Tag Archives: Hope

The Kindness Diaries – Inspiring kindness, giving hope, sharing love, oceans apart.

Courtesy of http://www.leonlogothetis.com

” The world is filled with travelers. Some travel by force, some by choice. But for some of us, it is a calling. At the heart of this brotherhood is the desire to connect, find community and a place to belong. And every single connection made, makes the world a little better because as Mark Twain put it “travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindness. Charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in on a little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime” “

Leon Logothetis – the Kindness Diaries
https://leonlogothetis.com/

Television is really not my thing. Give me books, books, books and yes please, even more books! Every now and then however, when I need to take a break from reading, writing or studying, I flick through channels and Netflix categories looking for something worthy of my time.

I don’t mean this in a proud, derogatory way, please do not misunderstand. What I am trying to say is that I channel my focus and time into whatever feels productive, not wanting to miss a moment, not wanting to waste an opportunity. So if I am going to watch something, it needs to be good, impactful, powerful. It needs to leave me with something to ponder, reflect on and from which I can grow.

https://leonlogothetis.com/

The Kindness Diaries is such a program. I watched series 1 a few months ago. I was so impressed by it that I set everything aside to watch almost the entire series back to back. As Leon set off on his trusted canary yellow motorbike (with side car) from Hollywood, L.A, I journeyed with him. Together, we crossed through the United States of America, Europe, India, Cambodia, Vietnam, Canada and back to Hollywood.

https://leonlogothetis.com/

Relying entirely on the kindness of strangers to feed him, put petrol in Kindness One, and give him a bed or sofa for the night, Leon was gifted an inside view to the lives of the strangers who offered kindness. Each one with their story to tell. Their own journey of hope and reason for offering kindness to a stranger. I laughed. I cried. I paused episodes and contemplated in silence. Each episode – each story left a mark on my heart and filled it with fresh motivation, inspiration and hope.

But there is something more. Leon does not only receive kindness. He also gives it. Every now and then, when he meets someone who has profoundly touched his heart, who has given out of their lack, Leon gives them a gift. It may be a home to get them off the streets, funding a charity, a dream holiday, and much more.

https://leonlogothetis.com/

In series 2, Leon embarks on another journey, this time with a canary yellow VW beetle with no modifications, heating or power steering. Kindness 2 takes him through Canada, Alaska, America, Mexico, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, Peru, eventually ending in Argentina.

https://leonlogothetis.com/

Listening to their stories, Leon connects. Sometimes, like in the case of Rena who rescues stray dogs in Colombia, the story is a bit too close to home. Moved to tears, Leon shares with Rena that his own dog Winston was the one who taught him about love. Winnie loved him unconditionally and marked Leon’s life profoundly.

Winnie with Leon. https://leonlogothetis.com/

Rena shares the story of her and her siblings’ abandonment by their mother and how they were treated like dogs by their father. It caused her to commit her life to rescuing and re homing stray dogs. Rena and Leon shared a common thread, a deep connection, visible in their interaction, Rena, an elderly lady who hugs him like a wise, loving grandmother and prays a blessing in his life. Leon in turn, shares with her the real reason for his travels. To find kind, selfless strangers who are in need of his help. And help he does, by funding the rescue and rehabilitation of 100 stray dogs for Rena. Her joy is magnetic.

Rena who rescues the stray dogs of her region in Colombia. https://leonlogothetis.com/

“We are all travelers in one sense or another but what matters between life and death is our journey. But while we are here, there is an opportunity for us to connect in ways great and small, to experience the richness of cultures not our own, and thereby, enriching our own journeys as we travel this road on this ultimate adventure we call life”

Leon Logothetis.
https://leonlogothetis.com/

Each episode in series 2 is connected to a particular theme, each is a gift. We see the gift of faith, community, purpose, home, food, shelter, hope, Winnie love, connection, knowledge, travel, friendship and of course kindness.

” As humans we don’t control the circumstances of our birth, but our lives can be changed by the decisions we make. Some people spend their lives taking while others spend their lives giving. And while each can leave their mark on history, ask yourself for your own life and for the legacy you will leave behind what story are you trying to tell?”

Leon Logothetis

We also learn of atrocities and meet people who are battling insane red tape regulations to reunite with families across oceans. This series is not a travel documentary. It is so much more.

When Leon asks two paramedics why they are travelling around the world, their reply is simple yet heartrending. “So that we don’t have any regrets’. They explain that because of their job they experienced conversations with the dying. On many occasions they were told their regret was not seeing more of the world and not having a family.

https://leonlogothetis.com/

A deported Mexican father, is staying on the border in a shack, planning his third swimming attempt to cross to the USA and be reunited with his wife and child. Each time, he is caught by the coast guard and sent back. Many drown, he has survived twice and is not stopping until he arrives or dies. Sobering.

When Leon travels through postcard perfect images, breathtaking views and surreal adventures, we are faced with stark reminders of the darkness within us when kindness or love is absent. He visits a plantation outside Lima, a stunning property fit for a holiday brochure. Yet underneath, in the basement, its dark narrow terrifying maze of catacombs tells of a slave trade 400 years ago and the shocking truth of how they lived here. Above ground, beauty, joy, fresh air. Below, desperation, stench, death.

But then he enters Urumbamba and surprises an old friend named Duska. Duska, a missionary who has devoted her life to caring for the orphans of her community, met Leon when he volunteered at the orphanage in his late teens. Duska was one of the first people in Leon’s life who showed him what kindness is. Before leaving, he pays for the orphanage and school to be extended.

” The construction of a person is similar to the construction of a building. Each begins with a clean slate on a foundation built by others and sometimes the external facade can hide an ugly truth or fail to show true worth. Eventually, people and buildings are left on their own to brace the elements of the world, but how well each holds up to those forces is always determined by the care taken when the foundation was laid. “

Leon Logothetis

In Costa Rica he meets Father Sergio who runs Espirito de Santo, a mission to feed his community’s poor and destitute of all ages. Leon gives him a gift to help feed even more children before he remarks. “My gift made one day easier for the children in need, but I guess every day we are given is a gift and a chance for rebirth, redemption or reinvention”.

https://leonlogothetis.com/

There is much more to this series than I can do it justice in this blog. I would recommend you watch it for yourself, with your friends, with your children. Inspire the younger generation to look for opportunities to make a difference. If they dream of travelling, they can travel in a way that is not only kind to our planet, but kind to its inhabitants too. They can live out their adventures by making a difference to the world around them, by giving their own gift of hope.

” So, as my story comes to an end, another story, your story may be just beginning. And on this journey, I’ve been inspired by other people’s kindness, day in, day out. It’s changed me. Because truly the greatest gift that we have to give another human being, is ourselves. You are the final gift. Because how you show up in the world, it matters. It matters profoundly. We all have the power to change the world. Because to change the world, all you need to do, is change one life. And the most beautiful, the most profound way to change one life simply, is to be kind. So my challenge is simple. the final gift of the kindness diaries is for you to go out into the world and give of yourself, be kind, share love and have as much fun along the way as you can”

Leon Logothetis

Hopelessly in love with Hope

Watching my 7 year old daughter walking with her best friend towards the Packhorse bridge confirms in my heart that we are where we are meant to be…

Four months have passed since we moved to Caergwrle, a picturesque village in north east Wales that sits nestled under the protection and beauty of Hope mountain.

Not a day has dawned when my heart hasn’t overflowed with joy and gratitude at this gift.

Traveling through the pages of my life, I count roughly 26 house moves in my 44 years. That does not include foster care placements in Cyprus, long summers visiting maternal grandparents in Spain, the time leading up to my third birthday when my mum and I accompanied my father on his merchant navy vessel, or the in-between houses that hosted me and my family over the years.

I spend a lot of valuable time (when I should probably be more productive) reflecting.

Evaluating, re-evaluating. Small, seemingly unimportant moments, events, words, can speak volumes to my heart, visiting places of past pain and healing, mistakes, failures, lessons and restoration.

I want to grasp it all, not lose a second, not miss a memory, not forget, not to be passe, ungrateful, apathetic. I want to live it all, appreciate, soak…

The photographs I chose for this post speak of this inner need to connect with the simple pleasures and unrepeatable joys. The quality of the photos is certainly not professional and the camera on my phone is old and decrepit but still, they capture what my heart wants to shout out. Joy, joy, joy. Hope, hope, hope.

Two sweet little girls, my daughter and her best friend playing pooh sticks on the bridge. Joy.

There was a time in my childhood when I lived on my paternal grandparents’ farm in a small village outside Nicosia in Cyprus.

It was a difficult time, my grandparents were grieving the loss of their only child (my father), coming to terms with the shock of my mother’s suicide, trying to manage the bureaucracy that comes with death, finances, debts that would one day take our farm & home away from us. They battled chronic and severe illness, isolation, lack of basic facilities like running water or electricity. In the chaos of those years, they tried to provide for me. Their love was unfaltering, unconditional but in a practical way I was neglected.

Still, while trying to make sense of my own pain, while adapting to my new identity as the village orphan (pentarfano), I took refuge and experienced joy in the simple momentary things, which most of us miss in the fury of our busy days.

Photo by Carl Attard from Pexels.

My pet dogs, the metal swing that allowed me to throw my head back letting my hair brush the dirt on the ground, the golden wheat swaying in the welcome breeze and where I lay hidden for endless hours, the hot sun on my face. The fig tree I hang from staring into the water reservoir that watered the farm’s orange, olive, almond and fig trees. The imaginary monsters underneath the filthy water.

Sitting by the fire listening to my grandmother recite stories of surviving Turkish persecution from her home in Constantinople (now Istanbul).

The fragrance of wild thyme in the fields, evening jasmine and Cypriot roses. Unforgettable. Unmistakable. Precious. Joy. Hope.

Joy abundant and overflowing.

Though my life has been filled with its share of challenges, it has also been filled with victories, successes, overcoming.

Hope. It taught me lessons one cannot learn in school not even with the best teachers. Life has been my teacher. Life is everyone’s teacher. Each and every one of us have a story filled with challenges and victories, failures and successes, mistakes and achievements, hurt and forgiveness, pain and healing.

We all have a story. Mine is no sadder than another. It just is what it is. What matters is what I can draw from it. What I drink from this well of fresh water. What I glean from the threshing. What remains inside me that makes me a person who can appreciate more, complain less. A person who can make a difference to others. A mum who recognises that while trying to be the perfect super mum, what truly matters is that I give my children unconditional love, safety, security, presence, memories, joy, hope.

We have no control of our circumstances and we all get our fair share of the good, the bad and the ugly. Some people get more than their fair share. It can be utterly heartbreaking.

And yet, I often read of so many amazing transformational changes that come from adversity.

The mother whose son was stabbed to death now runs a charity visiting prisons and speaking to inmates about forgiveness and restoration. Not only is she preventing further crime, but those men and women are leaving prison transformed and determine to live with purpose.

Charities that provide medical help, surgery, equipment and palliative care, birthed after a child lost its life to terminal illness.

Organ donations that give life after the tragedy of an unexpected death.

Refugees who have found stability in their new home now helping other refugees, ex homeless, ex addicts, ex violent fathers bringing about transformation due to a change in their heats and a need to give back and bring hope.

Hope. Our tests become the testimonies which give hope to the hopeless and propel the hurting and broken to keep walking one step at a time towards their victories and testimonies.

Spot the ducks
Family…

Hope is what keeps us fighting, battling, swimming. When everything else is gone, we cling on to hope.

“I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death.”

Robert Fulghum

Forty four years on, I live in a village I didn’t know existed even though I lived 30 minutes away for the last 18 years. It is a fitting place to be in at this season of my life. It is a place that speaks loudly to my heart and soul. It represents all that has taken place over the last 44 years and the direction in which I have traveled, that of HOPE.

Friendships that last through the ages and seasons of life.

Nature and animals were the undoubted keys that kept me clinging on to hope throughout my childhood and held me in survival mode. All through my adult years with every house move I asked God for a tree or water. It gave me hope.

“Please, just a tree to look at, some water, and I can keep pushing, I can keep swimming.”

And He did. With each move there seemed to always be a tree outside my window.

Even when we lived in dire lodgings that belonged to an employer of a take-away shop we worked for. Even then, I looked out of the window of the hopeless miserable flat and spotted a tree. I beheld that tree every day while traversing yet another miscarriage, another loss, another day stuck in a place I hated, with no way out. The tree gave me hope. It happened at every house move. I had found something to help me, to lift my spirits, to being me joy, to keep me hoping.

Imagine the excitement, joy and gratitude I felt with this move when not only did I get a tree, but I got a whole mountain! And not just any mountain, Hope Mountain. wow. Really? Yes really.

But it didn’t stop there. the gifts came abundant. Not only a mountain of trees but a river too. Water AND trees. Double portion. Whoa. Grateful.

Alyn river

It isn’t wasted on me. I don’t take it for granted. I remind my children of the countless children growing up caged in high rise blocks, in flats with no greenery of fresh air, in city pollution. I tell them to practice gratitude for this gift for however long it lasts although I hope it lasts forever.

I am not complacent and as I walk through the village each day I can’t take the beaming smile off my face. All my senses come alive and my heart feels like bursting. I think I can cope with anything living in Hope.

Of course, nothing is guaranteed for ever. It doesn’t need to be. The gift of hope is right now, right here is what I need in order to keep moving forwards, living, hoping, giving.

It is a time of respite, reflection, orientation as my family and I walk into the new. New things are awaiting us all. Exciting, nerve racking, change is scary but not when you have hope.

With hope you can face anything, even your wildest fears because you know that on the top of that mountain awaits you the most spectacular view. The most wonderful picture. The most precious gift. Freedom from the fear that kept you climbing it. And everlasting hope.

Play…

“We must accept finite disappointment but never lose infinite hope”

Martin Luther King
Laughter.

“Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.”

Helen Keller

“Hope is the thing with feathers

that perches the soul

and sings the tune without the words

and never stops at all”

Emily Dickinson

H.O.P.E

Hold

On

Pain

Ends

” They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: Someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.”

Tom Bodett

“When the world says “give up” hope whispers, “try it one more time”

Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels.

Caergwrle. New beginnings living in Hope…

If you told me in 2001, when I moved to the U.K with my Cypriot husband, that one day I would be living in a small Welsh village with a name I can’t pronounce, I wouldn’t have believed it.

And yet, here I am, 18 years later, living in Caergwrle.

There are two sights that warm my heart in a way that nothing else does. The ocean and mountains. Living on the Wirral peninsula for the last 18 years was hugely comforting to me because it meant being near the sea thousands of miles away from my beloved Mediterranean ocean yet somewhat comforting that I was nonetheless near the sea.

But 11 months ago, we found ourselves homeless and living on a friend’s alpaca farm in North Wales. Only us!

This meant living within sight of Moel Famau mountain with views to the valleys and the Welsh sheep grazing below. Wow. I didn’t realise then but it was to begin my new love affair with Wales and to condition me away from my beloved Wirral, preparing me to embrace a new season our lives were about to enter.

Moel Famau view from the moor behind the alpaca farm

My children now aged 16, 11 and 7 didn’t want to leave Wirral.

“We’ll be too far from our friends!” they lamented even though we were just 30 minutes drive away. But to a child it may as well be hours away. The mere frustration of not being able to pop round to their friends, was enough to make them feel we were moving to the other side of the world.

My husband was working as a waiter at a Greek taverna in Birkenhead, Wirral, from 4pm until late and did some self employed coffee barista training work in between. While on the farm and sharing the one car, it meant I had to organise our daily home educating schedules and outings to be back by 3 so that husband could have the car. Then of course we had an old car that guzzled petrol and the long drives were damaging to the bank account.

Living in someone else’s home comes with its own challenges and I learned that smallholding wasn’t my thing despite how much I adore the alpacas, especially little Nugget, the cutest thing I have ever seen. I have highly sensitive hearing so the crowing rooster at the crack of dawn and all through the day, coupled with the quacking ducks was challenging to my (selfish) need for quiet.

The four beauties on the farm. Jasper, Sol, Ozzie and little Nugget at the front.
My 11 year-old son taking Nugget for a walk

The months were rolling by and we couldn’t find a home within our budget. Until one day, a friend asked if we would be interested in her parents’ house as they were moving into a bungalow and would be renting their home. The catch was that the house was in North Wales.

We jumped at the chance though and visited the house as soon as we could. Being the end of Autumn when trees were bare, brown sticks dangling off faded tree trunks and the village looking a bit sad and grey, we didn’t fail to notice that it was also nestled under a mountain which sprawled behind the house, rising high as if thousands of tree soldiers were standing guard over it. I was immediately drawn.

When the owner told me the mountain was called Hope, I knew this was the house for us. I instantly remembered months before, driving to an appointment and passing a road sign pointing to Hope. “I’d love to live in a place called Hope” I thought to myself.

Fate. Meant to be. God’s will…

It led me to an online search to find what Caergwrle means.

Fortress. Wow. A fortress at the foot of Hope mountain. It is meant to be, this is our home. But the children?

The house, last but one at the top of the hill, meant no passing traffic, safety for the children, quiet for me, and with spectacular views. Wonderful.

Our street. Our house is at the top on the right.

We entered in. 4 bedrooms. One for each of the children at last. They had never been able to have their own bedrooms. For them, that was the clincher that overlooked the 30 minutes drive to their friends.

For me the confirmation that this was our home came in a different form. While looking around and eagerly announcing we wanted to rent this house, the owner casually mentioned that he was planning to get rid of a desk that they didn’t need. “You don’t happen to have any use for it?”

I glanced at this ‘desk’ and was instantly moved to tears. The most magnificent old fashioned writing desk stood before me. What the owner didn’t know was that, firstly, I love to write, secondly I had never owned my own desk and thirdly, I had always wanted my own vintage writing desk JUST LIKE THAT ONE.

My writing desk, a gift from the owners of the house, a sign that this was indeed the home for us.

Done deal. But was it?

We agreed to rent this house. Weeks turned to months and frustrations grew as solicitors and red tape kept us longingly dreaming of our new home yet increasingly looking like it was not going to happen.

But just then, at the last minute, in the last week of the deadlines for things to fall into place, just as I was begrudgingly about to apply for another house – in the Wirral – I received that desperately awaited for message.

“The house is yours, we are moving out on Friday, you can move in at the weekend”

Delight doesn’t express how we felt. Within days we were in. It was end of March and by then, Caergwrle was wearing its new season clothes.

Trees covered in fresh caterpillar green foliage, longer days, blue skies with amazing candy-floss cloud formations.

When I open my windows in the morning, I hear birds singing and my lungs draw in the fresh misty dew. I take every opportunity to drink my coffee outside and look at the mountain.

Sitting among the weeds, gazing at my mountain of Hope.

I stand at my bedroom window admiring the castle ruins, imagining life as it would have been hundreds of years ago, the sounds of the blacksmith hammering the iron, the smell in the air from burning wood or coal and all that castle life entails.

Our dog Poppy, adores her walks up to the castle, or Hope mountain and all the others in between.

Castle ruins

My little girl enjoys the local playgrounds, three within walking distance from the house. My middle child, confidently rides his scooter to the local skate park, stopping at the corner shop to buy sweets and chat to the friendly ladies behind the till.

Playground and dog exercise field on the A550, opposite Hope school.
Hope School, on the A550 opposite the park and playground.
The main Mold road, running through the centre of Caergwrle.

On the same row of shops, you’ll find a vet, beautician, optician, carpet shop, sandwich shop, grocer, fish and chips, Chinese take away and more I haven’t discovered yet. The shops are small, with friendly owners and staff smiling as you pass by.

My favourite walk is to Honey’s cafe, a gem I discovered quite by chance on my return from Hope GP practice. Just before the train station, right next to the river, is this little cafe with homemade cakes, scones, food and beverages.

The afternoon tea overlooking the river is a treat to delight in. One day I went with the children and had forgotten they have a limit of £12 in order to use a credit card. I asked the lady if she would like me to leave my kids there while I run to the local shop to get cash out to pay my £5 bill.

“Don’t worry about it, pay me next time” she replied clearly not knowing if I would ever return having never seen me there before!

Afternoon tea at Honey’s cafe

We have been in our new home for a few weeks. Boxes are still stacked hidden behind the sofa. The garden needs weeding. We are not the most green fingered people. We need to buy recycling bins to separate the rubbish.

I make coffee. My favourite Mexican blend that my husband brings home freshly ground from his new job, a coffee roastery and supplier.

Propped up on the stone steps in my garden – we need garden furniture too- I reflect and one by one I count my blessings.

I could look at the last year with ingratitude and pain at the stress of nine months of homelessness, uncertainty, doubts, the feelings of failing our family, the extreme testing of our marriage and subsequent crisis.

View from the bridge on the A550, just before the railway bridge by Caergwrle train station

Or, I could look at this last year as the path that led to our new home and new season in life. In these last months, we have known generosity like never before. What person offers you her home for your family of five while she lives in her caravan so as to accommodate you? What kind of friend sees your need and puts herself out of her own home in order to fill your need not once complaining, not pressurising, not making you feel awkward?

I have known that kind of friend. My family and I have been privileged to know a friend that loves us and cares for us as if we were her own family. I have known the meaning of true unconditional love and friendship. The laying down of one’s life for her friends. Priceless.

The smaller things? Those too.

We were able to buy a newer more comfortable and more economical car. Wow!

My husband got a new job as sales and training manager for an amazing small coffee roastery and it comes with a work car! No more car sharing and he does what he loves. Boom.

We are in a home we love, we have peace. We are safe and happy. Invaluable.

Our home is the one on the left with the brown walls and windows, nestled at the foot of Hope mountain

The railway station minutes form our home takes the boys all the way to Wirral direct so even if I can’t take them, they can go see their friends. Joy.

I can sit in my bed and look at the mountain outside of my window while I write, listening to bird song. A dream.

My daughter has made a new friend and she is the best friend she has ever had. They have become so close they are like sisters. I know these friendships. They are those that last the ages, these two will grow old together, tell stories, reminisce of the endless hours they spent in each other’s homes playing. Bliss. Double bonus, her mum has become a treasured friend to me too. Amazing.

I keep on listing, each blessing, each thing I am grateful for, my heart swelling with content pleasure.

But I am also reminded that none of it would have happened, if I were not willing to step out of the old and into the uncertain new. Change can be a frightening prospect. The what if’s can be debilitating so we stay where we know and feel safe. But we miss the new. We miss all the what if’s and more. We miss the learning and growth that comes in the dark moments.

Photo by rawpixel.com from Pexels

The testing of my marriage taught me perseverance, forced me to examine myself, my heart, my faults and unrealistic expectations. It taught him that I am strong but fragile at the same time. The crisis took us to places we hadn’t explored before and showed us how much we mean to each other. How we are willing to sacrifice for each other. And that we needed boundaries as much as needed to let go of things that were holding us back.

It took nine months to move into our new home. It takes nine months for a new life to form inside a woman. The end of the pregnancy, uncomfortable, irritating, exhausting, desperate to just get that baby out.

Then the birth, excruciating before the drunken joy of delivery, relief, exaltation, deliriously ecstatic.

Change can be like pregnancy and childbirth. Change brings it all, tests you on all counts and brings out the best and the worse in you. But change brings also transformation.

The last nine months was not a bed of roses but then again a caterpillar does not become a butterfly unless it goes through the pain of transformation into the new.

photo credit – Pexels

About Caergwrle.

Caergwrle is in the county of Flintshire, North Wales. Most famous for it’s castle ruin and stunning country walks. There is plenty to do around Flintshire, from beaches, country parks, castles, manor homes and estates, leisure centres, shopping and even an indoor ice skating rink in Deeside. For more information and to build your itinerary visit the following sites.

https://www.flintshire.gov.uk/en/LeisureAndTourism/Tourism/Home.aspx

http://www.flintshire.org/

https://www.google.com/maps/place/Caergwrle,+Wrexham/@53.1100473,-3.0507153,14z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x487ac434ad3f70e5:0x29430f6ecca3b3!8m2!3d53.110854!4d-3.042487

http://www.parkinthepast.org.uk to learn about an amazing Roman themed park being built on an old quarry.

Photo credit Mihalis Constantinou – except for the photos of Honey’s cafe & where stated otherwise.