Dear readers

I'm afraid this has to start as a bit of a confessional... The last diary I sent didn't exactly lie, but it didn't tell the whole truth. See, for the past three weeks I've been in London but couldn't let you know via this diary as one of the reasons for my visit was to surprise my father for his 60th birthday, which I did, he was, and it was lovely! But now I'm sure that those of you who had no idea I'd even been in London will be thinking, 'Humph, that's nice of her, she didn't even call or let me know she was around!'. If you're one of those, HUGE APOLOGIES, but, due to the other reasons I was coming back, which will all become clear as you read on, I knew it was going to be even more whirlwind than last time and I wouldn't have much time and didn't want to stress myself out with my usual pack-as-much-in-to-a-ridiculously-tight-timeframe-as-possible. See... I must be learning!!! :-)

So, if you can forgive me for not being in touch, and read on, I'll be able to explain... My last diary took you almost, but not quite, up to my last day in Dahab. A few fairly hectic days buying enough pet food to keep my babies from starving while I was away (not that Michelle wouldn't move heaven and earth to look after them if it did run out!), sorting out the house, work and other stuff, and of course all my bedouin friends wanting to invite me to Ramadan breakfasts every day... it was my usual stressy me. The fact that I'd also decided to invite all the bedouins round for a Ramadan breakfast before I left to say goodbye and thank them, didn't help. I wanted to invite them all together not only to keep the work to a minimum, but also to try and bring Shayma and her family closer again as she'd told me that she no longer speaks to them since moving back in with Azouz, her husband. I anticipated that I was cooking for about 12 people, including kids, and with Michele's help, spent around 10 hours preparing, chopping, washing, cooking - humous, foul (bean puree) both of which I prepared from scratch by soaking the beans overnight and then cooking for what seemed forever! A vegetable bake, a pasta bake, a green salad, bread, and then mangos for dessert. With Ramadan the food has to be served at 5.15pm precisely, and I guess they're all pretty hungry having not eaten or drunk anything all day. However, I wasn't prepared for the complete communal swoop on the food that did actually happen. For a start, they seem to have invited all possible strands of their distant family, including mothers, brothers, husbands, aunts etc that I had never met in my life and who didn't even acknowledge me! So I was feeding closer to 20 rather than the 12 I'd planned for. Having been cooking since 9am, I'd collapsed at 3pm for an hour's nap, and over slept, meaning I'd forgotten to put the veggie bake on, so it wasn't ready at 5.15pm. Normally, you'd think, oh well, doesn't matter, they can start with humous, foul and bread and then have the other stuff as the main course. Not so....! As soon as I brought the pasta out, it was a frantic, 'Sara, give me this, Sara, give me that,' and everyone piled up their own plates with as much pasta as possible irrespective of whether it would go round to feed everybody. So the veggie bake then came out, not quite finished, but cooked enough to serve. But they didn't seem to like the cheese sauce, so that didn't prove the hit I'd hoped it would and literally, within 20 minutes of arriving, and before I'd even managed to sit down and serve myself any food, some of them had finished, and left!!!! As Michele said, 'dine and dash' - fast food bedouin style! I was still in shock from the sheer noise, amount of people, amount of demands, speed at which they'd all eaten, when one of the women asked me to pour some Sprite into a cup for her daughter. Which I did, and promptly asked all the other kids and their mums if they wanted some. Maude (french canadian friend) and her egyptian husband, Wael were also there, and Wael started laughing. I'd noticed the bedouins all talking among themselves while I'd been offering and pouring the Sprite, but have learned to just get on with what I'm doing around them. Apparently though, they were all completely outraged that I was looking after the children and their mothers and hadn't offered the men anything. Living in their country, I did serve them, grinning to myself about the situation, although by that stage, quite frankly, after all the work, serving them all at once and not even having had the chance to eat anything myself yet, I really thought they could have served themselves. Funny how our etiquette expects women and children to come first and over here it's the other way round.

On my last evening in Dahab we had a special yoga dinner at a new Italian restaurant in town called 'Dai Pescatori'. It's right on the beach up at the far north end of town and unless you knew it was there, you wouldn't know it was there, if you see what I mean! Anyway, it's a real gem of a place. Totally chilled, no passing traffic, a beautiful menu, with proper italian food - it's owned by a couple; he's half italian, half egyptian and she's sudanese. Anyway, not only do they have the most divine italian food, but - get this girls - there's a boutique inside selling handmade clothes, handbags, jewellery and furnishings, all from Sudan! Pasta, tiramisu, cappuccino - oh, and a bit of retail therapy. What a fabulous idea! Having planned to do a bit of a 'dine and dash' myself as I still wanted to buy things for early Christmas presents, I ended up sitting on the beach and chatting and laughing away with my girlfriends until about 1 in the morning! What a great last evening! It certainly beats our girls night out at the other italian restaurant a few weeks ago where we were asked to leave because we were laughing too much - at 10.30 at night. Oh well, they don't have to worry about me going back and having fun there again - I've found a new favourite hangout!

Earlier that day, Etneen, one of my little cats, was behaving rather strangely, running away from me rather than schmoozing round my legs for my attention as she usually does. I put it down to her 'funny half hour' which most cats have and left it at that. However, then next day, as I was waiting for my taxi, she was again behaving rather oddly, hiding behind the bin in the kitchen when all the other cats were having a love-in on my bed, which she is normally in the middle of. I went to talk to her and had a feeling that something was wrong - and then I saw a perfectly round open wound at the base of her tail just to the right of her spine - the same size as a cigarette. She was really distressed and obviously in pain - and my taxi was arriving in five minutes. I can only surmise as to where it came from, and don't particularly want to dwell on it as it'll make me sad and angry. I just had enough time to put some disinfectant on it and give her a cuddle and just about manage to bring her back to her normal relaxed, cuddly, chewy (she nibbles my fingers) self, and then I had to go. A quick indian chai on the beach with my friends, seeing the two puppies I'd rescued playing together, which was great, and then off to the airport in Sharm and goodbye to the sunshine for three whole weeks :-(

Amazingly Alberto was booked on the same flight, so we met up at the airport, and caught up on all the gossip from the past month of so when he'd been living in Sharm working on liveaboard dive boats to earn a bit more money before heading off for his next adventure - a few weeks in London then Spain for Christmas and after that who knows... It was lovely to see him again and hear about his adventures - despite everything that happened when he moved out of my house, we're still really good friends, and I love his company (and of course he's pretty easy on the eyes too!).

I arrived in Burnham at my parent's house late on Thursday evening - Daddy wasn't due home until Friday morning, so I had to get up early-ish to be ready to surprise him. He came home around midday and I was hiding in his office. I heard Mummy telling him that he had an urgent fax that he should go an look at, but he didn't seem that interested - I had visions of sitting in there waiting for him for hours. But luckily Mummy used her powers of persuasion and so he finally walked in, and then stood, flabbergasted, and probably unsure of what was going on, staring at me for a good few seconds, until he clicked on what was going on. He seemed truly delighted - which was good as I'd been a bit concerned that the surprise might be a bit too much for his 60-year old heart! So, a lazy day pootling, and just catching up with each other, spending time together - and then watching him fall asleep in the armchair in the afternoon - bless!

The weekend is all a bit of a blurr now - I went to see Jo, Mike and their kids, Charlie, George and Alice (my goddaughter) in the afternoon and spent an amusing couple of hours playing with George and Alice as Charlie was out at a friend's house. Amazingly I won the game of croquet we were playing in the garden - I say amazingly as my hand-eye coordination is famously pratically non-existent and kids are always really good at these kind of things!!! Then I announced that I was going to jog home (about a mile) and George and Alice asked if they could come with me. I expected therefore a bit of a walk/trot all the way back, but with their dog lead to keep them together, they ran all the way!!! Alice is only 6 and George 8, so I was so impressed that their little legs carried them all the way - and then it dawned on me just how unfit we become as adults as we get bogged down with work and responsibilities, and actually I should have been more amazed that I'd made it, not them!!! Jo came to pick them up as we were doing our stretches and drinking squash in the kitchen and then I had to get dressed to take Mummy and Daddy out for dinner in Burnham's one smart restaurant, The Contented Sole, which was a really lovely evening.

Sunday Daddy had invited his friends over for drinks so I spent the morning getting everything ready - cheese, biscuits, pork pie, bottles of wine. It was a typical Campbell spread (older generation!) with not a single soft drink in sight, so I popped to the shops to stock up in case any non-drinkers dared to show their face in Burnham!... And then about 40 people descended on us. It was loud and it was all about boats, so Mummy took herself off to bed half way through, and I retreated to the office to do a bit of work. Daddy, as usual had done his bit to fix me up with any of the eligible, single sailors - not that I'm not necessarily interested, but I don't think I'm ready to move to Burnham and talk boats all day long just yet!!! It was a lovely day and then I helped a rather worse-for-wear Daddy clear up so that Mummy could come down to a relatively normal kitchen once more. A few people were interested in coming out to Dahab, including a 65-year old biker friend of my father, and a couple who did their PADI courses this summer with Johan, one of the guys who took one of the puppies just a few weeks ago - small world!!

And then goodbye relative sanity (?) of Burnham, hello London as I headed down for a week of work, study and coping with the tube! All in all it was a good week, pretty balanced, the highlight being my meeting with the Multiple Sclerosis Society's events team and agreeing to do PR for all their events in 2006 (I've done PR for their Bigfoot event - a 50 mile hike through the British countryside over three days - for the past two years), closely followed by a meeting later that same day with my German internet security client, agreeing to end the contract. One in, one out - how about that for balance?!?! And I got the one I want, and got rid of the one I don't - perfect. I spent quite a lot of time going over the anatomy and physiology (A&P) for the massage course I would be doing the next week (starting to see why I didn't have much time to meet people?!?!) and also met my new tenant, as Livs and James have now moved out of Kingham Close and into their new pad in Ewell, in Surrey. Chris, as he's called, seems like a lovely, relaxed and sensible kind of guy. His girlfriend lives just round the corner, with a very good friend of mine, Sarah, who I used to work with at CHA. So, my mind put to rest about whether my flat would be looked after, I could get on with the rest of everything, which included a yoga workshop I'd arranged for my London students. Again here the universe kicked in to make sure everything turned out just perfectly. It all stated out pretty badly - my iPod, with all my yoga music, packed up, on the day that I had chosen a yoga set that needed particular songs and mantras as part of the set, so I dashed out into the street in full yoga whites and turban to hail a taxi - goodness knows what the driver must have thought - and whizzed over the Wendy's to pick up a CD with some generic yoga music on it, at the same time totally changing the yoga set and meditations I'd planned to teach as I didn't have the right music to teach what I'd planned to. Then the traffic was bad and quite a few people were late. So, over half an hour after the scheduled start time, we all settled down, to calm down and bring ourselves out of the hassle of London traffic and dodgy unreliable technology, into the present, into ourselves and into a beautiful state of peace. As I said, the universe created what everyone needed and I think the set I'd planned to teach was more physically demanding than most would have wanted - they all seemed a bit frazzled - so what I ended up teaching really seemed like the right thing after all. In the relaxation at the end I watched this group of beautiful women lying peacefully on the floor, just being and felt so privileged to be doing what I do. It felt really special to be there, with them and sharing that experience with them. After the class most of us went for dinner together and so had a chance to catch up on the gossip a bit more before all heading our weary but happy ways home. One piece of news, which really filled me with joy, is that Claire, the mother of Sarah, one of my very first students, who started doing Kundalini yoga with me in Sadhana, has signed up to do the teacher training programme with Darryl and Gur Dharam, who I studied with! How magical!

Another bonus of being in London was finally catching up with Tristan. Those of you with a good memory will remember that he was my flat mate when I first moved into the house back in April. Unfortunately he decided he couldn't afford to stay so went back to the UK to get a 'proper job' - which I'm pleased to say he's now binned again and is dossing around in Brighton and London, having a great time (a small recent inheritance is helping the cause, I believe!). It was really lovely to see him, although funny to see how the gorgeous tanned, blonde, semi-naked guy I used to bum into in the mornings has turned into a dark brown-haired, pale-skinned, bundled up but of course still gorgeous Brit-bloke! The combination of London and the weather really doesn't help us to look our best, does it!?!

Anyway, then it was back to Burnham for a wedding. Jonny, who I've known pretty much forever (his sister is the mother of Charlie, George and Alice), was getting married to Lynne, with whom he has a bouncy, huge baby, Jack. My first responsibility of the day however, wasn't to get to the ceremony on time - oh no! Jo and Mike, the kids' parents were bridesmaid and usher respectively and had to leave early so I offered to get the children ready! Having minimal experience in child care, I must admit I was a little bit nervous, but it all went remarkably smoothly - the boys looked so smart in their little chinos, jackets and ties (which thankfully I'd remembered how to tie!), and Alice, in her floaty white number looked like a little angel - or a mosquito, as her father referred to her! Undoing the million plaits that Jo had done in her hair the night before to make it crinkly was a bit of a drama, but we made it, all present and correct, and I must admit that I felt rather proud of myself! Who knows, maybe one day I'll get to do it on a daily basis on my own little offspring... Enshallah.

As my visits to Burnham have been sporadic at best, I've lost touch with a lot of people, so it was great to catch up with some real blasts from the past. Burnham was a kind of bubble when we were growing up and there was plenty of, erm, experimenting, among the group. So to see some of the boys I'd considered boyfriends, or even more shocking the little boys I'd thought were cute and had taken under my wing when I was in my early teens, now gorgeous grown up men, many with wives and children, was a bit peculiar, but great fun! Sadly there have been quite a few divorces already among the group, which I find rather shocking considering most are only in their late-twenties-early-thirties still. But I guess that's the way of the world now...

And then on to the final leg of this mammoth journey - the massage course. I was totally excited about it and really wanted to get going. The course was structured so that we had theory in the mornings and practical in the afternoons, which meant we all had to sit still and behave while our hands were itching to get nice and oily and practice on someone else in the group. Overall it was a fun week, but I had some reservations about the teaching style and how much we actually learned during the course. It seemed to be more a case of the tutors talking AT us all morning (we weren't allowed to ask questions - which I find a seriously dubious method of teaching!) and us having to resign ourselves to going away and learning it on our own once the course is over. And while the afternoons were the practical bit, we actually only got to run through a full body massage once! It wasn't until we got to the end of the course that I could put the whole picture together and realised that they'd squiched the practical and theory down so much so they could spend the last couple of days selling us other courses, when really we could have been practicing, or running through the theory in a less stressful, more interactive and therefore more effective way. So, now I've got a mountain of theory to get through, and am hoping that the offers of bodies to massage will be plentiful in Dahab so I can learn the routine and perfect my techniques! All in all the week was fun, but the best bit was by far the other people on the course with me - a totally mixed bunch but all really lovely.

I received some incredibly sad news a couple of days into the course. One night I had a bad dream about my animals so sent Michele a text message asking if they were alright. She sent me a text message saying the Blue and Tintin had eaten poison and died. I think I was in shock, and probably still am to a certain extent, as I'm still in the UK and haven't been able to really appreciate that they're gone. I cried a lot that day and can't say that much of the course went in, but then I decided to put it to one side to focus on the course and save my grieving and anger until I get back and see their graves. I keep thinking about Tintin though, and how, despite having a huge frame and being by far the largest, heaviest of my cats, he still managed a very silky, sexy walk, and had the silliest, tiniest miaow. And how, when I picked him up, every time he'd manage to twist himself around mid-air to make sure he was facing me and could put his paws around my neck to give me a hug. And his big round eyes and beautiful soft fur, by far the softest of them all. And Blue and his peculiar eating habits - he'd share my fruit juice with me in the mornings and loved to eat mangos and grapes with me too. He was just super-cuddly, and in the last few days before I left, seemed to get even cuddlier - maybe he sensed that I was leaving or he was just getting even more trusting and attached. I will miss them both so much and will find it hard to accept their deaths - so meaningless and pointless. Thankfully, before I left I had been planning to write a piece about the way animals are treated for MIX Magazine in Sharm, and the loss of Tintin and Blue, as well as a few friends' dogs before I left, will be a real motivation to make it a really powerful story. I'm also wondering whether I can get a film crew involved in making some kind of documentary... If any of you have any ideas or contacts, let me know!

And the animal heartache doesn't end there. Yesterday I found out that Etneen is seriously ill with some kind of flu-like illness. Michele is doing her best to feed her and give her water, and Maude is giving her injections of antibiotics, and they have isolated her from the other animals to hopefully stop them catching whatever it is. But I can't help feeling so helpless and useless over here, wishing I were there. I lay awake all night last night seeing her lying on her own in the bathroom, sick and weak and I just wanted to reach out and stroke and hug her. Hopefully Michele and Maude will take her to the vet today and she will slowly start to get better. I couldn't bear to have said goodbye to six cats and come back to only three.

But equally, I also realise that this is just life showing its full colours. Life can't just be good. Good can't exist as a concept on its own unless it has bad to contrast itself against. There is so much good in Dahab, which is why I have chosen to live there. I've become aware of the bad sides to it too, as I've seen the cruelty to animals and seen friends lose their pets through poisoning. But this is my first experience of it directly. I know Michele is struggling with it - she likes life to be always sunny, always happy and finds the bad stuff almost too painful to acknowledge - I sometimes get the feeling she buries her head in the sand. I keep saying it - life gives us the lessons we need to learn and it seems that she's getting lessons in life's darker side by the bucketful while I'm away. I wish I could be there to comfort my animals and support her, but this is the way it's turned out. Perhaps my lesson is trust and letting go. I know it's an experience that neither one of us is enjoying right now, but which will make us stronger and wiser if we choose to look at the lessons we're learning through it.

Less than 24 hours to go and then I'll be on the plane heading back to it all. This time in the UK has been another milestone and time to reflect. Last time I returned, I'd only been there for three months, and they'd been a pretty tough, roller-coaster-ish three months and returning to England at that time, feeling roots in neither the UK or Dahab was pretty unsettling. This time however, I've come back knowing that Dahab is my home. I'm so happy there - seriously the past three months have just got better and better. So this time I've been able to come back to the UK and enjoy it for what it is, knowing that home is somewhere hotter, sunnier, and where I have a whole family of animals waiting for me. I can't wait to get back, see all my animals again, sit by the sea and drink tea with my girlfriends and feel the warmth of the sun of my skin. I've loved seeing friends and family while I've been back, and I met an amazing bunch of people on my massage course, so it's been a really rewarding and fun time, but it's not really home anymore.

Looking at my diary I'm finally going back to the life I set out to create for myself almost a whole year ago! I've got two guests booked on to yoga weeks in the hotel, I've got people coming to stay in the cottage and it's booked for over five weeks over Christmas, I'm teaching three classes a week, will be doing two yoga desert safaris and am also teaching a couple of classes a week at the Hilton. Also, will be doing massage, practicing my techniques and doing my case studies as well as studying hard for my massage exams. And the MS Society kicks off in January so we'll be placing case studies in papers for them from the start of 06. All in all, it's looking busy and I'm really happy! I'll tell you all now, my next visit to the UK will be even more hectic as I'm only coming back for a week to do my exam, meet the MS Society events team and then head back. I don't want to be away from my animals for as long for a while and I want to really settle in and spend more than three months in a chunk there - to really see it change through the seasons and feel my relationship with the place grow and develop. And of course, the cottage is ready and waiting for guests, so I'm hoping that you will come and see me now instead!

Oh and to finish off, I asked you all last time what you thought about the Vortex Healing retreat I went on. I contacted the founder of the organisation, Rick Weinman, who sent me the following email. And I wanted to share some of the responses sent to me by other readers - seems I'm not the mad one after all....

EMAIL FROM RIC WEINMAN, founder of the Vortex Healing Institute
Dear Sara,
I'm sorry for your disappointing experience. I have no responsibility though for classes that my students teach. They have their own lives, their own practices, their own kinds of workshops. I cannot--and should not--be in any kind of a role as policeman in regard to these activities, and I actually have no right to, legally or morally. If a student is acting unethically as a VortexHealing practitioner--coming on to clients during sessions, etc--then that is an area I would be need to be involved in. Otherwise, there is no way for me to be involved in it. I'm sorry, that you didn't get what you wanted from the workshop--from your email, below, it seems that others did. What people get from workshops is highly subjective, and I can tell you that in spite of my best efforts to have my own marketing reflect what VortexHealing classes are like, I still occasionally get students who feel that it isn't what they expected. Would I therefore refund their money? No, I wouldn't. Classes aren't like a department store where you can return merchandise you decide later you don't like. Twice I've had a student leave a Basic Training in the middle, but neither one asked for a refund. And in this case, you stayed and got whatever you got, taking in whatever was there to be received. Even if the teacher was worthless--which others there wouldn't agree to-- by staying you implicitly paid her for her time and whatever she did have to offer.

So, I can't help you. I'm sorry you feel that you wasted your money. I'd guess that for the future, when you're spending that much money, you should do more research first on what you are paying for.

best wishes,
Ric Weinman

SOME GEMS FROM FRIENDS AND FAMILY
Georgia, first cousin
Think reading about your recent experiences with Patrick and the retreat pushed me to action! Now I am completley cynical about all such things, and I'm afraid i think he sounds like a complete con-artist, talk about money for old rope! Stick with sorting it - if he believes in what he does he should consider your feedback essential. Do you think sometimes the other people on the retreat feel things partially because they think they should? Maybe you were being the most honest with yourself that it wasnt working! Mind you i love sleep and would probably pay for a good couple of hours kip!!!!

Steph, friend from Dahab
sounds like patrick needs a bit of feedback like yours, he comes across as some kind of self styled messiah....hitler tried the same approach i believe.

Suzannah, friend from London
So sorry to hear about what happened on the retreat. My opinion, as you asked is that you have done the right thing. Yes I can see his point that it maybe wasn't for you - but that other people got a lot from it (I don;t buy that subconsciously you did get something from it) and therefore you should still pay. However as you quite rightly point out if other people offer money back then this is something he should consider.

Unfortunately if its not his policy then there is nothing you can do. But again - I think your approach was just right.

Vanessa, friend from University
You asked for our opinion on Vortex / Patrick. It is only an opinion, so throw it in the mix with a pinch of salt...
There are only 2 types of clients who would have got anything from the 3 days:
1) Stressed out executives who never sit still enough to rest
2) Zombies
What should you do about it?
1)Patrick and his 'tone' will give you no joy. He won't give you a refund. He disrespects, and simply does not 'get' anything or anyone who does not speak his jumped up therapy language and his self-belief and arrogance just won't back down. Don't waste anymore time on him or his course. I guess you could forward the e-mail correspondence direct to Vortex expressing your disappointment. Don't waste words or refund demands on them. If they have any decency they will respond simply on the case as it stands. If they don't, put it down to poor marketing and go out and have a coffee and chocolate cake - it will give you more joy.

2) Why did you go on the course? You don't have negative behaviours to change?. You are more enterprising, outgoing, intelligent, fun and demonstrate positive behaviours (i.e. loyal, freindly, open minded, and continually learning). Your 'destiny' as you call it is your choice and what I see is someone who thinks about life and choices good or bad. Patrick can't match up. And you will find lots of people and organisations won't. It is not always self-help that is needed. Most of the time it is rest-of-the-world help that is needed. There was a thread of this in your e-mail. You said you loved your yoga and teaching this and meditation is a only ay to help others. A rich and intelligent and well thought through activity. My 'opinion' for what it is worth is that you should focus your energy on working on your practice, because when I read your e-mails - that is where the energy and good is.
Raise the bar on your own 'self-help' experiences. You have a wealth of experience on self-help so can afford to be selective and judgemental. There may be a number of bad or poor practitioners and believers out there in all areas of mind, body and soul. Life is a continual bombardment of ' opportunities'. How do you navigate to the right ones? The bible basher in me wants tell Patrick and similar cronies that God said there is one way, the way of love... and let us be very clear that the boundaries and behaviours of love are defined through the bible and Jesus and that in itself will take more than my own life time to understand, demonstrate and get right. Lying down for 3 hours or spinning round in any vortex without this one context, is simply not going to get us there. It is exposure without truth. It is empty. Exactly what you said - a restuarant meal without the food.

Emma, massage therapist and friend from Greece
must say that reading your last diary about dear Patrick, I was cringing at what he came back with, what a huge cop-out I thought you dealt with it very calmly and too right you should push to get your money back, if they are worth their reputation especially in this industry they should go out of their way to offer a part or full refund. Otherwise they seem to be exposing themselves as money making machines...


Anyway, time to go. If you've made it this far again, well done (from what I understand many of you print this off and read it on the train/tube/in the bath/in bed) - I hope you're enjoying my adventures. Some people have asked me about why I'm writing these diaries, and why I am sometimes so open and honest about personal experiences. I've realised that part of the pickle I got myself into over the past 15 years or so, when I was ill and before I started radically changing my lifestyle, is that I've been too private - that stiff upper lip that we all feel we have to maintain in England, battling through situations and problems on our own, feeling that we shouldn't burden each other by sharing or asking for help. What happened to the motto 'a problem shared is a problem halved'?. We're so good at walling ourselves up in ourselves in the the UK (and possibly other countries) that we are just isolating ourselves more and more. Pressures of modern living are bad enough, compounded by the increasing number of people who are single, through choice or circumstance, and we continue to keep it all bottled up. We're a pressure cooker waiting to explode. So, my diaries are not only a personal release, they are hopefully inspiration for others to open up too and to learn to share and trust the people around them. By doing so the most amazing and unexpected responses can be received - mostly we're all just praying for someone to show a chink in that cool, coping exterior, which will then enable us to show our softer, vulnerable, more human side too. So, when I write, I ask myself two questions: 1) does writing and sharing this make me feel uncomfortable? If the answer is yes, I move on to the second question: 2) am I ashamed of what I'm writing? Invariably the answer is 'no', which means I'll include it. It's just another way of taking myself out of my comfort zone and exploring experiences, emotions and places I've never been. Of course there are some things that don't get into these diaries - after all a girl needs a modicum of modesty! - but it's true that I'm bearing my soul on a level I've never done before, and certainly not to such a wide audience. Maybe, next time you feel the need to reach out to someone for help and support, or just to share, my two questions will help you to open up too. After all, we're all human, and unless we're consciously hurting others, there's really very little that anyone can condemn as being 'wrong' - it's just you being you, so don't be ashamed! Try it and see what happens. Again, I'd love to get any feedback on similar experiences, or from anyone who agrees, has a different opinion or thinks I'm completely mad!?!?!?

Love to you all, I miss you all and hope that you'll be able to find time in your busy diaries to come and visit - not just for me, but for you to recharge your batteries and have a well-deserved rest (and to come and share some of your deep dark secrets with me too!!! ;-) !

Big hugs and kisses,

xxxx
Sara