Category Archives: On Happiness

On Happiness

Love Does Not Need Pockets

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I’ve been absent… again! Despite promises made to myself, resolutions have been falling by the wayside like summer rain… But I’ve been consumed by life and work, and I’m working on something important, something challenging and life-changing, and incidentally longer than War & Peace. A beautiful line in that work stopped me in my tracks yesterday: ‘Love, though, does not need pockets.’ It was in the context of a discussion on the hunt for happiness and meaning, which so resonated with the philosophy here of making the right mark on the wall of the world that it sparked the poet within. So this is just a wee call out from the darkness to let you know that I’m still here, and soon I’ll be back in force. But here’s the piece of poetry in the meantime…

 

Love does not need pockets

A man of wisdom said

When you’re in your burial shroud

You may think you are dead

But what is it you’ve left behind?

Have you made a mark?

Your holidays and fancy cars

They were just a lark

But love you gave and love you sowed

That won’t ever stale

And love you received in return

Goes with you through the veil

(c) 2016 Sara Litchfield

The Year Of Resolve & The Hunt For The Holy Grail

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My hard-fought shot of the elusive Okarito Kiwi

Out on the wild west coast of New Zealand’s South Island, there’s a wee place at the edge called Okarito. It is beautiful, mostly beach and bush, and it hides the Holy Grail – its own species of brown kiwi (smaller than a unicorn but larger than a dragon’s egg), along with a guide who’s actually sanctioned by DOC to help people catch sight of the elusive critter. I was there only a couple of magic days and mysterious nights, but it pretty much summed up the year for me: I was on a mission.

The guided tour to see the country’s most famous resident was fully booked, but never one to say never, I took myself out into the bush in the middle of the night to find one for myself. The maiden voyage saw me venturing out with an elite team of highly-trained explorers (a pair of likeminded souls who fancied the thrill of the mythical chase, highly skilled in the art of Googling a kiwi’s call before braving the dark). The second night, I went solo. It was same, same, but different. Same – in that the kiwi avoided me, not even so much as calling out to tease at it had on the first expedition. Different – in that I’d forgotten I was terrified of possums and had no one to giggle with nervously in the pitch black when they swooped out of the forest to eat me alive (wait, that was the sandflies; the possums stood there and tried to put the evil eye on me. Sneakier than direct attack.)

I’d driven past the sign to Okarito more than once, distracted by the monumental glaciers to its right. But I was so glad I finally found it and its beautiful beach house. During the days, I filled the wait for kiwi O’clock with other things. Like cycling Enid along the empty roads, visiting Andris Apse’s home to see his beautiful gallery and learn his incredible story, climbing the Trig, walking on the beach to watch the sun set behind the headland, and sailing the lagoon.

There were other things to see. Life went on. Life turned up. In the dark, I didn’t just dodge the perilous possums, I saw glowworms blinking in the black, and I could only see them because the lights were out. On the lagoon, I saw the kind of mirrored reflections I thought could only exist in paintings. I took a boat tour with Franz Josef Glacier, Mt Cook and Mt Tasman as a backdrop, and though I didn’t see a kiwi in Okarito, a startling array of other birdlife popped by to say hello, including tui, oyster catchers, black swans & their cygnets, a great white heron and a bunch of bar-tailed godwits. These guys fly about ten days straight from Alaska without stopping or eating just to hang out there – the least I could do was be happy to see them.

And, while I didn’t sight the Holy Grail of mythical creatures, hearing the kiwi call gave me hope. They are out there – fighting outrageous odds, given the invasion of their lands by forces of evil committed to their extinction (that’d be those possums again). Now I know where the sign is. And the guide (whose services I’d recommend, having cornered him in his own home to demand photographic evidence, ending up discussing my quest at length while his cup of tea got cold). I’ll be back.

This time last year, I was down. But I wasn’t out. I’d lost something precious. But I was on a mission. A mission to hunt happiness – that elusive Holy Grail that life’s possums are always trying to do away with. So I didn’t indulge too far my sorrow for that which was gone. I didn’t turn my face only backward to mourn or only forward to search for a distant date when I would feel better and could begin to have a ball again (it was something like May 7th). I turned my face from side to side and looked all around. And even though Happiness didn’t magically, immediately appear, I saw beauty in the moments I did so. Life went on. I went out and lapped it up. I laughed. I faked it for a time, sure. But this year just gone, I fell in love again. I fell in love with the life all around me – and my own life just as it is, looking to no one else to make it amazing except myself. (It helped that the mountains saw snow the likes of which hadn’t been boarded in several seasons.)

This year I have seen lambs genuinely frolicking – hopping and skipping like bizarre ballet dancers. Fish jumping, like funny jack-in-the-boxes. Baby seals paddling, a waterfall their playpen. I have heard tui warbling and kiwi calling, waves lapping and wind howling. I’ve smelt the smoke of campfires and courageous cooking. I’ve tasted salt in the sea breeze and touched sand and snow, rock and rain.

Are you a new year’s resolutions kind of person? I am. And I usually win at them. But last year, I had to start below scratch and resolve just to find some resolve. It’s there if you want to hunt it down – just dig deep.

It’s a new year. A lot of us are looking at fresh starts (whether we wanted them or not). Find your resolve. Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. And don’t just look back or forward – look around you. Appreciate what you see. And see the signs. Take the turns. Hope will be there. And magic might happen.

A moment of reflection in Okarito

A moment of reflection in Okarito

Life Sans Regret

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Queenstown. Seasons change – folk leave. It’s a transient place with transient people, people with one thing among others in common. They live large. They’re larger than life. They go hard, then some go home, or hound it to the next bright light. Others can hack it and hang out. Some keep coming back. But there’s always another adventure round the corner; there’s always something calling. You’ll meet the most amazing people, though keeping hold of them might be a game of catch-me-if-you-can. Perhaps FOMO is the philosophy here, but if you can embrace it, you live life from outstanding day to outstanding day, ride to ride, wave to wave, moment to moment. And wherever you end up in the end, you’ll never forget how it felt to fly…

So here’s one for the thrill-chasers, the moment-makers, the life-livers – the Queenstowners. And hey, who knows, chase a little life yourself, you might see them again.

 

Life Sans Regret

 

I’m a bird, bro

Don’t cage me

 

Things to do

People to see

Shit to learn

Clichés a plenty

 

But if you were gonna see

The things that I’ll see

 

And surf the snow

Ride the water

Hit the dirt

You’d get it with me

How it is just to be

 

Be here, be now

Be free

 

And to all the broken hearts

I’ll leave in my wake

Don’t angst out too much

I’m not a mistake

 

Enjoy me right now

And just don’t forget

Wherever I’ve gone

Whatever the scene

I’ll live sans regret

 

Life on the drop-off

With GCs I’ve met

 

No borders, no boundaries

No fun with a ban

Snow’s sweet for a season

Ride hard while you can

 

(c) 2015 Sara Litchfield

Happiness Is…

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Most people who know me (and, at this juncture, many people who don’t know me at all) have an inkling that I’ve got a lot of love for Instagram.

Getting my first touch-screen phone with a passable camera (which only happened last September – judge away!) made it possible for me jump on the bandwagon, and I’ve been a happy addict ever since. During a darkish time, it motivated me to find a bit of beauty in every single day – it got me outdoors in search of moments I didn’t just want to memorise, but play with and publish with a line that would remind me of what it really looked like, how it really felt.

Social media sometimes gets a bad rap. We’re saturated with images, memes, gifs… smart-ass comments, shares and over-shares… But you can’t deny that amongst the plethora of posts out there, some can be provoking. Some can be show-stopping. Some can reach out a hand and hold your heart, even lift it, spiral it to new heights.

Often, I’m in search of a smile. Often, I have one person in mind in whom I think a post might provoke that delightful lilt to the lips. And that makes sharing worth it for me. It’s not about courting your envy or inspiring your awe – it’s about inviting you in. It’s me shouting a greeting: I wish you were here. It’s beautiful. I wish you could see what I see.

So, since I’m back sharing here, I thought I’d invite you to smile at a recent, in-progress Instagram series of mine: Happiness is…

One thing to note: They’re not really pictures of snowboarders or mountains or lakes I’ve seen or book I’ve written. They are posts about passion. Whether with words or phone-photography, I’d love to provoke someone somewhere to find a moment of passionate engagement with something, with anything. A moment that makes them pause, that makes them smile, that makes them think: Happiness is… this.

11402678_10101337395520820_9056833985631954804_nHappiness is: Snow, sunshine, stories, and overhearing conversations that make you smile

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Happiness is: Driving leisurely, singing loudly, pausing frequently.. because it’s so damn beautiful turning corners is a hazard

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Happiness is: Crashing a roadtrip to ride new snow

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Happiness is: Playing out of bounds

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Happiness is: When you make the mountain your office and your snowboard your escape

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Happiness is: Being published. Won’t ever get bored of seeing my novel on a bookshop shelf 🙂

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Happiness is: When the cloud clears, and you remember you can fly

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Happiness is: Snowboard on, earphones in, hangover gone

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Happiness is: Riding to the beat of your racing heart

What is your happiness? Where is your happiness? Find it; treasure it; share it.

Follow me on Instagram: Sara Litchfield

An Open Letter To A Future Me

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Friends and neighbours, I’ve been absent. I’ve been around, about and everywhere, and I have been writing. There are plenty exciting project things in the pipeline. We’ve a book launch tomorrow for a start! But I’ve not been here. And I’ve probably not been round yours so much lately either. I’m sorry. But I’m going to change that. I’m coming back. I’m going to be more present. Recently, the offline world has all been very distracting. I’ll tell you all about it later. Madness on the mountain; exhilaration on the ice; rides in cars and boats and planes. And all sorts of interesting, all-consuming work in the spaces in between.

What to share with you after so long? Perhaps just a piece of me. My writers’ group challenge this week was to write an open letter to yourself – yourself ten years hence. A step through the looking glass…

———–

Dear Me,

I hope you have not changed. I hope you still have no regrets. I hope you still carry a big heart and wear a big smile. I hope that whatever hurt has come your way, you have learnt from it, laughed at it, and sent it on its way.

Perhaps a letter at your end would warn me against life’s foes. Perhaps you would look back at my lost battles, my dips and trenches, my grazed knees, and shake your head. Perhaps you would say, ‘You shouldn’t get so attached.’

But let me let you know – I am happy. I am full. I am boundless.

And so you cannot say to me, ‘Do not get attached.’

That is who I am. That is what I do.

I fall everyday. For places, people, things. For moments. For memories. For little pockets of wonder in the jacket of life.

I tether myself to them with an open cord – I open my heart wide. I cast a net to bring beauty and brilliance to my side and I drown in it with delight.

I cannot do ‘no stings attached’ – I can only make pretend. I am a ball of twine. But I like to think the good kind. I don’t tie people into knots; I wrap myself up and present myself to them with a bow. I am the string on a helium balloon, inviting them to fly with me.

I love people. I can fall for someone in a week, make fast friendships in a weekend. People leave marks on my soul. I can tell a stranger my hopes and dreams. My innermost everything is an open book. I crave connection, affection, to read the story of someone’s life and invite them to be a highlight in my own. It makes my story that much richer, that much more of an adventure. I will love you if you let me.

I hope you have not changed. I hope you still have no regrets. I hope you still carry a big heart and wear a big smile. I hope that whatever hurt has come your way, you have learnt from it, laughed at it, and sent it on its way.

Sincerely,

Me

————-

What would you say to yourself ten years hence, or ten years ago? Everything you do today is the gift of a memory given to a future you. Make it a good gift. 

There And Back Again – Finding Direction In 2015

Sydney Harbour Bridge, Midnight 31/12/14

Sydney Harbour Bridge, Midnight 31/12/14

Happy new year! Here we are in 2015 and I hope it’s a wonderful one for you all! The festive road trip has finished and I’m back in Adelaide with much more movement to look forward to. And who knows where I’ll end up? I certainly don’t.

But that’s not a bad thing. A steady state has its comforts and attractions, but life has been a wonderful whirlwind since I left London three and half years ago, and the volatile roller coaster doesn’t seem about to stop. Coming to the beginning of a new year and looking back as well as forward – life has more highs than lows. Sometimes you just have to seek them out. Sometimes you need to take a shovel.

All I know is that it was a brilliant idea to end up in Sydney to see out the old year and in with the new – with the biggest of bangs. I adore fireworks and want to live my life like one – going off in all directions, popping, fizzing, delighting, colourful, crazy and illuminating. It doesn’t matter which way you’re going as long as you’re causing a ruckus on the way, filling as many lives as possible with light, laughter and love.

Many people will have so much they want to achieve this year, having achieved so much already – best of luck with it. Just don’t forget to stop, look around you, smell the roses, watch the sunsets, notice others, and leave the people you pass the happier for having known you. Strive as much as you like, but enrich those around you as well as yourself. Sing and dance, but invite others to add their voices and join the foxtrot. Put being plentiful in the soul before the pocket, and share.

Technically, ’tis the eleventh day of Christmas (who knew the twelve days start rather than end on Christmas day?!). So here’s a parting gift from my lovely friend and wonderful illustrator’s collection. As the familiar festive sights and scents fade away for another year, remember to keep the spirit of Christmas around and enjoy the whole twelve months ahead giving, loving and hoping. Everyone will have a better time for it.

What do you hope for this year? I hope it finds you.

Eleven Pipes Piping

(c) 2013 NKW-Illustration. All Rights Reserved.

* * *

Looking for something new to read this year? Enter the world of The Night Butterflies and join the search for hope amidst horror…002.5_Night Butterflies

30 Observations On Turning 30

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Last week, it was my birthday. And I wasn’t where I’d planned to be, because I was no longer with whom I’d planned to be with (hence hopping over the water for a while). But the best of it was made for me, with a handmade surprise mad hatter’s birthday breakfast tea party (just amazing – pics below!) and then a trip to a beautiful winery for a delicious, long lunch with much wine. My friend here has taken cheering me to heart and single-handedly saved what otherwise could have been a day of sorrowing. I also received several touching presents and cards that lifted my heart.

I’ve never been down around my birthday. I love to celebrate, and a number’s just a number after all! When I think of some of the things that have happened by the time I’ve turned this one: releasing myself from an occupation of reluctant accounting, starting my own business, travelling the world, publishing my own book, meeting the people I’ve met and seeing the sights that I’ve seen – I can say I’m happy with how I’ve got here.

So, to celebrate having turned thirty, here’s a list of thirty observations I’ve had upon doing so, in the order that they came to me.

1. Who doesn’t love a list?

2. Don’t heed the snake within (& that’s a sneak peek quote from my current NaNoWriMo work in progress, fantasy novel Luminosa).

3. If it is at all possible, find something in any given situation to laugh at.

4. It’s always tea time.

5. ‘Tis better to catch on late than never.

6. Smile at everyone and see what happens.

7. Patience is a virtue, but the really, really hard-to-find kind.

8. No matter how low you feel, someone’s suffering more in Game of Thrones.

9. Persevere.

10. See beauty everywhere you look.

11. I love books. But I can appreciate the Kindle.

12. Friends are treasures; guard them.

13. If something’s not okay, try and try and try to make it better.

14. It is better to love.

15. Never take a good shower for granted.

16. Be bold.

17. You can move all over the place, but it’s where you’re at inside that matters.

18. Say what you think; sometimes you’ll be surprised at the support from unexpected corners.

19. If you can’t help but lose something, remember it fondly.

20. People are kind.

21. Sending & receiving postal love changes the value of a stamp into something priceless.

22. Thirty years is a long time (I never said they’d all be meaningful).

23. Keep having adventures.

24. You can’t control what you can’t control. But you can control your occupation, your location and your outlook on life.

25. Regret as little as possible.

26. If something ain’t sitting right, alter it.

27. It’s possible to write 50,000 words in 30 days, whatever else is going on.

28. You might not know what’s next, but there’s probably something good involved.

29. Anything is possible.

30. Be you.

How do you feel about birthdays? Raise a glass with me and be merry, if you haven’t already. There’s nothing wrong with getting older and wiser. 

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Off with their heads!

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Mad hat

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Drink me

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Eat me

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Down the rabbit hole

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Cheshire Cat

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Curiouser and curiouser

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Open me

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Welcome to Wonderland

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Six impossible things before breakfast

The Wonder Of Wedding

1527140_10101012401072300_6781860170984257039_nLove is patient, love is kind…

Apologies for my absence, friends and neighbours. I’ve heard tell that the last month has flown by as though only a fortnight – it certainly has for me – and that must stand my excuse.

So much has happened in that time, including an other-worldly amount of transit, which I won’t go into, for fear of frightening you with the violence of my language.

Suffice to say, I’ve been around the world, it feels ten times over. I visited Singapore & went home to England, trekked up to Scotland, over to Wales, and even hopped across to Italy – all to bask in family, friendship and catchups – I’d not been back that way in two years.

But the highlight – that was a wedding. Today, back on kiwi soil, I’d like to tell you a love story.

You may remember, in the michaelmas of 2004, I went up to Cambridge to read theology. There I met a crowd of A-Staircase folk in my fresher’s term with whom I became fast friends. One wee group of us became referred to in and amongst ourselves as the bunnies.

Two of these bunnies, both studying history, both musically talented, both the most loyal and lovely of people, fell in love. There was laughter, joy, tea and cake (gatherings galore in Juliet’s room), and, of course, as life often holds, some tears (I once dropped Jonny’s birthday cake in the courtyard and cried). But, together, we flourished.

There was nothing quite like coming back together ten years on, convening where it all began and heading to the chapel to see these two bunnies take their vows.

Vows are a solemn affair, but life is full of lightness, and that was the overriding emphasis I took from the day. The world can be cruel, but it is worthwhile. Life can be spiteful, but it can be beautiful. It’s proven when two worthy people find their soul mate in each other and discover the happiness inherent in their togetherness.

I am not religious, but coming together to celebrate faith, hope and love for my friends and between my friends was certainly an experience to lift the spirit. I hope everyone experiences this kind of wonder.

Perhaps you may find this a strange post for me to write right now when I tell you my own love may be lost; when I tell you my days coming back are a little dark and lonely at the moment; that sometimes I feel as though everything’s a bit hopeless, especially when I see the news.

But I have been in the presence of energy, light and liveliness. I’ve held delight, loved it, appreciated it, not taken it for granted for one moment. Life one day will be wholly good again and I have no regrets.

I have seen love; I have known it. It is better to have loved and lost than not have loved at all, don’t you agree? At the same time, I’m happy to dance for those whose love everlasts. The important thing is that there is love in the world – it’s a wonder the way we can come together. In defiance of all the bad.

Jonny & Juliet – thank you for the inspiration your love and union brings. Thank you for making me dance with joy. May your dance last forever.

Don’t Forget To Feel Alive

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Sunrise over Arrowtown

What a week it was. Partner-in-crime’s birthday was Wednesday. Tuesday night, friends gathered for dinner & drinks. I had a lovely Skype catch-up with an editor friend before joining the crowd. On the one hand, I was designated-drivering but, on the other, I had fried chicken, so overall I was winning. Fun times. Then a new arrival said something that spun me about a bit. “Wow, Sara doesn’t look stressed!”

Now, I’d had a haircut. And this party-time – Tue night & Wed day – had been locked in the diary as un-negotiably non-work time, so I was pretty relaxed. But this gave me pause.

I’ve been trying for a while now to cultivate a blog full of hope & happiness, living a life full of the same. Obviously, all sorts of anti-fun things happen – but it’s generally possible to put a positive spin on them and find the silver-lining. At the same time, I’ve been building up an editing business, going through the publishing process (don’t talk to me about rewrites right now), holding down an accounting job while freelance accounting for a fish&chip shop and a charitable trust on the side, and participating in two writers’ groups. And moving house several times. I’ve had to forgo the badminton season this year but am still hoping to get some snowboarding in before a trip back to the UK in August.

In summary, I’ve been busy. And, even though I know that I procrastinate, and I know that there are days I’m not as productive as I should be, and that there are days when I’m not creative in the slightest, and that I’m envious of about a hundred other people who seem to be perfectly simultaneously juggling and balancing a hundred successful plates at the same time (as well as having a family to feed for gad’s sake!)… I find myself thinking about work/WIP. all. the. time. I fear that I’m getting a reputation as ‘the one who only works.’ This is distressing to someone once known as ‘the one who is always out.’ I suffered enduring FOMO back in my city days and never missed anything that might be remotely *fun* (or even a second cousin to fun. Twice removed).

I’m definitely living a more staid life. Apart from anything else, I lost the ability to cope with a hangover somewhere between Asia & Australia. But, however much work I’m doing, however ambitious I’m being – I’m still having fun.

Last weekend, I went up to Auckland for a reunion with some school-mates and we watched England lose to the All Blacks at Eden Park. I got to have the teeny-tiny donuts I’ve missed since the world cup.

On Wednesday, I skydived from 15,000 feet, free falling for 60 glorious seconds that felt like forever. It was beautiful up there. I sprung the jump on partner-in-crime as a surprise birthday present with great success, getting right to the drop zone before he suspected.

We then went to the birdlife conservation park and met kiwis for the first time. I’ve been desperate to see them in the wild, but it’s not that easy. Fun fact – they are the only bird that have evolved to have their nostrils at the tip of their beak rather than the base. They also mate for life, which pleases me.

On Saturday, I got up at a quarter to five. In the *morning* (it actually wasn’t my idea). We hiked up a mountain in the dark with our housemate to watch the sun rise (it did). And it was heart-stoppingly stunning. It made me happy to be exactly where I am, doing everything I’m doing. Like all of the above, it made me feel alive. And happy to be so.

Are you a recovering FOMO-fiend? Do you find work / your current projects overwhelming your life sometimes? Don’t forget to feel alive. No time is wasted time if you’re doing something that brings a smile to your or someone else’s face. 

The Greatest Gift

P1030196‘Every gift from a friend is a wish for your happiness’ – Richard Bach

The last Best Present Ever that I received is Enid (my bike). Yesterday, the above arrived in a package from England. A leather-encased professional writer’s journal, branded with my logo and containing a beautiful, hand-drawn sketch of The Royal Courts of Justice in London and an elegantly crafted card full of warm and wonderful words. Where do I even start?

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Some of you may recognise the masterly hand of my illustrator, Nicki Whetstone. I read a blog post by Kelly Roberts recently that really gave me pause – its message was about appreciation. As I wrote in a comment to the post, ‘I should definitely be taking a moment – lots of moments – to appreciate the people who support me and are there for me and actually Do give back. Every day. Like the partner who has to listen to me moan about everyone else. And who takes the brunt of it when other people put me in a stressy, frustrated place. To one of my best friends back home, who fits in illustrating for me alongside the ridiculous hours she works and gets me excited about our projects. To the dozen beta readers who are reading my novel and providing me feedback, just to help me make a better book.’ That evening I read my partner-in-crime a list of things I love about him. And I planned a postcard to my illustrator friend. I received my present before even having a chance to write, never mind send it. So on top of doing everything that makes her one of my topmost appreciated persons, she then goes over and above in showing her appreciation for me – I’m just humbled.

I’m lucky to own more than one gift that has blown me away. They’ve done so not just because of what they are but because of what they mean. The thought and execution that have gone into them mean that I matter to someone. That I am valued. I only hope that my own gifts and words and actions make my friends feel the way I’m so often made to feel.

The greatest gift is friendship. And I strive to be worthy of the friendships I am blessed with. It’s friendship and love that make my life one of happiness and fulfilment. And I can’t even begin to express my gratitude for that.

What’s the greatest gift you’ve ever gotten? The greatest you’ve ever given? Take a moment today and tell someone how much you appreciate them – that can be a gift in itself.