Remember how to say sorry to your parents

As children we learn to apologise for our wrong doings to make peace, to get what we want and/or because we are really very sorry but as we get older we become more and more convinced of our own knowledge, abilities and correctness over others that we get a bit cocky don't we? Especially to our parents. And so even in instances where we ARE wrong and we KNOW it, we fail to apologise for our actions. Let’s not even get into our wrong (or at least not so nice) thoughts about others or their actions. But in reality, there is nothing more humbling than genuine words of sorry, and asking for forgiveness that makes you realise how much it let’s you really connect with others. And why particularly your parents? Because they’re likely the people you know the best and for the longest time because growing up you've tested them the most with your grief, and their despair and worry, so most positive and negative aspects of your life are likely be wrapped around your relationship with your parents, and therefore it's probably brimming with unsaid as well as very loudly said issues. Hitting on the biggest nail first makes the others easier, and we all owe it to our parents. Perhaps you don’t even have to do anything dreadful to say sorry-whether you snapped at your mum in a moment of weakness; whether there is a long held back apology due for genuinely not knowing any better, which you hope they know you're sorry for but have never actually said.  If you are truly sorry for anything the rightful owner of that apology probably feels it and thinks about it too. And if they’ve forgotten about it, there’s nothing nicer than hearing someone say sorry because it is harder than saying ‘thank you’ and means more And when you learn to say sorry to your parents, learn to say it to your friends, colleagues, staff, children even-I promise it's much easier than saying it to your parents.

All this will let you prevent (or undo, depending on the colour of one's soul:) the building up of long term guilt for not being able to verbalise all your 'sorry's, especially to people who you care about, which is a regretful thing because carrying around that non-specific but still all consuming cloud of emotion can make you resentful, towards the very people you can, and should, say sorry to. And I'm sure there's a pretty sizable bag that we all carry around. Internalising various thoughts and feeling, be it positive or negative, as I found out recently, is not healthy (and the reasons for it is a whole other topic on passive aggressiveness, which I will cover at another point). And how did I finally 'realise' this? By doing the opposite of internalising-by opening myself up to the feelings I avoided, the confrontations I shied away from, the straight looks in their eyes I feared. This exposure that I thought was frightening actually makes you so light and free and bouncy it's almost heartbreaking. Why heartbreaking? Because you suddenly realise what you’ve been missing out on by holding onto that resentment. By letting yourself open up, being brave and facing things head on, with a lot of effort ofcourse, I feel very simply happy. I will not quote something Zen or zeitgeisty like ‘the truth will set you free’ as we’ve (mostly) all grown up with and are tired of these soundbites that will supposedly solve our problems, but I will say that consequently this happiness allows me to feel more and be open to myself. 

This is important discovery for me because I can now deal with one of many issues in my life by looking at it with new eyes and a happy heart. To expand, people today are so overwhelmingly occupied with friends, family, work, hobbies and projects (it's fair to say we all personally know people who are juggling hard and fast) that it is often assumed the best way to deal with them is to compartmentalise in order to prevent yourself from going mad from the ever growing number of things to deal with, roles to embody and emotions to restrain. I like to think that I’ve had good practice at this compartmentalising thing as soon as I ventured out into the world of ‘grown-up’ after moving to Mongolia, because I’ve always been one to take on another project, another idea, another interest. And as much as I enjoyed them all, looking back perhaps it was more the satisfaction one gets from getting things done and acquiring ticks on my to-do list more than genuine fondness. Maybe this is why more and more of my 'things’ felt like burdens, items to avoid, and eventually resentment for taking my efforts and energy away from what is important. 

So, by learning and knowing how to say sorry, and consequently discovering how to be happier, I'm beginning to realise, just shy of turning 30, perhaps I need to let my heart permeate through every one of the compartments in my life that I want to keep. Not bad for a little soul digging. And now I feel like I've come a little bit closer to understanding for myself some of the things that were shouted at my generation from songs, books, magazines and TV. Somethings AREN’T better left unsaid, unless they’re unkind words. Because sorry seems to be the hardest word. It’s never too late to apologise.

*Sorry for the cheesy roundup of quotes.

The EU Referendum is more than about remaining or leaving

I came to the UK for the first time when I was nine years old with my mum and younger brother. By the time we had settled in Tony Blair and his newly elected Labour party was in government and it was a time of great opportunities. At the time I was far from understanding the significance of this change in British politics or the policies that shaped millions of people's lives in the consequent years to come. My brother and I, with absolutely zero English at the time, were just trying to figure out how to fit in at school and my mum working two jobs whilst taking English as a Second Language (ESL) course. You see, at the time a foreigner was able to enter the UK on a student visa and bring along dependent children, and at the same time work to support themselves. The economics of such a situation today will not obviously hold up because housing prices, living costs and general availability of resources is set so high against the economic migrant. The 'burden' is too great.

Nevertheless, despite my mum working non-stop, us moving around constantly and changing schools, we slowly became engaged and immersed in British life and adopted the culture, the history, the politics and the life that was available for us then. 

Yes, I didn't know what custard was, or know why children called their grandmother 'nan', or why lunch was called 'dinner.' Not knowing the language meant there was initially a huge barrier for me to understand these everyday simple things until much later, and by then I had grown a sense of  wariness about asking about such obvious things that British children would normally grow up with at home. Even though my mum had said our English was improving much faster than her's all three of us didn't know any better. There was a sense of pride in me but also a fear that I will be found out as a phoney so there was always, still to this day, a strong willingness to teach myself and learn everything I possibly could myself as a way of 'catching-up'. 

Outside of formal education system (which was tough to begin with but Wherever we lived our local library (Paddington especially comes to mind) was our haven, where we'd spend weekends reading and then checking out the maximum number of books, which was 15 then. So much of our childhood is wrapped up in time spent at Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens roller skating, feeding ducks, running around in the playgrounds. Another time, we lived near Fulham Broadway and our local swimming pool and sports centre was a mandatory weekly visit where we paid a pound to swim all day in the massive splash pool with whirlpools and giants slides! And later, as I got older I roamed around the (free!) art galleries and museums of London, stripped off any pretension or studies in 'important' art work to know any better but to just enjoy everything I see. I spent days walking around Ladbroke Grove, Portobello and Notting Hill-not understanding that the area was one of the best places (then) to experience different cultures, aesthetics, food and music. I never took for granted the that fact that we were able to move to this weird and wonderful country that gave us such a huge array of opportunities, which gave the foundations of the lives we are able to build for ourselves today, and will continue to shape us, and even our children into the future.

And this is why I'm writing this very extended piece. Today I see the immigration issue in the UK through the eyes of someone who was an immigrant, and who has benefited in immeasurable amounts from having started my life here. I see young families from various Eastern European countries at the park, in the swimming pools, at the school gates and in supermarkets, and it looks really familiar to me. That subtle appreciation for life and what it offers them. I realise that many people have fallen through the cracks of immigration policy in the UK and many married couples have been failed by attempts at controlling immigration. The current system is far from perfect. And so is the governing framework of the EU. But I think it will be such a shame if thousands of families are denied a chance to immigrate to the UK and start a life that would offer so much opportunities.

And as much as there are larger macro economic issues to consider and ways of tackling them, I hope with all my heart that at least with respect to the immigration issue, the people of the UK extend their borders and hearts even more so than ever for people across Europe. Because there will be many children of such immigrants in 20 years time with a lot to be grateful for, just like me.