Life's too short... Pina Coladas all round!

I've always hated the old cliché "Life's too short...". It used to irritate me. I was the sceptic who would roll her eyes and say "Yes, in an ideal world, nobody would go to work and we would all have a great merry life drinking pina coladas and singing, and braiding each other's hair and laughing, but I am a realist. Life is hard". Life's too short to sit around dreaming about the ideal life...

I learned something this year. Exactly 11 months ago today in fact.
And this thing I learned has become one of those pivotal moments that occur in life only very occasionally. I realized, truly realized this...

I am mortal. And Life is pretty short...

Now obviously, before that moment I had a basic understanding (B at GCSE) of how human beings work, of course I did. I sat in biology and listened to how we are born real small and cute, then grow up, sometimes make our own small humans, get old, deteriorate and then...die. But this 'science' had never really transferred from my head, down my neck into my chest and settled in my heart. I was invincible and I had all the time in the world.

It took a tragedy to kickstart me back to life. And after that moment I knew I had to do something significant, that I would remember forever. I did what I always do when I reach a foggy crossroads. I prayed. And I talked to The Boy. But no lightbulbs came on. I love it in cartoons when the lightbulb clicks on above their heads and they do something amazing. But I had no lightbulb. I had a storm cloud and a huge question mark.

In the months to follow, in realising that life was mega short, I dedicated my days to the small droplets of enjoyment I could mix into my comings and goings. Anything I could do that would make me think I was 'living life to the full'. Life was too short, for instance, to not dye my hair pink, so I did that... Life was too short to eat healthy vegan salads whilst Dominos pizza was still in existence, so that also happened. A lot... And Life was certainly too short to have an early night on a Thursday before school when there was an Elton John tribute on at my favourite cocktail bar! (Hello..? Honky Cat!!)

Then, our best friends, who had also felt the cataclysmic change of the tragedy, were sat with us in the pub and they announced that they were dropping their sensible-grown-up-go-to-work-and-pay-bills lifestyle and were going to be travelling the world to learn about organic farming and community living.

LIGHTBULB...

I am a homebird. I feel very 'Christopher Columbus' just by living in Surrey, 237 miles away from where my family live in Preston! But when my friends told us about their coming adventure and I saw joy sparkle in their eyes, anticipation and freedom in their smiles, I realized that I need to see the world. There lies my challenge and there lies the answer to the question that had been haunting me: What can I do in response to my new-found understanding of life? What can I do that might challenge me? Change me?

And so in exactly 1 month, The Boy and I will be jetting off to India, the first of 10 countries we will explore over the next 12 months.

Before planning this trip, I spent a great deal of my time fighting feelings of inadequacy, feeling like I wasn't making half the difference to the world as some of my friends. I imagined God with a hierarchical points chart on his wall, examining what everyone was up to...

"Oh yes, there's Cindy and Karl feeding the hungry babies in Africa, that's 100 points...Let's see now, ah yes, there's Pauline visiting the street children in their slum, ok so that's 90 points to her... and.. hmm.. Hannan there, merely chatting to a homeless man in Preston... oh dear, only 10 points I'm afraid! Keep trying Hannan!"

When we shared with family and friends the news that something exciting was going to be happening in our lives, the first thing they said (after "OH! You're pregnant?!) was "Wow! How exciting! And what will you be doing in these countries?" At this point, The Boy and I would look at each other and he would have to speedily interject with the truth ("Just enjoying life, reconnecting with each other, with the world, with God") before I blatantly lied in my panic ("Oh err, building orphanages, helping blind old ladies, err... blocking up volcanoes, sewing up the ozone layer, you know, helpful things!") I was worried that it seemed ever so selfish of us to spend a whole year 'just enjoying life'...

But then, I took a step back. I took a fresh hard look at who I truly believe my God is. And I realized that I believe in an active, alive God. I believe in a God who can use me to make the world a more loving place, wherever I am (even Preston!) I don't think you need to be in Africa, India, slums or shanty towns to be making a difference. Don't get me wrong. There has been some amazing work done in these places and of course these people need love and help. But I reckon The Boy and I have been given a secret 007 undercover mystery mission. So secretive we don't even know what it is yet.

Maybe we will meet someone who has no friends or family. Someone who is can't bear the loneliness another moment. Maybe we can become family to that person and remind them they are loved.

Maybe we will see such beauty and love in the world that it will refresh the sense of awe we were born with, the awe of a child seeing a huge tree or a thunderstorm or a rainbow. My class ran to the window and stared for about 15 minutes at a rainbow a couple of weeks ago. I was all "Sit down! It's just a rainbow, keep doing your maths and writing and learning and that!" And they were all "Err.. excuse me, this is insane and beauty and wow, and I'm gonna keep looking if you don't mind." They learned about the beauty of a rainbow that day. Adults have lost that wonder. I want mine back.

Or maybe it will re-ground us. Remind us of how loved and cared for we are, how much 'stuff' we have that we don't need, how much wealth, how amazing our NHS and education system is. How important friends and family are.

I'm so excited to find out parts of our secret mission as the year progresses. I'll be blogging from around the world in case you are interested in all the goings-on!

Now excuse me but I must dash. I'm going to grab a Pina Colada, sing and braid The Boy's hair because, hey, Life's Too Short!

Love Hannan xxx

The dark side of our marriage...

I have a confession to make...
Being married is not all smiles and sunshine, rainbows and sherbet and snuggles. It aint all hot air balloons and angels singing and eyes that go heart shaped when you see each other...

The Boy and I have a dark side...

...Sometimes he pulls the duvet off me and spins round and round until he is in a cocoon, meaning I have to lie cold and shivery until he decides he's had his fun and unwraps himself so I can get in...
... Occasionally, I wait until my hands are icy cold and then put them on his tummy when he's snuggly warm in bed which he hates...
...Very occasionally I will come into the room to see that he has let the dog lie on our bed...or more accurately on MY pillow...

 

...Sometimes, I pick his clothes up off the floor, knowing full well they are dirty, and put them neatly back in his drawer as a sneaky surprise reminder that clothes don't walk themselves into the wash basket...
...And SOMEtimes, we are BOTH guilty of eating the last piece of chocolate without even checking that the other one doesn't want it...

I told you, there is a VERY dark side to our marriage...

You see, The Boy and I have just had our monthly barney, like a worn out script of the same lines, said in dull monotone voices because "we can't believe we're here again..." We've rehearsed this scene many a time and it seems there's no way to break the cycle.

SO here I was thinking about how cross he made me, and in the way us human folk do when we're annoyed with someone, I was dredging up every little thing that has annoyed me about him lately to really fuel the fire of my rage. Imagine a witch menacingly stirring a pot of green steamy potion while looking into the distance with slitty eyes... That was me about an hour ago.

Until...I had a brainwave.

I decided that for every incident I thought of in which The Boy has annoyed me, or made me cross, I would counterbalance it with a memory of him making me feel loved. Because when do we ever sit and brood over the positive things people do? Usually, we just enjoy the happy moment when it happens, and lock it away in our memories until something specifically reminds us of it, whereby we pull it out, dust it off and smile fondly at it for a small moment. Then back into the brain bank it goes!

We are sometimes more driven and motivated to act upon the negative things that happen in our life than the positive things. SO this is what I decided to do. I wrote a letter to my husband The Boy, thanking him for so many of the positive things he has done for me since we got married a year and a bit ago. Then I decided I could make it an open letter so I could share with you the journey of change I have gone on in the last hour, in the hope you too may feel the sense of victory I feel as I watch the negative thwarted by the positive.
(Please note: This is by no means a declaration of how 'perfect' our marriage is... In fact, I think it's a pretty loud and clear declaration that it aint!! What it is, is a means of showing how to turn a sad squabble around. And believe me, this wasn't an easy journey. I wrote at least 3 drafts of an angry letter before I got to this point!!)

GO LOVE!!!

Dear The Boy,
I picked up a pen an hour ago to tell you all the things you'd done that had made me so mad. But instead of that, here's a list of 'thankyous' for being amazing. Hopefully this will prove more fruitful than my original plan...

Thank you for loving me.
Thank you for crying on our wedding day.
Thank you for the message you secretly wrote on our whiteboard before you left for our wedding, that I found when we returned from our honeymoon. I was well impressed that you had thought ahead to surprise me.

Thank you for playing guitar with me at our best friends' wedding. It meant so much that you wanted to practise so hard to make it really good.
Thank you for making me a cup of tea every morning, even when I'm being a proper princess and refusing to get up.
Thanks for picking up my hints that it was our 6 month anniversary and buying me lilies and chocolate :)
Thank you for reaching out to me when our friend died instead of building a wall.
Thank you for the dime bar you left on my pillow when I'd eaten that entire bag of dime bars and still wanted more...
Thanks for the many snapchat pictures you send me daily...

 

 Yes. You do sometimes annoy me, and we'll probably fight again.
But at least this day I have beaten anger with love, and I'll never take you for granted.

Love,
Hannan xxx

And we will never forget him...

Long ago, when nature and mankind were at peace, there grew a tree by a river. He was tall and mighty and filled with age-grown wisdom and love. He had seen so many people throughout his years and they had relied on him for all sorts of things, growing friendships from tiny seeds into bonds as sturdy as the tree himself..

Some of his friends were weary and sad. Those people leant against him, feeling the energy slowly return as they waited in his presence.

Some seeked shelter from the elements. They found safety under the canopy of his leaves, secure in the knowledge that he had their back.

Some just needed a friend to share their fears and dreams with. He listened with all his being, swishing his leaves in the breeze as they explored their future paths and unpacked their problems, leaving them at the foot of his trunk.

He spoke little but loved much.

And everyone who met him took a part of him away with them, a gift from the tree who knew exactly what they needed. The ones who needed inspiration were given a leaf with them as they travelled. When they needed encouragement they looked at the leaf, tracing the intricate patterns, the asymmetric designs, marveling at the way the colours flowed among one another and back again. Each leaf was unique. And this is how the tree taught them of nature and it's ability to inspire the downtrodden.

The ones who needed support through their trials were given a branch, strong and sturdy, an extra limb for when they were weak. With it they could climb the highest mountains and cross dangerous torrents. They leant on it when weary, and defended themselves from the wild. And this is how the tree taught them that nothing is too big to conquer and they are the masters of their own destiny.

The ones who needed soothing were given the stories and songs that the tree had taught them. They could sit and stir up from their heart the wisdom of their old friend, remember the whistling of the wind in its leaves, the dancing of the branches in the breeze, the stories within his bark, story after story after story etched like the concentric circles within his trunk. From his first story as a sapling through to the final climatic tale.

One night, a mighty storm happened upon the land, the winds screaming like banshees across the sky, the rain firing bullets into the river below. The tree swayed and danced through the night, allowing the tempest to move him, joining in with the song of the storm, the beat of the rain, the melody of the wind. His body bent and creaked and became the storm, nature and nature, atoms and elements. The tree told his final story as it left the earth it had been rooted in for so many years.

And so when the people heard of the tree's final tale they came and sat together around the place it had once stood. One by one they brought out the parts of the tree that they had carried with them throughout their lives, from the years, months or days in which they had known him, the parts he had shared. They revealed his stories, each one different, each one a testimony to how the tree had changed them.

And in doing so the tree lived on. The stories that once came from within his bark were passed on and on. And the greatest story of all is this:

That once, there stood a tree.
A tree who gave away all he had to help all he met.
A tree who spoke little and loved much.
And a tree who danced through the biggest storm the world had seen, beautifully at one with nature.

And we will never forget him.