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I got my first real six-string, bought it at the five-and-dime, played it ’til my fingers bled, was the summer of ’69. No. It wasn’t, sorry I’m not that old, but I got your attention right? It was, in fact, the summer ‘07, I’d just finished my A levels and was making the most of a (non-masked, the nostalgia) summer with friends before heading off to University. It was the first summer after I’d passed my driving test so I spent pretty much my entire life zooming around in my VW feeling like nothing could stop me. I was finally free. One sunny July day I was driving to a friends house about 40 minutes from where my parents lived, bopping along to Radio 1 as I zoomed along the M40 and then suddenly, I was parked in my friends drive. But wait. I’d only just left home? Wait. How did I get here? Wait.. …


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Just need to find a big enough chair. Photo creds: stephsocial.com

A couple of weeks ago, prior to being plunged back into the fog of another lockdown, I spent the day down at my sisters with her husband and my two little nephews to reconnect with the more wholesome aspects of life outside of the frenetic central London humdrum which invades the majority of my days (despite not having a job…)). …


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My life. A story told in stages, by mugs.

I never really planned to go into banking. To be honest, I never really planned to go into anything. Whilst my more motivated friends spent their university summers doing internships or getting work experience trying to build up their CV ready to jump straight into the working world, I was swanning off travelling or falling in love with French boys who woo-ed me with their pain au chocolats & afternoons spent wandering french villages drinking rosé. Suffice to say, I graduated with next to zero idea of what I wanted to do next. …


Coronavirus. Self Isolation. Quarantine. Panic buying. Loo roll shortages. Protein shortages. OAT MILK shortages. The world has gone crazy. London seems to have transformed into a semi-war world where solo people wander the streets, carefully managing their 2m radius from others, maybe smiling to acknowledge the awkwardness of the 2m radius but more likely just looking down to avoid any social interaction (we’re still British afterall). Three months ago, I’d just got home from South America, I was ready for 2020, to make 2020 my year, the year I finally got around to doing all the things I’d planned to do for however long and never got around to doing & then this happened. The world stopped. Life stopped. …


On a saturday evening a few months ago, at an unknown hour (am I the only person who relies entirely on their phone to tell the time?), sat cross legged facing my ‘sharing partner’ on a squidgy red cushion in a hexagon shaped room lit with tea lights and smelling like incense, I opened my mouth and muttered my first words in 2.5 days. TWO. AND. A. HALF. DAYS.

I wish I could tell you the first thing I said was something profound & meaningful. Something that a yoga teacher should say, like that I felt fully at one with my soul, or that I had seen my inner child, or that I had worked out the meaning of life or even that my chakras felt balanced or even just a long, resounding AUUUUUM (can you imagine if I had actually broken silence with an AUM..take …


I’m a pretty conventional kind of soul. Pretty much the epitome of a home counties child. Born and raised in the beautiful county of Buckinghamshire by wonderful parents as the youngest of four children. My first school was about 10 metres from my parents front door. I biked my bike around the village with friends. Ate sweets on the village green. Made up dances to Backstreet Boys songs, genuinely believing I could become a backing dancer (it was only recently that I realised I have NO RHYTHM). Went to senior school not far from Reading. Decided for a short period aged 14 to become and emo and wear ridiculously baggy jeans and chunky trainers in an effort to ‘be different’ forgetting that to be different you most definitely shouldn’t be doing exactly the same as everyone else. Drank Bacardi Breezers under a bridge in Henley-on-Thames. Did painfully well in exams despite perpetually telling the whole world that I was going to fail (closet nerd). Headed off to Bristol for Uni. Studied Chemistry (no longer so much of a closet nerd, just a nerd). Jumped straight into the ‘city’ on graduation. Spent 8 years in Investment Banking. …


Being active & busy has been part of my identity since childhood. It’s part of my DNA — both my Mum and Granny have & had absolutely zero ability to sit still. Even when my granny was 90 years old & struggling to swallow anything, surviving primarily on Gu chocolate pots & soup (she was an absolute trooper & wonderful woman, never once complaining of the monotony of her diet), you’d still find her rushing about the house trying to find anything at all to do to keep busy, laying tables, ironing already ironed clothes, baking, doing crosswords, always desperate to find something to keep occupied. As a family, we don’t do sitting still very well. On the rare occasions where we sit down to a long lunch, it’s inevitably followed by some kind of activity — a walk, a bike ride, a game in the garden. I resented this as a child, pining for the kind of family which sat and watched films together & could happily do nothing for a day — ‘why do we always have to be dooooing something, can’t we just sit & be & eat quality street like other families?’ I’d whine. As I’ve got older, however, despite desperately trying not to, I have indeed morphed into a hybrid of my Mum & Granny — unlike for many, the idea of sitting around at home watching Netflix all day fills me with dread/claustrophobia/cabin fever which I’d do anything to escape. …


Last year I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to take three months out of work. Three months to shift down a few gears, go and see the world, connect with new people, drink a few pisco sours & eat a whole load of ceviche.

Those three months provided me with some of the most mind blowing, life changing, paradigm shifting experiences I’ve ever had. I spent my days working on projects I loved, visiting inspiring places, learning new things & having deep, open conversations with wonderful souls who made me feel (for the first time in a long time) so full of life & love and excitement for the future. When the time came to (tearfully) say goodbye to my newly formed f(r)amily it felt to me that life could never really be the same again. …


Last year I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to take three months out of work. Three months to shift down a few gears, go and see the world, connect with new people, drink a few pisco sours & eat a whole load of ceviche.

Those three months provided me with some of the most mind blowing, life changing, paradigm shifting experiences I’ve ever had. I spent my days working on projects I loved, visiting inspiring places, learning new things & having deep, open conversations with wonderful souls who made me feel (for the first time in a long time) so full of life & love and excitement for the future. When the time came to (tearfully) say goodbye to my newly formed f(r)amily it felt to me that life could never really be the same again. …

Lucy Puttergill

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