‘Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should…’
Have you heard this before?

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found myself uttering this statement to myself more than a few times; however — WOW — just recently I’ve been in the weeds with all that it reveals about my people-pleasing, ‘just want to be helpful’/looking-for-external-validation scars.

This year, I’ve made genuine moves into the research and creative process for my first book. I’ve dug into the interviews I did with women who generously shared the stories around when life took an unexpected turn, and my notebook is filling with thoughts, ideas to explore, and questions to research.

Not only that, but having it as a new purpose has helped me finalise my previous dancing-class spaces, and I now have quite the writing loft to retreat into.

For all of those forward moves, though, I’ve been noticing something about myself that keeps rearing its ugly head.
How quickly I seem to move toward the things I can do rather than things that are new or unknown… particularly when the new things need me to be slower, when I feel less certain, or are harder to explain to friends and family in day-to-day conversation.

I don’t know if that’s just me…

When saying yes feels automatic

Back in February, I inadvertently ended up building a social media page for a lovely lady I know who was running in our March state parliamentary elections. On top of building the page, there came the strategy for the 4–5 weeks of her campaign, and the next minute, there were jokes about me acting as her proxy campaign manager.

I say inadvertently because I don’t really know how it happened so quickly. One minute, there was a random text invitation to catch up at her home, and the next minute, we were communicating 4–5 times per day about edits, reviews, and next steps.

Out of nowhere, I had 15–20 hours in my week dedicated to social media strategy that I didn’t know I had spare — and of course, it came at the expense of my book and personal creative process.

To compound matters, as the election approached, with glowing praise about the success of the social media campaign, I received an invitation to meet with a local business to see if I could assist them with their socials strategy. It was even a paid job, I was told.

Within a few days, I was sitting with a legitimate working opportunity presenting itself, lovely people whose hearts and vision were aligned with similar values to mine, and the ball was in my court as to how I could help them.

This train was leaving the station very quickly, and I was still catching up with how I had even got aboard.

I came home from meeting the business owner and went straight into writing a proposal — I wasn’t going to let this take over my life completely, and I had clear ideas about how I was going to keep it contained while still honouring my book, as well as of course Isla’s homeschooling and the importance of our family life altogether.

(Easy, right?!)

Meeting the business owner had been lovely, and I felt like we really connected with similar views of strategy and opportunities to improve their online footprint in ways that felt easily within my wheelhouse.

In some ways, this was a dream opportunity for work that I could do comfortably, that fitted into my life at my flexibility and discretion, and a handy income stream that would help my family.

Why is it so hard to say no?

I wrote that proposal in the first 24 hours after our meeting, but nearly 3 weeks later, I still hadn’t sent it in.

The self-sabotage story felt very real, because it was on both sides of the blade I seemed to be injuring myself with.

Was I sabotaging myself by not sending in the proposal, even though I knew there was a real need and I could definitely help?

Or was I sabotaging myself because my book notes would have to be put aside for another month or two, after which I would definitely get back to it (or so I was telling myself).

Ohhh, this has been really challenging for me.

I’ve been playing with a simple idea that when something comes up — a decision, an opportunity, even just a moment of resistance — I picture a leaf floating along on a stream.

Not forcing where it goes. Not trying to control the path. Just noticing what’s already there, and asking myself what it might look like to move with that, rather than immediately stepping in with where I ‘think’ it should go.

And, let me tell you, this whole situation did NOT feel like a floating leaf.

It felt like I had done that thing I always do. There was someone with a need, I had skills to help, and then I just kept going because the ball was rolling down the hill and I couldn’t stop it.

I’ll be honest with you. I am really uncomfortable letting myself be in my creative book-writing space this year. Planning and prioritising time to just sit, listen, think, and imagine runs so hard against my training as an engineer, and more than 14 years in a production environment all about efficiency, waste, and optimisation.

I know I have a really valuable topic to explore, and I know the raw ingredients of the interviews I’ve had with so many fabulous women have the potential to be something really special for others to contemplate for themselves. Yet… slowing my life enough — and prioritising the process so it reveals itself — has been a real challenge with the distracting allure of praise, appreciation, short-term contribution, and money.

I felt like a guilty teenager when the business owner sent me a lovely text more than two weeks after we met to follow up my proposal… and then worse when she was also really gracious about the delay in my reply, appreciative of any help I could provide.

It took a lot for me to admit to myself that the reason I had been procrastinating with sending in the proposal was I simply didn’t want to do this work.

The pull of what you can do

And what I was also starting to see was that no one was going to stop that ball rolling down the hill but me.

Not the business owner (who was incredibly kind and gracious).
Not the opportunity itself.
Not even the fact that I thought I could do it well, and still try to squeeze some book-writing time around it.

If anything, all of that was gently pulling me in the opposite direction.

The only place that boundary was ever going to come from… was me.

‘Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should…’

Giving myself permission to live this statement has taken a lot of reflection, discussion, admission, and even guidance counselling from ChatGPT!

When a friend said to me, “do you actually want to write that book, or not?” it felt like a cold bucket of water snapping me back to reality.

It is really hard to say no.

It is really hard not to help someone when you know you can.

Walking away from money can be hard too.

And sitting with something that has no clear form yet — or may not even be any good when it is finished — feels like a very different kind of challenge altogether.

Especially when I can’t quite explain why it matters to me.

With all of my other hats on, there’s a part of me that still wants a clear, tangible reason I can point to… something that makes it make sense.

And I don’t really have that here.

Which makes it very easy to reach for the things that are useful, valuable to others, and familiar… particularly when something else in my life is a new path I haven’t walked before.

And how quickly that can pull me away from the very thing I say matters.

Oh, the challenges of running my own Matters Experiment!

If this feels familiar, I write about these kinds of moments in my weekly email. You’re welcome to join me there and see what your own Matters Experiment might look like. Scroll down for an opportunity to connect.

I’ve been working away in the afternoons and evenings, elbows deep in The Matters Experiment — shaping something that feels incredibly meaningful. But at the same time, in my personal life, I could feel burnout creeping in. Our little family was juggling too much. As the self-elected ‘Family Manager,’ I could see all the commitments piling up and the train wreck coming — fast.

The inner critic got louder. My fuse shortened. I found myself getting bothered by tiny things. And honestly? I had some moments where felt like a bit of a hypocrite. Here I was, building a mini-program to help others try their own Matters Experiment… and in my private life, I was feeling stretched too thin and frustrated.

But this time — something was different.

I noticed it. Or more specifically, I noticed I was noticing it.  

I caught myself in the spiral. I didn’t distract myself or react to it blindly.  I just stayed with what was happening. Present. Even though it didn’t feel great. And that presence — it felt new. It felt like something had shifted.

That’s when I realised: this work is working.

If you’ve been following along these past few months, you’ll know I’ve been running tiny experiments. Asking gentle questions like:

• What does it mean to have enough?
• What am I still chasing, even when I know I have enough?
• What happens when I let ease guide the way?

They’ve been little things. Private things. Nothing big or flashy. But they’ve started to rewire the way I meet the world — and myself.

So last week, when everything felt like too much, I didn’t hit overdrive like usual. I didn’t try to prove I could do it all. Instead, I paused. I brought the questions I was contemplating for you to my own life.

And guess what? They helped.

I had real conversations with my husband about all we had going on and what actually matters to us right now. We adjusted. We simplified. And the confidence and energy I felt afterward? It reminded me exactly why I’m doing this.

Because it matters. I matter. And you matter.

So… what’s happening here at The Matters Experiment?

A few months ago, I started this blog and an email list that is turning into a beautiful little community. A place where we explore what it means to centre our worth, value, and sense of mattering – not someday, but right now.

Many of you have reached out saying: “I love this… but how do I actually do my own Matters Experiment?”

I sat with that for a while. Because I didn’t want to create a big program or course. 

I just wanted something simple. Easy. Doable. Real.

Something you could try.
Just for a week.
Just for yourself.

Introducing: Live Like You Matter (Just for a Week!)

A one-week guided experiment that includes:

• 7 days of gentle prompts
• Short daily videos + email reflections
• One small action each day
• No tech hurdles, no logins – just you and me in your inbox!

This is the first thing I have ever offered like this – it is a simple space just for you to test what it feels like to live like you matter.  Not at the end of your to-do list, but right now.

It’s not a course. It’s not a challenge. It’s not another task to add to your plate. It’s an invitation to help you to listen to yourself a little more closely. To gently question the patterns that leave you feeling like you’re not quite there yet, or that there is something important you are missing somehow…

I don’t know the exact path you need to take to feel more valuable, enough, and like you matter. But I do know you are all of those things already.

And I’d love to help you start hearing that truth for yourself more clearly.

I spent years searching for someone to give me the answer. But what I found? The answers were already inside me — I just didn’t know how to hear them.  

If this week can help you feel more connected to yourself, more certain of your worth, more grounded in your value — then it’s already done its job.

This whole thing feels a little surreal. I’ve had to do so much of my own work to feel valuable, enough, and like I matter… just to be able to offer this out into the world. And yet, I know in my bones that what I’ve put inside this experience is something that can help you find those things for yourself too.  

Because it’s not about me telling you what to do — it’s about you discovering what already lives in you. The parts you’ve quieted. The parts you’ve ignored. The parts that are still waiting for you to believe they matter.

If that makes sense to you — if something in you feels ready — I truly believe this week will be powerful for you.

Not because it’s perfect. Not because you’ll get it “right.” But because you matter. And when you live like it, everything starts to shift.

I want to see you walking through the world as your biggest, brightest self — not hustling for worth, but steady in it. Content. Grounded. Happy. Real.

I want that for you. And I want it for me.

And I believe this week might just be the place to begin.

What would change if you lived like you mattered?

If that question resonates, and if you want someone to explore it with — I’m here. This is it. Live Like You Matter (Just for a Week!)

I’d love for you to give it a try. 

“Have you ever considered that you could achieve something without that voice in your head constantly pushing you?”

I can tell you exactly where I was sitting when those words were spoken… and exactly what happened in my head when I heard them.

I genuinely didn’t understand the question — it simply didn’t compute.

Doesn’t everyone push themselves to do that? Isn’t that what being at the “edge of your comfort zone” is all about?

I’ve achieved a lot in my life, and I’ve never not pushed myself — even as a little girl. That’s just how I did things. I overcame setbacks, solved my own problems, and worked my way around whatever was in front of me.

And I don’t think I’m alone here.

Those of us who show signs of talent, intelligence, or “potential” are often taught early on that if it’s not hard, it doesn’t count. If it came easily to us, imagine what we could do if we really applied ourselves?

Then, to encourage us, we’re often told how our efforts could have gone even further:

“Imagine if you had done it like that!”
“If you’d added this, it could have been even better.”
“Did you see what Janey did? That was fantastic!”

These comments are often shared with positive intent — but they can easily turn into internal stories of not being good enough, especially when we’re young. When this kind of expectation becomes part of our operating system, anything less starts to feel like something is wrong with us — like we’re weak, lazy, or somehow not up to scratch.

And it doesn’t stop with school or work.
That belief starts to shape everything.

Working hard.
Overcoming challenges.
Never giving up.
Getting back up when we’ve been knocked down.

These are good things… right?
And they’re hard.
Successful people do hard things all the time. Yes?

While I’ll probably always love setting and reaching goals, the real shift began when I started exploring how I wanted to achieve them. That became part of my personal Matters Experiment — asking those three internal questions:

Do I feel valuable?
Do I feel enough?
Do I feel like I matter?

And eventually, the bigger question followed:

Could I still achieve meaningful things while feeling those things — not just after the outcome, but during the process itself?

The short answer is yes.

And one of the compasses that’s helped guide me is Ease.

A dear friend once shared a Gaelic saying with me:

“Whit’s fer ye will nae gie by ye” — or What’s for you will not get by you.

Contemplating that phrase gave me so much faith and confidence to welcome ease into my life.
It helped me focus on what flows easily from me and to me, rather than chasing things I might not actually want — or that may not be right for me in this moment.

It’s helped me recognise that ease isn’t just the result of giving up.
It’s knowing when to stop pushing against what’s not meant for you.
It’s trusting yourself enough to choose differently — and believing your value isn’t measured by how exhausted you are.

As recently as this week, I’ve been choosing a slower, more deliberate path on a new project I care deeply about.

Not because I want it less… but because I want to enjoy myself while I’m creating it.
I want to feel like me — with myself and with the people around me — as I build this thing.

I’ve been using ease as a test.
If something flows easily, I go with it.
If I feel myself fighting an idea or pushing something uphill, that’s my signal to pause. To ask again. To check in.

And you know what?

It’s working.

I’m still getting things done.
But the voice in my head is much kinder company — and I think I am too.

This isn’t a dramatic life transformation.
It’s not perfect. But compared to how I used to approach goals or deadlines, this has been completely different.

And definitely better.

These kinds of experiments? You can start them any time.
No one even has to know.
From the outside, it might look the same — but on the inside?

It’s a whole different experience.
A better one.

If the idea of choosing ease — the kind that comes from feeling like you’re valuable, enough, and that you matter as you go about your day — feels like something you’re craving but don’t know how to begin…

I’ve created a tiny invitation for you.

A one-week experiment.
Nothing hard.
Nothing fancy.

Just seven days of choosing to live like you matter.
One small choice at a time.

I’ve been deep in the weeds with this kind of stuff for a long while now, and I am overflowing with ideas, stories, reflections, mistakes, and hidden gems that might just help you leap over holes I’ve already fallen into — so you don’t have to.

Let me help you.

If you’re done with pushing, proving, and everything feeling so hard, try answering this question:

What would change if you stopped proving your worth — and simply started living like it was already true?

P.S. I’ll be opening up this next Matters Experiment in just a few days. If you’re curious, stay close — and sign up to The Matters Experiment email community below to be the first to know when it’s live!

It truly has softened something in me, helping me grow in confidence as I navigate the challenges and uncertainty of the wider world around me. It’s given me something tangible to do that pulls me off the conveyor belt of autopilot life, which often moves at a frantic pace.

That said, it has also left me with a bigger question — one that feels like it needs a little more courage to face:

If I have enough… why don’t I always live like I matter?

To start with… what does living like I matter even mean?

For me, The Matters Experiment has become an exploration of all the moments I’ve felt like I wasn’t valuable, wasn’t enough, or didn’t matter.

At first, I thought this happened when other people made me feel that way. But over time, I realised that feeling like I don’t matter often comes from me – in those moments when I accept things that aren’t okay for me, cross personal boundaries to people-please, or ignore what my body and mind are trying to tell me.

So, living like I matter means shifting my opinions, choices, and decisions to align with what I truly value, what is important to me, and what I need and desire in my life.

It means putting those things at the centre — and letting my internal voice (my intuition, gut feeling, body’s signals, and deeper thoughts) count.
Not just when it’s convenient. Not just when it fits into someone else’s expectations.

For someone as goal-oriented and achievement-focused as me, that hasn’t been a switch I could just flick.
This has been tricky work — to define, and then to implement.

But let’s be clear:
Living like you matter doesn’t mean you stop being ambitious.
It doesn’t mean you’re selfish, self-indulgent, or irresponsible.

It simply means you’re in control of living your life — not the version that feels like it belongs to someone else.

You’re living like you matter when you find your real boundaries and begin honouring them.  Like…

• Saying no to something that isn’t right for you, without explaining or justifying it
  
• Realising being a grown-up doesn’t mean always making sure everyone else is happy while ignoring your own needs
• Doing something you enjoy before all your jobs are done
  (Here’s a hint: they’ll never all be done.)
• Speaking up when you have something valuable to say — even if it’s uncomfortable — instead of staying quiet to keep the peace.

It shows up in small, everyday places all the time.

Each of these tiny moments lays the foundation for how much we value ourselves — and how aligned we are with our own lives.

Of course, it’s not always clean or comfortable.

We’ve spent our whole lives being taught where we fit and how to earn our place.

We’ve been taught to:

• Be helpful or conform before being honest
  
• Achieve and impress, often at the expense of our well-being
  
• Put others first, always
  

Living like you matter is a gentle disruption to these old stories.
It’s not just a mindset shift — it’s a daily practice.

If you’re wondering where to begin your own Matters Experiment, maybe it’s with this question:

If I lived like I mattered today, what would I choose?

Not forever.
Not in every area of your life.
Just today.
Just once.

Maybe your version is a no.
Maybe it’s not doing something.
Maybe it’s asking for something you need, or letting go of something you don’t.

The place to start is different for each of us.
But it’s something we can all do — starting anytime.

Over the coming weeks, I’ll share more about what I’ve noticed and experienced as I explore what it really means to live like you matter—and invite you to a few small, thoughtful experiments if you’d like to explore it with me.

For now, just start with the question:

Right now — what would change if you lived like you mattered?

The other day, I wrote in my journal:
“I’m afraid that the whole world is stuffed, and I’m the only one who knows it.”

Dramatic, I know.
… But maybe you’ve felt it too?

There’s just… so much.
Cost of living pressures. Global politics. AI, climate change, and extreme weather. Even parenting in the age of smartphones and social media…

It feels harder and harder to know what’s real, what matters, and what we can trust. The 24-hour news cycle alone can be overwhelming — even for those of us who usually like to stay informed.

But here’s the thing I come back to: I know I’m not the only one feeling this.

So many of us are noticing the quiet erosion of basic things — like kindness, respect, compassion, and hope. And while there’s fear and confusion, there are also moments of joy and contentment still within reach. Just on the edges.

And that’s where I find myself stuck. 

I’m a doer… and I hate not knowing what to do about all of this.

Should I be doing something?
Can I even do anything?

It’s frightening to feel powerless…

Then, last week, I came across this story in The Psychology of Money by Morgan Housel:

“At a party given by a billionaire on Shelter Island, Kurt Vonnegut informs his pal, Joseph Heller, that their host, a hedge fund manager, had made more money in a single day than Heller had earned from his wildly popular novel Catch-22 over its whole history.  

Heller responds, “Yes, but I have something he will never have…. enough.” 

Read that again…  

Enough.

When I sat with this for a while, I realised I have it too.
I have enough.

When I look at the world, I see what Heller saw. Examples of people in power — relentlessly chasing more. More influence. More profit. More space. More time. But to what end?

That’s not me.
That’s not the path I want.

I’m learning to be more like Heller.

More than ever, I’m learning to notice the tiny, perfect moments in my day — the ones that quietly whisper, this is enough.

I’ve even started shifting my “To Do” list to a “Get To Do” list. I give myself 3 or 4 meaningful things to focus on, rather than 13 impossible tasks that leave me feeling like I’ve failed.

And at night, when I look back on what I’ve done, I can feel it.
A sense of peace. Of enough-ness.  This is enough.  

This isn’t just about gratitude journals and affirmations for me anymore — though they did help me to get here.  It is what The Matters Experiment is teaching me — that this practice, this presence, this perspective… it matters.

I am enough.
It is enough.
I have enough.

And you know what I’ve realised? 

THAT is the antidote to everything else.

Because when we know what’s enough for us, we stop chasing what doesn’t matter. We stop being pulled by pressure and FOMO. We become quietly defiant in a world obsessed with more.

That’s what we DO.

The more committed we are to what’s enough for us — truly enough — the less power those chasing “never enough” have over us.

This is our quiet defiance.

So, here’s what I’m DO-ing to get past the fear that I’ve been feeling. It’s my birthday this month, and I’ve decided to celebrate by consciously recognising and sharing what enough looks like for me, every day.

If you follow me on Instagram or LinkedIn, you’ll start to see what I mean.  Little moments. Tiny shifts. You won’t believe how small something can be that gives me the feeling of enough!

If you want to join in, I’d love that. You don’t need to post anything big or polished. Just start noticing. Maybe share a photo or a story if you feel like it. Tag me at @justlisalb or use the hashtag #IHaveEnough if you want to — or don’t. You can be part of it quietly too.

I think the more of us that live this way, the more we change the tone of what’s “normal.”  And that feels like it matters.

PS:  More than this month also, if you are on board with the idea of genuinely changing what is ‘normal’ in the world around you, make sure you sign up to The Matters Experiment email list at the bottom of this page.  Simply share your name and email for more little things you can DO to be living the life you really want to be living – right now.

Reference:
Housel, M. (2020).  The Psychology of Money: Timeless Lessons on Wealth, Greed, and Happiness.  Harriman House Publishing. Pg 32.

You spend your time lost in troubles, trying hard to fix things for everyone around you. You see injustice, what is not fair, and how things could be different, and your huge heart compels you to do what you can to make things better.

You are always active, mind sharp and looking for solutions, and your capacity to do whatever it takes to change things amazes those around you. 

“Why do you care about this so much?” they ask.

“How can I not?” is your inner reply.  

But sometimes it is really tough being you inside the world that exists between your ears. 

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!” is the war cry on repeat in your head, voiced by that tiny girl curled up inside the wardrobe to hide from the chaos of everything that is happening around her. 

Yes, there are terrible – incomprehensible – things happening in the world. Yet, you experience the seeds of the same pain in the eyes of the man who yelled at you in rage when you accidentally pulled out in front of him in the library carpark or the way your teammate at work looked away when her voice was drowned out in the weekly team meeting, yet again. 

“I don’t know what to do!”

Each time you think it or say it out loud, your body responds with a tightness in your belly and invisible hands clasping around your throat.  You feel the adrenaline beginning to kick in, and the gyroscope of your mind start spinning almost immediately as you move into action to DO something about what you witnessed…. Always to help.

What if you did nothing, though?

I sense the waves of anger and indignation rise in you at those words – to help is to achieve something, to earn, to accomplish, to fulfil or acquire… to do nothing is to abandon, block, or sit back, you argue.    

…‘Be a part of the solution, not the problem,’ the voice in your mind echoes, a phrase that became a mantra and doctrine from your early days in the corporate world.  

Rather than immediately reacting outwards to take action externally, though, motivated to avoid the frightened child in pain and despair as she claws the wardrobe door closed, what if you just stopped for a moment?

What if you didn’t DO anything? 

What if you just let the moment happen, watched it occur, felt your reaction, and witnessed the thoughts and emotions you experienced when you saw it?  

And then, what if you waited for that knowing that you have always had inside?  

My dear, you do know.  You know you do.  

Beyond the blind reaction… the fear… the doubt… the outrage… the surprise… the worry… the fury… and the overwhelm is a deeply connected knowing that you have about what is right for you and the ways that you can support the people around you.  

You are wired at your core to be in motion and service, but let me remind you that all the answers and information you need to know what to do next are right here with you.

You are not that frightened little girl in the cupboard.

You are not the only hero in a cape responsible for saving the world.

All you have to DO is just get quiet, resist the urge to DO something immediately. and simply let the answer come to you.  

… You do know.

Well… I did it. 

After 20 months of conscious, consistent, daily preparation, I took a leap of faith that I had done enough and… it was enough.

It was the perfect blend of being invisible and being seen. I couldn’t have asked for more.

Invisible, because I fitted into a highly tuned team led by one of the keenest eyes in all of Highland Dance and received the feedback, “Lisa, to be plain, I haven’t even noticed you.”

Seen, because the enthusiasm and support of dancers more than half my age, as well as friends, colleagues and my family, was real and appreciative for what I had been able to do getting myself back into this team. “Lisa, you are amazing, what you have done here is so inspiring!” was praise that for a few moments I have allowed to wash over myself and receive.

It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but I can honestly say, when I was standing backstage before the first official show of the Belfast Tattoo in Northern Ireland on Friday 6th September, my legs were supple and free from pain, my mind clear of doubt and razor focused on the choreography and formations needed to uphold my place, and my heart was bursting with adrenaline and pride.

I had moments of flying across the arena feeling like my feet weren’t even touching the ground.  I thought moments like that were long in my past. I was wrong. 

This whole experience did nothing to dispel my childhood belief that I could do anything I put my mind to… the lesson here has been purely what putting my mind to something really means.

This would not have happened without Cheryl Roach holding the door ajar for me and forever sharing clear standards and expectations. She gave me something well defined to aim for which was essential when the path was rocky and the top of the mountain seemed impossible to reach.

My team – Angela, Liana, Maxine, and especially Andrew Gush – your support of my goals, provision of realistic feedback, and confidence in my potential at 45 gave me more hope than you will ever know.

And my loves… Adam and Isla. Having you there to see me was the highlight.

Paris

Another big adventure was started in our family last January, although this one was fairly innocuous at the time.

Isla pestered us to download Duolingo on her iPad so she could learn French. An initial 10 day streak was achieved easily, and at 30 consecutive days she negotiated successfully for a paid subscription so she had more flexibility and functionality using the app.

At 100 days in a row, Adam jokingly suggested to Isla that if she could do 500 days, we would take her to Paris. 

Well… if we were unclear whose daughter she was, in true Barker/Carpenter style (much to our increasing concern about her learning the lesson of ‘doing what you say you are going to do’ through our own actions) she quietly, determinedly, and persistently knocked away at Duolingo every day until she achieved her 500 day streak in early July this year.

And…. True to our word, she was a happy girl in Paris last week!

She ticked off her bucket list –

•  Seeing the Eiffel Tower
•  Walking the Paris streets eating a Baguette
•  Buying a Beret
•  Taking a photo of the Louvre
•  Imagining she was Ladybug  having an adventure with Cat Noir.

She has continued her streak and is now angling for a celebration at the 1000 day milestone… we are being very careful what we commit to this time! 

Versailles 

Next stop on the adventure is Versailles. Comments I share here may not be representative of the entire Barker-Carpenter clan, so I warn you in advance…

Versailles hit our list due to Isla’s homeschooling and our family viewing of the brilliant family TV show ‘Horrible Histories’.

It was an incredible place to visit.  The testosterone and ego energy of both King Louis XIV and Napoleon I was impossible to ignore – rooms and rooms of paintings of men fighting and dying on horseback (could have done with a warning for children?) or yet another angle of their fine selves looking powerful – and it seemed unusual to be appreciating the opulence of the Palais and gardens when the very site was looted in the rising of the French people in the Revolution…. 

It was something to see however, the gardens were wonderful and Isla enjoyed map reading and taking us to all the main attractions.

Marsailles

A fast train journey took us from Paris to Marseilles. We thoroughly enjoyed the Paris Metro and the 300km/hr TGV, definitely a comfortable and convenient way to travel!

Booking into our AirBnB was a success, even though our exchange of keys was done with almost no common language. Thank goodness for body language and hand signals. Isla’s continued Duolingo streak will serve us even more in the future.

Marseilles brought fresh sea bream to our experience.  Both at a resturant on the side of the old port, and then cooked by fabulous Adam at our apartment. The Marseilles food market was dreamy… oh, to be able to wander fresh markets for meals each day in our normal life!

We had a fun morning riding the ‘Brain’ (part Bus/part Train, according to Isla) around the Old Port and up to Basilica of Notre-Dame-of-la-Garde.

Wandering La Panier was a delight, kicking off my growing enjoyment of photographing alleyways. (I won’t bore you with my full range of photos here, however watch out for the opportunity to come to a slide night at home )

We also had a lovely time at Calanque de Sormiou where Isla swam until she was blue and Adam and I enjoyed people (and dog) watching. We were prepared for a 40 min hike down to the beach through the national park, however were pleasantly surprised to find we only had a single lane, cliff side drive with no safety rails. Thank goodness Adam was driving. 

Cotignac

Cotignac…. I’m in love. 

From the moment we drove into the village, the connection was like the opposite poles of a magnet pulling together.

What a beautiful place. I had some involuntary dreams of a future where I travel to Cotignac each year to work on my next book every morning, before wandering the streets or riding a bicycle around the local region for the rest of the day, eating berries, cheese and baguettes…. 

(Considering I haven’t written my first book yet, nor that the finances to manage that lifestyle are clear…. Small details. This is how dreams to goals to plans to achievements work. The seed is planted. )

Back to our trip …. This was the first place on our trip where it was clear we weren’t locals, nor that the locals could care any less about our tourist $$$.

We arrived with a car that was too big to drive in the local streets. Adam was incredible as he threaded the needle between buildings, one-way streets. people,  dogs and cats as we got our bearings and found our next AirBnB. I can say I absolutely could not have got our car in or out of some of the places we had to drive…. Thank goodness for a confident husband. 

All our meals were fresh ingredients eaten as we wandered, or cooked up in our own kitchen. We never did quite get into the rhythm of the locals, who were up late but not too late in the morning, shut shops and rested at lunch when we wanted to sit down to eat, and then opened late in the afternoon unless they decided to shut early.  Next time I come back I am determined to find the Cotignac groove….

We had some lovely walks around town and up Le Rocher. This little village was a delight – a definite highlight of our trip. 

The French Coast

The final part of our trip had us driving leisurely along the French Coast between Cannes, Nice, and Monaco.

Our short stop in Cannes had Isla with another foot splash in the Mediterranean before we wondered along the foreshore into the seaside centre. Our walk back to the car was done in a light drizzle of rain.

Adam and I lost the car for some time… Isla on the other hand was sure she knew where the car was, had the genius idea of using our baggage AirTag to track it, and was INFURIATED when we finally found the car because she had told us three times each time we walked past it! I don’t think she will ever let us forget it. 

We based ourselves in Old Nice and had a lovely apartment a short walk from the beach. Lots more exploring, wandering, eating, and watching.

One day we took a drive to Monaco and had quite the laugh driving around enjoying our glimpses into how the other half live. We drove into Montecarlo behind two black Range Rovers marked with Royal plates, drove on the Formula 1 track, Adam drooled over the high end motor cars cruising the streets, and we saw the harbour filled with super yachts. 

Nearly everyone was in beautiful suits, and there was a lovely woman in a green pants suit that was clearly high fashion, which also had echoes of Star Trek. 

At one point we were stopped by a policeman at a small roundabout as we were indicating to drive up a tree lined hill. “Non,” he said, “Non, you, down. You go down”.  While there were no signs or indications of a problem, we shrugged our shoulders and conformed, yet were confused when the Maserati behind us was waved up. The road turned out to be one to the Palace. Our hybrid Mitsubishi rental obviously didn’t cut it. 

We have had a wonderful trip and are now looking forward to be home with our animals and our own beds! What an adventure it has been.

After so much preparation, planning, and hard work for Belfast and the intent we set for our time away as a family, it has all been even more than we could have hoped.

I have a wonderful husband, a delight of a daughter, and it is wonderful doing life with them. Time to get home, reset, and to open to what is coming next.