53 days of summer 

This morning I woke up knowing I have nowhere I must be and nothing I must do. Today I am a free women – for 53 days. 53 days of summer (roll credits).

I start my graduate scheme in September, leaving me with 53 glorious days to myself. This is the first year in six years when I am in this position. Since college I have filled my summers with internships, volunteering roles, holidays abroad and/or work. But this year I have enough money saved up to last me two months of being purely idle – pure bliss.

That is until I realise this is the first year in six years when I am in this position. And I remember why that is the case. I do not enjoy doing nothing. Through all the stress of overworking and taking on more than I can handle, my mind is at peace. I have a purpose and I feel like I am moving forward. I need to feel like I am moving forward. Continue reading

Giving too much

I give too much of myself.

I give up too much of time – checking emails whilst in bed, writing press releases on the train, meetings during the day, attending events during the evening and planning my own late into the night. I take on new projects others have little time for. And I mentor those who care, helping them focus their energy.

I give up too much of my love – continuing to help even when they’ve turned away before, remembering to forgive and give ‘just one more chance, just this last time – I promise‘. I prioritise the feelings and happiness of others above my own. And I will put myself on the line for the people and causes I care about.  Continue reading

The passing of time

Me: All the time. Source

My first concept of the passing of time begins in year four. Our classroom had a blackboard and on the top right hand corner my teacher wrote the day, date, month and year in pretty yellow chalk. Every day she would change the day and date. I would notice how the month would change after some passing of time. But I remember impatiently waiting for the year to change. It remained 1998 day after day and I even asked her when she would change it.

Time past by so slowly then.

I remember the day she finally changed the numbers at the end. 1999. I was so excited and relieved. Finally!

Time passes so differently now that I know how many months make up the year and how many days make up those months and how many hours in that day. Now, rather than waiting for time to pass I try and make it stop. So much of my time is spent worrying about how little time I have – the upcoming deadlines, the forgotten projects, the pile of books I’ve not yet explored.

Continue reading