Thinking out loud

I recently received some painfully disappointing news. The kind that hurts in your chest and takes your breath away for a split second. I know you know it. The news that is followed by the sting of tears in your eyes and the immediate realisation that your dream has died. I wrote about it on twitter the other day trying to my make sense of it all. I do this a lot. I try to unravel my thoughts and emotions by writing. A lot of it is in my journal, it's the purple leather bound one from monsoon. I love that journal. Other times I'll write it in my phone notes and other times I'll come here. So here I am. Trying to put this to bed. I've allowed myself to dream big dreams in 2019, when it comes to my career. I have allowed myself to put imposter syndrome aside for a little while and reach for what could be. Some of it worked. Most it didn't and I find myself here facing crushing disappointment with more questions than answers. When I don't have answers I ask m

I am a mother.  Two formidable girls call me mum and it is a role I came into fearfully, one I was ill-prepared for and one that teaches me countless lessons daily. The responsibility of getting it right feels like the proverbial sword of Damocles; looming and constantly reminding me of what other things I have to get right. Will they be happy, are they secure, am I good example, what lessons do I still have to teach, are they eating enough vegetables, will they know that they are capable of achieving all they set their minds to? It goes on and on and I tremble as I type this because the list is actually endless and I often feel I may not have the strength or the presence of mind to actually get it right.  And there is that word! Right. What is the right, correct, proper way to be their mother? I have no idea. But what I learnt today is that it is simpler than I often imagine. It is about being present. Listening and engaging and finding out who these people really are and getting