“Oh yeah, can you remember when…?”

My 6yr old was making memories for himself the other morning. In terms of making them up. He was recalling an event that he was at when he was very little, and asleep for half of it, but one that the rest of the family often talk about. Diggerland! There are photos, videos, even a medal, but there certainly wasn’t any jumping in muddy puddles with his dadda. But as the story was relayed, dadda simply said ‘yes’.

On my morning run shortly after the fake-recount, I didn’t press play on my running app and therefore didn’t record my stellar effort. Argh, it was a good one too, my fastest one for ages, I was flying, I so wish I’d captured it to check the pace. But then, I remembered the muddy puddles, and I was glad that I hadn’t.

What if the data said different? I’d be gutted. So I smiled and just went with how I felt. I flew.

Feeling part of a family story was important to my son, and so he created his own chapter, got grown-up confirmation, and will forever think it happened. And that’s ok if it helps him feel part of things.

When I was probably his age, I must’ve made a fake-memory of someone telling me that my godmother’s mum was a piano teacher and taught Julie Andrews how to sing. When I watched The Sound of Music or Mary Poppins I would stare at her intently, and imagine her standing next to a piano, I felt a bit closer. Untrue. I think I was about 35yrs old when I found that out!

Sitting here now watching the waves crash, seeing stripes in the sea (who knew?), I’m taking a mental snapshot. When I feel the need to escape from everyday life/work, I replay nature’s moments that I’ve seen – the sounds, the wind, the warmth, the chill, the shadows, the smells…and on a Tuesday at 4pm next week as I imagine this beach just like this, it might not be true…but it will be to me.

Love Stripes and Trees xxx

Going backwards is against everything I try hard to achieve – self development, knowledge, growth, discovery, experience… but I went back.

I went back to take this photo of the trees. To me it looks like one is trying to nuzzle into the other one, trying to get closer, be friends. But then they had a disagreement and it slowly turned away. The image stuck with me for months in my mind, so I went back and now it is captured, forever held, never lost.

This week a close friend sent me a flashback photo from the late nineties. It was a digital photo of a physical photo, making the moment seem more intense. We looked young, happy, arms around each other’s shoulders. Friendship captured, never lost. But like many others these days, our friendship is now almost wholly digital – we have seen each other only twice in 16yrs. Distance hasn’t changed much about our connection, I know that we’d still smile and laugh as hard if we met today, it’s just that I feel a bit lost, unsure which way to lean. If I was a tree I think I’d be quite twisted.

I’m so grateful for the life I have, for the people I share it with (physically or digitally), for the things I have achieved, for the dreams yet to be realised. But I must admit, I often have the sense that something is missing.

The photo that my friend sent was a perfectly timed reminder that the missing thing is me. A part of me. On the outside I have obviously changed, I have greys and more squishy parts, and on the inside I have emotionally evolved, as I should have in maturity and motherhood, but the core of me is me. And it’s not twisted, it’s just been a little quiet as I have been busy with other people for several years. The photo showed me what I am capable of, with good people around me, and I wanted to go back and find the missing part of me. My oomph.

So on the weekend I decided to run to the tunes that were always my running tunes. It wasn’t hard to make a playlist, these songs imprinted heavily in my muscle memory. Some tunes made me feel free and young, I felt strong and invincible; and others reminded me that I had once run a half marathon, even though I was struggling with a third of that distance today…and I remembered that the person in the photo was unable to jog longer than 10mins. This mishmash of memories made me realise how we really can choose what to do, that we can make things happen. It’s within us. Our own oomph.

The lyrics I heard as I hit my running goal for the day were:

“So now you finally know, That you control where you go, You can steer” – thanks Missy Higgins.

I now know. I am in control. I can steer.

I went back, and now I’m coming back. I’m not lost.

Love Stripes & Trees xxx

On my afternoon walk I stood on the bridge where I do push ups. After a few reps I stopped and I lingered, standing there far longer than usual – watching the water move, watching the fish, noticing patterns, noticing the light. I don’t stand still very long usually, I’m normally racing on to the next thing, but in this moment I had nothing in particular to do next, this was enough. I just hung there, body relaxed, mind noticing, heart feeling, ears listening, and I consciously acknowledged the loveliness of this moment.

And then…blah, ha ha, squeak, chitter chatter. A group of cyclists came onto the bridge and stopped. And talked. And laughed. Loudly. I turned, saw them, then turned back and did an internal eye roll. Huh, they were ruining my moment.

And then…one of them came over and asked me to take a photo of her and her friends, and the river. My river. I happily obliged, made sure the composition was right, did a countdown, snap. And one more for luck.

Then I dropped my phone on the bridge and they all gasped. It slid really fast towards the edge…the suspense…and then it just stopped. One of the guys said he would’ve dived into the river for me. Aww. I felt bad for the eye roll now!

Around the corner, as I set off walking again, I saw two guys taking a photo of a tree. I pondered. Then I too saw the ibis, three of them on one branch. Sweet. Threes always remind me of my two sisters and I, although not my favourite bird I thought they might be related and that we had something in common. The guys walked on and I jumped into position. Snap.

As I walked off, a different cyclist noticed what I had noticed, and he smiled gently at me, acknowledging the appreciation of the nice moment of the Ibis in the tree.

All of us in that ten minutes of shared experiences were strangers. We were strangers noticing the same things, helping each other out, spreading kindness, spreading life.

I felt lonely when I started my walk. On the bridge looking at the water I felt lonely. I was wishing that my kids weren’t scared of the river and would walk and talk, or scooter or cycle next to me. One day perhaps they will. And then in that moment everything changed. Today I realised that I was most certainly not alone.

We all saw.

Love Stripes and Trees xxx