health

A Letter to Materialism

Dear Materialism

I don’t care much for you. Not anymore.

Oh but I used to. My goodness I was all about you. I think I may have been your biggest fan.

But, in truth, it was kind of an emotional relationship, perhaps verging on an abusive one.

I mean I constantly tried to get away from you, but there you were, lurking everywhere, telling me I wasn’t good enough without you.

On the TV, in the magazines, on social media, even in some of my friends houses.

You are so intrusive!

But I’ve left you now.

Good riddance to all the pressure you brought me.

I still see you lurking in the same old places but I call you by your other names now; fear, lack of self worth, shame. You don’t like that and it makes you shrink away a little more each day. Maybe one day you’ll vanish altogether.

Maybe.

I know that when I used to buy three outfits for a night out, only to wear something I already owned, that it wasn’t you, dear materialism, that made me do it, it was fear, it was because I didn’t think I was enough with what I already had, it was because I was worried I wasn’t good enough to just show up as me.

When I persistently bought ‘trinkets’ for my home it wasn’t you either, it was the fear that I wouldn’t be perceived as being good enough without them.

Every time I bought something I didn’t need to impress someone else, all I did was squash down the real feelings I needed to face. All I did was avoid looking at how much value I was placing on ‘things’ instead of on myself.

I see that now.

And now I value me above anything material. I value my happiness and my joy and I know that, for me anyway, that’s not found in a new pair of jeans, sofa or candle holder but in the rain hitting my face, the waves crashing against my body, the wind in my hair.

I don’t need or want you in my life to justify who I am anymore.

I love myself now and I’ve realised, finally, I’m happy just to be me.

So you can lurk wherever you want, because I don’t need you anymore.

And with my head held high, and self love in my heart, I can walk past you now, unaffected by your desire to tell me I’m not good enough.

Goodbye. I will not be shamed by you anymore.

Love, Fi xx

———

When I write these words, these letters, I personify the emotion and then I meet it and sit with it. It’s a wonderful healing tool for me. It really helps me to listen to and connect with my heart and soul.

Do you have a suggestion of what I should write to next?…comment below with suggestions (such as love, death, pain or joy) and I’ll see what I can do (I have a growing list – thank you!)

Like my words? Check out my book ‘How Long Have I Got?’ available now on Amazon WORDWIDE!

I am working on 3 more books. Join my mailing list via my website to be the first to find out when they are available www.fkmunro.com

Follow me on Instagram and Twitter @fkmunro

health

A Letter to Fear

Dear Fear

It’s a funny old relationship we have, you and me.

Sometimes I think while you stop others from doing things, you propel me forward.

What am I afraid of? I don’t really know. I’ve faced so much pain I’m not sure there is anything left to fear.

Over the years, in the past, I’ve felt the fear of not being safe in my own home, my own body and my own life.

But, as a result, I don’t fear death, pain or grief. I’ve befriended so many of life’s enemies that invoke fear in my peers.

Yet I do still feel you. I feel you when I open up to being vulnerability, to authenticity, to truth. But I power on. I keep facing you and opening my heart because in doing so I am uncovering myself, I am growing and learning and truly feeling all that life has to offer.

I am so grateful for you, my dear friend named fear because when I feel you I know I am pushing myself to the edges of my boundaries and, in doing so, I know I am growing into the best version of myself.

Thank you for being my marker, my flag, my guide.

This is the kind of fear I crave – but none of that shitty life threatening fear please…I’ve had my fair share of that already!

Love, Fi xx

—–

Read more in my books

Listen to my groundbreaking podcast on all podcast apps – search for ‘Live Like You Are Dying’

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter.

Book a place at one of my retreats.

—–

Fi is Currently:

Looking forward to a weekend of kayaking.

Resting after treatment yesterday.

Enjoying the imminent arrival of autumn.

Excited for Ewan’s birthday later this month!

health

Dear Cancer (a postscript)

Dear Cancer (a postscript)

I know I’ve said farewell already but I realised I still had a few more things left to say.

I’ve planned a ‘divorce ceremony’ to say farewell to you properly: to honour what you gave me as well as what you took. A proper goodbye.

Until then I’ll keep writing letters to you. I want to be sure there is nothing left unsaid when I say my final goodbyes to you.

Today I find myself reflecting on the fear that comes with saying farewell to you.

Yes fear.

I mean I don’t know who I am without you.

Yes that’s exciting, but it’s also terrifying.

I held on to you for so long because of this fear; because I was too scared to step into the unknown.

Not only do I not know who I am without you, but so many people in my life don’t know either. I mean, many of them met me after you came on the scene.

What if I don’t like the me that’s left? What if they don’t like me either?

What if, perhaps worse still, I discover I love myself more without you now and that I wasted time caught in the fear of letting you go?

But, while I’m scared I am also ready.

Feel the fear and do it anyway, they say.

I feel the fear of saying farewell to you, yes. But the fear of staying attached to you is far greater.

So I prepare to step into the unknown. I am taking a step of faith, trusting that the path I can’t yet see will appear before me before my foot hits the ground.

It’s time.

Love, Fi xx

—–

Read more in my books

Listen to my groundbreaking podcast on all podcast apps – search for ‘Live Like You Are Dying’

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter.

Book a place at one of my retreats.

—–

Fi is Currently:

Working on a new book idea.

Watching a wood pigeon make a nest in one of our trees.

Excited for some self care this afternoon.

Waiting for the arrival of autumn, my favourite season!

health

A Letter to Grief

Dear Grief

I used to be so angry at you.

I used to want to fight you.

I hated you.

The pain and suffering I felt when I felt you was suffocating.

I thought it was you that had taken those I love.

I thought it was you that had brought the pain and suffering.

But I realise now that I was wrong.

I’m sorry.

Please forgive me.

I know now that you didn’t take them. You are them. You are the love I feel for them now they’ve gone transformed into another form, another name.

You are what my love for them became.

As my love transformed into grief it was that space in between that caused the pain and suffering.

It wasn’t you.

It was your shadow.

You are still, of course, often harder to carry than the love I used to know and feel for them.

That felt warm and soft and comforting.

You can feel cold and lonely.

But you are a reminder of how much love I felt for them.

I’ve found that carrying you gets easier with time. The weight of you doesn’t get less but perhaps I grow stronger. Perhaps I am able to carry you with greater ease as more time passes. Perhaps my muscles grow stronger.

Or perhaps you have become a part of me, a crack in my heart that shows I’ve felt love transform into grief, that I’ve loved someone through to the other side of my own pain and suffering.

I’m still figuring you out but I don’t hate you anymore. Instead, when I feel your presence I try to transform you back to love. I remove the pain and suffering and focus on the feeling of love. I focus on my heart.

I remember the love.

Perhaps this is what makes me able to carry you with greater ease over time; not the growing of muscles but instead the lightness that comes as you transform back to love.

Yes, I’m still figuring you out but I’m happy to sit with you now, as friends, not enemies as we figure it out together.

Love, Fi xxx

—–

Read more in my books

Listen to my groundbreaking podcast on all podcast apps – search for ‘Live Like You Are Dying’

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter.

Book a place at one of my retreats.

—–

Fi is Currently:

Writing extracts for my ‘random act of kindness’ book.

Appreciating the imminent arrival of autumn.

Sitting in my summer house – my perfect writing sanctuary.

Listening to ‘The Highwomen’.

health

A Letter to Cancer

Dear Cancer

This is the hardest letter I’ve ever written.

You’ve been a part of my life for so long it’s hard to remember who I was without you; who I was before the day you arrived in my life.

In many ways I’m grateful for your arrival. You woke me up to a life I was taking for granted. You showed me that the job I was doing no longer served my soul (I sometimes wonder if it ever did). You illuminated the relationships that drained my heart and those that shamed my authenticity. You showed me all the dis-ease in my life.

You held my hand as I looked at the shadows in my soul; the grief, the trauma, the pain I’d tried to hide.

You striped me bare of everything I associated as myself. You made me look at what lay beneath all the layers I’d carefully orchestrated to create the facade of a perfect life.

Through the daily reminders of your presence (some days less subtle than others) you held me as I kept working through the pain.

You helped me to uncover a strength I never dreamed of owning. You introduced me to a hidden version of myself. A strong warrior.

With your guidance I discovered a tribe of people like me. A tribe of truth seekers.

I discovered a new way of living my life; with the truth of how precious each and every moment is.

You taught me how to feel joy and love; to really feel them radiate through me.

You put me on a path that I could never have even imagined; one so beautiful that I wake each day overwhelmed with gratitude to be alive.

For all of this I am forever grateful.

But, you also taught me to say goodbye to relationships that no longer serve me; to part ways when the time is right.

That time has come for us.

I’m ready, and excited, to discover who I am without you.

I will always be grateful for the lessons you gifted me, but now I need to say goodbye and step into a new version of myself – one that no longer requires you or your labels.

I’m saying goodbye, I’m bidding you farewell, I’m laying you to rest and returning you to source.

Goodbye old friend.

You are no longer welcome in this precious body or life of mine.

Farewell.

—–

Read more in my books

Listen to my groundbreaking podcast on all podcast apps – search for ‘Live Like You Are Dying’

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter.

Book a place at one of my retreats.

—–

Fi is Currently:

Planning a ‘divorce ceremony’ for my cancer…I’m being intentional on the fact that I no longer permit its presence in my life.

Reflecting on another amazing weekend of shamanic training.

Sitting on our sofa cuddling Ozzy.

Writing 3 new books!

health

The ‘Ugly Yoga’ Challenge

I’m launching an ‘Ugly Yoga’ Challenge on 1st September 2019 and I really hope you’ll join me!

In just 5 minutes a day you can change your life and it won’t cost you a penny!

Read on to find out how!

WHAT IS UGLY YOGA

‘Ugly Yoga’ stems from my passionate belief that yoga isn’t about having the ‘perfect’ mat, clothes, body, posture (insert any other ‘perfection’ that’s ever put you off going to a yoga class).

It also doesn’t require you to have ‘perfect’ health either!

Instead, I believe yoga is about connecting with your heart and soul and moving your body in a way that nourishes YOU and your individual needs!

It really doesn’t matter how your poses ‘look’. What matters most is how they make you ‘feel’!

When I say ‘ugly yoga ’ I want you to think about the story of the ‘ugly duckling’ who transformed into a swan…your ‘ugly yoga’ too will transform you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine!

MY STORY

I’ve been practicing ‘ugly yoga’ for nearly 4 years. Before that, I used to go to yoga classes trying to do ‘perfect yoga’, I was training for London Marathon, I was also weight training and seeing a personal trainer. Admittedly, I was one of those yogis that was trying to appear ‘perfect’.

What unachievable bullshit!

In January 2016, aged just 30, I was diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer.

Since then I’ve trained as a yoga teacher specialising in adult ashtanga yoga, children’s yoga, pregnancy yoga, pre and post natal yoga and baby yoga.

I have a colostomy bag, a pneumothorax (hole in my right lung) and lung tumours. I’ve have multiple organs removed during major surgery including a complete hysterectomy and splenectomy. Most importantly, I’m still alive!

To say I understand the human anatomy, holistic health and yoga would be a massive understatement! I can guarantee whatever you’re feeling…I’ve been there too!

BUT through it all I’ve done yoga every single day (yes, even when I was in hospital). I’ve taught classes and one to one and I’m now running yoga retreats in Scotland with Integrative Retreats.

I believe that yoga is for EVERYONE! And I get super frustrating with the western view that yoga has to look a certain way.

When I trained as a yoga teacher one of the fundamental aspects I was taught was about the philosophies of yoga and it’s role in nourishing us as a whole – our mind, body and spirit. We were never taught that yoga was about having washboard abs or ‘nailing’ a particular pose. That’s all ego led nonsense!

Understanding this important differentiation is something I reference as significant to my physical and emotional healing in my book ‘How Long Have I Got?’

When I stopped trying to do ‘perfect’ yoga and stopped comparing myself to others and what I couldn’t do, I discovered that my body was capable of so much more than I ever imagined!

I also discovered that 5 minutes each day doing yoga that nourished my body is far better than zero minutes!

Of course, some days I do more. Some days I do 90 minutes when I’m feeling good and in flow with my body! But I never set this as the goal. I always set the goal at a manageable and non threatening 5 minutes. Because we can do anything for 5 minutes…even when we feel rubbish and unmotivated!

THE ‘CHALLENGE’

So, I am starting a different kind of yoga challenge. One that doesn’t promise to get you doing a headstand in two weeks – although you might and that’s great if it feels nourishing for you.

Instead this challenge promises to help you connect with, love and learn from your unique and special body.

And, best of all, it’s suitable for everyone, regardless of your health situation or any other circumstances.

All you have to do is commit to 5 minutes of yoga every morning for 30 days.

Just 5 minutes.

You don’t need a yoga mat or fancy yoga clothes.

You don’t even need a yoga studio.

All you need is 5 minutes.

You can do ‘ugly yoga’ in your pjs or your gym clothes…hell you can even do it naked if you like (you badass you!)

You can do it in a chair, on your bed or even in your bathroom – I know that’s the secret place you busy parents hide from your kiddies when you need 5 minutes…yes you!

All you have to do is carve out 5 minutes each day where you put on some relaxing music (I have a free yoga playlist on Spotify under ‘Fi Munro Yoga’) and just stretch and move your body how it wants to move.

Some days you’ll do big stretches and lots of downward facing dogs, other days you might sit and gently twist your body from side to side. There might even be some days where you just lie on your back in shavasana for 5 minutes.

And do you know what? That’s all perfect!! As long as you are listening to what your body needs for at least 5 minutes then, I assure you, you are nailing ‘ugly yoga’ my lovely!

HOW TO GET INVOLVED

Starting 1st September 2019 commit to just 5 minutes each day for one month where you stretch your body in ways that feel nourishing to you. That’s it!

Take pictures or videos or write about how ‘ugly yoga’ is making you feel and share it all with me using @fkmunro and #uglyyoga or #uglyyogachallenge

You’re going to be amazed at how different you feel! Seriously!

AND I’m going to join you too by posting live videos of my ‘ugly yoga’ each day across my social media channels.

Are you in?

Love, Fi xxx

—–

Read more in my books

Book into one of my workshops.

Listen to my groundbreaking podcast on all podcast apps – search for ‘Live Like You Are Dying’

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter.

Book a place at one of my retreats.

—–

Fi is Currently:

Listening to my yoga playlist on Spotify.

Feeling grateful for a day in the sea.

Loving life and the gift of being alive.

Admiring the sunflowers on my kitchen table.

health

I Didn’t Know Before

I’m sorry…I didn’t know before what it was like….

To love someone and watch them be diagnosed with incurable cancer.

I have, of course, felt the pain of being diagnosed myself.

I’ve managed the emotions of others as I tell them good news and bad…the highs and the lows…always underpinned by the fact that I’ll never be cured…that my cancer is terminal…that treatment is just ‘buying us precious time together’.

I often suspected it was worse for them than it was for me….the ones who were watching…the ones who love me…the ones who would be left behind…afterwards…

When I felt pain; when I was sick; when I couldn’t get out of bed; when I was in a wheelchair; when I was kept alive by a drip…at least I knew how I felt, at least I knew what I needed…they, however, just had to watch…they just had to hope that their words were enough while they lived with the fact that they could never take it away from me; the pain; the illness; the suffering…no matter how much they wanted to.

For the past 3.5 years it is mainly those who love someone with cancer that message me…asking for advice, for hope, for answers, for anything I can suggest that they can do to help the person they love with cancer…

Reflecting on this, and reflecting on my own loved ones, I often thought it must be harder to watch someone you love have cancer than to have it yourself…

I often thought…

But now I know…

Now I know it’s harder.

Now I have to hold the hand of someone I love…

Now I have to be the one who would do anything to take away the pain; to make it all better; to fix them…

Now I know for sure…

I preferred it when it was just a thought…

To everyone who loves someone with cancer…now I see you…truly see you…because now I am your sister too…now I am no longer just a woman who stands with her fellow cancer warriors…now I stand with you too; now I am one of you; now I know for sure that the pain you face is harder.

I love you, Fi xx

Note: I will not be disclosing who has been diagnosed, just that I love them – it’s their story to share, not mine.

But it’s not my Ewan 🥰

Fi xxx

—–

Read more in my books

Listen to my groundbreaking podcast on all podcast apps – search for ‘Live Like You Are Dying’

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter.

Book a place at one of my retreats.

—–

Fi is Currently:

Cuddling Ewan on our sofa.

Reflecting on everything I’m learning through this crazy journey of life.

Decluttering our home and creating more space for love.

Reading ‘when the body says no’…a great book about stress!

health

How You Spend Your Time Is How You Spend Your Life

Your time is the most precious thing you have – far more precious than money because once spent it can never be re-earned.

Yet, so often, we waste time we don’t have doing things we don’t want to do trying to impress people we don’t even like!

If you want to live your best life, chose how you spend your time carefully…don’t waste it doing things you don’t want to do, that don’t bring you joy.

Spend it doing things that make your heart sing and your soul happy.

Don’t waste it with people who bring you down, who drain you or who are toxic.

Spend it with people who lift you up, who bring out your best qualities and who energise you.

Don’t spend it doing things that are mediocre or meaningless to you.

Spend it doing things that make you feel grateful to be alive.

Above all, spend it doing things that make you want to scream ‘this is so f*cking awesome’.

Because, at the end of the day, you don’t get the day back to relive again.

Today I am feeling so grateful for relationships that bring me joy and laughter, that lift me up, that challenge me to be the best version of myself and who says ‘Fi you’ll love this [insert adventure]’ and are always sooo right!

I welcome more of this into my life…more joy, more love, more adventure and more moments when I can say…thank you thank you thank you for my health for enabling me to have all of this amazing fun while spending my precious time.

I spend my time doing things that make me happy with people that I love…do you?

Love, Fi xxx

—–

Read more in my books

Book into one of my workshops.

Listen to my groundbreaking podcast on all podcast apps – search for ‘Live Like You Are Dying’

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter.

Book a place at one of my retreats.

—–

Fi is Currently:

Listening to the kettle boiling.

Looking forward to some focused book writing this week.

Grateful for time with people I love.

Loving the smell of fresh flowers on my kitchen table.

Excited for Secret Cinema in London next weekend.

health

Our Pain Does Not Take Away From Our Beauty

Walking through the woods recently I spotted a brilliant tree (well, let’s be honest, aren’t they all brilliant) with wood worm eating away at one of its branches.

What struck me in that moment was that the woodworm ‘damage’ did not take away from the greatness of the tree; it did not dampen its beauty; nor reduce its strength; it did not change its power; or alter its ability to grow roots and share oxygen; it did not stop the tree from housing birds; from offering shelter; from basking in the mid afternoon sun.

No. The tree remained beautiful, powerful and able to do all that it was here to do.

The same too can be said of our bodies and our minds too.

When they, to the untrained eye, appear ‘damaged’ they are still able to do so much, they still hold so much beauty and so much strength.

We’d do ourselves, and all of humanity, a favour if we were to learn what the trees have to teach us, for they know so much about growth, renewal and life.

What ‘damage’ or ‘trauma’ in your life has led you to become more beautiful, strong and unique?

Love, Fi xxx

—–

Read more in my books

Book into one of my workshops.

Listen to my groundbreaking podcast on all podcast apps – search for ‘Live Like You Are Dying’

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter.

Book a place at one of my retreats.

—–

Fi is Currently:

Listening to Xavier Rudd on Spotify.

Looking forward to a mug of herbal tea in the garden.

Grateful for today.

Loving the deep and precious friendships I’ve made over the past few years.

Excited for all of the opportunities coming to me.

health

A Life Of Peace – Scan Results

This cancer ‘journey’ can be full of twists and turns and highs and lows.

Most of all, it can be full of surprises.

Recently I had the surprising news that my abdominal tumours had resolved and it ‘appeared’ that the only remaining tumours were two in my right lung. This opened up the potential for unexpected treatment options including lung surgery or SABR radiotherapy. It was exciting and terrifying and, to be honest, I wasn’t overly keen on either….I mean, my previous experience of cancer surgery was hardly ‘simple’.

However, before these treatment options could be confirmed as viable I had to have a PET scan.

Previously I had only ever had CT scans. During these you are injected with a contrast dye that is great at showing abnormalities in the body (such as tumours), but they don’t always show up everything and they also don’t show how ‘active’ the abnormalities are.

PET scans, however, work in a different way. For a PET scan you are injected with a radioactive glucose mixture. Beforehand you fast for 6 hours so that your ‘normal’ cells are forced to use other energy sources such as your fat. Cancer cells aren’t able to use other energy sources (they need glucose) and so when the mixture is injected it goes straight to any active cancer cells in the body. The radioactive part of the mixture then makes these cells ‘glow’ on the scan. It’s amazing eh?! This was helpfully explained to me by the radiographer doing the scan.

So I had my first PET scan a couple of weeks ago and then I waited, not so patiently.

Today I got the results.

I must admit, as soon as I was told I was getting the results I knew they were not going to be good news. I had this deep sinking feeling in my stomach that I’ve never had before.

‘You just want to get straight to the results don’t you?’ My oncologist asked, knowing me so well after 3.5 years of caring for me. I should highlight, again, that she is incredible. I mean I have never met another consultant so focused on person-centred care. She really is a joy and I feel so lucky. I know this isn’t the case for every cancer patient in the world.

Sorry…’just get to the point’…I’m sure you are muttering.

So the scan confirmed that yes the two lesions in my right lung are very active and growing…nothing surprising about that.

It also showed that the lesion above my heart that had been visible on the previous two CT scans is in fact active and not ‘dead’ as we had hoped. This means no lung surgery for me as it would be far too risky.

Also, it showed some activity in my lymph nodes including one under my right armpit and one in my upper abdomen. This is not good. Everyone with cancer knows that it being in your lymphatic system is more than a little shite.

And yet, still, I find myself oddly calm and at peace and here’s why…

Stay with me, things might get a little ‘woohoo’ for some…

When I bought my 1996 VW T4 Campervan recently (if you missed that news flash I have no idea how as I have posted a billion photos!…well at leats 4 or 5 haha) I wanted to give it a name.

While Ewan and I were on our test drive the name Alfonzo came to me. It sounded kinda cool and I thought to myself ‘OK, this is what the van wants to be called‘. Then, when I got home I looked up the meaning of Alfonzo and was surprised to discover that it means ‘ready for battle’.

Even better,’ I thought, ‘The perfect name for a warrior’s van.’

But then something weird happened when I was driving the van yesterday.

As you may already know I am training to be a shaman. This means that I work with the spirit of things, energy and intuition (amongst other ‘stuff’ I’ll save for a future post).

So, it wasn’t unusual for me that when I drove the van to hospital for my treatment yesterday that I got a sense that the van wanted to be called Winifred, not Alfonzo. Yes, you read that right, the van wanted it.

‘Winifred doesn’t sound anywhere near as cool as Alfonzo‘ I thought, ‘So that’s not happening.’

Well, when I left hospital the van wouldn’t start for me. I sat in that car park for over an hour trying to start it, only to have Ewan rescue me and it start first time.

OK, maybe you can be called Winifred‘ I thought.

So, here’s where it gets freaky – yes that wasn’t the freaky stuff.

When I looked up the meaning of ‘Winifred’ I was amazed to discover that it means ‘joy, peace and reconciliation’ – the exact opposite of what Alfonzo means! Crazy eh?!

Now, here’s the thing. I now think this was some kind of crazy, insight, instinct, message from the universe (call it what you will) that I just need to let go, slow down, be at peace and reconcile any pain, trauma or grief that I’ve been carrying around with me.

And that, my dear lovelies, is exactly what I’m going to do, because firstly, what is the alternative? I wallow and mope and waste the fact that, right now, I still feel surprisingly well (compared to most other stage four cancer patients, not compared to healthy people I hasten to add) and secondly, my precious instinct has served me well up until this point so who am I to ignore her wisdom now.

As I move forward through the uncertainty of living (yes LIVING) with stage four cancer, I will not fight it, I will not desperately look for ‘the magic cure’, I will not read book after book in search for the answer that may have been missed elsewhere and I will not be angry that this is happening to me (most of the time – sometimes I will shout ‘f*ck this‘ at whoever happens to be listening or in earshot).

No, instead I will use it as a catalyst to live my life, and what a beautiful life it is, filled with love and joy and adventure!…and now I will work at bringing peace and reconciliation into my life too…because it’s needed, boy o boy, is it needed!

Above all I will strive to live like I am dying, to practice what I preach and to find the good and the gratitude in each and every day because isn’t that all any of us can do in our pursuit of happiness and fulfilment; to live a life to it’s fullest and to focus on what we have rather on what we have lost?

My cancer may never my cured, but it is certainly the tool through which I am healing my life. And that feels pretty good to be honest. It’s certainly better than living the life I lived before, filled with drama, anger, stress and unfulfilment. No thank you! Life is too short for that nonsense!

Now, on a much more serious note, what on Earth am I going to name my campervan?

With love in my heart for you all for reading my words and sharing my story.

Thank you, Fi xx

Read more in my books

Visit me at one of my workshops.

Listen to my groundbreaking podcast on all podcast apps – search for ‘Live Like You Are Dying’

Follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter.

Stay on one of my retreats.

—–

Fi is Currently:

Loving my precious life.

Feeling grateful to still be alive.

Sitting on our sofa wrapped in a blanket after a lovely afternoon on the beach with Ozzy.

 Waiting for Ewan to come home with a takeaway because who would cook on scan result day?