Last Sunday morning a friend and I headed out for a walk in the sunshine under an azure sky. Her dog, Molly,  joined us. How "right" it felt to be walking a dog again. I miss my two every day.

Molly is ever so slightly on the round side and extremely well-behaved. Much like me really – except for the extremely well-behaved part.

As my friend and I walked, we talked about life, love, men, women, relationships. That age-old question: What's it all about? And, of course, ourselves. We formed a strong Mutual Admiration Society that morning to the comforting peal of church bells and Molly's toe nails (in need of a trim) clickity clacking on the pavement.

If only we could be as kind, compassionate and loving to ourselves as we are towards others, I voiced to my friend. She agreed unequivocally.

Why do we beat ourselves up so often? Mantra's are formed, stories crafted, out of nothing concrete and become our reality, what we believe. There are enough others out there being less than positive about us without adding our negative self-talk into the mix.

A pact was sealed right there and then as we briskly turned the corner on the homeward run. We decided to change our mantras and our stories and adopt the great ones we had lovingly offered each other. 

On that blue and yellow day, walking along with Molly, it seemed so simple. Easy as flicking a switch. But someone, we wailed, has taped our switches down! Probably us. We shook away our inner naysayers and determined to take a leaf out of Molly's book – happy in the moment, on the end of her blue lead, thinking about nothing past the end of her cute nose. No complications, angst or fears – simply placing one little foot in front of the other and enjoying the sun.

Anyone got a couple of spare leads?