I Guess Dubstep Never Dies*.

I sat in the drivers seat of my car, sleeping babies in the back, awaiting the boy as he queued inside the supermarket for sundries and watched a couple walking towards the trolley park.

The woman was tall, strong and carrying weight in the legging and velour top combination that exposed her sturdy form as she carried her child close to her in her arms. A man, who I took to be her partner, shorter than the woman, shuffled steps behind her with a limp, bearing some of the burden on a stick. The child was around the same age as my two little ones in the car and was cosy in a snow suit, wrapped up against the chill of the shifting seasons which brought us to this, the first day of October. The man’s movements were less suggestive of injury than illness. The woman looked back at him and paused, smiling, a moment of genuine love and care. The child joined her with a tiny red-lipped grin and the moment was fixed – of happiness and love. None of the three wore clothes of any expense or structure, their shoes were cheap, everything was well worn and put together in the best way they could muster.

I looked at them and wondered what lay ahead for them. The future does not bode well for people with any vulnerability, particularly not in the current system. Meagre offerings for disability are being attacked and questioned in continuous waves in this political climate, relief from poverty even more so. I watch their child with sadness, wondering what sort of a life she will have in this coming world. I wonder for my own children, for my family.

You wouldn’t think, perhaps, that Deadpool 2 has much to say on this line of thought, but there is a part of the dark comedy Marvel action film that has resonated with me in this respect. If you’ve not seen it, it has a character, Cable, a time traveller who has come back from a dystopian future to kill a young boy, Russell, from the film to prevent him murdering Cable’s wife and daughter in his present. He takes with him a blood soaked teddy bear belonging to his daughter as a grim mascot. The journey has used up one of his two charges for time-hopping, the other he plans to use to return to his family once the deed is done.

In a series of events the main character, Deadpool, sacrifices himself to essentially save the soul of Russell and as he dies Cable, seeing his daughter’s bear become cleansed of blood, slides through time again, this time to insert a lead-based arcade token he has taken from Deadpool, into his body suit, to save Deadpool’s life, yet still allowing the sacrifice to be evident enough to reach the heart of Russell.

The point of this isn’t, as Deadpool crows “You did it for me…”, it’s a matter of hope, as Cable reveals his daughter’s name to be in the moment he slips the token. Cable knows Hope will be safe, but he also knows that without this premise, the premise of him being part of something bigger than himself to reshape the history of the future, the future will still be unbearable. Cable chooses to sacrifice the time with his family to try to be part of something more, to create a better world for Hope to survive in.

Hope lives in a world where people are willing to make sacrifices to make it better. That’s the truth of it all isn’t it. Hope lives when good people refuse to give in, where they work together, raising people up and standing in the way, taking the hits. We all like to think that, when the chips are down, we would be the people who would do our bit.

Well the chips are down.

There’s a lot to think about, for what needs to be done next. We all need to be part of something bigger, for my children, for the little girl in the snowsuit, for hope.

* Quote from Josh Brolin, as Cable, Deadpool 2

Kindness: Being Worthy Of Self Worth

We live in a big, big world, with an ever increasing population coming up to seven and a half billion at the time of writing.

Does every single one of those souls matter? Are they all special? Does each and every one have worth? Type “self worth” into a browser you are offered a dazzling array of solutions for lack of self worth – psychological and motivational options being at the fore – and open any website and internet algorithms supply a number of options for boosting self worth.

Some people appear to brim with self worth, self importance and self confidence. Often this comes in tandem with a less-than meaningful approach to kindness towards others – it is inbuilt, often without negative experience and therefore a privilege. In my mind this is probably embodied by a scene in Thor: Ragnarok in which the titular hero is shackled upside down by a magma-based baddy Surtur, before managing to escape with the help of his hammer and super-strength. “You have made a grave mistake Odinson,” warns Surtur. “I make grave mistakes all the time. Everything seems to work out.” Thor knows everything will be all right because, for him, it has never before gone irretrievably wrong.

Meanwhile there are people in the world who have had their self worth systematically destroyed by others. This often goes hand-in-hand with extraordinary levels of empathy and kindness to others, often to their own detriment. How do we find a middle path where balance can be made between looking after others and looking after ourselves. How do we find self worth?

I suppose the start must come with a decision. An agreement with one’s-self on the answer to the question “What Do I Not Deserve?”

I posit the query in this form as the question “What Do I Deserve?” is simply far too big for many people to comprehend and certainly a question with which those with self-esteem issues will struggle to answer. It is just too much as it is wrapped up in expectation. What you do NOT deserve is far easier to define and becomes a line in the sand as to what we can expect to not happen to ourselves.

So grab some paper and work it through with me. What, feasibly, could happen in relationships with other people, whether they be romantic, family, friendship or just daily interactions that you are not willing to accept?

Well, in any of these I have the following thoughts for myself. I will not be physically hurt – I do not deserve that; I will not be spoken to without respect – I do not deserve that; I will not be ignored – I do not deserve that. What do you think you do not deserve? Write it down.

It might be a list of things, it might just be one thing, but what you have before you is the minimum standard you can expect in your life, the MINIMUM. This is what you expect not to happen to yourself and it is the beginning of self worth because you have decided that there are some things you do not deserve. It may seem like a little thing but it is not, it is the foundation for building self respect. Look at that list. What can you do to make sure that you do not suffer what you do not deserve? What needs to change for you to not suffer it? Think about this, write down some thoughts. Remember – this is only a beginning.

If you cannot think of one thing you think you do not deserve please talk to someone – a friend, a relative, a teacher or one of the agencies I mention below – trust me, there are things that no-one deserves. No-one deserves violence, no-one deserves pain, no-one deserves exploitation, no one deserves to have their freedom taken away – these expectations should be at the very minimum.

Please remember that the biggest kindness you can do for yourself is to ask for help. If you are struggling there’s a number of places in which you can seek help. Give yourself permission to use them – do what you would ask any loved one or even a stranger if you are struggling.

▪️Links for a few organisations to help if you are struggling for someone to turn to:

National Domestic Violence Helpline (UK) (I link to this part of the site as it has the helpline and the reminder to clear search history to keep yourself safe)

The National Suicide Prevention Alliance (UK) -This site offers a variety of contacts in your local area, including Mind, The Samaritans and a variety of other support organisations.

Unseen provide support to those impacted by modern slavery and trafficking.

The NSPCC offer support to children and young people affected by abuse and their families.

There are a number of different agencies around the world offering support for a variety of situations – if you’re looking at this article you have the resources to find help – use a search engine to find the help YOU need. It is out there and please believe me when I say you deserve help, you deserve support.

* This blog is part of a series of my writings on Kindness which starts here.

A Year To Save a Dream: Equally Cursed And Blessed

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I’m finding myself often sitting and gazing at my now four month old twin daughters.

They already seem so big already. I am right there, close by each day and already I feel like I am missing out on so much. It is all passing by so quickly, their faces shifting in shape from newborn to the chubby faces of their age, almost between blinks. Every minute they seem to pick up fragments of personality, new skills, onwards towards the next stage. Sometimes I find myself, as they cry in my arms through no other cause than tiredness, looking at them warmly and steadily with rapt love, so aware that this stage will be over all too soon.

Their older siblings make things no easier. My biggest girl, my first born and for so long my little side-kick, is moving through the years at school at an alarming pace, becoming more and more independent and I’m painfully aware I’ve missed so much. Ever since my first period of maternity leave for her I have worked full time, often with overtime, to allow our life of the two of us to continue forward with security. I’ve missed school performances, despite my best efforts, and exhaustion has often meant I’ve not been entirely present for so much of our free time. That realisation, that admission, is devastating.

Recently, ever aware of time passing me by, I’ve started to fret that I’m not remembering enough. I find myself desperately trying to soak up the detail of each moment, trying to hold down every sensation – how the light falls across the babies smiles, how their skin feels on mine, the exact sound of their coos. These are the details of the times I will have to use to sustain me when I have to be away from them, as they put these early months behind them, develop and grow.

In this second maternity leave, I find myself dreading my return to work. I’m equally cursed and blessed you see. A well paying job but having to sacrifice time with my babies to make it work. All the security, but so little time to be with the very thing I am working for.

I know, it’s rare these days for anyone to have the luxury of staying at home to see their children grow up and it might as well be a pipe dream. It is what everyone would have, would that they could. But some people do – don’t they – they have the best of both worlds? Security and the time to make the most of precious moments?

This, surely, is something I can make work? I am creative, I seem to be able to write things people want to read. Would this be even possible? I have ideas for novels, for books, for projects. What would it take for me to advance this in a real way to try and make our dreams come true?

#ThrowbackThursday Bringing Change: Hopes & Wishes

First published 9th March 2017 on Quiet Radicals

Last month was welcome in sweeping away and closing doors behind it. Taking with it the immediate instant sting of grief, of loss.

It had started with a tiny heartbeat. For us this was Hope, a miracle after an earlier loss. We saw Hope on a screen, wept and held hopeful hands togerther, marvelling at that tiny heart beating in less than a centimetre of potential.
Just three weeks later as my slightly rounded belly was pressed down, we saw Hope again, not much bigger but with that strong, minute pulsing absent. Hope was gone, lost. All there was now was grief and medical options to physically let her go.

That heartbeat had drummed out a promise of a future world, a world that we now know will not become. Thoughts had been turned to preparations. Preparations which are no longer needed. The loss of that tiny heartbeat had been incorporated into our own heartbeats, only to be a soft echo and nothing more.

Two weeks after that, well, what we are left with is the wondering – what is Hope?

What is hope? Defined by the Merriam Webster dictionary as “desire accompanied by expectation or belief in fulfillment”. The dictionary definition, as with so many words, falls far short of the lived experience of hope.

Hope is, in the absence of concrete guarantees, the need to get back up. Hope is not a wish, not a vision of what is better, it is the part that screams “DO NOT GIVE IN”. It is not a petalline and blush concept – it is found in the viscera, perhaps even is of the blood rather than the heart. It is the part of all of us that – in the face of abject mortality, in the line of failure after failure, after losses so great we fear we might never breathe again – tears apart at fear, at defeat, at fatigue. It understands that there can be better than this and shrieks “GET BACK UP.”

Hope is in every act of carrying on, every moment of continuing with each other, with our children who have made it into the world. Hope bursts through, blistering and ripping through grief, into love. It does it again and again and will not stop. Hope is the thing that unifies us all. It inspires courage and lets us start over again and again, and again.

Hope is not lost. Hope lives on always, in all of us.

* If you have been or are being affected by pregnancy loss please make sure you are supported. If you are struggling there are a great many organisations offering help and support. The Miscarriage Association and babyloss are good places to start. And, for all it’s worth, our hearts are with you too.

My partner James has also written about this experience- unusually from the perspective of the dad. I warn you, it is heartbreaking but worth reading here.

Message in a bottle: New beginnings

I am doing my own stepping forward, if only in trying to lead a more deliberate live of love and kindness…

Just Ruby, Really
Just Ruby, Really

Trite isn’t it. The idea of once every year the cliché of fresh starts. A barrage of fitness posts on social media, healthy eating tips and resolutions to effect change are abounds. Predictable, dull.

But in this world, this world that is so very different to the world at the start of 2016, normality is no longer predictable. In point of fact the world is becoming a darker and much more terrifying place. What we learned from 2017 was that in the war between good and evil is that a) evil is something that is contested and not agreed upon, no matter how similar it is to commonly accepted reference points from the past (I refer you to the ‘good folks’ mentality of the American right towards what ostensibly appear to be Nazis; and b) good will not always win, just because it should.

It is into this world that I have brought two new-born girls, alongside my eldest daughter and another son and a daughter I welcomed into my blended family. In these dark times I have to admit, I am afraid. I am afraid for my children. We appear to be at the precipice of epoch defining change and there are no apparent leaders stepping forward to contest that definition being written by those who would profit from it at the cost of all the precious attributes of humanity – kindness, humility, hope and shared progress. Who will stand to unite those who will not accept the sale of the world to the highest bidder?

But there is hope. There is always hope. From between the shadows there are quietly stepping forward thousands of men and women who are ready to make change. They are ready to lead – some in grand ways which might form governments – some of whom are willing to lead in the smallest of ways, making better choices at home and hearth – and neither of these types of leadership are of greater value – all world leaders begin with a home of whatever description and the better we make these homes, the stronger we make these families, the greater the chance we give the fight for good.

So, though the “New Year, New Starters” have previously been some sort of herd thought process, oft driven by consumer culture, perhaps we should see them as much, much more. These are the little manifestations of hope. Hope that we can all change and be better. Good has not yet lost.

So I apologise, with the launch of this new blog I am part of that wave of post-Christmas optimism. I am doing my own stepping forward, if only in trying to lead a more deliberate live of love and kindness, writing it out onto a message to stuff in a bottle and tossing that bottle out on to the turbulent waves of the present.

This is Just Real Ruby, filing my first post…

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