Gloriously Ordinary Sundays - 30th August 2026
Hello, and I hope you’ve all had a Gloriously Ordinary summer. Gloriously Ordinary Sundays have taken a bit of an impromptu break, but it’s all back to school now. Hope you’ve got your new pencil case.
I really do hope you’ve had a lovely summer, but I know many of you won’t have. But even if it hasn’t been lovely, it might have been Gloriously Ordinary. Bear with me.
I’ve been prompted by a couple of conversations with people over the summer to unpick the idea that Gloriously Ordinary Lives really does include all of us experiencing properly rubbish stuff. I was sad and furious and resentful and shouted at the universe A LOT when John died, but that’s the universe – it throws tough stuff at us sometimes. It wasn’t human failure, just one of those (awful) things.
Stuff we don’t understand and absolutely don’t want to happen.
Stuff that makes us ill.
Stuff that makes us really sad.
Stuff that makes people we love die.
But that is all still Gloriously Ordinary. It might sound odd to say it, but it is.
Earlier in the month, The Girl was 27. For the last seven years she has found birthdays tough. We have to plan carefully with her just how much of a birthday she wants to have. Cards? Presents? Balloons? Cake? Who she wants to see or hear from. It’s a bit eggshells, if I’m honest.
On the morning of her birthday, she hurt herself quite badly and at the last minute couldn’t get her head around seeing me. I was devastated.
Let’s think about a different scenario. It’s her twenty-seventh birthday, and she’s got a day packed with seeing friends, partying and enjoying life. She just can’t fit me in, and we agree to catch up later in the week.
That second scenario is definitely Gloriously Ordinary – our kids grow up, and not seeing a 27-year-old on their birthday is very ordinary, no matter how rejected we feel as parents.
The first scenario is not Gloriously Ordinary because the reason she didn’t/couldn’t see me (or other people she loves) is that we are failing to really understand how and why she is hurting so badly that she needs to shut the world out. We don’t understand why she hurts herself, and we have not managed to help her understand and find ways to cope. She’s not choosing not to see me and the other people she loves; she just can’t get her head around it. That’s a big problem, and it’s our problem, and the problem and responsibility of all the people who support her.
My summer has included continuing to sort out the messiness that was John Nicoll’s life and all that hideousness when someone dies, and I’ve been perfecting my grieving too. That’s been tough …and Gloriously Ordinary.
Not so Glorious or Ordinary is the fact that Greek police appear to have lost his keys, phone and wallet, and between the lovely Consulate and the wonderful repatriation service, no one can seem to figure out what to do. And BOY am I frustrated.
That’s the difference. One is just life; the other is humans not getting something right – intentionally or by omission.
And (this might be controversial) I think that we all have the right to experience the full range of the Universe. I don’t think that Gloriously Ordinary Lives is about a sanitised version that somehow protects us.
I think a helpful way of thinking about Gloriously Ordinary Lives is to unpick the role that whatever part of the system we are part of is playing in someone’s life.
Is the person’s life difficult, less than ideal or not fantastic at the moment because that’s the messiness of life? That’s the universe? That’s the stuff that we all have the right to experience as human beings.
Or is it difficult, not working well, not fun because of something that Serviceland is contributing to?
The first doesn’t belong to us; the second possibly does.
Hope that first week back to school is Gloriously Ordinary in all its messiness.
PS. Did you see? The Gloriously Ordinary Sundays Podcast episode 15 is here. I indulge myself a little bit with some nostalgia, going back to the time when my two were at school and reflecting on what great inclusion looked and felt like to us as a family. I'll share some lovely memories of The Girl's experience, and you'll hear Ciaran talking about his own memories. Have a listen, and we'd love to hear what you think!