Lauren and I are moving house.

With our little ankle-biter on the way, we need more space.  So Casa Grundy will soon become Fort Grundy, complete with peek-a-boo bunkers, high-chair strongholds and nappy changing battlegrounds.

On Saturday, Lauren carted herself off to a local nail bar while I started packing.

As I was shoving all my books into boxes, I came across a copy of Dale Carnegie’s How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.

I’d completely forgotten I owned this book. 

As I’d been packing for at least 10 minutes by this point, I decided I deserved a break.  So I sat myself down, flipped the book open and came across an illuminating story about a lady called Thelma Thompson:

(in her words)

***

During the war, my husband was stationed at an Army training camp near the Mojave Desert, in California.  I went there to live there in order to be near him.

I hated the place. I loathed it.  I’d never been so miserable.  My husband was ordered out on manoeuvres in the Mojave Desert and I was left in a tiny shack alone.  The heat was unbearable.  Not a soul to talk to.  The wind blew incessantly and all the food I ate was filled with sand, sand, sand!

I was so utterly wretched, so sorry for myself, that I wrote to my parents.  I told them I was giving up and coming home.  I said I couldn’t stand it any longer.  I’d rather be in jail! 

My father answered my letter with just two lines – two lines that will always sing in my memory – two lines that completely altered my life:

Two men looked out from prison bars,

One saw the mud, the other saw the stars.

***

The book goes on to say how Thelma transformed her experience of living in the Mojave Desert.  She was so excited by this transformation she wrote a book about it.

I thought this was a neat story.  I thought that two line poem was prime Dimstagram caption material too.

But here’s the thing:

The first iteration of my banking career was a nightmare on loop.  And if someone had told me then that I could look out from the exhaustion, overwhelm and  “prison” of my job and see stars instead of mud, I would’ve thought they were two sandwiches short of a picnic.

There’s no way to see stars when you’re battling relentless deadlines and 16 hour days.

And even if I decorated my “prison cell” with cushions, candles and incense, I’m still in prison.

i.e. putting a positive spin on a bad situation doesn’t change the fact it’s still a bad situation at its core.

So while I love that two line poem, I have a different take.

Here’s how it looks to me now:

Those prison bars are made of smoke and mirrors.  It turns out we’re already free.

You don’t need to look at the stars instead of the mud or take a trip to Ikea to buy some fluffy cushions to decorate your drab and dreary cell.

You can step out of the prison cell instead.

This is honestly what’s made the difference for me.  It’s the reason I’m back in my old team, actually quite enjoying my work and my stress levels are at an all-time low.

The Sufi poet and mystic Rumi once said:

Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open?

I couldn’t put it any better myself.

If you’re stuck in your own prison cell and battling stress, overwhelm & exhaustion, I’ve been there too.  I know it can seem like there’s no way out.

But I also know that breaking free really is possible. 

That freedom might even be closer than you think.

If you’re ready to find more ease, calm and peace of mind, here’s your next step:

https://waitinglist.followingfulfilment.com