Fairy Dust and Wishes.

We have just started rehearsals at our drama group and this year I am playing the part of the evil fairy in our version of Sleeping Beauty. I am beginning to embrace the opportunity and the challenge of this, after initially being more than a little hesitant to accept the part. Deep down I knew that it was a part that I would love to do but my midlife head was telling me all the reasons why it would be better played by a younger member of the cast. One who might sing better, look better in a fairy costume and remember the lines better - there are a lot to learn and forgetfulness seems to be creeping into my everyday recently. I don’t think a quick wave of my fairy wand will solve that or have the power to slim me down into an acceptable fairy size, so I will just have to resort to taking on the hard work to achieve it all without magic.

My daughter soon turns eighteen which will mean that both of my children are adults. Old enough to face the scary world out there, and at the moment it seems scarier day by day. My job of protecting them from all of that feels now redundant and the fairy dust that I used to sprinkle liberally around the house on birthdays is gone (as truth be told, I was the birthday fairy all along.)

Yet don’t we spend our whole lives as parents wanting to wave a magic wand to keep on protecting our children, and I’m guessing in time, our grandchildren? We have very little power to do so, especially as they have grown up, and we can really only be around for as long as we’re given the privilege of doing so, to advise if they’ll listen but to allow them to make their own way in the world. Be that good or bad, we can but watch sometimes and offer a support when they need it. Letting them go can feel like watching a fledgling trying to take flight, with all the dips and swoops before soaring off into the distance. I can but hope that both of my children will soar, even if the process may take some time to achieve.

Returning to the question of whether I can measure up to the part I have been given, I have repeatedly told myself that I need to tie up all my doubts and leave them at home in a corner, when I go off to rehearse each week and definitely not let them loose during show week. So what of the challenges that I mentioned? Well both seem significant and so I have decided to use that well-spun strategy of breaking down what appears to be a huge task into smaller, hopefully more manageable chunks. I think it is actually good for me to have a personal challenge, both physically and mentally, to keep me moving forward positively.

The ‘fairy size’ question - well, how big is a fairy? Have you ever actually seen one? In reality, I need to fit into a costume. There’s my challenge - I lay down the gauntlet, to feel comfortable in my costume. I am actively looking to up my steps and level of physical activity each day so that I might achieve this in time for show week. Eat less crap, walk faster, start a fitness workout at home (safe from cynical gym eyes) and possibly, if confident enough, go for a swim a few times too.

The mental challenge does worry me, if I’m being totally honest. There are a lot of lines and also song lyrics to learn and some days I can’t even remember why it was that I walked into a room! Anyway, split it into chunks. Sometimes if we have a whole mountain in front of us and we look up at the vastness of it all, it is too difficult to move, too overwhelming. But every journey starts with one step. I have already started learning the lyrics and I will try to practice what I preached during my teaching career - don’t leave it all to the last minute to complete your homework. I shall attempt to spread it out in the hope that a drip-feed approach works.

I could have refused the part and taken a step back but then I know I would have been wondering what if and regretting having done so. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we only really regret the things in life that we didn’t do. Even though challenges may feel difficult at the time, perseverance gives us a will to achieve them, plus a lot of support from those around us. I heard a phrase the other day that has stuck with me:

 “Without effort there is never any real reward.”

This may take some effort but my reward will be when my lines are drowned out by booing, excitable kids who I can shake my fairy wand at. Perhaps there is still a use or two for my fairy dust.

Taking the Plunge!

There are times when it feels like I’m standing on the top diving board with all around me waiting for me to take the plunge but I’m paralysed to the spot and can’t step off. This week this analogy has come flooding into my mind as I feel that the work-life balance is evading me and the stresses that brings, are swirling around me. The scene from Little Mermaid plays its soundtrack in my head - “up where they stay all day in the sun, wandering free, wish I could be, part of that world.” Have you ever felt like you’re desperately trying to swim up to the surface, towards the light and freedom that it promises but you’re being held back, pulled back beneath the waves and all is swirling around you?

Maybe it’s just me? 

Just lately, I have found that I feel as if things are getting on top of me and as they do I have that all consuming sensation of spiralling out of control. Whether it’s just work and home circumstances or a combination of those pressures with adjustments needed again with my anaemia as it’s impacting upon my mood, I don’t know. When you hear people talk about feeling low, but you haven’t been there yourself, you just think there must be a quick fix and after all, we all have days when we feel a bit fed up. Now that I too have found myself in this category, I have been struck by just how overwhelmed I can quickly become. I have always been a logical, rational person but I can see these skills slipping away as the mood takes hold and I spiral down the helter-skelter of emotions.

The high board is where I currently stand, looking at still blue waters far below. A delectable temptation beckons - joining the cool pool of water, but it’s so far away and involves a leap of faith to dive the distance to reach it. So what do you do? Stay rooted to the spot, dive off with a high possibility of making a complete bellyflop on entry to the pool, or be brave enough to ask for help to find an alternative route down perhaps? It may feel like a backwards route, the long flight of steps back down from that precarious height, but there may be something rewarding in retracing those familiar steps and recognising what you achieved along the way on each step in the first place.

A good friend offering a hand to hold as I tentatively start the long climb down has offered wise advice. If you can’t completely change where you currently find yourself, what can you do to improve your situation? I know that I have referenced this in previous blogs, particularly in ‘Diva or Door Mat?’ but I do struggle to stand up for myself. Being proactive in saying what I can and am doing is not a natural part of my makeup. Neither do I find it easy to rock the boat, to make a fuss about things. So do I just let it all build up until I’m in that overwhelmed state? I guess I do or I have done so a lot. So now I recognise at least that I have to listen to friends who may sound harsh at the time, but who are pushing me to do the right thing for all the right reasons.

The best friends don’t always agree with you, they challenge how you feel about things but they do it in a way that you know they’re around if you fall. Think back to when you learnt to ride a bike. You couldn’t keep the stabilisers on for ever - riding around in some falsely constructed safe reality. No. There came a point when you were on those two wheels and you wobbled off down the street. You fell off a bit but you persevered and rode that bike in the end, probably with a parent or sibling cheering or smiling from the sidelines as you did so.

I hope my friends who are making me ride without stabilisers, are quietly smiling to themselves when they see me manage part of this journey. I know they’re looking out for me and sink or swim, ride or fall, they’ll be around to listen, advise or offer a friendly hug. Let’s face it, even a middle aged woman can feel a whole lot better after a comforting hug and a friendly smile.