Daydreaming
A tale of curiosity and storytelling
Over the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking about how I’ve been able to create a new picture of my future: one that recognises the positives and uncertainty of life.
While pondering this, my mind went straight back to a holiday when I was maybe seven or eight years old. No bucket and spade trip for us, we were off somewhere ‘interesting’ by car – not necessarily what a child wants when all your classmates are building sandcastles and chewing on sticks of rock. But there was method in my parent’s madness of stuffing three children into the car and exploring less typical ‘holiday’ destinations, and we certainly saw the world. This holiday was to Bavaria where we journeyed through endless deep, dark forests. Even at that age I thought ‘if you’ve seen one Bavarian Forest, you’ve seen them all’.
Having stopped for a leg-stretch, my parents left a moaning, walk-reluctant Rachel in the car while they explored the area (maybe child safety wasn’t such a thing in those days!). I wasn’t a book worm child, but one book had recently captured my imagination - the tales of Mrs Pepperpot. Maybe some of you remember her?
Our heroine was a loveable old lady who lived in Norway on the edge of a forest and would reduce to the size of a pepperpot without a moment’s notice. Inconvenient perhaps, but it allowed her to have all manner of adventures with the small creatures who lived in the forest. I spent hours devouring tales of her exploits.
I started to think about Mrs Pepperpot as I sat in the car watching my parents through the trees outside, and as I gazed out the window, I started to imagine that I was with Mrs Pepperpot. Without a book, I created a whole new story in my head. It was the first time I realised that I didn’t need a book to escape reality and enjoy an adventure, I could use my own imagination. I still remember the wonderful sense of escapism as I visualised all the things that would happen to get to the end of my story.
That brief stop in the Bavarian forest had such a profound impact, it opened my mind to a love of storytelling, the characters and their interactions. It fed my huge curiosity and provided a secret refuge in my child’s mind to be creative.
So here we are more than 50 years later, in March 2025. Spring is here and not a day seems to pass without a drama every time you turn on the news. However, my past few weeks have been spent focusing on something much smaller and closer to home than world news, as the arrival of March now brings with it a sense of unease for me.
On March 18th 2023 I turned 60 - a milestone in anyone’s life. A few weeks later I was diagnosed with breast cancer, quickly followed by melanoma. How on earth did that happen? Random fact: I’m told that finding a second cancer is more common than you’d think. Then in March last year, having emerged from treatment, I found myself in that 60-year-old+ no-(wo)mans-land without a job. It was easy to start taking things rather personally!
I’m not one to dwell on the negatives of life yet these big twists made me realise that the future I had planned, the one I believed I had drawn out sensibly and pragmatically, was not going to happen. I needed to reassess everything and, as painful as that could be, perhaps there was a new story to write. It might even be fun if I could move past the huge dollop of fear in front of me.
Two years worth of big March news filled me with apprehension as the month approached this year. Determined to do things differently, this time I switched off, stepping back from writing here. I focussed on my new work, and tried to have a break away from endless health chatter. For the last few weeks I have carved out time to think about everything that has happened, and recognise that big life changes are never easy, but it is entirely possible to create a new story if I remain open to possibilities.
So much of a child’s natural instinct becomes more important as we tackle the big stuff that comes with life. What I’ve come to realise is that subconsciously I have always applied storytelling to the way I work and live. Is that healthy? You tell me! But before anyone gets the wrong idea, I’m not advocating some sort of manifestation technique – I’m not a fan of “The Secret” type of belief that sketching a Porsche on paper will see me driving one next year. What I’m talking about is a visual story that as it takes shape still recognises the importance of tackling shifting realities of failure, risk, people drifting in and out, and the uncertainty of life with whom we must all make friends.
Sadly children too often lose that Bavarian forest style creative ability - and joy - as they grow. But not always. During my time working with physicists I was struck by how many could trace their love of physics to childhood - the stars, planets, how things work. Their awe of the physical world, their curiosity, and what that can mean for all manner of problem fixing. They held onto their thirst for knowledge to study one of the most incredibly creative subjects, as complex in its vastness as its precision. I remember in my frequent moments of physics muddle, a very experienced and kind physicist telling me not to worry. Just remember Rachel, he said, think like a child - there is no such thing as asking too many questions. What a relief!
And that is what I have done over the last two years – what I have been forced to do, perhaps. I have had to think about my future in a different way; to accept that my story would have to be different, because that is how life works. At first I was daunted by having what I thought were editorial rights over my life snatched away. But life was simply evolving, and I quietly imagined a new story knowing that it would see me bringing my work in science, social justice and law together. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew that was right for me. I took some practical steps to refine what that meant to me - writing here on Substack became a focus and therapy. Here I am a year later enjoying my work to support equal access to environmental justice and still doing what I can to support refugees.
What has any of this got to do with today’s times of change—whether personal, familial, professional, or global? What I think we can all do is strive to create a clear vision, harnessing our imagination and curiosity to see how we can achieve that vision on our own and with others. Of course we can’t live our lives as constant dreamers. We have to deal with the practical needs and prioritise the responsibilities that life brings. But there is nothing wrong with embracing our childhood’s sense of curiosity and excitement to help us see new opportunities and challenges with enthusiasm rather than trepidation. By doing so, we unlock paths that our adult selves may not have even contemplated.
As for me, over-dwelling is not really my style, so I’m coming to the end of my short self reflection sabbatical having given myself the opportunity to reimagine and visualise my story, take some positive steps towards it and give myself a firm kick forward. There will be sacrifices, positives but a lot of fun, surrounded by incredible family and friends.
But first I need a bit of help from you as I move towards my Substack 1st anniversary month.
A poll…
After 12 months, I have taken a look at which of my Substacks get more reads, and it seems the ones where I divulge my life experiences, and my mistakes - even when buying a new desk - are the most popular, rather than my ranting about the cataclysmic news stories of the day.
I’d be interested to know what it is that you want to read about. Is it my opinions on world events, or is it more interesting to read about how my personal and professional experiences have shaped and even changed my thinking?
Let me know below in the poll and comments, or send me a message. That would be such a huge help. Thank you!