Country Mouse

Ever since I can remember, London has been my absolute favourite city in the whole world. Growing up, we went as a family to London quite often and I became familiar with the different sights and sounds. We also had a family tradition of going down to see a Christmas concert every year (which I appreciated more as time went by!).

When I met Harriet, I found in her a fellow Londonphile (is that even a word??), as she had been there a lot growing up and had a particular love for West End shows. A few times since then, we have been down there together and with others and it never ceases to impress as a city. It truly is a cauldron overflowing with culture everywhere you look.

The last time I went down there I stayed at the newly-found flat of a couple of very good friends, one of whom had yet to move in. As I rode the train, the tube and walked through London on the way to their flat, I marvelled at The Shard as it appeared above London Bridge Underground Station and made my way through dark streets (I went the scenic route) to where I was staying.

The Shard

The next morning, I walked towards Tower Bridge and past various other world-famous landmarks and revelled in the beauty of this grand old place. After walking all that distance and then more throughout the day, I realised something: I hadn't interacted in any way with anyone in this city yet - no words, not even eye contact.

Londoners have this canny knack of staying out of everyone's business in every way possible and there are various unwritten rules everyone sticks to:

• Do not make eye contact on the tube.
• Do not smile at people.
• Do not touch people. If this happens (most likely on the tube), you apologise profusely in the same way you would if you'd just accidentally shot their prize-winning poodle.
• Do not, under any circumstance, speak to anyone. This means you are a terrorist.

Being somewhat of a "Country Mouse", I have habits that must be strange to London-dwellers. When I walk past strangers in the street, I sometimes smile at them. This is a habit I don't intend to break, as I think it's nice and not quite mental enough to warrant sectioning.

This all got me thinking: how can this lack of human interaction happen in a place with a population of around 10 million people? If this is genuinely how things are here, how do people meet? How do people find their other halves? This in turn made me think that it must be so easy to fade away and be alone. I found that when I had my headphones in (another staple Londoner activity), I was in my own little bubble - my own world. I may as well have been wandering around by myself. Being an only child, this was in some ways appealing to me, but the more I thought about it the more I thought that this is only fun when temporary.

As I walked around further, I thought to myself that because it is so easy to be alone in a place like this, there must be a large amount of people there who have no-one. I then turned this negative thought into a positive one: I am so grateful for my family and friends. I am so blessed to have met the love of my life and to have been prepared for this by having such great parents and friends and others who cared enough about me. I am grateful that I am not alone!

Though I realise that this has all been a collection of my own personal thoughts based on one experience and is almost certainly not an accurate portrayal of life in "our nation's capital", I have still felt a re-commitment to my "Country Mouse" ways. I will continue to smile at people (even if I'm on the tube!), I will continue to interact in whatever positive way I can with others.

In all likelihood, my next post may come from the secure unit of a mental hospital...

Tower Bridge

The City of London at Night

Me & You... In The Institution (February)

Love is...

...making sure you get monthly photos together!

The Silver Lining

It's not an uncommon phenomenon to occasionally find yourself in the middle of the roadworks and speed bumps on this journey through life. Sometimes those hiccups along the way are so obviously due to something daft you've done that you resign yourself to it, knowing that you're the one who is creating this havoc. In this analogy, maybe you got into the wrong lane and are now trying to cross a line of heavy traffic. Either way, you know you are the maker of your own difficulties. 

Maybe I can describe that situation so well because that is me - all the time - but I'm guessing that I'm probably not the only one. 

Whether it's unfortunate or fortunate I'm not sure, but lately I have felt like most of the attacks going on are external. They have impacted me and I've probably swerved to try and avoid bumps and haven't really made my life any easier. Satan has been having a really good go at jumping into the car and taking hold of the wheel. 

I know that it's great to be honest and get things out there, but forgive me if I don't allow myself to dwell on the problems. I'm not trying to make this into a blog that deceives people into thinking that "Life in the Institution" is always perfect. Life is sad sometimes. 

I'm probably much more eloquent in expressing things on here than I am in real life. I love to write. And one of the reasons for that is because it makes problems go away. Which is why you won't often find me writing miserable things - because in writing them down I find solutions. And solutions are a much more fun thing to share than problems. 

I mentioned Satan trying to jump into the car in my journey through "The Game of Life". Yes, he's certainly been trying, which is definitely a big fat cloud. But, as always, I've had an enormous feeling of spiritual power and comfort when I've asked for help. 

Two ideas popped into my head that have particularly helped me to change my outlook and gain a sense of hope. 

1) To do something nice for someone - which was an amazing reminder from Heavenly Father that by serving other people we get blessings and we do find answers. Serving others makes us feel less selfish. It was a little thing, for me, but the principle underlying it is summed up in this quote: 

"Indeed, those men and women who righteously share themselves, their talents, and their means in benevolent service to God and humankind, are blessed with freedom, growth, nearness to Divinity, and worthiness to have the companionship of the Spirit. By selflessness we demonstrate our true relationship with the Saviour. It is the one great virtue that binds together the family of God." (William R. Bradford) 

2) To write a Family Mission Statement. 

Now, when I had this idea I wasn't really sure that such a thing existed. Maybe I've vaguely been aware of them, but I'd never really thought about writing one. My idea was that Ben & I sit down alone and write down our priorities in life: things without which our life would be less meaningful and rich. Then we would share those ideas and collectively agree on the ones that our family should treasure as our specific values. 

I loved reading the statements that came up when I later stumbled across the same idea online. They were precious and different, even if many of the ideals were the same. Below is a draft version of our McKee Family Mission Statement.  

I felt a bit lost this week, but writing this and thinking about these things has given me a focus. It's also given me a lot of hope. Sometimes we forget why we got married and what we share in common can get lost under the mountain of jobs and ironing and fatigue (and that's even without kids - you mothers and fathers inspire me!). 

Writing a Family Mission Statement helped us to realise that what we want ultimately is the same even if sometimes we don't agree on the best way to get there. I would recommend it thoroughly. 

These are positive statements. We're not perfect in these things yet. However, when we've created our final version, I hope to display this in our home. It's a reminder of what we are aiming for together, and a great way of evaluating whether we're on the path to having the family and home that we really want. 

It's the silver lining to each cloud that will come our way. 

Who Do You Think You Are?

I'm working on a project at the moment that I love. There's a clue in the picture above and also in the title of this post. 

Here's an even bigger hint: 

Like the celebrities in the wonderful BBC programme, I'm trying to find some answers to the question of who I think I am. Don't we know who we are?  

I love this photo. The little girl in it is my mother. My mother! It just illustrates to me that the question of who we are isn't a simple snapshot in time. 

When I'm looking at the names of those in my family line I get excited. I'm using Family Search to locate the people whose genes contributed to my biological structure - people who may have much more in common with me than I can know right now.  

It's magic. Honestly, magic. I feel like some of the names and dates and places I've found that are connected to me are screaming out to me - it's in my blood!  

One thing that has been wonderful is spending some time reading notes that my brilliant Granddad had written about his family growing up. I think he was rather dashing as a young man: 

In a lot of ways, he's my hero. He died of cancer three years ago. It was a shocking thing, really, to discover that he wasn't invincible. Granddad's father died when he was three and he took over running the family business when his sister died when he was sixteen. She told him he was now capable of being the head of the family. Now I understand something about his early days I feel like I understand something about his character. A hard worker, a family man, full of humour! 

I am so glad to have those memories that he left. 

So here's the challenge for you: 

Talk to your older relatives about life before you! 

Ask them about the family they were born into. 

Ask about the people they loved and lost along the way. 

People have stories to tell. 

Take a dictaphone - treasures will just keep coming.