So I’ve just settled in for my first coffee of the day and happened to stumble across this little gem…. http://vimeo.com/26454176 Sitting in the office, with a whole lot of work to do and not a lot of it getting done I am utterly immersed in this video, immediately captured by the life and travels of the Goodwins. With wide angle shots of endless oceans, hues of blue and splashes of green merge between images of awesome valleys and boys in boardies. I’m just not made for an office. The Goodwins are a fresh faced, blonde and infuriatingly bronzed family who have recently embarked on a yearlong trip around the world embracing cultures all the way from Israel to Iceland. With two little ones on the road with them, Given, 3 and True, 1, the family are embracing the land and sea as their very own classroom, in which they will learn a great deal more than they would in any Maths class. I was rambling recently about my dream to one day set off on an adventure around the world, family in tow, and this expedition could not be more inspiring. So as I sit biting my lip, I take a deep breath, repeat my life mantra and secretly begin planning my very own world tour. Float through life, don’t sink.

After a weekend of late nights and lazy mornings I’m less than enthused about an 8:00 start this morning. I’ll be honest I’m in no mood for idle chit chat and as I try my hardest to drown out the noise of generic office conversation I sip at my now chilled coffee in an attempt to keep my eye lids from meeting and slipping into a sleepy state. Folding paper and packing boxes is on the agenda today, oh joy! I’ve gone from excitedly pumping up kites on the beach to sitting in front of a chipboard desk, surrounded by endless reams of paper, most of which I’ve used for doodling rather than making notes. I never thought I would say this but I actually miss my mornings with Jeremy Kyle, what a way to start the day hey?! Lounging on the sofa, knocking back a nice big bowl of granola whilst watching toothless gypsy folk battling over which one of them bonked their cousin and then stole their Argos 14kt gold hoop earrings….bliss if you ask me! For now I’ll just have to accept that the ever increasing pile of returns that’s leaning precariously over my right shoulder can no longer be openly ignored and will at some point have to be sorted. Shame. So I’ll grab another coffee, have a wee break and at some point tackle my ‘to do’ list. Fortunately number one on my list is ‘stare blankly into the computer screen dreaming of American road trips’ followed by ‘shuffle paper and look busy’ before hastily returning to ‘make imaginary plan of route for said American road trip’. Happy Monday morning folks!

Couldn’t be in a better mood this morning, the sun is shining the normally dull Radio 6 is playing some absolute bangers and I’ve just been treated to a little baby yoga show from my boss’s son Soya. So I woke up pretty early today, naturally, with the sun bursting through the bay windows. The best way to wake up I think. After cleansing my chakras, I threw on my leopard print trousers, tumbled clumsily down the stairs and chowed down on some fruit and fibre, mostly fibre much to my dismay! A simple start to the day perhaps but I’m a simple soul, not simple in a special rainbow bus kind of way, although my boyfriend might disagree there! But simple in the way that as long as I have fresh air first thing in the morning accompanied preferably by a few rays I’m generally a happy little lady. I have recently made a promise to myself that despite the restrictions of a full time job, next year I will travel more. Too many people spend their lives working and worrying about how the next e-mail could potentially affect their future ten years down the line. Getting caught up in work is, to me, the dullest thing that could happen in life; don’t get me wrong I’m keen to get wrapped up in a vocation but a job….a day to day job….no thanks. Perhaps that is where my fascination with Buddhism comes in, not a religion but a way of life, no restrictions simply guidelines…. I remember one evening in Sri Lanka. After a lengthy trek up an intimidatingly large….rock, for want of a better word, we stumbled across a sun bleached Buddhist monastery. Although visiting times had come to an end and the early evening breeze had begun to dance amongst the various streams of prayer flags, our guide managed to sneak us in to have a wander around. Greeted by an orange-clad, balding and considerably well fed Buddhist monk we were left to wander at our will around both the temple and its uneven courtyard. Whilst my family appreciate the intricate carvings and delicate detail of the monastery doors, I stand alone at the edge of the courtyard looking out across the vast valley that lies before me. It is easy to feel both spiritual and emotional in a place of such natural beauty and I think to myself that perhaps if this had been a Christian settlement the view might be overlooked by an, at times, unhealthy obsession with the big fella that lives in the clouds. It’s all about balance. I place my hands on the wall separating me and a particularly tummy turning drop, listening to the haunting but oddly comforting chants that travel on the breeze from the mouths of meditating monks. Perhaps this snapshot in time was my inspiration to take part in my recently completed Reiki course, or my decision to take life less seriously. What exactly this moment encouraged I’m not entirely certain, however I do know that at that time, in that space, surrounded by that overwhelming natural beauty a great deal of weight was lifted from my upsettingly distressed young shoulders. Without any words of wisdom or drawn-out lectures I was able to envisage a path for myself, a path to a healthier and happier life. So if you’re caught up in New York Fashion week, do me a favour put down those diet pills, take that cotton wool ball away from your mouth and realise that life really is too precious to waste on weight-loss and staring in the mirror. Have a bleddy wonderful day everyone….it’s Friday!!

So it almost feels like autumn is rolling in. I know its bleddy sweltering outside today but my early morning walks to work offer me a glimpse of the cosy season that I am so much in love with. I left super early this Monday morning and couldn’t help but feel a burst of happiness as the sun rubbed his eyes and peered sleepily over the rooftops almost ready to begin a new day. The fog hung delicately in the air from the night before, reluctant to leave and keen to greet the early morning commuters on their journey to work. Not like the ominous fog of the evening, I like to imagine the fog at dawn to be the cashmere blanket to the outside world, cosy but not restricting as it releases its embrace from the night before to reveal a bright and rested world. The air was so fresh and crisp as it passed my lips with every breath, cooling my already warming limbs as I trek up the not so forgiving hill on yet another expedition to the office. I listen to my i-Pod when I walk, not so much for the music but more for the encouragement that those rhythmic beats give my feet. I like to think that Beyonce is right there with me as my thighs begin to burn in defiance, not yet fully awake from their slumber and unhappy to be disturbed at such an early hour. This particular morning the first song to be dealt from the mechanical music shuffle was an old Arabic track that I downloaded shortly after an excursion to Jordan. I am immediately transported to an Arabic land. I imagine myself walking through early morning markets, replacing the Vauxhall Corsa’s for donkey carts and the noisy traffic horns for the shouts of small Arabic gentlemen excitedly offering their wares to passers-by. I feel the sun begin to gaze upon my skin and for a moment as I wait for the little man to change from red to green I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath. I am fully aware that as my mouth forms into a grin and I stand wearing my embarrassingly fluorescent orange top that the traffic around me is keen to speed away from the local nut job smiling to herself at seven o clock in the morning, tripping over flat pavements and struggling with an over-sized rucksack. However in my state of meditation, frankly I couldn’t care less. I’ve gone from Beyonce in Bournemouth to Jahara in Jordan in less than five minutes and thanks to my ability to transport my mind to distant lands I’m more than ready to tackle a Monday. I have always had an over active imagination and I take great pleasure in being able to disappear into a world far away from my actual location, dreaming of new cultures and un-touched spaces to explore. So if you get a few minutes to yourself today, close your eyes and let yourself fall in to a dream-like state, follow a make-believe path to your favourite place and release your mind from the mundane worries and stresses that day to day life can sometimes bring.

The idea of waking up late and strolling out for breakfast couldn’t be more appealing this week. With a more than mundane week at work, for a change, I’m really struggling to get my head around where I want to be right now. So I can’t think of anything that would sort me out more than a cheeky breakfast in a coastal café, with company or even alone. I should take more time to write so as not to let my brain turn entirely to mush as a result of this exceptionally humdrum job that I have managed to fall in to, so this weekend I plan to take time to sit, drink coffee and write. Excited! I will have scrambled egg whites on rye bread accompanied by a rocket salad dressed with a dusting of cayenne pepper to wake me up before I embark on my literary adventure. I’ve always thought going out for breakfast was particularly sophisticated, particularly in Paris. Uuuuurgh if there was a job that required me to travel to every country to test their breakfast cuisine and write about it I would be one happy lady, unfortunately I fear that may be a somewhat unrealistic job description. Recently someone asked me what my passion was and being someone who favours a response that involves ink and paper I struggled to reply with a coherent answer. I’m a bit of a worrier as it turns out, and at this time whilst I’m an extremely happy soul I can’t help but let a little worry into my heart and mind. My main worry at this time, just because it makes me feel better to write about it, is not being passionate enough or to be more precise not having a specific passion for something. I feel incredibly embarrassed when people ask me what my hobbies are, especially in these parts where everyone’s past times seem to involve death defying stunts and extreme sports….my response always seems inadequate….I like to write….how lame does that sound? Maybe I’m worrying too much, maybe I should stop worrying so much and write a little more…. Anyway enough of all that drivel, if any of you lot hear about a job vacancy that requires a bare foot wanderer who can’t resist a good bit of brekkie think of me. Peace.

Lying on the grass underneath the vastness of an aquamarine sky, the prodding and poking of aging shoots are sharp against the skin but do little other than irritate the shoulders and elbows. After a weekend of jubilant activity more often than not fuelled by the local beverage of choice, Perry’s, time is taken to relax and recuperate. There is something about the smell of summer, in particular the opening hours of each day. I like to think of this as the freshest time, unpolluted by the day’s events the air smells cleaner and the atmosphere is lighter. Like a blank canvas the morning exposes itself to the world ready to take on every challenge that is thrown towards it. With all this warm weather I can’t help dreaming of summer holidays, long haul flights, open beaches, untouched jungles just asking to be explored and cultures to learn from. Even supermarkets smell more exotic when the sun is shining in a foreign land; you feel a twinge of excitement at the prospect of entering unknown territory filled with alien foods, cereals that you don’t recognise and endless rows of luminous bubblegum that even at the age of 22 are appealing. I myself am more partial to a local market, one that holds a particularly prized place in my memory was a huge weekend food bonanza in Mombasa. We ventured from our hotel against the advice of every member of staff and amongst discerning glances from other hotel guests, but none the less with rucksacks strapped on and a limited knowledge of Swahili we left the safety of the hotel compound and entered ourselves in to a much more exhilarating experience. Snapping away with my camera I tried to capture every face, every scent, every colour and every texture that I could. I was however warned that whilst in England we run for gold in Kenya some of the more rebellious locals prefer to grab the gold and then run and so with the help of my scarf and a strategically placed rucksack, I began a more subtle approach to photography refusing not to carry with me a thousand images and memories of a place where I couldn’t of felt more at home. Whilst I could ramble on about my travels all day I’m going to have to end it there otherwise I’ll be too tempted to book a flight straight back to Nairobi. For now I will continue to spend my days at work dreaming up Cuban expeditions.

So I’m very much missing London town at the moment and whilst it’s lovely down here in Dorset I feel like I’m missing out on all my beautiful friends and family. It is beautiful here in the summer, with everyone travelling around in their VW transporters, dread locks flowing in the wind and surf boards at the ready. Whilst I wish the sun would stick around forever and a day I’m very much aware that it won’t and soon the dark evenings will roll in, the clouds with thicken in an ominous shade of grey and the surfers will fly south for the winter to warmer regions. I can’t help imagining myself in London at Christmas time, toggled up in a cosy duffle coat, battling against the elements and the late night shopping pavement traffic making my way home from work. I am a country girl at heart which is perhaps why I miss my family home so much, tucked away in a secret village in Essex, surrounded by rolling hills and idyllic woodland walks. However at the age I am now I feel that the hustle and bustle of London life might just excite my senses, enhance my social life and even better encourage me to write more. I sit and flick through house and home magazines, optimistically and perhaps unrealistically picking out expensive artefacts with which I decorate my imaginary living room, bathroom and bedroom. I cannot wait to have my own space, with enough candles to light every Sunday service in every church in Rome. Bright blankets will decorate my untouched wooden floors and picture frames will adorn my bare brick walls. Ooooooh one day....soon I hope. For now I will enjoy my summer in Dorset and dream of Christmas shopping at Liberty’s, late night drinks with friends in Soho and early morning runs in St.James’s park. Oh and I’m going to bake more.