The Past 9 Months
Intro
I sit here pondering about this new post, and about why it’s taken me so long to feel an urge to write again, as I look out from the large bay windows, sat in ‘my’ spot in the White Cross, Richmond. I can see across the Thames, Richmond Bridge, and the water front. It’s a beautiful view, and on this cold, crisp day, the blue sky is slowly turning pink as the day fades into dusk. I’ve just finished my customary squash soup, ending my normal Saturday fast, getting over the alcohol drunk last night, and feeling quite serene after my normal Saturday cleansing ritual of salt bath, sage cleanse, and prayer to God and the Universe. The water slowly climbs and will eventually trap us all in here, a peculiar quirk of The White Cross, but one of the many that gives it its charming character (and why I love it here so much, my favourite spot since I’ve come back to SW London).
It's been over 9 months, and much, I suppose, has changed since last winter. To put it simply, the mushrooms experience signalled an end to my last phase of healing work. My body, looking back, had to rest after the gargantuan shift in me that took place that night, but also, I believe, uncovering and releasing the trauma that had plagued me since birth, led to my body needing recovery from the enormous energic weight it had carried for the past 40 years. I went into physical shut down. I tried to carry on with my work but it was useless, I was done, brain, heart and soul went into hibernation. I stopped therapy in May and just focused on having a fun spring and summer. Which I did. Oh yes.
I’ve also come to realise that the urge to write has been energised and driven by my churning emotions, or at least, has been up until now, given the focus of the topics. With no personal work leading to the uncovering and releasing of emotional energy, the last thing I’ve wanted to do is write. I also look back at the months from July last year to the night of December 30th, and I marvel at just how hard I pushed myself, to the limit, night after night, session after session, exploration after exploration, until that night. I was a slave to my work, but no longer. I’ve been resting, recuperating and re-organising my life since. Re-building my life in the right way, for the first time, driven from a place of self-love and worth, and not from a place of chasing a love outside of me, my defining trait of 4 decades that had me cross entire oceans.
Stability, security, grounding and commitment. That’s what I’ve been working on. That has been my focus. The year has unfolded perfectly, moments of which have been quite difficult, but for which I am eternally grateful.
The mushrooms permitted me to heal sufficiently to put myself first, without the fear of losing anyone. Away have gone the relationships that weren’t serving me, and in some cases were harming me. I, based on the advice of friends, have relocated to my mum’s (more on that later) until the end of the year, whilst I focus on my boys, on seeing them, and showing them a great time over here in London during Christmas.
Spring
Spring brought its challenges, as I found myself compressed by my finances. I tried to get more money at TfL, but being a contractor in such a large organisation, whilst they were indeed very happy with my work and had told me that I had years of work there ahead of me if I liked, the bureaucracy did not allow for it. Living alone in West Hampstead came to an end, best described by this piece I wrote below back in June. This compression, however, pushed me into a new phase of life, which, again, is testament to how each challenge is an opportunity, and happiness in life is largely a matter of perspective.
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Leaving West Hampstead, 3rd June 2023
Here I am dousing myself in the last splashes of poshness in my beloved West Hampstead. In the best bar in (town?). My dear Alice (House). My recent sharp decline in the consumption of alcohol has likely been felt by both profit margins and employees alike, in this marquis establishment, but they get to see my sunny face, albeit un-drunk (a blessing), and only sipping from an inexpensive green tea or lime soda, prices of which range from anywhere between forty-five pence to a whopping and undoubtedly criminal £2.50. Really?? For a teardrop’s worth of lime cordial and some carbonated water? Yeah. £2.50 can fuck off, if I’m honest. Yes, there was a place that gave me lime soda for free, two, in fact, the lovely barmaid in KOKO Camden who unfortunately disappeared just two hours into Kerri Chandler’s fantastic February residency, and a pub in Belsize Park, where the bartender took a pitying attitude towards me as he looked me up and down, leaving me feeling self-conscious, as he no doubt thought, ‘poor chap, must be down on his luck’.
No my friend, nothing to do with luck. Living in West Hampstead has been like living on the edge of Interstellar’s black hole - ‘Gargantua’, where everything, specifically my money, is sucked away from me before it even enters my virtual pockets. My wages have been like comets harbouring life, on the verge of exploding prosperity all over my grateful being, pulled away and sucked into the infinitely dense singularity of nought pounds in my bank account.
My flash apartment on Compayne Gardens has had me by the balls since I moved in. For half of this past year it was fine, it kept me in place and focused on my inner work. I looked after my place and it looked after me during what has been one of the most difficult and exhausting years of my life. But, since the turn of the New Year, where my inner work chapter has closed to simply permit my body and soul to rest, the financial constraints have been driving me nuts. As is my custom, though, I look for the lesson in the experience. I am no victim, I chose to move here after splitting from my ex, my intuition making it very clear to me that I had to be alone for this next chapter, which has led to the biggest healing experience of this journey so far.
So, what’s the lesson(s)? Learning to be careful with my money, and the lack of it, has ultimately pushed me to seek a higher placing in my career as an engineer (I’ve not thirsted for promotion or more responsibility in my job since I came back to the UK, I’ve been quite happy to be the one taking orders since I’ve been back – what leading a company for years does to you). All good there I suppose, a positive from the situation. It’s also helped me better understand what’s important to have in your living space and what’s not. It’s been a bit extreme at times, but a valuable lesson all the same. In Colombia I lived for most of my time there in relative financial abundance that my job and then my company afforded me.
The other lesson I’ve learnt is to look after myself, on my own, as for 9 of the past 14 years I had a wife who took care of our home and children, with me being the breadwinner, and then once we split, I had employed maids to do the domestic work - a necessary expense when living alone and having a business as I did in my last few years abroad. So it’s been super important for me to take care of myself, my home, and rely on me. Another massively important lesson that I can take away from NW6.
Anyway, West Hampstead. To think I’d never heard of the place prior to me partaking in a flat-share with my ex here.
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Continued…..11th November 2023
The high street with the best stylist in London (yes, I’m looking at you, Vitalis) in Hob Salon, the best take away restaurant-quality curry that adorned many a Friday night in my flat (yes, you, Daakoo, bless you and your chicken Mudurai), the best little gem shop (yes, you, North West 6) complete with Tarot and palm reading which confirmed to me that yes, I have djing in my blood, along with a strong sexual imagination and energy (yep, though slightly weird hearing this from a complete stranger, queue nervous clearing of throat and awkward silence), and the list goes on. My Sunday walks to the Heath (a massively important place for me during these 12 months), and Hampstead High Street were also key highlights. 25mins door to door from work from one of the best connected corners of London, and the list of pros goes on.
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It wasn’t to be though. Whilst West Hampstead is very, very nice, and I absolutely believe that it was the place I was meant to be in for that year, in that apartment, there were things that were simply not aligned to where my soul wanted to be.
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Going back to Mum’s
Heading back to my mum’s for a break between places was not a decision I took lightly. After all, I had begun to heal the damage of my childhood, starting the ‘Inner Child’ journal and its activities. Being with the main protagonist of that pain, I felt, was not going to be good for me.
To be honest with myself and with you the reader, I felt like a failure, having to go back to my mum’s, being so strapped of cash whilst living alone in London. It was a moment of real reflection and regret. I began to question my path of the previous couple of years, I cast my mind back to my company, how I’d walked away from it with nothing to get away from the toxic business relationship I was in, if it had been the right choice when the company was clearly worth towards $700K (maybe more given its intangible brand worth), if I had it in me to set up another company to make some real money again, if that chance and opportunity (and energy) was gone for this lifetime, if it would take me another decade, the questions and regret where overwhelming. The inner critic bellowed ‘you’re 41 years old, going back to your mum’s, after the life you’ve had, you have a great job and look at you, still can’t make ends meet, what a failure’ – I learnt a lot about myself and the inner voice that hounded me.
Looking back, I had lost sight that my life story is my own, nobody else’s, and leaving school, doing university, getting married, buying a house and having 2.4 children was simply not for me. I tried, but it’s not been my story. I kept reminding myself of this as the voice tried to deafen me, comparing me to the average Joe, telling me what I didn’t have. Their ball is bigger than mine etc etc. I kept telling myself I’m not a typical dude. It’s so important to understand this and not be swept away by the tide of society, and stereotypes, and what the world expects us to be, to have, and to live.
Important side note: Walking away from a company that I had built over the course of a decade, my baby, the project I had poured my heart and soul into, and had made immense sacrifices to get it to where it was, might sound almost impossible. Weirdly, however, I had a feeling that it would take me walking away with nothing to remove myself from that relationship. This was almost 18 months before I actually did it. So, it took me 18 months to find the strength, courage and wisdom, to realise that this was in fact the best way forward and was what I needed to do to move on with my life. Sometimes our gut tells us something so far in advance it takes months, even years for our ego-self to catch up. Hey ho.
Moving back to my mum’s was a tough decision but one I ultimately had to make. My friends were key in helping me to see it as an opportunity and not a failure. This changed my perspective and made the whole thing easier to deal with. My Angel’s reading in May confirmed that spending a few months with my mum was what I had to do, and whilst it felt like I was choosing, I wasn’t. It had to happen, and I now understand why. This time together, to begin with, led to the most important conversation I’ve ever had with her. Where I stated clearly, I would no longer permit her to talk to me as she had done my whole life, in that strong, cold, critical, at times aggressive, castigating way. That I would no longer allow her to use guilt or emotional blackmail against me. That I was no longer that child, and her way of communicating with me had to change.
Other conversations had me telling her that I left my childhood and her home believing I was an inherently bad person, that I was worth nothing, that I deserved no love and I deserved to be physically abused. These moments, as difficult as they were, leaving me once more in tears on my bedroom floor, wondering if I could ever break the cycle, have led to a transformation in her. She has respected my boundaries, communicates with me differently, and cannot do enough for me. Whilst she has never accepted any responsibility or said sorry, I know she has heard me, and she has understood (or at least begun to understand) how her behaviour affected her boy. I also know it pains her to see me back in therapy, healing the wounds that growing up in her house created.
I look at her and have reflected on how cold I feel, that for now, I cannot give her affection as opening these wounds and releasing the emotions has made it all alive again. That it pains me not being able to reciprocate her good nature towards me. I have reflected on this with my therapist, and in her gentle, understanding way, she responded, ‘maybe one day you’ll be able to forgive her’. I look at my mum now, the elderly lady that she is and the child-like energy and happiness and silliness that run through her. I’m starting to see her in a different light. I’m also starting to see me in her. I hope these changes continue, as I carry on my work.
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Oxford Circus (Changing job)
So I left TfL. I loved every minute of my time there and have never worked with a bunch of nicer, more highly skilled people. Working on the London Underground was a dream come true and has purpose. Working on the veins of my beloved city to keep it moving!
I felt like a true engineer for the first time, and actually loved my job during those 15 months. The work I carried out was meaningful, fascinating, and allowed me to use skills I had picked up during my time teaching and leading a business, but which I had not yet used in an engineering context. Leaving was a difficult choice, but one I felt I had to make for two reasons. The first was the situation caused by a compliant that was made against me. The second was the change I felt I needed for more employment stability. Whilst TfL wanted me to stay, even offering me a permanent role, the numbers simply didn’t stack up. I felt that my time as a contractor was coming to an end, I was looking to go ‘perm’. These realisations and the inner desire for more financial and work stability wouldn’t have come about if it hadn’t been for a very expensive flat in West Hampstead, pushing me to make a change.
The Complaint
The situation occurred during a time I was under some considerable pressure, pulling together and authoring a lengthy study that had taken a year to complete. I was on a call with my project manager who I worked closely with, and the conversation very quickly lead to me feeling cornered into a way of working that was not for me. I reacted, strongly (cornering me is not something I deal with well, as I step back into my wounded self-defensive state), and told the people in the meeting in no uncertain terms that I didn’t work that way, and if they didn’t leave me alone they could find someone else.
Looking back, I was unnecessarily blunt (upon reflection a way of being which was forged in the quite harsh construction industry environment I had spent a large part of my career in), but, as what seems to be my story, where my actions lead to healing moments, the event triggered a reaction in this woman (my PM), who had shown herself to be highly emotionally sensitive, and who had complained to me about every single male co-worker in our respective teams.
I was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The complaint was made, I apologised so that it wouldn’t go any further, as advised by my bosses (I meant every word, as whilst my stance was valid, I did overstep the mark with my reaction), and the matter was cleared up. That said, the whole episode played out a familiar pattern. I was the bad guy once again, with no voice or safe place to express my point of view to the other person. The mitigating factor of her deep-seated issues with male members of staff was not communicated to her. Given the current climate of woman empowerment (which I obviously fully support), TfL panicked. My bosses agreed with me and confirmed that they too had also seen the same traits, but this didn’t lead anywhere. This was a major wake-up call, leading me to step away from an environment that had not protected me.
I got back in touch with some agents and this led to me being contacted by a multinational engineering company working on the new Tesla Gigafactory in Berlin. They offered me silly money to work out there, though something about it didn’t quite sit right. I also think, looking back, my desire to stay put and not leave the UK again was also nagging at me. Nevertheless, it was the best offer I had at the time, so I went ahead and signed the contract. An old colleague and friend was already working there which aided in my decision. I was off to Berlin, when I received a phone call from an agent that I hadn’t heard from in over a year. A call from the blue, if you like. She asked if I would mind her sending my CV over to a company I had flirted with before, a large commercial M&E (mechanical and electrical engineering) outfit who were well known in the industry.
I said, yeah, why not? This was a woman who I trusted and knew (I could feel), was looking out for me. On a side note the Angels did say that I would receive help from a contemporary of mine, and a Tarot reading also said that workwise something would land in my lap! Ha. Why worry, eh?
She told me of the drawbacks of going out to Berlin, which I had feared, like being made to work long hours, chaotic programmes, and big pressures. She got back to me saying that the company would like to interview me, so I said OK, but the process with Tesla had reached an end. I signed the contract for the Tesla job in the morning and had the interview in the afternoon. It went great, and it just felt right, and whilst they couldn’t eventually match the Berlin figures, it was a permanent job at a company I had heard great things about, from an old friend who had worked there for over 10 years. So here I am, promoted once more into a management position, working at Oxford Circus on a large and quite prestigious project, overlooking and commuting to the station which had been central to two of my previous projects at TfL. So I’m happy, my first permanent role in the M&E engineering game for over 15 years, and so far so good. It’s intense, and I have to be on site every day, but it’s all good. Commuting I’ve missed, weirdly, and the hybrid world was not really for me, after having worked from home since 2016, it's nice to be part of an excellent and very experienced team, working up town, with office banter that is largely very, very, wrong. Just like the old days.
So far so good, and job, sorted.
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Security, stability, grounding, commitment.
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Richmond
Since I came back to the UK I have been drawn to Richmond. My back fence growing up was and is the border between Kingston and Richmond boroughs, and I have spent much time here since I’ve been back. The park has been my haven, as I think it has always been. Since arriving back at my mum’s I have decided this is where I want to live, where I want to spend my life when in London. It has one of my favourite spots in the world, the view and benches at the top of Richmond Hill, overlooking the ‘Matchless Vale’ of Petersham, as James Thomson the 18th century poet describes it. I’ve been reading locally produced books on the history of Richmond, Petersham and Ham, have even joined the Richmond Local History Society, attending a fabulous talk on the adventures of Captain George Vancouver, renowned explorer of the 18th century, who is buried in Petersham, and everywhere I look, I think of the rich tapestry of life it has had over the past 500 years. It’s not too urban, has the green, some great pubs and some decent restaurants, and is not too far from the action should I want to head up town. The fast train to Waterloo makes commuting to work simple and easy. The river and the park are where I grew up and what I love. Places that have been immensely important for me since my return in January 2021.
I am happy that my heart has finally found a home, and whilst it won’t be cheap, I now know I’m happy to live in a box as long as it’s here. I need no more.
Dating
I suppose, again, looking back, each moment and outcome has had its purpose. Initially, in February when I last posted, I was still in the throes of grief. I had stopped all communication with my ex in early January, I suppose one of the main ‘effects’ of my mushroom experience was acknowledging just how harmful remaining in contact with her had been for me. That ending of communication brought about its own release. Then, on the 17th February she reached out to ask if I wanted to DJ at a friend’s party. I declined, not because I was afraid of what would happen with her, it was more the fear of how much it would hurt having to say no to her. It’d be too much, and seeing her, well, I knew I’d probably fall in love with her again. I had spent too much energy in stepping away to fall again. It was a very difficult moment of closing a door, which again brought about another release, another step on the path of letting go. I was in pieces that day and those that followed. Here I began to understand that I was no longer leading with my heart, as I had done throughout my life. The Dreamer, wishing on a hope, had to take a back seat, and I had to protect myself. My head, my Divine Inner Parent had taken over, he/she would not let myself become exposed to pain again. My heart was no longer in charge.
On February 19th as I embarked on my normal Sunday walk to Regent’s Park, I was full of emotion, with tears running down my cheeks as I made my way through the northern entrance. I wanted a hot chocolate but didn’t know where to get one so I let my intuition guide me, this is a small story in itself so for the purposes of this post, let’s just say that I ended up where I needed to be, in a yoga studio café, where I met a new woman. Within a couple of weeks we started seeing each other and it lasted around two months. It was nice, and she is a lovely, kind and special woman who I found attractive, but upon reflection there were three main things that weren’t working:
I didn’t really have the time or focus to be in a relationship.
There were many things that I felt weren’t clicking for me, personality-wise, between us.
Maybe most importantly, I was still heartbroken. My heart simply wasn’t ready for a new relationship….I was emotionally unavailable, and have been to a large extent since.
My ex and I had made a promise that we would tell each other if we met someone new. When I knew I would start dating this new woman I immediately told her, this led to a beautiful interchange between us, respectful, loving and open. It was yet another step on the path of letting go, once more leading to a big release for me. All part of the journey I suppose. For her, it was clearly the moment she could finally close the door on me and move on with her life. All necessary, all, I feel, part of the plan which had to unfold as it did. My ex is now with someone new, which again, when I was told, was yet another step of letting go, and also a good opportunity for me to stop and feel it all, embrace the change and situation. When I saw a photo of her and her new man appear on my feed, coincidentally (yes, I know, no such thing) on the morning of a party in which I had great doubts about attending because she had told me she would be there with this new guy, I didn’t feel any jealousy or pain. Just happiness for her. That, for me, was a very proud moment, an unexpected reaction, and one that still warms my heart.
I suppose the most valuable lesson from this brief encounter was that I was able, for the first time in my life, to set clear boundaries with this new woman, in retrospect probably a little too strongly, but hey, I had done more for myself in a relationship in one evening with her, than I had ever done. I had broken my boundary cherry. It was enormously important, and very scary to do given what had always happened in previous relationships. But I did. And it was worth it, mistakes and all.
I’ve met a couple of women when out, partaken in some extra curricular activities but nothing of note, or anything more than a sporadic fulfilling of carnal needs when very, very drunk. Moving on..
Internet Dating (is not for me)
So I’ve never been a fan of what I consider to be manufactured connections, mechanically provided via apps like Tinder, Hinge et al. I have always felt my relationships have come from moments when the Universe has put that person in my path, so I know, deep down, that it’ll happen when the time is right. That said, whilst I now fully understand that being able to be OK on your own is an absolute superpower, and my ‘aloneness’ didn’t necessarily mean I was ‘lonely’ (see my post on this from last year), I have been told that my energy isn’t of one who is meant to be alone, and, after all, this is the longest I have spent being single in 15 years.
Recently, my heart has felt an acute desire to be with someone, and I would like to be, for I am a very loving person, with lots of love to give. I want to share my life with someone again, have fun, and moments of intimacy again, have a craic and be wrong with someone again. I am feeling this now, but have learnt to be grateful for what these feelings are teaching me each day about myself.
So, one day, I was scrolling through Instagram, as you do, and I stumbled upon a concept called ‘Twelve Stories’, a venture based in Richmond (hmm). Long story short they give you a match a month and they match you, manually, based on a lengthy questionnaire you fill out when you join, using some key research-based principles that are the backbone of what constitutes a healthy relationship. I’ve been matched three times.
Date 1:
Cocktails in a delightful bar in the West End, followed by dinner. A great time was had, and she was indeed a lovely woman and lots of fun. I just wasn’t physically attracted to her.
Date 2:
Met with a woman who apparently could not stand still for any length of time, so we went on a speed walk around Wandsworth Common whilst we tried not to spill our, what I reflected afterwards were, quite stingy little cups of hot chocolate served by Earsfield’s rather nice Gails. I was spoken at for an hour, and whilst again, I wasn’t physically attracted to her, there were many things we could have connected on if she had been inclined to listen. I don’t think she was attracted to me (clearly what I had to say wasn’t that important), so queue awkward hug and ‘bye’ before I went for a cool sharp Harp exit to the station. It was weird, and it riled me, to be honest.
I figured that evening, you know what Juan, this is not me. It’s not healthy for me, someone who is healing wounds around self-worth from childhood.
Date 3 :
Wasn’t even a date, it was a phone call, which was great, I loved it, but again, I had no inclination to contact her again, nor clearly, her me.
Anyways. Internet dating. I’ve tried it, works for some, just not me.
I understand that in my case, venturing onto an internet dating platform is akin to forcing the Universe’s hand, which, if my life has taught me anything, I don’t have to do. Everything has unfolded as it should and will continue to do so. I just need to keep the faith. I will carry on working through those emotions that come from being alone right now and confide that it’ll come, and when it does, it’ll be perfect.
The Universe and God have never let me down, so why worry now?
Other stuff
Friendships
Some have ended and others have begun. When I attended the Transformational Travel Council Gathering, high up in the Cascade Mountains outside of Seattle in early 2020, I said to myself then that I had never felt so surrounded by people who were like me. No coincidence that many if not all were tour operator founders and owners like myself, with similar stories and pasts. All had been through shit. All had journeyed in the search of freedom and transformation through travel.
Fast forward to this year, and I have made good friends with contacts I had from the business days. One, an ex-tour operator and nature reserve owner, and now director of Latin America travel for a very well known UK operator, and another, an ex-Wall Street banker and now owner of a very well-known tour operator in NYC, who’s been a TedEx speaker amongst other accolades. Aside from my life-long band of brothers (you know who you are, love you all x), these two people have been like kindred spirits for me, and its been wonderful to share everything about my life, from the difficult life stories, to business and the decisions we’ve had to make, to family, to the deep, magical, spiritual side that the three of us are currently exploring. I am immensely grateful to have these new buddies in my life.
I’ve come to realise that my friendships, and what each of those relationships provide for me, cover most if not all the facets of Juan. There’s not one friend who can connect with me on everything, and I shouldn’t expect there to be. Each relationship nurtures and fulfils a different part of my intellectual, emotional and spiritual self. As it should be. I love you all, you lovely bunch of humans. Thank you for being the best bunch of friends in the WORLD x
Mixing
I’ve got back into my mixing, and whilst having a mix in a time-rented studio, on equipment I am not that familiar with (welcome Juan to the 21st century), is not ideal, and whose equipment is high spec and is regularly battered by over enthusiastic D&B DJs, it is a lot of fun. My mixing has been a bit rusty for my liking but I’m getting there, it’s just nice to get back behind the decks and get excited about new music – and actually buy new music for the first time in what seems like a long time. I have certainly felt the need to play music much more than write, so it’s in these sweaty little pirate studios that I let my heart and soul lead for my artistic output. Check out my mixes on this site here.
Partying
Lots of it and it’s been great. Dancing is integral to who I am, as is house music. Had the chance to shake hands with true legends in the House scene over the summer, and listen to awe-inspiring sets that had me losing my shit like never before, and even take some bloody friends with me!!! Been great, helped by my dear friends and DJ pals who make me feel so welcome at their wonderful parties.
Exercise
Keeping fit is key for me (healthy body, healthy mind and all that), and since the start of the year my body has had various ailments, nothing serious, but reminders that I am now 41, not 21, and that I need to actually start taking conscious care of my body. I am happy to be back in a pretty good fitness routine, I am eating well during the week and allowing myself to eat whatever I want from Friday to Sunday (within reason). So all in all, whilst I need more weights and yoga time, for now, my long weekend runs and high intensity training during the week will do. I’m still pretty damn fit, so all good. I’m putting together a calisthenics routine (when I can be arsed to finish reading the manual), so maybe paying for yet another membership won’t be necessary. Anyways...>>>
Overall
I’m in a good place, better than I’ve ever been. Work is fun and intense, my boys are over for Christmas and that’s all on my plate for now. I’m back in bi-weekly therapy and maybe, maybe this phase won’t take the same shape as the last. It’s important to know that whilst my mind has been fixed on working through these journals, this next stage might look completely different, and I may feel the need to use other methods than just journalling – as fundamental as it is for me. We’ll see.
The long, cold nights are drawing in, who knows if I’m due another transformation like I had last December 30th. Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I’ll keep on working, digging, uncovering, releasing, understanding and healing.
I’m sure it won’t be another 9 months before I post again.
I might start writing short stories around events that have occurred in my life. We’ll see.
Thank you for being here with me.
With love x
J
