Becoming Jonathan Livingston Seagull
or a reminder to break free from our self-imposed limitations
Hello! Before we get into the coffee for this week, here is a reminder of the upcoming events - dare I say it - in October!
No Panic! Getting your head around anxiety.
2nd October 7pm for 45 minutes.
You can participate in this event without any pressure. You don't need to worry about having your camera on or interacting. There are no breakout rooms - it's a relaxed workshop style - an informative session about living with anxiety and supporting others. I am a patron of the national anxiety charity No Panic. As well as being a mental health and wellbeing expert and living with panic disorder and generalised anxiety disorder.
Sign up for a free spot. A replay will be available, plus paid perks for my paid subscriber community.
Calm at work! Managing panic attacks with confidence.
29th October 12.15pm for 45 minutes.
This is a webinar, and no recording is available. The talk will focus on the workplace and how to support people who might be experiencing a panic attack.
Finally, if you are interested in Transformational Breathwork, come to my class in London, which is being held in collaboration with Hello Love at their dojo in Holborn.
Sunday 27th October 1pm for 90 minutes.
Hello, how are you feeling today?
I am full of snotty cold. I am not surprised; I know I am ready for a rest. However, I’ve also been in rooms with many people every day this week, so it was only a matter of time before I picked something up. It’s that kind of annoying cold which does not quite warrant actual bed rest, but doing anything feels like hard work. It is also me saying, I am sorry for any typos this week, my head feels full of cotton wool.
I am writing this on Friday afternoon. Early this morning, I bumped my car in the car park. It was grey and raining heavily. I thought I was paying attention, but I appeared to miss the small silver bollard, which took a chunk out of my car. I was surprised by two things, demonstrating that even though I am ready for a holiday, I am not burnt out or overwhelmed.
The first being I did not cry.
I just stared at the boot and the plastic on the floor. The bollard escaped unharmed.
Second, I didn’t panic. Instead of writing this article early, which was the plan, I went to Costa to fill out an insurance claim form. Everything seems to be okay, and aside from my pockets now being dented with the excess bill, it will all be resolved.
No one got hurt, and no one died.
Unlike 40 years ago tomorrow (28th September), my dad died in a tragic car accident.
I know. I’m sorry to drop that in.
He was there one minute, and the next, he was gone.
I did think this morning, after I had sent my Mum a WhatsApp to say I had a car accident, that probably was not the best thing to do. But I also know my mum (like me) doesn’t dwell on anniversary dates, so she was okay.
I am heading home to Derbyshire tomorrow for a wedding and to visit my mum and dad – my stepdad, who I call and who has been my dad since I was eight. But it will be an opportunity to visit the crematorium and the Book of Remembrance. I try to do this at least once a year, and sometimes, it doesn’t always align with the anniversary date, having lived away from Derbyshire for some time. Yet, I take the time to connect and think about my dad regularly in many different spaces. I don’t always feel like I must go to the crematorium to remember him. I see and speak to him whenever I need support and guidance.
I sense my dad when I am out running, especially when racing, he was a big runner. I ask him to help me when I’m struggling or need that extra push to keep going to the finish line. I wear a locket with a photo of us together on our last holiday. He comes as a talisman with me to interviews, important meetings, and when I travel. I channel him when I do anything on stage or out of my comfort zone. He was a great performer, and I see that in my brother David.
He died when he was 34 years old. As a young person, 34 felt old to me. At 46, and as every year passes, I realise how young he was. When he died, he left behind a young wife and two small children.
My dad was the embodiment of zest and possessed a passion for life. He travelled the world in the Navy from a young age – I think he was about 16 when he joined. He played the guitar and entertained crowds of people. My Nan used to tell me that he just lit up a room with his presence. He had that gravitas and a gift for connecting with people with his friendly and easy manner. I am like him in many ways, and I grew up with his free spirit.
He built an insurance firm from a shed at the bottom of our garden, and by the time he died, he had an office block in Derby city centre. I remember going there in the 80s and meeting two of his secretaries. I recall them being glamorous, with nice hair, suit outfits paired with court shoes and red nails – remember the “Working Girl” movie stereotype of the time. I always ask my Mum if he would be proud of me running my business. My ninth business anniversary is next week, so he would have loved to be involved, especially with my insurance clients. He probably would be telling me what to do all the time.
His entry in the Book of Remembrance includes a quote from Richard Bach’s novella Jonathan Livingston Seagull. I remember maybe 10-15 years ago, looking up the quote and reading the book, which profoundly affected me.
“He gives me flight
He makes me young
For both I am deeply grateful.”
In summary, Jonathan Livingston Seagull is an allegorical fable about a seagull trying to learn about flying, personal reflection, freedom, finding a higher purpose, and self-realisation. Yes, it is very intense and beautiful. It reminds us that societal norms do not define our lives, and we can break free from limitations to pursue our passions and dreams. Jonathan feels different from the other seagulls in his flock because he doesn't see flying to find food but rather to experience the joy of flying.
He believes there is more to life than just survival. He is determined to learn everything he can about flying. The story encourages the reader to embrace individuality, practice resilience, and recognise our unlimited potential. It is also about chasing our dreams fearlessly – something my dad did in his short life. Spending time talking with my best friend over dinner last night, I reflected on my life, and this is precisely what I have tried to do, which doesn’t always look like “success” to others. I have spent lots of my time and energy trying to explain to others why I have taken different pathways. I stopped doing this a few years ago, and I love how varied, courageous and different my life has been.
The meaning of this story is beautiful. It sums up how I want to continue with my life by chasing dreams fearlessly, and I know my dad will continue to be proud of me for doing so.
Not long ago, I wrote a post about dusting off your dreams when I started as a presenter on local radio. When was the last time you chased yours?
How do you pursue your passion for life?
How do you embrace your uniqueness and recognise that unlimited potential?
If you are reading this, if you have lost a parent at any point in your life, whether you are young or old, whether it was 40 or 4 years ago, whether this pain is new for you. I want you to know I understand. Grief unites us and can make us feel less alone. Knowing others are navigating this, too. I don’t think it gets easier; I will cry at a movie when a dad dies even now. All I know is that the pain feels less present unless I dig into those memories. I learnt the impermanence of life at a very young age, and I have always tried to keep a balance of remembering this to ensure I immerse myself in all that life has to offer.
You may not know that I am a qualified grief first aider and a grief coach. If you want to explore how I work in this space, please get in touch with me. I would love to chat about how grief coaching can help you move forward.
I leave you with one more quote from the book of Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
“Don’t believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation.”
Until next week, please do take care.
Coops x ☕️💛
Awwwwww you can bet your bottom dollar I’ll be looking up this story of the seagull - seems it represents all the things we have in common. Big love to you and to the girls dads gone too soon ❤️
Great read as always!
Unfortunately I have another commitment on Wednesday 2nd.
Sandie