The tale of two half-lives

I arrived in Sydney reeking of heartbreak and hopelessness. I was hurting, I needed to feel good about myself, and I thought Australia could give it to me. My impromptu trip to my second 'home' here on the Northern Beaches was an attempt to mend a broken heart, and in some ways it has done that. Time to myself, away from the everyday pressures of life, has given me time to process and come to terms with the loss of someone that my heart was desperately holding on to.

But despite the cathartic closure I have found, there still remains a niggling unsettledness in me and my time here. I couldn't put my finger on it for a while, but now I understand. For the past four years I have made my way to Australia, each year saving all my money and pining for the life I have made here.  For four years I have yearned and wished and clawed at Australia. But in those years, in trying to be here and too in being here, my life has remained static. I have travelled all these miles, year after year, and yet I have been standing still. And that is no way to live a life.

Actively avoiding romance and consciously being closed to non-Australian love, in order to avoid complications, has left me colder and harder than I have ever been. It's made me even more cynical, even more indignant and even more stubborn. And deep down I know what we all know: that everyone on this earth just wants to be loved. That I want to be loved too. In willfully thrusting myself into this sticky limbo-life, I have been keeping it out. What a ridiculous trade off to make.

I have been closing the door on love, in order to try and open a door to a life in Australia. But when that door to Australia opens, and I really, really look at it, I find that the room is empty - it has nothing to offer me. And so I am left with neither. Standing in a corridor of doors that won't open, all alone.

I'm not sure what I was looking for here. Maybe it was just something different to my life in the UK, maybe it was the idea of being on the other side of the world. Maybe it was an escape from the fact that I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, so pining after a country was easier than admitting I didn't have a fucking clue what to do next. Whatever the reason was, there is nothing left for me here.

I have never felt truly at home in the UK, and coming to terms with the fact that my home isn't in Australia either is scary. But it's better to know and be able to keep searching, than to accept a life that I don't truly love.

So now the time has come to move on, to close a chapter that has pretty much ruled my life since 2013, to accept that I can't find something that isn't there. The friends and memories I have made here are beautiful beyond words, and thinking about leaving this place behind breaks my heart, but Australia doesn't have what I need.

I cannot go on living two half lives, for two half lives do not make me whole.

And whilst I am truly sad to walk away from this part of my life, I am filled with excitement for the adventures that await in my search for 'home'.

JoJo

x

Out of the Darkness

Last night I didn't dream of falling, which is kind of a bloody big deal. I did, however, dream of being in a female insane asylum, where some lady's multiple personality actually turned into another person, its skinny body formed on her bottom bunk with lank hair and emaciated skin. But swings and roundabouts - I guess there's still some dark stuff lurking in there.

When I wrote my last post, I found myself at what is sometimes referred to as 'the bottom'. The overwhelming feeling of being alone was suffocating. Luckily for me I have some beautiful humans in my life, who rolled their sleeves up, pulled their hair back and dove head-first into the thick, bitter, syrupy darkness I was sinking in, and helped me to swim to the surface, all the time showing me  that the 'me' I thought was gone, had simply got a little lost. The boot is now off and I've been told to apply a little weight through the foot, with about another month to go before I'll be walking. The end is still a little way off, but knowing this is the last leg of the race is very encouraging. 

Looking forward, I will be moving JoJo Goes Public to a snazzy new website with all my old posts on as well as new ones, so keep an eye out that. I will also be working from home, writing blogs and other copy for small businesses, whilst laying the foundations for my dream job as an outdoor activity instructor - something that I was once told to forget after the accident, but am now reassured I can still achieve (with a bit of patience and hard work getting my foot back to normal). So, things are suddenly a lot less dreary than they seemed not so long ago. It's amazing what a few encouraging words and a change in perspective can do. 

So, this is just a short post to say thank-you to everyone who sent nice messages or called or wrote me a letter or sent a card. It was pretty special to receive such a supportive response for what could have seemed a very self-indulgent post. It was really reassuring to know how many people had felt exactly the same way, and how they had come out on the sunnier side of it.

Thank you to my wonderful friends who understood my crazy, desperate mood was my way of communicating that I felt lost and alone, and for not just ignoring it because it might have been an uncomfortable beast to square up to. Thanks for knowing how much I hate to admit I'm struggling, and how far down I had sunk to write a whole bloody blog post about it. Thanks for understanding that I have once again left my heart in Australia, and how much harder this injury has been because of that.

The roller-coaster of the last two months is not one I want to ride again, but it is no doubt a testament to all the incredible people I have around me, holding me up when my wonky foot can't.

I'm looking forward to a year of regaining my strength and working towards a happy and fulfilling future, as well as attempting to repay all the kindness shown to me in this strange and challenging time.

JoJo 

x 

Take Me To The Sea, It Knows Me Well

Since being back home I've felt a little colder. Not due to the twenty degree temperature drop, but to my hardened sense of self. I know that this is a product of a somewhat emotionally difficult year, and it unnerves me. It makes me like myself less.

I hate feeling that coldness inside, it's icy touch creeping all over my little heart. I have this feeling that maybe I will never really be the same again, that this is one of those things that happens as you grow up that makes the world seem a little less easy, that makes life seem a little bit more fragile. I have always been resilient, in the sense that I have always been able to see the other side, to know that the other side is inevitable. And I still feel that. I just haven't crested the monstrous hill yet.

The months following my return have been so bloody busy that I have hardly had a single evening to myself. I've crammed my days with work, and my evenings too. I've been running and going to classes and applying for jobs. Recently, due to a project reaching it's climax, I have found myself with more time on my hands. And I've realised that all that busyness was a somewhat calculated plan on my behalf - if I was busy, then I wouldn't have to face what was stirring up inside me. Now I can see that the dark thing that was once an iceberg is still near-freezing water, burning at my insides. And now that I am forced to look at it, I'm scared it will flare up again, spurred on by the cold winds of my focus. I'm scared that it will bring down all the work I have done, piecing myself together.

I have never been so afraid of my own darkness. I have never wanted to run away from something, but I really, really don't want to spend any more time trying to defrost. It exhausts me, it takes my breath from me.

Things in Cardiff are slow, in a hectic, busy way. In an everyone-rushing-about way. I find it harder to meditate here.In an unrewarding way. I find myself checking my phone instead of checking my feelings. I find myself surrounded by consumerism, waves of sales and plastic bags and statement hats.

All I really want is heavy, powerful, pure waves of water rushing and crashing over and around me.

The water and I have this special thing. It's something I think people who have grown up around water share. I went back to Pembrokeshire on the weekend and I took a chilly dip in the icy sea, my swimming costume clinging to my goose-bumped skin, the wind rushing around me, pinking my cheeks. I only swam for a few minutes, but I felt instantly calm. Instantly cleansed. Instantly closer to myself. My soul came home and I was able to see through the fuzzy, white noise that has been plaguing my mind for so long.

I whispered a thank you to the water and got out. I changed and sat in a cave watching the water gently stroke the sand, like a lover stroking a cheek. I was able to think in linear. I was able to stare and I settled within. I was able to get lost in the magic of that enormous being.

My whole body buzzed for hours afterwards, and I remembered how much I needed the sea. How much I was magnetised and hypnotised by it.

I am returning to Pembrokeshire, to the sea, where I can submerge my body in the water, submit my mind to it's power.
Because life just feels better with it by my side.

JoJo 

Why I'm Turning My Back On 'Fate'

I used to think that life was somewhat pre-determined. That if I didn't get the job, it wasn't meant to be. If I lost in love, the right person was yet to be found. If I missed the train, it was beyond my control. 

I thought that things were meant to just fall together, and that you should let the universe do it's thing. Now I'm not so sure. 

Maybe I needed to word my CV better. Maybe that love I lost needed a little more compromise, a little less giving up, a little less defensiveness. Maybe I needed to be organised, then I might be halfway to my destination, rather than sitting in the rain, at a train station saturated with the smell of dehydrated urine. 

Now I'm starting to think you have all the control. Not over death or governments or who someone else falls in love with, but with your own life and your own future. It's easy to be inadvertently defeatist, blaming failures on some sort of cosmic order, when actually you could have done things differently to create a different outcome. If I had been more fierce and independent I would have seen a lot more of the world. If I had been less terrified of love I would have felt a lot more. If I had been more brave I might have given myself more opportunities. But instead I have lived safely, protecting my heart and my pride, putting it all down to 'fate'. 

I now refuse to assume my 'fate' is to be underwhelmed by my life. I refuse to blame 'fate' for my heartbreak. I refuse to hold anyone but myself accountable for where I am and how I feel. If you let someone break your spirit, then you are doing all the hard work for them. 

I didn't want to leave Australia. As I was driven to the airport, I felt this innate feeling that it just wasn't right, that it 'wasn't meant to be like this'. But the truth is, I just didn't play my cards right. No-one else played my hand for me. I had all the control.

Now I am home and I have a new set of cards. I'm going to play this hand right. It's going to be outstanding. 

I have the ability to shape my future. You have the ability to shape yours. It's time we all started working on our masterpieces.

Papa Smurf Knows What's Up

All for now,

JoJo

The Tears Begin

It's a warm but overcast morning here in Manly, Australia. I've just waddled back from an early coffee date with my beautiful friend, Ellie, and I find myself with those tickly tears in the backs of my eyes. Waiting in the wings.

It's nine days until I leave for home, you see. It's a terrifying feeling, this one. I've built a life here now - with friends who understand the new version of my self, who have seen me shift and move and transcend into my current state.
When I get home no-one will have this context. Maybe no-one will quite understand it, or me, or us any more.

How am I supposed to fit back into my old life? I'm not the same shape that I was. Shit, I'm not even in the same bloody puzzle.

The last few months have been a truly special time for me. I have explored a bit of this beautiful country. I have laughed until it hurt, almost everyday. I've moved to a busier, more exciting part of town and have been lucky enough to be surrounded by incredible people, who have offered me love and friendship, regardless of my ever-looming expiry date here.

I have found myself in friendships that I genuinely believe will last a lifetime. With people who I feel I was destined to meet. People who have supported me and helped me to heal. Never failing to love me or to offer me a bed for the night when things have been hard.
But more than that. People who see the real me - past the 'I'm okay, everything is fine' pretences. Beyond the self depreciative digs and the distraction techniques. People who have the ability look into my soul, to see all my secrets when they look into my eyes. And when I know that they're onto me, I instantly start to heal.

I know that when I get home everything will be fine. Everything will shuffle and slide back into place eventually. But maybe that's what I'm scared of - returning to the life I left. To feeling cramped and lost and uncertain. To feeling like the world was just going to swallow me up without even leaving a mark.

I want to do something good. I want to leave evidence of my existence. I don't want to feel my fate is to be only vaguely successful. I want to grow in my writing, I want to explore and expose myself to things that can enrich me and inspire me.
I know it's down to me, and that hard work is what leads to such successes, but I often felt I was being washed beneath the waves of the world in the UK. Like London's fiery snarl and Wales' drowning stillness would quietly extinguish me and all my hopes and aspirations.

When I graduated I sat in a hotel room with some of my best friends and we played a game. Someone asks a question - for example - 'who is most likely to become famous?' and then everyone closes their eyes and points at the person they think matches the criteria. Then everyone opens their eyes and you all laugh and it's just great to be alive, isn't it?

We are playing this game and someone says  'who do you think will be the least successful?' (which, to be honest, I was kind of horrified at. Bit of a mood killer don't you think?). So I closed my eyes and pointed to myself. I opened them to see everyone else had pointed at me too.

I laughed it off, but I wanted to cry. Graduation was supposed to be the best day of my life. I'd worked so hard to get there, and now here were all my friends, expecting me to fail. Those people were, and still are, incredible friends to me and I know that there was no malice in their actions, it was just an unfortunate situation. But I think I lost a lot of confidence in that moment. I think I became instantly terrified to fail. And still am. I still wish no-one had asked that sharp question and I still desperately wish I had opened my eyes to a different scenario.

But maybe that confidence will come back in time. Maybe I'll become confident in my writing and my abilities to succeed. Maybe I'll be brave enough to take a risk and maybe that will pay off. Maybe.

Australia has not been the best year of my life. In fact, there have been some very dark times here for me. Times that made me wonder if I'd ever really be happy again. Times that have changed me forever. But it has seen me grow and evolve and toughen up. It's seen me become more independent and resistant. It's seen me learn what it is to 'bounce back', and that, really, there's no 'bouncing' involved - it's more like dragging the limp weight of your body up a cliff.

However, Australia has also brought me love and friendship and adventure. It's brought me excitement and light and happiness. I guess it's brought me exactly what I needed. And I will never forget the kindness of others I have experienced here. It literally takes my breath away to think how god damn lucky I have been to encounter the people I have. I will be eternally grateful to them.

I am sincerely heartbroken to leave, but so grateful that I ever got to  be here.

And the next chapter begins.

All for now,

JoJo 

x

What I Left Behind

It has been over four months since I left the UK. That is quite hard to believe when I say it out loud.

It seems like time has kind of frozen - that if I returned home right now, everything would be as I left it.
I imagine my handsome Dad in the kitchen of his flat in Roath making a beef stew, secretly nibbling on biscuits as the rain throws itself with reckless abandon at the windows.
I imagine my beautiful Mum at the breakfast bar of her house in Tenby, talking to me whilst I pour my cereal or drop tea bags into mugs.
I imagine my nephew staring into my eyes, his own like saucers of never ending love and innocence, his podgy hands and arms held up to me, with a smile spreading across his perfect cheeks.

But the reality is quite different. By the time I get home things will have changed. They already have changed, and I've got over six months before my return.
My Dad is no longer snacking on biscuits but is back into training, and the sun is streaming through the windows in the morning, like a bird spreading it's wings to full span.
My mum has just accepted an offer on her house and is probably starting to pack bits and pieces away into boxes, welcoming in the next chapter of her life. She will be saying goodbye to the home that has housed so many of our everyday yet incredible memories.
My Nephew will have grown inches taller, will have new mannerisms and habits. He will hardly remember me as a physical being, but rather a face on a screen that he is forced to interact with every few weeks. The familiarity that he once associated with me will be so far forgotten by the time I next see him. He will be talking and drawing and doing so much more.

My Grandparents will be a year older, they too might remember a little less or see a little less or hurt a little more, the aches and pains of age slowly but surely growing stronger.

These are the things that scare me the most. The things that I have no control over. The inevitable things that I was forced to consider before I left. The things that didn't stop me from leaving them behind.

And although writing them down (so that they are quite literally staring back at me from the screen) brings that sour taste to my throat and that tingling wetness to my eyes, I know that I have done the right thing in going on my little adventure. It hasn't been easy, but I am really, truly happy now. I have some great friends, and I am starting to see a little more of this beautiful country, that I had no previous interest in before I got here.

I am saving to go to India in August. I will be heading to Rajasthan first, I hope to move around a bit for a month or so and then return to Australia again in October, before flying back home in November.

I can't say that I have loved every second of this journey, or that I would do it all the same if I had another shot at it. But I have found happiness here regardless of the obstacles that have confronted me. And for that, I am very proud of myself.

I miss my family and my truly incredible friends more than I could ever have anticipated, but I know that their love surrounds me and protects me wherever I go.

That's all for now,

JoJo xxx

Paddling Into The Unknown

It seems that 22 is a bit of a learning curve. There's been a lot of goings on this year, both good and bad. There's been a lot of movements, and a lot of big decisions being made.

People are getting engaged, having babies and getting big jobs, Jesus - my big brother got married a few weeks a ago - WHAT THE SHIT?! I don't feel old enough to be witnessing this stuff.

My beautiful nephew

People all around me are making big grown-up choices, shifting their lives and the lives of those around them into new places and perspectives. I quite frankly was not prepared for being shifted in this manner, although I'm sure I will get used to my new positioning. I guess when everyone is growing up around you, it's hard to not hold onto the past. I guess when everyone is growing up around you it makes you realise you've been reluctant to do the same.

It's hard to come to terms with change sometimes, although we all know it is an inevitable and constant part of life. I guess I hadn't really stepped back and looked at it all before, but I've made some big decisions too.

I finally let go of something that had been lurking in my head for years and years, crowding and casting shadows on all of the the good things in there. Something that didn't let me see how happy I was without it, something that kept me pining over it and wanting it. It wasn't that I didn't want to let it go, I just couldn't.

But there isn't space for it in there anymore, it was pushed out by all the beautiful things I've been blessed to have in my life in recent times. And although I was in a kind of mourning for it at first, almost missing the pain it brought me, I can now see all those amazing things so much more clearly.

I've finally let my guard down when it comes to love. The fear of not having control has melted away. The nervousness that came with putting my heart in someone else's hands has become a downright willingness to pass it over. Where I was always apprehensive, I now have a confidence that staggers me. I'm even bloody going to Australia just to keep a hold of it. I'm currently in the process of filling out my years visa and buying my flight out to Sydney to be with my Manfriend, which is a somewhat surreal experience. For the girl who wouldn't consider planning even two months ahead when it came to love, it's a pretty big deal.

So here I am, paddling into the unknown, putting my faith in something invisible and hoping it works out, kind of knowing it will work out.

And so, maybe 22 is a learning curve, maybe it's a scary grown-up time, but maybe it's pretty fucking cool too.

At my Brother's wedding

My Cornish Love Affair

Having spent a week away from the shire, I have returned with a renewed perspective and that lovely bubble of excitement that comes with having discovered somewhere that you instantly fall in love, and feel at home with.

My Manfriend and I arrived in St.Merryn, Cornwall, on Friday at about midday following a 4am start in Tenby. The sun was out and the coast was beckoning.  We went for a surf, me at Treyarnon, a smaller kook-friendly cove and Manfriend at Constantine, where the waves were breaking above slabs of rocks on high tide. It was so nice to be in the water somewhere different, especially where it's a fair few degrees warmer and a hell of a lot clearer. I felt instantly content, catching fun little waves with a few friendly locals and watching the light slowly dim in the warm horizon.

We stayed in a campsite that is really pushing its luck calling itself a campsite. I mean really. Hagrid would not have looked out of place here. In fact there was a man that looked decidedly like a three way cross between a wizard, Hagrid and Father Christmas. Still, that didn't bother me. Something about those rugged, 'roughing-it' places appeal to me largely.

Meeting a young couple who have run away to live in some overgrown field together, and who are so blissfully happy that it is almost visibly seeping and spilling out of them, made me really think about the beautiful synergy of love and simplicity. It's a no brainer really, isn't it?

It's all the extra bits that make love complicated. It's the past and the future and the circumstances that make it hard. It's never the love itself. Love is far too pure to ever infect something. It's the poison of external factors that cause the pain.

This week away made me a mix of contentment and melancholy - a kind of reminiscent drizzle of warmth, mixed with a little regret that it was only a passing experience. But meeting a couple who have come through hard times made me realise how relationships, platonic or romantic, have this incredible ability to bounce back. To hit somewhere dark and cold and hard, and then ricochet back up into the sunlight and the warmth with startling speed.

My best friend Biki and I often argue, in our own little secret code of jibes and subtle mood changes. We get sick to death of each other and each have traits that infuriate the other to the point of wanting to slap each other across the face. But it's normally after we have reached that climax of irritation that our friendship peaks again.

I think this happens in all relationships and friendships, you are so completely blinded by the blurry, dusty frustrations of minor details and little niggles that you can't see what's in front of you. Then, when you get to the top of that mountain, you get a glimpse above those clouds and you see that person's love and kindness, their hilarity, humility and endearing qualities. You knew they were there, but they haven't looked quite so striking in a while. That's when you realise that if you let this person slip out of your life, your view wont be half as beautiful. So, as it's falling down the mountain, building speed with every rotation, you swoop down with all of your energy to catch it, to hold it and to keep it safe. Because you remember how perfect it is after all.



Tryeyarnon Bay

 After five days in beautiful Cornwall, having met some of my Manfriends lovely pals, drinking far too much Cornish Rattler cider, and catching up with the gorgeous Esme from Newquay, I feel a great and unexpected sense of disappointment to be home. Not to be in this house as such, but to be back in the area. That old shadow and heaviness has returned, the one I used to get when I was in college, when I felt like there was so much more, but that I couldn't quite reach it yet. I'm starting to feel suffocated here. It's time for me to move on soon I think. But that's okay, exciting plans are in place.

For the time being I am extremely grateful for my beautiful Mother, who loves me endlessly, unconditionally and relentlessly, she is a good pal of mine and I am so grateful for all that she does. I am grateful for my incredible friends and of course for my gorgeous Manfriend, who still makes me crumble at the sight of him on the regs.

St. Merryn, I will be back. You've got a little piece of me already.

That's all for now

Jojo xxx

I'm a Big, Big Girl In a Big, Big World - And I'm Shitting My Pants.

Decisions - Sometimes they are easy to make, a flippant side-thought that interrupts your newspaper or afternoon daydreams.
Other times they are a lot harder to figure out. Especially when it comes down to you knowing what you want.

These types of decisions can really eat you up inside, churning around in your stomach and your head, pulling at loose fibres of doubt and worry as they go, collecting together and becoming a much bigger beast than you initially suspected them to be. Outsiders may see your decision as straightforward or obvious, but to you it can be a colossal web of dependencies and variables.

I can be my own worst enemy when it comes to these sorts of decisions - the ones that are big but should be fairly simple- my brain works at double speed at the best of times, add a decision and you can at least triple that. I end up looking so far inside my mind that I can't see anything any more, just fuzz.

I am currently faced with a few big decisions. People would suggest I do what makes me happy, but that is ignorance at it's pinnacle. There are always external factors to consider: family, friends and career being just a few. If you fail to consider these factors then you are a selfish, morally bankrupt human being and deserve to be alone and unloved.

I had some advice yesterday, which was to think about the decision for a minute, then forget about it and let my conciousness do the work. I'm finding it hard though - I'm feeling the pressure and weight of it on my back, the niggling scratch of it on my mind and the pressure on the delicate glass of my heart.

I have made decisions in my life that I thought were astronomically important, but these seem to shrink them down to the size of quails eggs in comparison. Maybe I'm magnifying it beyond what is necessary.
I guess I'm very aware of how much of myself I am putting in the line up : my heart, my pride, my glorious naivety to "world-crashing-down-around-me" type feelings. I'm also aware of who else will feel the repercussions of my decisions. That's probably the half of it.

But maybe this is all part of life's cycle, maybe this is a right of passage of becoming a grown-up.

I've never been a scaredy-cat. Never once. But I feel like one right now.

That's all for now, JoJo xxx

Struggle Street

It is eleven months until my proposed leaving date for my year of exploration around the world, and, after having worked seven days a week all through the Summer and now six nights a week through winter, I am still somehow in the depths of a rather bulky overdraft. I understand that having a free overdraft is the best loan I'll ever get and that I shouldn't be stressing about it but I just want to be in the black and to be saving towards something. Negative money doesn't spur me on so much, as I am only working to get back to zero at the moment.

People all around me are off doing exciting things, whilst I'm here making very little progress, feeling a little left behind with it all. Tess is in Tanzania, Vicky has moved to Cardiff starting a new chapter of her life, Snakey is living in France,  the man I like is off doing things in Europe.
I am in New Hedges, with a tip stealing boss and a wetsuit with a hole in the ass. There's something enormously saddening about that.

This week I've been thinking about couples. Couples who are ready to commit. Most of my friends (and ex-boyfriends) will know that commitment isn't exactly my forte. Don't get me wrong, I am very loyal, but I get claustrophobic. I get this itchy feeling that I'm in too deep when I'm only just paddling. I crave freedom, I need air.

It's starting to worry me recently, am I destined to be alone? There have been many wonderful men in my life whom I haven't been ready to commit to, despite being attracted to them and trusting them. Is it something learned?

It seems some people jump from relationship to relationship without a second thought. I have no qualms with that, as they all seem very happy, I just have to really take my time before I can even consider belonging to someone. Maybe that's the problem- that I think of it as possession rather than just being happy with someone. Or, more likely, it's a product of a 'broken home' with divorced parents and a mother who is just a little more than wary when it comes to men. It probably doesn't help that both my dad and brother have pretty dodgy fidelity records too.

Either way, I would like to be able to imagine being with anyone for a long period of time. Because, ultimately, I want that for myself. I want to start a family one day with a man I love, in a house with a mortgage and bills and council tax. It's the in between bit that's the problem.

Maybe it's a matter of it becoming part of me without my noticing. Maybe it is a maturity thing. Maybe I need to grow up a little before commitment becomes a breeze.

I suppose all this has come to mind because there's always been one person I've assigned that role of big commitment to. Now it seems less likely that this will happen- life has gotten in the way and time changes things quicker than the wind in winter.

Things don't seem the same as they were even two months ago, and it scares me to think I've been flippant with something of such magnitude. I have always lived thinking what will be will be. It all happens for a reason. Everything that everyone does will all make sense in the end. But now I'm feeling there are such things as grave mistakes and I have started to understand that regret can haunt people for a lifetime. This will make little sense to lots of you, but anonymity often creates a roundabout way of explaining things.

On a lighter note. I have met someone that I enjoy spending time with, who I can have a real giggle with and who makes me feel beautiful first thing in the morning. That's not a bad find I reckon. Although it would be nice if I could pick someone who stays in the country for longer than a month at a time.

That's the irony of things like that I suppose. Something out there is laughing at me for protecting my heart for so long only to open it up for guaranteed instability. I was sadder than expected saying goodbye today. Took myself by surprise.

In other news I got some freelance work recently, I wrote words for this and really enjoyed it:

In the Moment by Garmin from Garmin EMEA on Vimeo.

I now have some press releases locally to write and work in China- doing website content and blogs etc for a company out there. Which is all very lovely, as exciting media-related jobs in Wales seem few and far between and I need to stay here for cheap rent so I can save for my trip.

So if you know of anyone who wants press releases, ad's, PR, portfolio writing, copy writing or any of that lot doing, give me a thought, eh? Struggling writer and all that. Sounds romantic but is really just a bit skanky. Could do with having at least one pair of jeans/trousers this winter. My pins are getting chilly in shorts.

That's all for now,
Jojo xxx

Life

Hell I'm feeling reflective today. Maybe it's the time of year, being out on the boat everyday, or having seen old friends recently, but I just feel like everything is, after all, okay.  I feel like the sadness and darkness that I've felt in the past has begun to fade and that things are going to come good. That they are already good.
Why is it that some things just suddenly click into place? It became clear today that everything happens and then it's done. Bad things happen and then, eventually, the scars they made begin to fade.

It may seem like a very typical thing for me to say, what with me now crewing on a fishing boat, but life to me seems a lot like the tide: It rises and falls. Sometimes there's loads of fish, sometimes it's a lonely day at sea. Sometimes people are there for you, sometimes they aren't. The tide will go out, but it's a fact that it will come back in, filling the harbour to the brim, the boats all becoming buoyant. And yes, sometimes the tide is so low you'll be trying to wade out to sea for half a mile and you'll still only be in three foot of water, but you'll get there eventually, and the peace of being out there when you arrive will make it worthwhile.

There is a little Buddhist teaching I read, that I have adopted as my life motto; " Samsara is Nirvana". Meaning, the paddling out is all part of catching the wave. The hard times get you to the good times. So there is something to be taken from every shitty day- you keep trudging through, because what else is there to do? You'll make it in the end.

I feel like I'm home. I'm with old friends who make me remember growing up when I see them. They give me my roots. It's as though, without realising it, I needed to be back here to remind me who I am. Some things will never change and there's some great clarity and joy in that.
The last few years have been a blur of moves and houses but not really any home. Being back here seems to give some relief.

I've been single for a year and three months now and I am content with myself in that sense. I don't feel alone. I get to see my friends and go to work and basically do as I please without having to consult anyone else.

Saying that, sometimes I miss the feeling of skin on skin, one of life's purest pleasures. To feel someone else's skin touching yours brings something out of the core of all of us, I think. It's a beautiful thing that there are all these gadgets and shops and clothes, expensive holidays and fabulous restaurants, but that ultimately, it is us, the human race, that bring the most happiness and pleasure to ourselves. The primitive hard wiring still lingers.


I wonder who that next person for me will be, although I'm not in a hurry to meet them- I have a feeling the universe will do as it will regardless of whether I look for them or not. But it's strange thinking about being with someone again. Being so comfortable with someone. Talking to them, lying with them, the excitement that comes with learning things about someone you are falling in love with.

I was reading a book the other day and I learned that the neurons that are fired up in your brain when you feel that sensation of 'love' are enormously similar to those found in people deemed mentally ill. All logic flees and you are, in fact, crazy about someone. I'm not sure if that's creepy or incredible. Maybe both.

You can take no control over who you fall in love with, or when. You can't stop the shitty things in life happening, but good things will come around eventually and it will all fall into place- like it was supposed to go exactly the way it did.

I guess, in my characteristic long-winded way, I'm saying; "How could it be any other way?"
Trevor Hall says it better:


That's all for now,
Jojo xxx

Why Do You Always Want More?

Why do some people want stuff, Just STUFF? Like clothes and shoes and rings and bags?

Does it really make anyone happy for a long period of time?

Sure I bought some vans last week and I love them, when they arrived I was excited and happy. But I find with shopping that feeling doesn't last. It's so easy to get sucked into it all. It's so easy to want more. More of these things that have sell by dates. Things that you'll get bored of.

It's like we've become so addicted to getting presents and gestures and money so we start doing it for ourselves.

But how have we earned this 'treat' and, more to the point, why do we need it?

Clothes aren't going to change you as a person. They aren't going to make you any nicer, or prettier or more intelligent. They will only help construct an image. An image that's been sold to you. An image that a group of people in an office somewhere have cleverly created. Then it's marketed to make you feel like you NEED those cherry coloured jeans or that backless dress that, lets be honest, you'll be bored of after you've worn a handful of times.

And we are so fucking stupid because it doesn't MEAN anything. It only helps create obstacles socially. It only ostracises people. And it's we that are to blame. It's YOU that made you not good enough for that guy. YOU helped create these rules of style and beauty and image.

Well what does it mean when you get some guy over someone else in a club. It doesn't mean you are any better, it doesn't make them any worse. It just makes you part of it all. It makes someone else out of reach to you.

When you lie down naked on a bed with someone it's all gone. You are a blank canvas and no amount of layers of make-up or freshly bought attire can hide you any more. You have to face up to who you are eventually and I want to be proud of that.

I buy clothes sometimes. I like to look nice when I go out. But I definitely don't think I have the addiction that so many people I know have. And addiction seems like a crazy-strong word to use but that's what I think it is.

It happens more in cities I think. Where shops are everywhere and the high street becomes a catwalk. Where people check each other out and eye-fuck on escalators.

I don't want to live like that. And yeah, that probably means someone else will get that guy in the club but I'd rather earn attraction because of who I am and not what I've created.

I get that some people are passionate about fashion. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. It's when it becomes about proving yourself through your outfit that it gets a bit dodgy.

You are enough for anyone in the whole world. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to find someone who loves you. But they are going to fall in love with YOU and not what you're wearing.

Wow. Monster rant.

That's all for now.

Jojo xxx