Ellie Speaks...: January 2011

Exam Week: A few thoughts on attempting to cry into bowlfuls of cereal, coloured ink and a squeezy-stress-cow

I am SO glad last week is over. I worked like a machine (or as my friend Tom put it 'You worked like an asian Jackson' -beautiful) and now feel utterly deflated - I want to spend the next week eating proper meals, sleeping proper sleep and watching Gilmore Girls on repeat. Despite the obvious stress, there were a few glorious moments throughout my exam/essay deadline period and I would like to share a few RIGHT now.

1) On Wednesday afternoon I had already completed one essay and one exam. The night before I had gotten so hungry that I rebelled against my own immune system and devoured the little box of musli given to us in Fresher's week, that I, due to my freaky gluten-wheat-intolerant intestines, had stuffed at the back of my drawer and ALMOST forgotten about. So I'm walking back from the library, trying to find the momentum to walk up the hill back to Manor and make myself some lunch. Whilst in the library I had just read my Dad's blog on Mum's progress so I was feeling pretty low and missing home. I had gotten to that point in exam week when Kendrick girls just need to cry A LOT. You know, that massive bout of heaving sobs that lasts about 3 minutes and makes everything so much better. So to sum up, I was in need of cereal and a good crying sesh. I went to Waitrose and bought a box of gluten-free cornflakes with a bottle of milk then trudged up the five flights of stairs to room 5.5 where I sat on the floor and waited...and waited...and waited. It was soon clear that no tears were coming my way, so I ate some cereal, read some letters (one from my Aunt who had definitely had to much Sherry - this made me laugh A LOT!) and then doodled flowers all over my hands with coloured pens to try and cheer myself up. At the time I was still feeling pretty miserable, but with hindsight I can't help laughing at the pathetic little person sitting cross-legged on her itchy carpet squeezing her face together like a raisin trying to make herself cry. What a freak!

2) It's Thursday night and I'm on the home-straight. One more essay, then FREEDOM. Clearly, I'm going to be the only person hitting the books in Manor Hall that night; you know you're hard-core when the Chinese, the medics and the lawyers have left the room. Anyway, I'm sitting there struggling to come up with a coherent plan, desperately trying to avoid Facebook and staring longingly at the door where I can see a group of people dressed up like Harry Potter on their way to the 'Wizard Lounge' refresh event. About 2 hours into my work, Dobby appears by my side to show me his impressive papiermache ears, half an hour later my rather tipsy floor mates burst through the door to shower me with red, lipstick kisses and hysterical hycuppy giggles and an hour after that I begin to lose the will to live. I take a little jog round the library in my slippers to the sound of Dean Martin crooning from my Mac and then proceed to take stupid pictures on photo booth of me as a faceless druid, a jedi, a ninja and a duck. Throughout it all my trusty squeezy-stress-cow remains loyal and squeezy. When the stupid foxes began their flirtatious squealing in the garden, when I suddenly lost sight of my argument in paragraph 4, when my mind began to wonder, when I ran out of tea...squeezy-cow was there, patiently permitting me to squeeze his guts out - I owe him so much.

Currently Listening to: Mary Spender

So my friend Gemma and I were avid stalkers of this lovely lady before we met her. Now we can officially say 'look how talented my friend is' rather than 'look how talented this girl who goes to my uni is'. WOOP. Happy days. In all seriousness, I've been desperate for an artist to come about who sings and plays and just IS like Mary Spender. Not only is a super amazing musician she's also an equally super amazing person. Her music is both real and whimsical, with her a voice that whilst rich and elegant still manages to retain edge. Have a listen. Download her EP.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DejIZF7kbkg

Honour Spotlight: Ben Jiggins

I haven't written one of these in a long time and this one in particular has to do the person justice. Ben Jiggins is one of the most unique, stubborn, generous and inspiring people I have ever met. We have nothing in common apart from an appreciation of under-ripe bananas, flat-coke and a love for Jesus but for some reason we can always find someone to talk about. He can make me laugh till I cry and my tummy is sore, he's always prepared to listen to my silly teenage girl problems often involving me sobbing ridiculously down the phone and offers advice that is sensitive and real. I see him as the older brother/cousin I never had and with that one of my best friends.

Ben is never afraid to tell you when you're wrong, especially when he thinks he's right. He's passionate about what he likes and equally passionate about what he dislikes. He's had a long, blonde ponytail for as long as I've known him (although rumour has it 2011 will be the year it gets chopped off - wooop!) he's tall and lanky and can run really fast. I'm not sure why his physical appearance is so important, but I think that if you met him you'd understand. He has the BEST laugh in the whole world! Just thinking about it makes me giggle. One of the things I love about him and also one of things that I find so inspiring about him, is how sure of himself he is. When presented with something new or unfamiliar he's always so determined to work out what he thinks about it and what impact it's going to have on him. His personality, interests and experiences seem to fit into these neat little boxes, whilst mine appear to have been chucked messily into a wardrobe with the door hanging off. He's unbelievably loyal and I mean that in the full sense of the word. He's loyal to his friends, to his family, to his faith and also to himself and it's this commitment that I want to emulate.

When I was 13 I wrote a prayer in my journal asking God for a friend who would be consistent and allow me to truly be myself (I also asked for a boyfriend but I'm going to blame that on hormones and an addiction to One Tree Hill!) Anyway, I truly believe that God gave me Ben as my friend to help me grow into my faith and my future, but also to show me a biblical, godly friendship in action. For this I will be eternally grateful because he's just brilliant.

Candles and Facebook Messages: What Might Have Been and It's Not the End of the World

In Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist there is a chapter called 'What Might Have Been'. Today was one of those days for me and for many people back home.

'If you've been marked by what might have been, you don't forget. You know the day, the years. You know when the baby would have been born. you know exactly what anniversary you'd be celebrating, if the wedding had happened. You know exactly how old she'd be right now, if she were still alive. You'll never forget the last time you saw your child, or the last time cancer was a word about someone else's life, or the day that changed absolutely everything, it makes the calendar feel like a minefield, like you're constantly tiptoeing over explosions of grief until one day you hit one, shattered by what might have been.'

6 months is a long time to go without talking to, seeing or hugging someone. It's time enough for physical, tangible memories to be replaced by fuzzy montages and the happy but distant laughter of the good times you shared. It's time enough for true acceptance yet it's still raw enough for disbelief.

When clouds start to gather across what we hoped would be our bright and carefree futures, we fear the worst. Then the worst comes, the news which we thought would break us and stop our worlds for good. One thing I am starting to realise is that 'it's not the end of the world'. It sounds so blase and frank and in some ways it is, the sheer fact that the world goes on without the person we loved or despite our difficult circumstances is like a massive slap in the face. But it's true. Human beings can be remarkably resilient, when our hearts and minds are convinced that life is not worth living on account of 'the worst' occurring in our lives something deeper inside of us pushes us forward. It often takes over our grief, blocks out the sadness and helps us get on with our everyday lives.

Today was just another day for me. Another slog of hard work in the library, another breakfast, another Flat White from Starbucks, another trip to Sainsburys. But it was also much more than that. I promised myself a moment to grieve, a moment to remember. At 4 I stopped working and walked down to College Green, coffee in hand, to sit in the cathedral for a while. I sat in the stillness and just rested and remembered. Memories came flooding back, as did the pain and the deep sadness that lines my heart, but at the same time I felt the wonder at a God who would care for tiny, insignificant me sitting on a pew crying for her loss - it is possible to feel sadness, anger, joy and hope at the same time! I then lit a candle and prayed for her parents and the rest of her friends, then I thanked God for her life.

There is still a hole in my life. I've lost an emotional crutch. Yet I carry her with me always, for she has contributed so much to the person I am today. I miss so many things about her, strangely enough today I even miss the way she used to set out her Facebook wallposts and her texts. I miss that sense of fun that practically bubbled out of her face and the reassurance that no matter what there would always be someone to listen to you. I want to tell her everything. I want her advice on so many things.

Acceptance is a strange word, it assumes an end, a completion. My grief is not complete by any means, I'm not even sure if it's ever supposed to be, but it has certainly reached a new stage. I am no longer angry or bitter about what might have been in store for Annie. She is in a much better place now, happier than ever and safe in His arms. There is no injustice where she is concerned, it is us, those who have been left behind, that carry the hurt and the pain of the 'What Might Have Been'. However I have been inspired by two of my friends, Philippa and Alice who posted the following:

'6 months further from, 6 months closer to'

'See you soon'

This is the attitude I'm going to attempt to embrace from now on. I will see her again, not today and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. There is no use dwelling in 'What Might Have Been'.

Listening to: Lord of Lords - Hillsong

Thursday Afternoon

I write this sitting in the Enlightenment room in the British Museum. I'm here because of a failed attempt to find a reasonably priced coffee shop, but all is good. There's something marvelously soothing about museums. Maybe it's the warm glow of the spotlights, or the pristine greek statues, perhaps it's the book lined walls or the sounds of clicking heels. People walk slowly and thoughtfully around the exhibitions sometimes chatting quietly to themselves or perhaps just thinking silently. There's also a lot of rucksacks and walking boots, a lot of jabbering in various european/asian languages and lots of flashing cameras, but this doesn't bother me. I only dislike tourists when I'm queuing for the toilet or need a cup of tea. Most of the time I try to work out what they're saying, I want to know whether they're speaking a language I can understand and whether they're enjoying themselves.

So why London, why the British Museum? I was hoping to have a day out in London over the Christmas Holidays. Something about the city always wants to draw me in and pull me back for another memorable outing with a friend, an inspirational moment in a theatre or a cosy coffee in Covent Garden. Alas, my student budget wouldn't stretch to such extravagance this time round so instead I've made the most of a free ride up to London town with my parents.

It's been six years since I've visited the British Museum. The last time I was here I remember writing about it vividly in my journal because it was one of the good days. That Sunday in the early months of 2005 my family walked a few blocks from the hospital and enjoyed a little respite in the warm, inviting rooms on Great Russel Street. We looked at the Mummys and the Greek pots, we stared rather gormlessly at the Reading Room and we had a little peep in the gift shop. We could only stay an hour and a half because by that time my mother was flagging, so we had to bundle her up in her wheelchair, cover her dainty, hairless head with a silly, wooly hat and return her to her hospital bed.

If this were a novel then perhaps there might be something symbolic about my returning to the British Museum whilst I wait for my parents who are down the road on Goodge Street for a chemotheraphy consultation. As it happens, me sitting on a bench in the middle of the museum is simply a coincidence: it was raining, the strap on my bag just broke and I needed a wee, I was on Oxford Street and knew that I would find shelter, a toilet and heating for free in the Museum.

I haven't been to Goodge Street since 2005 either. Thankfully it has changed a lot over the years and I hardly recognise anything. There is a sense of 'here we go again' more Sunday afternoons spent in wards full of bald, sick people and greasy, smelly waiting rooms. But I know this time will be different. We're all in different places, including the hospital. When I look back on last time, yes I see moments of pain and fear, but I also see moments spent together. I see family-time on a whole new level. 2010 was a year of suffering for many, but each period of grief was flanked by moments of indescribable joy. I believe the same will happen in 2011. We mustn't fear pain, or death, or sadness because they make happiness all the more gorgeous. They freeze the moments of laughter so that they become a tangible presence you can carry around in your heart. Although things are tough, I love my life and I honestly wouldn't change a thing. Time on earth is made all the more worth living when it is bittersweet.

It's suddenly got a lot busier so I'm going to have one more look at the Orrery on loan from the Science Museum (might play a bit of Holst's Planets suite to set the scene) and the awesome Colossal Foot and then find me some COFFEE

Currently Playing: Shadowfeet - Brooke Fraser

Welcome 2011.

Okay, so last night wasn't so awful, in fact it was pretty wonderful. Anna and I decided to stop faffing and get everyone together, we originally planned a Mean Girls party with costumes, pink food, trivia, a viewing of the film and, of course, lots of Jingle Bell Rock dance routines. However, when people turned up it was clear no one had got the 'dress-up' or even the THEME memo so we ended up just chillin and chatting till New Year rolled in after which we read out the rather original, mostly comical resolutions we had written for each other and set off lanterns on the field at the back of my house. It was just good to be together.

So it's New Year, I should probably make some resolutions - get thinner, grow hair, buy less clothes, do more work, be more cheerful - meh! How generic. Most of those I will struggle and ultimately fail to keep because a) my hair hates me b) clothes literally claw at my face until I buy them c) Gilmore Girls, Facebook and Selective Potential will always be watched, checked and read before any work is achieved and d) Sometimes, I like having a snotty, puffy face.

In all seriousness I have one thing I would like to, not achieve, but focus on this year. I want to quieten my mind and feel more at peace with myself and the situations I will find myself in over the following months. I have three activities which I believe will help me in my quest to feel more zen and they are:

1) Journalling. I want to journal more regularly. Journalling is the outlet for my inner monologue, performed by the crazy, nutter in my head that never seems to stop or shut up. My mind is a constant hum and buzz of ideas, insecurities, fears, anxiety, routines and song lyrics wrapped around a montage of memories that when initiated will play at full-speed across my forehead. Perhaps by writing things down I will stop the noise, decipher the confusion in my thoughts and actually get some sleep.

2) Be open with people. I have been blessed with some incredible friends, role models and mentors in my life. This year, I mustn't be afraid of picking up the phone, or running down the road to knock on their doors. Nor must I feel ashamed of crying my guts out on the floor in their presence. I will not resist their hugs or their kindness. They say a problem shared is a problem halved - I want to see whether this is true.

3) Make spending time with God a priority. This pretty much speaks for itself. It doesn't mean attend every single church and CU meeting and go on every conference and christian holiday available. Instead it's inviting me to make time to sit in my arm chair with a cup of tea and just rest in his presence. It means reading my Bible as much as possible, it means thanking him, it means offloading all my emotional junk in his direction and it means trusting in him, even when trusting an invisible God seems like lunacy.

Finally, here's to another chance to take as many unflattering photos as possible, to add loads more people you don't know on Facebook, procrastinate, to delete loads of people you don't know on Facebook, to wear awful 'fashionable' clothes, to do even MORE revision, to make another attempt at sorting out your messy bedroom and of course embarrass yourself beyond measure...

only kidding! Hope you have a wonderfully positive start to this beautiful New Year that we've been given.

love

Ellie x

Goodbye 2010

So this blog has come a long way this year - I'm becoming rather attached to it. A massive thank you to everyone who has read, followed and encouraged me in my writing - it's such a privilege and I am more grateful thank you can imagine. I was going to write out a long post about what happened this year, but I thought it would be more 'blogger' of me to just guide you to the posts which I feel sum up 2010 for Ellie Jackson. Enjoy.