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Mince Pie Brownies & ‘Jolabokaflod’. Your 2024 Festive Traditions.

‘Crush leftover mince pies & stir into brownies before cooking,’ I read in a magazine I found on the train today. 

It’s mid November. 

Another page mentioned M & S selling mince pies with chocolate brownie filling… 

This must be a new trend for 2024, chocolate brownies mingling with mince pies.

Some homes already have Christmas decorations up, with shiny baubles and rows of twinkling lights peeking out from curtains to brighten the view as you walk past.

My friend begins early, and this weekend will festoon the house with tinsel & garlands, covering everywhere with sparkly stuff and more lights than there are stars in the Milky Way. It is deliciously over the top.

It’s dark before 5 p.m in the U.K., and her family will be welcomed home by a ‘round of applause’ in fairy light form! My favourite are the brussels sprout ones…

Even Scrooge would smile at them.

They’ll have baubles made by lost generations of the family, clinking next to trinkets from a Disneyland trip last year. Many happy memories on display, for a family that has also known much sadness over recent years.

Some people are critical of anyone who starts early for Christmas, but isn’t it just seeking the light in a time of darkness, in many ways?

And who cares what style gurus think, just follow your heart and continue any festive traditions your family enjoys, or none at all. Perhaps just notice and appreciate seeing more brightly coloured lights from windows on your street, and the good intentions behind them.

I love the Icelandic tradition of ‘Jolabokaflod’, meaning a Christmas Book Flood. The giving and receiving of books on Christmas Eve, and reading them together. That sounds calm and cosy. 

Just don’t smudge your book with sticky fingerprints from the brownie mince pies… warmed in the air fryer this year, of course!

For a cosy gathering before then, I’m running December Mindfulness & Writing Zooms. It’s a mellow way to begin a busy month. We play with ideas & prompts, following our curiosity rather than aiming for perfection. Always with a lightness of heart and a ready sense of humour. Often with cups of tea.

There’s never any pressure to share anything you write, but it’s lovely when someone chooses to. We wind down each session with a chill out meditation, to relax & restore, leaving you with a sense of calm & comfort. Well, that’s my intention. 

Last dates for 2024 are Sunday 1st December 10.30am – 12 p.m. (UK time), and Monday 2nd December 7pm – 8.30pm (UK time)

There’s a warm welcome, in a friendly group. Whether you’re already a regular, or someone who dips in and out when other commitments allow, or if you’re reading this and have never tried a session before, contact me from the website to find out more.

I wish you the best for the coming weeks and hope you find plenty of light and cosy warmth amid the darkness & chill of Winter. There’s a light snow forecast for parts of the U.K. next week, so if you’re reading this in Australia, enjoy the sunshine, while we’ll have our thermal vests on, as you get the ice lollies out…

Brownie picture thanks to Fotoweedio at Unsplash

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The antidote to Fear is Curiosity and there’s an added bonus when it’s a Fear of Flying.

Like most of us, I have the odd wobble before getting into a big metal bird that lifts me above the clouds in flight.

Something our distant ancestors would not believe was possible. So it’s O.K. to be apprehensive in an airport. 

Being Curious is the best cure for fear.

I tried it last week by watching and listening to other passengers at 4 a.m. in Birmingham Airport. We were all a bit tired, stifling yawns and smoothing down dishevelled ‘bed hair’ as we queued.

Heading off to Spain for a dose of Autumn sunshine, we were among people of all ages. Some family groups with three generations holidaying together. You could sense the excitement as a lively toddler clutched a luminous green cuddly teddy and their Grandma’s hand. Both equally precious.

There was a senior gentleman on his own who told me this was his first holiday since his wife had died. He was nervous but hoped that she’d be proud that he was doing as she wished. We made sure he found the right departure gate in time and waved him off.

Two women clinked wine glasses in celebration of leaving hospital worries behind for a week, with a jubilant toast, ‘F**k Cancer!’

A shy young couple carefully unwrapped foil parcels of what looked like cheese sandwiches, as they shared a set of ear buds for their holiday soundtrack. 

There were staff with immaculate hair and makeup who worked the night shift with professionalism and warmth, greeting us passengers with genuine smiles.

I felt my heart expand at these tender stories surrounding me. 

“In the end we all become stories” wrote Margaret Atwood, and I find myself wondering about all these people and what their lives might be like. 

Many struggling and coping with the major life challenges and losses that we all face at times, but hoping for a break to explore this planet and perhaps gain a wider perspective on their worries.

I get soppier with age, and as a Funeral Celebrant, I often witness great courage in the families I look after. 

If you watch the news regularly, you’ll be appalled at the worst of humanity. But watching each other stumbling along and doing our best in the airport, you can glimpse hope in our vulnerabilities.

If you have a deep seated fear of flying, perhaps you gaze at your fellow passengers and wonder if these are the last people you’ll see on earth? Which adds a layer of connection to a group of strangers you’re about to share a flight with.

Sitting on the plane before take off, there’s a warm feeling of tenderness for each of the people I’ve noticed and their stories. 

An added bonus and it has taken the edge off any fear of flying. Instead I’m humbled by how us imperfect humans are each just doing our best, hopefully helping each other and being kind. None of us know if we’ll be able to fly again.

Also I packed my favourite chocolate. 

That’s the other antidote to fear.

Curiosity and Chocolate, together they work wonders. 

Photo thanks to Hanson Lu at Unsplash.

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Hello ‘Imposter Syndrome’, my old friend…

There’s a beautiful question to ask yourself regularly, ‘Will this experience enrich or shrink my life?’

I was busy writing a service a few weeks ago, when the phone rang. It was an amazing professional invitation, and completely unexpected. 

I nearly turned it down. 

Why did I consider saying no, when invited to deliver the Keynote speech at the annual AOIC Celebrant Conference?

Partly because I’d forgotten the beautiful question.

And because I still have ‘Imposter Syndrome.’

I imagine that everyone else knows more than me. Or is better than me. Or more confident. That I’m just not as good as everyone else.

Do you know this feeling? It’s very common, practically contagious…

For some of us, it’s how we were brought up. Or maybe it began in school, or at work. Or in your relationships later in life.

Experiencing the foster care system as a child, I’ve got proof that I’m not as good as most people. I was rejected by several families before I was even a year old. I wasn’t good enough for them, and that never leaves you.

You probably have your own reasons for ‘Imposter syndrome.’

But sometimes, we need to have a little conversation with ourselves. The way we might give a friend a pep talk, when they need their confidence boosting.

Remind yourself that you are a good person. You might be a loving parent, a loyal and caring best friend, and a professional with years of experience and knowledge to share with others.

Consider that it might be rude to say no to the next invitation to step outside your comfort zone. If you need a gentle nudge, sometimes you have to provide it for yourself.

It’s O.K. if you don’t know everything. Only someone with an enlarged sense of their own importance might think that they know absolutely everything. (Several politicians spring to mind…)

But it’s good to pass on the knowledge, skills and understanding that life has taught you.That’s what we’re here for, to give our best away, and hope that it helps someone else.

I’m honoured that AOIC invited me to deliver the Keynote speech. (That sounds so grown up, just typing it!) They asked me to share my Celebrant experience from recent years, along with the communication and presentation skills I learned from decades in radio.

They also asked me to run a writing workshop at the conference. I’ve loved running these creative sessions for over 15 years, so I can help support this side of Celebrant work.

I look forward to meeting new and established Celebrants, where we’ll all share our experiences. I’ll learn as much in conversations over coffee and lunch, as I will in official sessions.

None of us knows everything, but those of us who strive for excellence in our professional practice will be keen to listen as much as we speak. Together we’ll help each other. 

And there should be cake…

Since I nervously said yes to the invitation, I’ve made notes on so many things to share at the conference, I could probably speak for 24 hrs straight! Not that anyone would want that…

Next time you receive an invitation, why not challenge your inner ‘Imposter Syndrome’, to be of service to others. If you have a human wobble of confidence, it’s probably a good sign that you’re not an egomaniac.

Don’t forget that beautiful question.“Will this experience enrich or diminish my life?” It’s useful for so many decisions. Like volunteering for something – yes, it probably will enrich your life. 

There may also be cake.

Thanks to Ananth Pai at Unsplash for delicious looking cake photo.

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Did you know this amazing thing about dogs?

It feels good to be able to help someone else, especially when you get to sit down and relax while doing the helping bit. Afterwards they give you chocolate biscuits and tell you to chill out for the evening.

Brilliant!

After donating blood at the weekend, I noticed a leaflet tucked behind the stash of treats they offer us. Fascinating to learn about a Pet Blood Bank charity that invites dogs to donate blood, to help other animals.

It says that dogs will get a tummy rub as they donate, something they have yet to offer humans… but maybe in the future!

Dogs will even get a goody bag, which will make them feel like they’ve been to a Birthday party…

Just like humans, dogs have different blood types, and one type ‘DEA negative’ is always in demand for emergencies. A bit like with humans, where it’s 0 negative.

That’s my blood type, which means I keep up my regular donations as soon as I’m eligible, earning free Club biscuits & KitKats every 4 months.

A few days after donating, they send a message to let me know which hospital, and sometimes which department has received my blood, ready for use.

Last time it was sent to Great Ormond St. It’s like a ‘Thank you’ note’ for me sitting down for a bit. The easiest way to help, I reckon! You probably know someone who is alive today because they received a blood transfusion, and perhaps your family pet has also had that little miracle.

I took a few photos of the leaflet, you’ll see below, if you’d like to know more about the Pet Blood Bank.

Meantime, with all the difficult things going on in the world each day, isn’t it good to be able to do a tiny thing to help. Whether you get a KitKat or a tummy rub…

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How to be less of a ‘sweaty beetroot’ in the heat, and feel as cool as a cucumber…

Another sweltering hot day in the Midlands. Some people are cool, calm & collected…

Some of us turn into a radish on legs, at anything above 21c. Today it’s been 29c, and I have definitely been part beetroot/part human!

Working as a Celebrant for the last few years, means sometimes working outdoors. I’ve learned a few tips that might help you avoid looking like any bright red fruit or vegetable. Instead let’s shuffle towards being cool as a cucumber.

So what helps?

*If we’re aiming to be more cucumber than radish, let’s start with cucumber itself. Add a few slices to your water bottle. Tuck a few sprigs of mint in there as well, or maybe a lemon slice, and chill it in the fridge overnight. It’s cheap, delicious and genuinely feels cooling to drink. 

Also someone will ask you why you have half the garden in your water bottle… then you can pass the tip along.

*More water. Use an old spray bottle, filled with tap water and a little rose water. You’ll find cheap rose water in many grocery stores, and it lasts for ages. Liberally spritz yourself all over with this home made spray, under and over your clothes, several times a day if you’re working outdoors. It’s so refreshing and helps you to cool down.

*Soak a thin cotton scarf in cold water, and drape it around the back of your neck. I then cover this with a larger patterned scarf that looks smart for a service, whilst concealing my boy scout technique for cooling the body’s core. As I type this, I have one on… blissfully cool.

*Those gel headache strips are a great thing to have just in case. When it’s truly sweltering in a 38c forecast, I stick a couple of these on my back, hidden by smart dresses. They definitely keep you a little cooler for a few hours. But keep an eye on where exactly they are, as they can move around – I’ve often been asked why I’ve got a blue rectangle stuck to my leg! 

*Finally, it’s always a good idea to have a clean handkerchief tucked somewhere, to discretely dab away the ‘sweat moustache’ that may appear when you really don’t want it to!

*Oh, and if you’re working from home, put cold water in a bowl and stick your feet in it. Deliciously cooling, and just blame any splashing sounds on ‘the mermaids’ to baffle your colleagues…

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Don’t Know Mind, forget everything you think you know…

The older we get, it’s easy to think we know it all. Or that we know more about most things.

These wrinkles are proof of my learning and wisdom, surely?

But sometimes it’s best to practice ‘Don’t Know Mind’, or ‘Beginner’s Mind’.

It’s refreshing, and it might be the best way to really see or hear what’s right in front of you. To drop everything you think you already know, and to be open to a situation. As if it’s for the first time.

To see the one you’ve loved for decades, standing here in the kitchen, as they make toast. To experience it as it truly is in this moment, bathed in rare afternoon sunlight that highlights their silver beard.

Or to notice the way your teenager guides you through a new mobile phone layout, with a confident swagger that’s new this Summer.

Or to marvel at how calmly your dog negotiates a noisy group in a cafe, despite the reactive behaviour the shelter warned you about, when you first rescued them.

Don’t Know Mind allows a tiny gap for wonder, or appreciation.

It’s also an incredibly powerful thing to help you really listen to someone, and what they’re actually telling you. It might also help you to pick up on what they’re not telling you.

As a Celebrant, I practice ‘Don’t Know Mind’ every time I meet a new couple or family. Before I knock on their door, for our first meeting, I consciously drop everything I think I know about the perfect Wedding, or Funeral. I let go of any expectations that I may have, of what they will need from me or the service I’m taking for them.

I am passionate about my work in this profession and have the reassurance of several years caring for hundreds of families, and creating beautiful ceremonies for them. 

But before I meet someone new, I put that to one side, and prepare to listen openly, with my full attention.

It’s important for me to understand everything I can about the life stories and Love Stories of everyone I meet. 

Whether I’m crafting a Wedding to celebrate a deep and abiding love, or preparing a funeral to truly honour all that a person has meant to their loved ones; each story is different.

Working like this enables me to listen deeply to the details that matter, to understand how best I can help and support the amazing human beings who are trusting me with this most important ritual in their lives.

Then I can offer my best work, drawing on the many things I do know, and all the experiences I have. Including those life stories of my own, that have earned my wrinkles… 

But I’m responding to what is needed in each individual case. I never assume I already know what is best for any couple or family.

It’s been a huge privilege to work as a Celebrant in recent years, and I continue to hone and polish my craft with each family that I care for. and learn from. That always begins with ‘Don’t Know Mind’. 

Try it for yourself, at home or at work, or if you’re watching the England Football game tonight. Just because the last game was a bit dull, don’t assume it will be the same tonight. They might be spectacular! 

Jude Bellingham could make our hearts full of joy… Let’s practice ‘Beginner’s Mind’, and watch the game as if it was the first time we’d ever seen a football game. Although that might make the Offside rule even trickier to understand…

(*Frank Ostaseski is a wonderful teacher and writer, whose book ‘The Five Invitations’ I reread every year. One of the Invitations focuses on ‘Don’t Know Mind’, so you can read more about this idea in his compassionate, wise words.)

Photo thanks to Ádám Berkecz on Unsplash

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New Year things & being made from 30% cheese…

January Greetings. I hope this finds you well, as we begin another orbit around the sun.

I couldn’t sleep, so was wide awake at 6am, reading in bed. I opened the curtains at 7.30am and marvelled at how light it was, as the Winter sun hadn’t risen before 8 all week.

I decided this was a good sign for the first morning of 2024 – more light. I walked into the kitchen, and it was still pitch dark outside and I wondered why was it so light in the bedroom? 

Because I’d left the reading lamp switched on, that’s why! My tiny brain had forgotten this…

Years ago, I’d scribble a giant list of New Year Resolutions, determined that this year I would finally tidy my flat, get all the piles of paper organised and filed correctly. I’d do a yoga video each morning and never eat chocolate again. You can tell by the word Video, that this habit goes back decades…

The usual rigid self improvement stuff that we expect will transform us on the strike of midnight.

Over the years, we grow older and a hopefully tiny bit wiser. Kinder to others and to ourselves, and perhaps more realistic. I’m now gentler with my own shortcomings, more accepting of reality.

I’m a slightly disorganised, extra tall human who is just doing her best. Phew. Perhaps the same for you? 

Although you may not have been called ‘giraffe’ at school…

Most of us are just doing our best, and sometimes we’ve got way too much to deal with, for any of this self improvement lark. 

So give yourself a break from that pressure this New Year.

Instead of a long list of rigid new rules, just choose one simple thing that you do each day, and aim to really pay attention when you’re doing it. Something small that you already do, like drinking a morning cup of tea. Or cleaning your teeth. Or the washing up. 

Then when you perform this daily task, gently bring your full attention to it. Use all your senses to notice what that actually feels like today, in this moment. It might be different tomorrow. 

Appreciate the warmth of the mug on cold hands, the aroma as tea brews, the shape of the bag bobbing around, the soothing of morning tastebuds as you sip, and the nourishing feeling of a good cup of tea. 

When we pay attention with all our senses engaged, it heightens pleasure and it tastes better.

If you do that, you’ll bring yourself into the freshness of a moment, without the baggage of everything else that can weigh you down. It’s simple, but not aways easy. 

We’re used to endless thoughts & worries swishing around our mind, like scrambled eggs in a washing machine. By focusing attention, we turn down the volume on the worries for a welcome respite.

Try it, and see what it’s like.

Drinking a morning cup of tea can be a cherished ritual when we drink it like this, and we can chill out in a precious few moments of peace. 

Immersing ourselves in a simple activity can become an act of mindfulness. Just one tiny thing. That’s all. Easier than forcing yourself to sit cross legged in silent meditation for hours, frustrated that you’re not in a Zen like state.

Instead of giving up chocolate, we could choose to relish the melting flavours of a few squares of dark chocolate. That can be more satisfying than wolfing down half a tin of Quality Street while watching Netflix. I’ve tried both, so trust me on this…

Another thing you could try, is to join a monthly Mindfulness & Writing Zoom. Whether you’ve always wanted to write something, but never find the time; or if you’re just keen to explore life, the universe and everything just a little more in 2024, without having to leave the sofa!

Each month’s session is unique mix of creative bursts of inspiration, where we explore new ideas, and follow our first thoughts with curiosity, never judgment.

Giggling is encouraged, as we take our practice lightly, and you’ll find a warm welcome from our regulars, in a small friendly group.

No experience of Writing or Mindfulness is needed, just bring yourself and a pen and paper. And perhaps a cup of tea, as we’ve been focusing on tea today…

Beginners bring their cherished Superpower of ‘Beginner’s Mind’, there’s no hierarchy, and never any pressure to share the words you write in a session. Although it’s always a privilege when someone does read their freshly squeezed words, and we appreciate them.

Each session is for 90 minutes and we close with a relaxing and restoring meditation.

‘Like a Lamp, Ladder and Lighthouse’ is how one writer described the benefits of our Zooms, one said they felt ‘nourished’, and ‘part of a special community of friends’. Another said, ‘I’m amazed at how much I write in just 5 minutes & I’m loving writing again.’

We relish the pleasure of making marks on the page, as you find your own voice, with the confidence to write. You’ll be in awe of your own thoughts & ideas that tumble onto the page.

So I hope you can join us and enjoy discovering your own natural creativity, and practice some Mindfulness techniques that help in daily life, along with a sense of light and hope. Each month we’ll also explore a couple of brilliant poems to seed new ideas for your own response.

To find out more about sessions, just message me via the Contact page on the website. There’s one on Sunday January 14th at 10.30am, and one on Monday January 15th at 7pm. (UK time)

Well that’s enough typing words for New Year’s Day. I’ll wish you all the best for 2024, with a few leftover festive treats in the fridge. I’m now made from 23% carbon, 30% cheese and the rest is definitely chocolate…

I’ll leave you with the wonderful poet Nikita Gill’s words, you might like to write your own response based on your festive feasts:

“We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls, and nitrogen in our brains. 93 percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have people names.”

I’ll just squeeze in a picture of cheese. I’ve never tried it with pomegranate though…

Photo by Aliona Gumeniuk on Unsplash

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Just enough time for this…

There’s just enough time to squeeze in a quick Thank You note for 2023. You can just ‘think it through’ while sorting the washing, like an imaginary Post-it note to the world. Or a WhatsApp voice note, or a TikTok video, if that’s your thing.

Many of us have had our share of messy, complicated and difficult times this year; such is life. Some of us dealt with unwanted change, uncertainty or loss, and are still fumbling around trying to figure out how to carry on each day. 

But just for a moment, alongside all that, we can pause to focus our attention on a few small comforts that we are grateful for this year. Like watching Ryan Reynolds in ‘Welcome to Wrexham’…

Or the support and kindness of family and friends. Perhaps the nurse who held your hand at the hospital appointment, when your world changed forever. Or the work colleague who knows how to make you giggle in a dull meeting.

Maybe the loyalty of a pet, who still loves you, when it seems the rest of the world has forgotten how. Or time spent pottering in the garden with your hands in the earth, while your heart absorbed whatever slings and arrows of fortune 2023 hurled your way.

I hope that as you look back on the year, there are some highlights to cherish. Like sea swimming in Wales, while silently swearing at the ridiculously cold water… before a flask of hot chocolate warms you up on the beach.

Can you think of 3 things to say Thank You for from this year? Maybe fabulous things like falling in love with someone, starting a new job, or welcoming a rescue cat, with symphonies of contented purrs from your family and the cat!

Tiny things count, like that puppy in the park, whose tail wags like a metronome of happiness. Or standing barefoot outside my Mother-in-law’s kitchen, gazing up at a huge moon after a day of proper Manchester rain. Endless little Thank You’s line up for your attention, once you begin. 

In December I think of all the families I’ve cared for this year, in my work as a Funeral Celebrant. In each service, we say Thank You to someone. Thank you for our treasured connection, and for all the love we shared, we hold it close and it remains with us, long after they’ve gone. 

I am always in awe of how much love there is. It takes courage to love, and then it hurts when we lose someone; but what else matters in this life? Alongside the pain of loss, we’re so grateful to have known and loved someone, and for how they enriched our life, and that is what matters most.

I hope you’ve known love this year, and I hope that alongside the difficult dark days, there has been the lamplight of friendship and that you know how much you matter in this world.

We don’t say this enough, so maybe that’s a good thing to take into a new year, a habit of saying Thank You to those you’re lucky to know and love. 

It might sound soppy, but that’s ok. You can joke that you’re in a Richard Curtis film, as you tell someone how happy you are that you know them. Soppy can be good. And that friend may have a warm glow from your appreciation, like eating a bowl of tomato soup on a soggy day.

I had lunch with a friend in London this year, and she said such lovely things to me about our friendship, that I blushed and was briefly speechless. A busker was playing flamenco music and my friend began to dance, while talking about the spirit of ‘duende’. This translates roughly to ‘having a soul – a heightened expression of heart and emotion.’

Perhaps it was the music, or the sweltering London heatwave, but it’s such a vivid memory of a wonderful day, when we both expressed how much we cherish our friendship. 

You could imagine some flamenco music giving you the courage to say Thank You to someone in 2024, and let them know how special they are to you. (You can warn them of imminent soppy stuff, or find whatever works for you, whilst passing on a few Thank You’s.)

Now back to my Post-it note to 2023… even finding gratitude for the things that seemed rubbish at first.

Like the heavy rain at a friend’s barbecue. Their children are obsessed with snails, so they had the best time collecting snails and naming each one after us adults. And Thank You for whoever invented umbrellas, and washing powder that gets snail slime out of clothes…

Wishing you the best for 2024

Photo by Krzysztof Niewolny on Unsplash

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Cake & being Human…

A little confession, I don’t always practise this Mindfulness stuff. Sometimes I eat while watching TV & mindlessly scrolling my phone. Maybe you’ve done the same? We’re all human, just bumbling along and doing our best. But then we switch back into paying attention to the richness of the present moment, and it can be lovely!

I was in Brighton last week, walking though the Lanes when I took a bite of a raspberry & pistachio cake. It was ridiculously delicious, and I relished that first perfect mouthful. Then a blur of white feathers that felt like a clumsy angel brushing past my face, and it vanished. 

The cake and a seagull both gone in a split second.

I laughed, as the timing was impeccable and what else can you do? After checking that the seagull hadn’t left a Jackson Pollock deposit on my shoulder, I relished the typically ‘Brighton Experience’ of having a seagull steal my cake, with the stealth of an angelic ninja.

I’m so grateful that I’d fully appreciated that first bite, and hadn’t just wolfed the cake down while scrolling my phone & watching TV. It was all quite gentle, I didn’t see a sharp beak or beady eye, and no talon scratches to leave a mark. Just a soft blur of feathers and an empty hand.

In some traditional Zen stories, the master will slap the student in the face or pour cold water over them to hasten their enlightenment. Perhaps the seagull was my teacher, pushing me back into the present moment with a sneaky cake theft…

(I should also confess that in my short Brighton trip, I’d already eaten half my body weight in cake & chocolate, so by this point, perhaps the seagull was doing me a favour!)

When we’re away from home, it can be easier to ease back into a Mindfulness habit. In fresh surroundings we can be more aware of the present moment, and less caught up in the usual worries. 

Or perhaps you find this easier when cooking, gardening, or walking the dog? Hopefully at some point in your daily life you relax into just ‘being’ and not feeling as though you’re like Atlas, holding the world on your shoulders, and trying to care for everything & everyone at once.

Sometimes it’s those moments when we’re slightly delayed & forced to wait that we can choose to take a few deep breaths that ground us back to the present. Finding a way to welcome the slow traffic lights, or the laptop freezing, or our loved ones taking ages to get ready. A tiny minute of peace, if we can relax into the moment & notice the world around us. 

Most of us can’t do this 24 hours a day, but these tiny gaps in our schedule  are worth looking out for and practising just chilling out and being calmer. It’s better for our blood pressure and well being, and helps us find a little space in a crowded world.

Although I lost my cake, I decided that it gives me another reason to return to Brighton. The Open Bakery in Kemptown, in case you’re passing through…. Just wait till you’re indoors to nibble the cakes.

A good way to return to this state of naturally being in the moment is to join a Mindfulness & Writing Zoom. It’s a welcoming & friendly space, whether you’re a beginner or a more experienced writer. We’ll meander through some interesting new creative ideas, enjoy bursts of inspiration for quick scribbles, practise simple mindfulness habits and then relax with a meditation to unwind. Cake is optional…

For May our dates are Sunday 14th May 10.30am – 12pm and Monday 15th May 7pm – 8.30pm. Contact me if you’d like to join one. I promise no seagulls will be in the Zoom!

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‘Never Love Anyone Tepidly’ & ‘Be More Daffodil.’

Never Love Anyone Tepidly…

The words I heard as I switched on the radio the other day.

I like that rule. ‘Never Love Anyone Tepidly’. We can expand this to ‘Never Love Anyone or Anything Tepidly’.

Whoever or whatever you love, don’t do it half heartedly, just go for it!

You love trees? Go walk in the park as often as possible and gaze adoringly at the shapes & structures of every tree you encounter, in utter bliss. Read books about them and count the leaves on a tree one sunny afternoon, as the poet Mary Oliver once mentioned doing…

You love a mischievous three year old niece or grandchild? Enjoy the picture books & world of wiggling worms & lego, giggling often and playing for hours.

Love wholeheartedly those friends you’ve known for years. You may have seen each other through poodle home perms, heartbreak, illness, the usual dramas and crises that can bring us to our knees. They put the kettle on, make a sandwich and gently remind us that someone does care, and that Robert Frost was right, life does goes on.

Eventually.

To love a partner through the years won’t always be easy, there will be times when they are your favourite person in the universe, or at times they might drive you round the bend, just as you might irritate them….. 

Mostly it’s a good thing to do with our time, to love. But let’s not risk loving ‘tepidly’. That could be a greater risk than the risk of heartbreak or loss.

Even when we’ve lost someone, we don’t lose that love, it just continues in a different form. Love is that invisible thread that unites us like ‘a giant wonky cobweb!’ Not the most poetic phrase, but it came from an adorable seven year old in a poetry session I ran, and I thought it should be shared. 

February brings a commercial focus on ‘romantic love’ for Valentine’s day, but there are so many more types of Love than just that. Don’t forget to love yourself, as well. 

Don’t love yourself tepidly, but with enthusiasm, with a wholehearted sense of how ridiculous, wonderful & amazing you are, you have been and you will continue to be. 

You’re not perfect, neither am I or anyone else reading these words. Thankfully! That would be way too much pressure, but we can imperfectly bumble along and love each other and the world we inhabit. That’s a gentle aim for February.

There are tiny snowdrops bowing their heads, and daffodil shoots forcing their way above the ground in search of Winter sunlight in the UK. They have confidence there will be a Spring and they’re longing to show off their bold yellow trumpets. 

Let’s assume daffodils love themselves, and not tepidly. 

Be more daffodil!

Enjoy loving yourself & other people and things in the world this month, and notice when you love fully, not tepidly, and appreciate that quality of paying attention. I hope you also feel loved in return, and treasure that feeling.

I’ve just researched the voice on the radio who said, ‘Never love anyone tepidly’. It’s Catherine Newman, author of a book called ‘We all want impossible things.”

I’ll message her to say how brilliant her words were, as they’ve stayed with me for the last few days. She volunteers at a hospice, a place where each moment of everyday life becomes such a precious thing to be treasured.

Marie Curie hospices in the UK have the daffodil as their symbol. Did you know a daffodil field can bloom for a phenomenal 50 yrs? So the bulbs we chuck in the garden in a spirit of optimism may be cheering people up for decades.

In Japan daffodils symbolise joy and in France they represent Hope. All good things for us to keep hold of, as we navigate February. And some supermarkets have bunches of daffs for £1, which is the perfect way to cheer up a friend who might struggling this week.

This morning a group of lovely writers joined my Mindfulness Zoom session where we wrote about love in all sorts of different ways… from worms & daffodils to Burt Bacharach. We loved it all, and not tepidly!

The irony as I type this, of a ‘tepid’ cup of tea I forgot about. Just off to microwave it… and sending you the optimism of the daffodil for your February, and a biscuit for your tea…