Firstly, may I wish you all the most magical and precious Winter Solstice. Today is a precious day. May it cause all our hearts to open courageously.
Secondly... I am so grateful that you subscribe to this blog. Your support means so much to me! THANK YOU!
And so, here's my latest story, if you like it, please do share with friends and family.
Here's to a joyful Christmas for everyone. And may 2016 be our bravest most kindest year yet.
I once lived in an apartment, on Ladbroke Grove in London.
There were 3 rooms, 4 if you counted the small loo by the front door, the seat of which was permanently broken. It was cosy. It was warm; it was a good home. I slept some of my deepest sleeps there, meditated with friends there, danced alone in the sitting room there and set up a company that lasted a year there.
It was also the place that Monday Meditations were born, which meant that every Sunday, I’d send out an email to anyone I knew, who either already meditated, had definitely mentioned an interest in it, or was perhaps, potentially thinking about it saying tomorrow: my door’s open, please come. Lets meditate. Read More
I’m sitting here, at my desk, on a dark cloudy November afternoon. Little Human is asleep and the dogs are sprawled out, wherever sprawling has lead them. The house, is otherwise empty. To the left of my computer, is a glass of vegetable broth and to my right, a tumbler of red wine. Read More
However, despite the initial persuasiveness of the wine, (it’ll be such fun! Drink!), it was a promise with a tepid life span. In fact, it collapsed quite soon after first emerging. In other words, when faced with wine or broth, I’m going with the broth...
If I had a home, I'd invite you all to come.
We'd go outside, light a fire, around which we'd stand, sit and lie. Some of us, would hold hands and some of us would not. But their hearts would burn, as if they were.
And we'd watch as the fire grew bigger, its flame flickering upwards. Our eyes would shine, glistening with the flame and slowly, slowly, we'd start moving. Our feet would be first. Stomping, stamping, our hands would tingle as we stood close to one another and as our hearts came alight, more of us would stand and reach out for another hand.
And the flame would grow taller, warming the chill of the night and the stars would come out from the clouds and the rain would start to fall. So that as the earth started to weep, we'd continue. Standing, sitting, perhaps lying. Some of us holding hands and some of us, if hand holding isn't our thing, being brave enough to let our hearts roar all the same. Read More
If I had a home, I'd say bring your children, bring your husband, wife, lover, partner, guru, sister, uncle, everyone. Bring everyone.
And the more that would come, the larger the flame that would burn. Every skin and every colour and every age and every tradition and every inclination would be there and more and more hands would be holding; because why not?
And as skin touches skin the cure would burn. And as the fire burned we'd begin to sing.
There's nothing like thinking you're the only one, only to have this wonderful thought quickly rebuffed.
"You drive me mad." I say to boyfriend.
"You drive me madder." He replies.
But the thing is, as far as life and the people in it are teaching me, when we struggle with something in another, we're really struggling with what it reminds us of what we've repressed in ourselves.
In other words, the part in me that is being driven mad by boyfriend, could just be a messenger wanting to tell me something, but my ego is a bit worried an’ all, so instead of welcoming it in and making it a cup of tea saying, well then: tell me ALL. It’s sort of hissing at it:
Go…I'm fine, just as I am. Don't need no changing!
And then it does this sort of mad merry dance:
I am what I am! It declares. And I’ll stay as I stay! Feeling very pleased with itself that it’s sent away whatever it felt threatened by.
The only thing about that, is that it’s a very lonely place to be… Read More
I learnt the worlds worst swear word when I was 8 years old.
“You promise that you won’t tell your mother I told you?” My mother’s linguistically generous friend asked me as we walked along by a field of corn at the top of the South Downs.
I shook my head, vigorously.
“It’s cunt.” She said.
I was in awe. It sounded a powerful word, an awesome word. I had to share it with my friends...
And so I did.
The following Monday morning back at school, huddled around a desk I said it out loud.
“Where did you hear that word?” The voice of our teacher roared. I looked up to see a pair of rouging cheeks, bulging eyes and an increasingly frozen body. The end of the world seemed near, although for her or me I wasn't quite sure.
“My mother’s friend told me it.”
And then... more silence.
This is my latest story:
"May my mind come alive today to the invisible geography that invites me to new frontiers, to break the dead shell of yesterdays, to risk being disturbed and changed. May I have the courage today to live the life that I would love, to postpone my dream no longer but do at last what I came here for and waste my heart on fear no more." John O`Donahue
There are those of us who are connected to our bodies and those of us who are not. If you, like me, are one of the ones who have to fight to be in our bodies, then this latest story is for you. Because life is precious and the more we drift and spiral out to join the cosmos, the more we miss of the moments happening now.
And now is where it's really happening... This is my latest story: Read More
Recently Little Human and I moved to the country.
Don’t you get lonely? Friends ask.
Yes and no.
Yes in that we’re still finding our feet and we’re exploring the lay of the land, and oh women oh women where art thou?
But also no...
This is my latest story...
A question I struggle with, is when do we say yes thank you so much, when people want to help, your support right now is invaluable. May I have lots of it please! And when is it time to say you know what, I've got this one, but thank you...
Often it is my mother who bears the brunt of this confusion. So mum, this piece is for you x
"I want to know if you know how to melt into that fierce heat of living falling toward the centre of your longing." David Whyte
Under Pressure: Keeping It Simple
Last September my partner and I decided to separate. And in many ways that period last year was the most potent experience I have yet had of feeling like I was falling apart. That the builders came in after my ex moved out to do some work to the house and so turned my home to a thing of dust felt apt. My mother however, sensing that our home of debris was not the calmest of places to be living offered us the spare room, my old room, in her home in battersea. And so Little Human and I relocated from North London to South London. 9 months later we are still here!
What is with the eyes? We just can't look into them and if we do, we like our glances to be fleeting as can be. Last Sunday morning in Paris I went out to watch the city wake, walking with the sun on my face. I walked past a father walking his toddler, I smile. The man looks away.
Some Friday evenings, I'll cook, i'll move around the house and the next day make breakfast and juices and the kitchen becomes a mess and I don’t make the bed and clothes are on the floor and I don’t tidy a thing. The house looks extraordinarily dishevelled.
It’s really quite delightful. Read More