Today’s world teaches us that we’re meant to be all things, to all people, in all ways. We’re meant to find this oft quoted but rarely defined “work-life balance” and we are meant to smile while doing so. We’re meant to always be up so that everyone else feels a little better about themselves by proxy.

We are meant to give our all to our jobs, to our families, to our friends and even sometimes to the random person. There is no allowance for being down, for being quiet, for being alone. You are meant to unicycle yourself across the tightrope whilst juggling the myriad parts of your life without dropping any of those balls. And quite simply, that’s just tiring. And so very unrealistic.

Very recently, I learned a poignant life lesson. A good friend of my family’s died and as awful as it was, his death, and by extension his life, taught me more than ever that no one lives forever. His life showed me that you can fit forever into each day if you just remember that each day belongs to you. We as women (and I’m sure many men fit into this category also) tend to think of ourselves last. We do for others every moment of every day and leave the scraps for ourselves. We’re taught from a young age that our job is to take care of everyone else and then ourselves. We are invariably kinder to others than we are to ourselves because that’s our job. That’s our purpose. And that’s what we are told should define us. So we let it.

However, when we turn that simple thought onto its head, it’s amazing how easily our view changes. My friend put himself first. Now, don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t selfish. In fact, he was one of the kindest people I knew. He just understood that when you put yourself first it is no longer a game of subtraction, that you actually multiply the amount of you there is to give. He taught me that balance doesn’t come from trying to be all things, but being the best at the one thing. His life proved to me the importance of being your true and utter-most self, and once that happens the rest of life then falls into place.

He taught me to blast the music and dance like no one’s watching even when they are. He taught me to experience each moment as if it were both the first and the last. He taught me to open your arms even wider as it’s often the best way to connect. He even taught me the poignant lesson that some Manchester United fans can be good people.

This article was originally published in the Fall 2019 edition of RG Magazine.

The post The Tightrope of Life appeared first on RG Magazines.

I start boggling in my head no matter when or even where I am. Even just walking down the street (I might even flip out a few hand bogles if I think I can get away with it).

It brings to mind being a teenager on my first booze cruise, summer nights around a bonfire at the beach, boating on Paradise Lakes with a few of my closest friends and more than a few of their closest friends.

It makes me think of being dragged to family weddings with your parents and having a blast because those lot know how to party, of school dances (not regular dances but DAAANCES), of entire days being spent on the sand with just a cooler and a boom box – (Yes, I know I’m showing my age, but those were the days!).

I’m transported to the hours spent fishing off the rocks with my mates, doing more chatting than actual fishing.

And the thread that ties all those experiences together is the tunes. We defined summer by the music and still do even if today’s music isn’t quite as good.

We defined summer by the choice of which of the many concerts we actually could afford to go to and not wreck your budget, again still an issue we deal with if to a much higher extent now.

We defined summer by the hours spent picking out and putting together the perfect outfits that made you look cute but was flexible enough to let you whine down, whine down to the ground.

We defined summer by the impromptu parties up someone’s house where the coolness factor was defined by how well they slung tunes. And nothing messed up summer more than a broken Walkman.

More than the food of summer, the drinks of summer, it’s the music of summer that truly makes the memories of summer. Music is one of those things that transcends to create a feeling that is more than the sum of its parts.

For me, that is and always will be old school 90’s reggae and soca. My summer theme songs have that classic four-four beat.

A little ‘Hot This Year’ and I‘m eighteen again celebrating the best parts of being a Bermudian, before life and kids got in the way (not that I’d trade those munchkins for the world… most of the time).

A little ‘Twice My Age’ and I’m suddenly seeing Bermuda as the beautiful island paradise it truly is and not just the place where life with all its adultness of work and responsibilities conspires to keep my head down. Music allows you to use the eyes of your heart to truly see the world around you.

I hear some good tune and my soul, if not my body, dances and a little smile reaches my lips. Shabba!

The post When I see you smile, I can face the world, you know I can do anything… appeared first on RG Magazines.