How to find joy

  1. Walk with a dog, more people talk to you than if you walk alone
  2. Use the ‘golden hour’ to take a photo and marvel at your skills 
  3. Wake up just to see the sun rise and do step two. You’re allowed to go back to 
  4. Laugh really really hard till it hurts. Friends and YouTube videos help
  5. Make someone cake for no reason and share their joy 
  6. Show a child ‘wonder’ and watch their joy, it’s infectious 
  7. For slow burning joy plant some seeds and feel joyful each time you see them grow a little bigger, and think ‘I made that happen’ 
  8. Light a fire, indoors or out, and spend time roasting parts of your body till they go red. Decide it’s probably bad for you so sit and stare and getting lost in the flames 
  9. Eat cheese and don’t feel bad
  10. Climb as high as you can to get a really good view
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All is full of love…

Sometimes we need to take time to remember “All Is Full Of Love”
You’ll be given love

You’ll be taken care of

You’ll be given love

You have to trust it
Maybe not from the sources

You have poured yours

Maybe not from the directions

You are staring at
Twist your head around

It’s all around you

All is full of love

All around you
All is full of love

You just ain’t receiving

All is full of love

Your phone is off the hook

All is full of love

Your doors are all shut

All is full of love!
All is full of love

All is full of love

All is full of love

All is full of love

All is full of love

How to do a bootfair

I think bootfairs are uniquely British. They’re similar to flea markets but different. Everyone rocks up in their vehicles, puts out a rickety decorating table then flogs their unwanted stuff from their boot (trunk if you’re American).


So I wrote a little guide to bootfairs here:

  1. Clear out all your junk and think it looks like the best stuff ever. Mentally top up in your head the £200 you’re gonna make.
  2. Rope in someone unsuspecting friend, who has never done a bootfair so will be unjaded.
  3. Cram it all into your car with your decorating table and camping chairs. Get your float and price labels ready and feel smug at how organised you are.
  4. Get up at some ungodly hour on the most holy of lie in days, Sunday.
  5. Drive thanking the fact no one else mad enough to be up at this hour because a) you can’t see out any mirrors or windows and b) you can’t move the gear stick without everything falling and crushing your arm.
  6. Get there and feel much better that you’re not the only one insane enough to do this.
  7. Panic pull everything out the car and frantically set it up whilst the bootfair pros pull and poke your old belongings shouting ‘how much, how much’.
  8. Panic more because you left your float at home. Go through every pocket, purse and the  footwells of the car in search of change.
  9. Step back and survey your table and notice how your stuff now looks like the shittest stuff ever and realise you’re probably gonna make a fiver not £200.
  10. As people paw at your old stuff you feel slightly naked and like everyone is judging your life right now.
  11. Get really angry and defensive when someone haggles over your possession that is £6 and they want to pay £5 but you’re not budging. That waffle maker was £30 only 3 months ago (fuck you).
  12. Get bored and take a wander amongst the rows and rows of everyone else’s toot. Aisles of soup bowls and picture frames. Clothes wracks of plus sized sequins and every species of animal made of bone china.
  13. Spend your forgotten float at the burger van to break a twenty you had in your purse and sneakily get more change. Try to get something that costs nothing but that is so suspect it should come with a public warning. Its also probably safe to eat a ‘burger’ as a vegetarian because it’s never even seen a cow. 
  14. Return to someone haggling with your buddy over a 20p item. They want it for 15p and it’s 5 pence you difference you cheapskate.
  15. Have a little rush of sales and feel energised by the fact you’ve got up at 6am, broken your limbs hauling boxes and bags and sat for 5 hours in a field for £20. That’s £4 per hour pay and there’s two of you so it’s £2 per hour, illegal.
  16. Get all energetic and upsell everything to everyone and realise you’re the best market trader in the world. Make another tenner.
  17. Feel hard done by when they collect your £5 pitch fee
  18. Start to lose the will to live and stop chatting to people that come by, play on your phone feeling antisocial and refuse eye contact with everyone.
  19. Sink into dispear when you sell the waffle maker for £3 and realise you’re the mug 
  20. Start to panic that you’ll have to take half the shit back home again. 😱
  21. Realise there’s still an hour left and pray for a reason to leave. So you buy another coffee and eat into your £25 profit
  22. Battle with yourself not to buy the kitch picture on the stall opposite because you think will make your house all edgy and arty. You’ll only put it in the next bootfair, not sell it, and be stuck with it for life anyway.
  23. Sell a last few things for 20p because the thought of moving it again makes you feel sick.
  24. Start giving people stuff for free and feel like you’re the nicest person alive.
  25. Get so tired that you can’t cook so get Sunday lunch at a pub with your earnings and feel smug that it was free and oh well you got rid of a quarter of your junk.  

I secretly love a good car boot, if for nothing else the people watching. I also love seeing people’s stuff from their lives. I find them utterly exhausting for minimal return. But I like the idea that things are being reused and recycled, I can’t bear stuff going to the tip. Plus a they’re a great exercise in minimalising and deluttering and being able to afford a lunch out whilst on benefits.

What’s your best boot fair story or bargain?

The Jigsaw

Last night I dreamt of a jigsaw puzzle. It was double sided and so large that it wouldn’t fit the table. I kept trying to find paper or card for it to rest on in sections so that they were preserved whilst I focused on another section. Then I found bigger table to move it to but it would fill this one too. It expanded faster than I could manage. 

Everytime I attempted it I couldn’t remember which side I was working on. Then I’d complete a large section and feel good and a sense of achievement. Like a taunt, I could almost glimpse the larger beast. But then I’d realise another section had fallen apart as I neglected it to focus on the current one.

All this was going on whilst others were in and out of the picture. Some people came to help and got sections complete with me. Others came and their insesent chatter and advice hindered the process. All this was trying to be achieved whilst pleasing these people and juggling the pieces. I had to serve dinner, casually chat to people. Even the task of doing something for myself got in the way. I didn’t have time for anything for me and felt isolated and alone. 

I couldn’t tell what the bigger picture was. As I completed small parts people’s faces would appear and sometimes the people around me would know the story behind who they were. This bit I loved and it kept me going.

I got to the point where the jigsaw was so frustrating that it was easier to give up and live in the moment. To ignore it in favour of activities that I could enjoy that made me feel hapoy. But then it became the huge unfinished project. The big box of broken pieces and failure hidden under the table, threatening to explode from its box as it grew.

This morning I googled jigsaws in dreams and found they symbolise the different aspects of our life coming together. That you should take a closer look to see if all the parts actually fit and come together in the right places. Do they all belong?

This couldn’t be more apt as this week I’ve shredded my life once again and asked so many questions. Do I live in the moment because it’s easier and there’s less disappointment? Do I plan for the future, because everytime I do chance and disaster dictate anyway. Am I a hedonist who is so fearful of failure and pain I miss the bigger picture? 

I’m not sure I’m doing any of this right, and it all feels out of  control. Apparently life is exciting like a puzzle, because we don’t know what it looks like in its entirety. I just feel a little lost and would like a peek at the box lid please? Otherwise how do I know if all the pieces belong and whether I like the picture at all? 

Narrow Margins

I can’t ever get this song out of my head. The words, oh the words, they say my all thoughts. The melody gets me in the pit everytime.

“Narrow Margins”
I can’t live this way

Breaking all my rules again

Choking on my gin

You push ’til I give in

‘Til the loser always wins
Somehow with his beckoning

Bruising with his threads

Confusing what he says

But I won’t live that way

Though I kind of want to anyway

Kind of want to play

With all the pretty and the pure

Well I return to the earth

I return to the dust

No more beauty by the pound

And this I do not trust
‘Cause nothing forgives

Rules and narrow margins

In our lives

It’s rules and narrow margins

But I will slip by
I can’t find the time

I don’t know the future

I couldn’t bring that past back

I waste what little time I have
But I swear I almost touched it

Yet it slipped between my fingers

Sent shivers down my spine

Cut a splinter in my mind
But it wasn’t nothing, again

These rules and narrow margins

But our life

Is rules and narrow margins

But I will slip by
Rules and narrow margins

Rules and narrow margins

But I will slip by
Half Moon Run

Dear Wolf

It has been a while since we had a little chat. Mostly because I’ve been busy as you know because when I am you sneak in to take a bite or two whilst I’m sleeping.

So it’s been a tough time since not working full-time, trying to manage illness and guilt, both playing off against each other. I have begun to realise that you are a black wolf, the wild cousin of the black dog. You affect me both physically and mentally. We are caught in a perpetual cycle of being ill and tired, or being kind to ourselves then being consumed by guilt for not working or not socialising etc.


My biggest frustration at the moment is when you take up residence inside my head. My head which was once sharp, intelligent, and on the ball. It ran a company, studied and managed large projects. It retained countless random facts and remembered everything. Just lately it’s not even been able to remember simple tasks. 

Most of the time this is amusing, like turning up to appointments a whole day early, despite writing the date out a million times over. Then returning the next day joking how efficient I am. I’ve even tried to lock the front door with the remote for my car and not understood why it wouldn’t work. I laughed at the time I organised an entire road trip to Scotland to visit friends and family. Somehow, despite writing everything down meticulously, I managed to book every visit and every hotel a week behind our actual trip. It was organised chaos on a spectacular level. Luckily, everyone saw the funny side and we managed to find hotels in which to stay. Most things work out eventually so I just laugh it off and rearrange.
Other times though, it is plain humiliating. Like not turning up to a huge schools day on a project I worked on for weeks because my brain just wouldn’t function. I cried when I didn’t see the results and felt like I let everyone down. The amount of tickets booked that have to be cancelled and re-booked because I cant match dates up. Keys permanently left in my front door (yes come rob me) because I forget or get confused. I get to work and they talk about my shift tomorrow and I smile because I had completely not seen that shift on the rota but luckily someone always reminds me (so far). Even as I type this on the train from London to Edinburgh, I redden at the fact the train tickets had to be cancelled and re-booked because, despite checking three times over, I booked entirely the wrong dates and days. Then the ticket collector arrives and I squirm because I cannot find the ticket I was holding just 3 minutes before. It’s humiliating and I can laugh most of the time, but as someone who was so good at life before I feel so stupid now.
The humiliation that has taken me sliding down every rung of the ladder and smashed my face on every step. I still try to see the funny side and always will. 
So Wolf, this week has been one of continuous humiliation, of which I’ll continue my frustrations in my next letter.
At the moment dear Wolfy, I ask that please can you leave my favourite organ – my brain – alone. I’ve always quite liked it and I need it most days…

Learning about Chronic Illness and Autoimmune Disease

About a week ago a book caught my eye: The Autoimmune Wellness Handbook by Mickey Trescott and Angie Alt

For those of you that have been following my journey recently you will know that due to multiple chronic illnesses I have taken a year or so out to live slow and heal. During this time there have been lots of battles in my brain to do with acceptance and grieving for a life lost (My post about diagnosis can be read here). So when I stumbled across the Autoimmune Wellness podcast I was already in. I love a good podcast as they save me when I have painsomnia or on the days I’m too ill to read and sick of screens. In podcast one Mickey and Angie spoke about their own journey and reason behind the book  so I ordered myself a used copy on Amazon. Let my investigation into my body and its quirks begin. I have a very lov/ hate dialogue with my body and chronic illness and for once I feel I may have the space to address this.


To be honest I am a little sceptical. The amount of ‘cures’ thrown at people with Autoimmune and invisible illnesses are huge. Everyone has a method or a miracle cure or the handy advice of ‘exercise more’ or ‘eat better’. What appealed to me here is the fact it’s a DIY guide and not a manual. Not ‘here’s what works’ but a try this journey and see what works for you. Anything I can adapt works for me and they have podcasts and Instagra. Sign me up, I’m a social media sucker!


So the book arrived and it has a pretty cover so I like that ✔️

Then a friendly story about the authors, another  ✔️ for me. 

It explains how it works in simple terms ✔️. 

Then my fave bit, a checklist quiz all about where you are on the spectrum of Autoimmune, I loved this ✔️✔️✔️.


Then I made the big bad mistake of skipping through the book to the section on food. I knew I’d panic when I saw the elimination diet but OMG it’s epic. It literally excludes everything I like. Bad me, I shouldnt have done this but I did. The pleasure of food and eating is one of the things I feel I have left, and the thought of a strict regime makes me panic a little inside. Even if it made my illness manageble I’m so stubborn and I love caffiene, cake and cheese!

 

Even though I don’t think I’ll manage this saintly diet I’m going to stick with the book for now. Those who know me well will know I’m a typical Gemini who follows the next shiny thing so this may be a short lived project. But my intent is to work slowly through the process and get to the diet when I’m ready and less resistent. It’s worth a shot no?

I’ve recently realised that I dont have to be the best at everything, I don’t have to do everything perfectly. I can start things and even if I dont do them to the letter I can extract some good from them. For example I did a smartphone detox a while back and I’m far from saintly, still addicted, but I no longer have notifications on, deleted the Facebook app and am able to  put it down. 3 good things came of that so thats success not failure right?
I’m going to attempt to blog my journey with this tis book so welcome to the adventrue be it long or short…

Shabby Wisteria

Planted with hope and a twenty year wait,

Then pastel and fierce for only a blink of a year.

Beauty that flourishes then sleeps till next

Wise branches that lean with a mutual love.
The season turns loudly to spring

And the soft grand display begins. 

A mask of beauty shouting from the walls,

Glory in which the inhabitants hide behind.
Slowly it climbs and it reaches for sun,

Stealing the light as it casts it’s shade.

Delicate and twisted boughs that some say damage,

Buy look again; they twine not grip, the strength is within.
Notoriously difficult to tame and left

To spread beyond it’s borders.

A fragile dance between conquerer and artist,

This year it could have bloomed better with just a little care.
New people come and go behind its wall.

It’s fragile existence is in their hands,

Each time it drops it’s shabby confetti,

But it promises you to always bloom after the darkest winter.

The snap election that made me snap

On Tuesday I was driving to Bristol to see my sister and her family. On the way down came the news over the radio of a snap election. Oh no, more disappointment and strife. I know that’s dramatic but I’ve been so hopeful in recent elections, and the referendum, to then be squashed and let down. Me stuck in my echo chamber of disbelief that bounces around my nearest and dearest. I didn’t even dare to hope that this may bring a different outcome. I feel defeated, dejected and a little out of fight and it’s not even begun.

But as I listened to Theresa May’s speech about her reasons why she has made an election u-turn I found myself screaming at the radio. It wasn’t anything to do with the fact she’s gone back on her word about the election in general. I get it situations, tactics, and people change.

It wasn’t even the section that declared it was Westminster that was fractured, not the country, that made me snap. I mean that part did make my blood boil. After all it’s your job as a politician to be divided in views and options and to argue and debate these. Oh yeah and the country are clearly are all at odds, hence the split vote of Brexit.

The bit that made me completely snap was this:

“Our opponents believe that because the Government’s majority is so small, our resolve will weaken and that they can force us to change course.

“They are wrong.

“They under-estimate our determination to get the job done and I am not prepared to let them endanger the security of millions of working people across the country.”

Sorry, say what?! She is not prepared to endanger the security of working people?! So what, everyone else can be thrown into the sacrificial fire? Children, young people, students, retired, people with disabilities, unemployed and sick, terminally ill you can be endangered, have your security threatened and suffer to save the ‘working’.

To me a prime minister should be saying  I am not prepared to let them endanger the security of millions of people across the country. Because that is the job of the Prime Minister; to be working for her nation. To serve the people and protect them, a nation as a whole, not just the ones you select.

I am fully aware she may have meant protecting people’s jobs when Brexit happens, but life is more than that. It’s people’s health, wellbeing, education, culture, families, freedom of expression, right to live. Brexit is about more than jobs.

I’m about to reveal a big shocker. Sometimes life isn’t black and white! Sometimes things just go wrong and the person that was working suddenly finds themselves in a different place to where they dreamed. I wonder if you have ever experienced that Teresa?

Please take a moment to step into my shoes. I followed the formula: I went to college then to university. I’ve always worked hard and above and beyond. I worked 50 hour weeks as a student and after I graduated. For years I dreamed of setting up my own arts company and worked in all sorts of jobs to make this happen. I’ve always paid tax and N.I. the whole way.

From 17 years old my mental and physical health began to play up. Despite this I carried on and tried to earn a living but always ended up in the renting and credit/ debt game. When I started to not cope and drown in symptoms these loans and debt and renting weighed me down further. I tried to live within my limits and keep on earning. I tried to reach for help to budget and dug myself out of holes. I never asked for help from anyone and being fiercely proud I did it all myself.

Inevitably when my health worsened I sunk. I blame myself for poor choices and being defiant by working in the arts. I blame myself for running a non for profit company to help others. I blame myself for getting ill and wonder if I just pulled my socks up I’d somehow manage to work.

The final rock in my pocket is your prejudice as a Prime Minister Mrs May. Your promise to protect working people leaves me out cold. It’s another albatross of guilt strung around my neck. It’s the nail in the coffin of my self-worth. I hide inside the house a lot, incase I’m showing I’m enjoying my life for not working. The reality is very different. The other day I visited a garden with a friend. I posted pictures of my adventures. What I chose not to post were the 4 hours I had to sleep to regain a little energy. The 3 days of back pain and mobility issue as payment for walking. The looks you get for not being at work when everyone else is. And most of all the boredom and frustration at not being able to have a choice.

Just before the election announcement I was visited by a Conservative Party campaigner. He arrived at the garden gate and stood for five minutes talking loudly on his mobile. I began to stumble trip down the garden to meet him and waited for him to finish his call. Eventually he did and he was pleasant enough. He asked me if I would vote Conservative in May’s local election. I told him bluntly that I never would. His response was ‘what if I said we would reduce your council tax, then would you vote for us?’ To me this was the catalyst to a rant. I politely explained back that I am currently in a system to which I’ve always paid tax and I’m being humiliated and let down. The lack of social housing means I face eviction, court, homelessness, living in a bed a breakfast and still may not get help. I spend hours filling out forms, exposing my entire soul-destroying medical history to strangers. My voice raised and my lip wobbled as I told him I’m doubted and tested and have to fight every corner to gain pretty much nothing. Funnily enough I don’t think we should be paying less council tax, but more to help and care for everyone’s security.

He looked shocked and said he ‘was sorry’ as he was already backing away. I know I may have fooled him as I’m not your typical ‘benefits scrounger’. I live in the countryside and I’m mostly well presented. I’m well-educated, intelligent and speak with a slightly posh accent. Maybe I was in disguise or maybe, just maybe, there isn’t a typical non worker. He couldn’t have got away from me quicker once I revealed my ‘not working’ card. What he should have done if wanting to talk to people face to face was stayed and listened. He could have reported back the faults in the system and cared enough to make a change to all people, not just those of certain income or social standing.

I get that people out there play the benefits system. I get that there needs to be a level of testing. But this does not mean all people who don’t work do this out of choice. I’d literally give my legs or right arm to be able to work (no pun intended). I would love to see my passion and skills put to good use, but I can’t. This has nearly destroyed me inside without the judgement of others from the outside. Save your council tax bribery and your tiny words of judgement.

Maybe I’m splitting hairs, but that one tiny word ‘working’ made me feel sick. Like I wasn’t worth looking after. Than I am a villain for claiming benefits and it makes me a burden; a cheat, a lower class of person. That cleverly placed word amongst all the others wasn’t a mistake. It was deliberately put there to make people fear and hate those not working.

Make sure when you judge someone for not working you know their story first, or even better? Just don’t judge.

Society

This month has been wobbly. I need to watch my all time favourite film but I’m not entirely sure I’m strong enough today…

Society

Eddie Vedder

Lyrics

It’s a mystery to me

We have a greed

With which we have agreed

You think you have to want

More than you need

Until you have it all you won’t be free

Society, you’re a crazy breed

I hope you’re not lonely without me

When you want more than you have

You think you need

And when you think more than you want

Your thoughts begin to bleed

I think I need to find a bigger place

‘Cause when you have more than you think

You need more space

Society, you’re a crazy breed

I hope you’re not lonely without me

Society, crazy and deep

I hope you’re not lonely without me

There’s those thinking more or less less is more

But if less is more how you’re keeping score?

Means for every point you make

Your level drops

Kinda like it’s starting from the top

You can’t do that

Society, you’re a crazy breed

I hope you’re not lonely without me

Society, crazy and deep

I hope you’re not lonely without me

Society, have mercy on me

I hope you’re not angry if I disagree

Society, crazy and deep

I hope you’re not lonely without m
Here’s a song for you… Society by Eddie Vedderhttps://open.spotify.com/track/4kRGpTEcDdZTAbc645OL2U