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Paddle Surfing

— { image via Women’s Health Mag } —

I’m back! I know I’ve been gone a while (I’m not even going to count how long) and I know any excuses would only seem lacklustre (insert standard blogger paragraph about email mountain this and client work that and family crap the other, blah, blah, blah.) When I logged on the other day and took a look at my recent stats and traffic, the first thing that jumped out at me was that someone had come across my site by googling “who said ‘I am the pirate who doesn’t touch anything’? I like to think that on the blog of the blogger who doesn’t blog anything, they found their answer.*

So, how about we kick things off for the umpteenth time with a story? (And my apologies for the language. Kind of.)

A couple of months ago I was in California visiting family, and asked a friend to teach me to paddle board. I always thought that it looked quite easy (I know, you’re probably laughing at me right now, but I honestly thought it couldn’t be that hard), and it looked like my kind of exercise (the kind where you don’t do much but just chat to your friends and enjoy the sunshine). WRONG. Damn that shit is hard. After I’d fallen in twice and flailed around in dark water that scared the crap out of me, I realised that this was a mountain I wasn’t going to conquer (at least not today), and I should just sit back and enjoy the view from the foothills. Those who know me will attest that I do not take failure well. When someone finished a test quicker then me for the first (and only!) time in my make up artist training I actually cried about it I was so pissed off.

But, I climbed back on my board (took some doing, let me tell you), and sitting cross legged with paddle in hand, I followed my friends out of the marina towards a buoy of sea lions, from there we paddled over to the wharf and bobbed around in the cool dark shadows amongst the giant posts, counting starfish. And you know what? I’m pretty sure I enjoyed the ride just as much as I would have had I stepped onto that board and nailed it first time. Oh, and just as we were paddling back to the dock, I felt my gold thumb ring, that hasn’t been taken off for 10 years, slip from my hand and *plink* into the ocean. I think this wound me up more than the not being good at something.

You’re thinking that maybe there’s more to this story? You’re not wrong. The last month in the real world has been more than a little unsettling. A whirlwind move saw me moving into a proper home for the first time in over 2 years (there’s only so long a girl can make living like a gypsy look glamorous) and there have been some serious disruptions in my professional life too. Something I had spent 2 years pouring my heart and soul (not to mention hours and hours of time and effort) into was taken away from me quite unceremoniously. I’m sure that with some distance and a good dose of motivational quotes from Pinterest, I’ll soon start to see it as a blessing. ‘Some things fall apart so that better things can fall together’ and so on… I’m pretty much done with feeling angry, sad and above all disheartened (people really can be the worst).

The moral of this story? I’m gonna go with ‘learn to enjoy falling off your paddle board’, because if I said what I really wanted to say I’d probably get into trouble.

So, a new horizon, new projects in the pipeline and the faintest shimmer of a silver lining.  Let’s finish with a nice picture of some stripes. They make everything better…


— { image }–

*the answer, of course, is Drop Dead Fred. And you all knew that, right?

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