“I don’t liiike it!” I wailed into the oncoming blast of wind.

My winter coat flew open up to the waist and my hair whipped my face punishingly as the gust blew in off the Mersey, flew around the dock and ricocheted off the ornate grade I and II* buildings lining the pier.

“Oh don’t be such a girl,” he retorted, shoving his hands further into his pockets and laughing at my pathetic squealing.

I seized the opportunity to prey on his affection, linking my arm through his and nestling my body against his side for warmth. He looked down at my watering eyes and bright red freezing cheeks as he squeezed my arm and pulled me in a little closer to him. Despite the perishing baltic blast playing havoc with my internal barometer I felt a glow of warmth spread through my body and realised that this was exactly what I needed; to be told to man up in the real world.

January has been a punishing month, filled with wonderful opportunities and exciting events. At times I’ve felt like a resident of the M4 corridor, having been in London every week for the past 3 weeks. I’ve felt overwhelmed by an overflowing inbox and battled (and failed) to find time to write in addition to running a business. I’ve lamented, moaned and berated myself for not being more productive and for needing to sleep (A LOT) to catch up on myself. I’ve been inspired without feeling creative and I’ve looked longingly for my muse to come back.

As I strolled around Liverpool with my husband during our luxurious one day of holiday last week I felt my soul being reinvigorated. I love being married to a quiet man who is a physical manifestation of my conscience, giving me the time to salve my exhaustion by gently thinking things through, putting together a plan to go forward and coming out of the other side feeling rejuvenated.

As we sat in comfortable silence whilst sharing a drink and watching the world go by on the Albert Dock, I found myself mesmerised by the seagulls swooping across the bright blue sky. Dramatic clouds rolled in off the river behind them but they remained oblivious, focusing only on whatever had caught their attention and then performing kamikaze stunts to obtain it. I wished I could experience that same feeling of freedom and concentrate that hard on my goals.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked me, concerned that this chatterbox hadn’t spoken in quite some time.

The seagull swooped and disappeared behind the industrial buildings just as a blinding ray of light sliced through the clouds.

“Oh nothing much,” I replied and realised that by sitting in a bar on a Wednesday afternoon with my favourite person next to me, I was already free. And that all the pressure I had poured on myself to Get Things Done meant that I too had some pretty kamikaze tricks to obtain my goals, all I needed to do was blow away the cobwebs to realise just how bright the future looks.