Rachel Lindley
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Barnsbury on a saturday morning

17/2/2018

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I live in a little bit of Islington called Barnsbury, it's the west side of Upper Street towards Kings Cross and Camden. I'm at the south end and Kings Cross is a short walk west along the canal. If you're a northerner like me, this means it's walkable to the train to friends and family back home which is ideal.

I bought here at a time when the canal walk to Kings Cross didn't greet you with The Lighterman, Granary Square, and And Other Stories, and so I could grab a little bit of space to call my own. I love it and whilst I complain about no garden and no spare beds etc, I am so lucky to have found a community in this village within the Big Smog.
So here I am, starting my Saturday from this little place. I've been for a swim at Camden Council's Pancras Square pool and I've come home to some Café Direct Organic Fairtrade Machu Picchu coffee and a Pastel de Nata I picked up from Galeta's stall at the Real Food Market at Kings Cross yesterday. 
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I drink lots of different types of coffee, but Café Direct was the first fairtrade certified coffee in the UK and they don't stop their work with a certification, so I like to keep buying from them. That little mug I picked up in the Design Museum gift shop in Copenhagen a couple of years ago, thinking it would be a gift to my part-Danish ex-boyfriend but since we never survived my return from the holiday, I kept it and love it so much! It's by Studio Arhoj and on finding the link for this post I've realised it's stocked in Islington at Twentytwentyone! The Denby has sentimental stories as my family all bought bits for me in waves when I was starting to build my nest solo, so my crockery doesn't match but I love it all. And that's a terrible cafétiere; I don't know who thought metal ones were a good idea, they scrape every time you plunge and it kills the coffee moment. 
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Johannes factotum

6/11/2017

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In the digital world, people like to define themselves simply and, generally, as a specialist. You see this on Twitter feeds, blogs and podcasts. The ones which I stumble across most are:  
- foodie - chef - journalist - broadcaster - classical singer - jazz pianist - mum - wife - PR - CEO - artist - beautiful person - fitness fanatic - feminist - photographer - woman - man - celebrity -

Being clear about what you are gives a digital presence focus and marketability: a brand identity. People sometimes add a second or third string to their bow, and become 'mum & foodie', 'broadcaster & journalist', 'feminist & quite hot with it'. Those who claim to be many things often still unify their identity with something else, something perhaps a little less obvious or tangible: 
 - influencer - lifestyle guru - witty writer - well-connected - 

This way of working gives people like me an identity crisis. What AM I? What should I be focussing on? Where is my direction? What subject should my blog be about? What would people want to read? What would be scalable? But I don't have a single thing and I don't want a single thing. Where is the space for that? 

Young people generally don't know what their 'thing' is yet, even if they are to become a specialist. It's no wonder social media is causing anxiety. Quite apart from the fact that it is a constant noise, a bright screen, highly judgmental, and leaves people open and vulnerable, it puts pressure on your inner self to stop exploring, be an expert already and start reacting.

As soon as we stop learning, stop exploring and start reacting we have put a restriction on our ability, on our life choices, on the joy we can discover and the beauty we can see. To become a polymath is a wonderful thing. To be a Jack of All Trades is highly useful in a society which is moving so fast that those who can adapt and cope with the change will be those who are highly sought after. Where is the space for that, and are we encouraging it?
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Thoughts on divorce (part 2)

21/8/2017

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When I was about 11, I crashed a quad bike. I was looking behind me to see how far ahead I was and, when I turned back around, there was a tree approaching. So I shut my eyes and put my arm out. The arm broke. It turned out the brakes would have worked better.

I remember adopting this most excellent strategy at various times when I got divorced; I shut my eyes. My amygdala didn't have a more suitable approach to adopt in its library. (Or however the brain works.)

I wouldn't read things that came to me -- letters of advice from vicars I had met once, or letters of empathy. I put legal documents quickly in a black envelope folder, reading as little as possible. When asked questions, I agreed to things I probably should have challenged. I was maxed out on confrontation. I froze at a party, with tears running down my face, as a friend questioned me how I could have done that; he had thought we were cut from the same cloth.

There are so many feelings at play with any break up, and they combine to make something that often feels too big. The feelings that have come to mind as I write this don't sit alongside each other well, and I think therein lies the problem. They combine to create a massive version of 'I want the hide under the duvet'.

Pain -- you part from someone you love(/d) and with whom you have entwined your life.
Excitement -- at new paths ahead.

Confidence -- in a decision you think is right.
Guilt -- at having confidence in a decision others think is wrong.

Liberation -- as you step away from something weighing you down.
Frustration -- at the weight of baggage that remains, and that it's not a blank canvas straight away.

Surprise -- at the level of public interest in parts of your life that are deeply private.
Urge to explain -- the situation to people whose business it isn't.

Confusion at the collision of these.

I haven't got a magic strategy for negotiating this time, and your amygdala may do something different, but equally useless. Friends can be rubbish, faith doesn't always help, and Gods sometimes don't fix things. But, with time, we contemplate coming out from under the duvet, having a shower, a cup of tea, and going for a walk. Trust me, we really do. 
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    Lifestyle blog.
    A space for my thoughts of all kinds, so don't be surprised if you get flats, Islington, london, politics, faith, feminism, music, musings, life, holidays, beer, cats or anything else I trip over in my life.

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  • Things Rachel does...
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