Daffodils for a Valentine lost & found


Winter is starting to segue seamlessly into Spring.  Yesterday, out of the stark seasonal soil I saw Snowdrops sharing their simple white wares with the world.  Daylight is lengthening and soon it will be time for daffodils to unfurl from their bulbs – now hidden in the cold, dark soil, to reveal their capricious yellow faces to the sun.

It’s February – the eponymous month of love. Usually at this time of the year I’m wriggling and writing, yet this year it’s been all quiet on the blogging front – mainly because I’ve had other things on my heart and mind.

Basically I’m nursing a broken heart and have been very preoccupied with all my non-creative work…  And sometimes that’s tiring and sometimes it’s a welcome relief to run around – mentally and physically, but right now it’s time for me to stop and take stock.

A very wise person I know – a certain guru of mine called Richard Wilkins, has reshaped the words ‘broken heart’ in ‘open heart’ and so, while I think of it, I’ve decided to be open hearted instead.  Because being ‘open hearted’ gives me a choice in how I handle this and what legacy it leaves me with.

You see I’ve been single for 6 years, after a traumatic and life changing breakup with my last partner. I went through a lot of anguish after that experience and it threatened to destroy my faith in just about everything I believed in and had worked so hard for up to that point.

But with time and an open heart I found many lessons in these happenings too and my life moved on.  It was all a catalyst for so much change.  I can honestly say that I never would have welcomed this happening to me, but happen it did and so, now I couldn’t have it any other way.

The most precious things to come out of it all were my first book and the life I’ve chosen to love since. It has taken so long to move on, because it’s been important to me to properly heal and be really ready for finding my life long partner.

So, being open hearted (then and now) means that I don’t chose to be a victim of my circumstances and that I’m determined to learn from, rather than bemoan them. But before I’m in danger of engaging smug mode – don’t get me wrong – I have already done the bemoaning bit – big time…

But the bemoaning, the tears and the lessons were all steps on the path to where I am now…

In recent months I took a series of decisions, ones where I often walked the path of silence.  This to me at the time, actually seemed to be the path of least resistance – the one that I believed that would get me to where I wanted to be – someone of significance in someone else’s life.

Alert: If, right now, you are going to bring up the clichés about having to love yourself first (blah, blah, blah) – yes I know all that – thank you, and have practiced it for a very long time; it was just that for me, it was time to change my single perspective. 

So after 6 long years I finally found someone that my heart wanted; though my head was often perplexed with its’ choice.  Still – I’m stubborn and I was determined to find a way to make it all work.

As a result I made a number of choices, starting with my heart and ending most emphatically with my head – which decided, after all, to end the relationship.  And I take responsibility for each and every one of those choices.

Somehow as a coach, part of me feels the situation could have worked out if I’d handled it differently, and that we should have been able to work through the complexities of it all. But I’m not perfect in who I am or what I do and that means that there are still so many lessons for me in love and life, not least because on this occasion I chose to walk silently away.

And so it was that I walked with my heart ‘opened’, into a whole world of pain…

My pain is invisible to the outside world, but vividly colours my inside world instead… And sometimes it’s vomited out as anger and frustration, or else works its’ way through to the surface in tears and regrets, rarely – shared and more often simply solo.

Down in the muddy trough of despair, I’ve allowed myself to wallow. After what feels like a lifetime of fighting and ranting, this time I haven’t fought the pain – I’ve just sat and slipped with it, waiting for it to transmute to truth or rather, relief.

Fighting is hard work and it hurts, so instead I decided just to let it be, to work through and heal in its’ own contusing time.

It was dark in the trough, but gradually the light came in and the mud started to dry. Still, the pain filters and alters and has dried onto my skin as a muddy metaphoric bruise.

The bruise sits on the surface of the contusions below, buried deep into my being. It started out deep and dark and has gradually worn away, changing in colour on the rainbow way to recovery. One day I would be feeling brighter, where the bruise had lightened to yellow and I was glad. And the next day I’d wake up and be in the despairing doldrums again, feeling – one step forwards and two steps back – worse. I’d prod the bruise and still it was so sore. I was impatient to feel pain free, but not yet ready to heal.

But I drank some wine and gave it time.  I meditated, I looked for the lessons and gradually the anger melted and the pain started to wane.  Finally my heart handed my life back over to my head to make sense of it all, only still to snatch it back when I hear a sad song or have wanted to share something with my ‘once was’ man.

Right now I can still see the outline of this mulish bruise on my skin. I decided to walk away from my new relationship, even though – even now, a romantic part of me would still love to work it all out and stay.  But then my head says there’s too much that needs to be different and has made sure that I slammed the door behind me tightly shut.

My heart knows it will have to let go and in time, of course it will. I’m just not ready to ‘move on’ to pastures new yet, as I’m still emotionally attached.  So instead I want to celebrate the love that I had, and continue to feel the euphoria rather the frustration. The experience has made me feel alive in so many ways, not least showing me that regardless of the age of the body, (albeit ‘middle’ aged), this woman’s heart and passion has never grown old.  I’m choosing to channel that love and energy into other things now – to be an amazing coach and writer, to be a sweet sister, an awesome friend and a conspicuous colleague, all in cahoots with the universe – to do the greatest good and have the most glorious time that I can.

It’s time to wake up to spring and all that it brings – the new start cliché of summer possibilities and the quickening of success, curiosity, laughter, humility, learning and of course love, in all its’ manifest splendour.

I mentioned Richard Wilkins at the beginning of this blog and yesterday I went to one of his events, along with a whole host of other like hearted people.  He reminded me of a story he tells that we can be either the daffodil bulb, cold and entombed in the subterranean dark or we can flower above ground, waving our petals in the sun and rain.  So I’m pushing through the soil now, ready to bloom.

If I stay down in the dark, I literally forget who I am. I forget for example, that I’ve written a book of heartfelt Love Letters to Life – one which people have actually read and which touches them. To my surprise yesterday, several people sought me out and told me what my book meant to them…  And, far from being the bulb, it turns out that I was actually the daffodil all along!

Very soon it will be Valentine’s Day and it’s unlikely that there’ll be red roses for me this time, but who knows?  What I do know is that I will be treating myself to a bunch of daffodils – to remind me of who I am and how far I’ve come.

I will finish by wishing you a very Happy Valentine’s Day – whatever your relationship status. Love is a gorgeous, simply complex thing that manifests itself in many forms – and it’s always there if you choose to look for it.

May you always be and see the daffodils…

With lots of love.
Sandie xx
Sandra Peachey – Lifelong Romantic and Daffodil Lover

PS: I currently have a Valentine special offer… You can buy the paperback of my ‘Love Letters to Life’ on Amazon for £11.99 or as a Valentine’s treat you can get it on my website – here for just £7.99 including P&P…

Featured in Psychologies Magazine and The Lady, it was also honoured as a Finalist in the 2015 International Book Awards.  

Making a perfect Valentine gift regardless of your relationship status, the book takes the best posts from this blog, adds new content and wraps it all together in a satisfying structure – that will make you feel the love, entertain and enlighten you.

It’s an easy yet satisfying read, which sees love in everything we do in life – from the big themes to the tiny, trivial minutiae of it too.

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

I’m also variously known as:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-Factor.
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* As being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.

New Years Eve Musings: 2016 to 2017


So it’s New Year’s Eve and it’s time for me to write the past year off… For my eyes only, I’ve written out the highlights of my year out in detail, because I want to let it out, let it go, celebrate and learn from it.

As with most years in the life, it has been mixed.  There has been the good and the bad – the highs and the lows.

To celebrate the good, I give thanks for the following:

  • Times with my brother and my friends – chatting over and chewing the fat of life.
  • For the men who showed a romantic interest in me.  It turns out that despite my inner critic, I am not ‘past it’ in any sense…
  • Celebrating birthdays and special anniversaries with my dear friends.
  • Cooking up a storm.
  • All the pay days.
  • Dancing and singing – sometimes when other people were watching…
  • Growing up with my friend’s children – I am so happy to be ‘aunty’ to the next generation from 3 through to 30 years old.
  • Finding an abandoned kitten, who demanded that I help him, then naming him and seeing him thrive in the home of my dear friends.
  • A friend going through chemotherapy and coming out of the other side – all with warm / wise cracking humour.
  • Reunions with old friends from school and university, with me feeling like I’d finally been picked for the (great) netball team (of life) at long last.
  • Finding romantic love after 6 years of being single (now lost again, which I am so sad about, yet grateful for the experience).
  • To find another child in my life who I could love so easily and feel so protective about.
  • To coach my clients to see and live their glory.
  • To lose myself in my fiction writing – making real progress on my first novel at last.

And there are so many more things / people and occurrences that I am grateful for.  For everything and everyone – thank you, thank you, thank you!

As for all the bad and the broken things throughout this year – I choose to lovingly let them go.

Now I’ve let go and celebrated, it’s time to learn.  My lessons for 2016 are:

  • Spend time with those you hold dear.
  • Do whatever it takes to enjoy the moment you are in – not in some hedonistic / forget about tomorrow vein, but choosing to make the most of all the precious breathing time that you have.
  • Hug as often as you can.
  • Be kind – mainly to yourself.
  • Smile – at strangers, friends, family and in the mirror.
  • Don’t let anger, self-pity or victimisation lead your thoughts.  Choose the principle of ‘the greatest good’ led by love instead.
  • Some of the things that happen in life can mean that we feel pain.  Don’t fight it or try to obliterate it – let it be and work through, not against it.  Keeping living, loving and learning.
  • Move, eat well and drink deep.
  • Choose the things and the people that make you happy and focus on them.  This means in balance that it is easier then to spend time with people who challenge you.  These people can enrich your life with the greatest lessons – what those are, will depend on you.
  • Sometimes you just have to let go.  Do it with grace and empathy.
  • Forgive freely – always starting with yourself.
  • And there are many lessons – they will come to me when I want them.

So farewell to 2016 and welcome to 2017.

With a new year comes resolutions and here are some of mine:

  • To shine a light for others – so they can be the light too.
  • To be more than my body – when it comes to health and nutrition.
  • To finish my first novel and have it published.
  • To keep the faith and be found by my forever significant other.
  • To earn and be blessed with good fortune.
  • To choose, choose and choose – my happiness, health and the greater good.

I will flesh all these out into detailed doings and beings, but for now, that is enough.

So that is today’s cogitations done… It’s time to demarcate the day.  I had made plans to spend the turning of the clock with an old friend and her family.  She’s had a tough holiday period.  Her mother had a stroke several weeks ago and has been in hospital ever since.

My friend called me up yesterday.  What did I think she said, to her going to the hospital and spending what may her mother’s last new year, with her there?  I replied that it was a wonderful idea and that she should follow her heart.  When I put the phone down I felt so proud to have friends like her in my life.  I get to spend time with and celebrate with them constantly.

Like all things in life, how you spend New Years Eve is a choice.  My first plans fell through, for the very best of reasons.  Yet I can make more plans and choose what spirit I bring to this latest tide mark in my life.  My spirit will actually be a chosen cocktail of love, contentment and champagne…

And now it’s time to move on to you the reader – may you celebrate the year behind you and be truly blessed in the year ahead.

With warm regards
Sandra x
Sandra Peachey

For more guidance on how to make resolutions that stick – click here…

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

I’m also variously known as:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-FactorThe perfect Christmas gift – you can buy them both on Amazon (in paperback or Kindle) by clicking on the hyperlinks above or else on most bookseller websites around the globe. Your local bookshop may even sell them, or you can ask them nicely to order them in and stock them high;
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* As being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.

Christmas – outside and in

Christmas warms my pagan bones with Christian joy.

It draws me to the ones I love – near and far; in breath and in spirit.

It concentrates celebration and hence magnifies self pity.

So I choose to gain gratitude and remember my good fortune.

I’m glad for all that I have. Nothing is lost or forgotten.

Thank you to all who keep the wheels of the world turning today.

For those who are lonely – I wave. If you are lost – I send light.

And I absorb all the loving Yuletide joy where ever I shall find it.

Out there and in here – here’s to a Happy Christmas, with love.

Banishing the Christmas Gremlin


I have a gremlin… And he is both constant and transient.  The constant is that I have named him Martrucio and transiently, he takes different forms at different times.  He can be just like a mangy dog, tagging at my heels and tripping me over.  Sometimes he is a dark cloud floating above my head, obfuscating my positive view of the world with his heavy rainy presence.  He manifests in many ways, not least inhabiting my head when I’m vulnerably tired or laid low by life in some way.

Regardless of his form, he is most definitely dogging me, this gremlin of mine. He is having so much evil fun, chipping and smashing and dashing my planned Christmas happiness into multifarious sharp shards of sadness.

What can I tell you – at this time I feel exhausted, and in this state he finds me a particularly easy target. He trips me up; makes me drop and break things; muzzles my memory and somehow, shortens my tolerance and temper.

He gets me this gremlin – he knows that I like to plan and organise and make my Christmas as easy and as stress free as possible. But he is always determined to find a chink in my organised armour and seek to turn it into a long, vicious crack

As usual I’ve planned my Christmas through from start to finish and I know that this includes working around my gremlin.  I know of old, that Gremlins love Christmas – they feed gluttonously off the combined combustible stress of the crescendo to Christmas Day.  Yes, they like nothing better than to shorten tempers and lengthen impatience – it makes them laugh loudly and dance with undisguised glee.

So working up to Christmas I am tired and feeling under the yuletide weather.  My body has had enough of the dark winter and intermittent wassailing.  It’s rebelling – it rejects and reacts to nearly every meal I eat.  I cut back and add in natural nutrients, fruit, vege and supplements, but still this moon maiden swells and doubles up in gastric discomfort.  It’s hardly fair, but such is (my) life and I just have to keep taking care of myself until it passes. I am sure that this too shall most definitely pass.

So I may be tired and even testy, but I’m aware of it and I work with it and make sure I rest and plan – so true to form I have a gorgeous text book time mapped out this coming Christmas tide. I have places to go and friends to hug. Even my tiredness can bear all this activity, if it’s about socialising and fun.

But gremlins don’t relish this and so they gang together to coerce and spoil our best laid plans…

I had it all worked out, months ago. I arranged to meet my two best friends on the Saturday before Christmas. A restaurant table was booked and also tickets bought to go carol singing at a local stately home. The perfect Hallmark girlie Christmas outing…

Well when the day finally dawned, the gremlins I have to say, had gone all out to put the kibosh on our precious night out. I awoke to find my phone riddled with messages: One friend’s mother had had a near fatal stroke and the other’s daughter was very sick and needed to go to hospital too.

“Well we won’t be carol singing tonight then…” I thought.  I know these two gorgeous girlfriends of mine from old and they would of course be worried and needing to take care of their kin.

So I got out of my tired bed and I checked in on each of them – there was nothing I could do to support them at that moment. But then I was left alone with my gremlin.  And in hindsight, I realise that I actually sought his company out.  And sure enough, he soon started to sing to me – not carols, but dirges of woe:

“So you’re alone at Christmas then. No support. No attention. No children. No one’s priority. Parents gone.  No one to care for and no one to care for you…”

I felt sad. My expectations for the perfect Hallmark Christmas experience had disintegrated into ashes, in a matter of mere minutes. Instead of sisterly sharing, I was now solo.

So I wallowed in the murky mud that Martrucio threw at me. It was sticky and dark mud – hard to see through and even harder to wash off.

Yet the Christmas spirit was still inside of me and I changed my gremlin-ated mind and determined to push him aside… My brain ticked over… I wondered if I could share my planned Hallmark experience with someone else.  Yet all of the ‘someone else’s’ in my life were busy on a Saturday so close to Christmas.  Well fair enough – I hadn’t really pinned my hopes on that option any way.

So – what next? “How can this situation be turned on its’ head?” I wondered.

So then it came to me – I would pay my Christmas experience forward…

Quickly I went onto Facebook and with about 3 hours to go, made the following post:

“I have 3 tickets for carol singing at Warwick Castle to give away for the first taker. My free Christmas gift to whoever would enjoy them! Message me if you would like them and are able to collect…”

Very quickly there was a handful of people posting their interest. I just wanted the tickets to be on their way, so as far as I was concerned – fate and the principle of ‘first come, first served’ would decide who they went to.

A little while later there was a knock at my front door.  I grabbed the tickets and opened the door to a bright young woman with a radiant smile. “A very Happy Christmas to you” I said and handed the tickets over. “And to you too,” she said, handing me back a bottle of mulled wine in a festive Christmas bag, “and thank you so much!” As it turned out, she was newly married and she and her husband were now going to have a festive night out – it would be their first Christmas together.

When she left, I looked at her Facebook timeline, which was filled with wedding pictures of a young, smiling and radiant couple.

My sadness had suddenly been replaced by a smile.  I’d done it – I now felt that some good had come out of this strangest of doubly disastrous days.

Instead of warbling carols, my evening was then spent industriously getting the steal on my Christmas preparations, as I sat and wrapped a myriad of presents, accompanied by soppy Christmas films, blaring away in the background.

I checked on my friends again. All was as well as it could be for them. There I was in my own, but giving thanks for my health and happiness – all wrapped up in my wrapping and having a truly festive time.

And as for my gremlin – Martrucio… well – he was nowhere to be seen…

Merry Christmas to me then!

And, dear reader, may your gremlins be banished and your Christmas fill you with love, laughter and light this year…

With warmest wishes,
Sandra Peachey: Blogger and Banisher of Gremlins

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

I’m also variously known as:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-FactorThe perfect Christmas gift – you can buy them both on Amazon (in paperback or Kindle) by clicking on the hyperlinks above or else on most bookseller websites around the globe. Your local bookshop may even sell them, or you can ask them nicely to order them in and stock them high;
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* As being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.

Mid-Life Dating: When Hot Flushes have a whole new meaning…

gift-of-loveMy dear Apostle

Well here we are, in a newish relationship, and me being me, that comes with a mixture of emotions – positive and negative.  Dating in middle age comes with a whole set of intricacies that I never ever envisaged (hot flushes for example, have definitely taken on a whole new meaning) and of course, at least two sets of baggage.

Yet today I’ve decided to transmute baggage into learning, and anxiety into appreciation.

We’ve been together for a short enough time that sometimes it still feels strange, and long enough that somehow it feels like we’ve been an item for our own infinity.

I find myself dwelling on the difficulties that come with our being together (or not as the case may be) and bemoaning them, though I try not to communicate all that to you.  I decide instead to commute it – filtering it away or boiling down it down to sound bites of reasonable requests and latent ideas.  I did choose you after all…

Oh, but sometimes the frustration spills out of me in real time and I get stroppy (I’m blaming the menopause…).  I apologise for that, but also think that some of the barbs I come out with at those terse times are – in my own funny opinion – really hilarious.  They lighten the mood, (the one about the voodoo doll is my personal favourite)…

I often muse that one of the reasons I chose you, is that there are hurdles to climb and that those same hurdles – which drive me crazy at times – also slow me down in a good way.  So for me this means that I don’t ‘run ahead’ – planning and imagining as is my wont, other than in the short term.  It also means that I am practicing patience (which I don’t tend to be very good at) and have chosen to live with what we have, in the present.

So in the present I am pondering all the gifts you come with and here are just a few of them:

  • When we have a real conversation, about life, our histories and any old random stuff.
  • Snuggling.
  • When you hug my friends good bye.
  • The look you gave me at the end of our first date.
  • That you are such a good snogger (halleluiah!).
  • When you take my head in your hands and give me that kiss…
  • When you pull me in for a hug and sigh happily, like it’s the best thing in the whole world.
  • You, me, and the cat, with our feet / paws all lined up on the sofa, in purring harmony.
  • That you wiggle your foot at me in a ‘come closer way’ if I’m sitting too far away from you.
  • Seeing you in Andrex dad mode – soft and strong, all at once.
  • The sense of contentment.
  • That you are a happier person than the one I met a while ago…  I’m taking some of the credit.
  • The ‘night, night’ texts you send when we’re not together.

So I wanted to write an appreciation of you with words that ground me in the positive present and have no expectation beyond this moment of gratitude.  They are a simple celebration of what is.

Thank you.
S xxnight-night

Sandra Peachey – Lover and Writer

If you want to get in touch, you can contact me by clicking here…

I’m also variously known as:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching;
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-FactorYou can buy them both on Amazon (in paperback or Kindle) by clicking on the hyperlinks above or else on most bookseller websites around the globe. Your local bookshop may even sell them, or you can ask them nicely to order them in and stock them high;
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category;
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013;
* As being shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Being nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015.


And in Today’s News: A Long Jumping Goddess

I’m taking time out from National Novel Writing Month to pen my latest ‘Transient Goddess’ Blog. As a such a ditzy and divine creature – I am both blonde and brilliant, whilst being dualistically delightful yet dangerous.  It’s all normally odd and needs some figuring out.  So here goes:  I’m shall confess my daft side and then coach myself to the lightness of understanding and laughter. Thank you for being on this blog page with me…

Transient Seraph.jpg

Being a transient Goddess and all, can be weird…

One the one hand I’m lovable, loquacious, clever, creative and switched on and on the other I am sniffy, accident prone, ditzy, daffy and daft.

Just lately, the whole daftness thing has been getting out of hand… In fact when I got together with one of my oldest friends yesterday, I had so much recent daftness to regale her with, that an update became an updaft

Seriously (or is that hilariously?), it’s getting out of hand lately and it’s getting confusing.  Maybe I just need to sweat it all out somewhere in a home for the menopausally insane until I have passed through the eye of the daft needle into sweet insane old ladyhood.

However, there is no such place for the hormonally instable, so dammit, I’ve just got to work it all out for myself and continue to be middle aged, beautiful, brilliant and DAFT.

But here is my confusion. I am both brilliant and blonde ((made-up) verb not noun).  Let me explain the root of my personality disorder and I will demonstrate, in real (OK blog) time, how I played through both of these scenarios just this very week…

Firstly there I am – sitting in a meeting, in my colourful suit (burgundy dress and long line jacket, actually) – pitching a proposal for work with prospective new corporate clients, in a smart board room somewhere. It’s going well. I know my stuff, I understand what they need and without any preparation or aforethought, I come up with the perfect solution for them.

So I’m sitting on my ‘smug’ perch, surveying the scene at a serene distance. I feel resourceful, got together and well dressed in every sense.  The dressing up part is important to me.  I cannot be doing with not looking the part.  I have to dress like a business goddess as well as act like one.

So, business concluded, I walk out of that building – tall, in my classy high heels.

On another day and in another suit (well, multi-coloured wrap around dress and long line jacket), I have been working away in another office and I want to take a break.  I pull on some boots and go out for a smug walk to clear my head and burn some calories before eating lunch.  It’s in the middle of rural nowhere, but I know my way around and head out confidently to my favourite spot.

It’s a walk along a long abandoned railway track – an absolute idyll of greenery and peace. To get to it, I had to scrabble up a very steep embankment. It took some courage, deep breaths and steely determination, but I’d done it before and there was only ever one way to come back down it – on my arse.  On my ascent this time, for the first time, it was muddy and slippery.  I did not fancy my chances of getting back down in one piece, but somehow, after a few zig zaggy ups and downs, I had made it to the top.  I then surveyed the way I had just climbed, to see scree and mud rolling back down…

‘There has’ I thought, ‘got to be a flatter and safer alternative…’

I walked forwards on the winding flat path. The sun was shining at the zenith of a gorgeous autumn day.  The trees showed off and were shedding their old greenery, now mellow finery, in a stunning blaze of fiery colours.  Their leaves were falling like orange confetti, blowing across my path and crunching under my booted feet. I was ignored by feeding rabbits and busy squirrels; then in the distance a Muntjack deer regarded me cautiously and slowly stalked out of my sight to secret safety.

Basically, if this were a Disney cartoon, right then a cluster of blue birds singing a sweet chirruping tune would be flying ahead, showing me the safe and sane way back down to earth from my train track heaven.

I was on my own though… And I had walked, through all this beucolic beauty, a very long way away from my starting point.

What goes up, must come down though, so at the next bridge I found a way out.  There was no mud, no scree – just a nice defined path wending back the way I needed to find ‘home.’  In my suit and boots I strode confidently along.

That is, until the path turned at a right angle and diverted itself over the hills and far away – in the wrong direction.

Sensibly, I suppose, I could have just turned back, retraced my steps and slid on my arse back down with the scree.  But I had come so far and my arse did not feel like being flayed or my neck broken, so I persevered.

I persevered through shoulder high nettles and brambles. I persevered over and through a wide stream (who knew I could still long jump at my age?). I persevered along the breadth of a barren field until I hit a tall fence, an impenetrable wood and yet another bloody stream.  Tantalisingly Just the other side of the stream, was I knew, a bridle path that would take me back to my erstwhile door… There was no turning back now…

I got down on all fours and commando crawled under trees and shrubbery to get to the fence.  I climbed up and over the alarmingly high fence and having now perfected my long jump skills, flung myself across the second stream – naturally, narrowly missing the bank.  With only slightly wet feet I triumphantly found my path home.  Stopping only to take off my boots, pick the thorns out of my beleaguered feet and then pull my foot ware on again, I quickly limped back.

Having reached my destination and laughing almost hysterically, I took off the boots, only to discover a lithe, wiggly creature, writhing on my toes.  My response was to shriek and to dance it off.  It disappeared out of sight.  Convinced it must have dove for cover between my toes, I headed into the ladies to remove my tights and check to see if it had entered my bloodstream to demonise me forever for my recklessness.  It was nowhere to be seen. My poor legs however, were bitten, stung and scratched… I put my opaque black tights back on, ignoring my ignominious limbs… And as for my elegant long line jacket?  Well it may never be the same again…

I’m not feeling smug right now.  Maybe I could scream though…

Do you see my confusion?  How can I be both a business siren and a bumbling stumbler? And I wish that were the only example of daftery I had to regale my friend with yesterday, but no – it wasn’t.  I had at least 3 other stories in my demonised ‘updaft’.  Maybe I’ll save them for another day / blog…

So what to do about all these daftness? Change my blonde ways? Feel hopeless and stupid?  Castigate and kick myself? I’ve tried all that – and plenty more besides, in the past.  But not yesterday.  Yesterday I told my friend about it and we cringed and we laughed.

I have thought about each instance of daftery and taken a lesson from it.  When it comes to taking the right path, now, unequivocally, I know my way home.  I also know that sometimes it is better to slide on your arse in the mud, than to follow your nose in the wrong direction…

But most of all I know I can be an adventurous, fearless risk taker when circumstances call for it and, as it turns out, quite a good at the long jump.

Ah ha! All part of being a transient goddess then…

Yours divinely and daftly


Sandra Peachey – Transient Goddess, Writer and Long Jumper

You can contact me by clicking here…

I’m also variously known as:
* The Director of LifeWork Consultancy & Coaching
* The Author of Peachey Letters – Love Letters to Life and Co-Author of The F-Factor. You can buy them both at Amazon (in paperback or Kindle) and all good book sites by clicking on the hyperlinks
* A 2015 International Book Awards Finalist, in the Women’s Issues Category
* The Winner of a Women Inspiring Women Award in 2013
* Someone shortlisted for Women’s Coach in the APCTC Awards 2014, also nominated in 2012 & 2013; and
* Nominated for a Networking Mummies National Recognition Award in 2015