AND THAT'S PERFECT.

GOSH.

What a week it's been, in the world, and in my family.

Being INSIDE Iran when Soleimani was assassinated... Not knowing whether to panic. LIVING on a constantly-refreshed Twitter feed to understand the local and global sentiment... Then eventually moving our departure date slightly earlier, only to fly out mere HOURS before the Ukrainian plane crashed. And then, later, to hear the truth of that incident.

We landed in Johannesburg, and switched on our phones to a flurry of messages of friends, family and clients HOPING we were ok... ASSUMING they were correct; that we'd flown Emirates via
Dubai, and not Ukrainian via Kiev...

And now, back in our own lives, the slow decompression, debriefing and reconstitution.

It's all been very disorientating.

Our holiday BEGAN in a very heavily air-polluted Tehran. So much so that their schools had closed. It
progressed to time with family that was special but sub-optimal due to discovering that my mother-in-law is in extremely poor health, and hasn't been receiving decent care. And then ended with the threat of World War 3.

So it's been a LOT.

Those were the MACRO things...That, for sure, tainted our experience.

But there were MICRO experiencestoo, and I'm mindful that we remember MOMENTS, not even days. Some of the more special moments included:

• My husband and I had a lot of quality time...
  Many, many chats over copious cups of instant coffee... Coffee isn’t a ‘thing’
  in Iran, but time does stand still… We debated a lot.

• My children were blissfully unaware of global concerns, and giggled hysterically with their cousins and benefitted from an economy that favoured mass toy acquisition
• We breakfasted on the top floor of a hotel that had panoramic views of breath-taking snowy mountains.

But the holiday wasn't what I'd hoped for, nor what I’d envisioned.

And now that we’re back, unpacked, showered, with clothes at the laundromat, I'm trying very hard to
just 'feel like myself' again.

I said, in a webinar I presented in early December, that we can have fairy-tale fantasies of vacations. But often, stepping out of the hum-drum of life places our real life on steroids…

And so, sometimes, rather than just sleep, relaxation and new experiences, we also feel things more, notice (comfortable and uncomfortable) dynamics more, and cannot necessarily avoid what we’re able to duck and dive around from February to November (which is one of the reasons that we, as psychologists, get so many new business requests in early January)… “I’ve noticed some parts of me I really don’t like; can you help?”… “My marriage is really in trouble… we need to see you”.

So sunshine and roses isn’t all sunshine and roses… And sometimes it’s a relief to reintegrate into our normal life.

My husband and I comment, every year, that our annual break has been successful when we’re READY to do OUR life again. When we CRAVE the things that frustrate us by October… When we CHOOSE our reality, over any other. That’s when our holiday has done its job.

And so I’m sitting here at my desk, on a Sunday morning, piecing myself back together and reconfiguring what’s important.

My biggest lessons from the last 4 weeks are (clichés as they are):

1. “Everywhere I go, there I am”…

That stepping out of my world is lovely, but I still need to deal with myself, with my moods, my frustrations,
my anxieties, etc, wherever I am. That I don’t morph into the best version of myself, just because I’m in a beautiful place, or not working, or cleared customs… I still need to keep myself on a tight leash, manage my short temper, my impatience, my noise sensitivity, my introversion that gets me all overstimulated… I still need to be a responsible custodian with me, so I’m happy and calm, and so that I don’t unwittingly harm the people I care for.

2. That no truer a word was spoken than, “Be happy in this moment, for this moment is your life”.

We found ourselves in opulent 5-star hotels, with panoramic views of snow-capped mountains… We
found ourselves procuring medical masks (for protection) and queueing for hours with hordes of desperately ill people in government clinics to get my mother-in-law some semblance of care. We floated on tubes at Dubai water parks… And we shopped for days in Iranian department stores, because people we were with could not decide on which fridge best suited their needs. We bought colouring-in
books and wax crayons for the kids, and scrolled Twitter feeds on our hotel beds, rather than exploring the majesty of Iran, firstly for toxic air pollution, and then for the threat of World War III. And with each inner sigh of frustration, the gentle resignation and then peaceful surrender that this is it! This right here is the moment. This, and nothing at all else, is what life is all about… And if I can carry that revelation more
consistently back into my life, 2020 will be even more of a joy, a wonder and a comfort against inner struggles that plague us.

My husband kept semi-apologising, and bemoaning the ‘shit holiday’… Less because he felt it to be so, I think… And more because he was concerned I did… But my comfort back was consistently, “No! No! This is a great lesson… This reaffirms that we need to be content wherever we are… And we need to connect and ‘be’, firstly with ourselves, and then with each other…".

That’s a greater lesson, in all truth, than skiing in Tochal or hiking Durband, which we've done countless times anyway. Mindful presence in our own lives was perhaps a new one, and quite fitting on the back of a challenging but similarly growthful 2019.

So happy new year, dear reader, to you and yours, and wishing you a similar experience of conscious contentment in this highs and lows that will come, as we journey together in the twelve months before us.