The Reward is the Journey

And so, chemo is over.  My best friend's diary has been chocker...  Line cleans, blood tests, scans and 18 weekly doses of the gruelling treatment itself.  Summer seems at last to have arrived and with it, we hope, some time, peace and space. She is, we acknowledged over a rather yummy luncheon served to us beneath the beautiful canopy of creepers and climbers at Petersham Nurseries, an inspiration. A small group of us gathered to celebrate her forthcoming marriage.  The sun's rays joined the warmth we all have for this very special woman.  Warmth and, in my case at least, pride. It is the greatest privilege to call this woman my best friend.  She continues to epitomise my understanding of grace.  Our bodies are fragile things.  Our minds are frailer still.  In her composure and wisdom, she possesses an outlook I can only aspire to adopt.  From you, dear Charlotte, I learn and I learn and I learn.   The ...

Birthdays are important.  Mine included.  Tho' it falls precariously between Christmas and New Year in recent years I have thrown caution to the wind and marked this thing called the ageing process on or close to the day itself trusting that whomsoever should be there will be there. And so it was this year...  I celebrated my birthday amongst family and friends.  It was a lovely evening during which we shared good food, yummy cakes, and laughter.  Sitting around a large oval table were 18 very important people, each of whom has played a significant part in making the last year a special one. When seeking to gather a group for such a purpose, one must be wise to the fact that life happens and plans change:  I was not to know exactly how many people would be attending until the day, and that was fine.  There are things that merit worrying about.  This was never to be one of them.  For things, I have found, more often than not, work ...

It's gotten colder. Quite a bit colder, actually. I woke up to a fluttering of snow on Saturday. It was crisp and bright. Winter made her long awaited appearance. It was the most beautiful day to give my long winter coat (something of a favourite that rarely fails to attract remark amongst my generously complimentary friends) it's first outing of the season.  I was attending a Study Day in central London meaning that I didn't manage to really greet the elements until Sunday.  The pool beckoned mid morning, after the Club races had concluded, at which time I swam mostly toute seule. My swims follow something of a predictable routine: creature of habit that I am... I get changed quickly and sit on the edge at the deep end, legs dangling, gauging the temperature whilst I adjust my swimming caps (I have been wearing two since the end of September; silicone for now, to be replaced with neoprene shortly).  My toes alerted me to the fact that the te...

I felt like a winner. And the race hadn't even started. I had turned up. And so, I felt justified in claiming a victory. I have not swum competitively since childhood. My sister and I used to clear up at the South London Brownie Girl Guide Swimming Galas. It was all terribly serious.  This morning couldn't have been more different. The competition was not in the adjoining lanes but upstairs - in my own head. Doubt began to creep in the moment I managed (finally) to open the attachment efficiently emailed to me by the Club Captains earlier this week. There appeared my name - down to swim in Races 1, 8 and 11. Three times I met my greatest contender: the nagging doubt. It didn't stand a chance - submerged in 11° it soon dissipated. Biology took over, and I splashed my way across my first width doing an impression of the Butterfly.  I didn't feel like I managed to take flight but I did, somehow, make it across the pool.  The water level must have...

I felt a pang of guilt as I turned my back on her and left home today.  Off we went, me and my new love.  Three and a half years ago, I blogged about getting out and about on my trusty single speed. She has been a stalwart.  And yet, I came to the decision not so long ago, that it was time for a change.  She has not been replaced.  But today she was substituted.  It's good to mix it up...  Right? Someone once asked me whether I knew the answer to the all important question.  The question that plagues the mind of an enthusiast contemplating an expansion of the collection.  How many bikes does one need?  The answer is, of course, N+1. I am the proud owner of a(nother) pair of wheels that truly suit my commute.  I have joined the Fold.  I have become a Bromptonite. Bigger is not necessarily better.  My new wheels fill me with joy.  I cannot remember enjoying my journey to or from work as much on any...

How we work is, I am regularly reminded, a crucial component of the satisfaction we derive from our occupation.  Whilst it has been a while since I was office based, hot-desking is a reality for many that I am well familiar with. As is the heat it seems to generate...  The number of office environments that now feature some version of hot-desking is ever increasing, alongside escalating rental values for commercial property.   What I am struck by is the impact that is, perhaps, less well planned that the layout constellation of the office furniture.  Each week I hear tales which highlight to me the angst experienced by individuals for whom the desking arrangements have simply become too hot. In a world where we face a great many unknowns each and every hour, I wonder whether the additional stress caused by not knowing on arrival at your place of work where it is that you will be sitting is, at some level, counter productive for most office workers. ...

...(for me) is being out and about on two wheels.  In the sunshine. And today was that day.  It has been a while.  And all the while my bicycle has been standing there looking rather sorry for itself in the hallway.  Waiting. I have come up with every excuse in the book... Too cold.  Too wet.  Too far.  Too much to carry.  Too complicated. It's all too easy to overcomplicate things and if the last year has taught me anything, it's taught me that de-cluttering is a priority.  Only in this way can I remind myself what's most important to me.  And act accordingly. Getting that right, and feeling it to be so, is pure exhilaration.