Sometimes I get stressed about life (don’t we all): what on earth I’m doing and why; whether I’m doing the ‘right’ thing (is there ever a ‘right’ thing, strictly speaking?).  Usually it’s when I haven’t earned much money in a month and am feeling worried about (lack of) money.

Generally I enjoy my varied and relatively flexible lifestyle but at the times when I get stressed and worried about finances (in particular in order to be able to pay for things for the children) I usually start scanning the job websites, hoping that there may be that one really interesting full-time job out there which will use ALL my skills and experience (surveying, management, writing, presenting, catering, creative, organisational, language-learning, music-loving…) as well as pay a decent salary and fit in around childcare…

The last job I applied for, because I thought I ‘ought’ to, didn’t really appeal right from the beginning.  I won’t say precisely what it was but it was a full-time surveying job in the public sector.  There were one or two aspects in the job description which made me think ‘hmmm’ but by the time I came to the interview I had got my head around possibly working full-time as a surveyor again.  Early on in the interview it didn’t feel right… and I left feeling that it was not going to be my job and that I’d feel stifled working there.  It won’t be any surprise to hear that I didn’t get it, and nor did I lose any sleep over not getting it.

At the stage at which I was applying and thinking ‘should I/shouldn’t I?’, at least two friends said why couldn’t I do surveying as well as being a chef/writing.  As I drove home from the interview I realised they were right: and my conclusion was that perhaps I needed to embrace a portfolio career.  After all, I love the variety it brings.  A typical week when the kids are at school has a fairly strict structure to it so that I can fit everything in, but there’s a flexibility as well because I’m not tied to a particular office or employer 5 days a week.

So, the majority of my hours are doing surveying work but based from home.  Then there is a day and a half at college, at least, plus homework; writing the regular weekly newsletters I write and sometimes other bits of writing (I’d love to write more features), an Italian class and homework; and cooking for dinners.

There are benefits to all the elements of what I do (you’ll notice that there’s no singing practice included above, which is something I really do need to do more of): surveying is something I’ve been doing for years, and is a profession which, prior to children, I got fairly senior within.  I feel confident doing it (most of the time) and it earns a reasonable hourly rate – though there’s not as much of it in Cumbria as down south.  But my current boss is good to work for and the work keeps coming in, and I get to travel around a bit.

College and the chef work appeal to the creative side to me and also it’s an area where I’m learning lots of new things and progressing – which satisfies the restless, always-wanting-to-learn-something-new part of me, as does learning italian (when I finish the catering course I think I’d like to do Italian A level).

The final bit of the money-earning jigsaw is my writing.  I get a huge amount of satisfaction from this and feel it’s something I do well.  I love meeting the wide range of enormously interesting people I interview, and also it often makes use of or complements all the things I especially love: singing, running, cooking, history, living up here…

The downside of the current portfolio career is that I never know exactly what my income is going to be from month to month, and I’m inclined to say ‘yes’ to any offer of work just in an attempt to earn as much as I possibly can – as any freelancer knows – and then I’ll end up at times wondering where I’m going to fit everything in.  But if one of the children is ill I can usually work from home and look after him/her; if they need to be taken to the dentist, doctor, to piano exams etc. then I can take them, even if it does mean not earning any money for a couple of hours.  I can work when I feel like it – late at night; early in the morning (actually, no – I never feel like working particularly early in the morning!); at weekends; at times when I don’t have the children, and I am in charge of my own prioritisation.   One of my closest friends commented that at least I could be myself.

When I got home from the previously-mentioned job interview I had a phone call with a local magazine about some freelance work; and I’m now talking to someone about some possible ‘development chef’-type work.  One door closes; another opens.

And my conclusion?  That I should actively embrace my portfolio career; embrace the fact that I use a range of skills and experience by having a varied work (and educational) life.  And as a result I feel far more positive, optimistic and confident than I did when I was trying to fit myself into the ‘correct’ mould for that last job.

As we approach the end of another year it’s natural to question what you’ve achieved and to think about what might be to come, and what you may want to achieve in the forthcoming year.

I started the year feeling quite low, for many reasons.  But at the same time I knew that my introverted time was over: I needed work which got me out and about and meeting people, and I needed to feel part of my local community again.

Changes never happen fast and they often happen in ways you hadn’t anticipated.  As I started looking for an extra source of income rather than only working from home, and thought possibly about waitressing, a friend came to dinner.  A few weeks later she sent me a message with details of a local café wanting a chef.  I wasn’t sure she’d got the right person but “you forget – I’ve been to dinner” she said.  She also suggested I start a local supper club as she felt that people would happily pay to come to dinner at my house – however even so I felt awkward asking my friends to pay to come to dinner.  The idea of Brampton Supper Club was born, with proceeds going to charity, and in its own small way it’s proved quite successful and – again in its own small way – is growing.  I’m now also obtaining private chef work once in a while.

Feeling that I needed an extra qualification to work as a chef, although I’d say enthusiasm and experience count for more, I enrolled on a course at Carlisle College.  With some trepidation, I must admit – I’m 20 years older than the next youngest person, and 40 years older than the youngest student in my year.  But I’m enjoying it and definitely learning new things, in part due to an inspiring tutor who challenges us but also makes me feel that I do indeed have other experience to offer.  And in a strange way it makes me feel young rather than old!

I was also asked if I’d like to write for some local newsletters.  I have always loved meeting people and asking them about their lives and then writing it up, so I jumped at the chance – and it’s inspired me to start pitching stories to magazines again.  There are some fascinating people about!

Related to all of this, I’ve realised many things over the past few months and years, but the subject of ‘appreciation’ has been exercising my mind a fair bit recently.  A couple of years ago a friend said that she thought I relied too much on other people’s feedback and good opinion to feel good about myself; another friend sent me the saying at the top of this post.  Both contain truth but like so many ‘headlines’, don’t tell the entire story.  Clearly totally relying on other people’s opinions about you does not develop a deep-rooted inner sense of self-esteem and self-worth: that has to come from inside.  But appreciation can definitely help that self-esteem grow, and destructive criticism can do exactly the opposite.  We human beings are social animals and we function by living alongside each other.  We have the power to destroy self-confidence by a few carefully chosen nasty words; we can be manipulative and bullying; even murderous.  Or, as Jane Fonda once wrote, “we can take anything in nature and focus on the negative: but the positive beauty of it can change our life”.

This was reflected, as so often happens, when I picked up a copy of The Chimp Paradox (Professor Steve Peters) a few days ago.   Was it serendipity that I happened to open it at the section which talks about the goblin on the fridge: about praising your children first and foremost for who they are, and secondly for their achievements.  Many of us are driven to achieve, or behave in certain ways, because deep down inside we are still seeking approval (and trying to boost our self-esteem?) – not necessarily any longer that of our parents but of ‘society’.  It’s a difficult balance, isn’t it: the world is an amazing place and there’s a huge amount to explore and to learn; and to keep pushing your boundaries, the limits of your comfort zone, is surely what being human is about.  It’s natural then to want to ‘achieve’ – to do well – in new subjects.  Where does the line come between seeking approval that what you have done is good and worthwhile and seeking approval because you need it for your own self-esteem?  But when, also, is it time to be brave and start new things which some people may think you are crazy, if not irresponsible, to do?

I’ve seen destructive behaviours so much over the years: from parents, from bosses, from partners, from people who, for whatever reason, want to pull you down, and when you’re learning a subject or skill or new to a ‘relationship’ (friendship, work place or familial) then it’s natural to want to be accepted – ‘approved’ of.  I’m not proud to admit that I’ve been destructively critical of people myself, particularly when I’ve felt attacked or insecure: I’m all too aware of how easily I could destroy my own children’s confidence, but if I’m in a bad temper or feeling stressed it’s all too easy to be snappy and short rather than provide constructive criticism.  As a woman, I have always felt strongly that I wanted my daughter to grow up to be a strong, confident woman: but as a parent everybody will understand how difficult it is at times when your children don’t do what you want.  There’s free rein and there’s free rein…

The good thing is that is the year when I’ve been able to say ‘I can do without this’ when people have been destructively critical.  It’s not that I can’t take constructive criticism – after all, life is about constantly learning and I’m the first one to beat myself up when I don’t feel I’m learning fast enough or don’t feel that what I’m doing is good enough.  It’s made me realise that self-esteem isn’t about not wanting – or indeed needing – the good opinion of other people: it’s about being able to walk away when things are getting too destructive.  When it’s someone you love it is incredibly hard and can feel as if you’re tearing yourself in half; even with friends it can be difficult and feel disloyal. When it’s a job and you need the money you can feel guilty and worried: but you can bet your bottom dollar that if you take the risk then something better will come along.  When it’s a case of doing something you know to be the right thing but getting told you ‘shouldn’t’ then it’s a case of being brave; hearing the reasons and checking whether they have any validity but going with your heart.

2017 was a year of new beginnings, with the seeds which were planted in 2015 beginning to show some growth.  I have met or re-met new peoples; I have been lucky to have a ‘team’ of friends and acquaintances who support me, appreciate me, and help me feel good about what I do and am trying to do.  A word many people have used about me over the past two to three years is ‘lovely’, which is such a huge compliment as it implies not only worthy of being loved but also someone who gives love. People who are lovely do not dish out destructive criticism; they literally radiate happiness, openness, friendliness and helpfulness and make other people feel appreciated and worthwhile (the ticket collector on the train on Christmas Eve was like that).  About to start 2018, I have only vague goals, but I know what I don’t want.  And if I can achieve ‘loveliness’ even in small measure I will have been a success.  People being appreciative, supportive and kind is what helps the world go round smoothly; this is what can make it a happier place.

So here’s to 2018: may it be a year of honest appreciation and mutual understanding.  May it be a year of loveliness.

I have a book called Scott’s Original Miscellany.  I first started dipping into it when staying at an aunt’s house in London.  I later bought myself a copy which has been living in the bathroom, ready to be dipped in and out of as the fancy takes you.  It’s very much a dipping in and out sort of book.  I particularly liked the fact that the 33 degrees of Freemasonry are listed on the same page as are the names of the Seven Dwarves…

I also loved the page about English words which have come from other languages.  I’ve known for a long time that English is a particularly rich language – I remember doing medieval history for ‘A’ level at school and reading that the British are one of the most mongrel of races (Celts, Britons, Vikings, Saxons, Angles, Jutes, Picts, Normans… I do wonder whether modern America is more of an ethnic mix, however) and so what with that and our trading/mercantile/seafaring history, it’s no surprise that the language is equally as diverse.  It’s rubbish that it’s a Germanic language – almost half of our words are of ‘Latin’ origin but because of trade there are also plenty from Portugese and further afield.

So here are a few of my favourites, as quoted in Scott’s Miscellany:

Arabic: “The admiral in the alcove, whilst sitting on his sequin sofa dreaming of harems, should fear the assassin rather than seeking solace in the alchemy of alcohol”  (interesting that ‘alcohol’ is an arabic word);

Aluet Inuit: “My anorak is far too cold for a kayak expedition to the igloo.  Bring me my parka instead”  (perhaps no surprises there);

Farsi/Persian: “This talc bazaar has everything! Just one kiosk alone sells lilac tiaras and azure shawls”  (isn’t ‘azure’ a lovely word – so much more elegant and uplifting than ‘blue’);

Turkish: coffee and yoghurt come from Turkish, as does another lovely blue word – turquoise.

Did you know the word ‘tycoon’ comes from Japanese; or the words ‘robot’ and ‘pistol’ from Czech?  Whereas the parliamentary ombudsman is Swedish – as is tungsten light. Other Scandinavian-origin words include inkling, flaunting, dregs and glitter.  On the other hand at the other end of the world, from hotter climes, we got (took?) avocado, chilli, tomato and chocolate (all Aztec).

Of course Scott’s Miscellany isn’t only about language or the names of things.  Dip into it and you’ll find out obscure facts that you didn’t know before – for example, I had no idea that the last castrato, Moreschi, retired in 1913 and died as late as 1922: you always think of castrati as being very much an 18th century phenomenon.  As an aside, the French film Farinelli (he lived from 1705-1782) depicts in lavish style the life of one of the most famous castrati ever, and digitally merges the voice of a female soprano and a male counter-tenor to create the castrato voice… the film, in French and Italian with sub-titles, contains some divine music.

Which brings me full circle really, and complements a comment I made on another blog earlier.  Language; writing; singing.  ‘These are a few of my favourite things’.

I enjoyed my drive to work in the SUV, but by lunchtime I had cabin fever and needed to get out.  The sea was calling to me once more, especially with the tail end of Storm Henry still hitting the coast.

I’ve discovered something I actually like about Whitehaven (apologies to anyone who loves the town: I don’t).  It’s the sea, particularly on a wild weather day.

I’ve started enjoying walking down to the far end of the harbour’s South Shore, out on to the West Pier where the outer harbour meets the sea.  You leave the calm waters of the inner harbour behind and stand there on top of the West Pier, waves crashing up and sometimes over the pier walls and against the shingle below.

I took the precaution today of leaning against a handrail as the wind turned my coat into a sail and tangled my hair: but I figured that death would come pretty quickly if you did accidentally fall in – your body would become rapidly hypothermic and you’d probably be knocked unconscious within moments, battered between the force of water and the solidity of land.

It struck me that the very physically elemental nature of this was what appealed to me: like running to the top of a hill and standing there gazing into the distance, the wind swirling around you; or great sex, or when singing or swimming feel good.  There’s an acute consciousness of the very guts of your physical being and yet an awareness of the spiritual or soulful as well: earth meets sky; mind, body and soul merge.

I reluctantly left the sea to walk back to the office – to the restrained heat and hushed atmosphere of indoors and paperwork.  But tomorrow I shall go down to the sea again.

A thought I had just before Christmas… (22nd Dec. to be precise)…

I think this whole depression etc. has cleared some of my baggage out. One thing I’ve learnt is to trust a man’s love – not blindly but to have the self-confidence to know that if he says he adores me, he does – he’s honest and he’s doing his best. And if I concentrate on me, my needs, my gut feeling, my creativity, then I am powerful & all will be well.