A note to self

I feel your pain.

I see how hard you work.

I hear your grief at fucking up again.

I understand your sadness that people you love will die.

I see your annoyance at what an asshole you can be.

I notice your overwhelming anxiety about your job.

I feel your humility about love.

I hear your sorrow that you are not good enough and might not ever be.

I feel your expectations and deepest longings. I feel those a lot.

I understand your worry that it’s not going to be okay.

I hear your fear that you are alone.

I notice your rapt attention.

I get your desire to make this place you are in better.

I smell your striving for contentment.

I see your fire.

I feel your unrelenting drive forward.

I see your chest opening wide again.

I feel your bravery.

I see you diving down deep.

It is hard. It is o’ so hard and I really feel how hard it is for you.

You are breathing underwater.


What a wonder.

You, little fishy; swim, swim, swim.



Cry and swim, punch and swim, say some swears and swim some more.

It is dangerous I know.


It is lonely I know.


It is ridiculously impossible I know.

Brown trout, which have learnt to escape to freedom through a pipe, at a fish farm near Alresford, Hampshire, Britain - Dec 2007

You are so tired but keep swimming little fishy.

Swim towards the sea. Swim, swim, swim.


It is what you do.

And if you are lucky you will find a safe place to birth your dreams…

IMG_0953baby fish


…before you die.


That’s who you are.