Quality Time

This week has been about quality time. Time spent away for a few days, with my Mum, my daughter and the dog. Three generations together enjoying each other’s company, talking about all manner of things and loving the luxury of the hot tub that came with the lodge that we had hired. We stayed in a small holiday park which was basically set up to be a landscaped area for the lodges - both privately owned and holiday let - with a small reception office, staffed a few hours a day. That was it - no frills, no shop, no on site activities, just peace and quiet a plenty, with sheep and ducks as our neighbours.

Knowing this was the type of site we had signed up for, we had planned accordingly and between us taken a box of provisions. Although we could drive a short distance to a supermarket if we needed to, there was something of a nostalgic element to packing our provisions box. A nod to past holidays in my parents’ caravan when our kids were small and we would load up the car with groceries, toiletries, clothes and all the extras that toddlers seem to need before driving off for a long weekend or half term break.

We weren’t far from the spot that Mum and Dad had their caravan and although over a decade since we were last there, it was hard not to reminisce about past days out back then, with my Dad. Much has changed and some aspects remain the same, like any typical English seaside town, but walking around Hastings and Bexhill-On-Sea I found myself wondering what Dad would have made of it all. Back before his illness took hold, he would walk for miles and find a little spot to sit to survey the countryside with his packed lunch of sandwich spread or crab paste sandwiches, a packet of crisps and a chocolate penguin biscuit. Once retired from teaching, he would often travel down on the train for a few days and spend his time walking, running and cycling. He always had a drive to be in the outdoors and active.

Being close to nature, as I described earlier, was part of the relaxation process this week. Of course, as I have often mentioned in my writing, I benefited from being by the sea. Beyond that though, to feel the wind on my face, walk around the fields and watch the clouds pass overhead, all helps to focus the mind on the important parts of life and induce an inner calm.
Being back in the setting of the many holidays spent when my children were young felt strange at times and made me consider how much has changed since then. I miss the togetherness of when the children were younger - when we would all go to places together, eat together and be part of the experience together. A ‘bear hunt’ through the swishy, swashy, long grass on our way to Pevensey castle, looking for fairies hidden in the tree trunks of a National Trust garden, or losing count of how many strokes there have been as we work our way around a busy Crazy Golf course.

Does everyone look back to past sections of their life and think how much simpler things were then? The ‘memory seive’ effects your perception though, filtering through all the positive moments and nothing in life is ever really that simple. For every happy bucket and spade moment there may well have been disagreements about where to go, what to do about lunch or stand offs with the children when we wouldn’t let them buy up a whole souvenir shop. I am sure you can recall both the good and bad parts of your own holidays or days out with family, to know what I mean. Then again, family by its very nature and familiarity brings out the best and the worst of us all, perhaps as it is when we are with family that we are in our safe space to show how we really feel.

Today life often feels complicated, my children have their own interests and pursuits, meal times are sporadic and that elusive together time is to be treasured even more when we actually all manage to sit down together and talk to each other for a short while. If anything should come out of my week of quality time, then I think it is the importance of valuing what you have and when you have each other, take a few moments to be grateful for that. It may not happen so regularly with a grown up family, but when it does and we are all in the same place at the same time and absorbed in a given activity together, I’ll be content with quality over quantity.

Shabby Chic

Scratch beneath the surface of a grand veneer and is it all that the facade promises to be?
Think of a plush setting that you have visited - a hotel, a theatre, perhaps a high end restaurant. Do you notice the details or are you just swept along with the moment and the ostentatious paraphernalia on display? Take a closer look and it may be all too easy to find the cracks, the forgotten dusty corner and, rather like the proverbial swan, see the drudgery and sheer hard work of all those persevering to keep the cogs turning smoothly to maintain the illusion for the public.

We visited a National Trust property yesterday and marvelled at a chandelier in one of the rooms. We were intrigued to hear that it is cleaned bi-annually and that the process takes two people a whole month to complete. Things of beauty take a lot of work behind the scenes to maintain. Looking at the dining table all laid out with cut flowers, thin stemmed glasses, polished cutlery and an array of fine tableware, it felt as though we had stepped into a moment in time, glimpsing a bygone era of decadence. It brought to mind a stark contrast to the modern-day, throwaway mentality of fast food, delivered to your door at a click on your phone, disposable and nondescript. Whatever the reasons for today’s proliferation of instant gratification, the almost immediate satisfaction of Uber eats, microwaved ready meals and fast processed snacks does not remain a satisfaction quelled for long. Whilst we have created these systems in our society to provide us with quick fixes so that we can get back to our busy days, in so doing, are we in danger of forgetting how to take time out, to pause and notice our surroundings and to appreciate what we have before us?

As I started writing this, I was sat in a hotel bar alongside my husband on our anniversary weekend away. From this vantage point I could see both aspects that I mention, the two sides of the coin - the beauty of the well chosen furnishings, the hotel guests sat around taking time to chat, whilst woven all around the scene was the work going on by many staff to maintain that facade of luxury. On a Saturday morning in July, with many wedding guests arriving, there were times when the staff looked overwhelmed and the luxurious image slipped in places as tables were left uncleared with discarded food and glasses dotted around and the ever-growing queue for the bar dented the peaceful atmosphere we had originally sought. I put down my pen and we headed off for a dip in the pool, an altogether more tranquil experience.

Thinking back to that scene now, I wonder if others were disturbed by the parts I have just described or if they could just zone out, carry on with their conversation or morning read regardless? As I have grown older, I have found it more difficult to do that. I think back to when my children were young and I could hold a conversation with another Mum whilst sipping coffee, changing my child’s shoes and wiping their nose and sending them on their way again to play with the toys in a noisy church hall toddler group - all without a second thought. Now I have to focus on one thing at a time.

That’s maybe no bad thing and as I said before, just taking a moment to pause is invaluable. I am having to work at this still and particularly the last few weeks I have found that I really need to carve myself some time, remove myself from the routine and home environment to be able to pause and hopefully then, to write. It’s back to the need to find the space to think, to recharge, to allow the creative part of the brain a chance to spark. When I have removed myself to the garden, or my loft room or a coffee spot nearby, I am in a much better position to let the pen flow.

I have just read one of those quotes posted with regularity on Instagram, which read something like this - If you look for good, you will find it, if you look for the worst, you will find that too. I think you can stand in a stately home, a grand hotel or a regency theatre and find either the good or the worst, if you try. The best advice is to share a moment with good company and the good grace to be thankful for that time. Pause the distractions, sip your tea from a china cup, indulge in the delight of a little decadence if you can and, just for that fleeting moment, relax.

And Relax...

I feel my inner mermaid stirring. Sat upon a sandy, Cornish beach in June, I am afforded a precious view of the sun glistening upon the sea. I could attempt to paint an image for you with some well-chosen words as my brushes but it is one of life’s moments that cannot be replicated well second-hand. Suffice to say, the sights and sounds all add to the calm that slowly emanates from deep within.

I guess it must be there all the time, waiting to disperse throughout my being like a soluble aspirin, fizzing its bubbles of tranquility to achieve a state of calm or perhaps the more popular word now is zen.Yet, in my everyday world, the one of daily routine, I don’t allow the fizz to take hold. The first signs of a bubble of calm and there’s a queue of reasons waiting to pop into my mind, to tick off the list of chores, to kick start the cycle of overthinking, doubting my abilities and denting my self-confidence. With all that going on, even in the quietest of environments it is going to be difficult to switch off and start the calming process. In actual fact, I started writing this piece two days ago and could not get past the opening paragraph. Despite having my perfect writing environment- a sea view balcony and a glass of wine- the words would not flow and my mind could not settle. I asked myself why? Why, when on a holiday that I have looked forward to for months, in a place I have dreamed of returning to for a few years, could I not allow myself to switch off and truly relax? I don’t have the psychological qualifications necessary to answer that or to unpick all that is going on in my overthinking head and through my writing.

Today though, I am back on that beach, with my senses stimulated by all that a beach day encompasses and I am writing again. The sun is heating my arm as I write, the sound of the sea forms a backdrop to my thoughts and all around I can see blue. Blue sky, blue waves, just blue. The colour of calm and tranquility I think and certainly evocative of mermaids. I close my eyes and let the image of a mermaid lagoon develop and permeate the corners of my mind. I try to place myself within it, with long, flowing hair and a glittery fish tail. It seems that imagination and being at one with nature is a powerful combination. I can feel that my heart rate has slowed and deep breaths take me further into this current state of tranquillity. If only I could bottle this and keep it on a shelf to take out and use for emergencies. I could keep it in the bathroom medicine cabinet alongside the painkillers and alka seltzer.

A friend messaged me to say that she hoped I was managing to properly relax on my holiday.  It’s been six months now that I have not been at work, others may have assumed that the need for such relaxation was unnecessary and that surely I got to do it all the time now anyway. It hasn’t felt that way at all because even though I may not go out to work, I still have things to do, a routine still forms. I guess everyone’s everyday can consume them at times and we all need a break from our ‘routine’, whatever that routine might look like. I certainly felt the need for it.

One of my earliest blogs attempted to describe my struggles with self-doubt and feeling easily overwhelmed as being ‘confined by my cage of confidence.’ I know that I have made great strides forward from that point but the last couple of weeks I have found myself to be overthinking a lot. Wary of allowing that cage to start constructing itself again, I have truly needed this holiday and the space and time to stop the cogs whirring around. Being drawn into overthinking can feel like falling down a hole and I’ve been struggling to find myself some footholds. Whilst I recognise that this is happening and I know all the strategies I should use to stay positive, a few inches falling down can feel like I have spiralled many feet.

Perhaps it is because I have been wrapped up in projects that have now met their deadlines that I now find myself a little like driftwood cast upon a shifting tide, to maintain the sea metaphors. Certainly the first months of this year I became absorbed in writing my book, then whilst attempting to make all the right decisions in regard to editing and publishing it, I was simultaneously writing and editing a script. Now I feel a little in limbo and in need of a new focus and direction. I draw myself back to my surroundings and find that the tide has gone out to reveal a beautiful rock pool, the size of my metaphorical mermaid lagoon. Though I don’t have a mermaid outfit to wear, this cool pool, out of reach of the frantic everyday draws me close. My daughter joins me and we tiptoe in, ignoring the initial reactions to the cold until we get to the point where we are brave enough to dip our shoulders in.

From that point on, I have hit the zone – I am relaxing. Together, my daughter and I swim around, laugh and float in the pool. At that moment, I embraced the holiday, I valued the luxury of being able to spend time with family and I gave myself permission to take a break and to wait to see what happens when the writer’s block disappears. My daughter wants us to build our own lagoon in our back garden when we return home. I must admit to seeing the attraction but then again, I have always found a draw to water, something about the sea that touches me and allows me to find an inner calm. When things get tough again, as I am sure they will, when the spiraling starts, I need to tell myself to think of this moment. One simple moment of calm when I could be whoever I want to be.

Mermaid Mother

I am sitting on a beach on the sort of day when years of UK holidays have trained you to button up your cardigan, smile and say how lovely it is. Listening to the waves rolling in, slowly seeping into your mind- pushing aside the stresses of your everyday reality and gradually allowing space and time for calm. Just as I’m drifting willingly into a reverie of relaxation I get bulldozed by our dog who has bounded into me, covered in a dusting of sand - she’s just discovered the unbridled joy of jumping in the waves, trying to catch an elusive piece of driftwood.

For a moment, whilst my daughter laughs heartily at the sight of me floored by our pup, I’m back in my childhood swimsuit days. Reminiscing about many years of holidays on the Isle of Wight, where a day on the beach seemed endless and only punctuated by sand-filled sandwiches or an ice cream, when I was free to build sandcastles, splash in the waves, collect shells and generally engage in the serious business of beach play. At any given moment I was a pirate about to walk the plank or a mermaid collecting shells for my underwater palace, the best sand architect in the world or a swimmer who was sure that a few strokes more would win an Olympic medal. Imagination knows no bounds when a child gives it the freedom to soar. Why do we limit it in our adult world? Obviously the responsibility of adult life puts constraints on our playtime- I’m not sure I could fit in making a shell necklace between answering emails at my desk and tipping out a bucket of sand would certainly be frowned upon!

Whenever you get a chance though, I challenge you to use your imagination. Let that inner child out and just run with it. The best times I have had as an adult have been the silly times, when I’ve let down my guard and imagined daft scenarios shared over wine in cahoots with friends or family. The creative part of my personality is allowed to fly through my writing and when engaged in creating a character on stage or working out dance moves for our drama group – it’s all a chance to unlock a piece of imagination and in doing so, be more the child than the adult which is something worth doing on a regular basis. How many times do you allow your inner child to surface and call the shots for a while?

To return to the moment in hand though: the dog bounding around with me pushed over on the sand and my daughter laughing moment. The best thing about this joyful snapshot is the sound of her laughter. Having watched her struggle for over two years with anxiety and depression, to see her currently joining the dog in a splash in the sea is indeed a joy. It seems a tempting of fate to actually write these words but she does seem to be a whole lot better in the past few months. Recently she has volunteered and been working at a local coffee shop. To see her talking to strangers as she serves them coffee is akin to watching a rare flower bloom and stand proudly in the sunshine, resplendent in its colour and beauty after growing from a small inconspicuous seed in the darkness.

It’s been two months now since she sat her last exam and we will know today what grades she achieved. Whichever numbers or letters have been arbitrarily assigned to her efforts, they will show no recognition of the immense achievement that she has accomplished in getting herself to a place where she was able to even contemplate sitting in an exam room. It is true that we do not know what lays ahead, with college enrollment and whatever that new chapter may bring. We do seem to be moving forward but the journey that anyone with mental health issues makes is never linear. For now, we are grateful for the journey we have made so far and for the joyous moments that have interspersed this journey. We are not sure exactly where our destination will be and indeed have no idea how long it will take us to get there.

So perhaps it is not surprising then that a day on the beach, a chance for relaxation, has triggered such a nostalgic response - a hidden yearning for a simpler time, when I could conquer the world with my bucket and spade. Back then, I could do anything that my imagination conjured up, with no limitations of gender expectations, qualification requirements or family responsibilities.

As I started to explore in my first post "Mum's the Word," life throws up obstacles in all sorts of ways but you have to find your way to steer around them and sometimes to grab hold of them tight and fling them aside. My mermaid days may be behind me but my dearest wish as a mother is to instill an adventurous spirit in my children. If you want to swim with dolphins, go do it. You can do anything with your family and friends behind you and whatever choices you make, believe in yourself and those that matter will always be proud.