Midnight Magic.

I came up with a new ritual on December 31st 2012. It had been a rough year, I’d come out of the comfort of my college course into the awkward, new world of university living -and as a mature student no less.

December 31st, the last day of 2012. The last day that I would be bogged down by my problems and worries about being older than the majority of the student population in my faculty.

11:30

By the light of some mangled, old candles that I had used an abused sporadically throughout 2012, I drew my tarot cards to predict my first steps into 2013.

11:45

I wrote in my diary all my troubles, fears, negative thoughts and doubts. I wrote them without reservations with one eye on the clock.

11:50

Just ten minutes until the dawning of a new year. I was excited, thrilled by the idea of a new year with a new driver at the wheel. 

Me.

I sat down with just my candles burning, eyes closed to the world of 2012 and bringing forward new dreams to follow for 2013. I dreamt of settling into the routine of university living. Finishing my first real novel for a publishers eyes to devour. Nothing was off limits, anything I could imagine in those moments was possible and for 2013 I would chase and complete those dreams.

I opened my eyes to the beep of my watch, 12:01 it was January 1st 2013 and problems were locked in the past. My future was still bubbling excitedly in my mind.

Since that night, I’ve used the magic of midnight to wash away my problems. Whether its a bad day or you just want to refresh your life and start over. Whatever time of day it is follow these four simple steps to access the magic of midnight. 

Step 1: Set up your room with whatever you need to help you relax, candles, music, a specific movie, it should be personal to you. 

Step 2: Take a shower bringing only fresh clothes with you for after. If you’re like me, you use your pyjamas or your lounging clothes for a few days before throwing them in the wash. Get out new pyjamas or lounging clothes, no exceptions.

Step 3: With your body and clothes cleansed of any negativity, its time to clear your mind. Take out your diary or even a piece of paper, write out what you feel is wrong or upsetting you. Whether it’s as simple as missing your bus or getting caught in the rain or something much deeper, write it down just to get it out of your head.

Step 4: This is my favourite part. Put the list you just wrote aside, hide it if you worry that someone might read it but don’t lose it or throw it away. Then sit down, lay down -whatever- with your favourite book, favourite film, favourite album and enjoy that for as long as you want.

The final step is the bit where you see whether the magic has worked. Go to bed for the night. When you wake up again in the morning, look at that list, burn the list whatever you feel it right. Sometimes I look at the list and the problems of yesterday make me laugh. Sometimes I tear the list up into little pieces and let it disperse with the wind.

At the end of the day, do what feels right to you just don’t brood over the problems. Let the water from the shower wash away your tensions and the relaxation of your favourite thing clear the thoughts from your mind.

Happy new week 🙂

Adventures Ho!

Adventures, amazing things that will leave you with stories worth telling when you’re 70 and your grandbabies are looking for entertainment. 

Turn off the TV and open those ears kids.

I’ve had many adventures but not so many now that I’ve become

-oh god

-dare I say it? An “adult” 

Yeah, I’ve grown up a lot in the past couple of years. It feels good, like I’ve FINALLY grown into that giant t-shirt your mother swears you’ll grow into eventually so to keep wearing it until it does. All parents do this regardless of generations or class.

I’m happy in my skin, happy with my uniqueness and happy to laugh my arse off at any mistakes I may make publicly or privately. It takes years for people to feel this way, I hear about people coming to a point in their lives where they just don’t care anymore. No more dieting, trying to keep up with the “in” crowd, fretting over looking good, looking young or looking presentable to whoever they believe are judging them.

With this new found freedom, I’m back to itching for adventure and here I’m happy to tell you all about how to have one of your own.

You will need:-

The desire for an adventure

A good friend/partner in crime

A camera 

That’s everything, we all have a camera and I’m sure you have someone who would be willing to do something crazy with you -otherwise you can go it alone and have a solitary adventure. It’s just as good! The addition of a friend/partner in crime is purely so you can strengthen the bond you have together. The most important ingredient is your desire for an adventure. Without that you’re pretty much looking for rainbows when you know it hasn’t rained. By wanting an adventure you almost always automatically find one.

The secret to a good adventure?

It’s what you make of it. Whether you’re doing something that’s been done a thousand times or doing something unique for the first time. If you say its an adventure, its an adventure.

That’s not copping out of something great that’s returning power to you.

An example of my greatest adventure happened with my school friend when we were teenagers. We were in a large, shopping centre with nothing to do and neither of us wanted to go home just yet. So we decided to look at everything -I mean everything, on every floor starting from the top to the bottom. The car park, the shops, the restaurants and even some of the strictly staff only doors that were unlocked and unguarded. Somehow we ended up on the stairs, stairs meant for members of shopping centre staff not teenagers with a wealth of curiosity. We went up only to find a locked door leading to the roof and we went down to a grim basement area that smelt strongly of damp. My friend, as brave as she was in my eyes at the time, pilfered a cup of milk from the staff room and walked around drinking it like it was some kind of sweet nectar.

At the time we didn’t have phones with cameras in it. We didn’t have cameras. All I have as proof of that day is a slip written by the head of centre security that was supposed to go to our parents. It details that we were caught in the staff only area and that if we were to go there again, we’d be handed over to the police.

That was one hell of an adventure and I still remember how scary it was when we were caught.

So that’s my adventure, tell me about one of yours? Or perhaps your dream adventure??

Begin Again.

Starting over can be painful or the most joyous thing you can do with your life.

I’ve decided to start over. To begin again.

This blog has been an outlet for me to share elements of myself and my past in order to help myself move on and eventually heal from it. Now I’ve come to the point where I feel I’ve become part of the over exposed generation, using the misery of youth to gain something like fame, but not really.

Given some recent events, none that I’m going to share with you, I’ve decided to take this blog in a different direction.

To begin again.

I’m going through a transformation of my own. I have the sudden and genuine desire to wipe away my current identity and replace it with a new “me” one that expresses who I am. I want to change my lifestyle, becoming healthier and looking after myself like I’ve never done before.

This blog -this diary, will become my place to chronicle not only my personal transformation but to express much more. My own brand of magic, recipes, my aspirations, tips for life and studies and my ramblings when I can’t sleep and you’re the only one that’s around to hear my thoughts.

I hope you’ll stay with me for this journey.

Peace x

Venting.

I have a confession to make. Tonight is one of the many times that I have considered ending things with my boyfriend. He’s done nothing wrong. Our situation is just a bad one to be stuck in and unfortunately for you guys, you get the brunt of my frustrations.

Don’t recommend I talk to him about it. I can’t.

I’ve brought up my frustrations before but at the end of the day he’s still 40 fucking miles away from me and there are days when it hurts more than others.

This is one of those days.

I am stressed out and frustrated and the man that I love isn’t here to hold my hand and trying to convince me that choosing to go to university was not a complete disaster. Instead, he’s trying to say the right thing via text message. Those words are meaningless and hollow, just pixels on a screen.

I’ve talked to him about my frustrations and pains before. The increasingly frustrating thing is that by the time he comes here or I go there, the issue has disappeared again. Neither of us want to make an issue that isn’t obvious so we let it slide.

I want to come home after a shitty day and find the one I love there ready to be the one that I vent to. Not a bunch of strangers, no offence guys, but you know the deal.

Right now, I’m sitting in the dark crying by the light of my laptop while waiting for a message from him. Even the simplest responses take time to get across. I’m fucking tired of waiting for anything when it comes to this relationship.

I have 6 assignments due in a little over a week and I’m bawling like a child because I can’t get a real life, warm and relaxing embrace from someone I consider my soul mate. 

Seriously, I wonder if breaking things off would ease my pain or just make it worse. We can’t move in together until I graduate, not only because of money but because he doesn’t like the city and I can’t leave like I want to until I graduate.

I’m done. I am so very much done, I just want to wake up tomorrow and have a solution waiting for me like a Christmas present at the foot of my bed.

Seriously. I’m done.

Lets Begin.

Good evening all!

Happy Wednesday!

Today was the last day I have lessons at university. With the closing of that chapter of the year, I decided to open a new one for the summer ahead of me. It begins with no longer neglecting my blog. I find the process of writing was is near to my dearly, battered heart very therapeutic and it honestly has helped my relationships grow stronger.

More on that another post.

This summer I’m washing away the negativity of my old life and planting new seeds to be sown for my future and the futures of anyone I come into contact with.

It begins with redecorating my room, reevaluating my choice of friends and spending some precious time away with my beloved who has stuck by me through more than he had to. I will also look at the cosmetic stuff of my life, looking again at how I dress, how I take care of myself if at all and most importantly, settling down a routine in stone that I will do no matter the circumstances.

Routine makes me feel productive.

Tonight, as I sit alone in my room. I have 6 assignments due in the next few weeks, some essays and some other bits and bobs that need doing.

I’m not doing these assignments yet. I am prepared. I’m prepared academically. For now though I want to prepare physically and mentally. No matter how insane that may seem to you, I want to restore myself and my belief in myself before I venture on with the pressure of assignments.

So that’s my update thus far.

Much love to you who still follow my words and to those that stumble across them.

Peace x

Message in a Bottle.

Have you ever wondered if you could sent a message back to yourself? According to Albert Einstein’s theory, time is relative therefore the past, the present and the future are all going simultaneously.

I’m sitting on this sunny Tuesday morning, wondering if I could send a message back to myself.

To reach across the time lines and hug the terrified twelve year old me that was sobbing in terror after being caught truanting for the first time. Believe it or not, I was a “good girl” in school, I hated the idea of getting into trouble. Maybe I would sent good feelings back to myself when suicide was always front and centre in my thoughts.

Maybe I wouldn’t go back that far. I think if it were possible to send a message, or even a feeling. I would send it back to the twenty three year old me who was just starting out at university. Standing uncertainly at the bus stop waiting to enroll and secretly wondering if she had made a mistake or not. As I write this, it occurred to me that I have been sent a message from my future. I was sent a vision from myself, something I once used to provoke so much motivation I pushed through the writers block of semester 1 assignments.

My vision was simple. It lasted seconds but I’m now proudly hanging it like a portrait on the forefront of my mind.

Negative thoughts be damned.

I was wearing the black robe and tasseled square hat of graduation. The universities satin blue hanging over my shoulders as I walked into a room full of applause. I was smiling. I was happy. More importantly, I had succeeded.

That vision I must have replayed in my head a thousand times. I excitedly, told my boyfriend about it, it confirmed what my doubts and fears tried to prevent me from believing. I will not fail. I will succeed. I will be up there with the others in my class and receive my diploma. Although he’s a bit of a sceptic when it comes to magic and faith in the universe as I have, he’s understanding enough not to mock me for what I believe. He asked just smiled at me and said it was just confirming what he already knew about me. 

He’ll be there at my graduation in 2 years now my first year is almost over. He’ll be sitting with my parents and clapping with everyone else as I take my first steps as a university graduate and even more so. My first steps at becoming a teacher.

So, here’s my request for you. Sit down somewhere quiet and think of a time when you needed a friend but no one was around. Send back to yourself good vibes and reassurances, maybe you’ve already felt your message but forgotten about it.

Peace x

Love Me.

Have you ever had a day so packed with bad things that you feel like you’re drowning? All the bad energy comes and clogs up your brain but there doesn’t seem to be a reprieve? Well, I found a way you can improve your own bad mood.

You take a piece of paper. A pen. And an envelope.

The next bit is really simple, you’ve probably guessed it already.

Sit down somewhere private and write a message to your future self. That beat down, tired you that needs someone in the know to come and put their arms around you and say it’s going to be all right. Be as narcissistic as you feel comfortable being. Shine the brightest light you possibly can on your positive aspects even if you feel you’re embellishing the truth slightly -it doesn’t matter! Pour as much positive feeling as you can into your letter and then seal it up in an envelope for yourself to enjoy later.

How much later? That one I suggest you leave up to fate. I did this myself, I put the envelope between two books I knew I would eventually read again. In an envelope colourfully decorated with words in a language I’m assuming I googled in Latin -I don’t know what they mean- written around the sides. Inside was my own narcissistic spotlight from December last year. As I’m babbled about on this blog, I’ve had a rough week and I’m not looking forward to university at all. So I picked up my feelgood book Secret Songs by Jane Stemp and from between that tumbled out this message. The “me” that wrote it is a different me that is sitting here this evening writing now, that me had been at university for only 2 months and was still hopeful for a bright future.

I bragged to myself about my beauty, intelligence, my sharp sense of humor and confessed my plans for the future. The letter made my laugh so hard at myself tears ran down my face. Narcissism really isn’t my thing, but the trick worked, I’m in a better mood than I’ve been in all week.

I’ll confess to you, my dear readers, that the plan I wrote about was this:

Keep every single letter I write to myself for my children and grandchildren to read.

I never really knew my grandmother, she died from a heart attack when I was eyeball high in depression and still too young to understand exactly what it meant to lose her. Now I’m older and I wonder what it would have been like if she were still with us. So, truthfully, the letters are my way of letting my grandchildren get to know me even if I’m *touch wood* not there to see them grow up.

So there it is, my tip for banishing bad days. Write yourself as many letters as you want, hide them everywhere, be as extravagant, far fetched or as silly as you please with each letter. You never know when one of those letters might end up back in your hands. One thing even I know and I’m a perfect stranger, is that you’ll be a different person to the one that wrote you in the first place.

Much love 

Peace x

Boston.

I know this is a belated dedication, my heart still aches from the news on the bomb attacks in Boston. I stumbled across the news on Monday evening on my way home from university, I saw the prayers for Boston posted on many social networking sites.

I googled for an explanation.

My evening of study and catching up on work I’d missed was replaced by following any news feed I could. What was happening?

The pictures, the videos and the reports of people lying in agony reached me at the click of a mouse. My heart broke in two. It left me in a cold state while I waited for more information that just wasn’t there.

I woke this morning to the news that they had caught the second brother believed to be responsible for the attacks. I lay in my bed reading the news on my phone and cried.

So here is my stay strong message to Boston. I’ll be at the London Marathon tomorrow cheering those that race on with those who lived through the Boston attack in mind. I’m thousands of miles away from you but I’m sending love and good vibes and weeping for those that died because of another senseless act of violence. Because of those two boys -they were boys, barely 20 years old either of them – an entire community will be persecuted because of the colour of their skin or their beliefs. My heart breaks for the entire community of innocent people about to be targeted because of their culture and their faith. Everyone has a cause to fight for but massacring innocent people to highlight your cause is like shooting the paramedic you want to save the life of a loved one.

My heart can’t take anymore news of terrorist attacks, mass murder and death all in the name of a religion that frowns upon such acts.

First Day Blues.

Tomorrow is my first day back at university in 3 weeks. I wasn’t skipping classes, it was the Easter break and then “reading week” where pretty much everyone just sits around doing nothing and not actually reading.

My intentions for those three weeks were genuinely productive. I planned on knocking out one draft or at least beginning a draft of my assignments. I planned on clearing out the clutter of my room and creating a study space that would be so neat and organised that it would be perfect and students would look to me for advice.

Reality. Oh bittersweet reality. I spent the first week doing exactly as I set out. I created a timetable, I unearthed my planner so I could put in to-do lists and keep track of what I was doing on what day, taking notes from books and even carving out a study area. I spent the second week mooning over the lost days I was supposed to have with my boyfriend, starting this very blog, transferring my notes into a much better notebook (the original one shed its pages) and going out on sporadic trips around London with my Mum. I spent the third week being eaten alive by my own fears of inadequacy, having and then losing my boyfriend, bordering on quitting, cleaning up after the universe decided to rain on my already broken down parade and panicking because none of what I set out to do had actually become reality.

I wonder if the universe actually sits back and laughs heartily every time I’m brazen enough to decide:

“yes! Today I will make a new plan and I’m going to stick to it!“

Then, leaning forward with a wicked smile, thinks up new and exciting ways of derailing my best intentions. I make a to-do list only to a) lose it b) get sidetracked with helping my Mum or many siblings with something or the classic c) have something completely impossible happen that would derail my plan. Exhibit A being the newly plastered hole in my bedroom ceiling and the bubbled linoleum floor underneath.

Thanks Universe, you’re a pal!

Honestly, I’m scared to go back to university. To sit among the proper and organised students who have read the books, have begun their assignments and that annoying somebody that has already gotten theirs ready to hand in as and when the time comes. There’s always one of those, it’s never me. I’m scared because I have to get back on track and attend lessons I haven’t been going to properly (here’s looking at you Mr. 1950s Relic). Soon there will be a small avalanche of assignments bearing down on me. That’s scary in itself, I managed a 2:2 which is basically an average of C or B grades in my assignments. As a would be good student, grades between B and A would be excellent but I’ll settle for B across the board.

I have 2 weeks left of my first year at university. Then its over but I will of course have the assignments to battle. That’s a little intimidating too.

Bottom line: I wonder if I’ve gotten myself thousands of pounds into debt, made myself the figurehead of education in my family and signed up to spend 3 years doing a degree that isn’t the right fit for me anymore.

That said, my university decided to change the learning programme after roping in thousands of new students and their money. Most of the subjects I signed up to do were cancelled or for students doing solely that one field of study. None of this was shared with us at the open days, only at our induction when it was too late to change our minds and go to that other university.

Tomorrow I go in for a lecture on A Midsummer Nights Dream, by William Shakespeare. As I’m only ever honest with you. I’m sure the lecture will be a waste of my time and give me only a general outline of what the play is about and it’s premise.

Maybe the universe has plans for me, plans that my own get in the way of. Or maybe I’m just really bad at planning stuff. 

See you on the other side. 

Peace x 

Doubt.

This week, you could say, life has kicked my arse up and down the streets of London. It began with a “goodbye” and has sank lower since then.

I lie.

It began with being spoiled by the affections of my boyfriend, he drove down this time so we could have more time together. He arrived nice an early, gave me a long hug and a kiss before we settled in for a day of watching DVDs -our usual routine. The following day we drove away from the busy streets of London, encased in a small, metal box on wheels with no chance of another human being interrupting our time together. Bliss. After returning home, we shared a few more hours together before he had to go.

That’s where I can pin point my week falling apart.

Ever the good hostess, I walked him down to his car. We hugged, we kissed and we said goodbye once again. This time it hurt more than it had ever hurt me before. Usually we go to the train station, its a softer departure because the two of us know during that journey only one of us will be taking the journey back to where we left. This time he was leaving from my flat and there was no time to walk and prepare myself. From my entrance door, I watched him drive off with a wave through the window and my heart broke. In the ten steps from the entrance to the elevator I was in tears, leaning against the metal walls of the elevator and crying about losing the man I love to the miles again.

The next blow to my already wounded soul came with a pipe bursting in the ceiling above my bedroom. It didn’t destroy anything luckily but it did disrupt my carefully laid out attempts at organising my time better. We have to move all we could out of the room, including my stuff for university, stationery, notes and books.

The third blow struck today with the realisation that I have an assignment worth 30% of my final grade this semester due in Monday and I feel I don’t have anything more to push myself towards starting -let alone finishing- this assignment.

I have about 9 assignments in total to do by the May deadline. I’m OK with the pressure, that’s not me being a show off, I can really only work under some kind of pressure. That doesn’t work for my grades but at least I’ve worked -plus side.

Laying my cards on the table right now. I’m scared, I’m frustrated and the scariest feeling of all is that I’m tempted to quit. Just throw in the towel and leave university to the middle class, trust fund kids that I had always imagined it to be.

I won’t quit.

I start back on Monday, I’m supposed to start back on Monday but I’m running on empty. I’m not excited by any of my classes, my friends and I meet up outside of university so there’s no incentive there. I haven’t really attended classes as I was supposed to and I’m pretty sure I’m fucking up every aspect of this university “experience” by over thinking every single thing I do.

To a certain extent, I do shut off. I don’t care if I’m liked by everybody, I don’t care if I show up to a class alone because I know nobody there. I just want to get in and learn something. Whether they think of me as stuck up, moody, boring -whatever, doesn’t bother me.

Academically, I understand I have to stay engaged. Some lessons are like watching paint dry, even the most perfect student in that class (and there always is one) sits motionless while this relic from the 1950s drones on and on and on for the full two hour lecture. He does not solicit questions, request that we engage in anyway but listen -whether our eyes are open or not is option. I have noticed a few people slumped behind their laptop screens asleep or checking up on friends activities on Facebook.

Although I have the dream, the ideal, of becoming a teacher and working to change lives and perspectives. Doubt has wormed its way into my thoughts and is making me wonder if I’m really cut out for this kind of thing. University is a challenge one that is handed to you by the establishment but has to be kept moving by your own willpower and determination to succeed.

It’s like sitting in a row boat on a still lake. You’re freezing cold, hungry and uncomfortable. On the bank behind you is a baron place with nothing growing and only a swampy marsh land to welcome you there. On the bank opposite you are all your friends and family, warm blankets and a feast fit for a King, all you have to do is row there. The catch is as you’re rowing, the bank is moving further away from you. But you have to keep going, you will get there eventually but the test is in keeping yourself rowing despite your miserable condition.

Perhaps this is my ego talking, perhaps not, I think the problem lies not in the self motivation. I’ve proved beyond all doubt that once I get my butt in gear, I can turn into a one woman rowing team. I think the problem lies in the lack of a challenge. The work is pretty mediocre,  because it’s the first year and universities generally want repeat business. Our grades, although gratifying when they are returned above expectations, don’t count for this year at all, the slate is wiped clean until our second year when it matters towards our degree.

I’m a mess right now. I don’t know whether I’ll post this. I don’t know what to do. I have a dozen dreams that I want to chase but none of the energy to pursue them.

This is me. I am broken in obscure and unusual ways. I blog about it because I know I’m not the only one going through it and it helps to get the problem out of your head. To sit and read it again and again until finally you can see the solution that has been staring you in the face.

Tomorrow is another day. I have to figure out if I possibly have enough time to complete the assignment for Monday or if I should email and explain that my room/study area has become a building site so won’t be in to give him the assignment. He’s a pushover -his words not mine, so it should be fine. Honestly, I don’t care if it isn’t, I want to hand my problems to the universe and let it sort them out, after all they caused them!