitude – I am so grateful that our sons have been so lucky to enjoy and benefit from the company and love of 4 amazing people.

As I drive to school, feeling this sense of gratitude, of happiness as I go to pick up the smiliest boy in the world, I am called by a friend of mine’s mother who needs to pay me some money! I haven’t seen her since my school days and we have a lovely catch up. She asks about my children, what my husband does, where I live and finally asks why her daughter owes me money? I explain that I had a wake up call 2 years ago and wanted to spend more time with my family, so I had left a team and career I loved and started a new business in health and wellness and that her daughter had wanted some of my nutritional products, to ensure she gets the right nutrients when she is racing around after everyone else! I explained how this business enabled me to still see my children, but still have a sense of purpose and a challenge.

Her response still gives me goose bumps… and tears in my eyes; ‘Ali! Ten thousand cheers for you! Keep it up! You are doing absolutely the right thing by using your intuition and your initiative… looking after your children yourself is the best job you can do! And if you find something else that fits with it, that is brilliant. Keep it up.’

The tears are in my eyes are of happiness because I know that if my Mum knew what I was doing, those would be her words; she would have been my biggest customer and my biggest champion.

So how am I?

Grateful and happy!

Are you ‘Wendy’ enough?

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

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It’s 5pm… and I have a drink. A stiff one. My favourite cocktail thanks to a fab friend – very kitsch, very 80’s… it’s Cointreau, Lime and soda, lots of ice…. If you haven’t tried it… you seriously should. Long and full of vitamin C… it is definitely medicinal.

It is a Friday so surely allowed? It’s a little earlier than my usual weekend drink… but today I think I deserve it! A hot bus for 4 hours with 45, noisy, squeally, excited 7 year olds… Their excitement infectious, but at points I wish I had ear plugs… It was a school trip to ‘The Deep’ in Hull…. A fab day trip out.

The drink is to try and relax my tense shoulders and neck… I was responsible for 6 children, 5 not my own, in the dark, who ran from one station to the next, muddling and mixing and darting into other pools of similar looking children… running up and down ramps, hiding behind pillars…. I didn’t lose any, I hearded them up multiple times and started to use the phrase ‘Team Mortimer’ and like little homing pigeons, they would come back.

What was interesting and intrigued and totally fascinated me today was how I could recognise many of the children by the traits they share with the parent that I have met. And not just their faces, bone structure, eyes or hair… but the way they spoke, the phrases they used, the mannerisms.   Some parents would be so proud of their children.

It made me consider and reflect on the class discussions I had yesterday with my 15 ten year old girls. From totally different backgrounds, cultures, home lives and support networks from the children today. The topic yesterday, was about role models. What did they understand about the term? Who were their role models?

A role model, ‘a person looked to by others as an example to be imitated’.

We talked through many role models from Zoella (who I had not heard of before I few weeks ago, when my local friends with daughters provided me with some good ideas!), Princes Catherine, Jessica Ennis, Mary Berry, JK Rowling to Malala Yousafzai and many more. We discussed the values, behaviours and attitudes of these women, and men too (David Attenborough, Richard Branson) and put post it notes all over our class Role Model ‘Wendy’…

They wrote: kind, helpful, pretty, happy, strong, healthy, inspirational, passionate, committed, fashionable, smiley, believer, caring, listener, never gives up, motivated, creative, honest, giving, loving, generous and spoke the truth.

Once they knew the definition and characteristics of a role model, we asked who their role models were…   answers were parents, grandparents, social workers, their class mates, their brothers, sisters and celebrities I had never heard the names of but who apparently were brilliant according to them, but whom I have subsequently found out have rather unsavoury sides..

So my question to myself – am I the type of role model that my son’s, my nieces, my goddaughters, these girls I stand in front of should imitate?

If we are present in the lives of others, especially those younger, more vulnerable than us, then we owe it to them to be that role model. Be the good person, the committed person, the optimist, the authentic, compassionate as well as passionate, courageous, abundant role model who speaks the truth, acts with kindess and in servitude.

We owe it to the generations to come to be the best versions of ourselves so that our children duplicate us… because they do you know! When you aren’t there, they speak the words you speak, their bodies mimic the way you stand, gesticulate and hold your head. They copy your confidence, your happiness just as much as your fears and tears…

Our behaviour is a silent signal to those around us… and if you are in a role of responsibility, whether that be parent, leader, CEO, boss, manager, bigger brother, sister, that means you. People do what you do, not what you say and especially so when you are not there…..

So am I Wendy?  Are you Wendy?  Can we ever be Wendy enough?  Does Wendy exist in reality?  Who knows…? but if we each strive to be like her, be a better person, commit to being a little better each week, then the ripple effect would be enormous and the world must surely benefit…

Cheers! My Cointreau is dry and I need another!

Can I or Can’t I?

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

What a whirlwind day!

This morning feels like weeks ago…. So much has happened today.

I have done pilates and a PT (big shout out to Andy www.sweatpersonaltraining.co.uk). Lead a vibrant, fun, interactive class on role models to 15 ten year old girls where they covered ‘Wendy’ in lots of post-it notes of positive behaviours and had lunch with a lovely friend.   Laughed so hard it hurt when Tom decided to go old school and listen to the CD’s and Christmas Crooners came on! We sang ‘Jingle Bells’ and ‘Santa Claus is coming to town’ and loads more all the way home. Took Willy swimming and dropped round samples of amazing new products to all my sporty friends who want to get more out of their workouts. Listened to some fantastic, inspirational people share their top tips for success and researched places to go for our 10 year wedding anniversary. Sat in a coffee shop for 40 minutes and ate a frog.

And then I just signed up for a Triathlon.

Just a sprint.

But it is still a bone fide Tri.

For ages, years in fact, I have watched James and many of our friends enter competitions. I thought it was a post baby phase that everyone was going through. I couldn’t be because they like wearing lycra (or is it?)… or that they like swimming in ponds and eating duck and swan pooh….

I kept telling myself, I can’t do that. I am not like them. Nah – that’s not for me…. I like my quick 30-50 minutes of exercise and it can all be done in just over an hour.

So many people have encouraged me to do one, or go on a big cycle ride with them. So why today?

Why indeed?

Why was it the lovely Pen who just happened to mention it, didn’t even really have to convince me. And I said – ok – I will do it with you. How do I sign up? What do I do? What do I need? Where do I go? Where do I practice? And then it was done.

So I ask myself why?   Why?

I have found myself doing lots of things recently that I have thought for a long time that I couldn’t do. It seems that I have cleared my mind of can’t… and replaced it with ‘can’… or the question ‘how can I?’.

Rather than I can’t leave my profession, the one I have worked at, excelled at and enjoyed for so long…. I now think, how can I use my experience to benefit others? Now I don’t feel like it has been all in vain.

Rather than ‘I can’t start my own business, I have no idea, I have always worked in corporate, I can’t not have a permanent, fixed, guaranteed salary. I can’t take risks.  I can’t teach, coach, be ‘just a mum’..’…. My mind is now always thinking, I can totally achieve success, grow a business, others have done it – I just need to copy the best! Read up on Richard Branson, Bill Gates, Ariana Huffington.. how can I find out what they did? What else can I do, set up, start?  I can be a mum and still do all this stuff!

Rather than ‘I can’t walk the dog, I can’t love the dog’… I thought to myself ‘how can I love Perdi – everyone else does’… so I started to write a blog about her (https://ididntwantadog.wordpress.com/) and I found the funny side… It seems I do love Perdi.

Rather than I can’t get up at 5.30 every morning as Hal Elrod passionately advises us to do in his book ‘The Miracle Morning’, I need my sleep. I need 8 hours. Willy often wakes up… I can’t have a productive day on 5 hours sleep… I looked at myself and asked how can I? What if I just try 6.30am? if I can do that, surely I can do 6.15… and if I do each day a little bit earlier… I get a whole extra hour in my day or even more! Hal says all I have to do is tell myself each night before I go to sleep whatever time it is… ‘I am going to wake up refreshed and raring to go’… And so it seems I can get up at 6… (still working towards the 5.30 but it’s a lot better than 7.30 and the mad rush that follows!)

Rather than ‘I can’t forgive the wrongs, the hurtful words, actions that have impacted me, my self esteem, broken my heart, made me lose faith in friendships, relationships’… I tell myself ‘I can’. I can forgive, forget… I recognise the hurt, I know the scars are there, but that’s ok. I can move on. I am bigger, stronger, better.

So I have cleared my mind of ‘can’t’….

And this Tri thing… why not. I can do a Triathlon… easy.

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I love Mondays!

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

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I love Mondays!

I used to HATE Mondays…

Funny how life changes…

In my Accenture days or freelance consultancy days, Mondays meant reeeeeeealllly early starts… to get to wherever the client site was. My worst trip was the one to work for New Look in Weymouth on the South Coast of the UK, when I lived in South London. It consisted of tubes, buses, a train, a change, and a long meandering drive (beautiful if you weren’t in a rush!), hugely frustrating drive behind tractors or caravans as there were so few overtaking places…in a random hire car. Up at the crack of dawn only to arrive by lunchtime to get some terrible food in a meagre canteen above the ‘shed’ as we would fondly refer to the huge warehouse and distribution centre for this up and coming fast fashion retailer.

It was those Mondays that used to eat in to your Sundays… rather than relaxing on the sofa, holding a roast-full-tummy, snoozing to the Antiques Roadshow, I would be restless, dashing around the house packing a suitcase, searching a laptop bag and paperwork that I may have thrown under a bed in disgust… and where the hell was my ‘on call’ phone?! Ugh – that was another hell… the fear of being called in the middle of the night to log into the computer system and work out why an overnight batch schedule had failed.. Black screens, green letters and blinking cursors – I hope I never see you again…. Cold, panic sweats as I used to fear whatever I did would bring a whole warehouse picking team to a stand still, waiting in a cold Weymouth car park at 4am, shaking their fists at me…. ‘the tech geek’, warm in a pink hotel room, under a duvet, laptop open, hair wild with frustration as I look for a bit of false information that has caused the system crash…

I digress… my old life… one I look back on, fondly, with good memories too of working with brilliant, talented minds, big drinkers… it wasn’t all screen time, only 90% of it. The rest was flaming drambuies, tiger tiger, back slapping….

So to the Mondays of my todays…

Instead of a nervous panic searching for lost items, it is more of a game… getting the boys to get their books together, do they have the right sports kit, enough socks, have they learnt their spellings? If not, they soon will…   I use a timer…How quickly can we do it this week? The quicker they do it, the quicker we can watch a family movie, snuggle up… play a board game (their favourite is Monopoloy James Bond 007 – brilliant if you have boys!).

For me, Sundays are the end of a week and a time for reflection. I look forward to waking up at 6, ready to plan the week ahead, start a fresh; out with the old, in with the new – how can we improve this week? Easy this week for me – last week was a write off! So I am re-arranging my cancelled meetings, back to pilates at 6am, back to healthy eating, back to the gym, spin and I may try something new this week? Hot yoga? What will I share with my class on Thurday – the topic is Role Models – what a great subject to research…  What coaching topic shall I share with my team, my leaders that I build businesses with..?

Who will I meet? What will I learn?

Bring it on Monday!

Blackberry picking

Posted on by Ali Mortimer

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Dobby is blocking my conversations with Snow White today. It’s one of those days… he is on my shoulder, in front of my face, relentless.

I feel guilty for eating a curry, for having cake, my jeans feel tight, I haven’t exercised for a week other than a couple of dog walks… I feel unappreciated as I peel potatos, sweet potatos, apples, carrots and make a gluten free crumble. Everything is winding me up – grass all over the kitchen floor from football boots and Timberlands from double rugby this morning…. I can’t remember any time anyone said thank you or made me feel valued or loved… I am sick of having a cold. Frustrated by inertia.

I am torn.

Torn between letting my emotions out and throwing cushions, having a trantrum or a cry… or just growing up and getting on with it. Jobs to be done, Sunday roast to be cooked, rugby kit to be washed, homework to be done… blackberries to be picked.

I pick blackberries… it makes me a little melancholy as I am reminded of the boxes of blackberries I picked with my Mum this time last year…  I wonder how she is?  Dad took in some shampoo and her favourite tea yesterday, I do hope they have washed her … given her a cup of Earl Grey with lemon.

….

I make a wise decision. I put on my earphones and hit the play button to listen to Oprah.

Wherever I had left off before, started with the right chapter, for sure. She talks about her interviews with men who all had affairs, despite their strong loyal ethics. They all had a common theme – they all wanted to be heard, valued, appreciated, listened to… to feel loved.

Isn’t that what everyone wants? The feeling bit anyway – the feeling of being loved and appreciated…

She makes an interesting point – we shouldn’t wait for others to make us feel this way… We need to feel this for ourselves first…. Value ourselves, love ourselves, appreciate what and who we are first…   For then we aren’t reliant on others to feel good, happy. Look inward and work out what is good about ourselves and our lives… Use gratitude as a way of recognizing how lucky, how brilliant, how wonderful we and are lives are.

How did I forget that today? Since reading The Magic last year, gratitude has played a major part of my daily routine – either in the morning or last thing before I got to bed.

How grateful am I to have gorgeous, healthy sons, a kind and generous husband, a beautiful, warm, spacious Yorkshire stone converted barn to live in with all the mod cons (soooo grateful for my washing machine and tumble dryer – imagine doing all that washing by hand?!). How thankful for a lie in this morning, a hand delivered cup of morning tea, a proud 90 minutes on the sidelines watching the boys play rugby and score tries…more than the England team did last night!. Talking of which, gratitude for good friends as neigbours who bring delicious puddings and beers….

Gratitude for Oprah, for itunes and audiobooks to get me back on the happy path and out of the pity party.

So now it’s back to the aga – my in-laws arrive home in a couple of hours, the pork needs to go in and the topping on the crumble needs spreading…. But first, I think I will gather my family for one of our favourite Sunday past-times – a family cuddle on the sofa!