The next chapter

I wasn't going to write a New Year's/end of the 2010s post. I'd decided that it would be cliché and my words would be trite. And then I decided to write it anyway.

So here it is, my last blog post of not only the year, but the decade. I can't guarantee genuine words of wisdom, but I can certainly guarantee my attempts at it.

My experience of the last decade can be summed up by the below:

I'm happy!
I'm sad!
I'm fine.
I'm happy!
I'm sad!
You know what? I'm growing. I understand life will have its ups and downs but through it all, I know I'm going to be ok.

Or maybe it was like:

Life is FUN
Life is BORING
LIFE IS NOT FUN
Life is VERY AVERAGE
Life is PRETTY GREAT

And repeat.


A decade of monumental moments

The 2010s were standout for all the big, landmark events of my life. I graduated university, I lived in 3 different cities, had a number of jobs (some better than others), I traveled Europe and North America, attended numerous weddings, was a bridesmaid and welcomed 2 nieces and a nephew. There have been some really hard moments too, and it's all of those, the rapturous and the torturous that have shaped me as a person.


A decade of friendships

I have made some dear, dear friends in the 2010s (and then, of course, there are the friends I already knew). Some I've only made within the past few years, some I've lost contact with, some live thousands of miles away and some live a 5 minute walk from me and yet I know I wouldn't be the person I am today without them. I can't name everyone, but if you consider us have ever been friends - even if we haven't seen each other in years - please know that I treasure you and what you have brought to my life.

A decade of learning 

The growth you go through from your early 20s to early 30s is kind of staggering. I know I'm sounding like someone who is 81, not 31, but when people say that your 20s is a journey of self-discovery, it's absolutely true. Who I was in 2010 to who I am in 2019 doesn't look radically different on the outside. I still look pretty similar, and I still like a lot of the same things. My character hasn't fundamentally changed. But my way of looking at the world, at others, and at myself has grown so much. I'm far more confident and more sure of my place in the world. More aware of my shortcomings and of my talents. I've matured. I'm still learning, and I'm aware of how much further I have to go. But I honestly think that one day I'll look back and say definitively this was the decade I learned and grew the most.


A decade of mystery

No, I didn't become an MI6 spy (or did I?), but the decade began with a question mark. I was in a happy little uni bubble, burying my head in the sand as to what would happen when I had to leave and face the real world. The bubble popped, of course, and real adulthood struck with a harsher blow than I expected. I've spent the last eight years making plans and then coming to terms with what actually happened (my plans, I've found, rarely work out in the way I've envisioned). I've tested careers, friendships, romance, dreams and often felt like I was stumbling in the dark, looking for something, or maybe somebody to lead me towards the exit. I've learned I'm not in control as much as I want to be - and that's a good thing. If life had worked out exactly as I wanted it, I wouldn't have done the things I've done, met the people I've met, or become the person I am today.

In some ways the decade is ending with a questions mark too. I have hopes and dreams for the 2020s, but I honestly don't know where I'll be in 2029. Married with kids? A bestselling author? Living on an alpaca farm? A combination of all three? I'm looking forward to finding out.

A look to the new decade

I'm honestly excited by what 2020 and beyond will bring. The fun and hope and excitement and love and beauty that's awaiting me. Of course there will be struggles and sadness too, but that's no reason not to hope. It's a fresh page, a clean slate and all of those other hackneyed sayings. But just because those phrases are tired, doesn't mean they aren't true.

Maybe your 2010s were marked by wonder, by tragedy, or by a little of both. Maybe you did everything you wanted to, or maybe there are things you desperately want but have yet to achieve. Take a deep breath and step into the new decade. I'll end this with a quote by obscure, indie author C.S. Lewis.

'There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind' 

The 12 Days of Christmas: my own version

Ho ho ho and Merry Christmas! Yes, the Christmas season is upon and I for one could not be more delighted. Partly because I love the Christmas festivities but mostly because I get two unadulterated weeks of holiday. I'm torn between wanting to cram my days full of fun activities or hiding away at my parent's house and doing nothing all day.

In an attempt to try to keep some balance, and in honour of that fun but silly carol, I've decided to create my own 12 Days of Christmas - a list of 12 things that I am aiming to do and think about in these last few weeks of 2019.


12 sleeps a-slumbering

Like many of you, these past few months have been BUSY. Work has been stressful, the social occasions have ramped up, and I am just exhausted. I've been running on this nervy, end-of-year energy for these last couple of weeks and I am ready to just stop. I am taking these next 2 weeks to rest and recuperate. Early to bed, late to rise, heck, even midday naps. And yes, I will be living in pajamas, thank you very much.


11 Hallmark movies

I adore the made-for-tv Christmas movies. You know, where a busy woman goes to a small, snowy podunk town and falls in love with the local Christmas tree farm owner who teaches her the real meaning of Christmas, and then they fall in love in 2 days and share a single chaste kiss under the mistletoe. Those ones. With the wooden acting and bad dialogue that are obviously all filmed in the same Canadian town during summer. They're terrible and predictable and there's something so cosy and comforting in that. It's not Christmas without them.


10 kilometres running

I've run two 10k races since 2018, but my minor athletic tendencies have, shall we say, dwindled over the past few months. I'm pretty sure I saw tumbleweed roll past my trainers the other day. I'm using this holiday period to attempt, amongst the chocolate and gin consumption, to try and get a bit more exercise and start training for my upcoming 10k (as of yet unbooked). Let's go 2020 - maybe I'll even try to run TWO races.


9 cuddles with kitties

I miss not having my cat in London. Some nights nothing would be better than having a fluffy cat curled up purring on my lap while rain lashes on the window pane. Instead, I have to make do with luring the local cat to me so I can stroke it before it runs away, and then chase after it yelling 'come back I looooove you.' This may or may not be a true story.

I make the most of my time in Gloucester and smother my poor cat with affection. He's definitely plotting my demise.


8 buns a-baking

Let's face it, most of us are eagerly awaiting the delicious Christmas food. As an amateur but enthusiastic baker, I'm going to be making the most of my parent's spacious kitchen and their 40 year old - but still working - Kenwood mixer to whip up some tasty festive goodies.


7 Brights a-gathering

We're lower on numbers in the Bright clan this Christmas which is sad, as Christmas is the only time of the year we're ever all really together. But nevertheless, I'm still looking forward to catching up with the family that's around and revelling in our quirky Bright-ness. I'm especially excited about Auntie time with my little niece and nephew. The one bad thing about living in London is not getting to see them so much and they've grown a little more each time I see them. And if I'm more into playing Barbies than they are, well, that's just me doing my familial duty.


6 books for reading 

I don't read as much as I used to, or as much as I want to. Partly because life is busy and partly because I simply don't make enough time for it. As a massive bookworm, I take advantage of this time to read ALL THE BOOKS. Whether it's the latest must-read, a classic book I've never got around to reading, a trashy romance or some light YA fantasy, few things make me happier than curling up on the sofa and getting lost in another world. Bliss.


5 board games

Like with most families, Christmas is the time that our board games get taken out of the drawer, dusted off and played in an epic battle for supremacy and bragging rights. While I'm partial to the brainy, quiz type ones, I'll play anything this time of year. Except Monopoly. That's the devil's game.


4 creative outlets

While Christmas movies and Boxing Day tv will certainly be on the agenda, I am purposely going to explore my creative side a bit more. It could be writing or drawing or heck, maybe I'll dust off my old guitar, Jeff Bob Jimmy, and torture my family with my clunky playing and slightly off-key singing. Anything that gives me that little bit of a creative spark.


3 deep breaths 

Christmas can also be a bit overwhelming sometimes. There's this underlying to have the best, merriest time ever, where no one snaps at each other or flips the Monopoly board. While it can be a wonderful time, for some it can be lonely, or difficult, or just a bit too much. I'm going to remind myself to be kind to myself this Christmas. To not beat myself up if I've eaten too much, or if I've had a bit too much socialisation, or if I'm not having the best time ever (!!!) every single day. Sometimes it's ok to just...be.


2 digital detoxes

I have a confession to make. I've become a bit of a phone addict. According to my Instagram stats, I average 50 minutes a day on it. That information was a bit of a shock to the system - what am I actually doing on there? - and so I've determined to try to put my phone down a bit this Christmas and practice being present. I also want to try and cut down on screen time in general, so I'll be purposely choosing other entertainment avenues other than my computer and the tv. I brought out the old chess set today and considered doing a puzzle. Apparently going home turns me into a pensioner.


1 hope 

During this crazy time, it's easy to get bogged down with so much - stuff. With all the presents, and the parties, it's easy to forget why I'm actually celebrating. I hate to trot out that 'remember the reason for the season' cliche but for me, it's so important to keep that at the forefront of my mind. Christmas is about hope - the hope for the world born in Jesus all those years ago. In this crazy political climate, remembering that gives me a sense of peace. That even though this world seems dark, there's a light through out it all. There's hope that everything will be ok.

Falling into happiness

One thing I have been challenging myself about recently is finding the joy in my every day. Too often I live in the future, my thoughts racing ahead to the what-comes-nexts rather then sitting back and looking around with appreciation at the here and nows. 2019 is moving a breakneck speed yet it's felt pretty quiet at the same time. I haven't really had a year of monumental moments. Ok sure, in the past month I've been to Cyprus, Paris and watched a film in a drawing room at Buckingham Palace (I will never stop talking about that experience) but generally life has been rather steady.

As I was walking home last week, much later than usual after a busy day at work, I felt...happy. There was no real reason to feel happy, just as there was no real reason to feel unhappy. Nothing drastically good or bad had happened, life just...was. And yet I felt content. More than fine. The gentle kind of happiness, the type that creeps up on you, like the morning sun on your face as you sit basking in its warmth. When you just feel that, yes, life is good.

I have decided to put this all into words - an online thankfulness journal, of sorts. So this autumn, happiness is...


...the changing of the seasons

I'm not going to lie. After coming back from 30 degree heat and swimming in the Mediterranean sea in Cyprus, to rainy, dark Britain, I wasn't exactly thrilled about the start of autumn. But then the trees started turning golden, the leaves underfoot perfectly crunchable, and the air began to get that fresh, crisp scent and I remembered why it is my favourite season. It's the time for woolly jumpers and cuddly scarves. Boots and leggings and coats. A new haircut or a knitted hat. Over-flavoured and over-priced coffee and burying your nose into a new book. Bake Off and period dramas and scented candles. The list goes on. Maybe that makes me a basic white girl, but I don't really care. Pass me those Ugg boots and call me Brittany. Pumpkin Spice Lattes for life.

...getting creative

To me autumn is the time to start anew. With only three months until the end of the year, heck, the decade, something awakens in me and I start to shift gear into full throttle project mode. After a full day at work, it can be hard to muster the energy to do something creative instead of flopping in front of the tv until it's time for bed. As the nights draw in and the weather gets colder, I'm using this time to do things that spark my creativity. I'm trying to remember that it's not about how good I am, it's how good it makes me feel.

...living in London

I know, I know, this one is on my 'forever' list but after three years of living here, I often forget how much I love this place. It becomes routine, mundane, just another part of life. I generally avoid town on the weekends because it becomes a crowded, touristy hellhole, and so weeks can go by without me ever really feeling like I live in one of the biggest and best cities in the world. A few weeks ago I was walking over Waterloo Bridge and I was suddenly struck with an overwhelming gratitude. I live in LONDON. The home of literature and theatre and a thousand historical figures. And not only that, London feels like mine. I have my 'places' - coffee shops I love, parks I frequent, little side streets that are off the beaten path. It's the place I always dreamed about and I'm going to try to appreciate every moment, even if that will be difficult on the rush hour Piccadilly line.

...saying no

I can be a bit of a yes person. Sometimes because I feel like I should say yes, but mostly because I want to do ALL OF THE THINGS. There are so many experiences in life and choosing not to do one seems like a big waste. But even though I want to do all the things, whether I should is another matter entirely. The more I start to take time for myself, the more I realise I need that time. As much as it can suck saying no to a fun social engagement, I know that I'll be a better me if I just take that time to sleep, or read, or have a bath or just switch off. And through this, I've started learning more about myself. About the things that drain me and the things that cause me to light up. The more I do it, the easier saying no becomes - and the more I like it.

...deepening friendships
Lastly, I'm truly cherishing the friendships I currently have, and am intentionally carving out more space to enjoy time with them. Whether it's chats over coffee, going to the cinema or even just sending funny memes to each other, few things bring me such joy in life than spending time with the people I love.

The ambiguous conundrum of living your dream

Occasionally, when I go back to my home town or talk to a friend I haven't seen in a while, someone will comment on how I look like I'm living my best life. They've seen my Instagram photos, seen all the places in London I've been, all the social occasions. I will interject to tell them that I'm only posting the highlights (I've written about that before), that life isn't always G&Ts at cool bars. They know that but still, I'm living in my favourite city and having fun, right? "You're living your dream!" they tell me.

And there I pause, baffled, because my experience of living my dream is far less glamourous than they're imagining.

Let me set the scene: it's Wednesday after work. I'm sitting in my small bedroom in Highbury, wearing joggers and a baggy hoodie. I should really be out for a run, but it's raining so instead I'm sitting on my bed in my, quite frankly, abominably messy room, sipping a cup of tea and resembling some sort of sloth-woman hybrid. And before you tell me that everyone does that on a weekday, I was doing almost exactly the same thing on Friday night...

Not exactly the inspiring, exciting, shiny London life I had imagined, in my long-ago daydreams. And it makes me wonder, as I look at those I consider to be tracking way ahead of me, the ones who truly do seem to be living their dreams - what is life actually like on the other side?

I think we all get a bit of life-envy. The whole grass-is-greener situation. I sigh wistfully over the lives of those who get to travel around the world (for work or pleasure), another day another cool photo of some far-off city that I can only dream of visiting. I gaze with longing at the people who are out and about with their jobs, dashing this place and that, getting wined and dined by clients, or attending exclusive parties, while I sit at my desk and debate whether or not I should go to the vending machine at 4pm when the snacks are 20% off.

But for the ones who have started their own business, or run a marathon, or bought a house, or have kids, it probably doesn't feel as fabulous as it looks on the outside. There's the old saying that talent is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration and I think that is probably what living your dream is actually like. It's the daily grind, the monotony that no one sees. People see the infrequent highs but they don't see you in the trenches. The plugging away well into the nights. The lack of sleep. The scrimping and saving. The hoping and praying. The struggle.

There's a song in The Greatest Showman that really resonates with me.

'Cause every night I lie in bed, the brightest colours fill my head, a million dreams are keeping me awake'.

I'm that person who has a million dreams. Too many to ever realistically achieve them all (or perhaps, not the talent to achieve them all. I'll sadly never be a Tony award-winning musical actress). And it makes me wonder, what happens to the person with that one dream? Do they just enjoy it forever, feeling completely satisfied in life? Do they escalate the dream to the next level? Do they have to find a new dream? Do they feel empty after the initial bliss wears off? Have a minor breakdown because they don't know what to do next? Whatever it is, I want to know.

And then there are those who are still dreaming. Those of us who are slowly working away at something that seems so far away. Maybe there are some of us who are too afraid to try, because being within a fingertips grasp of the dream but not getting it is somehow worse than never having it at all. Or there's the underlying societal pressure of ACHIEVE, DO, BE SOMETHING that makes us feel unworthy. That we'll never be good enough to get there, or we're not doing enough to get there. Or even that our dreams are too small. You want to work in a bakery? Stop being so small-minded, you can do so much more! You can own a bakery. Wait, you don't want to own a bakery? You should want to own a bakery! Own TEN bakeries! Open a bakery chain in every town in England, you loser!

Surely, I think, there must to be more to life than the constant dream-chasing.

Maybe that's the whole point of it. You can't really be 'living your best life' because really, what does that actually mean? Does it mean living in an elevated state of happiness, because you've got what you were hoping for? Does it take into account the days you feel like rubbish? Is it black-and-white? Are you either living your dream or not? I think living your dream is simply...living. It's the journey, the road along the way with its highs and lows and all that's in between. And, sure, it's good to want things for your future and to work hard to get there. But you have to be careful not to live too much in the future, in the fantasy of your dream. That you'll be working or wishing so hard to get to there that you'll miss the life that's in front of you - it's all so fleeting.

Maybe one day you'll look back at where you are and say, oh, maybe THAT was the dream after all.

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.