Living the lifestyle life

“It’s not so much the thing,” Jasmine said, with her hands cupped together, creating an empty space to show me ‘the thing’. 

“It’s the lifestyle, and what it brings.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant. I got it, but not clearly. 

“So, what do you mean?” I asked and stopped to look at her. 

“Like I don’t necessarily mind so much what the thing is, so long as the lifestyle is full of freedom, happiness and health.”

In other words, if you are seeking freedom, there could be several paths to get there and the most important thing is freedom, rather than how you get there. 

She’s right. 

Since my journey into the law of attraction began in 2009, it has turned my head towards living the life of my dreams. Sometimes, getting there isn’t easy but if you keep the North Star in sight, you’re heading the right way. 

Have you ever found you are meandering back and forth along the path towards the North Star?

That has been me. 

I joined the university in 2013, as a distraction from a difficult period in my life, thinking I could work towards becoming a dietitian and write my IVF book during the commute. 

This is a familiar story for many people, I’ve heard it. 

Then, I would get on the train, pull out my phone, begin to answer messages, maybe watch some chemistry YouTube video in preparation for the class ahead, or edit a vlogmas video on my phone. No writing was done. 

The desperation to keep paying the mortgage was a loud fear in my head. The voices chattering away, reminding me to worry. 

Nine years later and I am almost stepping into the writer life. I say almost, as I'm not sure any writers fully step into the life with confidence. There is always a little imposter syndrome, yet, we seem to have no choice but to be a writer. 

What do I mean?

We are thrown curveball after curveball until we finally throw our hands into the air and realise we have no option but to write and be a writer. I will tell you more about my curveballs, but I will keep them brief as they are negative.

My health is the biggest pathway to take me here. I have autoimmune disease and two of those are significant. 

Crohn's disease.

Ankylosing Spondylitis.

I have been trying to ignore them and carry on. But they won't let me. 

A day before I flew to Tunisia, there was another guiding light. It shone as bright as can be as I wept in the drivers seat. I couldn't drive home to pack for over half an hour. And when I did begin the journey, I realised I had some thinking to do.

"Divine timing," I nodded to myself. Having the option to write, vlog, go to Yoga, eat real food and walk in nature, I realised I would have a complete contrasting lifestyle for a few days. 

Could that be the thing?

Taking some wrong turns on your journey.

Did you ever have something take you on another path than you first imagined?

And what happened next?

Did you feel uneasy or anxious? Part of you was probably wondering about the next steps and whether should you carry on or turn back, or even just stand still. 

“Even a slow stream can’t go stagnant”

Sometimes, some moment is good. Despite the frightening aspect of being out of your comfort zone. 

Staying stuck for fear of the unknown isn’t helpful when you are hoping to grow, or experience new adventures. 

Many years ago, I made myself a promise that I would subscribe to the rat race, in order to get on a train each day, write a book on the journey, and earn some money during the daytimes. 

I still haven’t finished the book, despite the many opportunities I have ignored as I have been carried upstream and downstream on a meandering paddle board. 

“One day,” turns into never, if you don’t take action. 

Today, I sit and write this piece to reach out to you after my absence on my website. 

Many things have kept me from sharing my stories of hope and motivation and travelling through my Lusher Life. 

I’m in a dark restaurant. The colours are dark and the mood is dark. 

Kinky. 

Fifty shades. 

I hear birdsong and African drums and I stare back at the stuffed ostrich who is angry about being stuck in the middle of the brunch session. 

An innocent couple walked past me, wide-eyed and slightly afraid. What was this place?

It was definitely a little 'bit' of my yoga friend. She moved to this part of London recently and I can see why she now calls it ‘home’. 

My plan today was to come to get yoga class, with a shivasna ending with singing bowls and some meditation. 

I promised myself on my recent trip to Africa that I would pay more attention to my health and happiness. 

In fact, it was so much more than that. 

I will share that with you soon, but for now, I was back from Africa, with a new promise to myself, and on the way to London for a very special Yoga session at the Mandrake Hotel in London.

Driving past Canary Wharf, I saw people dressed in high-vis gear appear in the rearview mirror behind me. Then I saw some in front of me, carrying signs saying, “Road Closed”. What?

I was confused. Until I saw people closing the road both in front of me and behind my car too. I was stuck in between a closed road, on the Commercial Road, in London at 8.01am.

A sign fixed to a light grey lamppost ahead said,

“London Marathon - Road closures.”

I called out into the air in my car,

“Hey Siri, when is the London Marathon?” And he assured me that it is in April. This was October. But my eyes told me he was wrong. The road was definitely closing around me. I felt panic run through me and the realisation that I was not going to make it to the yoga session had me feeling sad. 

I used my voice to text, my friend, to let her know I wasn’t going to make it, to remind her that I still had her table runner in my boot from the day we spend on the sand dunes and that I missed her. 

After following my intuition and the road signs, I began the journey south, down the A2 to home. 

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” was cruising around my head as I began to think of my day ahead. I would go home, likely snooze, and probably waste the day doing things I would be able to do later in the week. My winding mind was whizzing to try and think how else I could get to The Mandrake. 

London wasn’t closed. Just some of the roads, for the marathon. I decided to drive to Welling train station, saying hello to my Nan’s old road on the way through. I found a free parking space and text my friend, 

“How do I get a train? Do I just bleep my Apple Pay through?”

“LOL, yeah, of course.” She said. 

After a little while,

three train changes, and a reason to create an Instagram reel, I reached the right tube station, got off, and took myself to a Costa for a hot chocolate. All I had with me were my car keys, phone and a £5 note. I decided to sit and watch the world, while I waited for Yoga to finish. I was devastated to miss Yoga, but at least I could see my friend.  After a while, I walked in the direction of the Mandrake, found it, walked past, felt anxious, walked back again and decided to be brave and go inside the dark hotel entrance. I had already checked I could come in with my gym stuff on and once again Alla had chuckled and said yes. 

Even so, they greeted me with, “Welcome to the Mandrake,” and invited me to sit in the reception area. 

“Can I get a tea somewhere and wait?” I asked and I was directed to the incredible restaurant to drink my fresh peppermint tea. I pulled out my phone, looked around and began to write this piece. 

The writer was back. 

New stories await amid travel adventures

Harley cried, and looked up at me with eyes like saucers. He wanted to sit on my lap. He had moved between beds and blankets all summer long. They were behind my office chair, on the floor by the wall with the fairy lights. He is a loyal research companion.

“You wanna come up mate?”

I scooped him up and sat him on my legs as if he was a toddler about to be bounced up and down. I could edit with one hand, and rest the other on the desk in front of him. He placed his paw on top of my hand and left it there for encouragement. 

 

After another thirty minutes, the email was sent. The next draft chapter was making its way to the necessary people, and I was grinning. I had improved my writing beyond recognition and even though it meant my time walking in the sunshine had been limited this summer, I was full of pride. 

I closed the laptop lid and kissed Harley on top of his head. It was time to prepare for a trip.

 

Excitement prevented me from sleeping any longer than five hours. That would do. 

Jasmine and I would use ‘list making’ as an excuse to get lunch somewhere nice, before wandering around the shops to see what we needed for our next trip. Could we call the trip a holiday? I wasn’t sure. They were always ‘work’, but the kind of work you could frequently do without any thought of complaining. We had big plans. 

Facebook housed a group of people who had already been to the resort. This was a genius way of making friends, finding information and making new relationships before we went there. We have so many plans already and I can’t wait to begin writing a new chapter for the book, and filming videos for YouTube. There are more trips planned, all fitting nicely around work, and my PhD research. 

 

My mind is already over there, getting up early, hunting down a frothy coffee and sitting somewhere peaceful to journal. The resort's sun comes up over the sea, and the rooms overlook the sea. Isn’t that just the ideal picture in the mind?  I am excited about life in a renewed way I haven’t felt before. Even though I can’t explain it, I absolutely don’t mind. Whatever this feeling is, it can stay. Wanderlust being fulfilled once again in my inflamed body, I fully intend to make the most of walking barefoot on the sand. The feeling of the warm sea lapping against the ankles is just the most smile-inducing thought right now as I sit at my breakfast table pre-suncream shopping. My cells will come alive today, and in two weeks as we head to the airport, and maybe the inflammation will lower. 

 

New stories will be born, which I haven’t even got an outline for right now. I love that about travel writing; it just takes you on a wave and guides you with every turn. Seeing new things to describe, meeting new people to become ‘characters’, and having new experiences to create the backbone of the tale, all add to the beauty of ‘adventure’.

People see me tapping away at the laptop and ask why I’m working.

“Oh, no, this isn’t working. This is my passion.”

Did you forget the promise you made yourself during lockdown?

 Hello! So, my book is finally out today, after over a year of delays. 

In this book you can find more of the things you loved last time to get you thinking about life, what is living and how can we do it better?

Rejoice:

The first book saw an excited load of loveliness as we all rejoiced in the summer sun, the time away from routine and general sense of 'finding purpose'. Then the rules came, we were kept away from our families, unable to see people we needed to take care of... sadness crept in. But among that was a sense of knowing that we can learn from this pandemic. Did you promise yourself that? Have you forgotten those promises? This book gives you a reminder, as well as a chance to write down the story you want to tell yourself to help create your ideal life. The first book is here: Covid-19: How it made us feel The second, new book is here: DeJaVu: Life from behind the mask

DéjàVu: From behind the mask is PUBLISHED

 I am so excited to share the latest news with you.

You LOVED Covid-19: How it made us feel when it was shared with the world back in 2020. We hit bestseller status and I was loving my life beyond measure.

Me and my fellow writers found it therapeutic to share our thoughts with the world at that time and I truly wanted to get another book out there. In the meantime, I have been honing my phenomenology skills, which is a study of the lived human experience, and how to interpret it. That's called hermeneutics. But that doesn't matter. What I can now tell you is that there is a very different feel to the second book. 

During our first lockdown, we seemed to have an element of joy around doing things differently. We rejoiced in catching up with our lives and ourselves. During the capture of the second (kindle version, click here) lot of stories, there were tragedies and a sense of gloom as families began to become divided. 

What was the difference? The weather wasn't as good. We were given more rules to follow, so perhaps the joy of living life on our terms was now being changed, as we had to follow rules in an attempt to not catch the virus.

So many people wanted to write for this book. At the end is a section in the paperback version where you can record your thoughts. The passing of time means we forget certain things, and how we were feeling. Did you remember what all of the lockdowns were called? Can you think of the different ways in which you adjusted life? Write them down now before you forget.  You can record those thoughts after a quick reminder from myself and other incredible authors who have shared their innermost secrets and darkest fears, while talking you through little funny quirks of life which will also make you smile.