It's not just the American Police that needs to change...

When I was at school, I was often bullied and picked on. Usually, it was because I was too skinny; too 'goofy' (tooth-wise); or didn't have the 'right' clothes, shoes, or haircut. I remember it vividly and the mental-scars remain to this day.

I'm fortunate, though: it was never because of my skin colour, so I don't know what that feels like.

My Upper School was quite segregated, with social groups formed largely around skin colour. I remember the 6th Form Common Room had an archway in the middle, splitting it in two. One side, quite organically, became the 'white' side, and the other was the 'black' or 'Asian' side. Looking back, it was a pretty horrible thing to happen.

As I progressed at that school, my friendship group changed. I became friends with the so-called 'Asians'. (The fact that most of them were probably born in England was lost on us back then.) I think fondly of the times spent with them over the years that followed: five-a-side football and table tennis in the sports centre; doing crossword puzzles or playing chess in the library; drinking coffee in the canteen while discussing video games. Normal things, really.

This group of friends was nicer to me than any group had been previously. I didn't share their skin colour/faith/cultural-heritage, but it didn't matter.

I remember clearly a conversation I had with one of my former white-'friends' (who had also been one of those who picked on me often). He approached me one break-time as I went to the vending machine.

'Why are you hanging out with the Asians?' he said.

I looked at him, slightly puzzled. It seemed obvious to me.

'Because they're my friends!' I said. (I'm proud of my younger-self for that response!)

It saddens me that we live in a world where racist ideas and thoughts are still so pervasive. Almost an entire year group of white people seemed to be growing up with the opinion that race made a difference to someone's value as a person. I don't know where most of them are now, or what their thoughts are. I can only hope they have matured into kinder people, but it's not hard for me to believe that any 'white' population might, largely, have racist beliefs underneath.

Racism is everywhere. It's constant in the unconscious (or not-so-unconscious in many cases) bias that all of us (including me) carry as a result of our culture and upbringing. There's no point denying it: it's there. But, if we recognise it in ourselves, we can challenge it, choose to act or think a different way, and change those biases for good.

We don't live in anything like a fair world: I can walk around with my white wife, without even having to think about what people might think of two people of our 'race' being together. A black or 'Asian' man with a white partner probably wouldn't have that privilege. And that's just one example straight off the top of my head.

The other day, I described the police as people who are supposed to be our 'protectors'. I'm not sure that would be the first word that came to mind for many black people, even before George Floyd's murder.

Yet, it's not just the American Police that needs to change. We all do. Let's start now.

#BlackLivesMatter

'My partner is SO annoying!'

I’ve seen a lot of posts about being ‘stuck’ at home with one's partner. These things often go around in the form of jokes or memes, and not just in this time of lock-down:

• My husband doesn’t pick up his socks.
• He doesn’t listen to me.
• They never empty the dryer!
• She doesn’t let me do what I want.
• All they ever want is sex!
• He’s clueless...
• She doesn’t understand me...
• Etc.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good joke/meme as much as anyone but, when I see/hear people constantly moaning about their partners, my first thought is: ‘Why are you with them if they annoy you so much?!’

My wife doesn’t annoy me, and I don’t believe she gets annoyed by me, at least not for more than a minute or two. Then, we go back to being daft, talking in stupid voices, or making jokes about death (we do that a surprising amount, really).

I’m happy we get this chance to spend more time together. Life is short (that’s why we make so many jokes about death: it’s going to happen, so we might as well have a laugh about it!). I got married to share my life with her, why would I complain now we get to spend more of that precious-little-time together?!

It doesn’t mean we don’t like to do things separately. Of course we do: she’s downstairs doing Zumba right now, while I’m thinking about whether I can squeeze in a quick game of Plague Inc. before lunch. Time apart is healthy, but don’t squander this chance to enjoy extra time together.

You never know if you’ll get the chance again.

Here's Frank, who says it better than I can:

You or I can't change the world (but maybe WE can...)

If everyone looks after the corner of the
world they're in...

Most of my views on things boil down to one thing: ‘it’s nicer’. I look at the world and wonder when (and why) people started thinking it was better to build walls, create borders, and become so protectionist.

Personally, I think it’s always nicer to help people (refugees or immigrants, for example, or the sick, elderly, or lonely.)

I cycle to work these days and see a lot of what I will call 'bad character'. It seems people show their worst side when they’re at the wheel of a car: selfish, me-first attitudes. ‘You’re in my way,’ or, ‘My journey is more important than yours.’ (I’m not blameless myself, of course, and I absolutely love cruising back past the particularly impatient drivers when they’re later stuck in traffic!)

It makes me sad to see how many people seem to care so little about other people.

On those cycle journeys, when I start to feel particularly down about it, I try and remember it’s not my job, nor would it be possible if it were, for me, or any other person on their own, to fix the whole world. It’s too great a task and too many people aren’t interested.

All we can do is look after the little corner we’re in to the best of our ability. 

Frank Turner released a new album recently: Be More Kind. Ignoring the grammatical problems with the title (‘Be Kinder’ wouldn’t have been a good rhyme, after all), I think the sentiment sums it up perfectly. No matter how kind we already are – a little or a lot – we can still be more kind.

Be more kind, my friends...

The more people who do that, through small deeds, positive words, or little changes, the more the world might just shift as a whole.

The unimportance of liking oranges (or not).

Today, I read this article in the Independent about Vicky Beeching, a prominent Christian singer/songwriter for churches.

Firstly, this isn’t a post about religion. This is a post about how we live and how we act towards others. (Some might say that’s what religion is supposed to be about…)

I can’t understand how people claiming to be ‘Christians’ can treat a person, such as Vicky Beeching, in this manner. To claim someone is ill, or possessed, just because they are gay is like persecuting someone for liking oranges. It’s nonsense.

Everyone is different. We all have different talents, likes and dislikes, and we all have different struggles to face in life. Some have health issues, others abusive parents, or financial difficulties; life is hard enough. Why make it more difficult for anyone? *

Instead, let’s focus on and celebrate the things we can do to improve the world: creating, caring, encouraging, looking after the environment, to list only a few, all hopefully with some good fun and humour along the way. 

Do your best, live well, and help (or at least let!) those around you do the same. I think the world would be a better place if we lived like this.

(And I think Jesus would agree.)

*Just to clarify: I’m not saying that being gay is a difficulty in life to be overcome like those listed (although, sadly, it seems it is such a difficulty in some circles). I’m saying that, regardless of anyone’s likes, dislikes, talents, beliefs – or indeed sexuality – there are enough problems to deal with in life without making things harder.

Reasons for creativity: are we 'adding to the noise'?

It’s been a year since I last posted on my blog. I stopped writing it because, firstly, I wanted to prioritise my novel (which I’ve now finished!) and, secondly, I became aware of the sheer volume of ‘stuff’ that is posted online. What made me think I had anything to add worth reading?

There’s a song I like by Switchfoot:

'Adding to the noise' - Switchfoot

I look at various social media sites and see a constant stream of, mostly banal, posts (no offence intended to anyone in particular!) and wonder: why should I add to it? What makes my musings more worthy of airtime than those of anyone else?

Eventually, I’ve realised it depends on why you’re writing/posting – or indeed doing anything else creative. If you’re doing it because you want to, because you feel you have something to offer that might be of benefit to the world then, great. But if you’re doing it because you want attention, and your work is screaming: ‘Look at me! Look at me!’ then maybe you shouldn’t be doing it at all.

Don’t get me wrong, I love it when my blog-views go up, or when people comment on or share my work. My ego gets a boost and I feel validated, of course I do. But it can’t become the reason for writing, otherwise I’m just selling out.

So, I’m back. Because I like writing on here, and because I think I have something worth saying.

If you disagree and it’s just more ‘noise’ to you then, please, turn off this blog…

When 'thank you' seem to be the hardest words...

I once read that ‘thank you’ is a perfectly acceptable response to most compliments.  I try to follow the rule myself, though it’s hard as someone who is naturally inclined towards self-deprecation.

We all know how irritating it can be when someone constantly refuses to accept our compliments: the girl who won’t accept someone thinks she’s beautiful; the guy who refuses to let us congratulate him on playing guitar well.  Yet, I’ve never really thought about why it’s irritating, until now…

People sometimes compliment my writing, and it always surprises me.  It’s not that I don’t believe I’m any good, it’s more that I don’t expect other people to agree with me (or to even read my stuff!)  When someone tells me I write well, I’m therefore tempted to tell them I’m not really that good.

But that’s quite disrespectful to the other person.  I’d basically be saying I know better than them, which is odd, given my self-deprecating leanings.  Or I’d be calling them a liar, or a sycophant, believing they’re telling me what I want to hear, not what they really think. (Though I would probably dress it up in my mind as ‘they’re just being polite.’)

 So, instead, I pause for a second, allowing my brain to process the fact this person may actually like what I write, and then I thank them. 

Even if they’re wrong, and my writing is terrible, they are still entitled to their opinion and I am grateful it’s a positive one.

Next time someone pays you a compliment, accept it graciously.  They might just be telling the truth.

(Liz Mosley, if you’re reading this, thank you!  Your compliment last weekend inspired this post.)

Finding good role models: thoughts from a train following a best friend's wedding.

I had the privilege of witnessing one of my longest-serving, and best, friends get married yesterday. I sat in the reception and listened to various people comment on the excellent qualities of my friend, knowing that it was an accurate representation of this man I've known for my whole life.

As I sat there I couldn't help wondering what people might say about me should I get married again. And I felt a sense of shame: I doubt my references would be as glowing. At least, not if they were to be accurate.

'When I look at myself I don't see the man I wanted to be; somewhere down the line I slipped off track. One step up and two steps back.' - Bruce Springsteen, 'One Step Up'

But the man I saw yesterday, my friend, is still very much in my life, and we both expressed a strong desire to try and recapture some of the closeness that, as so often seems to happen as life goes on, has somehow been lost, just through the passage of time and that all-powerful force: 'stuff'.

In my friend I see a true 'man', and an excellent role model. Someone who I want to emulate, not necessarily in outward accomplishments or actions, but in strength of character, in loyalty of friendship, and in a personification of love. And I don't apologise for sounding overly sentimental.

Congratulations, mate. May your marriage be life-long and full of joy. I'm glad I have the opportunity to continue to be friends with, and learn from, you.

The key to a better 2013.

You choose the kind of year you're going to have.

Decisions can change the course of our lives.  And, sometimes, they’re difficult and we need courage, stamina and wisdom to go through with what we know to be right.

As I look back on 2012, I’m pleased I’ve made some good decisions.  In my life, it has been rare I could say that.

Financially, I chose to change jobs to one that pays more, even though it isn’t my desired career.  I knew I needed more money coming in, and now the future looks brighter as a result.  I won’t see the dividends of this choice for some time, while I pay off my overdraft etc., but it was the right choice.

The new job was also the right choice for my mental and emotional well-being.  Changing jobs is always difficult: it’s frightening and stressful.  But I knew, if I stayed in my previous role, I’d be on the road to stress-related Depression again.  So I made the tough choice: I took the new job, ignoring the voice telling me: ‘Better the devil you know.’

That voice is often wrong.

It’s tempting to take the easy route, especially when the better choice can take years to pay off.  We might stick in the job we don’t like because it’s safe and we know it inside-out.  Or we might spend on credit so we can have what we want, rather than look to save for the life we hope to have in ten years.

It's up to you if you want to be
in the 'driving seat' of
your next year.

As 2013 begins, I’m looking to keep making good decisions.  For example, first off, I’m selling my car: I don’t use it much and it’s an expensive luxury to have ‘just in case’.

For this coming year, think about where you want to be and what you want to be doing by 2014.  Then start making the choices now that will move you closer to those goals.

And, when faced with difficult decisions, don’t be put off making the right choice.  It’s the way to a better life in the long run.

A very happy new year to you all and all the best for 2013.

Who are we when we're online?

Is who we appear to be on the various social networks who we actually are?  Or do you, like me, try to appear to be cooler/deeper/funnier?

I spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about what I do and don’t say online. 

I always try to say things ‘on message’ – stuff about being the best we can be, about being creative, and being positive.  I feel as though I have my own ‘brand' and I don’t want to let it down by posting something too personal, or too negative. 

I even worry about how things might appear to a prospective publisher in the future: will my website put them off?  What about my music?  Does it show I’m too unfocused, dabbling in too many media?  And what of this blog?  Would they think I was putting too much of myself ‘out there’, displaying too many weaknesses, or talking about things a fiction-writer has no business commenting on?

Every Facebook status or Tweet is deliberated over, and I have deleted within minutes many posts that, in hindsight, I feel are not appropriate for the person I want to appear to be.

And that’s the point: I (and I suspect I am not alone) project a particular persona online and this even spills over into ‘real life’ as well

Some people say we should be authentic and not hide our ‘true selves’; people who matter will accept us as we are and those that don’t aren’t worth it. 

But I’m not in that school of thought.  I believe it’s okay to want to be different, to want to be ‘better’.  And I believe the best way to become what you want to be is to start acting like that until it becomes natural. 

Don't get me wrong, I don’t think anyone should be coerced into being different; if you’re happy with who you are then crack on and be it. 

Otherwise, be the person you want to be.  Twitter and Facebook might be a small start...

What makes you feel most like ‘yourself’?

'My' tools.

I think there are things we do that we feel are inherently ‘us’.   For me, it’s things like creating music, or writing stories.

Sometimes, I don’t do these things for a while; I might be busy or, more likely, become distracted by games/movies/whatever and so don’t do those things that make me feel like myself.

It can actually make me feel low, without me necessarily realising why I’m low.  Then, suddenly, one day I’ll switch on my PC, open up Cubase, and work on my album.  And I start to remember a part of myself; it’s like a reawakening of something inside me, and it spills over to the rest of my life – my relationships, my work.  I feel like I’ve remembered who I am, why I’m here, what I want to be/do in my life, and things sort of click back into place a little.  It’s almost like a reset button.

Without doing what I’m ‘built’ to do, I’m less than me.*  There’s a part of me that’s restless, dissatisfied, unfulfilled.

I don’t create music because it’s my job, or because it could make me money, or because I might get recognition and affirmation for it.  I make music because I enjoy the process and get a real kick out of having created something from scratch that would never have existed if it wasn’t for me.  Something from inside me is now out there, apart from me.  I’ve said before it must be, to a small extent, how a parent feels about their new born baby.

I firmly believe, as human beings, we’re all creative, as I’ve mentioned before in this blog.  I think a key to being ‘well’, or being the best we can be, is finding out what it is we can create, and doing it with everything we can give.

I think it’s the best way of being truly ‘ourselves’.

*Whether or not we believe we’re designed, I still feel we each have innate qualities and talents that make us who we are.

Knowing your limits.

Not everyone can do this...

We all have limitations, no matter how talented or skilled we are.  And, while it’s good to push those limits, to stretch ourselves beyond what we can already do and improve, sometimes it’s important to know there are things we can’t do and should probably leave alone for the good of our health.

I’m talking mainly about mental well-being.  I know that, for me, recently I’ve had to accept that there are certain things I just can’t do; my mind could not cope with the stress or responsibility of a manager’s job, for example. 

This might sound pretty negative but I personally think it’s a good thing – if we know we can’t do something then, rather than forcing ourselves and making ourselves poorly, it’s probably better to do something else and have a better quality of life.

Continuing with work as an example, accepting a job less challenging or more mundane might seem like a sacrifice – we’ll probably end up bored and possibly unmotivated as a result.  However, we (or certainly ‘I’) might have the mental capacity to ‘be’ better outside of work, to give more to our loved ones and our hobbies – in other words, the things that make us happy.

Of course, some people find happiness in their work, and I envy them but I’m just not one of them, not until I’m a published author anyway!  And, the most likely way of that (or any other dream we may have) happening is by having the health/capacity to work towards it.

 In the long run, that ‘sacrifice’ might be worthwhile.

Dating and who we really are.

I love this list. I know it's a bit small,
but hopefully you can click it and zoom in?!

Every so often I get to iron my best shirt, have a second shower of the day, put on some cologne, do my hair (or what’s left of it), and take some poor, unsuspecting lucky girl out for dinner.

I reckon I’m pretty good at the whole ‘first date’ thing.  The logistics are simple enough: book a nice (non-chain, naturally) restaurant, make sure you have enough cash to pay the bill, show up on time, etc. 

And then comes the date itself: assuming we’re not hermits, by the time we reach adulthood we have plenty of life-history to talk through – how could we possibly struggle to find things to say?  There are family holidays, or maybe time spent studying, or career choices, or future hopes and dreams – plenty of questions to ask and topics to bring up.  I’m not saying sit there like some quiz show host, firing off questions, but pick some that will start a conversation.  Generally, I believe people will like someone who lets them talk about themselves.

But, alas, in spite of all my confidence at the first date stage, my relationships have, thus far, not lasted.  And that’s because life is not one continual first date.

A date takes considerable effort and energy, and I tend to fall in to the trap of trying to keep up that level of intensity for weeks...months...even years.  Inevitably, it’s going to fail.  I’m going to get tired and the ‘perfection’ will crash and burn. 

I think this links with being uncomfortable about showing someone our real selves.  On a first date, we want to make a good/perfect impression; we want them to think we’re amazing.  And that’s achievable – for one night.  However, we can’t be ‘perfect’ forever; the real ‘us’ needs to be good enough too.

And in order for it to be good enough for someone else, it has to be good enough for ourselves.  Otherwise we’ll never be willing to show it, and never get out of the cycle of trying to be perfect. 

Someone suggested once I may even sabotage my relationships myself from the inside.  I don’t know whether it’s true but, if it is, it could be because I can’t deal with the prospect of not being ‘perfect’.  As I say, I don’t know.

Accepting who we are and that we do have some very good traits, worth putting up with the not-so-great ones for, is a really healthy state of mind, I think.  Let’s try and work towards it. 

Then I/we might be able to stop continually trying so hard with everyone I/we meet.

Taking advice and being who we really are.

Normally in life, when I have a problem, I talk to all my friends and family about it and end up with lots of voices in my head (theirs, rather than ones relating to any sort of insanity – I learned to tune those out years ago, after that second murder...) each giving me advice on what I should do.

I don’t mind that; I like knowing what other people think I ought to do (if only because it provides food for my innate desire to do the opposite of what people say).  The downside is that sometimes it’s hard to know what to do because there are so many pieces of advice floating around.  It can get a bit confusing.

Recently I’ve had a bit of space from my usual confidants for one reason and another and it’s been interesting.  I’ve found my own ‘voice’ in my mind is clearer and I can better understand what I want, how I feel, what I think I should do.  It’s been affirming to realise the course of action I’ve taken/am taking is the one I think is right.

I’m not about to change my usual way of dealing with things, and will no doubt be chewing my friends’ ears off again in the near future.  But sometimes we can get so caught up in what everyone else thinks, in the way other people believe we should live our lives, that we forget what it means to be ‘us’.  It’s easy to think other people know better how to live – a symptom of low self-esteem if ever there was one – and to try and emulate, or even please, them.  But who says they’re right?

Someone I know on Facebook posted the picture I’ve included on this post yesterday and it really struck me.  More than anyone else in my life, I am the one who makes me feel inferior, or ‘worthless’.  And I suspect I’m not the only one.

But we’re not worthless.  No one else is ‘better’ than us at living this life; we’re all just making it up as we go along.  And whilst it’s good to take advice and listen to trusted people, it’s just that – advice.  Our own choices/feelings/beliefs are equally valid.

And sometimes it’s those we need to trust.

Love Does.

I’ve raved about this book for a while now, and I finished it this week.  Love Does, by Bob Goff (2012, Thomas Nelson), is incredible.  It’s filled with stories of how Bob has spent his life loving people – and I mean really loving them. 

There are few tales of hearts, flowers, or poetry, but many of him taking off on flights to Uganda to help free imprisoned children.  Or of him letting people into his life in whatever way they need.  Or of refusing to give up on a dream because he knows it’s what he would love to do.

Even the one chapter on the pursuit of his now-wife is a tale of unrelenting hope, of choosing to keep on loving ‘Sweet Maria’, in spite of her apparent disinterest.  He tells the story of being ‘trigger-locked (on her) while she treated me with a polite distance’. 

In the end though, he says: ‘Fortunately, Maria understood that for some of us – most of us – the language of love is laced with whimsy.  It sometimes borders on the irrational.  Like I’ve been saying, though, love is a do thing.  It’s an energy that has to be dissipated.’  ((I would say love almost always borders on the irrational, but there you go.)

Bob is a Christian and writes as such, including many references to how he believes his faith impacts on his chosen path.  But it’s not a cringe-inducing faith, or even a faith particularly recognisable as being the same as is often seen in ‘the Church’.  So please don’t be put off by it!

Why am I telling you about this book?  Because as I’ve read it, it kept resonating with me, with who I am trying to be.  I, too, believe that ‘love does’ – love is above all else a verb, and the only way to show it is to do something with it. 

That can mean being there at 3am for someone when everyone’s had enough.  Or it can mean taking the hit when they need to rant at ... someone.  Or it can mean ignoring how much something is hurting, because the person needs you to be strong for them.

It can even mean turning up and doing a job we really don’t feel like doing today, because it will benefit someone else in need.

Most of this is pretty contrary to popular opinion.  Many people counsel to ‘look after yourself’, to make sure we’re not going to get hurt.  And whilst that might seem like wisdom, it isn’t the way of love as I understand it.

Love puts the other person first, regardless of cost.  And sometimes the cost is high but, even so, I believe love goes right ahead and does it anyway.

Love Does is available from Amazon here.

Want to be known for being 'awesome'...?

Sometimes the best 'superheroes'
are hiding...

A lot of the time we want credit for the things we do.  We want people to recognise the good we’ve done, and to reward us in some way.

In the book I keep referring to lately, Love Does (Thomas Nelson, 2012), Bob Goff  talks about being secretly incredible, or ‘being awesome.’  No song and dance, no ‘look at me and what I’ve done’ fanfare, just doing stuff for people or being there for them simply because you can, because you wanted to, because they needed you to.

I don’t believe in Karma as such, but my niece forwarded a text message to me earlier this week that said: ‘Karma saw your sadness and said: “hard times are over”.’  I thought it was a sweet sentiment and it actually made me feel better.  Not because I believed the Universe was about to redress some cosmic balance of fairness in my life, but because I believed I had been doing the right things and so, perhaps eventually, I’d see the benefit of that.

And, even if I don’t, at least I can be satisfied with what I’d done.

I want to be known for being an ‘awesome’ guy, of course I do.  But I’d much rather people just saw it in me as part of my nature, rather than because I showed off about it. 

In my experience, people do notice show-offs, and often give them rewards and affection.  But people who don’t show-off, who just get on with doing the good they can, get noticed too.  Maybe not as quickly, or as obviously, but when it happens it will probably be by people who are looking for something deeper, something closer, something more ... meaningful.  And I reckon that’s worth far more.

So keep being awesome, even if it seems no-one is watching.  I actually think that’s a pre-requisite of genuine ‘awesomeness’ anyway...

Making a connection.

Connecting with people is what we’re all about.  I believe it’s an essential part of being alive.  Many people search for that ‘one’ connection, while others are happy to connect with many.  I think very few people are happy with solitude, at least not for very long.

I’ve heard it said recently that we’re in touch with people much more often than ever before – it’s ‘too much’, apparently.  And I often hear how tools such as Facebook and Twitter are generating false connections, or the appearance of relationship without the depth or benefits of ‘traditional’ methods of knowing people.

I disagree with most of that.  I think the more ways there are of connecting with people, the better, and, as someone who lives alone, I’m constantly pleased to have so many different ways of keeping in touch.  I love text messages, emails, Facebook-chats, and the odd phone call. 

If we all want to connect with other human beings, how can it be a bad thing to have so many ways of doing it?  I accept that many of the people I have as ‘friends’ on Facebook don’t really know me, and vice versa.  But they know me more than they would if we weren’t on there, especially those who live some distance away. 

Of course, the people I see in ‘real life’ probably know me better still, and I feel immensely privileged to have made at least one fantastic, deep connection recently that I hope will only grow stronger still and last throughout the years.  Such connections can affirm who we are; they can bring light into otherwise mundane days; they can foster joy in unlikely moments. 

Those ‘kindred spirits’ (as one of my friend’s terms them) are one of life’s true delights, and who’s to say where we might meet them?  Perhaps they’re on your Facebook right now, or maybe waiting for a text message, or, sure, they might be heading down the pub for the evening, ready to bump into you over the quiz machine.

However and wherever, reaching out to another person can rarely be a bad thing.  So why not make a connection right now?  You never know where it might lead...

You owe it to the world simply to be you.

There is beauty everywhere - especially in you.

No-one else in the world, or in history, can ever, nor will ever, be you.  The things you do, the things you create, could never be done by anyone else in the same way.

I was talking to my Dad about this, specifically to do with the music I create.  I play around with recording, mostly because I enjoy it rather than harbour any hope of being a paid artist some day.  But in the course of my ‘playing’, I create something.  I put out into the world something that would never have existed if it wasn’t for me.

I get an enormous kick out of that.

Often we find ourselves envious of other people and the talents they have.  We wish we could do things others can, or as well as they can.  There have been moments I’ve seen or heard a musician and wondered why I even bother trying when there are such people doing it so much better.  (Martyn Joseph had this affect on me a few years ago.)

But that’s not the point.  Sure, they may be doing it very well indeed, but they’re not doing it the same as I do.  My songs are not theirs.  

I believe we all have something to offer this world: something new, something unique.  We have been created/evolved/both (delete as appropriate to you) with abilities, perspectives, loves and passions that are ours, and ours alone. 

Don’t deprive the world of what you have to offer by trying to be like someone else, or because you don’t feel you’re good enough.  Never believe that lie. 

You are the only one who can be you.  And you are beautiful.

'You are the world and you're remarkable.' -
Jason Mraz.

Being who we want to be.

Me some amount of time ago
before all 'this'.

A couple of years ago I decided to make it my aim that everywhere I go, each relationship I have, any connection I make, every moment I’m around would be better, simply because I’m there.  (It’s the ‘ambition to change the world, one moment at a time’ at the top right up there!)

I don’t mean it egotistically – I don’t think, Right, I’m here, so everything’s obviously great now! I just mean I want to be a breath of fresh air, to help people, or give them something to smile about.  Whether it’s a witticism, or a song I might play, or buying them a drink, or giving them a hug...or just being around when they need someone.   Sometimes it’s just about being available.

There’s a song I really like at the moment which contains the line: ‘I like to be the light that’s missing and remind you every minute of the future isn’t written...not yet’ –  I love that line, and I shared this song with someone today, quoting it in particular.

They replied: ‘Those words stood out to me – sounds like something you would write.’

I don’t think they realise how much of a compliment that was to me.  Not because they think I could write as well as Mr Mraz (if only!), but because for them to believe I might have written it means they recognise the quality in me – of trying to ‘be the light that’s missing’ in people’s lives.  I felt I must be succeeding in my aim.

Here's the song: 

Often it’s a challenge – I don’t always feel like being the light; some days I feel like curling up in a corner crying!  And on those days, I occasionally wonder who is there for me.  But I try not to think like that too much, because it’s outside of what I’m aiming to do.  And besides, I do have some great friends who often have to listen to me going on about whatever is troubling me!

The point is, I decided I wanted to be like this, and so started acting like it.  At first it didn’t come naturally, but I think that’s true of many things we do in life.  And now, according to one person at least, it seems it has become ‘me’, and I am delighted about that.

If we want to be something, whether it’s an optimist, more outgoing, more confident, a better listener ... whatever, then the best thing to do is to start acting like it.  Eventually, with practice that thing starts to become who we really are.  And it's worth it.

So, how do we be who we want to be?  We just ... be it.

Hidden talents: more on Comfort Zones.

Ever think you might be missing out?

Recently I’ve made a bit of a catchphrase of: ‘Constantly defying assumptions.’  No-one expected me to be a half-decent singer/songwriter; no-one expected me to be learning Modern Jive dancing (aka Ceroc).

But I am.  (There’s some other stuff about people imagining I’m a clean-cut sweetie, and I’m making damn sure to blow those opinions apart too...)

To be honest, I never expected myself to be some of those things either.  I was never one for dancing and, as a kid, I was the shyest little thing around.  If you’d told my parents or teachers I’d be standing at the front of a pub singing songs, they wouldn’t have believed it.

But I tried it and found I could do it.  Perhaps not as well as some, but well enough to enjoy it, and that’s all that matters.  You don’t have to be the best in the world at something to have fun with it.

Something about a Comfort Zone is, if you don’t expand it, it shrinks.  We might be happy with our little friendship group, going to the local pub, but what happens when those friends are not available?  We might feel we have to stay in.  And then we might think those friends don’t want to see us and, before we know it, that settled place in our Local is not so comfortable any more.

Yet, if we try something new, perhaps a new place or, horror of horrors, a dance class, we might suddenly discover something we thought was way out of our Comfort Zone is now right in the middle of it.  We’ve pushed the boundary and our operating space is much larger for it.

So go on...what’s to lose?  Who knows – you might find yourself on Strictly in a few years.  You never know...

That lovin' feelin'.

In British culture we don’t really go in for ‘touchy-feely’, which I think is a shame because I’m quite a tactile person.  It’s something (else) I miss about Leamington: the standard greeting was a kiss on the cheek with the ladies (or two, if you remembered they were from mainland Europe) and a proper manly hug with your guy friends.  (I’m sure this isn’t limited to Leamington and maybe time will bring it out in Nottingham.)  

The 5 Love Languages is quite a popular book/concept.  And it’s one I like: the idea that we each show and feel love better in particular ways.  You can read more about it here, but the list of so-called ‘languages’ is: 

• Words of affirmation
• Quality time
• Receiving gifts
• Acts of service
• Physical touch

For me, physical touch, quality time and words of affirmation are the most important.  I’m not so bothered about gifts (though they’re always nice...) or acts of service (the washing up can wait until tomorrow, let’s cuddle instead!).  In fact, physical touch is probably my top one.  After all, it usually covers ‘quality time’ as well – you can’t hug someone without being with them!

It’s not just in relationships though.  Research suggests that physical contact is very important generally in human beings: without it, we can become stunted socially, emotionally and mentally.  I certainly find spending too much time on my own erodes my self-esteem, as though my brain starts to wonder what’s wrong with me that is making people not want to be close. 

But maybe that’s not such a big deal for people with, say, receiving gifts in their top three instead. 

I’d recommend thinking about what your particular ‘languages’ are.  I found it helpful in understanding ‘me’, as well as being a practical tool for relating to others.  (Plus, it’s kinda fun if you like those quiz-questionnaire type things!)

And maybe overcome your ‘Britishness’ and give your friends a huge hug next time you see them.  You might both feel better for it.