I have so many drafts saved for this blog. Even from 2019 – things I never posted. Unfinished thoughts from this summer. A hesitancy to complete something to 100% and publish it for the “whole world” to see. Mel C said something at the start of her autobiography “Who I Am” audiobook that resonated with me: “Who am I to think I’ve got something to say?” But she does have something to say, as a Sunday Times bestseller, a lot of people want to know what she’s got to say. I’m, thankfully, not a Spice Girl, but I have something to say too. In fact, I have a lot of things to say, about where I’ve been, what I’ve done, who I’ve met, feelings. And the fact that I’ve kept the drafts says to me that, I want to finish what I have to say.

So here’s something from a while ago:

For the past few weeks – actually – since the Queen died over two months ago now on 8 September, I’ve been thinking a lot about this “Life” journey we’re all on. A lot has happened this year and let’s be honest, it’s been a struggle. I got very wrapped up in my own internal, “my life is over” drama. To be fair to me, the life that I had known the past few years was over, but that’s a story for another day. The ending of a book I’m yet to write.

What fascinated me was that, when the Queen died, she was more than three times my age. I think I’ve done a lot in my years and act like setbacks are the end of the world – but can you imagine living through it all twice more? This post isn’t necessarily about the Queen, but I think the thing about her that fascinated us all was her “steadfastness”: the common comment that she was “always there”. She lived through a World War, navigated a marriage and children, the end of the Empire, more wars, the death of her dad at 25, the death of her sister and mother in the same year, and of course, being married to the same person for nearly 74 years – a lifetime in itself. There were ups and downs, tragedies, scandals. Honours, celebrations, achievements. Actually, it was a bit surprising but also refreshing to learn of the royal troubles that occurred before my time – not even the Queen is perfect, or has everything go her way. Because she’s just another human being and life doesn’t work the way we want it to all the time – and we can either resist it or work through it. Turns out, if you’re going to live for 96 years, you may as well work through it otherwise it’s going to be a long, old, uphill, never-ending struggle until you die.

The other day was Armistice Day. 11/11. I watched the new version of the film All Quiet on the Western Front and went to a Remembrance Sunday service at the local church. Going from living a long life to living a short one. It is reported that most soldiers who died in WW1 (not very optimistic numbering as Philomena Cunk humourously puts in) were 19 years of age. “For your tomorrow, we gave our today.” Are we making the most of our today? Of our tomorrow? I’m not sure most of us are.

23/11. I seem to be surrounded by people who are neither living, nor dead. Just a mere existence, waiting for something “else” to happen to them, like this life is just a first draft. The fact that I have the privilege to sit here in my room with the heating and lights on, instrumental jazz in the background, and ponder about other’s people’s motivations is not lost on me. I don’t have to work two or three jobs to pay the bills. I have no dependents or need for state support. But that being said, I did used to live in a state of stress 24/7, in a “home” with security cameras and the threat of being turfed out at any minute. I could barely survive in that toxic living/working environment, let alone thrive.

And yet somehow, I’ve always wanted more. I’ve always been an adventurer, a traveller, a striver, an achiever. Ambitious until I was too scared to fail. And evidently, not everyone is like that. So if they want to waste their days away, wishing they were doing something else but never doing anything about it, I guess that’s up to them. But to be honest, I pretty much always do what I want to do. Not really through any particular talent, I don’t think, but through stubbornness, which is perhaps the first time I’ve viewed my stubbornness with warmth. Perhaps a less provocative word would be “determined”. I am determined to do anything. And I really struggle when I share space with people who don’t share that same determination to get the most out of their lives.

I wanted to play the drums, so I played the drums. I wanted to go to music college, so I did. I wanted to read books, so I read loads. I wanted to go to Borneo with Uni, so I did. I wanted to volunteer and get a particular job, so I did. I wanted to go travelling, so I did. I wanted to go skydiving and paragliding and scuba diving and paintballing and running and swimming and plane-flying, so I did. I wanted a motorbike, so I got one. Now I might do a PhD, if I want to. Of course, available finances are a big factor in all of these things and luckily I’m pretty frugal so I get to spend my money on the fun things. Even as a kid, my parents used to laugh at the way that I would have cash tucked away in all sorts of boxes and drawers and envelopes. I still do. Money itself is considered a vulgar topic though, too; it divides the haves and the have-nots. Thankfully, I’ve always believed I’ll have enough to support myself and so far, I always have.

I have a friend who works three jobs. She’s awesome. The kindest, most generous and down-to-earth person you can imagine. She’s had life very tough and yet always seems to come out on top, eventually. I wonder if it’s because she knows her worth. That she won’t settle for being devalued anymore. I wonder how much of our life experiences are orchestrated by the amount of value we hold for ourselves. Probably… all of it. If you don’t think you’re worth much, you’re not going to believe you’re worth any more, let alone try for anything better. I see it all the time. It’s pretty sad.

I’ve been on anti-depressants for a few months now. Most of this year, I’ve wondered why I’m here. What’s the point. But the process of slowly emerging from that dusty, stony pit, and not for the first time in my life, just makes me realise: “Damn, I didn’t think I was going to survive this year. But I did. So now I have this opportunity, I may as well do what I want with it. Make something of it.” No one else is going to direct my life for me but I am forever grateful for the amazing friends who have entered my life, not by coincidence but by some divine intervention I’m sure, and make it a better place to be. I am steered into a better place by them and without knowing it, they give me the confidence to take control of my own life. I know that they deserve a great life, and apparently I do too.

People always sound envious when I tell them about my travels: roadtrippin’ California, ancient Rome, Guinness in Dublin, heritage in Slovakia, Everest Base Camp in Nepal, birthday at the Taj Mahal, backpacking for years in Australia. But none of that is hard to do, really. It’s just taking the first step, the first decision, to do it. Everything else then falls into place. What if I live to 96 years old like the Queen? That’s a lot more Monday mornings and Friday afternoons, Christmasses and birthdays and Halloweens to have. Where do you want to spend them? Doing what? With who? Just taking the time to answer these few simple questions could change your day-to-day and in the end, these days form your whole life.

If we can live with a little bit more hope and peace, ambition, desire, humour and self-belief, we might be a little bit happier. And that can have a huge knock-on effect. //Thank you.x