And Reeeeelax....

Ever felt like you’re trying to fit four lives into one? Me too. The level of self invented busyness has run rough shot over my life for far, far too long. I write list upon list and then eventually sit there with so much to do that nothing gets done! It’s absolutely hilarious what I do to myself, but in all fairness it’s come to a stop. I’ve long considered my life purpose to be one of complete surrender to the act of inspiration. Little did I know that inspiration contains one vital component that stops you from becoming overwhelmed. Impulse. I’m not talking about impulse as in doing something on a whim. I mean the beating heart, the pulse of inspiration. The rhythm of the energy the idea has.

My normal way of doing something is, run at it 100 miles an hour until either it or me is exhausted and it’s been fun for a while but I’m breaking up with that way of being. You have to pack your bags and leave I’m afraid. The need to accomplish, or to be more blunt, prove myself, has to go. I am already accomplished and there will always be more to do so running 100 miles an hour in circles is no longer for me. Some ideas need time to grow and accumulate before they are ready to be born, which for someone who is goal orientated has been a little challenging to incorporate but it’s just time to surrender to it ( again ).

Sheer brute force is no longer working for me. It does get things done but the cost to my time, energy and health are just not worth it any more. Allowing ideas, inspirations and energies to flow effortlessly into my life and allowing them to take shape in their own time and at their own pace lifts, enlightens and empowers. Yes, you need to act, and interact, but the second you need to push it’s time to stop. It’s all meant to be fun, so let the joy float through you and bring the true essence of its power as it arrives.

Seeing past red.

On one of my usual speed runs through the city centre on another never ending mission to get things off a never ending list I stopped, briefly, to buy a poppy. Although amidst this insane bustle there was something in the way these old men stood made me stop for a moment. Smartly dressed and upright, shaking a tin, largely ignored by the people walking passed and I thought to myself “I wonder what they think about us?”.

These men held something special, something that we don’t seem to understand. These men were willing to fight and die for a country that now largely, it seems, ignores them. Forced to raise money for an appeal that shouldn’t be a second thought. In my line of work I often get to hear a lot about war-time stories. The incredible strength that women of that time had in order to hold a family together not knowing if tonight their homes would be bombed, their kids would be harmed, their husbands would be killed. The bravery of the men, ill trained and sent to a ditch to fight line by line walking over the dead bodies of their friends and fellow officers. And here these men stood in front of me, hoping that someone would put some cash in a small box and have a poppy pinned to their jacket. I wouldn’t disgrace these men by feeling pity for them but I know that some of them feel pity for us. To have so little love for the country that holds you, to not know who your neighbours are, to ignore a stranger being beaten up or robbed.

But I don’t want this to be about how bad things are. Pick up a newspaper and there’s enough of it in there. I want this to be about what we can learn. I love my country, I love this soil, I love the sky above us and the sea that surrounds us. We have a beautiful idea. A place where people have access to free healthcare, a place where a legal system strives toward justice, a place where even if you’re out of work there are systems in place that help prevent you from going hungry. I’m not saying that these systems are perfect but the idea of them is what I want to promote and perpetuate. The idea of them is in some way ingrained in who we are, it wouldn’t hurt us so much when these systems go wrong if it wasn’t.

I stood and watched these men, their grace, their presence and their lesson to teach us. After everything they have faced, after each injustice from their government, community, press, legal system, being told their poppy is “offensive”, being made to feel obsolete. We built this country on their backs, on their sacrifice, on their sweat and tears and here they stand. Smiling, willing to teach us. It’s just our job to be willing to learn.