I keep seeing the numbers 1111 everywhere, on receipts, digital clocks, everywhere I look. It happened again a few minutes ago.
I’ve been told it’s a symbol of spiritual awakening or that a meeting with my twin soul is imminent. I hope so. I could do with some sunshine to lift the rain clouds right now.
How do you abandon a life you know well? I feel the need for a change. Things aren’t good. I won’t say any more than that, but a new start is on the horizon, for sure. Life is too short for half baked compromises. I need to work out the details. Changes are good for the soul and sometimes they’re necessary for our wellbeing.
One of the interesting things about some people is that they only see their version, their world. No matter how many times you try to get them to listen, to see your point of view, to understand, they carry on doing what they’ve always done.
I will keep smiling and doing what I have to do to make the transition as safe and smooth as possible. I will do all the text book stuff - go for walks, listen to music, pamper and preen, and surround myself with positive people.
When we move away from a place of pain we find doors opening that we never knew were there. I look forward to those doors opening. There’s no better way to start over than by leaving it all behind - permanently and completely. In a little while I will stand back and know that I did the right thing.
No one can deny the power of the written word when it comes to undying love. If you’re happy for your words of adoration to be used by thousands of other romantics around the globe, write the object of your passion a letter of adoration, be accosted by the love bug, and share your passion with the world here. If you haven’t already guessed, I’m feeling romantic today.
Today I spent the afternoon walking around a nearby park in the sunshine. There was a gentle breeze and the air was fresh. There was nobody about, so I walked and walked, and thought about stuff, like holidays (the lack of them).
I came to the conclusion that I need a holiday; a foreign holiday, and a long one at that. I was thinking the last time I had a proper break, that didn’t involve work, was Toronto in 2004. I’ve flitted about other places since, but not a decent holiday that involved relaxation, good food, lots of outdoorsy stuff, sunshine and addictive company. My next jaunt will be worth it, no doubt about that. I’m on the case.
Oh, and today I received an email from a couple that write love letters to each other every day. Isn’t that amazing? I’m in serious need of a love letter and a holiday. Excuse me while I go and weep into a glass of wine.
Video Jug looks and feels like the new You Tube. It has hundreds of videos and films explaining how to do everything you can think of, from making a film to baking California Rolls, reducing cellulite to finding your soulmate. A how to website with a twist, Video Jug is life explained on film. Click here to jump on the bandwagon.
When I was 21 and recovering from postnatal psychosis, I went back to work part-time as a secretary for an estate agent. One of the partners took a shine to me and the feeling was mutual - to begin with. There was a lot of flirting until one day he offered me a lift home. Our kiss was brief and unfamiliar. “Will you go out with me?” he smiled. “Yes,” I beamed.
So we went on a couple of dates, but I was still semi-away with the fairies, and his clinginess was more than I could handle. I agreed to go to his parent’s pub to meet them. I saw no harm in that, but his constant phoning and turning up unannounced at my house was wreaking havoc with my recovery. “Let’s take things slowly,” I suggested, “There’s no rush.”
“Okay,” he agreed, “Do you still want to meet my folks?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” I said cheerily, “I’m looking forward to it.” My mixed messages must have been alarming.
So we drove through open countryside (in the dark) towards his parent’s pub. Huge mistake! We were about three miles out of the city, when I relapsed - big time. I began hyperventilating, getting really scary thoughts that he was going to murder me, chop me up and fling my body parts out of the window. I was afraid to say anything in case I ‘planted the seed in his head to do just that’. Instead, I pressed my fist into my mouth to shut myself up, my heart pounding.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning at my panicked face. I was breathing really fast, sweating and light headed, rocking back and forth, and holding my knees to my chest. We were approaching a small town and I was relieved to see lights in the distance. As we got closer, there were shop doorways and a few people milling about. “Thank God for that,” I mumbled, relaxing a little.
“Stop the car,” I said. “I need air.” When he turned off the ignition, I opened the door and ran, like a lunatic down the street, desperate to get away.
I called mum from a phone box. “Help me!” I screamed. “He’s going to kill me!”
“Who’s going to kill you?”
“My estate agent friend,” I hissed.
I turned around and jumped. He’d caught up with me and was peering through the phone box window, out of breath and confused. He tried to coax me out but I refused to budge, so he sat in his car and waited while I did … God knows what, counted sheep probably, or twiddled my thumbs, or fantasised about eloping with my doctor. We’re talking 13 years ago so I can’t remember every detail, but suffice to say, I wasn’t right in the head.
Not surprisingly, I returned to hospital that night. I didn’t care. I was glad to be alive. They doped me up with pills and, as far as I was concerned, that was the end of my fling with the estate agent man.
But he wouldn’t let it drop. He visited every day, wearing the most bizarre clothes (like a pin stripe suit and straw hat or football shirt and suit jacket and sandals). I began to wonder whether they’d locked up the wrong person.
“Will you be my girlfriend when you get out?” he kept asking, and I told him I didn’t want to think that far ahead. “I’ll be as patient as you need me to be,” he said, “we can take things slowly.”
When I was ‘released’ we dated for a while. God knows why. We had nothing in common, and I didn’t fancy him. I kind of felt sorry because he had no friends. He was supportive and encouraging, a genuinely nice guy. But we weren’t right for each other.
“As long as we’re together,” he said, undeterred, and I nodded. I was so poorly; I’d have agreed to marry him right there and then and been none the wiser. Living in each other’s pockets would have been okay if there was chemistry (we could shag all day to pass the time) but I fancied him about as much as a smartie dipped in arsenic. I’m not sure how he felt about me, but as he made no sexual advances, I can only assume he was in it for the companionship too.
So our brief ‘relationship’ consisted of a couple of picnics, a date to the cinema, a mad drive through the countryside, the odd snog, and a few afternoons in bed, sitting side by side in matching tee-shirts, reading to each other. It was a bizarre experience, but hey, life would be dull without the odd battle scar, and bizarre experiences make up the grand tapestry of life.
Look for types you’ve not considered before. Chances are you’ll find someone who stirs you in a way beyond words. Most people are attracted to the same sort - consciously or unconsciously they repeat the same mistakes. After a period of exciting tension, everything is over and they’re left nursing their wounds.
Nothing is more seductive than a sense of destiny. Look for someone with shared interests, shared goals, a smile that makes your heart flutter, and a knowingness in their eyes. Don’t be afraid to take a chance on someone who is not your usual cup of tea.
Beautiful paintings may be full of charm but what keeps the eye from roving is a depth beyond the painting. A magic so bewitching and unforgettable and complex that the external gloss pales into insignificance. Dare to be different yourself too.
When you meet someone special - focus on being interested not interesting. The second bit should come naturally, but showing an interest in others will make you stand out because most people find it a difficult skill to master. They don’t have the discipline, patience or desire to make listening a priority.
Stop. Breathe. Smile. Have fun. Ask questions. Listen attentively. Don’t take yourself too seriously. Unless someone asks, they’re not interested in the size of your wallet or the year you spent travelling around Asia. They want to feel attractive. So shine a light on them, and if they return the favour by doing the same, you’ll strike up a natural rapport.
Not sure what to ask? Figure out what topics excite them and take it from there. You’ll know instantly when something floats their boat because it will show in their eyes and their mannerisms.
