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Dawn Barclay

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Moxie Living: Courage and Confidence

All blog post Moxie Living

In a World of Pure Imagination

October 8 Dawn

Where did you spend your time as a child? I spent a lot of time in my room. Our room. My sister and I shared.

The room was a stage, a dance school, a library, an artists loft, a recording studio. It was even an indoor tennis court before my parents banned that usage.

Like many beautiful grand old buildings it eventually fell into a state of disrepair. People stopped visiting.

In it’s heyday it was full of energy, passion, wonder, curiosity and excitement. Minutes after I moved out it’s true owners moved in and began to renovate. Furnishings were boxed, stored or binned.

The room became a bedroom. One purpose only.

Today I have many rooms, but none like that one. They are kept clean and orderly. They aren’t often used for a different purpose.

Creating Room To …

I believe we all need a room or even just some room.

The room doesn’t have to be a physical space, but it has to be spacious.

Spacious enough to play around with ideas. Room enough to breathe, imagine, play out new thoughts.

In the non-physical space (your mind), you can do whatever you want in the room, you don’t need to let anyone in to see what you are doing or what your up to. It’s secret. It’s safe. It’s just for you.

To allow the room, you may have to clear a little of what’s been dumped there aside. Not much. Just a space where you aren’t keeping any garbage.

Try this: 

Take 30 minutes sometime this week. 30 minutes? Heck, 20 minutes then. Take something for you. You’re going to furnish your room. You’ll need some physical space so nip to a favourite spot, or lock yourself in the toilet if it’s easier. You can write or you can think.

If writing, don’t edit. That’s one rule.

Start every thought with, “In my room…,” and then go for it. Just let your thoughts guide you. If you find yourself wandering come back to the opening, “In my room…,” or if you are fighting to stay put for 30 minutes go for the other side and start with, “In my room I don’t want…”.

Let your mind take over. Instead of spending longer than 20 minutes a day coming up with excuses and reasons why you can’t create what you want to create, you always have the room and space in your mind to create whatever you want.

If your brain does not know the difference between what is a real experience and what is imagined, in this little exercise your creating new paths to the room you long to create.

Jump to it. 20 minutes. (And another 20 every week if you can manage it!)

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Photo Credit: Imagination Archann on Deviant Art

 

Start Over and Repeat.

October 8 Dawn


Every week — sometimes a couple of times a week. When I login to this website, I click on create new post and I’m always faced with a blank screen.

Every week — sometimes a couple of times a week: I must start over as there is no alternative.

When faced with the blank screen I’m taken over with that other version of me. The one who edits, deletes, and rips everything apart.

I had an epiphany moment 53 minutes ago while … making a brew.

‘Aint life like creating new blog posts.

Huh?

As we haven’t experienced this moment before, we are continually starting over.

So what if I’ve written over 200 posts in here and that I’ve lived 15,165 days : there is nothing to say I can’t live my 15,166th in an entirely different way.

By the time I make my next coffee, in about 15 minutes, there is nothing to say I cannot make it in an entirely different way than what I made the last.

Nothing.

Tomorrow when you wake up, image you are logging in to life, and you are faced with a blank page.

What do you have to say?

In life no edit button exists and we’re hitting publish every moment.

What do you need to get down?

What (if you could) go back over and read over your day and moments?

How do you feel as you read over what you wrote yesterday?

And if you have just scrolled down, this next part is the bones …

What you create is all down to you. All of it. You can create new pages. Start over. Repeat.

Because there is nothing to say that the page you are creating now is the page you must continue on. Nothing.

You. Just You. Decides the content.

Start over. Repeat. Wonderful.

When you feel that you have reached the end and that you cannot go one step further, when life seems to be drained of all purpose: what a wonderful opportunity to start all over again, to turn over a new page. Eileen Caddy

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When Was the Last Time, You Did Something for the First Time?

September 25 Dawn

I opened this book last night.

It deserves (I believe) to be in all the Top 100 best books of our times lists.

I realise if you were forced to read it in High School because you live in the US you might think differently, and hate the darn book.

In the UK we’re forced to read E. B. White’s Charlotte’s Web, or Charlie Orwell’s 1984.

(Aside: Charlotte’s Web is where childhood ends for us Scots. Cruel book. Cruel. Poor Spider. And I have come to the conclusion all child readers of Charlotte’s Web don’t kill spiders as adults. It always feels wrong, as if we’re murdering a member of Charlotte’s family. No matter how huge and scary it is.)

The Smelly Old Book

My copy of On The Road has an odour of second-hand book shops, it won’t be long before the smell will overpower the words and make it unreadable.

Inside the cover written in pencil, in the usual spot up on the right hand corner where second hand owners obviously are taught to put the price it says $2.00.

If the stinky book were lucky enough to ever get a new owner they will read when they open the front cover a message in blue faded ink:

To Kipper Barclay, calm down a bit. Remember Jim’s knicker parties and tell the story with pride. Kiss. Kiss. Ciao. Matte

A story within a story. One line.

I never tell the story, however my friend Matte does, all the time.

It’s his I know something about Dawn story.

It’s his bonding story to friends of mine he’s meeting for the first time.

That story has crossed oceans.

And it’s grown in the past 17 years, like my love for him.

I let him share it, he loves to tell it.

When he relives the moment, I’m feeling what I felt the months spent on the road with him and my other friend and travel buddy.

I type here. Now. Happy.

Being Open to the Unfamiliar

I read On the Road for the first while travelling in America, what a cliché, huh? A book about exploring self through the highways and cities of America, while exploring myself travelling the highway and cities of America. Commence rolling of eyes…now.

I know the core of that trip was the openness I had to new experiences. It was one big curious awesome experiment.

How open are you to the new?

On that road trip there was no convention, no rules, no familiarity, no permission needing granted, the daily routine was having no routine, we took risks.

There are parts of that trip I wish to always remember:

  • The conversation (three swear words, one from each of us) as we walked up to the Grand Canyon for the first time. US 0f A’ers, that is one mighty big hole in the ground you have there.
  • Running through the The Art Institute in Chicago to sit in front of my favourite painting (which I never thought two years previous I would ever see), for the first time.
  • The unfortunate incident on the bus from Detroit: personal safety at risk, for the first time.
  • Almost drowning in the Pacific: a life is precious wake up call, for the first time.

Many little stories within the big story.

In the daily routine new experiences don’t appear to happen that often.

But I think that’s wrong. Is the routine making us to busy to notice?

What if it was part of your daily routine were to have new experiences?

What if you approached everything for the first time? Or last time?

  • How would you say goodbye?
  • How would you greet loved ones?
  • How would you say goodnight to those who matter most?
  • How would you hug your loved ones?
  • What would you want to say?
  • How would you enter your work tomorrow?
  • What would you create next?

Isn’t life all one line stories written within the big story? Isn’t life remembered by the events that made you feel?

When I think of that trip, I don’t remember the buses we boarded, the trains we caught, the places where we stayed, I remember the feeling of experiencing something for the first time. I can recall the feelings in a heart beat. Like opening the book last night and reading that line.

Nobody needs to travel somewhere to experience life with no convention, no rules, no permission.

They need to go inwards. Not out.

What would happen if you approached each moment as if it were the first time?

What if you ditched routine (even for a day) and lived each moment for the last time?

Stay connected:

1. Sign up here for updates and other goodies delivered to your inbox + get the goodies.

2. Join the facebook page for courageous and brave peeps. Dawn xxx

 

5 Quick Learning Tips Gleamed from Being a Student ‘Knitter’

September 25 Dawn

Knitting.

Do you? Don’t you?

I don’t. But I’m learning.

My chosen teacher is the lovely lady who works in the shop two doors up.

On making my decision to pick a teacher. She was the right person to ask.

Highly experienced and I know she is capable of great things.

She has shown me shawls and tiny jumpers she makes for teeny people (commonly known as babies) who really won’t appreciate the hours she puts in, but at least they have handcrafted good to dribble glop. on

#1 Pick the right instructor…

I could’ve asked my mum, my Granny taught her. However, she wasn’t the right person for this experiment.

My mum likes to knit, but she’ll admit she’s not passionate about it, unlike my current Knitting Master.

It’s become a family joke when my Mum says, ‘”I can knit you that” as I look at a jumper while shopping, or “I’ll run it up on the sewing machine for you”, hilarity follows because she has an item belonging to each member of the Barclay clan who are still waiting on it stuff being ‘run up’, some from 1982!

So, I had to be sure that my knitting instructor was committed to the learner.

#2 When choosing the right instructor ensure they practice what they preach

In her defence my mum has knitted a few classic … um … pieces over the years.

I remember one Christmas she went on a knitting frenzy.

Every child under 3ft tall got a Barclay Classic Piece of Luxury Knitwear.

She called them hats and scarves.

Debatable.

This is the closest picture I could find to one of these pieces (not me):

One word. Wrong.

The small village where we lived were over run with Children of the Knit-One, Purl-One that winter.

If Harry Potter had been a knitter and not a wizard, our village was Hat-warts.

It must’ve looked really odd to village outsiders, 20+ children all in the same gear wandering the streets. In fact, it must’ve been really fecking scary. Have you seen the Wicker Man? This was pretty similar, except with wool.

Anyhoo, learning to knit.

It’s going really badly. I suck at knitting. And I’m finding it tediously boring.

A great teacher inspires.

#3 Apply your learning anywhere you can

Although, I’ll confess the implements required for knitting (known as needles … I’m teasing!) were great at unblocking  the kitchen sink on Saturday. Reaching parts of the drain that the fondue sticks never have.

However…

#4 Set yourself learning goals

I shall continue until the 31st December*. That’s my date for evaluating my new not-a-passion-yet-hobby-thing.

I’ll decide then if it will be continued or ceased.

Why on earth am I carrying on with something that I:

  1. Can’t do.
  2. Is boring.
  3. Is painfully slow.

Because.

  1. I can’t do it, yet.
  2. It’s boring, right now.
  3. It’s painfully slow, at present.

The desire to say, ‘I made that‘ is greater than the excuses I’m thinking of using for quitting.

Like everything really.

#5 Perspire and Persist

When you feel like quitting, ask yourself why you started.

If you can still connect to the ‘why’ – sweat it out and keep going. If you can’t, it’s time for crochet or origami!

Me? I can’t wait to give my mum her present.:-) Hiya Mum!

*Update: I didn’t continue, this was written in 2012. But Jan 2015 I’m trying again.

That Girl You Used to Know

September 11 Dawn

 
Art Credit: Tassa Bitsanni on Pitify
 

“Dreams are renewable. No matter what our age or condition, there are still untapped possibilities within us and new beauty waiting to be born.” – Dr. Dale E. Turner

You didn’t want to just settle.

Who knows how it happened. It just did.

At what point to did you make that bed and lie down in it?

When did you decide to sink and submerge into a life that you never planned for?

Like many other women, who’s so-called truth did you believe that at some time, ‘you’ll have to settle down and make a life for yourself’? What were you doing before, not living?!

No, that’s not true.

Some nights do you wake at 3am, unable to sleep do you get up, keeping silent so as not to disturb anyone else, do you make yourself a drink and find yourself alone talking to the girl that used to know?

A picture keeps appearing before you.

You’ve seen it before, it comes often in these moments when you are asking in the darkness ‘is this it?’, or ‘where have I gone?’ but it’s so foggy and unclear, you’re not sure if it’s an actual memory belonging to you.

Do you really want to look back on your life and see how wonderful it could have been had you not been afraid to live it? – Caroline Myss.

In the frame you can see a girl: she looks like you, she speaks like you and she’s begging you to remember her.

She reminds you of the dreams you once swore to live, the aspirations that nobody or anything were going to get in the way of you creating and the passions you once had and spoke about for endless hours.

She begs you to take another look at the picture, to stop just settling and remember the you that you used to be and the world that was available to you is still open for you, if you want it.

She wants you to know it’s possible to retrieve part of what it is to be you without wrecking all that you’ve built up.

You want to pay attention to her but you also think she has no right reminding you.

You question and fight her, telling her that those times and that person are in the past, this is who you are now, you made your choices, you decided on the paths taken.

She leaves, only just to return another night when you are quiet enough to hear her, another day when you are questioning, another moment when you are totally aware of yourself.

She won’t leave. She can’t. She only wants you to remember. To give her some thought every now and then. She knows you are different to her. She doesn’t want you to go back and be her. She just wants you to hang out with her every now and then.

She makes you cry, often. Days, months, years have passed since you last allowed her to be truly free.

And sometimes that hurts. Really hurts. Because free is what you crave. You have no desire to turn your back on the responsibilities you love, that’s not the freedom you really want, the freedom to be you does not have to come at a price.

Some nights you think need to contain that girl. If you didn’t who knows what might happen. You don’t want to be rocking any boats:

Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.

I won’t do any better, so I’ll stick with what I know.

I might not make it, so I won’t start.

Better not to risk and look foolish.

Anything is better than nothing.

When she knew you well, you didn’t say these words.

It’s been such a long time since she heard you really laugh.

“Don’t live down to expectations. Go out there and do something remarkable.” – Wendy Wasserstein

She knows that you have been bending to accommodate others. She knows that you had to modify your behaviour and adjust to the roles you willing accepted and the responsibilities that became yours, but she can see the price that this has cost you.

Some days, she’s there when you look in the mirror and her worst fear is that sometime in the future when you look she won’t be there,  the sparkle will be gone completely, and all that is left is regret behind the eyes.

She knows you are lost. She knows.

She is the one who can remind you of all of the possibilities and opportunities. She wants you to experience life like how you used to show her life was to be experienced: curious, enquiring, new and fresh.

Live with intention.
Walk to the edge.
Listen hard.
Practice wellness.
Play with abandon.
Laugh.
Choose with no regret.
Appreciate your friends.
Continue to learn.
Do what you love.
Live as if this is all there is.

Mary Anne Radmacher

She’s not asking you to give anything else up, not if you don’t want to, all she’s asking is for you to remember her once in a while and let her out to play.

“The strength of a woman is not measured by the impact that all her hardships in life have had on her; but the strength of a woman is measured by the extent of her refusal to allow those hardships to dictate her and who she becomes.”

Lots of love,

How to Embrace Your Inner Fool

August 31 Dawn

There will be times when you make mistakes that matter, it’s probably best you admit responsibility sooner rather than later for these whoopsicals.

I’ll go first…

I’m sorry that if you signed up for the confidence course on Sat/Sun you got sent to a duff page on the website. I was updating the course and forget to hit save. I think I’ve sorted everyone out now. Have I?

Or like the time I dropped a can of sugary coke down a companies complete telephone system thingy-me-do-dah-box that wiped out all the communication between departments for three days. I can’t believe I wasn’t sacked for that, instead I had a Drinks at Desk Company Policy named after me.

Some have streets and schools named after them once they do great things, I have a policy.

Of course there will be moments when you screw up, the easiest words to say here are ‘I’m sorry’ and mean it.

At other times you will just lose all thought and common sense. Fleeting moments of just being urm, a fool.

I remember (because I heard they were pregnant), saying to an acquaintance at a wedding, ‘Congratulations, when are you due?’ and they replied, ‘I had the baby in March’.  As it was then September, I felt ever so foolish.

Or at my first catholic wedding when I thought the words were, ‘Pleased to meet you’, as we went round shaking hands with everyone but they were actually ‘Peace, be with you.’ Fool.

Or the time I gave a presentation with a toilet roll tail. Fool.

Or when I waved at a group of people and jumped up and down like an extra on Glee because I thought I knew them, only to realise I didn’t and then carried out the ‘this is how I scratch my forehead for real action’!

Interviews:  how many people have come out of those slapping the palm of their hand against their forehead screaming, ‘What did I say that for?  Fool! Fool! Fool!’

How do you handle your moments of foolishness?

Embrace?

Or  with disgrace?

I’ll leave you with these before you answer:

“Before the beginning of great brilliance, there must be chaos. Before a brilliant person begins something great, they must look foolish in the crowd.”

“You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.”Colette

“Until you’re ready to look foolish, you’ll never have the possibility of being great.” Cher

Don’t sweat them.

Not a drop.

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