Thoughts for the Philippines

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I’ve been so saddened to hear of the devastation that’s been caused in the Philippines by the recent typhoon. Two of the worst affected parts are the islands of Leyte and Malapascua, both places on our travel itinerary for January. The dive school where we are booked to stay for three nights on Malapascua has been completely devastated (see pic) and supplies are being sent in from the office on the northern tip of Cebu, which hasn’t yet managed to make contact with the inhabitants. Similar devastation has befallen Leyte, where we are due to go on a whale shark tour.

The clean up and repair operation of this beautiful paradise will likely take months, but the emotional scars of the survivors may last forever. When we visit in January it will be a very different Philippines that we find to the one we had expected, but I suspect we will come across individuals and whole communities who have been strengthened in the face of such tragic adversity. I hope we may even be able to help in some small way, perhaps through some form of relief volunteesring.

News like this makes me realise just how charmed a life my peers and I lead. I can’t imagine the shock and horrors those poor people have suffered and seen over the past few days, it’s almost incomprehensible. All I can say is that my thoughts and prayers go out to them all.

 

Why busy beats boring

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I know I’m prone to exaggeration but when I say this week has been ludicrously manic it’s not even an overstatement. First of all, there’s been work, where I’ve been flat out preparing a presentation to present to the Board of Trustees on my new communications strategy as well as planning and coordinating a project visit from HRH The Duke of York. Outside of work I’ve been spending my time doing a combination of marathon training (pretty sure this militant training plan is going to kill me – and it’s only week one) and writing my novel for NaNoWriMo (which, as usual, is limping along rather ruefully and being shoe horned in wherever I can manage). Oh-and on Monday I hosted a dinner party. And last night I ‘popped’ over to Heathrow to see off the lovely Sarah, as I mentioned in yesterday’s post.

Yes, it’s been a busy week indeed. But as I mull it over (before heading out for a night with friends) I find myself thinking, not for the first time, that being busy might be stressful at times but it’s nowhere near as bad as being bored. Given the choice of being super busy or super quiet I’ll take the former every time – because a busy mind is a healthy mind. That said, I couldn’t half do with some sleep…

Just Be Cool

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As important days at work go, today was right up there on the leader board. This morning I presented my PR strategy to the Board of Trustees before jumping in a cab to one of the charity’s projects near Westminster to coordinate a royal visit from HRH The Duke of York. Given the vast amount of stipulations and revisions that I’d had to make to the plan over the past couple of days I was expecting The Duke and his entourage to be a tough crowd, but in actual fact they were lovely. The Duke in particular was warm and friendly, and seemed to take a genuine interest in the project.

Tonight I joined my gorgeous friend Emma in seeing off our beautiful girl Sarah on her Australian adventure from Heathrow airport. We spent several hours drinking Tempranillo in the Three Bells pub and reminiscing about life and love. As ever, my time with her was precious and healing, and it was just so special being able to see Sarah one last time before her flight Down Under.

Before I forget, the following was the (verbatim) announcement on the tube en route to meet my dear friends earlier this evening:

“It’s Friday tomorrow, nearly the weekend. Yeah man.
Word to the driver, there are still some people trying to squeeze onto this ride.
Life is difficult, let’s just keep at peace and be cool.
Yeah man.”

I think Paul would approve.

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Bon voyage to a friend x

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This post is to wish my beautiful friend Sarah the very best of everything as she prepares to fly back to Australia tomorrow to resume the life she and her wonderful late boyfriend Paul had made together. I know she hates to be called ‘brave,’ and feels she has dealt with all that has happened over the past weeks and months as anyone would in the same circumstance, but nonetheless she has been an inspiration to me. Her warmth and humour have been a shining light in what has been an utterly dark time, not only for her but for her family, Paul’s family and all of their friends.  Paul’s passing was grossly unfair, an utter tragedy whose sadness knows no bounds. And yet as is always the case, out of this most horrendous of tragedies have sprung some small green shoots of hope. The outpouring of love for Paul has shown his beautiful spirit will live on forever, and I sincerely hope that Sarah feels the warmth of everyone’s affection shining on her every day of her life, as she most truly deserves. I wish you all the luck and love and happiness in the world gorgeous girl. Have a safe journey and soak up that Sydney sunshine for those of us you’re leaving behind. And always remember, physical distance is nothing, it’s what’s in your heart that counts. Which means wherever you are, Paul and all of us will be there too. xxxx

NaNo Day 5 update: The onset of insanity

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To sum up today in two words I would use the following: unbelievably manic. Lunchtime came and went without a break, and by five o’clock it had become apparent I would struggle to achieve my daily word count for NaNo unless I not only gave up any intention of fulfilling the obligatory exercise quota for day two (two!! Talk about failing at the first – well, second, hurdle) of my marathon training plan, but also stayed in the office to write aforementioned NaNo story rather than going home before tonight’s fireworks display in Brockwell Park. I shall, therefore, remain at work for another hour with the sole intention of bashing out as many words as I can so that I might just have a guilt-free (lack of exercise aside) night out.

This, friends, is a typical day in the life of a NaNo-er; clawing back minutes here and there to pad out an ill-thought out story that even by day five (of thirty!) seems to be falling apart. Not that I will let this stop me, for I have been in this position before. Thus far I’ve been half-hearted in my attempt at fitting writing into my life, but from this point forward the metaphorical gloves are off. It’s not good enough to write in dribs and drabs, writing sessions must be sustained and productive. I KNOW this, but now I need to make the effort to ENFORCE it.

Despite our love-hate relationship, writing is my baby. And nobody puts baby in a corner.

Grinning through the gloom

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Whether on a micro or a macro level, it’s an undeniable fact that life doesn’t always work out the way we want it to. No matter how well we lay our plans, the boiler will always break just as we want a shower, the supper will always spoil when we have guests for supper, and giving the customer services team of our bank/mobile phone supplier/energy provider a ‘quick’ ring in our lunch hour will rarely, if ever, be either quick or satisfactorily resolved. It will always rain when we have no umbrella, our bosses will always walk up to our desk at just the moment we flick onto Facebook, and the chain on our bike will always come off when we’re at our most red-faced and unattractive (not to mention in the busiest part of town).

But whilst it sometimes feels like things are sent to thwart us, in reality they are just part of the rich tapestry of life. In some ways it can even be such unexpected occurrences that change the metaphorical direction in which we’re travelling, forcing us to take stock of a situation and re-evaluate it, then change the way we choose to deal with it.

Whatever the reason (or lack thereof) for things going wrong, dwelling on them isn’t going to solve anything. Provided those things aren’t matters of life and death, it’s probably safe to say that they will pass and we will emerge from whatever storm that descended upon us relatively unscathed. It is, of course, easier said than done that we can slap a smile on our faces and grin through the gloom in every circumstance, but if we can remember that this too shall pass we’re half way towards winning the battle.

On being nice to strangers

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This weekend I’ve witnessed two exchanges between strangers that have made me feel quite sad about our capacity, as humans, to be unpleasant to one another.

The first was yesterday at the bar of the British Film Institute. There was a bit of a queue building up and when the girl who was serving asked who was next and a woman began to order her drink, the man beside her said, “Actually I think you’ll find I’ve been waiting longer than her.” The woman who was ordering turned to him and explained her film was about to start and that she was in quite a rush, but instead of letting her go in front of him he began to order a round of three drinks and food. Not only that, he nastily said to her, “I don’t care about your film.”

The second incident was today on a bus travelling along Oxford Street, when a middle aged Caribbean woman started needlessly laying into a rather overweight elderly (possibly also homeless) gentleman for – as far as I could discern given the distance between us – blocking the aisle by standing in it instead of sitting down. As he had a lot of bags in the luggage rack I thought it was quite obvious why he had chosen to stand rather than sit, but the woman wouldn’t let up with her rude questioning and by the time I disembarked the atmosphere on the bus was frosty to say the least.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, why can’t people just be nice to one another? Life is hard enough as it is without being kicked by strangers when you’re feeling down. A little kindness goes a long way, and if we can’t be kind to one another then we can at least be civil. Remember the old saying “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all”? Well, that. And that’s all I’ve got to say on the matter.

I <3 London (& Family)

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It’s all too easy to live in London and never appreciate the breadth and scope of cultural activities that can be done here. Which is precisely why I always welcome an enlightening day with my mum and stepdad, being shown around parts of this city I call home that I might otherwise never have explored. Today’s highlights were a guided tour through the history of painting at the National Gallery (which also included a delightful lunch of cheese and wine), a matinee at the British Film Institute on the South Bank (1960s film Nothing But a Man) and dinner at the Oxford and Cambridge Club on Pall Mall, where my stepdad is a member. I always feel a little out of place there, but nonetheless love the atmosphere and splendour, in particular the stunning dining room with its old school charm and chandeliers. After dinner we had a night cap at the Archduke jazz bar in Waterloo before heading home for an episode of Breaking Bad (we’re now up to season three and it breaks my heart to think that soon we’ll be completely up to date and will have watched them all). I even managed to add another 500 words to my NaNo novel this morning before venturing out – admittedly I haven’t achieved my word count for today but I’m not worried, the story’s going great guns so far and tomorrow is a brand new day with lots of opportunity to catch up. Anyway, in short it’s been a great and inspiring day, spent with the people I love most in the whole world. I’m a very lucky girl.

NaNoWriMo: Day One

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It’s 1.14pm on day one of NaNoWriMo and as yet I haven’t written a single word of my new novel. Not perhaps the MOST promising start, but I’m not panicking just yet. Why? Because I HAVE A PLAN – and it goes a little something like this:

  1. Work like a demon (right through lunch) until 4pm
  2. Leave office and install self in caffeine-vending establishment (Café Nero and Costa both being less than 100ft from office)
  3. Write as if life depends on it until 6.55pm
  4. Walk five minutes to restaurant to meet friends
  5. Celebrate successful first day of NaNo with a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio

Of course the fact that a) I have about three days’ worth of work to cram into the next three hours and b) I’m still not at all sure how the first chapter is going to start are both somewhat concerning threats to the ultimate achievement of this plan. But as historically my best work has always been done under pressure I choose to regard these challenges as opportunities for greatness rather than barriers to success. The first day of NaNo is not a time to fall apart. It is a time to indulge in superhuman amounts of self-confidence.

I am a writing super hero. I WILL succeed.

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Halloween Story

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In the half light of the full moon crawls a boy. The undergrowth through which he makes his way is simultaneously his protector and attacker, shielding him from view and yet inflicting countless wounds upon his bony limbs; a dichotomy of nature. From time to time he stops and sniffs the air, then presses his nose into the damp earth like a dog tracking a scent. His hair, matted with juice of berries he has harvested for food, is festooned with unintentional regularity by twigs and tiny insects.

Even the most untrained eye would see the boy is feral. His skin is worn like leather that has spent a decade in the sun. His eyes, black like ravens’, reveal the true nature of the instinct by which he is governed. His movements are not clumsy as one might expect from a boy of his age – Six? Seven? Surely not more – but rather fluid and considered, swift and exact.

Devoid of anything resembling human emotion, the boy follows his senses to survive. He scavenges, preys on the weak. He creeps into the homes of unsuspecting householders and steals their food. He watches their children as they sleep, in silent and uncomprehending curiosity.

He was human, once, a long time ago. He is not human anymore.