Gratitude Today

Today I do not feel inspired to write at all. I have flicked through The Writer’s Block and nothing is jumping out at me and I have even delved into the depths of my computer hard drive and opened unfinished pieces of writing from the last 10 years... None of it has piqued my inspiration.

And so today I'm writing a gratitude list. Every book I have ever read about life or how to live it better suggests doing this daily and a grateful heart is a powerful thing, as I previously mentioned in another post for The 100 Day Project.

My Gratitude Today

I am grateful for my parents, who have supported me in everything I have ever wanted to do. Who know when to question me, when to soothe me and when to leave me alone. I am especially grateful for the conversations we have now I am an adult; I cherish those conversations and sometimes feel joy to the point of tears whilst having them.

And my siblings who are the only people that shared my upbringing and who have all taught me different things about being human. My quiet, kind, elder-younger sister, who has the patience of a saint and the stubborn nature of an ass. Who has stood by me and looked after me when I’ve got myself into stupid situations, always willing to help and never needing the limelight.

And my middle younger sister who was born “special” and has taught everyone around her so much. She has made me feel at my most angry and upset and embarrassed and ashamed over the years, but I am grateful for it all. Now she has inspired a novel, the writing of which is taking me on a personal journey.

My little brother is at his best one of the most charismatic people I know. He is brave and thoughtful and brash and funny. We could talk for hours even though sometimes our differences in opinion cause me to have to physically walk away from a conversation.

I am grateful for my peer-group friends, old and newer. Mostly women, but some men who have seen every side of me and loved it. Laughter to the point that I have lost control of my bladder, long conversations, short conversations, introspective conversations, sad conversations. Tears, some that are so good. Soul-buzzing sunny holidays and long car journeys and rainy days in the pub, where I don't stop smiling. Arguments and shouting on occasion which can sometimes feel even better because they make you realise how well you know each other and the sunshine after a storm is even better.  The ones that ask for my advice because they really want it and I give it to them from my heart with no ego involved. I love that they make me feel so comfortable that I do this.

And hundreds of other older friends and family friends and relatives, all who give me something. Many who I could talk to for hours.

I am grateful for books, that I am lucky enough to be able to read them. I am grateful for the things they have taught me and continue to teach me and that they will always be my solace.

I am grateful that I have a body that works and is healthy, even though I don’t think it is perfect. I am also thankful that I have recently discovered yoga, as I believe this has changed my attitude towards my body.

I am grateful for the many places I have visited. For sunshine, for mountains, for green. For the power of natural beauty and the secrets and history of cities. I am grateful for the places I have lived, for London, for Surrey, New York, Hong Kong, Canada and Newcastle. Also for the places I have not yet been which keep me enthralled with the world.

I am grateful for the sensory pleasures in life that I am lucky enough to be able to experience every day. The taste of good food, the warmth of wine, bed, flowers, candles, baths, music... all the music.

I am grateful to all the relationships and lovers I have had, for they have all taught me something, even if it is what I don’t want.

I am grateful to be discovering spirituality and my beliefs.

I am so thankful for my house and my comfortable living situation. I love the beautiful things in it.

I am grateful for theatre and art and all forms of other people’s expressions and observations of the world.

I am grateful that I loved school.

I am grateful that I can choose what to do with my day.

I am grateful that I do not live in an environment of fear or a country where I have no voice.

I am thankful for social media and online communities, because they show me even more of the world and introduce me to wonderfully creative people.

I am grateful that I can write this...

And many more things.

Why I Can't Wait to Be 30

So Lena Dunham is 29 today, which is my age and it made me feel great that she was... and then slightly insecure that she's achieved so much in terms of writing and creating, and I, well, haven't yet...But then I thought about being 29 and what that means, and what it means is that you are 30 next year (Jan for me)... And then I thought about turning 30 and... basically, I'm looking forward to it now.

When I was 25, I had a life-crisis for a week, feeling old and WTF am I doing and thirty is around the corner... and now I've come to terms with it and I am excited to reach the landmark and own it. 

Here's 10 reasons why:

1) People take you more seriously...

I don't think this is just a woman thing... I hope it's not anyway. But when you are in your twenties... a lot of people still look at you and think.. "ahh youth" when you have an opinion or "OK maybe darling" when you make a life decision.

If you went to have an important operation, would you prefer a 28 year-old doctor or a 32 year-old one?

2) I've felt around 30 inside, since I was born.

My mother said I was born 32, that I came out with this wise look in my eyes, forgive a mother;s bias.. it was a compliment. What I remember is my university boyfriend when I asked about the "financial situation" of his best friend at uni who had a gambling issue. "WTF are you talking about..." he said, "Financial situation.". I was confused.  People have always looked at me like I'm a lunatic because I think about things in a way that people a lot older than me would (believe me this is not said in an arrogant way)... I feel at 30, maybe I won't seem like such an old bore anymore.

3) Dating up and down is fine

25 or 35 is OK at 30...

See also, having younger and older friends....

4) I just want to hang out in places where I can have a nice conversation and not SHOUT.

This is an oldie but a goodie. It's true though. WTF the point is in going to see your friends in a bar or club that is so loud that basically you don't hear anything they say all night.

5) Things.... are just not so important

You used to think that things made you feel successful and important. Now you know that actually experiences do... and at 30 it's not too cringe to admit that.

6) I like reading OK... and maybe not just on holiday or the latest "blockbuster".

I mean, I've always liked reading. I read bible sized books at 13 and got teased for it. It's been building up to it for years, but finally at 30, most people embrace the value of books.

7) It's not cool to hate 

Yourself, or people, or things... I feel like being disinterested or dismissive of things is a disease of your twenties.. THANK HELL. I've always loved loving things and experiences and the oncoming milestone of thirty is helping me LOVE myself too. (Yes, I've used that phrase- suck it!!)

8) Decorating and interiors

Do I need to explain this...?

9) Problems are problems

OK, this may seem bitchy of me, but how many times in our twenties are we all ready to deal with a friend's HUMONGOUS  problem before the actual issue is regurgitated to you and you realise it is nothing. As we get older, we realise what is a real issue and worth the attention of that and what is not. I am looking forward to dismissing my minor issues as irrelevant.

10) 29 is just asking for it...

You know what I mean, it is a shifty age is 29, neither here nor there. It's like PMS for 30.

#The100DayProject, Day 7, #100DaysofWriting

Confirmation Bias Against Yourself?

I was reading the other day about a tendency in law, politics and science to "search for, interpret, or recall information in a way that confirms one's beliefs or hypotheses." It is called "Confirmation Bias, or Myside Bias" and it can be very damaging in legal cases and international decisions. Science Daily outlines how "decision makers have been shown to actively seek out and assign more weight to evidence that confirms their hypothesis, and ignore or underweigh evidence that could disconfirm their hypothesis."2

But what if we also do this to ourselves, how damaging can that be? 

I am talking about this in reference to people who are apt to self-criticism, depression, jealousy and insecurity, not to those - who in the opposite way- may seem to have overinflated egos. 

For, if we already walk about this earth with a certain set of beliefs, surely there is a propensity to reconfirm these to ourselves daily, every time something happens or someone speaks to us. And might this mean we become our own jailers.

Green

Sometimes I just crave green you know. The colour of the earth. It is not easy to write about it, because I feel that words can't explain that feeling of peace.

It is not always green, often yellow or purple or pink, the sound of an animal, the sound of the sea, the quiet of the mountains. The smell of soil or salt or wild garlic. 

In the city we can miss it. Mostly we miss it until it creeps up on us; a branch brushing a bus window and then the craving for it tugs us inside and we seek it out...

Today, I sought it.

London, A Love Letter

The thing about London is that she breathes. With each new breath, people are sucked into her feistiness and on the exhale others are cast away. She is highly addictive and beautiful on her good days, when the streets shine with possibility and reward. Pubs and clubs and cafes spilling with her wards, laughing and crying, talking and loving, she makes them feel invincible and alive. On her bad days, she pounds you, throwing into your route every ugly thing you could ever see. There is greyness and sickness and poverty and addiction and sadness and wealth and greed and excess and people, oh so many people, saturated and surly. She offers up to you in her palms every extreme to dine upon. You can have your highest and best times here and other times she squashes you underfoot.

Her different dresses can enthral you for days, you can see the buildings of our ancestors and the graffiti of our children, sit and watch her life blood, the Thames, from a million different angles. She has something for every person you want to be, the artist in North London, the hipster in East. In Soho you sit in the bars on the street, marvelling at the pantomime of life there, in Westminster you breathe in the power on the air. The privileged middle-classes of Fulham and Clapham are life in a sepia tone. 

You can travel the world in a day and hear a thousand different languages on the bus. Eat anything you want at every time of day. 

She's bashful too is London - unlike her American cousin, the wonderful New York - often her treasures are offered to you with a shrug. Yes, I can do that for you... But don't tell everybody now.

The tourists are present in droves, but they just make you feel proud that she is yours, for now.

The view from Waterloo bridge, might be your favourite in the world.

She's your lover, your parent, your cruel boss, your best friend.

Sometimes she hides the stars from you, wanting you to see her, only.

Sirens are her soundtrack, with bars of aeroplanes, occasional dogs and indiscriminate music pouring from every corner.

Even the rats love her most of all. For now she is yours and you hold her to your breast, you put up with the mood swings, the tantrums, the tears. For when she laughs, it is the best sound you have ever heard.