Am I a dreamer

I saw this wonderful sign today and it got me thinking. 

Am I dreaming or taking action? 

Which of these people are you?

On Starting

As Mark Twain once said, 'Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow.”

Nope, that isn’t what I was looking for. Let’s try Pablo Picasso’s version, “Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone.”

Ok, that’s a tad morbid, but it’s more the sentiment I was after.

You see, I have some good people in my life who are out in the world following their dreams. They are my inspiration to try and follow mine.

One friend gave up his well paid, well respected job as an accountant to train as a pilot. Now he’s up there flying his Boeings.

Another friend quit her job in London to travel America and write her book. She’s soon to be a published author.

So you see. Dreams do come true.

But the thing was, they didn’t sit around waiting for lady luck to knock on their door. They started. They shifted from the static to the active. They knew that the only way things would happen was if they initiated them.

So what’s your dream? And more importantly, what on earth are you doing to make it happen?

If your dream is big, then teachers, career advisers and assorted know-it-alls will try to put you off. Do not to listen to them. Follow it. Be ready for the many setbacks and keep the faith.

I dream of being a writer. So I’m writing. I don’t know where this path will lead, but I have started.

I’m pretty confident that it’s impossible to overstate the importance of starting.

You should start too. Whatever it is you want to do, start it. Stop putting it off, and start in some small way.

Today.

And leave the ironing. I’m sure Picasso would agree that you can die with that left undone.

A public service announcement about getting sacked

My brother got fired last week. Don’t worry he consented to me publishing it here on the tinterweb - I did ask.

He hated his job. It really was a dreadful job at a dreadful place. I won’t say where, just in case they want to sue me for libel. They would probably try, what with them being so dreadful. And as you know, I’ve got no money to pay the lawyers bill.

He often talked of resigning, but he had no other job to go to – and surely a small salary where the price is misery is better than no job or money at all?

I’m not so sure.

I have a few friends whose jobs are genuinely grinding them down.

Things are not going well. They wake up in the night worried sick. The thought of work is making them physically ill.

Sound familiar?

Ok, well how about you imagine that you were fired last week. You have no choice but to accept it – so you may as well see it a good thing.

You hated your situation and this has forced change to happen.

What a wonderful opportunity.

Breathe a sigh of relief – they literally LET YOU GO.

Genuinely – perhaps getting fired is the best thing that can happen to you?

Perhaps it means that you are at odds with the company. I told my brother to rejoice. Clearly he is not moronic enough to be employed by morons.

Now I know that people have bills to pay and kids to feed and we are in a recession - so please do not think that I am in any way making light of losing your job. But I am talking here about those jobs that are causing people genuine misery, depression, or self doubt.

I reckon that if you were fired you’d find a way. If I was fired from my job tomorrow I can think of ways (all legal) that I could make the money to pay this month’s rent.

Luckily I do not hate my job. But if I did, if I really hated it...

If people constantly reject your ideas and what you have to offer – then you should leave. And if they fire you – then thank them.

They've inadvertently done you a favour.

Ps. if anyone has any jobs in the West Midlands region where misery, depression and self loathing are not key criteria of the role, please message my brother.

The art of blagging

I hope you’ll forgive me a quick unplanned interlude.

In January I decided to follow my dream to be a writer. I had always said it was what I  wanted to do, but then it struck me one cold day in January that I wasn’t really doing a lot about it. Was I even writing anything?

And so I started writing on the blog. People enjoyed it. They emailed me. They were reading. They said encouraging things. I was encouraged. Perhaps I could do this after all.

In February I set about looking for freelance writing jobs on the internet. I found an American website looking for contributors on a financial theme. I doctored a post from this very blog and emailed it off to them. I told them I was a freelance writer. 

They hired me as a freelance writer.

The first article they asked me to write was on ‘The 5 US Cities with the worst credit card debt.’ I didn’t have a bloody clue. I almost said I couldn’t do it. For some reason I emailed back ‘no worries.’ I did a lot of googling. And when I sent the article, they said ‘thanks’ and paid me. 

I was not found out as a fraud.

Am I being paid a lot? No. Could I quit my job and do this full time? No. Am I a published writer? You bet your life I am.

Tonight I have written an article for Yahoo Finance. The pay is rubbish. But I don’t care.

The day I decided that I was going to do something about being a writer, things started to happen. Until that moment nothing had happened. It’s not rocket science.

Whatever you want to do, just start doing it. Pretend you are already it. Shockingly, people will not ask too many questions.

I don’t know what will happen with the writing. To be honest, I’m not that worried. I wanted to be a writer, and by my definition of being a writer, I already am.

So what am I going to put my mind to next?

Be nice

I have often thought that kindness was underrated. I’m sure it was a lesson taught at Primary School. ‘Be kind to other people’. Back then kindness meant not pushing in, not pinching, and at my rather rough school, not carrying a weapon.

Now, as an adult, I value kindness over almost everything else. I am quite confident that a great deal of the problems in the world could be solved if a dose of kindness was injected.

We sort of expect our friends and family to be kind to us. But when we are befriended in misfortune by people we have never in our lives seen before, well, this is the most striking manifestation of kindness there is.

The other evening, after a real shocker at work that day, I went to the gym, against all of my desperate desires to go home and crawl into my bed. Pleased with myself I staggered (it’d been body pump) home, only to arrive on my doorstep, in my stinking gym kit, sans house-keys. Sitting on my doorstep it started to rain. I was now wearing a damp gym kit with my suit jacket on for shelter and a 1980’s aerobics - style headband. My sense of humour was failing, and the universe was surely having a bloody good laugh.

At that moment, I could have done with a kind passer by. One woman passed by and looked at me strangely. I live in the posh end of town – people do not tend to loiter in doorways. There is something bloody awful about being locked out of your home, and this sneering passer by was no Good Samaritan.

The last time I was locked out, I’m glad to report that a kindly couple did more than sneer. 

I was in New Zealand a few years back and living in a campervan. In my rose-tinted memory this was a bohemian and freeing experience. If I really think hard though, the reality was ice on the inside of the windows every morning and a fair amount of wee-ing in bushes.

But it was, for that period of time, my home. And one day, when my boyfriend ‘misplaced’ the van keys, I was pretty much homeless in a foreign land. I’d like to say I was calm and collected about the whole matter, but I’m pretty sure that I went relatively mental. My irritation was made even worse by the fact that I could see the spare set of keys through the window. I didn’t cry, but I may well have kicked the wheel. No doubt all this achieved was a sore foot.

A couple from Austria, or Holland, or somewhere European, discovered me on the roadside kicking the crap out of the tyres and my other half trying (and failing) to break into our own van. After explaining that the spare set of keys was helpfully locked inside, they offered to call their roadside assistance and pretend the van was theirs.  This was almost certainly against their policy, but they seemed un-phased by this unlawful and reckless behaviour. What mavericks they were.

They waited with us for a number of hours until the recovery man arrived so that they could show their membership card and keep up the pretence. Being British we endlessly apologised for the inconvenience we were causing them. ‘It was no problem’ they genuinely assured.  The recovery man commented in passing that the van registration was rather different from the one he had in his files. Very kindly he did not mention this glaringly obvious point again, and with the skill of a carjacker and the assistance of a large coathanger, he broke into our van.

 The couple would not accept anything for their trouble. To them, it genuinely was not a problem. Of course the only thing to do was to let us illegally use their roadside cover policy and offer us shelter in their car for the hours we waited. Of course.  They saved us several hundreds of dollars in locksmiths, and no doubt one or two rows.

Obviously I have never seen them again, but I have come to think of them as half mythical beings.

On reflection a lot of strangers were very kind to us on that trip. A garage gave us their emergency droplets of petrol when we had foolishly run out. A man walked several miles to return a lost hub-cap to us. Twice. Time after time we found ourselves the grateful recipients of directions offered, meals provided, lifts in cars and kindness abounding.

One day you will find yourself at the mercy of a stranger. Out of money, out of food, lost in a big city, or simply locked out of your flat. Whatever the situation, dramatic or mundane, you will be hoping that a stranger will save you.

So go forth and be kind. Give that lost looking soul directions, pay for the coffee of the guy in front who’s forgotten his wallet, ask the 80's throwback on the doorstep in the rain if she’s ok.  I guarantee that you will feel better about the world, yourself, life in general.

Kindness is contagious. Why not go out and spread it around.

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You are NOT as fat as you imagine

Today, I was reminded of a song from 1999. 


I liked it at the time. Today I listened to it again. The lyrics are below, and a link to it on youtube is  here 


In 1999 I was 16 and thought I knew everything about the world. I thought I understood this song. Today, at 27, I know I don't. But I do wear sunscreen.


Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy. 


Baz Luhrmann: Everyone's free to wear sunscreen.


If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. 

The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, 
whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.


I will dispense this advice now.


Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh nevermind,  you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. 
But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself,
and recall in a way you can’t grasp now, how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked, 
You are not as fat as you imagine.


Don’t worry about the future, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. 

The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.


Do one thing everyday that scares you.


Sing.


Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, 
don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.


Floss


Don’t waste your time on jealousy, sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind, 
the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.


Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults, 
if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.


Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.


Stretch.


Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life, 
the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, 
some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.


Get plenty of calcium.


Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.


Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, 
Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, 
Maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.

What ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either, 
Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. 
Enjoy your body, use it every way you can, don’t be afraid of it, 
or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.


Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.


Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.


Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.


Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.


Be nice to your siblings, they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.


Understand that friends come and go, but the precious few you should hold onto.
 
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, 
the more you need the people you knew when you were young.


Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard, 
Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.


Travel.


Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, 
you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young 
prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.


Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, 
Maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.


Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.


Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. 

Advice is a form of nostalgia, 
dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, 
painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.


But trust me on the sunscreen.

A message in a bottle

This was my message in a bottle. (top)

Best when chilled: as indeed we all are.

Proof that gems of wisdom can be found everywhere. Even when you're least expecting them, on the top of your lemonade.

Sunday evening blues?

My new mantra

A spot of stolen Sunday wisdom

Writing today’s post hurts. I don’t want to admit what’s happened to me. It seems so silly because this occurs to most of us eventually.

Ok, here it is (deep breath): I found my first grey hair. The horror.

Now, in these recessionary times you’re probably saying what’s the big deal about one grey hair..? Aren’t I lucky I have hair at all?

But when you’re a child, dreaming about all the ‘firsts’ in your future (first kiss, first love, first drink, first time you shave your legs), your first grey hair is not something you lie awake imagining. When the day came, there was just me, the mirror, and a bastardly grey strand protruding mockingly from my scalp.

Besides, I simply cannot afford the cost of root maintenance. 

What did I do about that hair? No, I did not pull the coarse intruder out from the roots or dye it. The hairdresser told me it was unwise to pluck it out, although google research has since revealed that it is a myth that if you pluck out grey hair then two will grow back in its place. They don’t sprout to seek revenge for the execution of their follicular comrades. 

This all got me thinking. It used to be common thought that grey hair was associated with wisdom. Perhaps this is it; perhaps now that I am old and grey I am thus wise, sage and mellow. Perhaps now I understand just what matters in life.

Of course this is nonsense.

One of my favourite writers is Nora Ephron. Funny, unable to write a boring sentence, and wise; I thought that to mark the occasion of my first grey hair it would be ‘wise’ to steal some of her actual wisdom, and share it with you all.

From Nora Ephron’s essay, What I wish I’d known.

'People have only one way to be.

Never marry a man you wouldn’t want to be divorced from.

You never know.

The plane is not going to crash.

Anything you think is wrong with your body at thirty-five you will be nostalgic for at the age of forty-five.

Write everything down.

Take more pictures.

You can order more than one dessert.

If the shoe doesn’t fit in the store, it’s never going to fit.

Whenever someone says the words ‘Our friendship is more important than this,’ watch out, because it almost never is.

Overtip.

If only one third of your clothes are mistakes, you’re ahead of the game.

There are no secrets.'

Thanks Nora. Unfortunately she doesn't have any insight into the grey matter. So I shall be wise and decide that at 27 it’s way too early for acceptance. Instead, I shall just move my fringe over a little on the other side and pretend the grey hair – that little bugger! – isn’t there.

And the winner is... An Inspirational Interlude.

Amongst the tales of teary speeches, Chanel dresses and after show parties, one story from this Oscar season rather caught my attention.

That of Tom Hooper.

In 1997 Tom Hooper was directing a UK children’s drama called Byker Grove. Yesterday he woke up as an Academy Award winner as Best Director for The Kings Speech.

I wonder whether when he was working with Ant and Dec in Newcastle's East End he thought he'd go on to win an Oscar for his work?

Tom knew he wanted to be a director from the age of 12.

His first TV series was cancelled, he didn't give up. 

Byker Grove was described by some of his peers as 'not real work'; he didn't give up.

The Kings Speech was off and on for years before it was made, he didn't give up.

My Granny has this very poster proudly displayed in her kitchen. She is 84 and going strong.  

I remember the first time I noticed the additional character in this drawing. I wondered how I had missed it so many times before.

Perhaps we could all do with following the motto of Tom Hooper, and this here frog, a little more rigorously.

Get that Friday Feeling

Today could not have come soon enough. ‘That Friday feeling’ being somewhat amplified by its also being the first pay day since, well, since a long time ago.

But ‘TFI Friday’ jokes aside, how many people are only happy at work on a Friday?

Every day, every second, life is rocketing past us at an alarming rate. I am concerned that it is going faster and faster. Remember the days when 6 summer weeks seemed like an eternity?

Perhaps life speeds up as we grow older to get us ready for take-off, if you know what I mean. 

So why, if life is rocketing by, aren’t we doing all in our power to have lives that are successful, happy, fulfilled and packed with adventure?

A friend of mine - reasoned, rational and in a well-paid professional job - emailed me this week, subject line ‘Resign?’ 

She hated her situation, woke up at 4am worried sick and was desperately miserable.

I sent her this picture. Are you happy?  

I wish I’d remembered the story of a young guy who once worked as a runner in an advertising firm. One day he said to his manager that he was leaving. When asked why, he told them ‘I’m going to be a drummer.’

The manager said to him, ‘I didn’t know you played the drums.’ He replied, ‘I don’t, but I’m going to.’

A few years later that advertising runner played in a band with Eric Clapton, and it was called Cream. The man’s name was Ginger Baker.

He changed something and, most people would agree, got the Friday Feeling.

We have a runner

A friend of mine is a primary school teacher. Every now and then a small boy in her care takes the notion to escape. He glances around and decides he has had quite enough of literacy hour, story-time and number games. He wants out. So up he stands, and off he goes.

“We have a runner,” she cries.

This inspirational little lad got me thinking.

At what age do we decide that the proper thing to do is to stick things out? Suck them up? Plainly get on with it?

I rather like Paul Arden’s books. Paul Arden was the executive creative director of one of the most creative agencies in the world. He was inspirational. He commands us to,

"Simply change your life.
The world is what you think of it.
So think of it differently and your life will change."

                                                                    Paul Arden

We all want things out of life. I want shelves full of books, a shaggy dog, and to live near the beach. We all want things, but how many of us will go out and make the sacrifices necessary to get there? How many of us are brave enough to run?

There is a point on a runway during takeoff that a plane reaches a certain speed. Once it passes this speed it has reached the point of no return. The point where the take off cannot be aborted. The plane has to take off. Or crash.

We wait for the right time without ever knowing how to define ‘right’. The simple truth is that there is never a right time. The stars don’t all suddenly line up in one neat little row to show us the way.

It’s called a leap of faith for a good reason. It’s a risk. And the outcome is far from certain. And that is why we tend to put off these life-changing decisions.

So if we want to be good, if we look around and are quite fed up of sticking it out, well maybe the answer is to create our own false ‘maximum speed’ markers in the runway.

Set it. Stick to it. And then say ‘what the hell’ and run like mad.