The Kicking the Bucket List

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The Kicking the Bucket List Page 24

by Cathy Hopkins


  ‘Worked for me,’ said Fleur.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ I said.

  ‘Then you’ve both got your heads in the clouds. The only people who make money out of this way of thinking are the people who write the books and make the CDs about it,’ said Rose. ‘There are a lot of gullible people out there, suckers who don’t know how to do a day’s proper work.’

  ‘Why so negative, Rose?’ asked Fleur. ‘We can at least give it a go. I like the idea of a worry box.’

  ‘Like that will help anything.’

  ‘Why not?’ I asked.

  Rose sighed. ‘Because real life is more complicated than these positive-thinking gurus make it sound.’

  I glanced over at Daniel. He was looking at Rose again. His eyes were soft with an expression of tenderness. It took me by surprise. Why is he looking at her like that? I wondered. He noticed me staring at him and looked away from Rose, who hadn’t noticed, nor had Fleur. I didn’t imagine that, I thought. But Rose and Daniel? That doesn’t make sense. Hugh and Rose are rock solid. Always have been. Has he got a crush on her? Drawn to the unattainable, whereas I’ve been too submissive, a pushover. He knows he can have me so there’s no challenge left?

  ‘OK, Daniel,’ said Fleur. ‘Tell us what to do, then we shall change the world by the power of our minds. We will bring about world peace, erase poverty and rid ourselves of cellulite.’

  I could see it was going to be an interesting two days.

  *

  Daniel left us with a CD player, CDs, a schedule of instructions and paper and pens to do exercises.

  ‘Call me if you need to,’ he said, ‘but I think it’s straightforward.’

  He seemed in a hurry to get out and, also, a bit glum. I debated whether to text him later and ask what was going on. Where he was last night? Why didn’t he come to see me? Would we meet up on Sunday? Why was he looking at Rose in that way? And why did he seem fed up towards the end? I decided not to. I could hear myself asking the questions and knew that I would sound anxious and needy. I didn’t want to come across as a nag, keeping tabs on him, especially if I was right about him being a man who liked a challenge when it came to women. I’d been there before with Nick and John and I wasn’t going to do it again. Men like them could turn things around so suddenly and make out that it was me that was the problem. I didn’t want to be told that I was being demanding or paranoid. No. Been there, done that, I thought.

  Just after he left, three mobile phones beeped. ‘More messages from beyond the grave,’ said Fleur as we reached into our bags.

  Mum’s message read: ‘Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you,’ Matthew 7:7.

  ‘OK. I’m putting in my order then,’ said Fleur. ‘Ask, and it will be given to you. I’ll have a café latte and an almond croissant. Dee? Rose? What do you want?’

  Saturday 11 June, 11 a.m.

  The first item on the schedule was to listen to a CD. Creating Your Dreams. We sat in comfy chairs and listened. It lasted almost an hour and the narrator was an Australian man called Jack Marcuson. He talked about the power of positive thought. I think Fleur nodded off at one point. I almost did. Rose sat, stiff backed, eyes opened. Occasionally she’d huff or puff her objection to something that was being said.

  ‘What do you really want? Think about it, then put your prayer out in the same way that you’d put in an order in a catalogue. Then let the universe do its magic. Ask. Trust it will happen. Accept. Ask clearly and precisely. Believe that it will happen. Visualize yourself enjoying what it is that you want as if it is already happening in the present. Don’t say I will have: no, say I have; always use the present tense. The universe will resonate with you on this and deliver.’

  ‘Like a pizza delivery man,’ said Fleur, suddenly coming round. ‘Make mine a Quattro Formaggi.’

  Jack continued: ‘Like attracts like. Your thoughts send out a magnetic signal. If you don’t like what you’re seeing manifest in your life, tune into a different frequency. If you want to change your life, change channels by changing your thoughts. See yourself living in abundance.’

  ‘Already do matey,’ said Fleur.

  It was true. Fleur had always believed she was destined to be successful. I wondered how much of my life I had brought on myself. I definitely didn’t live in abundance. I struggled and had done for years. Had I brought this on myself by my way of thinking?

  Jack hadn’t finished. ‘The mind doesn’t hear negatives, so never phrase anything like, I don’t want to live in poverty, or I don’t want to lose my job, because the universe hears I do want this or I do want that. Your life is a manifestation of your thoughts and you will attract those that are predominant. So think affirmative thoughts. Never negatives. Your feelings are the feedback. Ask. Trust it will happen. Accept as if you already have it.’

  ‘Bollocks,’ said Rose in a loud voice.

  ‘Have you suddenly developed Tourette’s?’ asked Fleur.

  ‘Shh, I’m listening,’ I said.

  ‘When visualizing,’ Jack continued, ‘remember moving pictures are easier to imagine than static ones. For example, imagine a garden. Now imagine yourself out there, mowing the lawn, planting plants and bulbs. Get it? It’s easier to imagine yourself as if in the scene, living the life that you choose. You can choose whatever you like. The universe is endlessly creative and abundant. You make what you want to happen with your mind. Expect the things you want. See yourself enjoying these things. The law of attraction makes it happen. Good luck my friends. Remember you are the genie and you are the lamp.’

  When the CD finished, Fleur stood up. ‘I am the genie, I am the lamp. Oh fuck, I’m on fire.’

  I laughed. Rose didn’t.

  ‘You OK, Rose?’

  ‘Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘Because you’re in a stinking mood, that’s why,’ said Fleur. ‘What’s the matter? Work? Hugh? Menopause? Vaginal dryness?’

  Rose sighed. ‘Don’t be gross, Fleur. I’m a bit tired, that’s all, and just wait until you hit the menopause.’

  ‘Ah, so it is that,’ said Fleur.

  ‘None of your business,’ said Rose. ‘Listen, Laura and Simon are home from university this weekend. It’s close enough to London to drive back, so do you mind if I work on whatever exercises there are to do in the lunch break so I can finish early? Then I’m going to head home to see Simon and Laura and to my own bed. You don’t mind, do you?’

  Fleur looked at me. ‘I don’t mind. Dee?’

  ‘I … no go ahead. Course.’ I wanted to tell them about Daniel and me, but I couldn’t do it if Rose was rushing off. Tomorrow, I thought, I can tell them about Daniel tomorrow.

  *

  We worked on through the rest of the day, with sandwiches brought in for lunch. I enjoyed doing the exercises. I thought about what I wanted to do, who I wanted to be, and let my imagination run riot. ‘Don’t put limits on yourself and what you can achieve,’ Jack had said. So I didn’t, and I visualized myself having a successful art exhibition, being there in the room, meeting and greeting people. I saw myself completing the purchase of No. 3, Summer Lane, as if it was really happening: signing the documents, getting the deeds to the house in my hands. It felt good.

  ‘You could manifest yourself a man,’ Fleur said to me. ‘Write down exactly what you want. I’m going to do the same.’

  Not a bad idea, I thought, and started to describe Daniel, then I crossed out what I’d written and wrote, kind. I want a kind man. I have a kind man. And then I was off. He is honest, generous, has nice hands …

  Fleur was writing pages too. ‘Mr Positivity there on the CD said be as specific as you can be.’

  ‘So what have you written Fleur?’

  ‘I want a Buddha with balls and a Bentley,’ she replied.

  I was surprised. ‘Buddha? You want a spiritual master?’ I laughed. She really had taken the ‘no boundaries’ part of the CD seriously.

  ‘I mean
a spiritual man but one who isn’t a wimp. I don’t go for the open-toed sandals and grows alfalfa sprouts brigade. I want one with testosterone, hence the balls part, so a manly man who has some respect for life and relationships. No oafs, Casanovas, rats or two-timers.’

  ‘And the Bentley?’ asked Rose.

  ‘Meaning he’d have his own income. I’m not having anyone sponging off me. Oops, just used negatives. How can I rephrase that? He will be financially independent. He is financially independent. See, I’m getting the hang of the lingo.’

  ‘So basically you want Mr Perfect. Well, good luck with that Fleur,’ said Rose.

  ‘Ask, trust it will happen, accept,’ she said in a perfect take-off of Jack’s Australian accent. ‘I’m giving it a try. I have money and all that, but maybe I could do with a partner, and that CD said I can make one up, so that’s what I’m doing.’

  ‘What about you, Rose?’ I asked. ‘You don’t have to say if you don’t want.’

  ‘Mainly stuff about my kids and Hugh, though you know I don’t believe in this stuff.’

  ‘But what about you?’ asked Fleur. ‘What do you want?’

  For a moment, Rose looked tearful, but she shook it off. ‘You to butt out of my business, Fleur Parker.’

  On to the next exercise. How is your time divided? I read on the sheet of paper. Make a circle and divide it into pie-size slices that relate to how much time you give each of the following: spirit, exercise, play, work, friends, romance, adventure.

  Work got a huge slice. Friends medium. Exercise: a thin sliver. I’ve neglected that of late. Romance a thin slice, since Daniel and I see each other so rarely now. Adventure medium slice due to Mum’s kicking the bucket list. Play, nonexistent at the moment. I’ve been too busy painting. But I enjoy that, I thought, so made that slice bigger.

  Now look at your circle. Is there an imbalance? Take note of the pie slices that are too small and try and address that. OK, I thought. Must meditate more. Pray and play.

  Next was an instruction to write affirmations about what we wanted. I did them as if I was doing lines in detention.

  I, Dee McDonald, am a successful artist. I, Dee McDonald, am a successful artist. I, Dee McDonald, am a successful artist.

  ‘These exercises are frigging endless,’ said Fleur as she glanced over the pages we were supposed to fill. ‘I don’t know. Five adventures I’d like to have? Ten things I’d like in my life? Name my goals/dreams for five years’ time. Actions I can take to achieve that. Plan a perfect day. What exactly is the point of all this?’

  ‘To identify goals and how you can achieve them,’ I said.

  ‘Of all the tasks, this is the most boring,’ said Fleur. ‘Apart from the make a man bit. I liked doing that.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Rose. ‘Very boring.’

  I decided to ignore the two of them and their complaining and continued with my papers, thinking about goals and what I’d like to achieve. For things to be clearer with Daniel. My exhibition to be a success. My sisters and I finishing this kicking the bucket list and staying in contact. The completion of my house sale.

  ‘And, lastly, the worry box,’ said Fleur.

  ‘And what is the point of that exactly?’ asked Rose.

  ‘To give your cares to God and let him take care of them,’ I replied.

  ‘What if you’re an atheist like me?’ asked Rose.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘Write them to Santa Claus.’

  ‘Like I believe in him,’ said Rose.

  ‘The tooth fairy,’ said Fleur. ‘You used to believe in her.’

  ‘How about we save ourselves some time?’ said Rose.

  ‘How?’ I asked.

  ‘Write – All my worries on every level for the rest of time, Amen, and put that in the box,’ said Rose.

  ‘I don’t think that’s taking it very seriously,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, I think it is and it covers everything.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Fleur.

  Rose scribbled her line, folded her piece of paper and stuck it in the leather worry box that had been provided. ‘So I’ll be off then. See you both tomorrow.’ Minutes later, she was gone.

  ‘Looks like it’s up to you and me to create a cure for cancer and bring about world peace then,’ said Fleur as she wrote a few more lines and put them in the box. ‘Do you think Rose is OK?’

  ‘I … what makes you ask?’

  ‘Dunno. She looks tired and prickly if you ask her anything about her life.’

  ‘What? More than normal?’

  ‘Maybe not. Maybe it is the menopause.’ She chewed on the end of her pen for a few moments. ‘This list of Mum’s, do you think it’s bringing us closer?’

  ‘Sometimes yes, sometimes no.’

  ‘Me too, though I feel like I’ve hardly reached Rose and she’s just doing it for the inheritance. I was thinking, she could have driven us all back to London. It’s been ages since I saw Simon and Laura and Hugh. Not since Mum’s funeral, in fact. It didn’t even occur to her to ask if we’d like to go back, all together, like family.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Have we created the situation with our thoughts?’

  Fleur shrugged. ‘No way. Rose is just being Rose but … Dee, would you mind terribly if I went back to London too? It’s only a short drive away and I’ve got some work I should finish. I’ll be back first thing in the morning and I just don’t fancy another night in a strange bed in a strange hotel hanging about till morning.’ I must have looked disappointed because she added, ‘Nothing personal, honestly. I really do have some calls to make, emails to send.’

  ‘Course I don’t mind,’ I said. An idea popped into my mind. Daniel was only a short drive away too, and could easily come to join me if I let him know I’d be alone.

  After Fleur had left, I was about to send a text, then hesitated. Daniel’d know that Fleur and Rose weren’t with me. Our time spent together was surely as much of Mum’s list as the tasks she’d set us; in fact, sometimes I wondered if the tasks were just an excuse to get us together in the hope that we’d have cosy suppers together. If I let Daniel know that Rose and Fleur had gone, that might disqualify us from having completed the condition of Mum’s will properly. We were too close to completing it, so I went to my room, got room service, watched a movie, and wished I’d been able to drive home like my sisters.

  Sunday 12 June

  In the morning, a text came from Mum. It said: ‘Make every day your favourite day.’

  I smiled to see the old, familiar line. Mum always said it when my sisters and I were little and one of us went to her crying or with some complaint about the other. Well, let’s see about that, I thought, as I got ready to go down and meet Fleur and Rose. There had been no contact from Daniel, and I was finding it hard to remain detached. I felt hurt by his lack of communication.

  Sunday 12 June, 11 a.m.

  Our mindfulness teacher was waiting for us in a small conference room on the ground floor of the hotel. He looked in his fifties, tall with white hair and a beard. He looked serious but serene, and I noted that he had several thread bracelets on his wrist similar to the ones that Daniel wore. I noticed Fleur checking him out. Although he was attractive, I didn’t think he was her type. He looked the kind of man who spent time outdoors, cutting down trees, gardening or sailing. I always imagined that Fleur would go for a more sophisticated man with all the appearance of wealth. This man had a checked lumberjack shirt on and a pair of jeans.

  ‘Good morning ladies,’ he said when we were seated in comfortable chairs in a conference room. ‘I’m Andrew and am your teacher for the day. Are you ready to begin?’

  We nodded.

  ‘Today I want to introduce you to the concept of mindfulness.’

  ‘How does it differ from meditation?’ asked Rose.

  ‘It has many similarities. Often meditation is something people do in silence, going within to find stillness, and I believe, from talking to Daniel, that you have already had a session do
ing that, so today will be more about living mindfully. Mindfulness is a way of carrying that stillness from inside into our external world so we live consciously. For example, often people eat and don’t taste what they’re eating as their mind is elsewhere. They don’t notice their surroundings because of what they have to do next, and they’re already thinking about that so miss the moment they’re in. Mindfulness is a way of living consciously, using all the senses to experience the present moment.’

  Sounds good, I thought.

  ‘What if you don’t want to be present?’ asked Fleur. ‘Like you’re having your legs waxed? Or you’re at the dentist? In fact, you want to be anywhere but where you are?’

  ‘Excellent question, Fleur,’ said Rose. ‘Andrew?’

  Andrew smiled and appraised Fleur for a moment. ‘Yes, good question. In those situations, I’d suggest that you should use meditation to go within,’ he replied, ‘to find a place inside of yourself that is still and calm, or you could use a visualization to help remind you of a different environment. But, as I said, today is about living mindfully – where you can and where you choose to.’

  ‘Maybe you could teach me that other stuff too: visualizations,’ said Fleur. ‘I hate the dentist.’

  Andrew smiled again. ‘Me too. OK. So sit comfortably, relaxed but alert, then we will go through a series of everyday experiences to demonstrate. Just take a few breaths to bring yourselves into your bodies. Be aware of how the chair feels beneath you, feel the weight of your feet on the floor. Good.’ He cut up apples and handed them to us. ‘First we’re going to eat mindfully. I want you to hold the apple in your hand. How heavy does it feel? What’s the texture like? Smooth? Hard? Soft? Now lift it to your face. How does it smell?’ We lifted and inhaled the soft, sweet scent. ‘Good. Now take a bite. How does it feel on your tongue? In your mouth. Crunch. Chew. How does that feel?’

  We swallowed and I got what he was saying. So often I ate something and was so immersed in my thoughts or anxieties I wasn’t even aware of what it was I’d eaten.

  ‘See? Easy? You can apply this simple method to all walks of your life,’ Andrew continued. ‘When you see someone, a friend, a family member, really look at them.’

 

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