Sometimes I feel like I’m living in the Truman Show.


I walked in the rain today. It was the type of rain that looks like pitiful specks of droplets floating down from the sky or like a gentle mist perhaps. Yet when you’re actually out in it, your glasses fog up, your hair goes frizzy and your pumps are soaking wet. Well, that’s how it was for me anyway.

I tried to get lost today. This morning’s choice of song was “Bitter Sweet Symphony” by The Verve. It’s a masterpiece of a song. It reminds me of water, the way the music ebbs and flows like the tide coming in and out on the beach. The pace is also good for a brisk walk, and there is also a touch of mystery/intrigue that fuels my imagination enough to allow my alter ego pretend I’m walking like a catwalk model in a music video. So there I was, walking along, skipping up to the pavement and venturing round narrow pathways, avoiding school/work traffic and all the while heavenly drops of rain fell like jewels, catching the sunlight on the way down. It was so atmospheric and inspiring.

And to my total surprise I found myself stood across the road from a familiar sight. I stopped walking and stared with a knowing smile on my face, ignoring the people walking past me who must have been wondering what the heck this pink-haired lady was doing just standing in the rain looking across the road.


So, What did I see?

Remember last week I wrote about a cool experience I had when walking…? I found loads of young daffodils that were only just starting to open. Well, this morning, my subconscious lead me back to them. And this time, they were open a lot more, looking like beautiful yellow bells in the rich green grass. Drops of rain glistened on their petals and the scene before me is now burned in my memory. It was a picture of hope, new-beginnings, promise, but also grey skies were overhead and the rain was both life-giving to the daffodils, but also could quite easy drown them.


It just struck me how this is like life. Every twist and turn presents us with things that can be the beginning of new life and possibilities and also closed doors and abrupt ends to beautiful chapters.

I threw my hood down and closed my eyes, allowing the rain to fall down my forehead and cheeks, smudging my make up and drip down to my collar. My senses soaked in everything around me.

My nostrils were overwhelmed with the scent of wet grass and diesel fumes. I could hear a bus rumbling past me, wind swept across my face as it passed by. I opened my eyes to look at the sky and saw two seagulls in the sky. I might have looked a bit like Leonardo Dicaprio in the Beach.

For a moment, I felt wonderment, exhilarated and a twinge of sadness. Feeling simultaneously small and insignificant and fundamentally responsible and capable of good.


I re-dedicated my life to doing good. I promised my father in heaven to do my best to be obedient to Him and helpful to others, I promised my Dad who is also in Heaven to look after myself and the ones he loves, and I promised the Earth I would respect and care for her.

I walked back to my car smiling to myself, feeling so present. So HERE. And NOW. Not day-dreaming about being a superhero, or thinking about the day I’ll be 20lbs lighter…or when I am singing on the stage auditioning for the X Factor…I was here. I was walking, feeling the uneven ground beneath my soggy feet. Feeling beads of water run down my fingers and drop to the ground as I marched forward.

I noticed a woman helping her elderly parents get into a car and my eyes brimmed with tears. But then my heart warmed, seeing that this woman knew her father into his elder years. Something I will never know. I saw that they were kind and gentle with each other. Then a sinister voice in my mind reminded me what could lay in store for this family, the pain and suffering that comes with loss…how will it happen? When will it happen? Who will it happen to? Who will be left behind? I shook my head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts and continued walking.

When I sat down, with the door shut, I sighed and turned the key in the ignition to start the engine. For a few moments I just sat there, my hands resting on the leather steering wheel, feeling the vibrations of the engine turning over and letting my ears take in the grumbling sounds from the exhaust. Then I turned my head and noticed the house I was parked outside of. The bay window had a white net curtain, with several figurines of Angels sitting on the windowsill. I was taken aback to see that they were not facing inside the house…but they were looking out at the street. I thought how odd that was, that surely these beautiful figurines would be positioned so if you were sitting in the living room, you could enjoy seeing these lovely figurines and their angelic faces?

Clearly, whoever put them there wanted to send out a message to passers by. Today I was that person to take the message. And my heart thanked the person who engineered this. For me to have parked in that exact location, to stop and look at the window, and for the figurines to be facing me.

A perfect example of how life can just seem to be all planned out. What if the “Adjustment Bureau” was a little less fictional than we think?

Take notice of the little things around you. Take moments to breathe and ground yourself, remembering who you are, where you’re going, what your hopes and dreams are. Put your phone away. Be present. You never know what messages are out there for you.

In the words of my late dad – who was probably quoting someone else but anyways – “Where ever you are, be there.”

I’m trying Dad. Love you. Miss you.




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