This blog is 2 for the ‘price’ of 1. It was all set to get published last week, but when the wifi misbehaved and life got very busy and fun, I've been waiting for a quiet moment.
Seven years ago when Julia and I were flying 1st Class to New York (I KNOW! And I’m forever grateful for that experience) to celebrate our 50th birthdays, one of the cabin crew was hovering nearby, as we were preparing to land, which in 1st Class means sitting up from a reclined position, to semi-reclined and finishing our champagne. Eventually he enquired if I was actually Susanna Reid. Personally I don't see it, she’s much more glamorous than I, but when he smirked and insisted that I was in disguise, I showed my passport to prove that I really am me.
More recently, during a morning walk with Jilly, I encountered a fellow dog walker who wears a hi-viz vest and invites people to chat, but because my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, I’ve yet to make out what is written on his vest. Our dogs were simultaneously sniffing at a previous dog’s territorial marking, so I asked what was on his vest and what he chatted about. He smiled, looked momentarily confused before responding that we had met before. I assured him that although our paths had crossed while walking our dogs, we were yet to chat, but as I am often mistaken for someone’s auntie’s cousin’s niece’s sister’s friend’s mum, I could forgive his mistake.
Having ‘that kind of face’ is also a bonus. On Tuesday 2nd August I enquired at the library about the availability of one of their rooms for a bereavement group, and the friendly librarian said,
“It’s Charli, isn’t it? I’ve seen your picture on the NBCCC leaflets, and we did the First Aid Mental Health course together.”
I was chuffed by this, not because I want to be easily recognisable, but because a connection had been established and with it warmth and empathy.
On Wednesday 3rd August, another familiar face presented itself to me at the North Bewick community centre. The extremely helpful janitor looked familiar, but took me by surprise when he said,
“I think we’ve met before”. When I asked which school he had attended and the dates, it tied in with my time at Preston Lodge High School. Furthermore, after the NBCCC meeting had concluded, and he was helping us clear up, he asked a few more questions before ascertaining that my role as acting guidance teacher had been pivotal in his move from one school to another. He apologised, looking bashful and admitted,
“I’m sorry that my attendance wasn’t brilliant, but your intervention literally saved my life.”
We swapped email addresses and I will be following up with an offer for mentoring (always pro bono for former pupils), because he indicated he wants to pursue further study into etymology.
There he was, all grown up, with a job, a flat and a car, thanking me for doing a job which, for the most part, I loved. As teachers we all hope that we make a difference to at least one young person, and this year I have had 3 young people contact me out of the blue to tell me about new jobs, college graduations and what they plan to do next.
At the end of the NBCCC safeguarding meeting on Wednesday 8th August, I was thanked for my tenacity, determination and good grace for navigating a complicated charitable committee structure that puts me in mind of Shroeder’s Stairs. However, I now feel that I am no longer walking along blind alleys, trying to make sense of who’s who and what’s what, but rather, standing shoulder to shoulder with colleagues who have the best intentions with a collegiate desire to achieve recruitment and retention of wonderful volunteers, who in turn will stem the flow of isolation, mobilising uncertain and frightened members of our fabulous community to connect with each other.
Last year when I was pouring my heart and soul into all things Linkedin, Instagram and Twitter, I soon realised that it really didn’t matter if it was raining, and the droplets were falling off my nose, whether I had make-up on or not, what mattered was how I showed up, what I had to say and the authentic way I delivered my content.
This year I have found my rhythm. I am embracing changes in my work life, my home and my family which will require a new role for me, in February, as a grandmother, and there is no doubting that my grandchild will get the very best of me.
On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday this week, I co-facilitated Columba 1400 Values Based Leadership Academy with Helensburgh and Lomond Young Carers. It was a wee trip down memory lane for me, having lived in the area until I was 18 years old, and, as well as savouring every moment of the young people’s leadership journey, I succeeded in having 2 swims in Loch Lomond and catching up with friends.
This was my 4th freelance opportunity with Columba 1400 this year, and as we were packing up after the commencement ceremony, the lead facilitator said “It’s really nice to put a face to the name - I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”
On Friday morning, I attended the official opening of Our Community Garden in Haddington by Lord Lieutenant for East Lothian, Roderick Urquhart. Establishing a school garden which can survive the long summer holidays is always a challenge, and our previous attempts had been thwarted by vandals, weather and lack of attention. However, after a chance conversation with the formidable Elaine Gale who established Our Community Kitchen, our vision has become a reality, and the local community and schools are all making excellent use of this resource. I was proud and honoured to have been mentioned in the Lord Lieutenant’s speech and to see the incredible work which has turned a dull tarmac area into an inviting and inclusive community garden.
As Fringe By The Sea draws to a close this evening, I reflect on how much I have loved wandering around the village, bumping into old friends and former colleagues, and making new chums while waiting for shows to commence. By reducing my carbon footprint i.e. my former commute to work, and focusing on my local community, the connections I'm making are enlightening, engaging, fun and appeal to the very heart of the person I have become.
During my recent stay in Garelochhead I went in search of the grave of a young girl, Michelle, who was tragically killed while crossing the road to the children's home she lived in. Mine was the last hand she held, before wriggling free and making a bolt for the staff to show off her excellent end of term report. Although I didn't find her grave, I spoke to the wind and let her know that she is held safely in my heart. I passed The Ardencaple Hotel where, much to my chagrin, I drank too much, smoked a little weed, and exposed myself to some unsavoury and unhealthy associations. The reason for numbing through self medication, was the impact from sordid behaviour of some men living in fine houses who abused their positions by sexually assaulting me. These men were so called (and very lecherous) 'family friends' including a doctor, army officer and naval officer.
However, I drove past with a certain smile on my face, knowing that I have come a long way since then, and with it acceptance and acknowledgement that I was in no way not to blame, and it really shouldn't have happened to me. While I know I am not alone in working through childhood trauma, put quite simply my message is this: if you are willing to accept change, choose to endeavour to be the best version of yourself, take advice and support where you can, then you can move on and carve out a life that is filled with happy instances, moments of serendipity and peace.
If you require mental health crisis support services:
NHS 24: telephone 111
Breathing Space: 0800 83 85 87
Samaritans: 116 123 or email jo@samaritans.org
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