Copenhagen – A Beast of a City

This time last week myself and two good friends, Íde and Mairéad, were basking in sunshine in a place called Paper town in the heart of the Danish capital, Copenhagen. It resembled an atmosphere similar to the Port of Cork with an industrial type surrounding yet it’s one of the most popular places for Danish to grab a beer and food. There’s an impressive food market inside with everything from Korean and Thai food to Western and obviously Danish food to choose from. It was an afternoon well spent but let me go back to the beginning before I get side tracked again.

Many people asked us, why Copenhagen? It’s not a place you hear too many people going to. The decision to go to Copenhagen stemmed from the girls having thought about going there a few months back but instead opting for Prague coupled with my travel philosophy of why not go there.. so the decision was made and flights were booked in April. Our journey began at 6 am last Thursday morning. We flew from Dublin so left Cork with plenty of time. The two hour flight was a relatively pleasant one and when we landed our first impressions of the city were very positive. We hopped on a 15 minute train from the airport to the heart of Copenhagen and with Mairéad leading the way we reached our hotel which was in a fantastic location.  The room itself was small for three people but comfortable, clean and with complimentary snacks! The staff in the hotel were also extremely helpful and friendly as was almost every Danish person we encountered.

The first evening was low key, tired from traveling, we ate dinner in the hotel restaurant and went for a stroll through the city. The wide open streets and the cleanliness were two things which struck me. There’s a vibrancy to the city yet with a chilled atmosphere. We were already hooked.

19399130_10213749975732559_8534638507980276365_nFriday morning we ventured out for breakfast followed by a boat trip in Nyhavn. In hindsight, this was a fantastic way to begin exploring as it gave us an idea of the layout of the city and later helped us navigate our way through the streets and various sights. The thing I loved most about Nyhavn was the array of brightly coloured buildings which are lined down the strip of land next to the water. It’s so striking. An unusual wall in the area also caught our eye. This wall had large gaps where it looked as if windows had been removed. In place of the windows were hundreds upon hundreds of bright orange life jackets. Not only was it beautiful to look at but it was one of the many examples of how people in Copenhagen use their buildings in such a diverse way. The balance between contemporary and traditional is definitely something which adds to the charm of the city.


After our boat trip we headed for Rosenberg castle. Only a short walk away, this castle is surrounded by beautiful gardens and although a quick visit for us, it was certainly worth seeing. Onward then to the incredible Tivoli Gardens, a quirky almost antique like amusement park right in the hub of Copenhagen. You could be casually walking down the street only to see giant roller coasters and swings tossing people into the air. Now, for those of you who know me well and know how much I like my feet to be firmly on the ground this was still an incredibly enjoyable experience. The surroundings are nothing short of magnificent. It’s like Alice and Wonderland meets the orient. Lane ways reminiscent of scenes from Harry Potter, food stalls, restaurants, music, rides for young and old and a fantastic stage where concerts are held. I did conquer my fear somewhat by going on one small roller coaster which was deceptively scarier than it looked but Íde and Mairéad went on almost everything. I was very impressed with their nerves of steel or at least their ability to remain calm… but that might have been Íde a little more than Mairéad 🙂

Exhausted from it all we headed back to the hotel that night and got a decent night’s rest. Day two had plenty more adventures waiting for us.

Like many European cities Copenhagen is no stranger to bicycles. There are hundreds of them and seeing as our hotel had them for rent we decided that Saturday we would make like the locals and hop on some bikes. Now bare in mind I haven’t been on a bike in about 14 years let alone in a busy city where people casually cycle on motorways alongside cars, buses, mopeds you name it. First off, I could have done with being slightly taller. My toes just about reached the ground and I was slightly thrown off by the fact that the brake was only on the left hand side. Mairéad again led the way and although we had to take a few pit stops to regroup every now and then we eventually got the hang of the rules of cycling in Copenhagen. There were a few false starts and a little beeping from both cars and bicycles alike but it all added to the hilarity. We ventured to Old Town, eventually managed to lock our bikes and headed to the top of a church which had an amazing view of the city. By the time we had climbed to the top the wind had picked up considerably but nonetheless it was a beautiful view. Afterwards we sat in the grounds as a wedding took place. We admired the laid back, effortless style of both the men and the women. They have the balance between smart and casual down to a fine art and the bride strolled in as if she were heading to the supermarket. The ease of it all was refreshing. From here we walked down the road to Christiana, an area in Copenhagen where things are a little more relaxed shall we say. As we wandered in the direction Íde was approached by a man offering to take a picture but what we soon realised was that he actually wanted my ipad. When Íde politely said no thanks to the offer for the picture his reaction was less than positive. Thankfully, he continued on his way and nothing further came from it. Cue the food market I mentioned at the beginning which was packed with people but easily one of the highlights of the trip.

With only one full day left in Copenhagen we still had plenty of things to see. One of the main things I wanted to do was visit the grounds of Bisbejerg cemetery which was about 20 minutes outside the city centre. I know a cemetery is not something you would normally do as a tourist but those grounds are the home to 2 rows of beautiful blossom trees. It doesn’t sound like much but they really are amazing when in bloom. It took us a while to find them and my heart sank when two Danish people told me I had just missed the right season to see them. It turns out the blossoms only last for a number of weeks but it wasn’t a total disappointment though, we embraced our inner fairy and found a replacement in willow instead of blossoms. Next on the list was a skate park called Superkilen, this was an interesting excursion to say the least. Outside of the fact that we stood out like sore thumbs it allowed us to see a different side of the city. It wasn’t quite what we expected but it was interesting to see a more raw, urban side of the city.

One of the most popular attractions in Copenhagen is The Little Mermaid connected to Hans Christian Anderson. Despite her fame she was the last on our list and to say she nearly finished us off after what was an eventful day was an understatement. Tucked away on the very tip of the city the symbol of Copenhagen didn’t disappoint. Still busy with tourists she sat perched on her rock despite having been through her fair share of travel and distress in recent times. She felt our pain. We bonded. Tired and with the reality that our time in Denmark was ending we headed back to the hotel before heading out for one last dinner.

Our time in Copenhagen was definitely one of the best trips I have had in a while and I think I speak for all of us when I say I would go back in a heart beat. There was so much to do and plenty more we wanted to do too. The variety of shops was great also with a good mix of Danish brands and familiar labels from home. The people exceeded our expectations. The cafés and brunch options were perfect to set us up for our jam packed days and the weather was mainly good. I had been warned that Copenhagen was an expensive city and it wasn’t cheap by any means but no where near as bad as I was expecting or no more than any other capital city. All three of us have come home with fresh eyes, fond memories and all I can say is thank you Copenhagen, you beast…




The Race

IMAG1437(1)The gunshot marks the start. The athletes lift their feet making their way towards the finish line. You don’t dare look anywhere else. Your gaze firmly fixed on that point, that destination.

They all start out as equals. No one has any advantage over the other. They’ve all got the same distance to cover. They’ve all trained to make it to that point but some have trained far harder, they’ve had to.

A few metres down the track the first one falls. As he tumbles all he can see are his competitors slipping into the distance towards the finish line. In that second he has to make a decision, accept defeat or continue despite this obstacle. He chose the latter.

As he gradually picked up pace another competitor loses sight of the finish line. Her focus dropped and her pace dwindled. She fought and fought to catch up but her body wouldn’t allow it.

By now the ones who’d had the ideal race had crossed the line. That line that deemed them more successful. No hurdles, no loss of concentration, no falls just start to finish.

Had the race been a relay they all would’ve had to shoulder the consequence of the fall but it wasn’t. It was a sprint to the finish line.


Creative Outlets

IMAG1426Sometimes I find myself sitting in front of a blank screen with no idea of what I want to write. Today is one such day. Although I love writing and it’s something which rarely, if ever, fails to make me feel better it can be an effort at times to make myself write. The wiser part of me challenges the part that wants to wallow and places me in front of the blank page or screen and I just type whatever comes out. Even after those few short lines I can feel my sense of self reignite.

Yesterday I picked up a guitar for the first time in well over 15 years and attempted to play. My fingers were sore from relearning the chords but before long I seemed to find somewhat of a decent rhythm. I played guitar and piano for a while between the ages of ten to thirteen but gave up. What I intended to be a few minutes of becoming familiar with the guitar again turned into almost 2 hours of playing the same chords over and over relishing the fact that somehow what I learned hadn’t completely gone. I became lost in it. It was the most therapeutic thing. Maybe because I was focusing so intently all my other thoughts and concerns seemed to just stop.

It made me eager to really play again, properly. Music is something which can be incredibly powerful as are all creative outlets. While writing will continue to be my main focus I think guitar may start to creep back in one chord at a time.

Are you on Anti-Biotics?

alcoholism-quit-drinkingAlcohol, the cause of and solution to all of life’s problems. A suitable quote there from Homer Simpson. The relationship Irish people have with alcohol is a warped one and is no secret. We are forever referred to as the “drunken Irish” and more often than not we are well able to live up to that expectation. The centre of the Irish social scene is alcohol, it doesn’t even really matter what the context is. Whether it’s a birthday, a christening, a funeral, an anniversary or just a Friday night we associate alcohol with relaxing, with enjoyment and with socialising and the reality of that changing seems very far off.

Recently, I stopped drinking alcohol. Unlike in my early twenties when going out and getting drunk as quickly and as cheaply as possible was key, that is no longer a priority. My desire for alcohol has lessened considerably since the age of about 26 and certainly from 27 onward. So, the big question. Why? Why are you not drinking? The shock and horrified expressions on people’s face is enough to make you feel like you’re committing some kind of social sin. I’m no longer drinking alcohol because of my migraine. At the moment I’m on medication for it and that takes precedent. That started four months ago and truth be told I don’t even miss it. We seem to have a psychological attachment to alcohol and that if we’re not consuming it then we won’t be able to enjoy ourselves. I won’t lie and say that the first few times I went out and didn’t drink weren’t strange because it was an adjustment. You do feel a little out of sorts when the majority of people around you are drinking but now, I don’t find it that much of an issue at all. Non – alcoholic beer and mocktails offer a nice alternative that mean you don’t have to compromise on alcohol intake but you can still “fit in” for lack of a better description.

What annoys me most about the situation is that whatever people’s reasons are for not drinking, be that anti – biotics, financial, generally having an unhealthy relationship with alcohol or just not wanting to deal with the hangovers, it is just that, THEIR reason  and I don’t feel that the rest of us should need to know every detail. It can be uncomfortable for someone to have to justify their choice on something that really shouldn’t be any kind of an issue. At times even when you have explained your reason it doesn’t seem to be adequate. “So what if you’re on anti – biotics that just means a cheaper night out” has been one response that I’ve heard on numerous occasions.

When I do come off the medication for my migraine, will I make a swift return to drinking? Honestly, I don’t think that I will. I don’t miss the hangovers or the impact alcohol has on my body and mind nor do I miss the gaping hole in my bank balance so why bother? I think because we drink so extensively in our teens and early twenties in Ireland we almost don’t realise that we are capable of socialising without it and once you overcome that barrier, it really isn’t that big of a deal. Of course I might have a drink here and there but I think I can honestly say that my nights of heavy drinking will be staying with me only in my memory, or lack of memory probably in some cases.


Image – Yahoo Images


Looking at the wine Audi you just got parked outside the door knowing you wouldn’t drive it again.

Seeing your bus being driven by someone else around Cork.

The oil that seemed permanently stained to the creases in your fingers.

The time you saw me qualifying for Mosney in athletics at the Community Games but I was excited when I saw you and I just missed my start.

How you rubbed your hands and yawned when you came downstairs in the morning at weekends.

How you drank your tea black and only had Rice Krispies with boiling hot milk.

How you refused to admit that we were lost on holidays in Jersey.

Walking the greyhounds with you.

Watching you watching us decorate the Christmas tree days before you went.

The way you always popped your head around the door before I fell asleep just to say good night.

Sitting at the front of your bus pretending I was driving it making a vroom noise for the entire time of the drive.

When I helped you varnish the garage door and spilled varnish on my new top and you knew Mom wouldn’t be impressed 🙂

Sneaking down to the shop at the greyhound track to buy the present you never got to open.

The night we walked around the village and I told you I knew Santa wasn’t real 🙂

You helping me learn how to write the number 3.

Teaching me to cycle my bike without stabilisers in the back garden.

When I came third in the national writing competition and ringing you at work to tell you.

When you drove me and my friends to the cinema for my 12th birthday, the last one you ever saw me celebrate.

Friday Night sweets…







There was something lingering in the air between them. Unspoken words, concerns they couldn’t bring themselves to share, fears they should have been able to communicate to each other but couldn’t. They had been in the room for almost two hours without so much as a glance to the others’ eyes, knowing that once they made contact they would have to think about it, have to respond. So, they didn’t. They sat in complete silence, one staring out the narrow window in the corner, the other at the ceiling examining each line and crack as if it were a work of art in the Vatican. A small burned out match lay on the window sill from the last time they shared the room together. The smell of her perfume tangled with the faintest of smoke. That combination was ethched into his mind. Startling him from his memories, there was a knock on the door. They were forced to leave their comfortable silence. He reached for her hand unsure of what response he would get. She wanted to hold on but she paused and walked out ahead of him. Once, she had willed him to reach for her hand but not now. There had been too many conversations left unfinished. He turned back and looked at the burned out match. How could something so small represent something so significant he wondered. Hesitantly, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and left the room all the while knowing that although he could walk out of there, he would never be able to forget what happened there.

via Daily Prompt: Perfume

The Easter Hypocrite

5-Think-About-Easter-You-Need-to-Know_grandeNever mind the Easter Bunny, let’s have a look at the Easter Hypocrite. I’m sure there are many of us out there but I’m going to take myself as the prime example. Like most traditional Irish upbringings I was raised as a Catholic. I was baptised, I made my Holy Communion aged 7 and my Confirmation at age 12. In those years, you’re pretty much going through the motions of school and following the norms of society but it isn’t until you get a little older that you question the reasons and methods behind such an institution. I don’t think any of us need reminding of the recent findings from the mother and baby homes and I dread to think what other cruel truths are still to be revealed but with this, and many other scandals in it’s history, there is no denying that the Catholic Church, in Ireland at least, has done some irreparable damage.

So, as Easter is upon us I couldn’t help but look at myself and think that although I have little time for the Catholic Church, I am more than willing to take advantage of the perks of Easter. I can’t remember the last time I gave up something for lent and this year is no exception. I ate meat on Good Friday, in fact it didn’t even cross my mind if I’m honest. Furthermore, I didn’t attend any Easter ceremonies this year either. I again remember my school days where this week was filled with religious events  but now it’s just not the case. To top it all off I even tucked into an Easter egg on Thursday evening to celebrate the blissful four day weekend that lay ahead of me. There it is right there, I am more than happy to take my 2 days off work to “celebrate” Easter. I am more than happy to eat my Easter eggs too, although I did hear recently that they can no longer be referred to as Easter eggs, but that’s another story. It’s in these points that I find myself being stuck in a grey area. I had intended on going to mass last night and when it came to it, I just didn’t. At least at Christmas I go to mass, possibly one tradition I will continue but it’s more for the amazing choir in Blarney and the atmosphere in the village on Christmas Eve.

In spite of all this, I still find myself in situations where I will fall back on prayer if I’m worried about something or feel like I’m no longer in control. In saying that, when I do pray it’s more talk to than listing out Hail Mary’s. It used to be when I was a child but now it has evolved to just speaking to loved ones lost. Even then there is doubt speckled through my one way conversations because we don’t know what happens after this. I do believe in something, but I don’t know what that something is. I do have some faith.. but it certainly is not in the Catholic Church. I’ll leave it on that note and continue on with Easter Sunday despite the fact that for those lost in the grey area…it’s just another Sunday?


Image – Yahoo

Strength in Weakness

The last few days have left me feeling a little strange. I’m not sure what brought it on but I suppose it could be a culmination of things. As some of you will know the last seven or eight months my migraines have become much more frequent. Migraine is a complex business with no two people having the exact same combination of triggers and symptoms. You simply have to work out what those triggers are and avoid them as best you can. You have to manage it. There’s plenty of information on migraine out there so I’m not going to ramble on too much about it. The only reason I mention it is because during the week I went to an acupuncturist for a consultation. I don’t want to be on medication for the migraine long term so my plan is to gradually come off it and hopefully control it through acupuncture and yoga. Not so coincidentally, 7 or 8 months ago was when I stopped practicing yoga on a regular basis. The consultation fascinated me because it confirmed something I had suspected as to why migraines had become more frequent and that is grief. Although 16 years has passed since my father died I know myself that processing that loss has only really begun in the last three or so years. The whole thing kind of overwhelmed me. It’s strange even for me to try and get my head around the fact that I’m trying to deal with something that happened over half my entire lifetime ago. Of course it isn’t solely responsible for the migraines and there are other factors too but I am a firm believer that the mental and emotional state we are in manifests itself physically. It is our bodies way of communicating with us. The point of this wasn’t for me to get too bogged down in what I’m feeling but to say that it’s ok not to feel strong all the time. We all have this external armor that we put on to go out and face the world but sometimes you just have to accept that we are human. Even during my yoga class this morning I didn’t feel as secure and confident as I normally would in certain postures. Yoga is interesting that way because if you really are distracted and not truly present in the class it tells in your ability to hold a pose with ease. At that point I just accepted it. Normally yoga makes me feel strong. Something as simple as achieving a more difficult pose gives me a boost and strengthens my self belief in other areas of my life. But today I just felt a little less in control but I figured… that’s fine. I’m not going to feel that way everyday. That’s just how I feel today and that’s ok.

Swiss Swoo…

If I could wolf whistle at a country it would most certainly be Switzerland. How I ended up going there is as a result of my sometimes questionable spontaneous streak. That trait has brought me on some of my biggest adventures and although sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing I know that if nothing else I’ll have a story or two to tell as a result. I booked this mini trip in the pits of January when like many others I was craving something to look forward to and something to remind me that life is an adventure. Going solo was actually one of the best parts about the trip and despite some reservations about it I would do it again without hesitation.

I set off last Friday morning from Cork to make my way to Dublin airport. My flight to Geneva was departing at 17.15pm but ended up being about an hour or so late. Thankfully, the duration of the flight was just under 2 hours and with the exception of a bumpy landing it was a very pleasant journey. I had been warned that Geneva was an expensive city and I was prepared, or at least I thought I was. The currency is Swiss Francs and it’s relatively close to the euro when converted so when I say that my bottle of water was 6.50 Swiss Francs, it was more or less €6.50. I made my way to the hotel and my first impressions of the city were good. Even at 10pm at night I could see it was going to be a beauty when day light hit. I checked in and was delighted to find that the hotel was literally minutes from the lake. After roughly 11 hours of traveling I went to bed as soon as I had settled and was excited for the morning so I could explore.

On Saturday morning I woke at about 7am and pretty much jumped out of bed, had a quick shower and left for an early morning stroll. Breakfast could wait an hour or so as the weather was beautiful and I couldn’t wait to see what this picturesque little city had to offer. As the sun hid behind the clouds I could see the mountain peaks in the distance. There was a stillness to the lake that was so calm you would have seen even the slightest ripple. After about an hour of taking in my temporary surroundings I decided food was probably a good idea. I found a lovely little café where they made me a delicious bagle for breakfast. Although French is the language spoken in Geneva most people had adequate English for me to get by quite easily. I would have been comfortable enough with French anyway if necessary as my years of school french classes came flooding back. I was delighted to find that I actually understood and could grasp many of the conversations going on around me. After breakfast, I decided I should find the bus station where I was due to meet a tour later in the afternoon. It took me about an hour to find it and as it was still quite early I went back down to the lake. The Jet D’Eau fountain was now in action. When I had been to lake earlier in the morning it wasn’t but now it was. This huge fountain is one of the cities main landmarks and is the perfect addition to the horizon.

I spent most of my morning just walking up and down the lakeside taking in as much of the view as I could. For the afternoon I set off on seeing the rest of the city. Geneva is famous for the international quarters and plays host to some of the biggest international organisations in the world including the United Nations, World Health Organisation and UNICEF to name a fraction. One of the more unusual sites in Geneva is that of the giant broken chair which stands outside the United Nations. There is a relatively simple concept behind it, to remind us of the sufferings of landmine victims and to encourage the prohibition of such ammunition.

The highlight of my trip was Sunday morning. One of the main reasons I chose Geneva as a place to visit was because of the spectacular Chateaux de Chillon. It’s about an hour outside of Geneva but is easy to reach by train. Sunday morning I got the 9.30am train to Montreux. There was also the option to go via Lauseanne, another small town of equal beauty no doubt. The train station was literally about 1 minute from my hotel and although the return ticket set me back 62 francs, I figured when am I really going to have the chance to see this place again so I parted with the cash and found my platform. The views from the train alone let me know that I was heading for some serious scenes of mother nature at her best. I was blessed with another morning of good weather and all I can say was that Montreux did not disappoint. Breathtaking views welcomed me from the moment I stepped onto the main street. From having researched before leaving I knew it was possible to walk to the castle and that there should also be a bus. I hopped on the bus and after about 10 – 12 minutes it stopped across from the castle. It was surreal to be seeing the scenes in front of me, the same imagery that had prompted me to book this trip in the first place. To say I was in awe of the landscape around me is an understatement. I was speechless. I’ve always been more of a mountain admirer than a beach girl and that hasn’t changed. The vastness and clarity of the lake, the clouds floating down to meet the top of the mountains and the backdrop of blue were enough to put any post card to shame.

I also took a tour of the castle and wandered around throughout the grounds. It truly is one of the most beautiful places I have seen to date.

I reluctantly tore myself away after a few hours and headed back to Geneva. I could have stayed there admiring it for hours more but the train loomed in the back of my mind and the weather was starting to break anyway. I was grateful that I had sunshine for my visit as it really did make all the difference. The forecast for the weekend had not been good at all and so I think I was more than a little lucky to have gotten the weather I did. Back in Geneva it was colder and damper but after dinner I did one last stroll around before heading back for the evening and preparing for my trip back home. Geneva is such a pretty place and I would recommend a visit but I think 2 days is plenty here especially given the costs. All in all it was a fantastic trip which I thoroughly enjoyed and although only 7days ago it feels like a distant memory already which means I have all the more reason to plan my next holiday!

Chasing Worries

3f40de70ee61f85b8c53b261ba5b563fIn today’s society we’re constantly worrying. At times it can become so overwhelming it feels like you’re drowning. While a certain amount is okay sometimes it becomes unbearable. I’ve always been a “worrier” although I’m gradually learning not to continue labeling myself as one. Learning is the key word in that sentence. Learning about myself, learning about mindfulness, learning about self awareness and self compassion. Becoming aware of my thoughts and observing them as opposed to engaging with them has been a turning point in my own mental well being. Reacting to our thoughts is a reflex. It’s like a chain that can add link after link after link in a matter of minutes if not seconds often finishing at the worst possible result. So, a worry is born that can linger in our minds for hours, days, weeks or even months.

Eventhough I have gained some self awareness in terms of my thought patterns and worrying, I’m by no means invincible. My mind seems to have a way of chasing worries. Just when I accept that everything is actually okay it seems to bounce on to another or revisit a previous one without my awareness or knowledge. It’s as if my mind feels safer when worried about something. It’s familiar and allows me to continue trying to plan everything. Often, I won’t notice that my own mind has out smarted me yet again until I’m in the depths of another worry. When I’ve become worked up, when I start to re-run the whole situation or possible situation in my mind, when I stop being present in the moment I’m living and when I’ve become consumed with the “problem”. The mind is clever, subtle and stealth and manoeuvres until it gets its way

When I realise that I’ve spiraled into another worry,  it takes me a little while to accept that it has happened again. I am, more often than not, frustrated with myself for not recognising the signs earlier. I can be quite harsh on myself but I’m getting better at just accepting it and moving on. Once the initial acceptance has happened I tend to try and regroup and ground myself. I think about all the things I have learned up to this point. Everything I have learned about myself, tips I have picked up over the years and everything I have learned about the mind/body connection. I try to reconnect with those aspects of self care. Yoga and walking are always my two forms of exercise that ground and calm me. There is nothing more beautiful to me than stepping out into nature and just observing it. The colours, sounds, views. Combined they are incredibly soothing. The slightly hippy side of me is often a side not many people see but it is there and I love it! 😊

Being realistic, we’re never going to completely stop worrying but what we can try and do is reduce the amount that we worry and what we choose to worry about. There are things in life we can’t control, despite our best efforts, and accepting this is no easy task. There are times when you will just have to step back and hope that things work out. Personally, my biggest worries are about finances, health and security. Often these become interlinked also but I won’t delve into that. Ultimately, worry doesn’t achieve very much and people say that it’s a waste of good imagination. If only there were a switch we could flick when we over think and worry. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been an app designed for that yet but I’m sure some day in the not too distant future there will be! In the meantime all we can keep doing is try and stay grounded, observe thoughts rather than engage with them and instead of wasting that imagination, harness it to create something better and more productive.


Image – Yahoo images.