Stories

54.

What does that even mean? Just a number, right? But then, is it just a number? What if I told you today is my birthday and that I’m turning 54? Does that give it more meaning, more weight? Context is everything, isn’t it? It’s what turns random facts into something we can hold on to, something we can make sense of.

Being alive today, writing this post—that feels like a gift. But what about the past, the memories, the choices that led me here? How much do they matter to the present, to where I find myself today?

Right now, I’m sitting in Nauvoo, a small town on the banks of the Mississippi River. To most, it’s just a dot on the map, easy to overlook. But for me, it’s a place loaded with memories.

I spent a lot of time here as a performer, part of the core cast of the Nauvoo Pageant. Back then, I was also a devoted member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, so devoted that I helped bring others into the fold. But now, as I sit here, I see things differently. I no longer belong to that Church; I now consider myself an atheist.

The memories of my time here are fond, yet complex. There’s a certain warmth in looking back, but also a discomfort when I think about the Church’s policies and the broader role of religion as a whole. I can’t help but question the controlling nature that religion often seems to exert.

Soon, I’ll be heading to Chicago, a city that feels more like home than anywhere else. Chicago was where I spent eight incredible years of my life. It’s where I felt valued as an actor, truly seen and loved as a person. I made friendships there that are more like family, the kind that you carry with you wherever you go. Chicago is vibrant, alive, a place where I thrived.

But, even as I yearn for the connections I made there, there’s a hesitation. The reality of living in a place where the risk of gun violence is a constant undercurrent is hard to ignore. 

Then there’s Brighton, my current home. It has its own appeal—the charm of the seaside, the eclectic mix of people, the comfort of a healthcare system that looks after its own. But England has its challenges too. The political landscape feels more insular lately, especially after Brexit, a move that feels like a narrowing of horizons rather than an opening. 

So, here I am at 54, caught between the safety and uncertainty of two very different worlds, torn between the longing for my past life in Chicago and my current reality in Brighton. Is there really a perfect place to live? Or is it more about finding a way to carry all these parts of myself—my memories, my connections, my questions—with me wherever I go?

Maybe it’s about making peace with the contradictions and continuing to move forward, even if I don’t have all the answers yet.

For now, I’m here in Nauvoo, remembering, questioning, reflecting. Soon, I’ll be in Chicago, reconnecting with old friends, feeling the city’s energy again. And after that, who knows? The past is a big part of who I am, but it’s the future that keeps calling me forward.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of experiences and insights, offering both challenges and opportunities.

Recently, I had the pleasure of attending the Storytelling for Health and Wellbeing Conference in Cardiff, Wales. Over two enlightening days, I immersed myself in discussions about the transformative power of storytelling in health and social services, especially for those navigating mental health issues.

It was both humbling and inspiring to hear medical professionals express their concerns about the term “mental health issues,” noting that much of what they encounter post-pandemic is often anxiety-driven, a reflection of our collective shift from what was once considered normal.

As I prepare for the upcoming Storytellers of the Future conference in Bulgaria, these reflections on storytelling’s impact resonate deeply. Both conferences came into my orbit as part of an application for a personal development grant from the Arts Council of England. Despite knowing there’s only a 20% chance of receiving this grant, I’ve committed my own funds, driven by the conviction that these experiences are crucial for my growth as a storyteller.

The uncertainty of funding is nerve-wracking, especially considering the financial strain it places on me, but the potential for personal and professional enrichment makes the gamble worthwhile.

The financial worry is compounded by broader reflections on my identity and career. There’s been a surge of dialogue on social media about working-class actors, and it’s stirred something within me. Despite my privileged education and training at prestigious drama schools, I’ve always identified as working class.

I’m proud of my northern roots and the hard work that has paved my path, but I’m determined not to let labels define me or my journey. Being neurodivergent with dyslexia is part of who I am, but I don’t want these aspects to be seen as reasons for sympathy or as leverage for opportunities. It frustrates me when others use these labels to gain a foothold, and it adds to the pressure I feel in my quest for the next acting role, in nurturing ‘the story pilgrim’, and in striving for personal fulfilment.

What keeps me grounded amidst these pressures is the realisation that my endeavours—be it the newsletter, the blog, or the podcast—are not just about career advancement but are deeply tied to my personal growth and my connection to the world. They remind me that, despite the financial uncertainties and societal expectations, I am fortunate to have good health, a decent standard of living, and the freedom to pursue what I love.

Life’s journey is replete with ups and downs, but with every step, I am learning, evolving, and finding my way.

It’s been quite a journey since I first set foot on the Camino de Santiago.

Back then, it was just me, a small team, my thoughts, and the endless path ahead. Little did I know that those 500 miles would be the beginning of something much bigger – a project that’s all about connecting people through genuine, heartfelt stories.

After the Camino, life took various twists and turns: the pandemic hit, I moved back to England, I did a masters and then I took to the skies, quite literally. As a cabin crew member for a major airline, I’ve had the incredible opportunity to meet people from all walks of life, each with their own unique story. From the bustling streets of Hong Kong to the serene landscapes of Cape Town, every destination adds a new chapter to my own story.

But the journey doesn’t stop at traveling. My passion for acting has always been a significant part of who I am. Performing “Underneath the Lintel” 26 times along the Camino was an experience that intertwined storytelling and pilgrimage in a way that was both challenging and rewarding. It taught me the power of persistence and the beauty of human connection.

‘the story pilgrim’ has evolved from those days on the Camino. It’s not just about walking and recording my thoughts anymore; it’s about capturing the essence of every place I visit and every person I meet. Whether it’s a heartfelt conversation with a fellow traveller or a quiet moment of reflection on a secluded beach, these experiences shape the stories we share.

One of my favourite parts of this journey is hearing from you – the community that has grown around the story pilgrim. Your stories, reflections, and connections make this project what it is. Together, we’re creating a tapestry of human experiences that spans the globe.

As I continue to travel and explore, I’m excited to share more stories with you. There’s a whole world out there, full of untold tales waiting to be discovered. So, whether you’re on a pilgrimage of your own, pursuing a passion, or simply navigating the everyday, remember that your story matters. 

Thank you for being part of this journey. Here’s to the next chapter of the story pilgrim – may it be filled with adventure, connection, and, of course, plenty of stories.

Buen Camino!

In the ebb and flow of life’s currents, there are moments where the tide seems to stand still, where the waters of opportunity appear calm and silent. For those of us navigating the tumultuous seas of pursuing our passions, these quiet times can be the most challenging to traverse. It’s in these moments that we must summon our inner strength, drawing upon resilience and determination to stay the course.

Finding Balance

Transitioning to a part-time role has offered me the gift of time—time to immerse myself in the craft that sets my soul on fire: acting. Yet, as the curtains draw back on this new chapter, I find myself confronting the reality of a slower acting scene. It’s a delicate dance, balancing the practicalities of life with the pursuit of artistic fulfilment. But within this delicate balance lies the opportunity for growth, for introspection, and for honing the resilience needed to weather the storms ahead.

The Weary Wanderer

Returning from a gruelling flight, I was met with the harsh reality of car troubles and the demanding schedule of rehearsals and film shoots. The exhaustion weighed heavy, and doubts crept in. Was this all just a series of first-world problems? Yet, amidst the fatigue, there remained a flicker of passion—a reminder of why I continue to tread this path. It’s in these moments of weariness that we must draw upon our inner reserves of strength, reminding ourselves of the purpose that propels us forward.

“Endurance is patience concentrated.”

Epictetus

In the words of the stoic philosopher Epictetus, endurance is the key to weathering life’s storms. It’s through patience and perseverance that we find the strength to overcome adversity, to endure the trials that lie ahead. And as Robert Tew aptly reminds us, the struggles we face today are shaping the strength we’ll need for tomorrow.

“The struggle you’re in today is developing the strength you need for tomorrow.”

Robert Tew

The Quiet Courage of Persistence

As I reflect on these past weeks, I’m reminded of the quiet courage found in persistence. Despite the challenges, I continue to push forward, clinging to the belief that every storm eventually gives way to calmer seas. It’s through persistence that we find the strength to navigate the quiet seas of uncertainty, to keep moving forward even when the path ahead seems uncertain.

In the silence of uncertainty, it’s easy to lose sight of the journey’s purpose. Yet, it’s in these moments of stillness that we find the strength to press on, to keep chasing our dreams against the odds. So, let us navigate these quiet seas with courage, for it is in the struggle that we find our truest selves. And as we journey onward, may we remember the words of Epictetus and Robert Tew, drawing upon their wisdom to guide us through the challenges that lie ahead.