Families

Ever thought about how we never grow up in the presence our family? Put me in the same room as my brother and sister and I become a twelve year old masquerading as an adult. We use the same jokes, rip plasters off the same wounds and ultimately argue over who was the more favoured. Family ties root us to the same spot, forever young, forever living in the past-present. 

Everyone grows up damaged in some way or other, adult life is about masking that as best you can. But when family members are around, especially in groups of three or more the years fall away and all the dents, chips, and sores are revealed. I read somewhere recently that we never truly grow up till we lose a parent, I think that must be true. As long as they are alive we can act like their children, its what we are programmed to do. I think the hardest lessons in life are those we learn as adults, our brains less programmed to change, resist on every level, our hearts tender from old wounds take longer to heal.

Halfway up the hill: Blog Break

Halfway up the hill: Blog Break

Blog Break

It's been two months since I have updated my blog! Its not that I haven't thought about it, I have, honest. But the longer it went the harder it was to go back - bit like a break up I suppose. I started to get intimidated by all the other fabulous blogs out there and tried to make mine a bit more whizz bang too. But being no technical genius I just ended up getting frustrated and spending hours fiddling without any results and then feeling guilty because time at my computer is supposed to be time spent on my writing (proper book writing that is not blog writing!) So I am going to keep it simple, just words, little tit bits from my life and maybe a few pictures.

So 2010 here we are; this year I will complete a draft of my book, enter my writing in a competition and be pleased with at least one finished piece of authored work! So here we go, watch my progress and keep your fingers crossed.

A letter to my sixteen year old self

A book of celebrity letters written to themselves as 16yr olds got me thinking...

Dear me,

Don't worry about what others think so much, especially the supposedly 'cool' girls at school. You will find out they are not that cool. Don't worry about what boys think either, they are just as scared as you underneath. It is more important to be loved by your friends and family, they will stick by you for the rest of your life and you will discover that is priceless.  Be true to yourself. Don't be afraid to make mistakes but be brave enough to admit it when you do. Start writing now and believe in your dreams, only you can make them come true. Have confidence in yourself, don't let others put you off by their interpretations of what life is. Practice compassion with yourself and with others, it is a strength not a weakness. Nothing worth doing is ever easy, so if it is hard, it is probably worth it. You are young -  enjoy it, you have a great adventure ahead of you. Do it, take a great big bite, it is there for the taking, no one is going to hand it you on a plate.

Lots of love 33 year old me. x

Neither up nor down!

It is time to come clean. The name for this blog is both metaphorical and physical. You see I actually live half way up a hill. Everyone outside my front window is walking a 45 degree angle - it gives a rather strange and unique perspective on life as I watch them bent over and battling against the wind and gradient or else free-wheeling towards the bottom.  The top of my hill (or any hill) is seen as a destination, an achievement, a place where the view is better, so I started to think that is where I am heading to in life. It's just that I seem to have been stuck around the tricky steep bit right in the middle lately! I am trying to write a book, to write my way out of the darkness and have something I can call my own. I hope it is the one thing that I am good at. I am trying to discover my potential and as Oprah would say 'live my best life'. So you see that is why I often feel just half way up the hill. I keep aiming for the top, for the day when I can stand tall and appreciate the view, whilst still remembering that beauty is all around me now and however good it is to have dreams I must not pursue it at the cost of reality.

Sentimental birthdays

The candles on your cake glowed like three flaming jewels. I looked at them and wondered how you had collected three so quickly. You blew them out with an air of professionalism and showmanship.  I could burst with pride for my growing boy who gets bigger and stronger with each year. I celebrate and cheer talking only of the greatness of the day. But what I really want to do is stop. Freeze frame. Because with each new candle you get further and further away from me.

GHOSTS OF SUMMER PAST

In the summer months we spend much of our time in the north coast of Ireland, enjoying what precious little sunshine we are lucky enough to get. It is nearly time to close up our caravan for another year and pack away the summer memories with the BBQ, the bucket and the spade. The beaches are deserted now, the sea swells in grey mountainous waves, brave walkers are swaddled from head to toe. The landscape feels familiar but different as though the summer might have just been a pleasant dream. In the distance I think I can still hear the screams and laughter of the children on their summer holidays. I see the image of my little man running in the summer sun like a watermark, on my vision.  Memories like footprints in the sand, semi-permanent, each one washing away to allow another to take its place. I want to hold on tight to them, relive them, and keep them in a glass dome so I can shake them into action.  Summer days with my precious little man, I will store them in my chest, snug tight to my heart.