Tag Archives: life

Day 21: Making Decisions Part 2

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 21’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

My wrist is finally better!

Actually, it was better two days ago but I chose not to write. Why? Because I had forced myself to write on:

Day 18: Today I am cheating!

 Day 19: Pain Prohibits Progress… Or does it? Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.

Day 20: Today, I am sharing an unpublished comedy short film, (it still hurts to type).

It had been so painful, whimpering as I typed. Pitiful! I had pushed myself too far, so when I was able to type I didn’t want to. I resented my blog. I felt it had a hold on me forcing me to do things I didn’t want to do. 

So I made a decision…

Don’t write.

Sounds simple doesn’t it?

Far from it. When we make a decision, we get so caught up in the minutiae that we can’t see the wood for the trees. I was beating myself up that I was failing at my goal challenge

I felt deflated, the novelty had worn off, not only mine but that of my readers. The views had plummeted. I thought, “My writing must be getting worse not better. It’s just boring, no one wants to read it”

Therefore, I decided – to reevaluate my goal.

‘My’ is the important word here. The challenge I set myself was exactly that. My challenge. I had decided it. Therefore, I can change it.

Altering a goal doesn’t mean you have failed. It means the original outcome, not doubtcome – Day 17: Making Decisions. Part 1 has not turned out the way you wanted. So what? Change it. 

I had to decide.

Do I…

  1. Throw in the towel. It was a bad idea, anyway.
  2. Keep pushing myself to do it every day, just make them shorter or cheat
  3. Do less of them 

When making a decision, the first thing to do is establish your options. Then weigh up the pros and cons. Then pick one. If possible, sleep on it. You will sleep better because you have made a decision. In the morning, if it still feels right, you can take action towards it.

Just because you have made a decision doesn’t mean you have to act on it immediately. Unless, of course, it is a life or death situation. Sit with it for a while, discuss it with friends or family. Then decide what course of action to take.

My husband has a saying, “What’s the worst that can happen?” It is a useful way to consider your options and make a decision. If there aren’t serious consequences to your choice, then make it there and then. You can always change your mind later. Another one of his favourite sayings, “What’s the point of having a mind if you can’t change it?” This takes the pressure off. Very few decisions are life threatening, so don’t overthink them. However, be wary of this one though, it can cause you to not taking responsibility for your actions. That’s an entirely different thing.

So what did I decide and how did I do it? I looked at my options.

  1. Throw in the towel. It was a bad idea, anyway. 

I very nearly chose this one. When it comes to writing I lack confidence. I worry people will think it’s rubbish. If I stopped my blog it would take away all the pressure I had put on myself. My writing won’t be rejected, therefore, nor will I. 

I needed to go back to the beginning and remind myself why I had set this challenge. I want to write a book about what I have been through. I want to help people see there is hope when they believe they can’t take anymore.

One I had reminded myself why. The decision was easy. I am not giving up. My motivation to tell my story is strong enough to out way my fear or rejection. A, was kicked into touch.

  • Keep pushing myself to do it every day, just make them shorter or cheat. 

My friends say they can count on me because I always do what I say I am going to. I take pride in that. I am reliable. I said I would write and post every day. If I don’t, I am going back on my word. That doesn’t sit well with me. I was stuck on this for a while. Then I thought about my life coaching training Day 11: Do you think you are stupid?

I flipped the way I was thinking about it. Helping others is an integral part of me. Many of you are supporting me by reading my blog. Thank you to all of you. But is reading it every day too much for you? Do you see the email come in and think? “I want to support Liz, but I just can’t do it every day. I have so many other things to do.” When I thought I might be putting too much pressure on you, my decision was easy. Kick B into touch.

This leaves c) Do less of them 

Having worked through the pros and cons of A and B, C was the outright winner. A win win result is something I strive for in all aspects of life. I would still be heading towards my goal of developing a writing style and learning how to get my thoughts and feelings across to others. However, there would be a lot less pressure on me, to achieve something daily and you, to support me daily.

So that is what I am going to do. Less. I have spent years working towards doing less. I am renowned for giving myself too much to do. Does this mean I am finally learning? I hope so.

From now on, I will write at least 300 words 6 times a week (giving myself a day off, I am not very good at that either) but I will only post a blog 3 times a week. 

Let’s see how my decision pans out.

I feel this post rambles on a bit, so I apologise. However, the part of my challenge that I will not be changing is the not editing part, for now at least. Just write and post. If I deliberate too much about the content, there is a chance, I will post nothing and dwell over my writing too much.

I hope that you have gained something from me explaining my process for decision making. If so, please let me know by leaving a comment.

I would be interested to know how you feel about my decision. Has it taken the pressure off you, too?


Have a great day
If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 19: Pain Prohibits Progress or does it? Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.

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I didn’t sleep well last night. My painful wrist kept me awake. Frustration leaked from my body, along with the sweat from both pain and humidity, not only because I thought I would endure another day of discomfort but also because it meant, yet again, I wouldn’t write Making Decisions Part 2 Day 17: Making Decisions. Part 1

If I allowed it, this feeling would have consumed me. Filled me with self-pity. Poor me. Why me? Just when I had recovered from yet another surgery, the pain was back to prohibit my progress. I can’t type. I can’t keep up with my challenge

Instead, I adopted the approach given by Clint Eastwood as Sergeant Thomas Highway in Heartbreak Ridge (a great movie).

Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.

I wanted to post something in my blog. The pain was too much.

Improvise.

Yesterday and today, I have used previous blogs relating to pain. 

Today’s: Pain ends relationships and lives

Adapt.

Modifying my current blog posts enabled me to provide content without writing it there and then.

Overcome.

I achieved my goal for today in a completely different way than I had planned. Guess what? That’s okay. Plans change. Roll with the waves. As long as you get there in the end, does it really matter what path you took?

Have a great day. If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 15: “I carried a watermelon.”

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 15’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

“I carried a watermelon.” Instantly, without hesitation, a chuckle reverberated in my throat. A grin spread across my mouth, and a myriad of memories flooded my mind.

Dirty Dancing. What a classic. 

(Sorry, I don’t have a picture of me carrying a watermelon!)

I am clearly still on a high from Day 14: I love dancing with my husband

My son-in-law, Chris, said it as he wandered off to get some watermelon for my grandson. Incredible how a simple phrase can have such an effect on you.

My family uses lines from films as a national pastime. Very few conversations escape the phenomenon. My sister and I are fiendish participants.

A few years ago, I bought tickets for Jess and me to see Dirty Dancing in London. It was superb. We had a fabulous time. The atmosphere was electric. Everyone in the auditorium was waiting to hear their favourite line.

Mine: “Nobody puts Baby in the corner.” It crops up all the time at home.

Our journey home was just as exhilarating. In London’s version of a Thai Tuk Tuk, we wondered if our last memories would be of the ‘jump’ in Dirty Dancing or one of our own being catapulted from the vehicle at high speed. Fortunately, we made it back to the hotel in one piece- although I am not entirely sure how.

I struggle to watch it now, though. Patrick Swayze was perfect for the role and Sam in Ghost. I watched it recently. As I said in Day 3: Crying makes you feel better. It somehow seemed wrong to watch it now that he is dead. I wonder if he watches over his wife, whom he so dearly loved, the way he watched over Demi Moore in the movie.

Why do we feel such a loss when someone we have never met dies? Especially an actor, because we rarely see them for who they really are. Or do we? 

As an actor myself, I draw on my own experiences to create my characters. There is always a piece of me somewhere inside the person I portray. Does that mean the viewer can see me underneath my façade? I believe we have an insight into the person behind the character and maybe that’s why we feel their loss. 

What do you think?

Murray and I have a favourite line. The brilliant, and also sadly dead, James Gandolfini in The Mexican. “When two people love each other – Really… Love each other – but they just can’t get it together, when do you get to that point where enough is enough?”

Julia Roberts replies in a convoluted fashion, saying nothing profound – women, we overthink everything!

Brad, short and simple – “Never”

For us, it says it all. It cements the longevity of a relationship. Regardless of what you go through, if you “love each other – Really…Love each other” you never give up. I’m not saying it’s easy. Murray and I both get driven demented by the other. But when the shit hits the fan and there is something major to contend with. We both know the only person we want by our side is our other half.

At times, it feels as though we are one. I love it when you know what the other is thinking. You say the same thing at the same time. You glance across a crowded room and have a conversation without saying a word.

That’s what that line is all about. The simple knowing that you are meant to be together. 

Do you have a favourite line from a film? If so, please tell me in the comments box.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 11: Do you think you are stupid?

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 11’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

Besides, the daily routines I mentioned on Day 7 ‘Finding the time’. I also do the NYT games. Wordle, connections, mini crossword and letterbox. I was extremely hesitant to start these games because I thought I wouldn’t be able to do them. The crossword, in particular. Why? Because I doubt my intelligence. I chose not to say “because I am stupid”. Finally, I have worked out I am not. For most of my life, I thought I was.

My brother and sister (Bonjour) are incredibly smart, not just academically either. They are both musically gifted too. Growing up in the shadow of these two left me feeling less than adequate. I remember once my grandma saying, “Oh yes, you’re the one who can’t do maths.” She meant nothing by it. For her, it was a factual statement. It not only crushed me, but stayed with me throughout my entire childhood. Well, let’s be honest, probably until I was in my forties.

I think a lot of things stayed with me until my forties. Until I hit rock bottom. When the only options were a) to end it all, b) quit fucking about and get my shit together. Fortunately, I chose b. It wasn’t easy, but I have never regretted it.

Thinking you are stupid holds you back in every aspect of your life. It certainly did for me. Afraid to do things because I wouldn’t be able to. Because I’m stupid. My stupidity embarrassed me. Interestingly, though. I didn’t view other people like that. If someone couldn’t do something I would always say, “well, we can’t do everything, some people are better at things than others”. I have always seen the potential in others. I have struggled to see mine.

As I have aged, I have begun to really dislike the word stupid. It is paralysing. It stops people in their tracks. All these talents, buried beneath the surface, never to materialize because of how we view ourselves. It is devastating. 

I made steps in the right direction in my thirties when I studied to be a life coach. I have studied more since leaving education than I did when I was there. Becoming a life coach wasn’t a lifelong plan (excuse the pun). In a way, it chose me. I had just finished having 6 weeks of therapy. I felt on top of the world. I don’t remember having felt that good before. I was scared to lose it. I told my husband, “I want to do something that maintains this feeling”. A couple of days later, he produced the details of a life coach course. We decided this would be a good idea. 

Before you learned to coach others, the course challenged your limiting beliefs. I had never heard that phrase. It was a whole new experience for me. One that changed my life forever. For the better. It taught me how to change the way I viewed things. My abilities primarily. How to turn sentences around from negative to positive to boost my self-belief. For instance, I achieved grade three in the piano. Until then, I had always said, “I only got to grade three”. Following the guidelines of the course, I changed the sentence to “I achieved grade three in the piano. ” That made it sound much better. An accomplishment. An achievement. I cannot tell you how many times, before taking the course, I had said, “I haven’t achieved anything.” As time went on, my list became extensive. I finally understood that not only had I achieved a great deal. I was not stupid. That course was worth its weight in gold. 

If you think you are stupid, I implore you to try that exercise. Notice when you say something derogatory about yourself. Reframe the sentence using only the facts. Absorb that information. Then congratulate yourself on your achievement.

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Before I go, here is another example. When I was thirty-two, a group of us went to the Alps to climb Mont Blanc. We didn’t. On the way down from Aiguilles du Tour, 3544m high, I was too slow because of knee pain. The guide told me I couldn’t attempt Mont Blanc because it would put our lives at risk. From then on, I said to people, “I only managed to climb Aiguilles du Tour.” After doing the course, I said, “I climbed Aiguilles Du Tour.” After a while, that sank in. Bloody hell, Liz, that is so cool. Other than the people in our group, I didn’t know anyone else that had done that. What an achievement!


If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 10 – Seventeen – Part 2

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 10’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

Back at my desk, this time, it is early morning, six am. I am an early bird, following in my father’s footsteps. A farmer. The early bird catches the worm and all that. Dad has always told me, “The best weather is in the morning.” In England, that is often the case, but not so much in Barbados, where I am currently. Torrential rain is the standard morning routine. On a good day, that clears the air and the way for a good day. Of late, it has rained on and off all day.

Before I digress. I will start part 2. I finished yesterday’s post saying I would tell you why my children and I all had ‘Carpe Diem’ tattoos. Day 9

Already, I am swallowing hard and sweating, my palms in particular.

A quick note: this will be a concise version. The aim of my challenge is to write every day, as opposed to give you in-depth versions of events. That will come when I write my book. It will also allow me to ’embrace the nettle’ Day 8 gradually so as not to have another mental breakdown.

The date: 11th July 2017. My son’s 19th birthday. He was not interested. He was broken, his heart shattered, the splinters of which penetrated my soul every time I looked at him. It shouldn’t be this way. How is it right that I still have my father and my children don’t? Along with feeling my children’s pain, guilt creeps in. Despite several attempts to block it. Despite my logical mind saying it was not my fault. It latched itself to me like the tentacles of an octopus. It wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

It had only been a few weeks since my daughter and I held Bruce’s hand as he took his final breath. Surrounded by many family members. I swear we were all holding our breath in time with Bruce. The gaps between breaths became painfully long. The breaths themselves laboured and hoarse. In the silence, we wondered if we had just witnessed his final breath, relieving him, in our hearts we wanted that for him. Stop the pain. At the same time, our ears desperately searching for another breath to know he hadn’t left us forever. The conflict inside me was pitiful. The inevitable came. The silence was drowned by the cascade of tears. 

Death is so final.

The morning of the 11th came. It was unavoidable. One day follows the previous; that’s the way it goes. What was I going to do? How could I alleviate the sadness? I couldn’t. Then I had an idea. Fortunately, during the month preceding this day, my children and I had built a bond never to be broken. “Let’s cement it,” I thought. Let’s become one in a way that will always not only join us but also honour the man whose death had left us empty. My son loves tattoos. it seemed the obvious answer. I love the phrase “carpe Diem’ at school I had enjoyed Latin. I even won the Latin prize once. If only they had known at that stage that I would walk out of my o’level mock exam after having written only my name, never to attend another Latin lesson in my life. They probably would have thought twice.

For me, ‘Carpe Diem’ says it all. ‘Seize the day’; essentially, that is all you have. You can only live now, not in the future, not in the past. I decided I would arrange for the three of us to have a tatto done that day, I typed out Carpe Diem in a selection of fonts and then went to my daughter to ask her thoughts on both my idea and the best style. She agreed with me that it was a good way forward. We chose the font we liked with the intention of allowing my son the final choice.

Together, we went to his room. The piece of paper held tight in my shaking hand. He agreed. I could feel the relief fill my body. Something good was going to come from this day. We got an appointment. Took our turns. The kids ridiculed me for having my first tattoo but, at the same time, lovingly showed concern for the pain I may be enduring as the tattoo was being injected into scar tissue. It wasn’t painful. How could it be when I had witnessed one of the strongest people I know fade to nothing, his body infested with pain.

We left the parlour knowing no matter what happened from then on, we were united. We still are.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 7: Finding the time

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How is it that we are forever searching for more time?

I am currently on holiday; time should be plentiful. And yet, I have done it again, chosen to fit too many things into my day. Something I am renowned for. Every year on our holiday, I have grand ideas about starting new daily regimes. This challenge is one of them. I have also added exercising, face yoga (yes, I have succumbed), reading, sunbathing and swimming. I also have a long teeth brushing routine because when I was suicidal, I drank a lot of alcohol and didn’t brush my teeth. Years later, when I finally went to the dentist, he said I had bad gum disease and was at risk of my teeth falling out. The only way to resolve this was to use interdental brushes, and clean every tooth individually, this takes about 10 – 15 minutes, that’s not long, I hear you cry. However, I have to wait an hour after eating before I can do it so as not to soften the enamel. Invariably, if I don’t do it before I eat breakfast, it doesn’t get done. I tend to eat every couple of hours and once I have had my first meal, I forget to brush my teeth because the rest of daily life takes over.

I was managing to do all these things until our family came to stay: three adults and a one-year-old. Therein lies the rub. Now, I want to have time with them and do my daily routine. For any of you who have young grandchildren, you will know how much time they consume. They are so innocent, fascinating and inspiring that you can spend hours watching and interacting with them. Experience all the joy, and then you can hand them back (an added benefit to being a grandparent). My husband and I were happy not to eat an evening meal, instead having a big late lunch and snacks in the evening. Now, with a family in tow, my maternal instincts have kicked in, and I want to provide lovely meals for them and ensure everyone is fed and watered. We want to take them to all the places we love and absorb their joy, which in turn reignites ours. We want to play games with them and chat. All of these things take up time. So, how I can I fit in the other things I want to do?

I am full of emotions, such as joy, excitement, frustration, guilt, and gratitude. I am grieving lost time. I appreciate that may appear extreme, but it is a genuine human feeling that can wreak havoc with our minds. Does that make me sound selfish? That’s where the guilt comes in. For what it’s worth, I am not selfish, it is one of my problems, I am too selfless. I put other people’s wants and needs ahead of my own. Sometimes, so much so that I don’t know what I want and need.

As I write this, my grandson has started to cry. Already my stomack has knotted, I want to come to the rescue, I want to help. Make the problem go away for my daughter. But if I leave my laptop, that in itself, will create a problem of my own. I will not achieve my writing for today. Resulting in a surge of emotions all over again.

Where does my constant desire to come to the rescue come from? Did I feel no one came to rescue me from boarding school, so I have spent my life wanting to do for others what wasn’t done for me? Taking their pain away because mine was crucifying? I think that is a strong possibility. 

Can’t do this, going to help my daughter. I’ll be back.

I’m back. I was only a couple of minutes. They are trying to build his confidence in the water. I am not needed. Is this something else I crave – to be needed? I imagine so. It’s a fairly common human feeling. It helps build your confidence and self-worth. On the flip side, if you offer help and it’s not needed, it can lead to feelings of rejection and/or inadequacy.

I have no definitive answers. What I do know is that these emotions and feelings need to be acknowledged and attended to.

Wish me luck.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment. If you make a comment, please explain what it was that made you feel that way.

Thanks, Liz

If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 6 of what? Have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 6 – Do you die in your dreams?

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I woke up with a jolt this morning, just when I was about to be told how I had died. Apparently, I, and another woman, had died at the same time, 06.30am but how or why, I have no idea. I felt so disturbed when I woke up. So many thoughts running through my head. The strongest of which, I don’t want to die.

How reassuring after all the years I had spent wanting to die. The dream, unsurprisingly, was strange. It began with me waking up, having, seemingly, been asleep for a long time. People were irritated with me, unkind to me. At the beginning of the dream I didn’t now I was dead, then gradully i noticed, some people could see me and some couldn’t. One woman came up to me all friendly, smiling and waving saying “Oh you’re here too.” That was when I realised.

I started talking to the young lady whose mother had died, she had been left in charge and responsible for a lot of money. She was concerned about what her boyfriend was going to do. Straight away, I said, “How can I help, am I stuck here until I find a solution?”

Isn’t that what so much of life is all about, being stuck until we find a solution?

It is strange that I remembered this dream. I rarely remember dreams. My husband remembers so many of his, he gets up and regales yet another entirely random story that his brain has concoted throughout the night. Me – nothing.

I used to have night terrors. They were so bad. I say, “I used to.” I still get them but not very often. I wake up screaming, usually “oh my God” over and over. Scares the shit out of Murray. If I am lucky, he catches me before I get that bad, gently rubs me saying “it’s ok, I’m here”. And it stops, leaving my heart thumping and my head scrambled.

One night, years ago, I was screaming so loudly, it woke up all three of our children, poor things all ran into our bedroom very distressed, panicked and scared. They thought we were being attacked. Thank god we weren’t, because they would have been attacked too. 

One of terrors was different from the others, I was dreaming I was being buried alive in a coffin, that bit was the same as the others, (after a while I decided I felt trapped in life and set about resolving that, which helped enormously). This time I didn’t wake up screaming. Instead, I walked to our bedroom door but I couldn’t open it, I am guessing this was me trying to get out of my coffin, I went back to bed. Murray asked if I was ok, I replied “I can’t think of anyone else I want to die with.” and promptly went back to sleep.

The strange thing about my dream last night, well clearly, there were a lot of strange things but, one of them was, while I was having the dream, I was thinking like me, I was trying to figure out how I could help this young lady, take all her problems away. What can I fix before I go. I wasn’t thinking about me, Oh god I’m dead, the things I will miss out on, what I wanted to do, feeling sorry for myself. None of that crossed my mind. I live to help people and I guess I will still be doing that on my death bed.

I knew someone else like that. Who did that. My ex husband, Bruce, the father of my children, died of cancer in 2017, the most horrifci time of my life. Bruce was one of kindest most generous, loving people I had ever met. When he was in the hospice, he was surrounded by his family, he came from a large family, there were so many of us that a lot of us had to stand. He was lying there, a shadow of the man he used to be, pale, thin and weak. One of the last things he ever said, “I feel so sorry for the other people here, they haven’t got as many visitors as me” He was dying and still thinking of others, what an honourable human being he was. An example for us all. Such a waste of a life.

Which confirms all that I feel every day now, I no longer want to die. I want to live, I want to help people, take away their pain, show them life can be better. I am still working out how best I can do this. Hopefully writing and posting every day is the beginning.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment. If you make a comment, please explain what it was that made you feel that way.

Thanks, Liz

If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 6 of what? Have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 3 – Crying

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 3 of what?), have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

I woke up this morning shiting myself. What the bloody hell have you done Liz? Talk about putting pressure on yourself. Writing everyday was hard enough but putting it out there for the world to see – nutter!

Hey ho, me and my decisions. I am still excited to see where this takes me, as well as terrified.

Not only was I shitting myself this morning, I was also a little hungover. Last night, Murray, my husband, Holly, my step daughter and I went out to dinner. The table was booked for 7pm so we left early to go to a local bar first, only to find it was shut. We had forgotten it was a bank holiday so most places on the island were closed. We had also forgotten we were going out to dinner. Fotunately, they sent us an email reminder. We thought it was tonight. Funny isn’t it when you are on holiday that your mind turns to mush and you have no idea what day it is. Every day is a wekend, yay!

On arrival to the restaurant, very early that is, we were greeted by less than friendly reception staff. I started to explain why we were early, they stopped me dead and said, “You’re table is ready.” “Oh,” I thought, “no time for chit chat then, sorry to have inconvenienced you.” Both ladies had expressionless faces and stood so rigid I thought perhaps they had both been afflicted with poles up their arses. I felt like saying, “Don’t worry about dinner, it’s clearly just our money you’re after, here just take my credit card and be done with it.” I thought better of it.

Which was the sensible option. We went on to have a delicious meal, tuna tartare and fillet steak, cooked beautifully. Accompanied by some decadent red wine, Murray is a bit of a wine connoisseur. Originally, we had planned on sitting on the roof top terrace for an after dinner whisky but decided against it because a) it was raining, b) we didn’t want to give them any more of our money and c) we had whisky back at the villa, for free, well not entirely, of course, we had paid for it at the airport. We weren’t planning on drinking all the owners spirits. Although that’s not a bad idea.

Back at home, I love how we adopt that expression when we are on holiday, clearly it is not our home and we have only been here for a week but it feels welcoming and reassuring so it feels right to call it home. We had a glass of wine first as it was only 8.30pm, last of the dirty stop outs, and we still had enough sense to not start the whisky at that stage. We were sat on the decking, listening to music, Cold Play, Death and all of his Friends. We were all jigging about, looked like we were having heart attacks but we were enjoying ourselves. Saying how much we loved the instrumental building in intensity with the final crescendo. At that exact moment the heavens opened and the downpour was sensational. We decided that who ever lives upstairs was in agreement with us. 

Then, for some absurd reason we decided to start playing songs that made us cry. Who chooses to do that (secretly, I bet you do). So there we are, all howling, priceless, what muppets. We all felt much better after that and put some happy tunes on. Funny isn’t it how cryning makes you feel so much better. Like your stresses and strains have left you. Albeit temporarily, until you see your reflection in the mirror that is and you notice your eyes are all red and blotchy and your face has swollen to the size of a footaball, which makes you start all over again. Aside from that, it’s great.

I am not known for crying, during my acting training this was the thing I struggled with most, it took 8 months to master it. All thanks to my amazing teachers in LA, Dianne and Lorrie Hull. I was elated, I had done it. Opened the flood gates that is. Bloody hell, I started crying at everything. I remember walking into Murray’s office and saying to him and Clarky, his office manager, I hate calling her that as she has worked for Murray for twenty years, is one of my best friends and is part of the family but at the end of the day that is her job tite. Where was I? Oh yes, I walked into the office having come through from the kitchen, where I had been bawling my eyes out, and announced “This bloody acting, I can’t stop crying” If only I had known what was coming. At that time, I thought I was crying a lot but then I became clinically depressed, oh dear, even Noahs ark wasn’t going to stop me from drowning.

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Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7