A new year's hope

The last day of the year is a time for reflection, resolution and hope. As 2018 draws to an end, we begin to take stock of the past and look to the future and I, too, have been looking back at my year and considering my desires for 2019. While it's easy to become jaded, I think there's something special about taking a breath, getting some space and really taking time to think about the good, the bad and the ugly of the past year and then putting it behind you for a fresh new year. 

Reflection

2018 has gone by in the blink of an eye. For some of you it was a year of joy and for others, a year of hardship. Maybe your year, like mine, was a roller coaster of dizzying highs and crushing lows that had you holding on with white knuckles until it finally slowed down. 

While there were some huge moments that made up my 2018, I've been trying to remember how the smaller ones have shaped my year. Hanging out with friends in parks on a summer's day, discovering a pretty building in London I'd never seen before, laughing hysterically with my people from my Hub, recalling precious wisdom from a preach months later, that time I pushed through a run when I wanted to give up...

Life is coloured by the key events but it's the more insignificant ones that add the shading. It's easy to write off a year by remembering only the things that perhaps didn't go to plan, or rose-tint a year by remembering the things that did. No year is ever without it's bumps and no year is ever without it's delights, no matter how small those delights may be. It's by looking at the small, I get a clearer picture of the big. I see how I've grown, what I need to work on and what the things are that truly matter to me. 

This year I turned 30, I saw Taylor Swift in concert, I travelled to the USA, I attended a number of weddings, I ran a 10k, I started a new job, and I developed some deep, meaningful friendships. And that is to name but a few things! In some ways it's a been hard - a very hard - year, but when I look back, I know I've been blessed. 

Resolution

By now, almost everyone will have a New Year’s Resolution in mind. Even if you don’t believe in officially setting them (let’s face it, you’ll break them by 5^th January anyway), you might still have some things you want to achieve in 2019. Lose weight, eat more healthily, exercise more, learn a new language, go travelling, quit smoking – the list goes on. All ways we can improve ourselves; ways to become a better us. Because that’s what it’s about, really, this idea that we are not quite enough as ourselves. That on 1^st January you are chubby and lazy and unaccomplished but by next 31^st December – with enough willpower – you might (might) be a toned, wealthy, super traveller who’s fluent in Mandarin. Inevitably, this will not happen. Oh, but maybe next year – and the cycle continues.

There isn’t anything inherently wrong with wanting to improve yourself or using the new year to resolve do so. Quite the contrary, I believe we should always be moving forward and reaching for new goals. But often this resolution comes with a sense of dissatisfaction about ourselves. That just dropping that bit of weight, or by becoming more organised or by running that marathon – then, then we will be worth something. Then we can be proud of ourselves. But why can’t we be proud of ourselves as we are? Yes, maybe you didn’t achieve all you hoped for in 2018, but that doesn’t mean you are a failure.

Instead of thinking about the things you haven’t done, think about what you have. Maybe you’ve weathered a lot and have come out of it stronger. Or you volunteered every week. Or you deepened some friendships. Those aren’t insignificant things! Ok, maybe you’re not as fit as you like, or as well-read as you want to be. Improve that – but only if you want to. Don’t feel like you must be something more, don’t feel like you have to try to fit into a certain mould because you’ll be a ‘better’ you. You’re honestly enough as you are.

Let’s be kinder to ourselves this coming year.

Hope

Call it the naive Disney-fed optimist in me, but I can’t help springing into the New Year with anticipation. Perhaps it’s because of the aforementioned resolutions, but it also feels like a clean slate. That a fresh year brings fresh possibilities. That maybe this year will be exciting and adventurous, a year of blissful delights and dreams come true. Of course, life rarely turns out the way I want it to, and a year will always surprise me in one way or the other, for better or worse. Yet come December my mind will reset again to that of hopeful expectation. 

Christmas is the perfect time to restore the optimism I lost during the year. The Christmas story is about hope for the world, and it's something I'm trying to think about as I enter the next year. There's a couple of lines in the Christmas carol 'O Holy Night' which talk about this: 'a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn'. Often this world can feel weary. Politics are precarious, society fractured and the environment crumbling, and everything feels a bit fragile. Yet despite all that, there is still a hope for the world. As 2019 comes leaping in, we can cling to that hope and perhaps see new and glorious things happen this coming year. 

2018 may have been the best year, or the worst, but let's shake it off and look towards the new year with renewed hope in our hearts. 

Contentment in an age of discontent

Only a month ago the sun was out, the evenings were long and nature was in full bloom. Summer brought easy, relaxed living and a busy social schedule. Life can feel carefree and happy, and a little lazy, in the summer. But now autumn is here, the leaves are turning, the days are getting colder, and the smell of change is in the air. It's probably because I equate it with going back to school or uni, but there's something about autumn that makes me think that it's a fresh start. A shake-up, a drive to pursue my ambitions. A second New Year, if you will.

But with this desire for change comes a feeling of restlessness with how my life currently looks. It's not that I don't feel happy but sometimes - actually, rather often - I don't feel content. I took to the most valid, unbiased and trustworthy source in the world, the internet, to discover the difference between happiness and contentment. The internet tells me that happiness is transient, a fleeting high that can change with circumstances whereas contentment is a state of being. It's a mindset, an attitude that comes from knowing what you have, and being grateful and satisfied with that. It's one that I often struggle to have, especially when I look at all my dreams left unfulfilled and all the things I strive for only to get knocked back again.

'I'll be content once I move to London,' I thought once upon a time, when I was living in Gloucester and dissatisfied with my life. 'London is where I long to be. Yes, once I'm in London life will be fantastic and that's it - I will have reached peak contentment.'

Ha.

Naive, right? I thought this city was all I'd ever want and need and that I'd never want to be anywhere else. I love my life in London, truly I do, but it's real life and while often it is exciting and wonderful, it can be boring and frustrating. And occasionally I feel that old restlessness, that familiar yearning to shake my life up and do something different. Sometimes it's to quit life for 6 months and go and explore the world and sometimes it's as simple as cutting my hair. I just feel the need to do...something. I feel the need for my life to be different to how it currently is. And that, I believe, can sometimes be dangerous.

In this world we are fed on a contestant diet of 'more'. Earn more, achieve more, experience more, want more. Buy that new iPhone, go on that holiday, get in that relationship, just have a bit more stuff. Then you'll be happy. So you buy and buy and buy, and get and do and achieve, and yet somehow there is always something else. You're happy with that phone, until the new model comes out, and you really like that dress until it's out of fashion. That adventure was great but now you need the next one, and your relationship has lost its rose-coloured glow and you're bored. And so the cycle of 'more' continues and we are never satisfied.

So what does a life of being content really look like? And how do I make it happen? I don't have the answers yet, but I do have a few thoughts. Fasten your seat belts kids, it's going to be a bumpy and slightly confusing ride.

Contentment and ambition

As I ponder this question of how to live a life of contentment, I consider how my goals and dreams coincide with that. I am overflowing with dreams. Some I talk about openly and some to only a select few. Some lie dormant, bound by time or circumstances, and some have been pushed down by life's journey. A few are held in secret, a fragile little flame between only me and God. I occasionally wonder if having so many dreams means that I live my life in the future and lose sight of the present. That I might miss the beauty in the right now because I'm constantly thinking of what might be. And then when one dream is realised, I'll be thinking about the next thing instead of just enjoying what I've got.

Can you pursue and long for things, and still be content? The more I think about it, the more I think yes. It's good to have ambitions and goals. We are made to create, to love, to play, to bring our own unique flavour to the world. We should pursue them but at the same time, be mindful of what we currently have. Contentment isn't about not wanting things, it's about enjoying what you do have in the meantime.

Contentment and settling

Unfortunately, things don't just fall from the sky into your lap, you have to actively work for them. I want to keep up momentum, not get stuck in a comfort zone where I'm 'being content' but really I'm stuck in a rut or, worse, too afraid to go for what I want. It's easy to do, I think. It's easy to say that you're content with your life when really you have just settled. Knowing the difference between settling and being content can be tricky. I think it comes to down to whether you feel your life has meaning and hope even in the occasional monotony, or if life is just passing you by. Have you let your dreams die? Have you stopped even hoping because it doesn't look like it's ever going to happen? Then you've settled.

Be satisfied with your life but if there's something you really want - keep going for it. Don't let fear stop you. Don't ever settle for a mediocre, hum-drum life that's just ok when you could have a great one. You are worth so much more than that. You are good enough for the dreams that you hold most dear.

Contentment and faith

I was challenged by a preach I heard at the very start of the year. I can't remember the exact quote but to (very loosely) paraphrase, it was something along the lines of 'what if everything you were hoping for this year didn't happen. Would you still be content? Could you still praise God anyway?' That has been hugely challenging for me and something that I have thought about frequently throughout 2018 because for a lot of the year I'm not sure in all honesty I could say yes. It's still something I'm working on even now. So much of my contentment is in not necessarily in the things I have or lack materially but in the things that lie beyond my control. And it's sometimes hard to trust that God has these things in hand. I know He does, deep down, but when things aren't happening and your expectations are unmet and dreams unrealised it can be so difficult to stay content while keeping faith.

The Bible mentions the word 'content' a number of times. The most famous of which comes from Philippians 4:11 (ESV) - 'I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.' So it seems that contentment is a learned behaviour, rather than something that should come naturally. If contentment can be learned, then surely it's a process that can be mastered. Yet I think, for me, it won't just come by simply trying, but also by praying, worshiping and remembering what I've been given. Contentment comes when I sit back, take stock of my life and choose to see all the things I do have rather than all the things I don't.

This road to contentment is a journey I'm still on. It will probably be one I'm on for a while. Sometimes I may be able to say with utter confidence, 'yes, I'm content' and other times I may have a bit of a wobble. I may not have fully learned to be content, but I'm in the process. And that's something, I guess.

Let's talk about T-Rex, baby

Dinosaurs! Yes, the American Museum of Natural History has many other delights but let's face it, most visitors are there for one thing only - the huge dinosaurs. And huge they are. A cast of the 122 feet Titanosaur (honestly, it sounds like they are getting children to make up these names now), the biggest dinosaur ever found, is so large that its head and neck don't fit in its hall. It could have flattened me with a stamp of one foot, or sent me flying 50 metres with a flick of its tail. You know, if it was alive. Actually, I think even the re-animated skeleton would probably kill me.

Let's go back to the beginning. The American Museum of Natural History, on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, is one of the largest in the world. It is arranged into 'halls' - the hall of African mammals, the hall of fossils, the hall of human origins etc. It even has a space centre which features a planetarium.

Repeating the pattern from our visit to the Met, my friend and I split up to tackle the museum and I headed straight to the third floor to see the dinosaurs. I wasn't one of those dinosaur kids. I watched Jurassic Park and The Land Before Time and all that but I never really cared to find out the proper names or learn the history. Even now I describe dinosaurs like, "the one with the long neck," or "the one with the spikes on its back," or "the one with the tiny hands". I'd like to say I learned a lot more about dinosaurs in this museum trip and I am now full of interesting dinosaur facts. I did learn a lot but it unfortunately all left my head as soon as I stepped out of the museum doors. What can I say, I'm just not meant to be a dino girl.

The David H. Koch Dinosaur Wing consists of two huge halls and a whole lot of, you guessed it, dinosaur fossils. According to their website, 85% of the models you see are the real fossils, rather than casts and the halls are separated into Saurischian and Ornithischian specimans. I'm going to pretend I remember the difference between them or, indeed, what they even are. But even for clueless me, the halls are fantastic. The fossils and casts are large, numerous and impressive and though the halls were crowded, I didn't feel squashed or rushed. There was plenty to look at and while the exhibits were informative, they were not overwhelming.

After the dinosaurs it was time for a show. Our ticket allowed us into either the Hayden Planetarium show or a 3D Amazon movie and we chose the planetarium because space is cool. We were led into a circular room with reclined seats and settled ourselves down as Neil deGrasse Tyson explained the mysteries of dark matter. It was a good show, very interesting and visually pretty but I did find myself closing my eyes and beginning to drift off to Neil's dulcet tones. What can I say, it had been a very busy few days and I had a cold.

We split up again and I tried to power-walk my way through as much as the museum as I could before it closed. I spent a good amount of time in the halls of mammals, which were quite cool but it turns out there are so many stuffed animals you can see before you get bored of them. There was a very interesting exhibit about Native American culture and origins, which led onto South Pacific peoples and eventually an Easter Island head which I (shamefully) remembered was also in the Night at the Museum movie.

Because time was running out, I didn't get to see the Hall of Human Origins or many of the other space things which is a bit of a shame. Like almost everything in NYC, the museum is massive and there is so much to see - too much for one afternoon. Did I like the museum? Very much. Was it my favourite museum in New York? No, that currently still belongs to the Met. Do I prefer it to the London Natural History Museum? Well, given that I haven't been to the London one in years, it is yet to be decided. But the NYC one might inch ahead if I'm honest. If only because of the dinosaurs.

Happy to have Met you

New York City is famous for many things. Broadway, Central Park, The Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, Macy's...the list goes on. One thing it boasts is a plethora of excellent museums. I was on holiday in NYC recently and, being a bit of a history nerd, was excited to check out a few of its world-famous museums. Luckily my travel buddy Rowena was on exactly the same page.

I'd been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art (the 'Met' if you want to be casual) once before, ten years ago, and only for about an hour before it closed so I was looking forward to spending a whole afternoon there. Because we took our museum trip seriously - as one should - Rowena and I decided to go our separate ways and spend our time at the Met exploring solo. Armed with a map, a backpack and an intrepid spirit of cultural exploration, I knew at once where I wanted to head first - the Impressionists.

The Met is huge. Massive. If you have ever tried navigating to a particular era in the National Gallery, but actually ended up finding yourself in a room of fat cherub paintings when you really wanted Picasso, then think of that. But on steroids. There was a map. I followed the map. It didn't help much. That being said, there is something freeing about getting lost and discovering new and intriguing art that you might not have bothered about otherwise.

One of the first exhibitions I came across on my way to my chosen destination was one based on the theme of this year's Met Gala. Every year the Met hosts a famous ball which is presided over by the icon and titan that is Anna Wintour and attended by the most famous celebrities dressed in bizarre outfits. There is always a slightly pretentious theme and, for designers and celebrities alike, it is a chance to stretch the imagination and come up with something really creative and outlandish. This year's theme was entitled 'Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination.' Quite. On display were outfits that have been inspired or influenced by Catholicism in some way. Clothes from fashion houses such as Dolce and Gabbana, Versace and Alexander McQueen, to name a few, were featured and ranged from the beautiful to the odd. Accompanying the designs were items from the Vatican. The exhibition was held in the cloisters, aptly making it feel like we were in a Catholic church. To add to the overall effect, it opened out into a large room dressed a bit like a cathedral with 16th century choral music playing over loudspeakers. It was overkill but also somehow that made it even more excellent.

After visiting a number of other art eras I hadn't intended on seeing, but ended up mostly enjoying anyway, I finally made it to the Manets and the Degas. It may be a bit cliche but the Impressionists are some of my favourite artists. The Met hosts an impressive array, with some of the more well-known Monets on display, such as the Water Lilly Pond, and a whole room of Degas ballerinas. The Met also is home to many other non-Impressionist paintings like Van Gogh's self portrait and The Denial of Saint Peter by Caravaggio. To tell you all the paintings I saw would take all day. And frankly, I don't remember them all. But I did end up discovering some artists that I'd never seen before and really liked, like Pierre Auguste Cot.

The Met doesn't just include paintings but also sculptures, furniture, costumes, Egyptian mummies and even a temple. I didn't make it around everything I wanted to see - museums are surprisingly tiring - but I felt like I got to see the majority of its delights. I now consider the Met one of my favourite museums ever and one of my highlights of NYC.

Facebore, Instaglam and that old chestnut comparison

I blame Bebo. It was the gateway drug. A place where you could talk to your friends, tell the world about yourself and upload low-quality photos all in one place? 17 year old me approved. It spiralled from there. Though I wasn't quite cool enough for Myspace, I made an account anyway, emo fringe and raccoon eyed profile picture unfortunately not included. And then came along this little site called Facebook and poor Bebo, once so beloved, was cast aside like the 2005 relic it has become. Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat - I got them all and slowly, before I knew it was really happening, I became addicted.

People always talk about social media addiction with a wry smile and an exasperated eye roll. It's a socially accepted 'addiction', like chocolate and caffeine, not a real addiction that will control you and mess up your life. I know I wasn't addicted in the true, dictionary-definition of the word, but when I found myself scrolling mindlessly through my Facebook feed and opening Instagram multiple times a day for no real reason, I knew that I was deep down that rabbit hole.

Somewhere down the line social media has changed - globally - from a place to connect with your friends to a platform on which the world views you. Instagram models, bloggers, fitness coaches, 'influencers' and the like now use social media as a job, making millions of dollars off advertising to their millions of followers. Everyone is so careful to curate an acceptable image of themselves. We all know that social media is just a front, a filtered snapshot of a fabulous life, hiding the real, mundane day-to-day behind. But it's so very easy to forget that as we scroll, scroll, scroll through our news feeds, perfect people with perfect lives pouting out at us through our tiny phone screens.

I have a complicated relationship with social media. In some ways it is a joy to me. It allows me instant communication with people I don't get to see often in real life. It lets me feel like I'm getting to watch my niece and nephew grow up through pictures and videos. I get to see my friends flourish, I get to celebrate with them as they get engaged, get job promotions, have babies and generally live awesome lives. I get to keep my life documented in photos, so I can look back and remember the wonderful times I've had. I like to communicate and social media is a fantastic way of doing this.

And yet...

And yet. And yet. And yet.

Without meaning to, the little liar called comparison often creeps up beside me and infiltrates my thoughts, filling my mind with negative whispers about myself and my worth.

Wow, that person's art/baking/writing/photography is so great! They are far more talented than you'll ever be. Why do you even bother trying to be creative, you untalented hack. 

She looks stunning in this picture, she's so very beautiful. Far more beautiful than you'll ever be. Why do you even bother posting photos of yourself, you hideous swamp monster.

Oh, they seem to be having the best time on holiday! Your life is boring. Why aren't you paddle boarding in Fiji, rather than sitting in bed with your laptop. You've wasted your life. 

Maybe you can relate. Maybe for you it's those blogger mums with the perfect house and kids, while your little darling hasn't given you more than two hours of sleep in a row and you haven't showered in three days. Maybe it's that acquaintance with the really great job who's constantly travelling to exciting places while the most fun you've had in your job recently was that time Karen from accounting brought in Krispy Kreme doughnuts. And you begin to wonder why your life isn't like that. Or why you're not as good as that person. Why they have it all together and you don't. It's all lies of course. Vicious, vicious lies. Not only the fact that their lives aren't perfect, but the fact that just because someone is good at something, means that you're worthless in comparison.

Someone else being successful doesn't mean you're a failure.
Someone else being beautiful doesn't mean you're ugly.
Someone else having fun doesn't mean you're boring.

I'm so tired of it (I'm posting about being somewhat tired of social media while posting this on social media. I'm aware of the irony). I'm tired of the pressure to look good, to have it all together but I'm also tired of the impulse social media brings to compare my life and myself with others, rather than  appreciating my own journey.

I fasted social media for a few weeks a while ago and while I definitely missed it in some ways, in other ways I felt so free. I felt mentally better about myself and my life and I had so much more time for doing things I liked (reading! writing! baking!), rather than just wasting time on my phone. This isn't some grand proclamation about how my fast made me want to leave social media forever. Far from it. I went back to that well. I'll continue go back there, though I know sometimes I'll need to sit back and take some time out. But I'm going to make a concentrated effort for social media to become something else. I want it to be that place where I get inspired by people excelling in their own way. I want it to be a place of comfort - where I can keep up to date with my awesome friends and how fantastically they are doing - rather than a place where I feel inadequate.

So if you, like me, struggle occasionally (or hey, maybe frequently), why not make the decision to join me with this. Let's use social media as a place not to push our opinions down others throats, judge or try to impress, but to share our lives and share in our friends lives. Let's celebrate each other, our joys and successes and dreams, without tearing each other or ourselves down.

On the eve of turning 30

Somebody somewhere once decided that 30 is the age you officially get old. The fun, carefree 20s are over and now it's time to be a Real Grown Up. I'm never sure what exactly that entails, but I imagine it's something like pension plans, sensible shoes and trips to Ikea on a Saturday.

The world tells me that turning 30 is a big deal. So big, it seems, that there are think pieces in Huffington Post and Vox on learned life lessons, things you should no longer do and, in an attempt at a positive spin, why life actually begins at 30 (as if I've been stuck in limbo this whole time).

According to society, there are a number of things I should have achieved by now. These include having a high-flying career, owning a house, getting married, having children, publishing a book/creating an app/starting a business/winning a prestigious prize and traveling Asia with nothing but a backpack and my joie de vivre.

I have done none of these things.

And, much to my dismay, I've found myself buying these lies the past six months. Hook, line and shameful sinker. Instead of focusing on the wonderful life I've lived and the adventures I have had, I've been caught up in all that I haven't done. Should I have dyed my hair pink and got a tattoo at Glastonbury? Should I have studied a Masters? Why oh why haven't I lived in a yurt in the Gobi Desert? Then there's the flip side of turning 30, the idea that I'm suddenly meant to be wise, calm and have my life figured out. Part of me feels like I'm still a kid. Like one day someone will find out that I'm just pretending and that I actually have no idea what I'm doing.

I know in reality nothing will change. That I'll wake up tomorrow and look the same and feel the same and act the same. And I know how blessed I am to have got to 30 with such a full life lived. Not everyone gets that privilege. So rather than reflect on my past and lament any regrets I might have, I'm going to focus on the future. On the things I want to learn and the things I have yet to achieve. Below I've listed just a few things that I want to do as I head into my next decade.

Live bravely

I'll let you into a little secret. I'm pretty damn scared of failing. No matter how many times it happens, it sucks every time and doesn't really get easier. But I don't want the fear of failure to keep me from attempting my life goals. I want to dream recklessly and go for what I want, regardless of whether I succeed. I'll try, I'll fail, I'll get rejected and I will get back up and keep on trying. And, hey, one day I'll get there.

Care less/ care more

Care less about the things that don't matter. Social media, appearances, material possessions, what people think about me. And care more about the things that do - kindness, being a good friend, being more selfless, showing love, combating injustice.

Be perpetually curious

The world is a place of wonder and colour and possibility. There's so much to see and do it's a bit overwhelming. I don't want to stay in a comfortable little bubble, I want to push the envelope. I want to learn and explore and travel and immerse myself in creativity. I want to burn as bright as possible (bright - geddit? Haha...oh).

Stay in my lane

My life's journey is not going to look exactly like someone else's and that's ok. So what if I have not done everything I thought I might have by this age? There's still time. I don't want to spend my life preoccupied on whether I'm...enough. Clever enough, pretty enough, fun enough, ambitious enough. God tells me I am, even if the world might not, and I aim to live in that truth.

So thanks 20s, you were pretty great. You bought me travel, education, jobs, friends, family and a greater sense of self. And here's to you 30s, I have a feeling you might be even better.