Spring, unstoppable, is in the air. Can you sense it?
 
The Amelanchier is swelling with sweet blossom beyond the patio doors. The clematis is climbing from the soil, doing all she can to reach the ragged trellis hooked to the garage wall. 
 
More people are out on walks. We’re stopping longer now, sharing more of our lives – what happened in our winters, shut in our homes; what longer days might hold for us. Crows are collecting twigs, readying nests for new broods. It’s time for first clutches. 
 
The darkest days have passed. There’s a light of rehabilitation and recovery in my family. It frees me to focus on my writing. And to reflect on what a writing life gifts me.
 
I’ve captured reflections in a list of what I’m thankful for. It’s helped me to linger in positives that are too often all too fleeting.
 
As you read/reflect, you might linger in your life’s own positives.
 
Personally, as I sit and write, I’m thankful for:

People who inspire me

I’m writing this after dinner in London with Andy Hayes and Fiona Thompson. They’re fellow 26 members, and endlessly inspiring. You might know them. Andy makes art, Fiona plays harp. 
 
Well, that’s just a bit of Andy and Fiona. Two of many passions. They also write and give talks and travel and instigate fun projects. I find the energy of people like Andy and Fiona totally intoxicating. I can’t get enough of their aura that glows when we meet.

All sorts of new experience

This month I said a big yes to an invitation from my client Vertus to stay at their new ‘aparthotel’ in Canary Wharf. I took my friend Matt. We’d wanted to explore the neighbourhood together for ages.  
 
It was a Thursday evening. Bars were so packed they were spilling onto waterside paths. Those paths wind around landscaped docks, up onto busy plazas, loop around shopping districts. I felt thrilled to be there. I’m just as thankful for tiny, tasty everyday experiences.

Promises of adventure

I missed a photography course in Paris, run by 26’s Richard Pelletier. Blame circumstance. I’ve now moved my train ticket to May. I’m so excited to visit this beautiful city again. Me and my camera.
 
In July, I’ll return to Paris – having cycled 300 miles from London with Matt for charity. My friend’s daughter lives with epilepsy, and my mum’s brother Donald died with it in 1963. Donald would have turned 90 this year – I’ll take his memory with me in celebration.

A life of unknowable things

At first, uncertainty is scary. But when you learn, like I have recently, how little control we have over things that happen, it liberates you. There is no certainty really. Just experiences to grow from.
 
A life made of people who inspire you and all sorts of new experience and promise of adventure leads to unknowable things. Some will be great, others hard. I’m reading Stoicism by Jason Hemlock – like the Stoics, who welcomed hardship, I’m thankful to live such a life.  

Moments to mark

The Brand Language Studio is turning five. Happy birthday, little studio. You were born of a trade mark dispute, survived Covid-19, and continue to bud with potential. I’m proud of you.
 
It’s also ten years since I published my first travel memoir, Twinned with. Marking moments, big and small, seems important. I’m thankful to have the benchmarks. So I can use them to look back at my achievements. And to step forward in happy anticipation.

Together we go

Writing these closing paragraphs, a moment of serendipity. Barack Obama’s 2008 acceptance speech is on BBC Radio 3. Chosen as Democratic nominee, he begins: ‘With profound gratitude…’
 
I’d love to know what or who would make your list of profound gratitude. Try writing one. And enjoy lingering in positives.