Considered Life
Featured
Believe me, there will always be critics, hovering, waiting for an opportunity to strike. You will face rejection; your writing will not be accepted; your project is given to somebody else; your painting is still waiting for a home; no one is eating your cake.
I was very lucky recently when a friend offered me the use of her woodland lodge for a night. I arrived early and left in the evening the next day. As I stepped onto the balcony and found myself engulfed by trees and birdsong, the emotions that spun through me were palpable. Totally alone, immersed in nature, I could almost hear an almost silent tinkle of fairy-dust showering me with lightness and clarity. The rush of excitement danced with the calm of tranquillity and the blend was a perfect partnership.
When did you last receive a letter in the post?
I remember how excited I would be when an envelope landed on the doormat, the address handwritten and the stamp a real sticker, not a grim franking machine automation. As life, and technology stretched out before me, I wrote less and less.
You got it wrong? … try again
(if you got it right! Well done … stay as you are!)
That’s it. You’ve reached midlife, and who knows when that began exactly? The logical conclusion would be that you know yourself, you have found yourself, and you have got your sh&t together. What a neat little package that would be indeed.
What would you do with your spare time, if shopping were no longer one of your regular hobbies? Yes there is the gym, the library, local choir, windsurfing, cupcake making and thimble collecting. Thank you, but how does that address the pull of the bright city lights? Living where I do, I am in a privileged position where everything is on my doorstep: rolling countryside, woodland, vibrant towns, and cosmopolitan cities. I am also a ten minute walk away from some luxury retail outlets, interspersed with enticing local shops. Staying away is like attempting to resist the sirens’ call, which is a futile exercise.
I do not remember my Grandmother ever decluttering. In fact, her home was a house of treasures. As children, my sister and I loved to explore every nook and cranny in the beautiful Victorian terrace in London. Anything that was off limits, was usually placed high up on some shelf that was frustratingly just out of our reach. This served to ignite our curiosity all the more and these unattainable prizes became our sacred chalices, teasing us in our dreams and dancing in and out of our thoughts.
Reflect on some of your Monday mornings. It may look something like this: alarm - groan - snooze - alarm - expletive - get up and comment on unfairness of the world - Monday mornings should be banned - look in mirror - groan - expletive - mental list of every flaw/imperfection/excess flesh - shower - open wardrobe - groan nothing to wear - clothes are all meh! .... you get the picture? Sounds great, doesn't it? Er NO? How are we to maintain healthy bodies and minds with such a negative start to the day?
All transitions can be scary. There, that's the truth. Midlife is yet another transition in life with physical and mental effects; however, remember puberty? Learning to walk? (probably not), your first broken heart? It is a challenging time when, as teenagers, we discover changes to our body and moods … yikes!
There are many good men in this world who claim to be feminists, who claim to respect women and strive, in their own way, to fight for women’s rights alongside them. However, I have yet to meet a man who actually ‘gets’ it. It is not in the big gestures, promotions, and declarations of respect. Most of these areas are like moving particles gravitating towards the magnet of equal status and pay in the professional domain or a conversation touching on domestic duties.
Oh my wordicles! Everyone appears to be decluttering, minimalising, scandivising and just generally chucking their lifetime’s accumulation of stuff into the metaphorical and often actual bin - yikes! Surely I will need that incomplete set of twelve cocktail glass stem rings that aunty whoever bought me for my twenty first?
It often works like this: you sit on a Saturday morning in your fleece pyjamas (OK, your elegant White Company loungewear) and see an image of the perfect outfit on Instagram. ‘This IS ME!’ you declare to no one in particular. ‘This is SOOO me, I now know what I need to buy to make my wardrobe perfect and complete YESSS!’
For me, this is the month of exciting anticipation. Summer is over, we have rested and warmed our bodies - some fried, baked or toasted even, and the freshness of Autumn is lifting our spirits. Often there is still sun, using up the remains of its warmth before settling down for the colder months of the year in the UK.
Are you in your 40’s or 50’s and feeling just a little lost? What is expected of you now? Maybe you have had a successful career so far or maybe you are finally ready to launch one but feel guilty investing time in yourself? Do you look at photos of a younger you and think ‘this is it, I’ll never look or feel that good again, just have to stumble on as best as I can’? Or are you optimistic about your future but wonder what is acceptable to pursue?
What then, does a fifty-year-old lady wear? Ooh, that already sounds hideous and has caused me to grimace so much that I will need some serious face stretching to iron out the cracks … Aaaah! My answer to pretty much everything is to eat green things … spinach, kale, broccoli, chlorella, kiwi fruit, savoy cabbage …. I digress. What to wear? Me? I shop anywhere. Really. It could be Reiss, The White company or the local Charity shop.
What about women? Why are we invisible beyond the age of say, 50 if not before? This is where I put my foot down and explore my interests in, fashion, style, health, beauty, inner wisdom and vegan food to empower women who are fab at fifty and beyond.
So, I’m supposed to write. Having acquired a laptop, finally, I am sitting in a trendy café that is bustling with life. Easy chatter permeates the atmosphere with infectious good humour and limitless optimism. My attempts at invisibility are thwarted by the incessant yapping of my dog, who’s agenda is somewhat in conflict with my own.
I would like to buy a bench, said my husband’s Mum.
My husband is a headteacher and had sent out a request for donations towards a lovely garden area for students. It would be a place for them to meet, chat, and enjoy a few moments during break and lunch.
My mother-in-law was very clear that her donation was to buy a bench. It meant a lot to her and I questioned why it had to be a bench in particular?
There was an entire story in her response