**Monday, 12th February**
Sometimes I let my mind wanderwhat if things were different?
Imagine London, a city where no one goes unseen. Where the cleaners name, like Sarah Thompsons, is known just as well as the managing directors. Where a persons value isnt counted in pounds, but in the warmth they share.
Picture a country where boardrooms dont open with *Whats the bottom line?* but *Who will this help?* Where breakthroughs arent hurried out for quarterly gains but given time, like a proper cuppa steeping, because their aim is to mend, to guide, to raise up.
Imagine schools in Manchester where children matter not for their test scores but because every young mind holds a tale worth hearing. Surgeries in Birmingham where patients arent case files but peoplenames like Emily Carter or James Whitmorewith hopes still ticking onward. Offices where weekends mean roast dinners and footie with the family, not overtime.
What if the wealthiest werent those with portfolios in Mayfair but those who opened doors for others? What if the real exchange wasnt the City but the quiet kindness passed between commuters on the Tube?
Imagine Whitehall tracking success not in GDP but in laughter, in every child reading well, in fewer lonely souls. Neighbours in Liverpool not keeping up with the Joneses but seeing who can lend the steadiest hand.
And imagine youin that worldnot racing, not worrying, not tallying just being, properly, because youre enough as you are.
Imagine. Then roll up your sleeves.
