New Seasons and managing change

Posted on by nyamazela

(Referring to the perfect little ‘handbag’ dogs in Boca Raton, Florida) “They were petite, sophisticated and of discriminating taste. Marley was big, clunky and a sniffer of genitalia.”

“Marley had earned his place in our family. Like a quirky but beloved uncle, he was what he was. He would never be Lassie or Benji or Old Yeller. We accepted him for the dog he was, and loved him all the more for it. “You old geezer,” I said to him on the side of the road that late-winter day, scrubbing his neck. Our goal, the cemetery, was still a steep climb ahead. But just as in life, I was figuring out, the destination was less important than the journey.”

Marley and Me by John Grogan

Autumn leaves changingThis book, Marley and Me (and the film,) snuck up on me from behind, and got to me when my guard was down. The film is light hearted, ‘feel good’ and predictable, but when I watched some years ago and again recently, I fell for every line – both my heart and my tear ducts annoyingly reacted exactly on cue.

So why did I read the book this last week as well? Continue reading New Seasons and managing change

Conflict and the art of burying your head in the sand … and missing out on life

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“People were buying milk, or filling their cars with petrol, or even posting letters. And what no one else knew was the appalling weight of the thing they were carrying inside. The superhuman effort it took sometimes to be normal, and a part of things that appeared both easy and everyday. The loneliness of that.”

——————–

“Harold could no longer pass a stranger without acknowledging the truth that everyone was the same, and also unique; and that this was the dilemma of being human.”

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce

The potpourri huntDo you love or hate conflict?

Dr Carol Dweck’s ‘Mindset’ suggests that conflict is essential for growth.

All my life I’ve avoided conflict. I grew up in a happy family where conflict was avoided as a rule. In fact, from my father’s perspective any disagreement was personal and would turn into a fight where the opposing opinion was preferably quashed. For the most part this was fine because we really did have a somewhat idyllic, happy family life and carefree upbringing. Continue reading Conflict and the art of burying your head in the sand … and missing out on life

Hopes, dreams, prayers and the people you meet on the way

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“How many of us begin a new record with each day of our lives? To me it seems only yesterday that my whole life ended with my new hope, and that truly I began a new record. So it shall be until the Great Recorder sums me up and closes my ledger account with a balance to profit and loss.”

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Hopes and dreamsI have had many hopes and dreams in my short life, some of which have weighed heavily on me and have haunted me – hopes I’ve shelved, hopes I’ve not dared to voice, hopes I’ve boldly proclaimed – hopes upon hopes.

Hopes are flighty things, like butterflies, they are beautiful and colourful and hard to pin down. Sometimes they flit into our lives in surprising ways and then flit right out again. Sometimes we keep getting a glance at them, that ‘butterfly’ feeling rises up inside, and then it passes out of reach so that we wonder if it was even there at all.

Continue reading Hopes, dreams, prayers and the people you meet on the way

Reading, writing, watching

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“Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.”

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

People watching with a latte croissant and marmiteOn 25th August I wrote about working freelance from home. I confessed that sometimes I need to ‘run’ to a coffee shop to work where there are no distractions… I’m sitting at my local right now enjoying a latte and a croissant. A coffee shop is the rare occasion where I choose coffee over tea.

I love my local cafe. It’s just 4 blocks from my flat, run by a motley group of Middle Eastern ladies with friendly smiles and free wifi. Continue reading Reading, writing, watching

1st September

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“Cords of saliva would collect on her lips; she would draw them in, then open her mouth again. Her mouth seemed to have a private existence of its own. It worked separate and apart from the rest of her, out and in, like a clam hole at low tide. Occasionally it would say, “Pt,” like some viscous substance coming to a boil.”

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

new seasonTuesday’s 1st September inspiration: a beautiful description from a novel which blew me away with its beauty at the time of reading it as a teenager, and still does. Some of my readers will know that part of the reason I write a weekly blog (occasionally more frequently) is because I want to live my life with purpose, on purpose, reflecting on life’s ups and downs and to be accountable. A little Birdie, my Hubby, my writer sister and my faith inspired me to start.

The other reason is because they say that if you want to call yourself a writer you need to write every day. Nyamazela.com accounts for 1 or 2 days a week. Continue reading 1st September

Kisses: a cautionary tale

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“It had taken me some months to get used to the Provencal delight in physical contact. Like anyone brought up in England, I had absorbed certain social mannerisms. I had learned to keep my distance, to offer a nod instead of a handshake, to ration kissing to female relatives and to confine any public demonstrations of affection to dogs. To be engulfed by a Provençal welcome, as thorough and searching as being frisked by airport security guards, was, at first, a startling experience.”

A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle

kissing protocolYesterday I had a bit of a kissing dilemma. In fact, it may have actually been a faux pas. I had lunch with my mum-in-law and a perfect stranger. The stranger knew about me and I about her, but we had never actually met. The stranger also came with a host of cautionary bumph. Nervousness ensued, but it was a meeting well overdue, necessary and unavoidable. Continue reading Kisses: a cautionary tale

Working freelance from home

Posted on by nyamazela

“A little note about grammar. I know it and I love it, but I haven’t always followed it in this book. I start sentences with ands and buts. I end sentences with prepositions. I use the plural they in contexts that require the singular he or she. I’ve done this for informality and immediacy, and I hope the sticklers will forgive me.”

Mindset: How you can fulfil your potential by Dr Carol S Dweck

Freelance work from homeStill wondering at and unpacking the massive, life-changing concept of Dweck’s Mindset, I’ve decided to tackle one of my serious weaknesses – procrastination and busyness.

The ‘growth mindset’ approach says that:
1. I don’t have to stay the way I am (which in fact echoes beautifully with my theology as well).
2. I can improve, through hard work and practise, in an area that I value.
3. I have no idea what my potential (ceiling) really is. Continue reading Working freelance from home

Memory

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“We have all some experience of a feeling, that comes over us occasionally, of what we are saying and doing having been said and done before, in a remote time – of our having been surrounded, dim ages ago, by the same faces, objects, and circumstances – of our knowing perfectly what will be said next, as if we suddenly remember it!”

David Copperfield by Charles Dickens

Aiming to improve our memoriesThe mind is a strange and curious thing.

On Friday last, I stepped out of the office on an errand.  Low-lying mist hung over the Thames. London was still. This is a rare and beautiful thing. Putney Bridge was deserted – no hooting or sirens or loud pedestrians. The frenzy and heat of July having past, a large portion of the population on leave, August is an eerie month in the city. London seemed to breathe out a long peaceful breath of relief.

Being bookish, and tending towards melancholy, this mysterious, still, slightly dark, ominous, promise-of-rain weather feeds my imagination. Continue reading Memory

Foodie

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“We might treat a rabbit as a pet or become emotionally attached to a goose, but we had come from cities and supermarkets, where flesh was hygienically distanced from any resemblance to living creatures. A shrink-wrapped pork chop has a sanitised, abstract appearance that has nothing whatsoever to do with the warm, mucky bulk of a pig. Out here in the country there is no avoiding the direct link between death and dinner…” 

A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle

I am a ‘wannabe’ foodie, but unsurprisingly making little effort to get the esteemed status. There, I’ve said it. Living in a city where you can go out for three meals a day for the rest of your life and never exhaust the options, some will consider my opening admission simply disgraceful. I’m sorry 😦

Continue reading Foodie

Days Out: The Wandle Trail

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“An errant May-fly swerved unsteadily athwart the current in the intoxicated fashion affected by young bloods of May-flies seeing life. A swirl of water and a ‘loop!’ and the May-fly was visible no more. Neither was the Otter.”

The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame

The Wandle TrailWe all make a lot of jokes and snide comments about summer in the UK, but really, it is a special time. All the people, animals and berries come out of hibernation and put on an elaborate show of flesh, fitness and fruitfulness.

It’s also a season of inspired weekend ideas.

This weekend hubby and I cycled the Wandle Trail. We donned our white legs in shorts, pumped up bicycle tyres and oiled chains (in point of fact, hubby actually did the oily dirty work – MWAH!). Continue reading Days Out: The Wandle Trail