Exiting times

I’m about to take a huge leap of faith. Let go of my job with the NHS to become self employed.

I’ve had thirteen fabulous years working in community mental health and I can genuinely say I’ve loved it.

It’s a huge decision but I can’t do two jobs

The retreat is almost back on it’s feet after the flood my beautiful healing hive cabin is a few months away from being completed. So it really is decision time.

I know it’s the right choice but letting go of what’s old and familiar to do something new is exiting but a little bit scary and not having that guaranteed pay slip at end of the month is the scary bit!

But I’ve put it out there to the universe and when my manager asked about my case load capacity last week I told him I was planning to leave.

He was a little shocked reminding me he needs a months notice at least but as soon as I’d actually said it I felt better quite empowered.

So it’s out there!

I feel like the fool card in tarot standing on the edge of the mountain all his possessions in his back pack preparing to step out into the world as the sun rises his dog at his heels (in my case a couple of cats!)

So I’m holding out my hands trusting the universe visualising good and positive change.

Here’s to exiting times ♥️

My reason to breathe.

Standing at a bus stop with my eight week old baby daughter strapped to me in a baby harness.

I turned to see an old lady gazing at my baby.

She spoke quietly as if she might wake her

Precious beautiful baby, she is an empty vessel be careful what the world puts into her. She pushed fifty pence piece against her tiny hand.

Custom to gift a new baby a silver coin. I thanked her and smiled. It was 1983 I was just eighteen and that was the first bit of wise advise I was given as a new young mum.

I don’t think any of us realise just how fast our children will grow. I know I didn’t.

I lived alone in a tiny bedsit. It was far from ideal but I’d wanted my baby and I was doing the best I knew how. With very little help. I never left her. Ever.

Well not until she was three years old. Time for nursery Not even when my second child was born I had him at home because I couldn’t leave my daughter.

There isn’t a guide book is there. A what to do when you’ve fed, changed, winded and they are still crying, or a number for Mary Poppins when your bedsit is on the ground floor and toilet is upstairs and the baby is asleep. Or your I’ll or you and kids both have a bug and there is no one to help.

Or there is too much week at the end of your money.

I remember sometimes thinking it will be easier when they are older.

It’s never easier as a parent you just worry about different things

If your getting it right.

I think everyone wings it occasionally. I know I did.

I look back now they are all grown up and I’m so proud of them all.

Every new grand child brings joy more love and reminders of my babies and the old lady at the bus stop.

She was so right precious and beautiful and so important what we allow the world to put into them.

Even more so now. Social media and mobile phones technology.

Milestones flashing by, rolling over, sitting up, swimming under water, sleeping all night.

I remember that joy of more than a few hours sleep.

It was hard work being a single mum.

But the best thing I ever chose to do.

My only complaint is it went far too fast.

I still worry about them now they are grown with children of their own.

But I’d do it all again in a heart beat.