I returned to London this week after a bittersweet and desperately needed trip home. The much-loved Auntie Bev passed away and I needed to be home with my family, to support them, and to make the loss real for myself. It's hard to believe in a life-altering change unless you're witness to it. So home I went, with my most leopard-and-fabulous dress to wear to celebrate the classiest woman to rock an animal print in this century.
You know when over 400 people show up to a funeral that someone lived a life well. My aunt's legacy to me has been a combination of lessons, laughs and luxury, including the following:
1. P.A.C.E.: Positive Attitude Changes Everything
2. A pair of leopard gloves or a gold studded belt can make you feel sexy even on the worst day.
3. Wishing to be something or someone else is a waste of the person you are.
4. Eat dessert first.
5. Be kind to others, be kind to yourself.
I also had the great pleasure of celebrating the marriage of my friends James and Betta while I was home, and seeing many of my dear buddies at the wedding. I met James and Betta on the day they met each other, became both of their friends, and have been there as they have moved forward together. Okay, so it took me a little while in the beginning not to say "ewwww" when they kissed, but it felt right to present when they took this giant leap. Singing at their wedding was a great privilege. It was the best medicine to spend quality time with both of them and my other friends.
Because you see, the past three months have been extremely difficult. I think it's not an exaggeration to say that in the midst of moving continents, changing jobs, leaving loved ones, and tentatively committing to a new life, I lost myself. My job has been overwhelming, to say the least. It has consumed my life. If you ask me who I am, I would tell you I'm a writer, singer, dreamer, scholar, thinker, kitty mama, compulsive baker, drunken shopper, aspiring 1930s movie star (did I mention fantastist?). To only be "lawyer," to the exclusion of all else, when this is not, to me, an integral facet of my identity, has been difficult. I've buckled under the weight of it, in fact, and done myself a disservice. But it makes me so tired. And it's so hard. To be away from the family and friends who know you without explanation, who can remind you of who you really are when you forget, working long hours and dealing with constant stress.
Coming home has brought me back. Not from the edge-nothing was ever that dire-but certainly from the grey, back to the land of colour. It took me almost the entire 12 days I was home to thaw out. And now that I'm back to London, the grey is closing in again, as work again piles up, time for myself runs out, and my support network once again becomes, with a few exceptions, long-distance. But I'm determined to live by the lessons my aunt has taught me, and to remember to always be the person who my family and friends have reminded me that I am. Winston Churchill said "never give up" and this is my new mantra. No matter how tired I am, no matter how insidious the stress becomes, I will remember to sing, to write, to love, to dream. And oh yeah, to shop.
To my family: Mom, Dad, Alex, Laura, Annie, aunties, uncles, cousins-you are loved, all.
To my friends-you are my miracle elixir. It was wonderful to see those of you that I managed to cram into my schedule. To those of you I didn't manage to see...I'm sorry. I really wanted to see you, to touch base, and hear about how life goes. I think of you all, everyday.
So, to the bright side. And to staying there, no matter the cost.