As a young girl, I remember walking home from school as the evenings got dark and I would peer into the bright windows of the houses I passed along the way. I was fascinated and also felt a little lonely and envious for the lives that I saw reflected within. I marveled at the rooms where everything seemed perfect and manicured to such a degree that I felt the occupants could never have any problems in life.
I hankered for the families I saw gathered around the dining room table laughing and hugging each other with such love and warmth. I longed to go up to these houses and knock on the door and ask if I could spend just a little time in their company. A little time spent in the perfect living room with the perfect family. But instead, I walked past, leaving the laughter and the polished furniture behind me as I made my way home to our little bungalow at the end of a cul-de-sac.
Please don’t misunderstand me. My early home life had all we needed and there was a lot of love contained within the walls of our little house. We moved there after my father died when I was very young. My mother, a young widow with two small children, sold everything she had in order to buy the little bungalow for four thousand pounds. It was a fortune in those days and yet she did it.
Somehow, she managed to get the money together while deep in grief and loss from the death of my father. Something in hindsight that I look back on and revere with such awe. The bungalow was perfect for us as it was opposite my grandfather’s house. A huge old Victorian block of a house with three attic rooms and a cellar that always frightened my sister and I.
My mother had a ritual that every night at 6.00pm she would wave to my grandfather from across the road to make sure he was okay. If he didn’t show up, she would charge straight over to check that all was well. Many times, he forgot the 6pm ritual and my mother would come back, red in the face and frustrated from having dropped everything in fear and worry to be with him.
These moments… these old snapshots in time linger softly in my memories today as I think back to my past and spend a little time with these old ghosts. I can still see every detail of our little bungalow and can recall the anxious wait for our grandfather to appear at his window for the evening wave of reassurance. These and countless other moments have shaped the child I was, the young adult I became and the elder woman that I am in the process of becoming.
At 66, one of the greatest lessons that I have learned is that home is not found in someone else’s perfect looking sitting room or in the perfect family, if there is ever such a thing. It is found here, deep within my heart. And it is from here that we create the experience of our life that truly matters and enriches our soul. I understand that peace is not something I find when my life is perfect, but something I keep returning to as a practice, a thought and a new way of looking after myself.
Today, these life lessons have shaped the woman I am and the work that I love to bring to the world. I feel blessed to be able to teach and coach the things that matter most to me… body confidence, self-love, joyful ageing and my uplifting dance fitness classes. And, when I look back to those early days of longing to be somewhere other than where I was, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I am exactly where I am.
I know that nothing is ever wasted and that everything can lead us home if we allow ourselves to follow the breadcrumbs of our own belonging.
I notice the smallest details and celebrate them… the morning cup of tea, the birds chirping outside my window, the new book I am about to read, the roses as they bloom wildly, freshly washed sheets, a chat with a friend, speaking at a workshop or event, the golden evening light before dusk settles in, teaching my dance fitness classes. Every day brings some small joy, and I remind myself to appreciate them as they won’t come again in quite the same way as today.
I remind myself to move towards what makes me feel more alive and to surround myself in as much beauty as possible. These are the things that light me up and make me feel uplifted and hopeful. They can be anything – from planning a beautiful holiday or trip to reading an interesting book on something I love. Aliveness is felt in the body as expansion, lightness, excitement, joy and a positive anticipation of something to come. The key is to follow these glimmers of aliveness in whatever way that you can.
I say a daily thank you to my dear body. She has been through a lot and yet she is still here supporting and loving me. And even through the pain of arthritis, she still allows me to walk, to dance, to write, to hug the people I love and to experience all the things that I hold most precious in life. The relationship that we have with our body is the longest one in our life – let’s make it kind and caring.
Every day, I remind myself to live in the moment as much as I can. To eat when I’m physically hungry and to savour each mouthful of food. To rest when I need to – something that in the past I found hard to do. I live a lot slower than I used to. This is intentional because I love to fully appreciate the moment that is unfolding. I let life flow rather than trying to force the outcomes. Just this practice alone brings so much peace.
Every day, I remind myself to get up, dress up and show up. This is powerful for me. Every new day greets us with armfuls of new opportunities to be enjoyed. In return, I make sure that I meet the day with my arms stretched out wide ready to embrace what’s there. Sometimes, the day is quiet and reflective and just calls for me to put on my comfy clothes as I potter around the house. Other days, I wear my swishy long kimono with my boho maxi skirt and brightly coloured top and get ready to take on the world.
If you would love to walk alongside me as we travel this journey together, I would love your company. Join me on Instagram @romancingyourbody for more loving tips, coaching, inspiration and gentle musings on what it is to show up each day as the most authentic and loving version of you.
What are the most positive lessons that you have learned in your life? What brings you joy and peace?
Tags Finding Happiness
My encouragement to women exactly! “body confidence, self-love, self-care, and joyful ageing! And though we cannot always control what life hands us, we CAN control how we respond!
At 75, I still get up, dress up, and show up every day!