I’ve lost my mojo.

I’ve spent the past few days searching everywhere I can think of, but it’s nowhere to be found. I suppose when some of your last blog posts are called Unravelling, Survive, and Alone, it’s inevitable that the next one in the sequence will be about lost mojos.

Maybe I need to retrace my steps?

Or maybe I need to start right back at the beginning?

Back to the little girl and her big sister going up the two grey concrete steps that led into the dark, dusty and very brown shop on the corner, to buy Mojos. The little girl’s favourites were the spearmint-flavoured chews. Her Mum would wait outside the shop with the big coach-built pram that held the little sister (or two, I can’t remember), while the two big girls would choose and pay for the sweeties all by themselves. Once outside in the sunshine, the little girl would slowly unwrap each chewy delight and savour not only the taste but also the feeling of being so grown up she could go into a shop and buy sweets without her Mummy.

Where are they now?

Where is my mojo?

Is it time to start delving deep into my past to find it?