So here you go my lovely readers. Now did that warm your heart or was it just a tad creepy? Like Gollum or something, ew. Well it was meant for the former, but if it felt like the latter, I’ll remove the my.

A restless heart, not one for routine, yet find it hard to leave a comfortable groove. 19 years, wanting to see the world and change it. Falling in and out of love often. Building up lasting relationships, rooting myself in this wacky, wonderful community to help me live out my many wild dreams. Bizarrely good memory for names, faces and places, but I forget what I went upstairs for. Occasionally swayed into almost saintly acts if it’ll please other people, but difficult to dissuade me when I do say no. Love people  about equally to my love for food, music and nature. Short, dark haired, dark eyed. 

Fairly phlegmatic, easygoing, unless you’re a Bono, people, music and food hater with a narrow, judgemental and prejudiced mind, in which case I’d have to kill you. Struggle to maintain arguments or intense seriousness without attempting to lighten the mood. Naive, more innocent than I’d like you to believe, intuitive, freedom obssessed. Commitment, structure and institution phobic. Love to laugh, dance, cry and sing, although the latter three I am no talent at. Oh and as you can already guess, I am honest to the point of utter transparency, some people would call that too honest, but if that’s me, that’s me, I guess. I can be bitchy, I am usually scatty, daft and try to keep most of these random elements on some kind of equilibrium. But then if life didn’t swing out of kilter, where would the fun be?  And here below are more aspects of marvellous me, a mixture of general things that some of you may nod your heads at, and very personal quirks that are as unique to me as my starshaped belly button, (yes I know other people will have a similar one but the nurses were amazed ok ?).

Ashdown Forest walks amongst the gorse and bracken in all weathers, eye opening discussions with my unusual parents and my fascinating grandmother, laughter filled chats with my talented sister.  Debates, arguments and endless conversations with every single one of my friends. The adrenalin as the plane leaves and hits the tarmac. The excitement of entering a new place, hearing a foreign language and different accents.

Filling up blank pages of a new notebook with an ink filled fountain pen or manically typing a Word Document, when inspiration never ceases. The satisfaction of my work being published, read and displayed, online or in a magazine. The fresh, warm feeling of a newly cleaned bedroom and a similar sensation but through my body instead after a healing bath, heavenly massage or refreshing shower. The thrill of listening to a new U2 song. The intense joy of seeing them live, screaming along with 70,000 others. Crying until the need ends and feeling cleansed for it. Talking to someone who listens without judgement.

Cuddling babies and smelling the tops of their soft, silky heads. Italian coffee, French croissants, a lovingly made meal. Pancakes for breakfast soaked in maple syrup, fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon. Mama’s wholesome, yummy veg soup and green salad for lunch. Tea and Sophie’s decadent cake. Dad’s salmon and all the accoutrements followed by Grandma’s melt in the mouth apple pie for supper.

Sunshine on my back, wind in my hair, dozing in a warm bed trying to catch the already half forgotten dream. The salty, cold, invigorating ocean surrounding and holding me. The smell of a spring morning, of new plants and new beginnings. The rich, decaying odour of  the autumn, after a long dry summer. Damp leaves underfoot and the first mud and puddles before they take over, not leaving a dry patch anywhere. The first snowfall, unusual icicles, heavy hoar frosts. An icy crescent moon, the big yellow harvest moon, meteor showers in November.

The meditative sensation of popping bubble wrap, crunching ice on a hot day, kicking that stray pebble along tarmac or kneading fresh dough. The overwhelming high of putting on a great show and receiving a standing ovation. Ringing and buzzing in my ears for days afterwards, unable to unwind or stop.  The crash of proper thunder, the beauty of true lightning in real electrical storms. Being lavish and having cocktails in decadent settings like Monte Carlo and Waikiki, pretending to be one of the  Glitterati, while surrounded by the real thing. A good meal out at a posh restaurant in London followed by a fabulous West End Show.

The sensation of new, good quality clothes and the feel of favourite well worn pieces. The toxic smell of a magazine straight from the printing press or a newly painted wall. Camping in the fields, with a good log fire, songs, stories and laughter around it. Waking damp, yet glad to have done it, at the dawn chorus. Driving across the acres in a Land Rover, not having to be mindful of speed limits or pedestrians. The wild, intoxicating freedom combined with fear of driving out that first time. Spending a truly large amount of money on myself without guilt or obligation to anybody else. The feeling of a thick wedge of cash, concert ticket, a bank card or driving license in hand, indicating my independence forevermore.

The bliss of kissing, caressing and loving a loved one, and receiving the same. Soft words, gentle conversation, and ardent passion combined. The kick of the chase, and being the prey, flirting, tension, heady excitement and dizzyness of a new chemistry. Having the confidence in high levels and the ability to be myself, loved whatever I say or do.

The adorable vulnerability of a new puppy or kitten, a laughing baby or a precocious toddler, the beauty of seeing a rare, wild animal in its natural home. The contentment after creating an appreciated meal, admired painting, or blossoming garden. 

Dancing in a silk dress, running barefoot on a beach with the roar of the waves and the wails of seagulls in the background. Climbing to the top of a tower, a hill, a cliff or a mountain and the panoramic view beneath. Summer light through the trees and dappling everything, the sound of a gushing stream when you’re thirsty. Soothing chapstick on dry lips and soft moisturiser on raw skin! Meeting old friends and relatives after a long journey. Learning something or acquiring a skill.

Coming out of a deep meditation and knowing myself better for it. Reading a book that never disappoints, while listening to an album that doesn’t grow old. Watching a play or film with flawless direction, plot, cast and set. Hearing a song on the radio that has exactly the appropriate lyric. A smooth train ride that doesn’t go amiss, a road trip that never bores or a sequence of events that goes exactly how I’d imagined, without a hiccup. A sequence of events that works out far better than I’d imagined, like a round at Pool or an uncomfortable conversation that turns into uncontrollable giggles and laughter that eventually loses its reason and doesn’t stop, ever! The anticipation of watching someone I’ve put my faith and trust in, step forward and make a speech, take an oath or release an album. The relief of hearing a loved one is out of danger.

Riding rollercoasters, bouncing way too high on a trampoline and flying through the air, screaming  and squealing at full volume. Cold side of the pillow against my cheek, soft grass and warm sand rubbing my feet. A stranger smiling unexpectedly, helping out someone who needs it. Putting a photo album together and reflecting on memories. Knowing when to accept that life couldn’t get any worse, surrendering to its pain and then the pure joy of coming out the other side.

Well I guess Rodgers and Hammerstein couldn’t really cram all that in, otherwise Julie would have had a hell of a mouthful. There really is much more to life than I’d remembered. It was certainly a good exercise this, if somewhat self indulgent, thanks for listening, I mean reading, folks.

NB or PS, not sure what it’s meant to be on a blog. Anyway, KUDOS to the readers who read “Restless Heart” at the beginning and followed it by singing in your head or aloud ” the restless heart,  the promised land…” good old Killers eh?

To start off with, 2 of my bestest friends came back from university! Emma actually made it from Cornwall and words can’t express my joy at that. And Joe came from Farnham, a fair way to come too, especially when the forecasters were threatening us with a weather front straight from Siberia..

My birthday was very special, Emma joined my parents, grandma, sister and me, Joe and Jakob also making appearances. We had a splendid lunch, I was spoilt with gifts and cards. At teatime, my uncle, aunt, little cousin and other best friend Emilie turned up for tea. And in the evening, my parents, grandmother, sister, Emma, the boys and I went to see Slumdog Millionaire. It was a harrowing, powerful story to see on your birthday, but I’m glad I did and it is certainly worthy of the huge critical acclaim it’s getting.

The evening was rounded off by a fabulous home-cooked meal, fillet steak! My favourite! And the illegal viewing of the yet unreleased video of U2’s Get on Your Boots, which is awesome and has reminded me again why exactly I love this band. Joe, Emma and I also had a late night walk on the golf course, under the new moon and stars, which was lovely. It had been a long time since just the three of us had been together like that and it reminded me of how much I missed these two U2 haters, while they were off at university.

 Stella, another close friend, along with Ned, organised my partay, hosted at the latter’s incredible chapel, (I will write about the significance of his home for my group of friends soon), which was great, especially as I have been organising our weekly socials for a while now. We danced and chatted and hung out and had our photos taken by Ned, who as well as being our Venue Lord, is also our resident Annie Leibovitz!  In the middle of the party, they presented me with the gift of 1 U2 ticket (for when they come on sale), chocolates, cards and a cake made by the fabulous Stella.

The weekend was nearly over, my Sunday was very relaxed and I did very little. But then Monday brought the promised Siberian weather, most of the UK woke up to at least 4 inches of SNOW! And as ever, our country, unable to cope was brought to a stand still, slowing everyone down, bringing everyone out to their local slopes and tobogganing. I am lucky enough to live on the edge of a golf course as well as own the Rolls Royces of sledges, and so out we went. The first expedition was a walk down to the village, driving was not really an option, and it did awaken in me a yearning for the simple life. In the afternoon, we joined what felt like all of Forest Row on the slopes of the golf course and had a blast!

What a birthday weekend indeed, my love, appreciation and gratitude go to all those whose love came in many different form. So a little love back to them:

Sophie, for being the coolest sister ever: late night pizza and chats, early morning Gilmore girls, make up and love!

Dad: Advice always on tap, reflecting perfectly and for unstinting support and guidance.

Mum: For always listening, even when you’d rather not hear it, the same as dad, straightening hair, domestic goddess tips and for mummy hugs.

Grandma: For always listening, pearls of wisdom and experience, great food, helping out whenever/whatever the need.

Kim, Anne-Marie and Max D-H: For being the hippest relatives with a brilliant shared sense of humour, and for coming to tea.

Emma: Words will never be enough, but for making the trip back, always being on the other end of a phone call, unconditional giving and so much more.

Emilie: For untiring patience, always ready to listen, forgiveness, walks on the forest, gentleness, determination and friendship.

Stella: For always being on the other end of msn, hearing my rants and raves, giggling a lot, catching onto my ideas and running with them. SEXXXX!

Joe: For challenging my every opinion, your goofy sense of humour, for my poem, introducing me to new music and always being entertaining.

Ned: For mindblowing photographs and for being lord of a venue that will always have a special place in ma hearrrt, d’aw!

Jakob: For your purity of mind and heart, your humour, your laughter and just  being amazing.

Alex: An absent friend, for shared car journeys, eclectic music, endless conversations about beautiful people, mutual harassment, mutual respect and maple candy.

Oli: Another absent friend, for our random sense of humour, spot on impersonations, your listening skills, for surprising me at Christmas.

Will: For interesting philosophical insights, for hosting MFNs, your humour, your blog, your tenacity and being brave enough to be the first of us to go off and really see the world.

Ali, Phoebe, Christy, Annie and Billy: I affectionately call you the babies or the little ones, because in reality you are all so grown up (not to mention towering over me) and are going to turn this world upside down with your individual talents, beauty and sheer coolness.  

Alicia: For disagreements over men and music, makeovers, your beautiful singing voice and impressive acting skills.

Hannah: For being kind, gorgeous, hard-working funny and lovely, we will do that coffee soon!

Vanessa: For the cinema, fabulous late night chats, the law of attraction, makeovers too and good fun.

Christina: For amazing dancing, always listening, empathetic, compassionate and caring so much.

Becca: For THERAPY, awesome dance moves, your HUGS, your honesty and Becca LOVE.

Abra and Merle: For hot chocolates, good food, listening, being on my wavelength, understanding about taking life at your own pace and so much more.

And all my daisies: Steph, Maddy, Min, Charlotte, Kelly, Irene, Lisa, Sarah and Marie-Anne: For sharing the U2 love, especially the Bono part, and being awesome friends that I’m  so glad to have met, through this Irish band.

I LOVE YOU ALL, YOU ALL MAKE MY LIFE EVERY DAY!

                             Pretence

Keeping up the masked faces, the fake, superficial pretences,

Fearful and terrified of letting down well established defences

Tension rising as they struggle to maintain conversation,

Relying on mutual conflict for self preservation.

Stormy green eyes fixed upon her deep brown gaze

Searching one another, stumbling through the maze

Of lost intimacy and broken trust

Shrouded feelings and hidden lust.

The banter continues, meaningless talk,

He circles around her, affecting his confident walk

She stands still, fighting the storm that threatens to rise

Within her at the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes.

Sweet memories come flooding back with fierce intensity,

Strong emotions forced behind walls of stronger density

They continue to act as if everything’s fine

Refusing to cross over their invisible line

I love the man, quite simply. He seems genuine, he has a gorgeous smile, yes I would actually have his babies (were it not for the fact that he already had two beautiful children) and I believe in him. I believe in him, and if he is already keeping some of his campaign promises, like closing Guantanamo Bay, then I will continue to believe in him. It is time that we had a world leader that my generation can respect and learn from. So please, can we find someone in British politics equally inspiring. Ok more on Obamarama, when I’m feeling more eloquent and when we have seen what six months or so in the White House has done for him. Here is

                                     “How I See It”

“Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.” From the UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

I am nineteen years old, I speak today from my heart and to share with you my observations.

I see a world where infants are separated from their families as early as possible. I see parents going back to work, leaving their babies in the company of strangers.  

I see a world where there seem to be only two life lessons that children are allowed to learn at their own speed which are walking and talking. I see that the words organic and holistic are in vogue but I see nothing organic or holistic about the learning process in schools.

I see a world where children start school at age four. At only four years old, they start a five day week, nine until three every day.

I see a world where like cattle, children are herded into an alien environment called a classroom with one, possibly two overstretched, underpaid adults and between 20 and 30 peers.

I see a world where teachers are expected to be able to teach these classes, to give each individual the right tools for life. I wonder if that is possible, when a child at school on average gets about six minutes of one-to-one attention every day?

I see a world where the school curriculum is set out by the government in the ‘correct’ manner. I see that the young people themselves have no say in the subjects on the curriculum or what they would like to learn.

I see a world where adults are so afraid to let young people follow their instincts or desires, that even their bodily functions are controlled.

I see a world where individuality is scorned but conformity celebrated. I see peer pressure beginning in the school environment. I see a world where the superficial image, what you wear and what you have means far more than who you are.

 “The only good is knowledge and the only evil is ignorance.” Socrates

I see a world where the true values, the core principles and morals that make a person whole are swept under the rug, forgotten and ignored. I see a world where marks and grades are far more important than the happiness and self worth of a person, A*s of much higher value than self knowledge. Academic aptitude and ability of greater significance than being able to cultivate and manage relationships.

I see a world where schools resemble gaols and the years within those walls feel like a prison sentence. I see little joy and love in these places, yet you expect your children to have the happiest years of their lives there.

I see a world where the pressure to strive for material success seems overwhelming. I see it dividing families, causing health problems, addiction, depression and general dysfunction.

********************************************************************

May I share with you what I would like to see instead?

I want to see a world where we are doing everything to support and encourage close family units, valuing each other and building firm, loving, harmonious relationships.

I want to see a world where education nurtures us from when we are ready, whether that age is five or twelve years old.

I want to see a world where people’s passion for learning is never dulled or dampened by a compulsory curriculum. Where learning is a constant process and part of the cycle of life. 

I want to see a world where we have non-coercive education centres with flexible programmes, moulded to the individual rather than have the individual moulded by them.

I want to see a world where education centres are built in harmony with the environment, where learning to conserve and care for the earth and her inhabitants is one of life’s most important lessons.

I want to see a world where everyone is regarded as a teacher.

I want to see a world where hands-on, practical education is equally as important as book learning.

I want to see a world where the young and the old are not separated from one another in ‘schools’ and ‘old people’s homes’. Where the young can learn from the elders and the elders are made happier by the presence of the young.

I want to see a world where lessons in tolerance for one another and coexisting with each other are high priority.

I want to see a world that celebrates the individual and the choices he or she makes.  

I want to see a world where an individual has complete responsibility for her choices but has guidance from parents, siblings and other mentor figures.

I want to see a world where the meaning of success is understood as knowing how to manifest our dreams and to achieve balance of body, mind, heart and soul.

Most of all, I want to see a world where education aids every person in their quest for self knowledge, their pursuit of happiness and the fulfilment of their goals and dreams.  

Thank you for your time.  

Hey there,

I’m Anna, 19 years young, ok not quite, but very nearly. I have almost hit the last year of being a teen, cue celebration dances. Because when you hit twenty, everything changes, right? Spots vanish, mood swings even out, love becomes an easy game to play and life becomes one long picnic, or that’s the dream isn’t it? In this blog, I’ll be writing about my somewhat different adolescence.

You may be curious as to the title of my blog (teenage coach), it should have a space, but you know what online URLs are like, they didn’t even let me space it with a hyphen or an underscore, fascists! I’ll tell you about the grammatically incorrect username after giving you a little information about me. Hopefully, it won’t be too long, it certainly shouldn’t be but Leona Lewis is managing an autobiography and she’s not much older than me!  

I was born one early January morning in 1990 to a then record producer and his artist wife, just outside London. Soon after my appearance earth side, my father quit the music business. My birth and the subsequent death of his own father had initiated a chain reaction within him that made him see that in fact, he wanted to be there for my mother and me. So leaving the crazy hours and spoilt musicians behind, dad became a gardener. On Friday, he was mixing his final record, the following Monday, driving the family Nova with a lawn-mower in the car-boot to his first garden.

My blonde and in every other way opposite to me, sister Sophie joined  us a couple of years later. Hazy memories of these years, obviously, although happy ones. Holidays in the west country with the grandparents, playing with Sophie, good days at school, the occasional bad day. Play-tent, Sooty, Blue Peter, Toby Anstis, John Major, (with whom I had a curious obsession) and the rest. I was blissfully unaware of the challenges that my parents faced with a mortgage and their landscaping company. The next thing that I was aware of, was that my father had a very bad sore throat and couldn’t speak. For days this went on, days that bled into weeks, then months turned into a year.

It was through this health crisis that my parents had their St Paul on the Road to Damascus moment. We moved into rented accommodation, they closed their little garden shop and Arcadia Landscaping. Determined not to go to the doctor for his throat, ma and pa decided to look into ‘alternative and ‘complementary medicine’. They’d been going to a homeopath for a few years, but this was still a completely new world to them, one that led them to learning meditation, flower remedies, Scott M Peck and many other now well known clichés of the self-help market. Back then, it was all very new and radical, especially in our square Surrey town.  

’96 saw the full recovery of dad, without any medical intervention. Picking up on all the family change, I had no desire to go into the last year of my primary school. Recently introduced through copious reading to the work of Rudolf Steiner, my mother decided to take us all to visit Michael Hall, a school started by the aforementioned Austrian philosopher.

Whether it was the proximity to Winnie the Pooh’s ’hood, the fairytale mansion or the sweeping grounds of the school, I fell completely in love. With very little fuss or hype and the respect that my parents have always endeavoured to give my sister and me, we were enrolled for the following term. At the beginning of ’97, we moved from the near stifling normalcy of Surrey to a green roofed house in Forest Row. The international, buzzing community that must be as far from normal as it is possible to be, although we all co-exist peacefully with the many muggles that also inhabit this Sussex village.

The years at Michael Hall and living in Michael Fields guaranteed my sister and I an idyllic childhood. Yes the classic kind of childhood that certain newspapers are campaigning to bring back, as if it died with the dodo. It’s certainly an endangered species, but not altogether as extinct as well-meaning, older generations would have you believe. 

Having quit the landscaping, my parents became intuitive counsellors, life-coaches, authors and general practitioners of radical and alternative lifestyle, without trying to make them sound too guru-like. Both have worked from home since 1997, coaching people suffering from cancer to those going through divorce. A different lifestyle to many of our contemporaries that has meant we have always had our parents there, with certain sacrifice on their side, although Sophie and I have never gone without.

At the age of eleven, I felt suffocated at Michael Hall and needed a change. I wanted something new and ‘home education’ that my mother occasionally mentioned (never really believing that either my sister or I would actually take up on it) held such strong appeal that I decided I wanted to try it.

So out my sister and I came to try what we would later call ‘radical unschooling’. The term home education or worse home-schooling implies being taught by your mother pretending to be a Victorian governess. Of course, that was our first term, but then mum and dad decided that we should be trusted to lead our own education. So of course the term: Radical unschooling applies much more, because of course Sophie and I in our new freedom, revelled like pigs in mud.  

A brief summary of our early unschooling years: initiating the local area’s home education circle, helping out at the local farm, puppetry, wood-work, French, sailing, wind-surfing, English, drama, childcare, biology, astrology, beach trips, camping trips, Buddhist festival, art, music, psychology, caring for the elderly and most important for my sister and I: playing. We played for years, rebuilding a relationship that had been left in tatters by our school induced separation.

The years pass, suddenly I’m travelling like I’d always wanted to do: Germany, France, Holland, France (again), Hawaii*, Italy, France (yet again), Canada, America, Ireland, Portugal, Italy and Ireland. Does it count if they’re duplicates? If it does, my footprint is looking about the size of a yeti’s, ouch! And I like to think of myself as a conscious, switched on kinda gal, as far as environmentalism is concerned.

Other than travelling, I have worked for The Mother magazine (pieces for which I will put up over the next few days, cheaty blogs you see) and its ex publishing company: The Art of Change, which happens to be run by my parents. I know, it’s who you know, not what you know. I have also completed a freelance journalism and feature writing course, honours diploma, which along with a couple of GCSEs and Driving License are the extent of my qualifications. I’ve also produced and performed in a number of Am-Dram events, worked in two cafés, at a charity shop and by and large have had a blast, despite zits, falling in love with all the wrong boys and experienced the universal soap opera that is adolescence.

Recently, I began a life-coach course with mum and dad. Spot the word coach in there? Good. No honours degree in that for me yet, however, I am already learning the basics and for target practice, sorry I mean for your benefit and my own, I would like to offer my services as a teenage coach. They use a great model known as NRCS, pronounced nawks, and it is a radical way to communicate. It’s definitely changed the way I deal with relationships and myself, so I can recommend it without too much bias. Being still in my teens, I am probably more able to relate to adolescent issues than your average ‘shrink’ or ‘coach’ and maybe that is equally valid to having many years of life experience. It is of course up to you to make that decision, suffice to say that I would love to hear from you if you are in need of a listening ear or a different way to respond in relationships.

I look forward to hearing from you. My email address is anna90 @ live .co.uk < strangely spaced to avoid spambots! Evil things. Comments are welcome.

                                  Namaste

                                 Anna      

*I happen to be a massive U2 fan. The Irish band have been a big part of my life in recent years. A friend of mine said once that he believed all teens needed to have at least one insane obsession. U2 happen to be mine and before you go kidding yourself that’s sane and healthy compared to say doing crack; you should probably know, they were the reason for my 20,000 mile round trip to Hawaii.