Being out instead of in

Looking out the window and deciding it's a day for sitting in front of the fire with my notepad on my lap, changing my mind, getting all wrapped up, opening the door to sunshine instead of showers, heading up the Gargunnock Hills with Alex, wading through overflowing burns, stopping to look at the hills, splashing in puddles, stopping to admire the view across the carse, getting very  muddy, climbing over barbed wire fences, stopping to listen to the waterfall, tripping over ferns in the forest, tramping through a field full of sheep shit, splashing in more puddles, stopping at the village pub, sitting in front of the stove, supping soup and a pint, opening the door to showers instead of sunshine, heading home to sit in front of the fire with my notepad on my lap. 

That's what's making me feel good today :)

Gemma showing me the way

Once I get an idea into my head I usually really enjoy the process of pulling it out and turning it into some sort of reality, even if the reality ends up not bearing any resemblance whatsoever to the original idea! I usually find that the journey is just as - if not more - rewarding and enjoyable than the final destination. I don't usually fret too much over the decision to take the plunge and push on with putting my thoughts into action. And I usually manage not to worry too much about failing or falling flat on my face or making a fool of myself because I know that I'll learn something (and usually have some fun) in the process. That doesn't mean that I don't often get nervous or agonise about how things will turn out, but my nerves or anxiety are usually kept in check with the knowledge that I'll feel worse if I sit and do nothing than I will if I get off my backside and do something - even if there's a chance that that something might go horribly wrong! 

So, I don't have a clue why I've been so irrationally worried about putting my latest wee plan into action!

Gemma and I are taking part in the Women V Cancer 100km Night Cycle in London in May and I want to do something a bit different to help me meet (and exceed) the fundraising target. The idea I've come up with is to create a wee collection of poems, which all relate to either cycling or cancer, along with a few short articles (sort of 'what every woman should know' pieces on breast, ovarian and cervical cancer) and publish them in a book (or, most likely, a booklet) that will hopefully be entertaining and informative in equal measure. I've made a start on the poems and I've enlisted Gemma's help with illustrations and the technical/printing side of things! I've contacted the three charities that the event is supporting and they've all given me the thumbs up to it being a good idea. And, I'll be doing some of the things I love (cycling and writing) with the support of someone I love (Gemma). Surely it's a win win situation?! 

There is no reason whatsoever not to be cracking on with it and turning my idea into a reality. It might be hard work and it might be a bit of a challenge and I might not come up with great poems and I know nothing about publishing and I might not sell very many and everyone might think it's rubbish - but I'm bound to learn a lot and have a really good experience trying! But, until this morning, I just couldn't see it like that. Not like that at all. 

I was having palpitations every time I thought about doing this thing. I felt as if there was a battle going on inside my head between, in the blue corner, the part of me that's frightened that I'm going to make an ass of myself, that some folk will think it's a naff idea, that the poems will be rubbish, that nobody will buy the booklet, that I don't raise much money, that some folk might sneer and wonder who I think I am for even thinking about doing such a thing never mind carrying it through......against, in the red corner, the part of me (the more familiar part of me) that's excited about having a new wee project to get my teeth into, that's passionate about trying to raise money for three extremely important and worthwhile causes, that isn't worried about failing because I know that failing is so very much better than not trying at all, that loves to write so knows that I'll enjoy doing this no matter what the outcome, that doesn't let herself get bogged down by or concerned about people sneering or sniggering at her as what other people think of her isn't the yardstick that she measures her life by, that understands how small this wee project is in the whole scheme of things and that knows how much she values the opportunity to do anything alongside her daughter!

This morning the blue corner was definitely winning the fight and I didn't really understand why. I wondered if it was because I'm about to launch myself into something that involves me putting my writing out there for sale for the very first time? Until now I've written for myself, for fun or for friends or for family. I've never asked anyone to pay for anything I've written. And, even though the profits are going straight to the charities and not into my pocket, I think I find that kind of scary! I don't think I'm worried about people reading the poems and not liking them - I totally appreciate that they'll not be to everyone's liking - so I think it's more about me worrying that folk will think the whole thing's a naff idea in the first place. It just doesn't seem to make sense. I shouldn't be worrying about that! Who cares if folk think it's naff??!! 

I, irrationally, did.

But, that was earlier. That was before I read Gemma's latest blog post. It wasn't aimed at me, but it struck such a big chord and simply couldn't have come at a better time. Included in the post is a link to the recent TED talk given by Diana Nyad - the 60 something year old woman who was the first person ever to swim the 100 miles across the Gulf Stream from Cuba to the States - and it was just the kick up the backside I was needing. During the talk Nyad says:

"Just you go ahead and sit back in your comfortable chair and you be the critic, you be the observer, while the brave one gets in the ring and gets bloody and gets dirty and fails over and over and over again...and lives life in a bold way...none of us get through this life without heartache and turmoil...and if you can get knocked down and get back up again...you find your way."

And, as if that wasn't enough to well and truly knock the blue corner out, Gemma finished her post by saying

" 'to live is to do' and instead of finding reason to back up the idea of stopping, you just have to 'find a way' to do that thing that you really want to do".

I really want to do this wee booklet. And, with the red corner well and truly back on top, I'm off to find a way. And I'm so very lucky to have Gemma holding my towel!

Friends

I consider myself very lucky to have some really great friends. There are lots of things that make a friend special but for me one of the most important things is that I feel totally comfy in my own skin when I'm with them. I don't have to work at impressing them, I don't have to pull on any kind of mask and I can quite simply 'be' how I'm feeling at the time - whether that's happy, sad or something in between. 

And whether I've known my best pals for most of my life or for only a few years there's often very little difference in just how good they can make me feel...

Last night I spent a lovely few hours with my pal Christine, whom I've only really known for a few years. Much of her evening was spent patiently listening while I harped on about the major issue of ... my hair. I haven't had my hair dyed for over 6 months and, consequently, it looks as if it's been very badly dipped and stripped! It's an odd mixture of grey, black, brown, white, yellow and orange! (It's fodder for a whole new blog post in itself...!) I've been determined to persevere with my 'embracing the grey' journey, but it's driving me nuts and, as much as I keep telling myself that I'm lucky to have my hair at all and that it's ridiculous to get so het up about my hair colour, I just can't help feeling a bit self conscious at times. That determination to persevere has definitely been wavering of late!

However, after a good sounding off to my buddy - interspersed with a lot of laughs and a big dose of perspective - my confidence was restored and my resolve was back in tact! 

Poor Christine isn't the only person who's been landed with the lament of my locks; most of my pals have heard it in some way, shape or form and I'm grateful to them all for putting up with my ramblings during my regular wobblies! I was especially grateful - and wept buckets - when one of my oldest friends Caroline sent me a copy of 'Fiere' by Jackie Kay. It epitomises our shared childhood and, even though we're nowhere near being the 'doddery' old wifeys in the poem, we are both embracing the fact that 'oor hair micht be silver noo'! 

'Fiere' means companion or mate in Scots dialect and life-long friendship is very much at the heart of the poem. But it also seems to be saying that friendship is the thing that keeps us young! So, being lucky enough to have a fair few 'dearie's' to be 'havin a blether' with almost guarantees that I'll always be young at heart - no matter the colour of my hair...

Fiere

If ye went tae the tapmost hill, Fiere,

Whaur we used tae clamb as girls,

Ye'd see the snow the day, Fiere,

Settling on the hills.

You'd mind o' anither day, mibbe,

We ran doon the hill in the snow,

Sliding and singing oor way tae the foot,

Lassies laughing thegither - how braw.

The years slipping awa; oot in the weather.

And noo we're suddenly auld, Fiere,

Oor friendship's ne'er been weary.

We've aye seen the wurld differently.

Whaur would I hae been weyoot my jo,

My fiere, my fiercy, my dearie O?

Oor hair micht be silver noo,

Oor walk a wee bit doddery,

But we've had a whirl and a blast, girl,

Thru' the cauld blast winter, thru spring, summer.

O'er a lifetime, my fiere, my bonnie lassie,

I'd defend you - you, me; blithe and blatter,

Here we gang doon the hill, nae matter,

past the bracken, bothy, bonny braes, barley.

Oot by the roaring Sea, still havin a blether.

We who loved sincerely; we who loved sae fiercely.

The snow ne'er looked sae barrie,

Nor the winter trees sae pretty.

C'mon, c'mon my dearie - tak my hand, my fiere!

Jackie Kay

getting out for a Sunday cycle

I managed to make it out for a ride on my bike this morning for the first time in over two months. A long drawn out bout of laryngitis followed by some rubbishy weather along with a wee dose of cannae-be-bothered-itis resulted in a bit of a hiatus from cycling. But, aw man, it felt so great to be back in my saddle today. In fact, one of my favourite Christmas presents from Alex probably sums it up best:

things staying the same...

Well, that's another year over and a new one begun. It's been a funny old year for me, 2013. Lots of things made me smile, laugh or cry and feel happy; some things made me cry and feel sad; numerous things made me puff up my feathers and feel proud; a few things made me fret and feel anxious; a number of things made me curse and feel angry and many things made me step back, draw breath and feel extremely lucky to be living this little life of mine. 

I guess that could be a summary of every year for many people - a mixture of good and bad stuff creating a melting pot of emotions - but maybe sometimes we feel that things have been a bit more of a jumble than in previous years. And I guess that's how it feels for me this time around. 2013 just seemed to bring more in the way of change than usual, some of which I've adapted to without any problem and some of which I'm still trying to get to grips with! I'm looking forward to continuing to do that during the year ahead while, at the same time, meeting any new challenges that crop up and looking out for some new opportunities along the way.

I set this wee blog up on the first of January 2011 and I honestly didn't think back then that I'd manage to keep it up for one year, let alone three! Lots of things have changed since writing that first post, but one of the things that's making me feel good today is the thought that some things have stayed, very comfortingly, the same. Alex is still at the centre of my world and our kids are still at the centre of our universe. My mum and Alex's mum and dad are still looking younger as the years go by and, thankfully, still in relatively good health (and keeping us on our toes!). My special friends are still the same special friends. I still live in the same ordinary house with the same extraordinary view. We still have our own wee business. I still love trying and learning new things. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. And I still hope I simply keep on enjoying the journey!

So, I'm heading into 2014 ready and up for any new challenges that might come my way and hoping to make the very most of some new opportunities. But, I'm also hoping that some things don't change at all, because those are the things that I can always count on to make me feel really good. 

I hope 2014 is a year full of things that make you, dear reader, feel good too and I hope you'll continue to drop in on my wee blog. I really do appreciate your visits and I'm looking forward to blethering some more about what makes me feel good along life's way. Whether it's something that's changed or something that's, reassuringly, remained the very same.