Posted on

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

Posted on

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!

Posted on

‘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…

Posted on

Enchanted moments on the bus & cheesy fingertips…

Random chance moments can be like pure gold in an otherwise pretty average day.

Sometimes they come from nature, like when you see an urban fox gingerly padding around your garden, or a scrappy little blue tit land on your bird feeder, with newly grown punk rock feathers.

Sometimes they come from the amazing human beings that we share this planet with. It’s always good to cherish them.

On the bus yesterday, shortly after a vicious row between two passengers sitting at the back, I noticed a young Mum got on the bus with a little toddler in a pram. They both had the same stunning corkscrew curls that I used to try to coax my straggly hair into, using pink foam pipe cleaner things from Bearwood market in the 1980’s. Never quite worked, nor did the poodle home perm, but I digress!

This beautiful young Mum and her toddler were sharing a packet of Aldi’s cheese puff crisps, and the little one was absolutely captivated by the noise the scrunchy bag made, and examining how her tiny fingers were covered in bright orange cheesy powder, then she’d delicately taste before nibbling another cheese puff.

There was such a gentle and loving bond between the two of them, contented in their bubble of togetherness and oblivious to the angry shouting they’d just missed.

It was pure joy to watch, and I beamed at the Mum as we began a conversation. The whole atmosphere on the bus had softened and tensions dissolved as these two amazing human beings joined us.

It also made me peckish for cheesy crisps!

Then this morning, as I opened the bedroom window, I spotted a neighbour gently holding his baby up to touch the leaves of a tree. I’ll let you imagine the sense of pure wonder on the face of the baby and the pure love shining on the face of the young Dad.

With these two glimpses of all that is wonderful in the world, I have faith that there is still enchantment and magic to be found, on the bus or through your window. It’s there to bolster us against all the harsh and difficult things in the world.

These tender moments of grace, love, wonder, and cheesy crisps are to be cherished.

These glimpses were of two young parents raising future generations with such care and patient attention. Both were utterly ‘in the moment’, sharing precious everyday miracles with their children.

Luckily I got to witness them and I hope you get to see something equally wonderful today. Keep looking and you’ll happen on these tiny moments of effortless Mindfulness. I wish you a September full of them.

Now, where did I put the cheesy crisps…

http://Image Thanks to Janko Ferlic at Unsplash
Posted on

The first snowdrop. Or is it bird poo?

January can be a bit bleak. Dark, cold & goes on for 100 days. 

So when you catch a glimpse of ‘the first snowdrop’ in the garden, your soul might do a little happy dance as you trust that Spring will return again. 

But then you look again, with your varifocal glasses on and it’s not the first snowdrop after all. 

It’s a blob of white bird poo, nestling on the end of the snowdrop stem that is happily growing just by the gate. 

The bulbs planted there so you can notice the first signs of this wonder of nature.

The wonder being the snowdrop bud, not the bird’s little gift!

Is this a sign of something deep & spiritual? Or just one of nature’s little ironies that can make you despair or laugh out loud. 

It depends.

You see, we feed the birds. A lot. And friends & family buy us extra bird feeders as gifts.

So this January the ‘all you can eat buffet’ for our feathered friends expanded with even more cleverly designed hanging containers that swing near the bird table. 

Not forgetting the bird bath, which has an old ridged frying pan wedged across it. 

Sounds strange, but the teeny tiny birds enjoy the shallow puddles & lines of nibbles it offers them. We think of it as the ‘junior pool’ but don’t ask if they’re wearing verruca socks, as we had to for school swimming lessons!

No bird feeder has yet designed a way to swerve the Jackson Pollock style splashes that decorate the garden wherever the birds are.

So if you’re going to feed the birds, what goes in one end has to come out of the other. Pardon me if you’re eating your breakfast right now… but it’s just nature.

It was funny, realising I’d seen what I long for in January, a sign of Spring. I was willing the sunshine to return & buds to blossom, and trying to fast forward nature.

So that’s what nature does, it reminds you who is boss. Sometimes it’s not a flower, it’s a blob of bird poo.

But it’s also a sign of love. If we choose to look for it.

The love of friends & family who buy us the new bird feeders.

My partner’s love of feeding the birds that nudges him to buy regular supplies of all their favourite selections.

My love for how patiently he cleans & fills up their feeders, and scrubs the swing clear of unfortunate splashes, before we sit on it.

Our love of watching the birds, a habit cherished more since the Pandemic changes. Thuggish robins facing off mischievous blue tits & the occasional excitement of a goldfinch or goldcrest. 

Or the thrill of spotting a woodpecker that looks like he’s wearing red pants on a black & white feathered frame. 

Maybe that’s the solution, bird pants? From the same shop as the bird verruca socks!

My habit of getting things wrong is funny. As we get older it’s good to be able to laugh at our own foolishness & rubbish eyesight. 

And yesterday as I walked past the pot & glanced down at the snowdrop bulbs, guess what? 

Yes, another white blob.

This time, it really was our first snowdrop flower of 2022.

So next time you see something that isn’t quite what you’re hoping for, can you find a way to see Love in it? Even the process of trying that might make you giggle.

But also kept an eye out for any birds that might have just eaten too much from the buffet & are about to Jackson Pollock…

**If you’d like to know more or join one of the regular Mindfulness & Writing Zoom sessions I run, where we play with ideas like this, & chill out with relaxing & restoring meditations… message from the ‘Contact’ bit of this website. They are friendly groups where giggling & daydreaming are encouraged alongside the practically useful & more inspired stuff. No experience of Mindfulness or Writing are needed, and beginners & those more experienced are equally welcome. Happy snowdrop seeking meantime…

Photo with thanks to Yoksel at Unsplash.

Posted on

Hot orange squash & enlightenment.

As a 15 yr old from Birmingham, the height of sophistication was drinking hot orange squash. Tesco’s own brand usually, but occasionally the luxury of Kia-Ora.

I wasn’t a proper grownup, so didn’t drink tea or coffee. We definitely hadn’t heard of herbal teas back then… the stuff of wizards & alchemy, if you’d even suggested it!

So when I stumbled on a Japanese Tea shop on a day trip to London it was mindblowingly exciting.

The black lacquered interior was beguiling… the aroma of the tea selection lent it the air of an apothecary from an ancient text.

I was so eager to buy something, but as I didn’t drink tea, and couldn’t spy a bottle of orange squash on a shelf, what to choose?

I circled the space, bewildered & trying to find something to spend my £2 an hour part time wages on. Finally I spotted it.

A high up shelf, so my 6 ft height, often the subject of name calling at school – lanky, lamp post, chopstick, giraffe… the usual, was useful.

Above the glass domes of straggly herbal teas & boxes of mysterious potions was a line of books.

Many were not in English, as I gently traced the unfamiliar characters that lined the spines. One stood out, with a bright red cover.

My favourite colour, maybe a sign?! I was clutching at straws here.

Before I shyly pulled the book out, I vowed that if it was in English, it would be mine.

Phew.

Result, I’d be taking a piece of this exotic emporium home. Devouring the words on the ‘London Liner’ within hours, on the cheapest coach service back then.

‘The Sun My Heart’ was this book, by Thich Nhat Hanh.

A friend, disguised as a book.

My copy is so well thumbed, read many times over the last 35 yrs.

Clutched on flights, when turbulence terrified me. Turned to when life was chaotic or seemed unfair. A source of solace in times of loss. Gentle poetic wisdom when inspiration was needed.

A deceptively simple message on every page that illuminated each day beyond the ordinary into something to treasure.

I’d been through the care system, rejected by 4 families before I was even a year old, but this book was somewhere I felt at home.

I stumbled upon my first introduction to the ideas & wisdom of Buddhism, all thanks to drinking hot orange squash rather than tea.

It’s a beautiful book that I’ve bought for friends over the years, and recommend to you if you’d like an introduction to Mindfulness practices. (You don’t need to have a Buddhist faith or belief to find many treasures in the pages, and it’s definitely not out to convert you.)

That sense of being present in this moment; enjoying a cup of tea & not getting lost in endless worries or struggles of the past or future is something we can all benefit from.

Especially after a time of global pandemic.

Thich Nhat Hanh was a phenomenal man. A peace activist who opposed the Vietnam war, he was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by Martin Luther King.

Exiled from his home in Vietnam for decades, he knew what it was like not to feel at home anywhere in the world, & had to create a new home.

He helped to set up the deliciously named Plum Village community in the South of France, which has become home & refuge for many. He’s often described as the Father of Mindfulness in the West, and even appeared with Oprah Winfrey on TV.

His teachings are of kindness & compassion but also actively helping each other through this lifetime & standing up to injustice. It’s impossible to sum up here just how significant his life has been for so many of us.

He died this week, at 95.

You can search online to find out more about his life, or just sit peacefully with a cup of tea right now & enjoy this moment. I think he’d like that. Always with a soft smile.

Or take a slow walk & gaze at the trees around you. ‘Kiss the earth with your feet’ he once wrote, about how to walk mindfully. ‘We walk for everyone, always hand in hand’ he said, appreciating each step.

I’ve always been clumsy, all uncoordinated long arms & legs, often stumbling or falling over. I once fell over a hoover, breaking it & the bin & my ribs… not recommended!

But as I get older, have learned a little about this walking thing. I even appreciate the trees that were invisible to me as an inner city girl, until I was at least 40. Now I LOVE trees & can tell you which ones in the local park still have a few leaves left on them. Even in January those determined yet crinkled dried brown leaves, clinging on no matter what…

‘Walk with me’ is a gently powerful film, narrated by Benedict Cumberbatch, that shows some the work of Thich Nhat Hanh. How this sense of living in the present moment is embodied by the monks & nuns who live in the community at Plum Village, and those who visit on retreat.

When I first began studying Mindfulness practices & went on retreats, I longed to visit Plum Village. To walk the ground he’d stepped upon, to sit meditation in the halls near to him, & feel the calming presence of those who follow the teachings.

As if being there would trigger some magic transformation, after which I’d be able to concentrate for hours in silent meditation & always be a perfectly patient human being…

As if!

And the complete opposite of the humble man himself, who had no intention of becoming a famous guru or rock star of the Mindfulness world.

I once read of a Meditation teacher who’d planned a visit to the delightfully named Plum Village, only to be furious that Thich Nhat Hanh himself wasn’t there, but was travelling.

The irony!

So however wonderful it might be at Plum Village, and lovely for those who do visit… it’s not a necessary part of a Mindfulness practice.

‘Start where you are’, as Pema Chodron wrote.

The simple wisdom & practices themselves are enough, and easily available. Like watering & weeding a garden, or nurturing those you are near to, wherever you are.

A beloved teacher, Thay, as he was affectionately known, will be much missed. I’m so grateful I stumbled upon his words, that have enlarged my understanding of the world and how to exist in it.

All thanks to the love of hot orange squash! You never know when some random detail will lead you to something big in your life.

Thich Nhat Hanh loved to drink tea, and distilled his core wisdom of paying attention to the present moment into the simplicity of ‘When you drink tea, drink the tea.’ Meaning to pay attention to the tea and enjoy it, and to pay attention to whoever you drink the tea with. Not your phone.

I wonder if he ever tried hot orange squash?! Or hot Ribena, if we’re being posh or you’re feeling poorly.

Thank you Thay, for so much. As you become the bud on the spring branch (as you wrote of becoming, beyond this life), I’ll put the kettle on.

**If you’d like to know more or join one of the monthly ‘Mindfulness, Writing & Journalling’ sessions I run on Zoom, drop me a line from the ‘Contact Charlie’ bit of this website. They’re a welcoming & accessible place where we look at some big ideas with small scribbles & creativity, learn new techniques & Mindfulness practices that work in the real world. And where daydreaming & giggling are encouraged… it’s never about perfection or being po faced!

Thanks to Laura Adai, at Unsplash.
Posted on

Mindfulness First Aid kit & plankton.

When it snows, the advice is to pack the car with a warm coat, snow shovel, flask of tea & a giant bar of chocolate. Or more sensible emergency food supplies…

Well, here’s 3 things for a Mindfulness First Aid Kit to help cope with January, as we approach ‘Blue Monday’. (Not the amazing New Order song, but that third Monday in January when we’re months away from a Bank Holiday, it’s cold & dark… actually I’ll stop listing & get onto what might help with it!)

You know how sometimes on your phone screen, something is so tiny that you have to zoom in to enlarge it & see it more clearly? Well, with January, try the opposite. It can help to zoom out & get a bigger screen perspective, blurring the tiny annoying details.

The words of Pema Chodron, an American Tibetan Buddhist nun are worth sticking on a post-it note at any time of the year, but especially in January. Perfect for us Brits, who love to focus on the weather.

‘You are the sky. Everything else – it’s just the weather.’

Brilliantly simple & absolutely accurate. Life will continue to move, like clouds rolling across the sky. That sense of you remaining larger than any current dramas in your life and holding the space to contain it all.

The good stuff and the less welcome events in our life. Change is the only certainty. Impermanence. Like the weather.

In Australia or Vietnam it’s currently much hotter than in the U.K. The seasons are different. Wherever you live, the weather can show off the full range of sunshine, rain, gale force winds etc. in a single day.

Usually that day you’re working outdoors or at a festival, with a soggy new hairstyle & inside out umbrella.

You get the idea… So it’s knowing that January lasts for 31 days, not 31 years, and the seasons will evolve into warmer days when the garden will have paintbox colour splashes to cheer it up again.

But let’s go further with this. I invite you to write your own version of the words. So if you love swimming in the sea, ‘You are the ocean. Everything else, it’s just plankton.’

Or if you love knitting, ‘You are the needles, everything else is just balls of wool.’ or ‘You are the hotel buffet breakfast, everything else is just bread rolls…’

Then when things pop up this month that you don’t like, you can think of them as plankton, balls of wool or bread rolls. Useful to think of your boss as a bread roll…

On to part 2 of the First Aid kit.

Maybe as a child you were forced to spend the days after Christmas writing Thank you letters to people for gifts you may have received.

As a 5 yr old, trying to find enthusiasm for Lily of the Valley bath cubes was an interesting challenge…

But gratitude freely given is a different matter. It can help to nudge our brains away from the negative bias of January. The National Science Foundation estimates we can have up to 50, 000 negative thoughts a day. Perhaps more in January…

So start small. 3 things to appreciate today. If you’re somewhere with a boiler that works and hot water, start there. I type this having not had hot water for several days now… it’s minus 1 celsius and still frosty at 3 pm, but at least I have water!

Gratitude that your child ate a vegetable, for a change. Thankful that the dog’s tummy troubles have eased & you still have a carpet.

Appreciating your neighbours who cooked curries for you & the family when Covid hit & you couldn’t get out to the shops.

Seeing a cheerful little robin on the gatepost, posing for next year’s Christmas cards already!

This also helps with the bigger scary things in life. In a noisy MRI machine, alert with the pure terror of serious illness where each test reminds us of our potential impermanence. I found it does help to be thankful we live in a world where scientists create these machines.

To appreciate the overworked & patient staff who guide us through the system. The porter with their gentle jokes that keep us distracted. I’m sure they design the backless gowns specifically to avoid us running away in these situations…

You can write these down in a ‘Gratitude Journal’, or just notice them & appreciate them. It’s good to have a regular time to develop this practice, i.e. when brushing your teeth, or in the shower, or when your head finally nestles in the pillow at night.

With a silent ‘Thank you’, if you’ve got a comfy pillow & a clean pillowcase to rest your head. And the luxury of a bed. Maybe even with a loved one curled up next to you. That’s 3 or 4 right there.

If you want to aim for more than 3 Gratitudes, just keep going. A friend aims for 100 a night. It’s a truly advanced practice to appreciate the snores of your beloved partner or cat.

Which brings us on to part 3 of our Mindfulness First Aid Kit.

Something you do without thinking 20, 000 times a day. Although often we don’t do it that well. Shallow even.

Yes, breathing. A simple core practice of Mindfulness, but one that really helps. If you’ve ever found yourself overwhelmed, stressed or furious, and tried to calm yourself down… it’s not easy.

Often it’s easier to calm your breathing first, then that gives you a bit of ‘wiggle room’ to focus on calming down the other primal emotions, once you’ve caught your breath.

Athletes know the power of breath, and using it for maximum performance.

But we’re more interested in using it to calm and ground us in this moment. Not panicking about the hundreds of possible future things that terrify us. Or dwelling on messy situations from the past.

I could list all the evidence of how deep nourishing breaths can begin to regulate our blood pressure, boost our immune system, or help switch off the Adrenalin rush of the ‘Fight or Flight’ emergency system of our bodies. That urge to out run the woolly mammoth that might have been lurking outside the cave..

It’s ok, I’ve checked, no woolly mammoths at this moment.

So just giving our brain a little ‘popcorn snack’ of paying attention to the air entering through the nostrils of the next inhalation, following it as it goes into the lungs and fills the belly, before the ‘letting go’ of the exhalation as the air flows out again… can help distract our brain from the endless cycle of worries and thoughts, like a washing machine full of scrambled eggs. Or maybe that’s just my brain…

As little as 3 long, deep breaths, where we pay attention to gently calming & deepening our breathing can help kick in the parasympathetic nervous system. 3 minutes of this, perhaps counting your breaths can help enhance all these good benefits to our bodies in a mini ‘Mindfulness First Aid’ kit way.

And actually I think you’ll know from experience, it just feels calmer and much nicer to be settled quietly for a moment in this state. Take your cue from a purring cat, positioning themselves on a comfy cushion, near a radiator and just squinting into the winter sunshine.

Or that moment when a baby has been screaming & crying, but finally settles down. Snuggled in your arms, their breathing starts to calm and slow down until the exhale becomes a soft snore and you both rest in that blissful moment.

Rest.

Another good added extra for the First Aid kit, resting in the moment with that Pema Chodron quote. Imagining plankton or bread rolls for the minor irritations. And maybe put the kettle on as well.

Cups of tea or coffee are a natural way of giving you a few moments to gaze at the sky, be thankful that the milk is still fresh and just rest in the moment with some good deep nourishing breaths.

And if you’ve still got that chocolate in the car from the snow, well… I’ll leave that up to you.

**If you’d like to know more or join one of the monthly ‘Mindfulness, Writing & Journalling’ sessions I run on Zoom, drop me a line from the ‘Contact Charlie’ bit of this website. They’re a welcoming & accessible place where we look at some big ideas with small scribbles & creativity, learn new techniques & Mindfulness practices that work in the real world. And where daydreaming & giggling are encouraged… it’s never about perfection or being po faced!

Photo thanks to Unsplash, Kowit Phothisan.

Posted on

How to do New Year: one carrot & cutlery drawer at a time…

As it’s already January, Happy New Year greetings to you! A time of optimism as we look ahead, and ‘dwell in possibility’, as the poet Emily Dickinson wrote.

But don’t expect too much from yourself, be gentle.

Baby steps.

When a ship wants to change course, the rudders shift by small amounts, but gradually the ship turns and heads in the right direction.

So if you plan to get healthier, don’t try running 10K on 1st January & existing on kale smoothies… Just try scrubbing a carrot & crunching on it while you make dinner. Or throwing a handful of frozen peas into a pasta sauce to add an extra portion of veg towards your 5 a day.

If you plan to declutter the whole house & live a stylish minimalist life worthy of Instagram, just start with the cutlery drawer. It’s a 10 minute job that gives you a tiny win straight away & a natural hit of dopamine to mark the achievement.

Just don’t get rid of the hamster or the children, no matter how messy they might be today…

It’s tempting to imagine January 1st on the calendar signals a whole new You. Been there & done that. It didn’t work.

How could it? January can be a bleak, cold & dark month… especially if you’ve given up chocolate.

Again.

I’ve lost count of the years that 31st December would be spent polishing off every Quality Street, Roses & After Eight in the house… swearing that the following year would be one free from chocolate.

Then Cadburys would bring out the first Creme Eggs in early January, and it would be rude not to!

Growing up in Birmingham, with family & friends working in Cadburys chocolate factory, & having a name like Charlie, associated with a proverbial Chocolate Factory…

So from my 40’s onwards, I’ve figured out that this is never going to work. Instead I aim for the slightly healthier option of darker chocolate.

Baby steps.

Initially it was 70%. But then I worked my way up to 85%. And occasionally the hardcore option of 100% cocoa. But work your way up gradually to that, it’s not for the faint hearted.

Lots of small decisions are yours to make over coming days, weeks, and months of 2022.

So start small, but be consistent. Be realistic. And before you judge yourself harshly as needing major improvement, first try a little Gratitude.

Sprinkle that on with the goji berry/linseed sprinkles on top of your Acai bowl, or whatever the trendspotters predict we’ll be noshing this year.

Appreciate that you’ve made it through whatever 2020 & 2021 hurled your way. And let’s be honest, they were not the easiest of years for any of us.

So whatever you’ve personally been dealing with, and might be utterly exhausted by, you made it through. So reward yourself with a New Year’s Honours list title of your own. I’m sure the Queen won’t mind.

What will you name it? The, ‘I home schooled my kids while juggling work Teams meetings, delivering shopping for vulnerable neighbours & not throwing a tantrum when the petrol stations had a petrol crisis that wasn’t really a petrol crisis, but the pumps were empty?!’

Actually you could try doing less.

In fact, try doing nothing.

How radical would that be?

Just for a few minutes a day. No laptop or phone screen, just set a kitchen timer if you want to mark the 5 minutes.

And maybe carve out a few minutes of chill-out time every day just for yourself. No expectations of achieving anything.

Not doing anything.

Just being.

It doesn’t matter if you call this Meditation, or daydreaming, or just sitting.

In fact, if you’ve got a chair or sofa to curl up on for these sacred 5 minutes of peace, with a view of a tree – you can call it Tree time.

Or Cat time, if you’ve got a cat who would love to be adored for 5 minutes of your undivided attention. Just relaxing and giving yourself a break will help.

You can try focusing on your breathing. Nothing fancy, just noticing the air as it goes in through your nostrils, then down into your lungs, and finally filling your belly.

Let it rise, without judgement of the size or shape of your belly.

Be like a toddler who feels pure joy and wonder at their curving tummy, do not use tabloid journalist body shaming.

Allowing your belly to softly fill with air helps you to deepen and gently slow down each breath, making it more relaxing & nourishing.

This gentle attention on your breath helps give your brain a little ‘popcorn’ to snack on. This is less stressful than you trying to completely empty your mind & clear out your busy brain.

But it subtly takes your attention away from the 1001 worries that can swirl around your head like scrambled eggs in a washing machine.

Just giving you a few minutes breathing space can help calm your system down. This can boost your immune system, slightly lower your blood pressure a little and help to sooth the primitive part of the brain that may have been on constant Fight or Flight response mode in recent years.

Think of it as smoothing over a design flaw from centuries ago, as you help yourself trust that no woolly mammoth is about to chase you. Back then we didn’t have phone screens & 24 hour news channels that constantly flashed up woolly mammoth equivalents…

So that’s a good way to begin your New Year’s resolutions, by doing 5 minutes less every single day of 2022.

You may come to relish these few minutes as total bliss. Looking forward to a chance to de-stress and chill-out in peace no matter how demanding the rest of the day is.

Oh, and don’t forget the carrot.

Or the cutlery drawer. But only if you want to… baby steps.

**Would you like to try a monthly Mindfulness & Journalling session on Zoom? In small friendly groups where beginners are welcome alongside more experienced writers.

Where we practice new techniques that work on your Superpower of Mindfulness, in a relaxed & creative way. Where giggling & daydreaming are encouraged alongside fresh inspiration. Where you’re always welcome to share the things we think & write, but there’s never any pressure to do so.

If so, drop me a line & you’re welcome as a guest on the 2nd Sunday morning, or 2nd Monday evening of each month. Next sessions are 9th Jan at 10.30am, and 10th Jan at 7pm. All you need is pen & paper, and maybe a cuppa. Oh, and chocolate if you like… the higher cocoa content the better!

Photo thanks to Green Chameleon at Unsplash.
Posted on

Solstice, the gradual return of the light. And chips for breakfast!

Photo from Unsplash, thanks to Niklas Hamann

Wiser women than me state that around 3.59pm today (UK time) is a good time to focus on the Solstice.

To let go of the difficult stuff from this year, taking note of what we’ve learned from it, & appreciate our resilience. Then to focus our intention & attention on the coming year ahead. What matters most for us, the people & endeavours that are worth our precious time & energy.

Change & impermanence are the only certainty; something most of us truly understand as we age. But throw in a global pandemic and even toddlers are fully aware that everything can and will change in a heartbeat.

The world weary 3 yr old daughter of a friend of mine now suggests or blames ‘the Rona virus’ as a potential reason why she can’t have or do whatever she pleases. Why can’t I have chips for breakfast or a unicorn for Christmas? With a theatrical sigh, ‘Oh, is it the Rona again? It’s not fair!’

It’s something that has hurled a spanner into the works of many of our plans & assumptions over the last 2 years. From work, school, family gatherings, holidays and more, so is it foolish or naive to even think about how we want the next year to be?

I’m world weary enough, like the 3 year old, to know that it’s not as simple as wishing or imagining something we want, and in some magical way, it will appear or manifest. Otherwise Jason Momoa, aka Aquaman would be helping with the washing up as I type this.

But aside from all the stuff in the universe we can’t change, and have no influence over… there is the small matter of ourselves. We do have some sway here.

Some.

So we begin here. In whatever small way we can. In some December Mindfulness sessions we looked at the idea of ‘Worth’, the title of the Michael Keaton film about how insurance companies assessed the worth of a life of those lost in 9/11.

But more broadly, considering what you consider ‘worthwhile’ for your time, and what really matters to you. How we spend our days is how we spend our lives, as the saying goes. In 2021, when you look back at the year, as we tend to do in December, what was really worthwhile for you?

Maybe it was the tiny things, keeping a potted plant alive, reading more books, getting to know neighbours or distant family better, baking your first loaf of bread, or growing your first tomatoes.

Or the sustained efforts, like daily 10,000 steps, whatever the weather, volunteering for a local community group, or learning a new language online, even though travel abroad was tricky this year?

Or the bigger things like navigating a divorce, a job loss, serious illness or the death of a loved one. The things that forever alter the fabric of our day to day existence and may have found you sobbing on the bathroom floor at 4 am, wondering how to go on.

Sometimes the notion of getting through the next 24 hrs is overwhelming, so just figuring out how to get through the next hour or minute can be enough. When things are this tough it might seem too much to contemplate what matters to you for a whole year.

But sitting for a few moments, with a cup of tea, reflecting on what your values are, what really matters when things get this challenging can give you an anchor. Or a vague sense of where North is on your own personal compass.

Love & kindness are pretty central to mine. No matter how many bad things happen, and these last years have seen the loss of work & money, the ill health & depression of loved ones and the death of a beloved friend. Love & kindness remain my home base. Almost an act of rebellion!

These things that nearly break us can also break us open with a tender vulnerability that helps us connect with others who are struggling.

I’m nowhere near perfect, like most of us, just a foolish imperfect being who is trying my best. With a lens of love or kindness, I can see what everyone else is trying to do, and know that we’re all just stumbling along, hopefully walking each other home, as they say. With cake and tea-breaks sometimes.

So whilst we can’t yet know the details of 2022, we can start from the tiny centre of ourselves and where we’re going to focus our time and energies. What really matters to us, and to let go of the other stuff as much as possible.

Solstice seems like a good chance to sketch out this line in the sand, and remember the gradual return of the light bringing a little hope even on the darkest days.

Who knows, although we might not get a unicorn for Christmas… we can choose to have chips for Breakfast. Solstice chips… maybe with a fried egg to symbolise the golden sun & the gradual return of the light!

Photo Unsplash, thanks to Scott Eckersley.
Posted on

Autumn Wisdom from Children’s TV

Do you remember Bod?

When there weren’t endless channels of choice, we had just one programme at lunchtime each day for us kids. Well, that’s how I remember it.

Bagpuss & Pipkins were good, but my favourite was Bod. A triangle shaped person with their own theme tune. In fact every character had their own theme tune. Perhaps you can choose your own theme tune for today?

Anyway, Bod had mellow adventures, and once there was a snippet about trees losing their leaves as the seasons changed. (We didn’t have Mutant Ninja Turtles back then, or Zombie pizza games… )

I remember Aunt Flo was sad about the trees losing their leaves, but Bod offered an alternative way of looking at it. Without the trees losing their leaves, they wouldn’t be able to grow cherry blossom next Spring, or the Cherries in the summer after that.

The nature of ‘impermanence’, and how things are always changing was a simple yet profound insight for someone like me, who’d had something of a chaotic start to life, with 5 different families and homes in my first year alone. Perhaps a first glimpse of the Mindfulness traditions that would continue to be a foundation of my life.

As a grown up, I notice on a sunny Autumn day how you can see more of the blue sky with fewer leaves on the trees. Nearer winter, you can even see the birds more clearly on sparse branches. I practice this stubborn optimism to nudge out the winter blues!

It’s all about where you focus your attention.

I later discovered the creators of Bod, Joanne and Michael Cole had Taoist beliefs. Bod has a slight look of a monk, now I think about it. Serene face, bald head & a stubborn optimism.

As a kid growing up in Birmingham in the 70’s I’d not heard of Taoists or Buddhists, but this stuff made sense to me. Perhaps I was a ‘Bod-ist’ long before I set foot in a Buddhist temple years later. (Excuse the pun!)

Finding the wisdom in the everyday is where the gold in life is. It could be from Kids’ TV, a line in a favourite song or film, something your 6 year old says when the cat gets sick, or watching the dog relish every sniff on a morning walk, discovering the same park anew; all things can remind us of these simple but profound truths in life.

Seemingly endless huge changes in all of our lives over the last 18 months for sure, but hopefully if we look up, still some glimpses of blue skies to tide us through the colder months ahead.

Having changed the clocks last night, tonight’s earlier darkness will be noticeable. But we can keep our focus on the light, whether it’s candle lit pumpkins for Halloween, or scouring Youtube for a clip of Bod, perhaps that Cherry Tree episode…

Photo thanks to Unsplash, as our pumpkin is already roasted & half eaten!