It is never too late to be what you might have been.

We went away this weekend. We drove all the way to Sussex for a party. Not just any party, a farewell party with a bit of a difference.

Our friends are going away for a year. Going away from their lives, their home, their chickens, their jobs. About the only thing they aren’t giving up is school, as the children are already home-educated. Watching them take this decision and then prepare for it has been humbling, thought provoking, and dare I say it, inspirational 😉

There was plenty of inspiration around the walls at the party too.

Nic had written them all out. I read lots of them – she suggested I should find the one that spoke to me most and try to do something with it.

This one kind of worked.

A couple of good ones here.

And I kept coming back to this.

But the one that spoke to me most was the one I blogged direct from the party, via my lovely new smartphone. (I’ve got a lovely new smartphone. Did I mention that? I’m so proud.) It’s simple. It’s deep. It’s easy and difficult to wrap your brain around all at the same time.

So I came home from the party yesterday, and on the way I thought of Jay, and blogged for her, and I thought that was about living, and connecting. And when we got home, instead of keeling over in a heap, I did the potatoes, and a little washing up, and put some washing in and sorted some dry washing, and then it was time to take Big to swimming, and at least I eventually ended the day feeling like I’d tried.

I woke up very late today, probably because of the extremely late night on Saturday, so I didn’t run. And I decided that the thing I should work on most is not wasting time and energy beating myself up feeling guilty about the things I don’t do, instead I should try to do stuff and feel good about it. So when we got to the end of the day and I’d managed to keep on top of the washing up, clean part of the fridge, stick some things in the post (including recycling some Kenco eco-refills that I was meant to recycle 8 months ago!), get the shopping *and* call in on Aunt S, I thought that was a pretty good list of things to have achieved. (And that’s beside the usual feeding baby, changing baby, child wrangling that goes on every day.)

It might not be mojo. It’s hardly passion. But it could be a faint glimmer of a purpose, and that’s a good place to start.