Stepping Close to 2009

Ever since Christmas Day I’ve found myself reflecting over the year that has passed and thinking about where I’m heading. I’ve not been consciously making resolutions as such, but I’ve given far more serious thought to the mistakes I’ve made this year and how I can avoid them next year, the things I’ve done well this year and whether or not I can improve on them, and the path I want to follow during 2009.

I’ve never really found myself feeling like this at the end of the year before. I’ve never been one for resolutions because they generally get broken anyway, but I think the fact that I’m starting to creep towards 50 now has been playing a role in this. I want to enjoy my life, and I want to enjoy it in a way that feels right for me.

Health

A Ward at Salford Royal Hospital - a place I don't want to see during 2009!

My health is one of the things that’s been foremost on my mind recently. I know I can’t turn the clocks back and live the life I once lived but I can take steps to keep myself out of hospital and as well as possible. I know I’ve been playing with fire recently in more ways than one and could so easily end up regretting it, so certain things need to be changed. I want to squeeze as much as I can out of life and I can’t do that unless I improve my health. I can’t re-grow my bowel or unclog my arteries but I can live a healthier lifestyle and take my medication more seriously, both of which will act as a preventative against my condition falling into further decline and will also help improve my stamina and thus the quality of my life.

Family

My family have also been strongly on my mind. There’s a link between them and my wanting to improve my health situation, quite simply that I doubt any of them would want me to be in a worse state than I need to be or, given the worse case scenario but one that could easily happen, dead.

Paul, when he was a boy


Lise and her partner, Bjørn


LM, taken last summer

But I’ve been thinking about my relationships with various family members too. What mistakes have I made? What can I do to help my family more? What do I expect from them? How can relationships be improved?

Friends

And then there are friends. I’ve written several times before about toxic friends and why we don’t need them in our lives and while I’ve managed to rid myself of most, there are still a couple that drag me down. I don’t need people who make me feel bad about myself - when you’ve lived with an emotional abuser for as long as I did, you very quickly start believing the things they tell you and that’s VERY unhealthy. I’m incredibly susceptible to that kind of suggestion now so will have to ensure that I don’t have ANY of those kind of people in my life anymore. The same goes for those who take pleasure in opposing my opinions ‘just for the sake of it’. I like a good discussion as much as the next person, but I’m sick of just about everything I say to certain people being turned into a debate. I just don’t need that.

On the other hand there are friendships that I need to cultivate more. Those people who I feel truly comfortable around, the ones who accept me for who I am without placing any conditions on our friendship, they’re the ones I want to spend time with. They’re the ones who boost me and help me believe that I’m capable of being whatever I want to be. They see beyond my limitations and accept that I sometimes need to push the boundaries and try things that may or may not work out, even though they maybe wouldn’t try them themselves.

Friends can, of course, be family members too.

For the first time in too long I’ve started taking my life seriously. Instead of thinking about de-cluttering, getting rid of debts and worrying over the environment I’ve started thinking about ME and how I can improve my life on a more personal level. After all, if you don‘t respect your emotional and physical needs, no amount of financial security or green living is going to make you happy. Our own sense of well-being is what everything else is built upon.

This coming year I’m going to be who I am regardless of what others think of me, take serious steps to improve my health, enjoy being part of a small family unit, put myself where I want to be, and surround myself with people who I enjoy whilst still trying to be as green and frugal as I can.

Sharon J xx

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Comparing Ourselves To Others - The Good and The Bad

When we compare ourselves to others we can often feel negative because they're better at something than we are or have something we don’t. BUT comparing ourselves with others can also motivate us to do better. I know that when I realised just how good a saver my mum has been, even though times have been very hard for her, I compared myself and how I’d got into debt instead of saving and was motivated to sort my finances out and save more myself.

There are areas where comparison is natural, like during sports events. But in those situations there are rules to be followed whereas life in general has no such rules.

Comparing ourselves to others has almost become a cultural norm in the UK and undoubtedly in many other parts of the world, too.

There’s a huge difference between comparing yourself to others with envy and learning from their successes and failures though. Isn’t it better to use comparisons to improve rather than berate yourself?

Life isn’t some kind of competition - it’s a personal journey to be lived in the way that’s best suited to the individual. When we start trying to live like ‘everybody else’, we end up losing our own sense of purpose and can even forget who we actually are. I know all about that because it’s happened to me and as much as we may believe it, the grass truly isn’t greener on the other side.

It’s really just a matter of putting more focus on going where you want to go with your life and who you really are instead of trying to follow the pathes of others? When you’re enjoying who you are, what you're doing and what you have, it’ll won’t matter that you’re not great at drawing, dancing the jitterbug or doing cartwheels, don’t own your own home, drive a fancy car or earn as much as your neighbour. All that will really matter is what you have, what you believe, where you’re heading and what your personal place is in the big scheme of things.

Sharon J

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I'm A Bitch!

Image: altuwa

While most of us either still do or have had times when we’ve wanted to portray ourselves as being ‘perfect’, that fact is that none of us are. We all have our personality traits and the law of averages dictates that some of those are bound to be what society consider negative.

I have my share.

One of them is that I can be quite bitchy, although in a subtle kind of way. The kind of way that’s stabs just a little, but enough to draw blood.

I don’t like it and would much prefer that I wasn’t but the truth is, I actually enjoy it. Sounds awful, doesn’t it? It isn’t a side of me that I deliberately chose though - I didn’t wake up one morning and decide I’d be a bitch.

I think peer and family influences have a lot to say in why some people are bitchy and others not so much although how bitchy we get probably depends on how susceptible we are to outside influences rather than making our own choices.

I really don’t like doing anything that I know will hurt somebody else in some way, let alone doing it deliberately. Luckily I did eventually ‘wake up’ one day and decided that I’d give a lot more thought to the consequences of my bitchiness than I had before and have gradually learned to curb it considerably. A mini-bitch still lives on though and to be honest, I don’t mind her too much.

Sharon J

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Paul - A Prime Example of Simplicity

My son’s 30 and has what’s termed as ‘profound learning difficulties’. When he was six months old I was told that he would be ‘a vegetable’ (the doctor’s actual term) and was advised to put him into care and forget him. Yes, that’s actually what I was told.

I didn’t. I was just 17 but I knew that with my mum's support, I could give him a life he deserved.

He was 3 ½ when he took his first step and nowadays we call him ‘the roadrunner’ because he dashes along, making it practically impossible for even fit people to keep up, let alone me with my dodgy legs or my mum on her aging pins. He can dress himself (although needs to be reminded put on clean clothes otherwise he’d wear the same things for a year!), he can bath himself if he’s supervised and reminded to rinse himself off properly and given help to wash his hair and get dry, and although he can’t prepare a meal, he can eat without help (although I have to admit that a good deal of it tends to land on his t-shirt or his lap) and he can perform simple household tasks like emptying the rubbish bin, feeding the pets, and vacuuming the floor (but not if it involves pulling the furniture out). In other words, he’s far from a vegetable.

He can’t speak but has an amazing ability to make himself understood through gestures and body language although you’d have to meet him to really understand the extent of his talent (and it IS a talent). He can’t count to more than 3 or write anything other than his name and some crosses (kisses) and he can’t manage complex computer games or even board games. He can sit for hours ‘counting’ pennies and stacking them up though, and even longer with his Magnetix and believe me, he loves nothing more than helping out.

Paul is kindness personified. As long as it’s within his capabilities, he’ll do anybody a favour, and most often he’ll give it a go even if he can’t do it. Unfortunately, the latter sometimes leads to problems because he‘ll have a go at something he hasn‘t been asked to do (like when he decided to change a plug or the time he drilled a hole in the wall). He’s only trying to be useful, though.

He loves animals, nature and sunshine but he doesn’t really complain if it’s raining and he gets wet. He hates it if he thinks people are being unfair to others and cries if a person or animal gets hurt. He’ll comfort you when you’re feeling down and he’s a master at making people laugh. In fact, it doesn’t take much to make him laugh - watching The Simpsons has him in fits!

Paul doesn’t demand much. He doesn’t ask for the latest Cds or DVDs but is happy when he gets one. He doesn’t demand the latest fashions but is happy when he wears something new (unless we’re talking trainers, in which case he’d rather wear the old ones until they fall off his feet). He’s perfectly happy with second-hand furniture in his room and at the moment he’s more than happy with a mattress on the floor in his nan’s room (there’s no room for a proper bed) just because he’s close to her and can be there for her should she need help in the night. He doesn’t want to dine out at fancy restaurants but thinks it’s fun to pop into the bakers for a cake and a cup of hot chocolate now and then, and he neither smokes nor drinks alcohol. He does drink too much milk for his own good, though.

What really upsets him is the way some people react. The stares, the comments made within earshot, and the sniggers from the ‘uneducated’. These things make him both sad and angry.

Recently I told him that I was planning to take him away on holiday. He hasn’t been anywhere for over 2 years - not even as much as a day trip - so I thought that being as he spends the majority of his time either helping Mum with the shopping, helping her with my very ill and dependant father, or just doing some bits and pieces to help Mum around the house, he’d appreciate a break. Alas, Paul didn’t want to go.

Sunshine, beaches, the warm sea, karaoke bars and hotel type join-in entertainment, all of which he usually loves, just weren’t enough to entice him away from his nan. His answer was that she needs him with her to help look after Grandad and to be able to carry the shopping home. That’s a kind and incredibly unselfish heart!

When I see ‘kids’ making demands on their parents for the latest computer game consoles, the latest designer gear, the best holidays and lord only knows what else, and still they’re sulky and miserable and complain that they’re hard done by, I can’t help but think how much better Paul’s life actually is. He’s happy in his simplicity.

Next time somebody says “he’s simple, isn’t he?”, I shall take it as a compliment. He is, he's happy that way and I love him for it.

Sharon J

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Home Matters Most

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Jennifer at HomeMattersMost has asked her fellow bloggers to write a post about why their home matters most to them and there's a lovely book that the generous lady's giving away to whoever's entry is 'pulled from a hat' at the end of it all. This is my contribution.

From The Garden
looks kind of pretty but it's actually more like a jungle than a garden

I’ve always been a bit of a wanderer and since leaving home at the tender age of 18, I’ve lived in 18 different properties. Mum insists it’s the gypsy blood in me coming out (My great-grandmother was a Romany Gypsy) and really never thought I’d settle down, but to everybody’s surprise, I’ve now lived in this house for almost 8 years.

When I was younger, home didn’t really exist as such. A property was just a place where we could be out of the elements, rest our heads and prepare for the next adventure. Even when we eventually built our own house I still didn’t feel any real attachment to it - it hurt more to sell the caravan, which satisfied my wanderlust, than it did to sell the house. But things change.

Becoming ill put a stop to my spontaneous lifestyle and I had to settle, like it or not. I wasn’t too happy with that to start with, especially as I live in what I considered to be a very poky little house - I was used to the big Norwegian homes and a tiny 3-bed roomed terrace in the UK felt like living in a chicken coop in comparison. I felt cramped and smothered, almost as if I couldn’t breath through lack of space both inside the house and in the tiny garden.

You get used to things though, and gradually I started to see this place differently - if I was going to be here for a long time, best make it into a proper home. I’ve gradually been transforming it into a place where I can feel happy and contented, safe from the world and where stress doesn’t exist. Peace and quiet are important to me - the days of having friends over to party at the weekends or trails of kids running through the place are long gone.

Even though I don’t own the house (it’s housing association so secured long-term tenancy) I'm not afraid of putting money or work into it. I’m saving for a new kitchen, I want to install a shower and improve the bathroom, the rest will be redecorated to a much higher standard than is the case today and the garden will be given a complete make-over. I suppose you could say that I’ve finally come to rest, found my base, the place where I can return to knowing that I’ll find the peace I need.

I like to have friends over and there’s always a bed for the night if they need it but unsavoury types aren’t welcome here and neither are those who disrespect my home; I expect everybody to chip in and keep the equilibrium of peace and harmony going. Unfortunately, not everyone understands that. I like the sound of laughter and conversation in the house, but I also enjoy being alone, finding pleasure in quiet solitude while I sit and read, write, knit, sew or just ponder life.

To me, home matters most because it’s where I spend the bulk of my time, and gives me what I need most from life. Contentment.

Sharon J

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Must We Always Answer Our Phones?

Image: DarwinBell

When I was growing up, few of my friends had house phones and mobiles were yet to be deeveloped. Nowadays, everybody seems to have at least one phone in some form or another and we all seem to be expected to be available at any given time.

I’ve no idea how many times my mobile’s gone off while I’m visiting with friends, having dinner in a pub, or standing in a supermarket checkout queue. My house phone has rung while I’m up to my elbows in washing, have my hands full of dough, or am in the middle of eating dinner. Yet time after time the caller has refused to respect that I didn’t want to or couldn’t talk right then. “Just let me tell you about…” seems to be the standard response to my “I can’t talk right now”.

I find it rude when my guests spend 10-15 minutes or more on the phone while I’m sat there like a dumb banana twiddling my thumbs and hearing half a conversation. In fact I once had I guest spend more than an hour on her mobile, talking to her other half who she'd be seeing the next day anyway!

When I’m socialising, I concentrate on those I’m socialising with, not those who are making unnecessary demands on my time and I expect other reasonably sensible people to do the same.

Do we really believe we’re so important that we have to take every call? Do others really have a right to demand our time in any situation?

Phones obviously have a place in our modern society but the fact that the UK has 115 mobile phones for every 100 inhabitants* (and we're talking the civilian network here - business phones aren't included) says a lot about how important we think it is that we should be contactable at any time and in any place. When Lise arrived for a visit I had no idea which number she'd be contactable on because she has THREE! One that she sends texts with, one that she calls with, and one "just in case...". I have enough trouble finding my single phone half of the time so how I'd get on with three is anybody's guess.

It’s years now since I’ve been dependant on answering the phone. If it isn’t suitable to talk - and that could be just because I don’t feel like talking - I don’t answer it. I figure that if it’s important they’ll either leave a message or text me; if they don’t then they couldn’t have wanted to get hold of me that badly. Nowadays, being less dependant on my phone helps keep my life simple. I'm not stressed by a ringing phone that I'm unable to answer in the way some people are.

Some say I’m being ignorant and selfish by ignoring a ringing telephone but I say I’m protecting my right to privacy. We do still have that right, don’t we?

Sharon J

* Source: Eurostat

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Shit Happens!

Image: tassoman

Let me tell you a story about a big bottom.

Before I got ill I was a size 18 with a more than ample backside. One day my then partner and I decided to take my daughter and her friend, the girl who went on to become what I call my ‘almost’ daughter, to a river up on the High Peak.

We had a lovely time up there. The sun was shining from a clear blue sky (remember those summers?) so we were all wearing light clothes. I was in a t-shirt and a pair of thin cotton shorts.

Being a naturally frugal person I kept my clothes for as long as I could and the shorts, I have to admit, had seen better days. But they were comfy and so easy to wear. And I loved the fact that they were a bright, cheerful orange.

On the way back to the car we had to climb over a style. Bjorn went over first, then it was my turn. I was mid-cock when I heard a distinct ripping sound and giggles from the girls behind me. Yes, you’ve got it. My shorts had called it a day. It was no little rip either - the seam had come apart from the crutch to the waistband. What’s more, I wasn’t wearing any knickers!

I’ve always like to go ‘au naturelle’ - I believe it’s good for us to let our bits breathe now and then - but this was one time I wished I hadn’t.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had only be the girls behind me but it wasn’t. To my horror there were two young men on the path behind us getting a full view of my full moon.

These days we look back at that episode and laugh. I mean, as much as it was embarrassing at the time, it was funny; it’s not every day you display your wobbly bum to strangers, after all.

There are lots more stories we look back and laugh about, most of which stem from mistakes that one of us made at the time. There’s the time I caught my foot in the seatbelt and fell out of the car; the time my mum thought she had a bomb in her bag and took it to her mother’s house instead of the police station; the time Lise and Linn Marie had nits but didn’t say anything because they “thought it was kind of like having pets in their hair”; and the time I went out with two un-matching shoes. The list really is endless. I’m sure your family has its own memories borne of mistakes, too.

The point with all this is that instead of beating ourselves up about mistakes and constantly striving to be perfect, we should embrace our imperfections and accept that making mistakes is the one thing that every human has in common. The perfect person doesn’t exist, so why strive to be one?

Last night more mistakes were made here. At the time a few people were upset but in the light of day we’ve be able to loosen up and see the funny side of them. No doubt in years to comes we’ll look back on them and laugh at what they’ve become - funny family stories.

How boring life would be if we didn’t have the colour that our mistakes splash onto the canvas.

Sharon J

PS: If you'd like to read more stories from my life, click here.

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Meditation

“Be Still Like a Mountain and Flow Like a Great River” ~ Lao Tse

I think I’ve probably meditated for most of my life, albeit in an uncontrolled form to start with. My mums says she can remember that even as a toddler I’d sometimes be ‘gone with the fairies’, impossible to get through to. She’d have to click her fingers several times in front of me before I’d ‘come back’.

By the time I was about 5 years old she’d actually started to worry that maybe something was wrong with me. I can remember her asking me about it after one such ‘turn’. I explained that I’d simply been thinking about something, so deep in thought that I ‘was off somewhere else’. Whatever was happening around me simply didn’t register although on returning to my normal state of consciousness, I was aware that life had gone on and I hadn’t noticed. Mum may have finished making dinner, or dad may have changed his shirt. In fact, WW3 could probably have broken out and I wouldn’t have noticed.

As I matured I realised that what I was doing was meditating. I was reaching so far into myself - or outside of myself, whichever the case may be - that I was blocked from receiving external stimuli. I soon learned how to use meditation to help me relax and by the time I reached my twenties, I’d become quite dependent on it. It helped me understand life and my role in the jigsaw puzzle and kept me calm and strong through some very difficult situations.

These days my meditation takes on a form inspired by Lao Tse, one that's part of the Taoist philosophy. “Be still like a mountain and flow like a great river”. I imagine myself as a mountain and feel the energy rising upwards within me, growing until it reaches its full potential. I feel the strength and vigour of the mountain and make them my own. I feel the freedom surrounding me, and the view becomes a view of life’s possibilities.

From the mountain rushes a river, its energy knowing no boundaries and I enjoy the thrill of the ride but take time to explore the smaller streams that may take me to unexpected places. Then I’m heading for a tumbling waterfall before finally enjoying the rock pool below; the calm serenity welcome after the bumpy but thrilling, adventurous ride.

Tao is said to be the force that runs through life. It’s the energy that keeps us moving forward even when times are rough; it’s what give us the ability to feel contentment with the simple things in life; and it helps us understand and enjoy the exciting voyage that life is. To me, meditation is about releasing the Tao in myself because, in our stressful society, it tends to get locked inside, rather like a river that meets a dam, unable to find a path that flows freely.

Now all this may sound pretty weird and whacky to some, but to me it’s the most natural thing in the world. It may not be right but it feels right and that’s what matters. Some people pray, some people sing, some people chant, some people hug trees; if it helps tackle life, that’s surely a good thing.

Whatever a person chooses as their path to peace, as long as it works and it isn‘t hurting anybody, don’t knock it. I know that when I’m in the rock pool - that calm, serene place deep down within me - I can clear my mind. Relaxation and inner tranquility are total and only then can I begin to find the answers.

Sharon J

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Just What is Selfishness?

Photo: Thomas Hawk

On Tuesday evening I went to my friend Christopher’s house. I originally met him through a writers’ group that we were members of and have since become very good friends – he’s a man who never fails to interest and inspire me.

Last night he held a meeting entitled “Finding Your Highest Self” where one of the subjects explored was the concept of ‘selfishness’ and how the accusation of selfishness is used to control us.

It's not too long since I had this discussion with somebody close to me - a person who has used his/her own concern for my welfare in order to try to persuade me to change my mind about certain things I've wanted to do.

"If you do such and such a thing, I'll spend the entire time worrying about you." In other words, it would be selfish of me to do something that I want to do; something that I believe would enrich my life, because it would cause him or her concern.

But isn't it equally as selfish of that person to expect me to live a life that doesn't meet my personal needs, in order to satisfy his/hers?

So just what is selfishness? The group came to the conclusion that it's basically any action that stops a person from reaching their potential, as long as nobody is deliberately hurt in the process.

So what is 'hurt'? Would I be deliberately hurting another person by leaving them to worry about me? I don't believe I would. Their worry is, after all, their choice and not something I've deliberately brought upon them. Is it acceptable for that person to use their worry in order to stop me leading the life that feels right for me? I don't believe it is. In fact, in my opinion, that's nothing short of emotional blackmail.

Now this person insists this has never been about control - that they were merely making me aware of their concerns. But if those concerns are such that he/she would worry about me the entire time, it's obvious that it's going to put the dampers on my enthusiasm for whatever it was I wanted to do. Sometimes it's better to NOT say how you feel and offer support anyway. That would surely be the least selfish path to take. Voice concerns, by all means, but if the person making the decision still wants to go ahead, don't use "but if you do, I'll....".

Far too many people use emotional blackmail as a way of controlling others. Because nobody likes to feel that they're selfish, we accept this and often put aside our own needs in order to satisfy theirs.

Unfortunately this is something we learn at an early age. We see how well it works for others and start to use threats like "if you play with her instead of me I won't be your friend anymore (because you're being selfish by not caring about my feelings)".

In later life we continue to use it. We become more subtle about it, but it's still emotional blackmail regardless and that, I feel, is most definitely a more selfish action than wanting to enjoy a fulfilling life by reaching our emotional, intellectual, physical and/or spiritual potential.

Am I wrong? Maybe you see things differently. If you do, I'd love to hear why.

Sharon J xx

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Man Cannot Be Comfortable Without His Own Approval

The title of today’s post is a quote from Mark Twain, and one that I think is very, very true. No matter how much you try to live up to other people’s expectations, unless you approve of your life yourself, you’ll never feel comfortable and you’ll never be truly happy.

For too long I found myself being a person I wasn’t. I came back to the UK and kind of slipped back into being the person who left 18 years previously. Obviously, I wasn’t exactly the same person – I was a lot older for one and therefore naturally acted in a way that a 19 year old wouldn’t – but my general outlook on life changed back. I couldn’t live the way I had in Norway and I no longer really knew who I was or what I wanted. I allowed myself to be influenced by others – which was only natural, I suppose – but I wasn’t comfortable. I didn’t approve of who I was and I certainly wasn’t happy. I tried to be, sometimes even thought I was, but deep down I knew things weren’t right and that I could be happier.

Since changing my lifestyle and making it clear that my outlook has changed, some people have acted very differently towards me. They probably think I’ve gone mad, wanting to live a simple life instead of one where money speaks and the environment doesn’t really matter that much. They smile and nod, but they don’t understand.

Some at least respect my choices and, like my mum, are actually trying to learn something from them. She’s now changed her clothes washing routine, is thinking about buying a wormery when she moves and looks for products that have the least packaging. She wants to do her bit for the environment, she just wasn't sure how to go about it.

Others have no intention of changing their lifestyles but respect mine and that’s fine too. Everybody has the right to make their own choices.

Sadly, there are some who still expect me to be part of their consumerism – to be interested in the latest gadgets and gizmos they've paid ridiculously inflated prices for or listen to them harp on about the ‘labelled’ clothes they’ve just bought when they already have a perfectly adequate wardrobe. That would be ok if they’d be willing to listen to me talk about the things that are important in my life without criticism, but they don’t.

To be honest, there are few people who I feel I can really relate to. Certainly no more than a handful. Not that I mind – I’ve never been a people gatherer anyway. Well, with the exception of a few ‘hard partying’ years during the 80s, that is. I enjoy my own company and I’d rather be alone than spend time with somebody I don’t really feel a bond with.

I’m more comfortable and happier now that I have my own approval for the way I live my life. And although it's always nice to have, I don’t need the approval of others. I suppose I’m lucky in that my mum brought me up to be my own person and, as an adult, she’s never ever tried to tell me what I should do. She’ll offer advice, and is the first person I turn to when I need it, but she doesn’t get insulted if I don’t take her advice; she always makes it clear that she's merely suggesting and that the final decision must be mine. I hope I’ve managed the same thing with my children.

Mark Twain was a very wise man. What’s sad is that so many people do feel they need the approval of others. Perhaps they still worry about what their parents will think of their lifestyle, or how their friends will feel about their choices, or even whether the neighbours will be suitably impressed. If they could only break free from this horribly stifling need for others' approval I’m sure they’d also understand what happiness really is. It certainly has nothing to do with money or any material goods.

I'm glad I found it again.

Sharon J xx

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No Spring Chicken

Graphic: CarolitaJohnson

I woke this morning at about 6.30 to a deep blue sky, tinted golden in the east as the sun rose across the roof of the railway works that’s Crewe's only real claim to fame. Not the most picturesque view, granted, but watching the sky turn to a dazzling blue as the sun rose higher as I listened to the birds sing from the branches of the trees in the street brought a smile to my face. No matter where you are, if you look for it, nature has given us beauty to be enjoyed.

Sadly, the weather soon started to change as thick grey clouds rolled in from the north, laying themselves like an old feather duvet over the gardens and rooftops. A cold breeze picked up and crept in through the open window; I pulled my own feather duvet tighter around me. I was snug as a bug in a rug.

These changes came about quickly and for some reason they got me to thinking about how our own lives change.

At 47, even without my medical problems, I’m sure I wouldn’t still be able to do the things I did at 27. Even if I were physically able, would I really want to be visiting night clubs, having children, and rushing off on some new adventure at the drop of a hat? No, I wouldn’t. My priorities have changed.

Each age holds its own doors of opportunity open and as one shuts, another opens offering new and different possibilities. Our values change as we grow and learn, as do our needs, and our knowledge of life, both human and otherwise, gives us a greater depth of understanding.

But I look around and see so many people – women, mostly - fighting desperately against the natural cycle of life. They’re afraid of getting older. They try dressing trendy even though it’s obvious to all and sundry that they really don’t have a clue, they have their hair cut in the latest styles, they wear far too much make up in a bid to hide the lines and wrinkles that are nature’s statement of experience, dance to the latest music embarrassing everybody but themselves, and now they’re even participating in extreme sports in order to prove that they’re still fit enough (and only the young are expected to be fit enough for that so they must still be young, surely?).

Isn’t it better to just grow old gracefully in the way we were meant to? Everything that Mother Nature ever developed was designed for a specific purpose and with a cycle to fit that purpose. We’re designed to grow older, draw on our wealth of experience and knowledge, teach those who come after us, and lead the way through the path we’ve helped shape. What purpose is there in continuing to strive to be one of the young forever?

Again, a lot of this can undoubtedly be blamed on our economic system; a system based on enticing us to spend as much as possible and what better target than feminine insecurities?

You won’t be a valuable member of society if you don’t look young and healthy (read: able to reproduce) so buy this cream, that cream, this hair dye, that mascara, this lipstick, have surgery, join this gym, buy, buy, BUY!

You know the score. Those ads scream at us every time we open a magazine, turn on the TV, or visit the supermarket. We can hardly do anything these days without being told we aren’t good enough unless we buy loads of crap that’s overpriced and doesn’t work. Are we really that gullible?

What’s wrong with a face that’s glowing from being in the outdoors, a body that’s fit through regular walks, and hair that’s taken on a moonlit glow?

I may not wear purple and I’ve yet to start running my stick along railings but I wear my wrinkles with pride, my tits point south and that’s fine – they did their job of feeding three children adequately when they were meant to - and when I do turn grey, I shall wear that with pride too.

Sharon J

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Home Schooling in England

Because we’ve moved around a lot – by choice I may add, not by necessity – my daughters have been to a number of schools. Some people have inferred that I’m a bad mother for dragging my kids “from pillar to post” but when asked, they’ll tell you that they’ve lived an adventurous life with lots of experiences they otherwise wouldn’t have had, met lots of people and had a whole lot of fun. Sometimes, preconceptions of how things ought to be aren’t always right. People – families – we’re all different.

Sadly, after moving back to England, both girls were badly bullied at school. No doubt because they were Scandinavian and therefore different and we all know it doesn’t take make to stand out from the crowd and become a victim. That the lads were drawn to them didn’t help; I doubt the girls liked that much.

DD1 eventually moved back to Norway to live with her dad and DD2 was miserable. I could see she was becoming depressed and a young teen shouldn’t have to live like that. After speaking to various members of staff and listening to empty promises I finally made the decision to take her out of school and give her a home education.

Plenty of people were against it; the people from the local education authority certainly were and although most friends understood and supported my decision, a few were clearly perplexed. “Drag her to school kicking and screaming – don’t let her have her own way” I was told. Well I’m sorry but I don’t treat my children that way; there’s no respect in that.

The LEA threatened me with court action for keeping her away from school but I knew my rights. The law of England and Wales states clearly that “all children of school age shall receive sufficient full-time education in school or otherwise.” They had to admit defeat; there was nothing they could do about it. I promised that they would be allowed to monitor her education to ensure that she was indeed being educated and in return they were willing to provide us with a qualified tutor who would visit DD2 for an hour, four times a week, something that was in fact very generous of them; most local authorities don’t do this.

Contrary to what some people believed, she wasn’t being lazy or just ‘trying to get her own way’. She knuckled down and got on with her work. We bought curriculum books to follow so that she’d have a chance of passing her GSCEs and eventually gain entrance to higher education, and we made up projects of our own. Our own local surroundings gave us lots of opportunities for geography and history projects; we have canals that date back to 1791; we live in a historic railway town; we have a park just a few minutes walk away with a well stocked lake (both fish and birds), a woodland walk, formal gardens and more. Lots could be learned about the environment just by walking around the town and I’m sure she learned a whole bunch of stuff that she would never have learned at school.

To our frustration, when the time came for her to sit her GCSEs, we were told that because she was home educated, she wouldn’t be allowed a mark higher than a ‘C’ as she could only sit what’s called the foundation tier rather than the higher tier. She was devastated. She’d worked hard and knew she could manage ‘A’ passes. I tried discussing it with them, practically begged them; her tutor tried talking to them (she also believed DD2 could achieve grade ‘A’) but they were adamant; that was the way things were.

She did get her ‘C’ passes in Math, English Language, and English Lit, the three exams she sat, but she wasn’t sure whether that would be good enough to get her onto the college course she wanted. Her dream was to be a photographer but for that she’d need at least two ‘B’ grade passes. We went along to the college, spoke to the head of the department and luckily, after a long chat with DD2, he said that he believed she had potential and didn’t want to see it wasted so would accept her on the course. I could have kissed him.

She’s now in her final college year and is planning to go to Uni although she is considering taking a gap year. She's very stressed at the moment, what with college, holding down a part-time job and helping me so I do understand her reasons. People also grow tired of ‘school’ and sometimes need a break. But whatever she chooses, those who insisted she’d never make anything of herself, that she was just being lazy, and so forth were definitely wrong!

Home schooling appears to be more widespread in the US than it is here but if your child is unhappy in mainstream education, maybe home education would be the better alternative. Stick to your guns and don’t let the LEA or anybody else intimidate you. Everybody doesn’t fit the standard mould (does anybody?) and only you know what’s best for your child.

Sharon J xx

I’ve never let my schooling interfere with my education ~ Mark Twain

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More information on home schooling can be found on the DirectGov website

[Photo credit: banafsh3 at Flickr.com]

Home, Not Just a House

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I’m currently in the process of redesigning my kitchen and as a result, a few people have asked me why I would bother investing time and money in a property that I do not own. The answer is simple: this is my home.

I’ve lived in 18 different houses/flats (that apartments for those of you in the US that aren’t up to speed on UK terms) since leaving the family home and several of them I’ve owned (well, the bank owned them – I paid the mortgage). One, our family built ourselves. But while they were a place where we could find shelter, feel safe and be ourselves, until they were made into a home they were still just properties regardless of whether I owned them or not. I don’t see a home as something you necessarily have to own in order to want it to fulfil your requirements and feel like the sanctuary that it should be and therefore I’m perfectly happy to invest my time and what little money I have, into transforming this house into home, a place that suits my lifestyle.

Due to my dodgy health, unless unforeseen circumstances force a change, this is the place where I’ll be spending most of my time for the next 20 or so years, at least. Doesn’t it stand to reason that I’d want it to be comfortable and practical, regardless of whose name’s on the deeds? It’s not a private let, so unless I default on the rent or start acting in a decidedly anti-social way, I have a secure tenancy here for as long as I wish. The housing association that I rent through have given me the go ahead to do more or less as I please so there’s really nothing stopping me.

It’s that old chestnut again, isn’t it? That thing about only things that you possess being of any real value to you. I don’t want to own my own house. As things are, if anything goes wrong I can pick up the phone and have the housing association’s people come round and make the necessary repairs. I don’t have to worry about buildings insurance or unforeseen problems that aren’t covered – I’ve been there before and I’d rather not have that hassle again. Ok, so the housing doesn’t always act as quickly as I’d like, but things do get done and at no cost to me. I don’t even have to mow my own front lawn, which is a bonus!

Our House
(this is an old photo so the car's long gone to the scrap heap and has been replaced by a black Renault that's now far too big for my needs. It's a motability car though and will be replaced by something smaller very soon)

Renting this house is, for me, part of keeping life simple. I don’t want a ball and chain around my neck and I’ve found that the properties I’ve previously bought have often become just that. I couldn’t just up and leave when I felt the time was right – I had to sell the house first! And to sell the house I had to make it attractive to potential buyers, which usually meant changing the way I’d decorated it, which meant throwing more money at it, which again meant I might not even be able to afford to move after all! No, even though I’m staying put this time, this is an all round better alternative for me.

I shall continue with my kitchen plans, and when that’s finished I’ll gradually go through the whole house, simplifying things so that they’re more suited to my lifestyle. Then it’ll be the garden’s turn and maybe I’ll even be able to grow a few edible bits and pieces out there if I'm feeling stronger and more capable of doing some gardening by then.

Each of us know what's best for us; no two people's circumstances are the same. We can't use our own situation as a base for judging how others should live their lives. This house is my home and I intend to love it as such.

Sharon xx

A good home must be made, not bought ~ Joyce Maynard

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