Dreaming…

I’ve always been a dreamer. As a child I had a vivid and huge imagination. I was an avid reader, constantly lost in the pages of Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl's children's classics. My never ending energy and creativity had an outlet in the dance classes I attended from the age of 5. I knew by the age of 10 that I wanted to be a professional dancer. I dreamed of pretty tutus and pointe shoes, and having the opportunity to step out on stage and become a different person in every role I performed. I wanted to travel the world and dance on stages that famous dancers such as Baryshnikov and Fonteyn had performed on. 

And I made that dream happen. Either by luck, or with talent and dedication, or perhaps a combination of all of those things. I was awarded a scholarship to study at the world famous Vaganova Academy in Russia when I was 18. And I spent the most amazing 6 months living in a strange foreign land, with a different language to learn, new foods to try, making new friends, falling in love, and realising my dream. I went on to work for one of the world's most prestigious ballet companies, the English National Ballet, for 13 years. 

I stopped dancing at the age of 32 to have children, and 18 years ago we sold our flat in Balham and moved down to Cornwall so the boys could grow up with fresh air, the sea, the moors,and my parents close by. 

And somewhere along the way in the last 18 years I lost my ability to dream.

Maybe it was a combination of factors. Being a busy single Mum of two boys. Going through treatment for breast cancer for a year. Supporting and caring for both my parents as they went though their own cancer journeys (sadly of which neither of them survived). Living through the scary pandemic years, feeling afraid, isolated and alone as we all did. 

Maybe it was just that I was tired. So very very tired. Because life has a sneaky way of catching up with you. Along comes the menopause with its unwelcome brain fog, fatigue, anxiety, and sleepless nights.

And undoubtedly having undiagnosed ADHD had a lot to do with me losing my zest for life. 

Every day became a battle for survival. Dreaming big didn't really get a look in. 

In the last 18 months since my diagnosis and subsequent lifestyle changes that I’ve implemented to get my mojo back, I’ve somehow managed to unleash that hidden burning desire to throw caution to the wind and live a life that I once dreamed of again.

Because if not now then when?

So now I have a dream. I can see it every time I close my eyes. 

I see myself in two years with a successful business, with money in the bank and the satisfaction that I’ve made that happen by not giving up. 

I see myself unlocking the door to my house in Italy that I dream of owning. Sitting on my balcony watching a glorious Italian sunset with an ice cold Aperol Spritz in hand. Getting up early and going for my daily walk before it gets too hot, maybe enjoying a dip in the lake to cool off before I head to the market to grab breakfast. Maybe I’ll come home and write for a few hours. Maybe I’ll head to Florence or Siena and create inspiring videos and content to share with the world. I see myself speaking another glorious language that's filled with passion and emotion and rolls off the tongue with all the warmth of warm Nutella. 

I’ll spend 3 months at a time between two countries. Coming and going and renting out my houses to people while I’m away. Sharing my travel tips, my best things to do, the best places to eat and visit. 

Two years ago I could never have imagined that any of that was possible. 

There was no Mojo. No zest, no energy, and no dream at all.

So I guess the point of this blog post is to say that sometimes life can surprise you. When you can’t see past tomorrow let alone a year ahead, don’t give up. 

Never stop living a life less ordinary.

And never ever stop dreaming BIG. 

Love Sarah x