Lighthouse

Remember my little boat metaphor? Well, there are times when I'm sailing on life's ocean when I don't know where I'm going.

I bob up and down aimlessly wondering how did I get here and where am I going to. The most bizarre thing is that I cannot pinpoint when and where I went off course.

It's times like these I need a lighthouse.

Lighthouses are a solid pillar of strength, firmly grounded and emit homing beacons for those that seek it (much like the light at the end of my tunnel).

Friends are like lighthouses. They remind you where you've sailed from and facilitate in navigating where you're heading to. They have the uncanny ability to shed light on subjects, enabling you to see something from a new perspective. They are the guiding light that we seek.

Tonight I bumped into such a lighthouse. Someone I have known and loved since I was an awkward, pimply-faced teenager. Seeing her filled me with instant relief and sense of comfort. I returned home with a knowing feeling that all will be well.

Until tomorrow, spare a loving thought and gratitude for all the lighthouses in your life.

Grace xx

Dawn's Gift

The first word I said, or at least thought, this morning was WOW!

I was experiencing one of those rare phenomena when the colour of dawn drenches the entire interior of one's abode.

It was like the sun took a little excursion and was shining from the inside of my walls. The entire space was filled with an intense hue of vibrant rosy orange.

Simply amazing.

I dashed to the window to witness a spectacle that had me in complete awe. I was mesmerised and filled with inspiration. So much so, that I was compelled to grab my camera and share the vision with you (see pic above).

I live a bohemian existence, calling a first floor of disused offices my home. It is a colourful space with furnishings and trinkets from my late grandparents that give me great comfort. Though the word 'kitsch' may be an accurate description, I find it both amusing and warming.

The view from my window is less than beautiful, with concrete being a major feature. However this morning's sunrise made me realise that while the surrounding buildings didn't change, the light altered their appearance. For the first time, what I saw out my window exceeded beauty - it was divine.

This reminded me of something I already know, but often forget.

Concrete blocks and power lines are, let's be honest, less than desirable to gaze at on any given day. These seemingly drab and static objects are transformed into something of pure poetry when they're painted aglow with dawn's magical light.

Dawn's announcement of a new day is our opportunity to start afresh. The sense of optimism and promise is uplifting. Perhaps when we sleep through dawn's awakening (or are too busy in the shower or getting ready to notice), we do ourselves an injustice. If we are not present to receive dawn's greeting, we miss out on the gift - starting the day with a clean slate.

How many times have you made a special effort to see dawn when you're on holidays and marvel at the beauty of where you are? What about if I told you that dawn has the power to make everything beautiful wherever you are. We can all create profound holiday-like moments of positivity, enthusiasm and utter beauty every day... all we have to do is get up when dawn stirs and look out our window.

Until tomorrow, may you rise to receive dawn's gift.

Grace xx

My Light at the End of My Tunnel

Sounds like a classic book-come-movie title doesn't it? The looming sense of drama made only bearable by the glimmering hope of it all ending well.

Are we driven by the prospect of a happy ending? Is that what keeps us going, despite the crap that keeps flying at us? Is this an intrinsic human survival mechanism that keeps us from being extinct?

In 1997, I resembled Jamal in 'Slumdog Millionaire' after he took a dive in the sewer in order to get his Bollywood idol's autograph - I was covered in sh*t. Not literally, but metaphorically, I was up to my eyeballs in it.

I was studying wine marketing full time at university (fun but fraught with danger of 'overdoing it' in the tasting department). I held three jobs. I was learning to be an announcer and disc jockey (I love that word) at a local community radio station. I was hosting professional wine master classes twice a month. I partied every weekend operating on two hours sleep. I had recently separated from a five year relationship and in the shaky beginnings of a new one. And to top it all off, a very close and beloved family member was diagnosed with terminal, inoperable cancer.

I collapsed.

After several visits to my doctor complaining of extended PMS (pre menstrual syndrome for readers who haven't come into contact with it - lucky you) I was given the diagnosis: clinical depression.

What followed was months and months (and months) of a terrible battle, which took place at the bottom of my emotional cesspit. I refer to this period as my 'Dark Ages'. Even now those days merge into one murky memory that's best described as sludge. While I cannot be clear on what happened when or with whom, I do remember one thing - my light at the end of my tunnel.

My light was someone very close to me and my family who suffered a mental illness. I have vague memories of this jolly giant whom I looked up to with awe and pure love. I was always greeted with surprise lollies (candy), which my little hands would dig out of a deep pocket.

When I was five, something horrible happened; that beautiful light was extinguished. What's worse, is that their warming glow was taken from us by their own hand. Even at such a young age I could feel the tragic sense of loss. The impact and devastation was clear, it was palpable.

In my darkest hours (there were many of them), I would remember my wonderful jolly giant - my light at the end of my tunnel. If I couldn't go on for me, then I had to go on for someone other than me. I had to create a purpose greater than myself that made it worth the effort to keep going. I could not allow my loved one's flame to be extinguished in vain. And so, despite my compromised mental state, I deemed that my life was worth saving for theirs.

Whether we care to admit it or not, most of us like real-life happy endings. Perhaps it's a reminder to us all that no matter what challenges we face, we can rise above adversity. Searching for a light at the end of the tunnel is the hope we seek to make our trials and tribulations endurable and worthwhile. So if you are (or someone you know is) having a dark moment - ask yourself, who is the light at the end your tunnel?

Until tomorrow, may your light continue to shine.

Grace xx