I am revolting!

HOLD ON!!! Before you rush off to send me soap, scrubs, perfumes and deodorants, I am actually referring to:

revolt |rɪˈvəʊlt|

verb

1. [intrans.] rise in rebellion

as opposed to:

2. [trans.] cause to feel disgust

Though I cannot guarantee this will avoid the onset of definition No.2, I'll do my best to prevent it.

So with reference to definition No.1, why am I revolting? Because, quite frankly, I have to save myself from the jaws of insanity.

You see... I'm beginning to feel like I am talking to myself, which I've heard is one of the first signs of going poco loco. When I go two days in a row without receiving a comment, I start loosing my mind!

Thoughts like, "That's it, it's all over... nobody likes it (me) anymore... I'm boring... I suck... what a waste of time (mine and everybody else's)... why am I doing this ridiculous blog anyway..." and it goes on and on and on. I'm millimetres away from rocking backwards and forwards, mumbling random abusive comments in very Tourette's-like impulses.

Seriously.

Why am I so desperate to have feedback? Is it because I lack belief in myself? What about the old adage, no news is good news. Should I assume that just because I haven't heard anything, that everything is a-okay? For me the opposite is true. When I don't hear anything, I assume the worst.

Is that wrong? Am I wrong? (happy to be wrong at this juncture)

According to new age literature, what we seek must come from within - which at first, I agreed with. But over time, I began to question that rationale - does that mean performers should not seek applause, dogs need not vie for treats, primary (junior) students forget about the gold star (or scratch and smell sticker, my all time favourite) and, here it comes... bloggers not want for comments?

One of the objectives of Project Grace 2010, is to be able to ask for what I want powerfully. Now this isn't easy for me, so it's going to take practice, practice, practice... and more practice.

So here it is, in writing (as I screw my face up and cringe as I type)...

I would like to receive at least one comment at the bottom of each blog. That means if you're the first, I am asking you to scare yourself and leave a comment (go on, you can do it, I know you can). Facebookers have an extra challenge of leaving a comment outside of our grey-blue friend - yep, we are upping the ante folks (Gaz, you're excused for the time being as you have enough frequent commenter points to fly you to Mexico).

Phew, done. Uncomfortable? Yes. As I said - practice, practice, practice.

Until tomorrow, practice asking for what you want, avoid insanity and bypass the revolting route.

Grace xx

Choose your dreams

Imagine this...

It's 4:30am, the alarm goes off.

You abruptly awake from a dream. You were sipping a deliciously fruity cocktail poolside, while George Clooney, in scuba gear, played a pink baby grand piano (Does he even play? Do they even come in pink?)

Meanwhile, a Marilyn Monroesque Angelina Jolie sang the French national anthem in a dress made of newspaper shreds - what the?

You let out a big yawn and stretch as you adjust to your current surroundings - your reality.

It's raining outside, the wind is howling and you have to be at work by the ungodly hour of 6am.

How do you feel?

But wait, I didn't tell you the whole story...

You're going to work early in order to leave at lunch time. You have a few loose ends to tie before you, my friend, board a plane that's heading for the Bahamas. This is the morning of your 21-day vacation - woohoo!

How do you feel NOW?

It makes a difference doesn't it?

Our future shapes how we feel in the present. If we're living into a future that inspires, excites and thrills us, we'd all be jumping out of bed before the alarm each morning.

Can choosing our future be as simple as choosing a holiday from a travel brochure?

Let's think about this. No matter what our constraints are, be it time or budget, don't we manage to create a holiday that works for us? One that we look forward to.

A bright future, one that we create, is like equipping ourselves with good suspension on the highway of life. All the little bumps in the road are just that, little bumps.

Perhaps we ought to take holiday planning as a template of how to create a future that's equally as exciting.

Back to the story...

When you get to the Bahamas, you stumble on a film set of a romantic comedy titled 'Le Plongeur'. You learn that George Clooney really can't play, baby grands do come in pink and his co-star, Angelina Jolie, is in all the local papers for sporting a new blonde look, thus discovering you're somewhat psychic.

Until tomorrow, may all your dreams become reality - so choose wisely.

Grace xx

Does every cloud have a silver lining? In memory of James Williamson

I'd planned to write a light-hearted upbeat piece after yesterday's pensive post.

I was looking at my current state of affairs, trying to find the funny side of having a parking ticket, overdue bill notice and a sink full of dishes.

No sooner did I come up with the title 'Dark side of the spoon' (which I thought was a stroke of genius) when I noticed Patrick staring at his phone, his face depleted of joy.

"James Williamson died at the Cape Epic" he said in a stunned, monotone.

"James? The same James we met at the Greek restaurant?"

"Yes, same James"

"WHAT????????"

Both in complete shock, our hearts sank. We were, and are, in disbelief.

Patrick and I met the wonderful, friendly, down-to-earth, sweet James one week before he was to fly to South Africa to compete in the Cape Epic. We were moved by James' gentle and joyful nature, vowing to catch up with him when he returned (you know when you meet someone special and say "I'd like to be friends with that person" and then imagine how you would form such a friendship? Well, that was our experience with James).

James (it's so hard to say) was 26 years of age and editor of Enduro magazine. He'd been a World Champion mountain biker, which I only found out today after Googling the cause (which is still unknown - he was unable to be roused by his team mate in the morning). James was so unassuming I had no idea he was a champion, and yet I'm not surprised that he was.

James was so, so, so lovely... and so, so, so young.

What I want to know is, does every cloud have a silver lining?

As much as I've searched, I just can't seem to find it today.

James was excited about his trip to South Africa, it was something he'd looked forward to for a long time. While we're expected to 'look at the bright side' of the situation and be thankful that he was happy and got to live out his dream, I can't help feel that this is all too premature. Someone so lovely is surely needed on Earth a little bit longer (if not a lot longer).

All I feel is sadness. Sadness and loss. Remarkable considering I'd only spent a few hours sitting across the table from him; such was the impression he'd left on me (I feel indulgent expressing my upset and cannot fathom what his girlfriend, family and friends are feeling right now).

Do we always have to see the bright side of everything? Can't we just be sad because some things are just plain sad. I totally appreciate how we don't want to get bogged by sorrow. I know we're encouraged to move on. I can see how being 'stuck' can play havoc with our lives. But surely it's okay to be sad when something like this happens, isn't it?

Sometimes I feel that constant optimism can be tiring and, to be honest, a little fake if we can't honour the times when things upset us.

While many new age dialogues are worthy of consideration, I question the subject of death. We're told that sadness comes from our attitude and the stories we tell ourselves. That by changing our meaning of death, we'd somehow change our emotional response to it. We're told there are cultures where death is celebrated - where are they? I've never seen them and wonder if it's all a myth.

What I have seen, are dogs lamenting over the loss of a loved one. I have heard their weeping wails, I have seen their long faces and I have felt their distress. I ask my self - is that because they have a negative attitude? Are they just responding to the stories they tell themselves? Do they need to change their meaning of death? My answer is - I think not.

I've concluded that it's okay to be upset by death. Dare I say, it's normal.

Sometimes, I think it's okay to not feel you have to be strong. I think it's okay to cry. I think it's okay to be sad. I think it's okay not to have explanations or answers. I think it's okay if things don't make sense. The secret is, not to get 'stuck' in the weakness, the tears, the sorrow, the unexplained un-knowingness and the senselessness.

There is a time for grief, a time for mourning, and a time for moving on.

To all the family, friends and colleagues of James Williamson, and to Niki, I feel for your loss. I hope your path to healing and resolve is swift. To James, may your spirit ride on forever.

Until tomorrow, a place in time where we assume we'll be...

Grace xx