Showing posts with label being an adult. Show all posts
Showing posts with label being an adult. Show all posts

15 Things For 2015.

Wednesday, 31 December 2014


So this is the time of year that lots of folks set (and attempt to stick to) New Year’s resolutions. I’ve done so in the past (some instances more successfully than others) because on some level a new start, the optimism of summertime and the resolve to improve your life is pretty darn appealing.

The premise makes sense. It takes roughly thirty days to change a habit or alter your routine for the long-term. The problem I’ve always had with the whole thing is the idea that you can overhaul your outlook and happiness within such a time-frame. Certainly, by mid-February or early March I’ve forgotten all about my inspired start to the New Year. Time does its terrible dance and before I know it I’m making a whole bunch of strangely familiar resolutions all over again. So this year I’m instead making a list of things for all of this next year; The Fab List of 2015. Areas to improve, fears to overcome, experiences to try. Not setting a strict deadline on any of them but making a bucket-list of sorts for the here and now. Solidifying what I want from this year and how I can make it happen. 


Here are some ideas (in no particular order) for your own list should you decide to try along with me. 

1. If you’re organized, let in some spontaneity, if you’re care-free, try some structure.
2. Be inspired! Don’t let your days fall into routine; seek a new perspective or set of skills.
3. Make time for people. Work and sleep takes a big chunk of your day but we’re now more connected than ever; check in with your nearest and dearest. Make an effort.
4. Stop procrastinating and book that ticket now; see your concert, go to your play, hop on that plane. Wages can’t be all bills and taxes. 
5. Take a class in something; learning a new set of skills helps keep your brain a happy chappy.
6. Find yourself a creative outlet; it might be drawing, writing, making music, anything.
7. Take some time out for yourself every day to be still. We live in a society of always-doing-something so even just five minutes of you and reflection of some kind is ace. Five minutes of you pinning things or candy-crushing doesn’t count by the way.
8. If you have a few habits you want to change, or routines to alter, pick one each month to focus on rather than trying to wrangle all of them by January’s end. Set achievable goals.
9. The next time you scream at someone in traffic, slam doors in frustration or leap to conclusions about how this person and that person hate you because of something they said or did, stop and take a breath. It isn’t the end of the world. Perspective is important.
10. Be kinder to yourself. We all struggle, we’re all human, dammit. Give yourself a break.
11. Go to a restaurant you’ve never visited before or try a new style of food.
12. Write letters to your loved ones. Might seem saccharine-and-way-too-sweet but if we’re willing to air our grievances on social media (I have a blog for crying out loud!) then why not divulge how much we cherish the people who are important to us?
13. Give; a donation, a present, your time, anything. Giving without thought of reward rocks.
14. Surround yourself with people who help you grow rather than tear you down.
15. Practice empathy every day.

See any ideas you like? Have any suggestions of you own? Please share them with me! Will do a monthly blog post so we can all check our progress. Let’s kick 2015’s butt, I say. See you in the new year, folks. xx


Childish Adult.

Friday, 4 July 2014






Not quite sure when it happened but I wasn’t ready for it. Not really. Not even if I was fab at pretending I actually was. One minute I was chasing my brother (or being chased) around the backyard, daydreaming imaginary worlds of awesomesauce and living my life according to parental-set guidelines. The next? I’m chasing money (and it chases me but not in a yay way), finding my imaginings to be a little terrifying and trundling along kinda helplessly without my training wheels. I’m not a complete hopeless case by any means but there is a whiff of train-wreck hovering nearby that requires a lot of neglectful ignoring and blissful diversion to keep at bay. I’m fine, sure, but I can’t shake the feeling that I went to bed a child and woke up a grown-up; that I slept through the part where I mature and learn stuff.

I know too that life is one big crazy hard journey that everyone travels and no single wacky trip is the same. You have to find your own way, face your own struggles, work out what, where or who you love and latch your groovy wagon to this making-it-up-as-we-go ride. No one really knows what to do, no one stops needing their parents or looking to others for inspiration, advice, assistance or companionship. I just find it so weird in my more reflective moods (which happen a lot cause I’m deep like that, yup) I recall with complete befuddlement my childish ideas of where I’d be in life by now, which boxes I’d have ticked and the sort of Lyn I’d be. Without seeming ungrateful; I fully acknowledge that I can look around at who, where, what and count my blessings. Wholeheartedly. But it doesn’t stop me shaking my head in wonder at the ten year old me or the seventeen year old me that thought she could look ahead and predict the winds the road would take. I miss the childish tendency to implicitly trust that things would fall into place. That naïve hope has been tempered by reality and becoming aware of that feels harsh and unfair. 



As a teacher, I see young people at many different stages in their childhood or adolescence and it strikes me on almost a daily basis that the reason I can relate to them (in some regards, anyway!) is because we were all fundamentally the same at those times in life. I feel a twinge of sympathy for those kids that seem so sure of what life holds in store for them but I’m not jaded enough to set them straight. Hard as it is, I guess that is growing up (or trying to anyway); always regulating your expectations, your view of the world, your perception of yourself so that you can still evolve into the most fantastic version of yourself despite well-laid plans not eventuating.