When we judge others we are only ever judging ourselves

On days that I struggle with my own self worth and feelings of 'enough-ness', I know that it's happening because I feel so triggered by posts on Facebook and Instagram that normally wouldn't impact me.

I know that on days I'm struggling with my self worth, the voices in my head get louder. The voices in my head speak to me much more negatively. On days where I struggle with my own self worth, I believe them.

But the biggest sign that I've come to observe, is that on days I struggle with my own self worth, is when I'm judging people around me.

I'll tentatively admit that I used to be quite a 'judgey' person. If I'm totally honest, I used to feel superior quite often. But I didn't really have much awareness of it, I had no context for comparison and I didn't question it.

These days I've done a lot more inner work on myself, I've done a lot more self reflection. I've grown a lot more and learnt what it is to connect to humanity at a deeper level, and for the most part those judgments have naturally dropped away.

So on days where I feel those judgments creeping in and the voices of comparison kick up, I know there's some work I need to do my own sense of self-worth.

Recently, when I was having a particularly wobbly day, I went to a Pilates class at my local gym in the evening. I sat cross legged on my mat getting ready for the class to start. The teacher was fiddling with setting up the music and I was gazing into the huge mirrored wall at the front of the room.

Looking into the mirror, I could see everyone else sat to the side of me and behind me on their own mats. And as I glanced around the room, I immediately began judging people.

I began judging the older guy sitting to my left hunched over with bad posture.

I began judging the overweight lady sat behind me.

I began judging the lady on my right who still had her trainers on and didn't look like she was about to take them off anytime soon.

I began judging others to make myself feel better.

And then in noticing I was judging others, I began judging myself.

I tried to shake these feelings off. Because I felt really icky. I didn't want them. I felt ashamed thinking these things. How dare I judge someone else! How dare I use this as a way to feel better than them!

And yet in the moments of those judgments and the inner reality check, a little voice in my head was still whispering, "Yeah, but you know it's true, you are better than them". Then immediately another voice inside would come along to slam that one down.

It was intense.

As the class got underway I began to settle down. But the judgments didn't leave me entirely.

As we were moving through the the sequences and the poses, instead of staying in my own lane with my own thoughts, and being present in my own body, I caught myself steeling glances around the room to see what other people were doing.

To see whether I was the most flexible one there.

To see if I had the best form when holding the Plank or the Teaser.

To see how well the overweight lady behind me was doing in comparison.

I still needed to make myself feel 'better than' in order to make myself feel 'good enough'.

I cringed as I walked home after that class. I felt a heavy with judgment. I felt heavy with the knowledge that I'd sent such a negative energy out towards the other people in the room. That i'd made no effort to connect with a smile to anyone else.

Because at those times I feel a struggle with my own sense of self worth, at those times I struggle with my own insecurities, instead of reaching out and finding connection in the humanity we all share, my reaction is to pull away and disconnect from the aspects of people's lives that I cannot experientially relate to.

I use difference as a reason to disconnect.

I can't understand first hand what life is like lived in their shoes and so I pull away and judge them for it. It's a 'fear' thing and it only shows up when I'm sitting in my own insecurities.

Now today, just a few days later, I'm in a very different place. I recall how judgmental I felt but I'm compassionate towards myself, instead of hating on myself. I'm compassionate towards those parts of me, the shadow side, because I know I'm not really 'judgey Jo' at my core. It's not who I am deep down.

For the most part. I love people. I embrace people. I see the beauty and the 'humaneness' that we all are inside regardless of what our wrapper might look like.

And I know that's my truth.

And I know that two days ago, it was simply my own insecurities showing up and being projected on those around me.

So I show my self compassion. I send myself the love that I needed then.

As I sit here reflecting, gazing into that mirrored wall in my mind's eye, I look the people around me in the room, the same people who were there in real life just a few days ago and I feel nothing but love.

There is no judgment.

As I rewind that tape and play out that same scenario in my mind's eye, I feel connected. I feel whole. I feel just as worthy as everybody else in the room.

Because when we judge others we are only ever judging ourselves.

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Feeling totally exposed even in my own private company

As I sat up in bed, immediately upon waking this morning, I had a sudden urge to grab my phone and take a photo of myself looking in huge mirrored doors of the built in wardrobe that flanks one side of the room.

This isn't a photo for likes or comments, but a representation of how it has shaped me over the last few months, the difference that having a huge mirrored surface opposite the doorway of the bedroom has made in my life.

For context, I moved into this house in January. It's an eight month house sit for the parents of one of my best friends. It's coming to and end quite soon.

I remember the very first evening I was here. Getting undressed and ready for bed and suddenly seeing my naked body lit up in front of the mirror in the yellowy light of the ceiling lamp.

I remember at the time, I froze momentarily then slightly recoiled. Feeling totally exposed even in my own private company.

I wasn't used to seeing my own body in its 'wholeness' and it caught me by surprise.

That in itself fascinated me. The fact that I'm so used to seeing parts of myself. Fragments at a time. Abstract. In small mirrors in the bedroom or in the bathroom, or when looking down as myself, a distorted world view.

Yet I’d so rarely had the chance to appreciate my full form.

Looking at photos of our whole selves is different, we're posed and poised. Viewed rom a distance on a small on a screen. Clothed.

But here I was. Full on, full out. Unprepared and unposed in all my naked glory, standing opposite myself. Looking myself in the eye. There was no hiding even though that urge rose within me.

The next evening when it happened again. I noticed my resistance. I noticed the surprise. I noticed the feelings of uncertainty and unfamiliarity with my own body. Unfamiliar with the body I'm so used to, the body that I have lived in for 36 years, yet I just never really 'see'.

In all its completeness.

So I got curious. I started turning around in front of the mirror. Looking at myself from as many angles as possible. The light changing and creating pattern and shape rippling over me. Twisting, tensing, flexing, looking at the curves, the folds and muscle tone and observing the wonder of the musculoskeletal system that makes the human form.

What magic!

It became quite a fun game. Creating a sense of familiarity and connection with myself, and in doing so a sense of compassion. And slowly but surely a deeper sense of self love.

Self love.

Not that I'd ever really hated my body, not at all. I simply hadn't ever really appreciated it because I'd never seen it, not really, not like this. I’d been so disconnected from my wholeness. I had no idea what I was missing.

But every single night and every single morning as I got undressed, I had the chance to observe my body in it's naked glory. Those moments became such a celebration. A private moment of connection and respect.

As the days and the weeks and months passed during my time in this house, I learned to celebrate the glory, the fullness and the completeness of my body in a way I'd never previously had an opportunity to, in a way that I'd never even seen as necessary.

I can honesty say it has been a beautiful journey.

So, this morning, when I woke up and sat on the edge of my bed, I suddenly had the spontaneous urge to grab my phone and take a photo. Not for likes, but to record this moment. Record how I feel to be in acceptance and celebration, in fascination and curiosity and at one with my body.

This beautiful, powerful body.

As I shot this photo, I had literally just woken up seconds before. My hair isn't brushed. I have an old T shirt and knickers on. Nothing else. I have bruises on my knees where I fell over. The bed isn't made. The room isn't particularly tidy.

But none of that matters.

Because this isn't for likes. This isn't an ego trip.

This is showing up as me in the moment. The spontaneous, raw, vulnerable, unfiltered beauty of me.

A celebration and a call to love in seeing ourselves. Fully.

Because I want you to see yourself. Fully.

I want you to find a huge mirrored wardrobe of your own and stand naked, to look yourself in the eye and truly see and celebrate the depth and fullness of who you are, because it's glorious. Truly and utterly glorious.

And it might take a while to get comfortable with that. That's ok. Stay with it. Lean into those feelings. Because with repeated exposure and a sense of curiosity, it will come. I promise.

I didn't realise before that I didn't love my body but it's simply because I never truly gave myself a chance to.

I'm giving myself that chance today.

---

Processing life in times of trauma - 'When Only One Can Love'

Today I am being kind to myself. I have thrown away my to-do list. I am sitting on the sofa in my hoodie, with a blanket over my lap, sipping banana smoothies and mint tea, tissues at the ready and writing to you.

Writing to you. Writing to me. Writing to let it all go. Writing to process and make peace and move through…

I hadn’t planned to share this post.

Writing it wasn’t even on my to-do list (the to-do list that I have pretty much written off for this entire week).

It felt a little too raw, real and vulnerable.

But a little voice whispered ‘that’s your gift to the world, what if it helped others too’, and so I surrendered to that possibility. Knowing that in doing so it would also help me. That’s part of the beauty of it all.

The outcome was that I wrote some words that helped set me free (scroll down to see them) but first let me give you some context. That part feels important too.

Last week I wrote this post. It centred around my powerful experience at Osho Leela, of choosing to re-write a story that had been holding me back. Towards the end of that post was this paragraph:

“The shift was immediate. As the festival unfolded over the following three days, I felt myself feeling so much more connected, having conversations with ease whereas previously I struggled to initiate, forming close relationships with the girls in my dorm room, meeting people that I've met over the last couple of years and allowing myself to relaxing into their company, and even feeling the exciting spark of potential once again.”

‘the exciting spark of potential’ was actually a guy I connected with. And over the following week that connection took me to a deep and totally unexpected level.

If you’ve been in my world for some time or have read My Why (my ‘about’ page), you’ll already know that this blog, quitting my corporate career, my transition to a plant-based diet, my spiritual journey and a whole host of others powerful parts of my life were ALL as a result of my relationship with a guy with Aspergers. I even wrote about the time in my life in this bestselling book - ‘Thresholds’

I left that relationship over eight years ago, but it took me almost seven years to truly process the impact he’d had on my life and feel ready to embark on another relationship (which then broke down last year due to his complex mental health issues).

To be honest, over these last few months, I have been enjoying finding myself again, enjoying being me, enjoying flings without commitment, self exploration, travel and transience…

Then at Osho Leela I met a guy, who in oh so subtle ways in his mannerisms and way of being reminded me of Paul- the guy with Aspergers.

We connected… it was intense… it was beautiful… then overwhelm hit… then it all backtracked and my brain imploded (ok, slight exaggeration but ya get the point)

It cracked me open and triggered me at a deep level.

I got intense flashbacks, trauma that I thought I had put to bed many years ago engulfed me.

These last few days I have had no appetite, having to force feed myself smoothies and fruit. Broken sleep, waking in the middle of the night and recording voice notes to vent and process the swirling noise in my head. Writing, writing, writing. Sitting alone in the quietness of my house so that process without censoring.

I reached out for help from two friends who i knew would hold space for me. They helped me see things with more objective eyes. It was wonderful and I am glad I was able to reach out to them.

Through my conversations with them, I was hit by a new found (but now so obvious) awareness of the fact that I am always attracted to guys who display ‘aspergic tendencies’* so my brain had a freak out - it flew back to the ‘extreme’ scenario of my previous relationship and dramatically painted every possible future relationship with the same brush.

*there is no intention for labelling or judgement in that phrase- I am simply referring to personality traits, probably something to do with the fact that since I have ADHD, I too am technically somewhere on the spectrum so there is a resonance.

I’d gone down a spiral of worrying that I’d spend my entire life loving without being able to be loved in return. The pain felt so real as I re-lived my traumatic experiences with Paul in our darkest days. When I loved him so deeply but he did not have the emotional capacity to return that love, no matter how much he wanted to.

I woke up yesterday morning and re-listened to a voice note I had recoded in the middle of the night. I transcribed and tweaked it’s message to create the piece of prose below.

This is what it feels like for me when ‘only one can love’ - my experience with Paul. The experience that I have never shared openly before or even acknowledged to myself. I first shared this piece within a private group and so many people thanked me for sharing as they too could resonate with my experience of unrequited love, whatever it’s source or context.

So this is is for you if you have struggled with unrequited love.

If you resonate with my words and my feelings. Know that I hear you. I see you.

Today I am being kind to myself. I have thrown away my to-do list. I am sitting on the sofa with a blanket over my lap, sipping banana smoothies and mint tea, tissues at the ready and writing to you.

Writing to you. Writing to me. Writing to let it all go. Writing to process and make peace and move through.

It already feels lighter. I already feel more empowered. I already feel that so much more space has been created within me. I feel me.

Debris dislodged and shifted. A newfound respect for myself and my self permission to process without censoring. A spark of excited hope for my future.

There is so much beauty available in pain when you allow space for it and are willing to open your heart to the lessons it has to teach you.

As I sit here, I also see the beautiful irony in having this corner of the internet in which to share my pain in all it’s raw and beautiful humanness, a corner I would never even have created if it hadn’t been for that series of events that unfolded over eight years ago.

And I feel incredibly grateful.

---

WHEN ONLY ONE CAN LOVE

I get to hold your hand on the outside, but we never get to go in.

I see the party going on behind the windows, I can even hear the muffled beat of the music and I know what an amazing time everybody's having. But I'm standing outside looking in. Holding your hand, standing outside looking in.

I could let go of your hand so that I can go in on my own.

And I can have some fun, I can smile, I can listen to music and I can dance.

But I know you're still waiting outside and it always feels just a little bit empty.

That's what love is for me. When only one can love. It's always just that little bit empty.

Having someone to 'do' life with. Having someone to take my hand with laughter in their eyes as we dance through the house oblivious, having someone to hold and sway with to the music... creates a depth of connection at a whole new level.

I want someone who feels the rhythm with me. When i'm no longer just listening to the beat on my own, not just standing and dancing amongst other people in the same room when they're dancing in their own way, to their own rhythm in their own little bubbles.

They are not in ours, not in our special bubble. But you are not in ours either because you're standing outside. You were never able to come inside with me. Even though you wanted to.

But because I know you're waiting outside it still hurts and I can't fully immerse myself in what's going on around me.

It hurts. Loving someone who can't meet you in the space of that emotion. Who can hold your hand, can maybe even dip a toe in the waters edge but can never dive in.

It's always just a possibility, a dream. I can almost touch it but not quite.

Worse than if I wasn't standing at the edge at all.

If I wasn't standing there at all, the dream, the vision, the possibilities would have never even existed for me.

I wouldn't know what I was missing.

So close.

So close.

Yet once again not quite close enough to hold.

---

Red lipstick...

When I quit my corporate career in architecture back in 2012, I immediately disowned the ‘power dressing’ culture where female sexuality was often used as a tool to win clients in a male-dominated industry.

In launching myself into the world of health and wellness I flung myself fully to the other end of the spectrum and embraced my inner hippie- barefeet and barefaced. Spending most of my time in gym kit and sports bras (or no bra at all!)

Truth be told I saw my willingness to disown make-up and accessories as a form of personal empowerment, and if I am super honest (this part is really hard to admit) I judged the women around me who I perceived still felt the need to ‘wear a mask’.

Yet, there was something that was still simmering hot beneath the surface as I felt triggered when in the company of beautifully put together women. I didn’t know how to address those feelings so for years I pushed them away and for the most part avoided getting to know those women, so that I didn’t have to address the awkward conflicting growing resistance in myself.

In recent weeks the inner conflict reached tipping point...

A growing awareness that how I am evolving and growing internally is no longer in alignment with how I look externally. In fact, there is now such a significant disparity, it can no longer be ignored.

I realised, that if I am indeed passionate about how we show up in life as the most honest, authentic, bold and empowered versions of ourselves then I needed to walk my talk and stop minimising myself, stop blending in, stop playing small on ALL levels- this includes my appearance! The unspoken void and the missing piece of the puzzle that was holding me back.

I realised I judged and resented the beautiful women around me because I didn’t know how to look beautiful myself (I know we all have a natural beauty but that's not a what I mean here). I didn’t know how to embrace my feminine essence as I’ve always been more naturally comfortable with my more masculine traits, I don’t know how to style my hair, what colours and types of clothes best suit me, what jewellery and make-up could accentuate my appearance... and I wanted the choice!

Choice switches us from playing the victim to taking ownership. It's a powerful reframe.

So I took a deep breath and booked a colour consultation for my birthday next month, I also booked a session with a hairdresser to teach me how to braid my hair, and with the encouragement of a friend in that moment earlier this week I took one more small but significant step in this direction… I bought a bright red lipstick.

Red is my favourite colour. It boldly embodies fun, passion and purpose.

I’ve never felt confident with make-up. Even when at university I felt like I looked like a drag queen when I attempted to apply it. I was envious of my housemates who knew what they were doing and so many times I would put it on and then wipe it all off again before even leaving the house. Feeling frustrated and defeated. Relying instead on my slim gym-fit physique to carry me along and convincing myself that was enough

This time in the privacy of my room I applied the red lipstick. Immediately I could feel the discomfort surge within me. I was pushing the very limits of my comfort zone and it took all my effort not to grab a tissue and wipe it off.

I looked at my reflection, sitting alone in front of the mirror, for a good few minutes until the discomfort softened and my curiousity grew. I smiled and noticed how white my teeth looked against the red of my lips, I noticed how the red of my hair was accentuated, I noticed how I didn’t need any other makeup with such a bold statement feature, though I did also try a little mascara.

I posed for a quick selfie and tentatively sent it to my friend. I kept the lipstick on for the rest of the evening, doing a double take every time I caught a glance of my reflection.

Today I found myself wondering if I’d have the confidence to wear it in public, if it could actually become my new normal.

I decided the very first step was to share the selfie with you...

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Finding the balance in letting go

Over the last few months (maybe even few years) I have felt increasingly pushed and pulled between wanting to get rid of 'everything' and live a very minimalist life, but at the same time wanting to hold on to all the 'creations' and memories of my childhood and my school years, holding onto all my art and craft materials, all the bags and boxes of recipe ingredients and food photography equipment lining my kitchen shelves, and of course all my books!

I find huge comfort and creativity in these things, but in equal measure, I find it all overwhelming and suffocating...

Knowing there are stacks and boxes in the loft and under my bed needing sorting through 'at some point' creates a low level of anxiety that never quite leaves me, a subtle heaviness that holds me back. I have observed this for some time.

I want to travel and live a more transient nomadic life, not for ever but for a while, and all these 'things' are stopping me. I am letting them stop me. Why is that?

I feel incredibly emotional at the thought of just letting it all go, but at the same time a huge sense of liberation. Tears prick my eyes as I write this (unexpectedly)

Maybe that's called starting over?

Do I need to start over?

I recall almost ten years ago now, one weekend totally out of the blue my ex-boyfriend at the time stripped his life almost completely bare to prove to himself he could do it. To prove to himself what was essential. To get curious about what made him truly happy.

He packed everything he owned into boxes in the garage and challenged himself to live from the contents of a single holdall for a week, which became two weeks then one month. He slept on a roll up camping mat on the floor net to the bed for that time period also.

Once the month was done, he slowly added things carefully and consciously back into his life and got rid of the rest, the majority.

I remember thinking he was absolutely crazy at the time. But now I look back and smile with a shift in perspective, a new level of understanding. Extreme maybe, but only now do I begin to understand.

I wonder how to find the balance in letting go. How do I begin to negotiate this task?

Marie Kondo would ask "does it bring me joy?" Yet, so often I find it is not that clear cut. Many of these things do indeed bring me great joy, I'm just not sure that is the question I need to ask…

I have always formed strong attachments to things and struggle to let go often long after they have served me... relationships, clothes, habits... it drains my energy and holds me in the past. On the flip side, memories can be so beautiful, but even in their beauty can hold you back and stop you looking forwards.

I am a creator and my whole life revolves around creativity and using my mind, my hands and all of my senses to interact with and reinterpret the world around me.

The thought of not having access to the diverse physical expression of my art and creativity, not having all my crafting resources to hand to dip into at any given moment quite frankly terrifies me, it pushes me to the very edge of my comfort zone. I'm scared that I will be lost in my head forever with no way to physically create. Even as I write that I know that this is not true.

But maybe this is what I most need to embrace and explore.

Reinterpreting my creative expression through the eyes of a living a minimalist life.

I am curious as to where that might lead...

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The moment I realised I am a 'heptathlete'

I had something of a game-changing realisation today.

I have always been one of those people that has multiple passions and multiple strands to my bow. I was cool with that and fully embraced my creativity (or so I thought)

But today I realised that very same understanding has been holding me back in my business- massively!

I realised I held the story (ingrained from school days, books and societies conditioning) that in order to be a 'master' at your craft you had to focus all in on one discipline.

You have a choice in life - either be good at lots of things, or be a master at the 'one' thing.

By default I firmly held onto the subliminal belief I was a 'good' coach, a 'good' designer, a 'good' writer, a 'good recipe developer...

So when it came to opportunities to put myself in font of potential clients, to chime in on threads in facebook groups, to network and engage with people... I so often held back, incredibly frustrated at myself for doing so, without seeing what was playing out beneath the surface.

I inadvertently told myself that these clients would be better served by someone who was a 'great' designer, or a 'great' coach - aka someone who I perceived focussed fully on that 'one' skill and therefore must better than me.

Now I am calling BULLSHIT on that story!

For the first time truly seeing it for what it is.

I am also reminded of how all these strands and multiple disciplines play out to offer a richness and depth that otherwise would not be. My coaching work infuses my design work, my mindset and creativity is a powerful driving force behind my approach to a plant-based diet. My love of food and recipe creation offers a an incredible dimension to my retreats and workshops.

It’s not always about homing in on and being a master of the ‘one thing’…

It’s also about recognising and bringing to life the interplay between the various strands and the strengths they offer each other… as well as acknowledging that just because I have multiple passions and I spread my focus across them all, it DOES NOT mean that I dilute my talents or my skills. If anything, I have now come to realise that the opposite can indeed be true.

I was speaking with my coach at the time, and just before this realisation hit me and in order to try and prove my point I gave this analogy;

"It's like the example of an olympic athlete, they are world champions in their specific discipline, channeling their skills and practice solely on that narrow focus to be the best in the world".

There was a short pause and then she said to me;

"So, what about the heptathletes?"

So today, for the first time I call bullshit on my lifelong story of never being more than 'good'.

I am embracing my inner heptathlete. 

Now… it’s your turn. Do you have multiple passions and strands to your business or even your hobbies and if so are you holding yourself back? Is it time for you to embrace you inner heptathlete and allow yourself to shift from ‘good’ to ‘great’?

---

30 things I love about being alone...

Yesterday I was having a bad day.

It was just one of those days when everything got on top of me for various reasons and I felt out of my depth and overwhelmed.

I shared a post in a private Facebook group run by my friend and fellow coach Julie New, most of which I have decided to now share below because I know I am not alone in feeling this way. I also know that when we share openly from the heart we invite others into that space to share their world.

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“This feels vulnerable and even stupid to admit because I'm 35, I'm a nice person, I do have friends and I'm in the 'prime' of my life (whatever that is anyway!) but somehow I've ended up feeling lonely.

So incredibly fucking lonely.

I think I have been for some long time but it had been masked until very recently so I was unaware of it's extent. Now reality has kicked in and I need to take the reins and do something about it. I guess that's why I am sharing this openly, because i'm not going to be the victim of my own life!

Five days ago I took on an 8-month housesit at my friends parents place whilst they are off travelling. It is the first time I have ever lived on my own- previously I have lived with housemates at uni, or with partners or parents. I have always had some form of 'company' or some level of 'background noise'.

Reality kicked in really quickly.

I work for myself and can often spend days mostly on my own. I'm not in a relationship. I have wonderful friends but this is not about a lack of people I can call upon. Sometimes a sense of isolation hits out of the blue.

I am an introvert. I hate small talk.

I crave deep conversations and a meaningful hug.

I don't want to be fixed (I am not broken), but sometimes I just want to be heard.

Sometimes (like today) the only people time I have is going to a class at the gym. It feels so good when I am there to adsorb the energy of group of other people. But in reality I might only share a 'hi' and a smile with the ladies next to me, then a 'thanks' to the instructor as I leave.

I do enjoy my own company. It fills me up and fuels my creativity BUT I have too much of it at the moment.

I also realise that I have been spending a lot of time working on my own personal projects, working behind a computer screen - writing my book and re-launching my website - I notice those activities in themselves lack an immediacy of connection and contribution, so they perpetuate the isolation. Small yet very significant things for me to notice.

I feel vulnerable in admitting this because as someone who considers themselves pretty self-aware, a coach for goodness sake... how did I not see this coming? How can I possibly be lonely, it seems almost selfish in this world full of opportunity to even admit it out loud.”

---

Of the back of this post there were such wonderful words and many ‘me toos’ shared on the thread in the group. In articulating my emotions into words, I gave myself the pace to realise where in my life I had been lacking and not that I had an issue with ‘being alone’ but instead it was an issue with not connecting and contributing enough to people and causes beyond myself. This gave me a fresh perspective and a choice to make some changes.

I am also still fairly fresh out of a relationship that ended late last year. I found it very tough emotionally and in the soft quiet moments of the day, or the last thing at night, I sometimes do still struggle.

So I decided to write a list.

As it happens a list of 30 things I love about being alone. Because to be quite honest, I do really enjoy my own company and here’s some of the reasons why…

1. I can spread out diagonally across the double bed.

2. I don’t have to work around anyone else’s routines.

3. I can travel and go on trips spontaneously without warning.

4. I can go to bed and get up whenever I want without the worry of waking anybody up or being woken up.

5. I can’t sleep at night I can just put the light on and read a book.

6. I can make my own decisions without having to run them past anyone else first.

7. If I want to eat chocolate for breakfast there is no one to judge me.

8. I can spend time with whoever I want to spend time with without feeling I should be somewhere else.

9. No obligations to go to social gatherings I don’t want to go to.

10. Fewer obligations altogether.

11. Family dynamics are much more straightforward.

12. The food shop lasts longer.

13. Less laundry to do.

14. If the toilet doesn’t flush ‘it’ away properly, I don’t need to hang around waiting for the tank to fill so I can flush it again.

15. No misunderstandings about whether it is my turn to do something or not. 

16. No one will ‘accidentally’ eat the special treat I bought to enjoy after dinner.

17. I can enjoy the silence.

18. I can be as creative as I want to be without holding back… even if at times it may appear as though I’m possessed by the devil when an idea first lands in my head.

19. I can play the same song on repeat for two hours and no one will complain.

20. I can eat meals at random times without needing to coordinate with anyone else.

21. The only mess I need to clear up after is my own.

22. There is no ironing that needs to be done, and no expectation to do it.

23. The toilet seat will never be left up.

24. There is no great debate about whether the ketchup goes in the fridge or the cupboard.

25. I don’t have to pretend to enjoy TV or watch Netflix, in fact the TV never gets switched on.

26. I can stay out as late as I want without having to check in with anyone.

27. I can go to the gym in the evening without feeling like I should be spending it with someone else.

28. If I’m in the middle of a big creative crafting session, I don’t need to clear it all away when I finish, I can just leave everything right where it is to come back to another time.

29. I can leave a pile of washing up in the sink until the next morning and no one will care. Ditto with a full dishwasher.

30. I can have a long leisurely bath without anyone knocking on the door needing to use or get something out of the bathroom when i’ve only just got in.

What about you, have you ever struggled with feelings of loneliness?

Can you feel the difference between 'loneliness’ and ‘being alone’ - for me one is taking ownership (being alone) and one is playing the victim (feeling lonely). I always have the choice to change my mindset from playing the victim to taking ownership on my situation, remembering that is empowering.

I also find that sharing our thoughts out loud i a safe space, not matter how silly or unfounded they may feel really helps with shifting perspective. This is exactly why I created the I AM group. You are invited to join me there.

A good place to start is appreciation. I love to hear from you… what do you love most about being being alone?

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'The Dance Of My Life {re-writing my story}

I spent a wonderful weekend at RAW FEST 2018 during which I gave two talks - one on the connection between a plant-based diet and out innate creativity (a topic I am so passionate about and is the focus on my forthcoming book) and secondly on 'sugar-free satisfaction' which is actually where this blog started off back in 2011!

It was a wonderful uplifting festival filled with woodland walks, vegan food, yoga, meditation, inspiring talks, sound baths, spiritual music, campfires and chanting... made all the more special as I was able to share the experience with my boyfriend.

On the last day it rained all day and I made a very fetching 'bin bag ball gown' to keep myself dry which worked a treat ;-)

For me one of the main highlights and moments of growth, was the creative writing workshop with HART FLOE POET set in a circle on the woodland floor.

In the lead up to this piece, Hart Floe asked us to visualise our perfect life, thinking ahead to a time when we had achieved what we had set out to – what would that life look like? What would we be thinking, feeling, touching, tasting, hearing... Initially, as I began to write tears welled up in my eyes.

I could only picture myself alone, that has always been the way in these kinds of exercises when I visualise my future.

But I don’t want to be alone, and it overwhelmed me in that moment. I put my pen down and closed my eyes with the intention to quietly meditate on my breathe for the next few minutes until the exercise was over.

My boyfriend sitting by myself side noticed my tears. I felt silly in admitting to him the truth but he reminded me this was my chance to rewrite that story. I knew he was right. Hesitantly, I picked up my pen and with just a minute or so left of the exercise this is what poured onto the page. It felt so good.

I wonder, where in your life might you benefit from rewriting the story that plays out time and time again in your mind?

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The Dance Of My Life...

There is a warmth in my heart and a flame in my soul. 

The stories and photos of those that I've helped lay bound in books by my bedside. 

Precious. 

Laughter fills the hallway and I smile, imagining the antics happening as I prepare lunch to share on brightly coloured plates. 

The large doors open onto the veranda and the breeze ruffles my hair. 
I look to the horizon, the azure sky and valleys beyond. 

Filling my lungs with the still quiet moments before the chaos ensues. 
Beautiful chaos, love and laughter. 

The stillness and the chaos create a beautiful symphony. 

The dance of my life.

...the orginial writing

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