A few nights ago, I had a dream. And in this dream, I woke up… only I was still asleep (Bear with me!) I was running through the ever-expanding garden of a house I once lived. The trees swayed silently in the cool summer breeze. The grass a vivid green, albeit a little overgrown. My heart pounded in my chest like the drum roll of anticipation, racing through my veins. As I continued to sprint through leafy shafts of green, I repeated over “Do not wake up! Do not wake up!” For there, in front of my eyes, was a man I recognised – only so well – yanking up weeds with an old trowel. “Dad!” I called out, waving my arms to catch his attention. He looked up from the small mound of earth and mopped his bead-speckled brow. For a second, we just gazed at each other, awestruck and vacant of words. But then we ran into each other’s arms and allowed 7 lost years to fill the void in our heart. “I’m sorry I haven’t been the daughter I should have been!” I wept, feeling his large comforting hand cup my head to his shoulder. “Amanda,” He whispered, “I am proud of you!” I gulped back the lump that had clawed its way up into my throat. “I don’t judge you, never have!” he said, “If you’re happy, then I’m happy too!”



… and then he turned into a pig.



An adorable, ginger-haired micro pig … that tapped its leg like a dog when I tickled its tummy. I kissed its moist snout and awoke. Golden rays of reality streamed over my wearisome body. And as I battled my eyelids open, I sleepily mumbled…



But, more importantly, where the *insert curse word* have I been? Aha! Good question. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THREE days, to be precise. And the world’s worst blogger goes to…. *drum roll* Yep! That would be me. I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long. I guess you can say that I have been doing a lot of ‘soul searching’ of late … whatever that means. For me, it was burning my retinas with joss sticks and attempting yoga moves so adventurous I put my back out for months. It’s silly, really, this concept of finding oneself. I’ve spent years wondering where I have wandered. “Amanda, where art thou?”. Cries unrequited, I resorted to searching under rocks and in dark caves, only to arrive at the same old conclusion…  I AM HERE … where else would I be?



If only I realised this sooner…

It’s fair to say, I have well and truly buried 2016 into the deep, dark depths of no return… which I then poured petrol over and set fire to.



BOOM. Sizzle. Gone.



How happy I was to invite 2017 into my arms.


Like a whirlwind, 2016 yanked me out by the roots and hurled me 500 miles per hour into a vortex of destruction. The storm eventually passed, but I was left clambering on my hands and knees, wondering what the bloody hell has just happened. I felt overwhelmed by the chaos around me, and as I spiralled deeper into depression, I started to feel ashamed of who I had become. My marriage, at this point, had taken its last dying breath… and, quite frankly, I was feeling a bit sorry for myself.


It was easy for me to wallow in a pool of my own misery, idly floating while the world passed me by. And as I wept into my cereal, I would find myself questioning the meaning of my life. I mean, this can’t be it? Surely? What is the meaning of life? But as much as I shook my fists and demanded answers, they never came. Even Google Search was shooting blanks. I guess a part of me longed for a bit of reassurance; an encouraging hand upon the shoulder, “It’s going to be okay, kid” or even a friendly kick up the backside.


Desperate and absent of answers, I took a trip to see a psychic medium – a balding Buddhist who ordered I take my shoes off before I entered what looked more like a frosty store cupboard than a ‘hippie haven’.  I did so – out of respect – and took a pew on the chair opposite him. With eyeballs dancing beneath eyelids, he told me he sensed a male presence. Let’s face it, this is what had brought me here; I wanted to contact my dead father.  I pictured him sitting in the corner – shirt off, gold chains nestling in a mass of chest hair (He was always bloody shirtless – even in the winter!). And as the reading went on, I imagined him shaking his head disapprovingly and mumbling something like …

Hippy shit
I giggled at the thought, but then I wondered… Would he be proud of me? Probably not. 30 years old – broken marriage – jobless – as mad as the Hatter and as lost as Alice… not exactly credentials to brag about. But maybe I was wrong? Maybe there were lessons to be learned from the wreckage that had become my life? Maybe my life wasn’t such a ‘train wreck’ after all? I don’t know if the incense had gone to my head, but I walked out of the jingling door completely sold on the – as my dad would have called it –  ‘hippie shit’.  I felt like the heavens had opened that day and were rejoicing in my new found spiritual enlightenment.


I threw myself into the ‘hippie’ stuff for a while – I bought every spiritual guide on the market, listened to whales singing and chakra’ed my way to orgasm (It’s true! The Sacral chakra will blow your mind!)  … and without really realising it at all, I had switched off from that ‘inside voice’ telling me I wasn’t good enough, telling me I had failed in life, telling me that everything was a mess.


The truth was, I may have ‘felt’ like I was in a whirlwind of destruction, but I wasn’t – it was all a matter of perspective. I was never lost or absent of answers, for I am HERE and the answers are within me. I didn’t need a psychic to tell me how my life might unfold. I didn’t need to beg the almighty Gods for a sign. I didn’t even need my dad to reassure me… as nice as it was of him to swing by and help me with my gardening (Those pesky weeds!) I just needed to take a moment to breathe and realise that my so-called problems were nothing but an illusion of the mind – a mere manifestation of malignant thoughts, leaching on my confidence and robbing me of energy. As soon as I realised I could I silence them, I found inner peace …. and I guess that’s when my search came to an end and I found true fulfilment in just “BEING”.



“HOLY CRAP! I was the pig all along – blissfully contented in its messy, imperfect little world. Oh sweet irony!”



And so, as I enter 2017 a little less ‘train wreck’ and little more ‘Let’s meditate and shit!’, I feel like a much healthier, happier and spiritually-grounded person. Heck! I’ll be ‘freeing the nipple’ before you know it! On a serious note, I am grateful that I have experienced what felt like being sucked into a cyclone of complete and utter chaos. Why? You may ask. Well, now that the storm has ceased, I am able to see it all for what it really was … an opportunity to learn, grow and flourish. 6 months ago, I was a very lost person. I was a pessimist. A cynic. The bottle was always half empty… unless it was ‘Prosecco’ because, in that case, the bottle would be TOTALLY empty. In a nutshell, I wasn’t in a great place … but now – all thanks to a dodgy clairvoyant – I am able to treasure EVERY moment, no matter how insignificant, because – I give you permission to slap me with a wet fish – life is too short and I want to embrace every beautiful second of it… Can I get a hallelujah? *Tumbleweed passes by* 


And sometimes, it’s just best to not think, wonder or obsess. Just BREATHE, let go, trust and see what happens…. maybe just maybe… everything will work out.



…And even if it doesn’t, I’ll still be just fine. 



2017, I’ve got my harem pants on and I’m ready for ya!



Ego says, “Once everything falls into place, I’ll feel peace.” Spirit says, “Find your peace, and then everything will fall into place.” – Marianne Williamson





Happy ‘belated’ NEW YEAR, Guys!



I’ve missed chatting with you and feel a little ‘out of the loop’. I will get round to catching up with people (I promise!) But for now, tell me….


How was your New Year?

What’s new?

Did you make any resolutions for this year?

Had any crazy dreams lately?

Is anyone else into the ‘hippie shit’ …or is it just me? 



Please leave a comment below …

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