Tag: love

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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…

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Valentine tips: Writing about Love. What I’ve learned as a Celebrant, Poet & Radio Presenter. And why a pineapple is the perfect love token!

As a Celebrant, I listen while people light up, telling me their real life Love stories. Then I write them into bespoke ceremonies & rituals that mark the big transitions in our lives.

It’s such a privilege. 

Like Love, it also comes with a responsibility. 

To tell their true Love story and for it to touch the heart of each person gathered. We might catch a glimpse of our own love reflected in the words at a wedding, turning to snuggle our beloved, while testing our waterproof mascara… 

Love spreads like this. I would say Love is ‘contagious’, but given recent events let’s think of Love as spreading like the aroma of baked apple pie with cinnamon freckles. Or freshly cooked chips with a vinegar top note. Delicious.

Maybe you or your partner don’t like apple pie or chips, but what do you love instead? Details matter, they make things personal and real.

So think about the one you love…what’s their favourite smell, or taste? Which song do they sing aloud to on the radio? If the words you write capture some details, it will help to make the message unique & the recipient feel special. 

You’ve noticed them. We all love to be noticed, and seen & heard.

Years ago, I used to present late night Love Zone radio shows, which meant sifting through hundreds of hand written letters from listeners every week. (In the dinosaur era, we didn’t have email or texts.)

Real life love stories were stuffed into each envelope. Sometimes 3 identical letters with requests for different names, but all from the same person, declaring to each, ‘You’re the only one for me’. Being truthful is a good idea with love stuff, so you can guess where those letters ended up…

Some stories were messy & complicated, but over 7 pages of green biro scrawl, the depth of feeling was clear. Love really can be ‘The Sweetest Feeling’ as the Jackie Wilson song goes.

We always had far more letters than time in the shows to share their story, so had to choose which dedications made it to air. Some stood out clearly, often thanks to the details which made them come to life.

For your Valentine, write something personal, that only they will get. You don’t need to be Ed Sheehan or Warsan Shire, but if your partner loves the work of a singer or writer, you could quote from them.

If your first date was at the cinema, write a soppy message quoting a line from the film on a home made ‘cinema ticket’ & stream that film.

Talking of films, if you’re in love, first think about your ‘Meet Cute’, Hollywood speak for how a couple first meet. I love asking couples about how they met. They don’t always have the same answer… but you can usually see their faces change. They often blush and sneak flirty glances at each other with a beaming smile, or a filthy laugh!

Maybe just thinking about when you met your beloved has changed how you feel now, softening into a smile widening across your face as you remember.

Tap into that feeling as you pick up a biro to scribble a few thoughts down… anything you remember from those first blushes of love?

What did you notice about this person? Maybe you were nervous & had that awkward self conscious teenager feeling, despite being 42? Or you fell off a chair & talked about how giraffes have the largest hearts of all land mammals? 

That was me on all counts. Luckily he didn’t run away.

Be yourself. If you haven’t scared them off already, with clumsiness & talk of giraffe hearts, then they like you just as you are. One of the sexiest things Mark Darcy said to Bridget Jones in that film, that he liked her very much, ‘Just as you are.‘ Swoon.

‘To thine own self be true’, as some scribe from Stratford wrote. Having watched ‘Upstart Crow’ on TV., I now only see David Mitchell as William Shakespeare. 

If someone loves you, then they want YOU to shine through any words you write.

So write what you’d say to them. If you’re not a natural silver tongued wordsmith, but put up amazing shelves & always do the washing up, then write about that, as your way of showing love. 

There’s a book about the ‘5 Languages’ of Love, the first of which is ‘words of affirmation.’ But there’s probably 5 million different ways we demonstrate our love. All can be amazing. But writing a line or two about what you love about that person is going to result in a warm glow for your beloved. 

For advertisers, 14th February is all about expensive bouquets of flowers, chocolates & champagne. But it can be about pineapples & onions. 

Bear with me here… 

I remember a Grook poem from Danish mathematician & scientist Piet Hein, I read it on the bus to school one day & it’s tattooed in my memory. It’s short & sweet, like all the best poetry, as my non-poet friends say…

‘Love is like a pineapple

Sweet and undefinable.’

So you could write that on a card, and give your love a pineapple, saying ‘I pineapple you.’

A memorable Valentine, and you can serve fresh slices of pineapple, then compost the skin for zero waste.

Or how about gifting your beloved an onion?

Bear with me again…

There’s a poem called ‘Valentine’ by Carol Ann Duffy. It begins, ‘Not a red rose or satin heart. I give you an onion. It is the moon wrapped in brown paper…’ 

Search it online & quote her to your Loved one. Then chop & cook the onion later in the week. Romantic dinners often start by caramelising an onion…

The poem goes on to talk of ‘Its’ platinum loops that shrink to a wedding ring, if you like.’ An original way to propose!

If this year’s Valentine’s Day leads to a proposal, as a Celebrant, I’m always thrilled to listen to a real life love story. We could even use an onion or pineapple in your ceremony, perhaps to hold the ring?!

My Aunty Doreen got married on Valentine’s Day. Her prudent husband thought it a good way to remember the date for anniversaries & save on extra cards or flowers each year!

A heartfelt post-it note & breakfast in bed can work wonders, so no need to splash the cash. Or a bar of Montezuma’s dark chocolate with orange & geranium, sublime flavours & £2.50 from our local shop. That’s my traditional Valentine treat. Hopefully my hairy viking partner has already got one stashed away ready. 

That’s another thing – don’t expect your partner to be a mind reader. They’ve probably got a lot on their plate already & it’s not been the easiest couple of years lately. So a huge act of love is not putting pressure on the one you love to plan epic or expensive surprises, lovely though they might be. Instead you could just talk about Valentines or any other time of the year & what you’d both like to do.

Happy Valentine’s, however you’re celebrating it this year. In a relationship or happily single, I hope you feel a glow of all the love you’ve had from family, partners & friends through the years. Tuck it close to your heart, and in remembering the details, it might sneak a smile from the inside out. 

And perhaps treat yourself to a delicious pineapple.

p.s. A real life love poem is below, commissioned by Julie Boden for ‘Love in Leamington’. It mentions all true life details, from thread veins to the Giraffe heart thing. Music by the outstanding Steve Tromans. Excuse me waddling like a duck, buying a red dress on a whim just before the gig wasn’t my smartest idea, given that I don’t usually wear dresses. You see, be yourself – I should have known!

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Shouting at plastic & the healing power of fried eggs…

Have you ever found yourself shouting at plastic objects? Or more precisely, shouting at a new printer you’re trying to assemble?

If so, you’ll understand why last Thursday saw me doing just that. I never shout at people, knowing that it rarely improves a situation, and usually leaves people feeling worse. But shouting is particularly ridiculous when the recipient is a collection of plastic printer parts. Despite being one of the calmest people I know, (thanks to practising mindfulness stuff for decades) I’m still a massively imperfect human being and not skilled at setting up technology.

Understatement.

After 3 hours it still stubbornly refused to print anything; instead swallowing pristine snowy sheets only to crumple and shred them like a Banksy at auction. Every possible light was flashing, to demonstrate how unhappy this machine was; affronted at the notion of printing a simple document on a single A4.

Brokering a peace treaty, where both sides agree to take a break, I escaped to the kitchen. The simple comforting pleasure of a golden sun in an opaque cloud gently sizzling in a pan, with a flatbread into the toaster. Add a squirt of tomato & chilli sauce, a freckle dusting of coarse black pepper and behold the magnificence of the ultimate healing concoction. A fried egg sandwich.

After devouring the messy remedy and washing up, things seemed a little better. I could laugh at how absurd this printer drama was. I wasn’t shouting at the printer, but myself, frustrated by my own technical ineptitude. Us humans are highly skilled at reminding ourselves of our many past failures, and projecting this into the future as proof that we’ve never been any good with certain things and never will be.

Not helpful though, to wallow like this. Letting go of the past stories of how rubbish I am with computers, just for a moment, enabled me to stay in the present and find some optimism. Instead of being frustrated, I could marvel at the technological advances of the world since my first printer encounter at work 30 years ago.

There was now something on the table that might… one day… allow me to print at home. And not just in black & white, but in colour. Imagine the photos and cards to send to family and friends, and the bespoke scripts for my work as a Celebrant. Weddings, Handfastings, Vow Renewals and Baby namings; Memorials and Funerals; services that sum up all encompassing loves and lifetimes. Things even more magnificent than the fried egg sandwich.

And it will print plans, ideas and running orders for Mindfulness sessions- the thought of which makes me giggle. The printer can be a wonderful teacher and reminder of all things Mindfulness related. How to accept the world calmly as it really is at any given moment, and make peace with it. Things aren’t always as we’d wish them to be, especially in 2020, but by staying present with reality in this moment, we can find our way forwards one tiny bit at a time. Or one flashing light at a time, as I approached the printer again.

With a few simple breathing techniques to remain calm, this time I work with the printer. Instead of shouting at it, I decide to ask it politely if we can work together and patiently resolve each problem in turn. Diagnosing each strange flashing light and attempting the individual solution in turn finally reaps rewards. Printer inks removed and reinserted. Paper tray removed and replaced. Several times. Switched on and off. Several times. Log-in reattempted and Set-up repeated. Several times. Finally the swirling lights that echo the Northern Lights in their awe and wonder, as the printer finally emits hopeful spluttering sounds. A single A4 splutters out of the printer, anointed by ink on both sides.

Hallelujah!

‘Thank you, and sorry for shouting earlier’, I whisper to the printer. Hoping this is the last time we’ll experience this hiccup in our long and happy relationship that lies ahead. If we do hit a bump in the road, I’ll remember to signal Time Out for a fried egg sandwich.

*If you don’t eat eggs, I can recommend scrambled tofu, with turmeric to keep that golden glow, and a splurge of chilli sauce of course.

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Still water…

I once wrote a poem called ‘Still Water’. Don’t worry, I’ve forgotten most of it – so you’re spared. But there was a line about ‘not being able to see yourself in running water, only still.’ As we’re still in semi-locked-down, land-locked Midlands , not much chance of seeing a home cut fringe reflected in any water bigger than our Aldi birdbath.

It’s as if we’ve all stumbled into ‘The Reflection’, don’t worry, it’s not another poem, you can relax. Nor an introspective Escape Room. The Reflection is an important time in many ceremonies and rituals you’ll have been present at. Probably dressed in your finest outfit, surrounded by relatives you only see at functions like weddings, baby naming or end of life occasions.

Times when we all press the ‘pause’ button on our hectic schedules, stop looking at our phones and all focus our attention on the stuff that really matters in this world. You know, that love thing. Yes, Love. Steadfast, soppy, romantic, frustrating, enduring, evolving, the thing they write songs about, sonnets about… don’t worry, no poems here, I promised. If pilates helps exercise your core muscles, ceremonies remind us to focus on what’s at the core of our worlds. Love.

Having trained in 2019 to be a Civil Celebrant, with the phenomenal people at FOIC, I learned about the importance of building a ‘reflection time’ into a service. A way of uniting those present, perhaps to reflect on how each of us can help nurture and guide the baby at a naming ceremony. Or witnessing a wedding, the power of seeing two individuals pledge their love to each other, and taking time to treasure those we live our lives alongside. Or at the end of a life, as we say goodbye to someone we’ve loved. A chance to remember good times shared, giving thanks that we knew them, and vowing to live life in honour of their memory. Three months reflecting like this would be bliss…

But this virus had us dressed not in our finest wedding outfits, but in comfy t-shirts & pyjama bottoms, working from home and juggling home schooling. This virus shut shops, cafes, gyms, cinemas, theatres and pubs.  But the hardest to bear – worse than any home haircut – this virus banned gatherings of families and friends for months. Having to keep our distance from loved ones has been the toughest thing to endure. Dropping shopping off on the doorstep, and not being able to hug our favourite people in the universe (including Jason Momoa) has just felt wrong. We’ve had three months of the ‘pause’ button pressed on our normal day to day life, without feeling the benefit of a tranquil reflection.

The virus didn’t guide us gently through the rituals we know and trust in a good ceremony. The calendar didn’t give us several months notice, and reminders to get the suit from the dry cleaners. We didn’t gradually take our seats at appointed times, chatting quietly amongst the rows gathering before the music nudged us into readiness. Nobody took charge welcoming us with warmth, humour and family stories, as we united in our sacred purpose. Celebrating love is the role of the Celebrant, and we’ve been unable to serve, with weddings and baby naming cancelled, and funerals curtailed.

But as some restrictions are lifting, and we nudge our way tentatively into the new world of Summer 2020, there has been an evolution. However subtle. We’ve united in our isolation, and connected online more than ever before. Shopping for neighbours, Zooming family quizzes and checking in on single friends. We all know ‘how fragile we are’, as the song by Sting reminded us. And we all know that Love is all everything pop songs, films and greetings cards told us, and so much more.

People are the thing we’ve missed more than hairdressers and clothes shopping. As we ‘bubble up’ and venture into gardens to share picnics and laughter, we truly know how much we care about each other. Maybe the stillness of the outside world meant that under the surface, beneath the worry and fear, amidst home schooling & home office-ing, we did get a chance to reflect. We are emerging differently, focusing our attention on what really matters, or I should say, on those that really matter.

Now it’s up to us, to nurture those connections more than ever, and celebrate those we love. It doesn’t need to be champagne in fancy crystal flutes, just a cuppa and a jam tart will do. But next time you’re able to sit 2 metres from someone you’ve missed for months, propose a toast and create a ritual of your own. Tell the other one what they mean to you, how much you love and cherish them, and enjoy a moment of reflection together. Before the tea goes cold. Cheers!

©2024 Charlie Jordan