I played this to my students at college today. I based a lesson around it (stolen from the amazing It’s lovely. One student started crying. Another student said something funny – after asking which statements they could remember, one said “Take a shower together.” Made the class chuckle. I also gave lectures today. It’s done. I feel accomplished. Achieved something new. Faced a fear. And with confidence too, if I do say so myself.


Here I am again. I’m fond of such affections, though this time around, I’m not feeling it, y’know? Perhaps it’s down to me, perhaps I’m not ready. Perhaps I can’t be bothered to play up to such new found affinity. Perhaps I just don’t fancy him enough. Perhaps he’s moving too fast {cue the Artful Dodger tune}.

Today, I’m reflective. Such reflection is brought on by blatantly ignoring opportunities for rest and a little bit of debauchery over of the weekend. Just a little bit. I feel so calm and relaxed inside. Like patterned waves are brushing their way over and through me, leaving a multicolour canvas of absolute brilliance. I love when I feel like this. It feels like oneness, like nothing should affect me. It’s a beautiful sense of absorption, pulsating in harmony with the world around me.

I’ve been pondering on where my life should go now that my course is over. I’ve achieved a qualification that I’ve been bringing to the forefront of my mind for at least a year now. And it’s happened. Just like that. Finished. Achieved. Such a build up and time just plucks me like a hair from the ground of mother Earth and plops me on the other side, where the grass is becoming greener through imaginary escapism.

I hear arguing in the background. Person J reacts in anger through guilt and her own stupidity. Person M puts forth her point because she cares. I put my earphones back in. They’re messing up my serenity. Selfish maybe, but such is the key to positive thinking.

Letting go is good for the soul. Cleansing. I’m finding it difficult to let go of one small thing: my business. I miss it dearly. Does that mean it’s my passion? I’ve taken up teaching to earn, to communicate, to meet new people and to achieve, to see if my life takes shape. All of what happened before this moment seems like a routed path, in reference to my career anyway. It’s a strange feeling the overcomes me when I piece together the pieces of rocky and unsteady path that has lead me to here today. It’s like a revelation. It’s like I can finally know why those dark times were there. It’s so I can feel like this. This wave of beauty that has been encapsulated by every bit of my grown being. I took up teaching English as a second language to earn, namely, but since I’ve finished, I’m faced with endless possibilities; beaches to explore, nations to endear to, people to befriend – the world is actually my oyster.

It’s like a whole new me.

From the positive thinking course at the beginning of the year, to the incessant health kick, to the regained consciousness, to finding an ease again in expressing myself through writing, to confidence in meet and greets, to utter dedication to self-growth.

Is it worth it without somebody? That won’t stop me exploring. But as the song I’ve had on repeat since I heard it on BBC Radio 1 on the bus home tonight says: “We don’t have to go without.”

That title refers to the absolute whirlwind of a course this EDI teacher training course is. Where the fuck am I? And what the fuck happened today?

The city centre classroom was abuzz with confusion, at times anger and other such high emotion. Any passer by at some point would have heard, “’s a fucking joke,” or “…I feel really nervous,” or the less linguistically styled sobs of a near hysterical trainee. Who’d have thought this would be the class of a soon to be fully qualified teachers.

I will not dwell, but I will allude to the positive.

Travelling to the city centre has been wonderful. I feel like I’m a part of life again, even if by communicating with strangers through a glance, or sitting with fellow trainees and random people on the gorgeously sunny Piccadilly Gardens, or just fucking leaving the house. It’s been lovely and restores confidence and makes me want to communicate and interact, which in the past was a skill that helped me obtain little victorious smiles throughout my day/s.

Other than that, just making new friends has been nice. To just get to know new personalities is a breath of fresh air and I guess I didn’t realise how much I’ve missed meeting people until this experience.

And yes, learning is a joy. Once I finish this course, if I make it out alive, I’ll continue learning, baby steps, increasing knowledge which increases my confidence and self-worth.

Anyway, I gots no time. Until next time!

I’m taking a dive in to the world of teaching. The form of teaching I profess is that of TEFL, which for anybody who is reading and doesn’t know is “teaching English as a foreign language.” It comes under many different guises, all amounting to the same thing. My other personal endeavour has taken a back seat somewhat whilst I assimilate myself to such a venture. The previous business is like my actual child and though I’m a man, it feels like I’ve actually given birth to it, so spending less time on it feels like the moral outcry of child neglect. It’s my passion turned business that doesn’t make a whole lot of money but gives me 10 times as much satisfaction. Of recent, that chasing of passion has somewhat deflated me. The passion remains intact but my thoughts and cravings are changing as I age past what’s deemed “young person”. I’m kidding myself on that, as it’s been a few years to what is labelled as a young person in the UK, but I think I’ve continued it for as long as possible. And had a bloody good time with it.

I digress. As usual.

My first official student is a 50+ year old bulbous father of three (or four, I can’t remember, despite the amount of times we’ve practised such conversation) from Saudi Arabia. His form is round, like a snowman, only darker. His hair lessens the further you trace up to the cone of his scalp so he has a thin mullet, without the mullet top, of which is replaced by a shiny baldness. He is short in stature and is rather very funny indeed. We’ve acquired a relationship by where he has opened up his personality, which at times is totally child-like and for me, quite endearing. I sometimes wonder how he manages to live in a foreign land without the caring and culturally submissive wife at hand. That is not to patronise, as he is a father and has lived his life as a teacher.

The English language is a wondrous thing, it’s a tool of communication and what I’m enjoying about teaching is the way in which writing seems to, at the moment anyway, come naturally. At times I’ve had such a block and I recognise mistakes but I am unaware of how to correct them. Now, I’m relearning tenses, the many irregularities and difficulties that verbs possess, particularly for somebody whose mother tongue is not English, ever more so when their language is far from European.

Slowly but surely it feels as though I’m partaking in life again, however temporary this particular student may be for me; the changes I wholeheartedly made at the beginning of the year are showing results.

Persistence, dedication, focus, will, strength of mind, maturity and even a few little requests to the universe, are what have made this possible. Really, anything you put your mind to is possible. They really are endless.