give me wings . . .

I am not much sure I am an adventurous spirit I must confess, well at least not in the conventional way. Even though I fear this makes me sound incredibly boring I am a creature of homely comfort. I am quite content with my big comfy white chair, a fabulous book, my laptop, and a quality cup of coffee. Throw in a rainy Sunday morning and I am in bliss.Yes I know I am probably making you yawn!

I could write and tell you about my trek through the rainforests of Thailand on an elephant, kayaking in Vanuatu, camel riding in the Australian outback, para-sailing over the Great Barrier Reef, Jet skiing, horseback riding, being thrown off the back of a dirt bike into mud, swimming with dolphins, mountain climbing, giving birth to three children (hey don’t knock it, it’s an adventure all right), helicopter rides, roller-coaster rides, and I have eaten all sorts of weird and wonderful cuisines. I could go on and yes I have truly done all these things!

There is still more I want to do and experience, I want to travel far and wide and take in so many cultures, but right now I am content. And not content in a ‘boring sense’, but in a sense that I feel I am exactly where I want to be, I am at home within myself.

The truth is I may love sitting in my comfy chair, but this is chair is not what it seems . . . Oh no don’t be fooled by it’s beautiful provincial throw rug, or delicate Warrick fabric, this oversized chair is where the magic happens. Where my thoughts, reflections and passion for words come to life.

If you have read my words before you will know I admire the work of Enid Blyton, in fact it was Enid Blyton whose books inspired me to allow my imagination to come to life. For me this big white chair is my ‘wishing chair‘. When I curl up with my laptop on my knee my chair begins to grow wings.

Tap.. tap.. tap.. on the keyboard, my fingers barely keeping up with my mind . . . the wings start to sprout, and then . . . they grow into the most beautiful wings you can imagine, wings made of pearl, spun silver flickers reflecting the sunlight . . . they begin to flap ever so gently and I feel the gentle breeze caress my neck . . .suddenly the legs on my chair wobble and then rock . . . the breeze so gentle only moments before is now gusting about, my long brown hair blows across my face, I can barely see yet I can not stop my fingers from tapping away at increasing speed. Suddenly my chair takes flight . . .

OK, I guess I have established that for me my writing is an adventure. It is one of the most fulfilling, and breathtaking adventures I have ever been on. Right now I don’t need to ski the slopes of Switzerland, or set sail across the Tasman Sea, I am exactly where I want to be.

The adventure to get here wasn’t easy, there were times I lost my map, and times the mountain just seemed to high. But here I am carried by the wings of a chair, and perhaps a prayer to this pinnacle with the most magnificent, awe inspiring view. This view is my home, it is my coming home to me, to who I have always known deep down inside I was meant to be. My children, my husband, my writing, my breath, my soul, my everything is right here. So my adventures are not so exciting in the conventional sense of the word, maybe to many they are “boring”, but as anyone with a dream, a passion would agree,

“when you find your true self there is nowhere in this world you’d rather be!“

Thanks for joining me, love Mackenzie xx

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