Q: If menopause had been framed as sacred how would I feel now? A: Like I was stepping into an era as an honourable rite of passage, witnessed and welcomed by women and ancestors. Revered and respected by younger generations who do not fear it, or me as I enter this...
If in doubt, breathe out.If standing in a shopping line,or stuck at a red light If in doubt, breathe out. If hounded by your children who keep calling your name, or waiting at a bedside desperately hoping your Mum would say the same If in doubt, breathe out.If you're...
Though I need the compost of prior years though it is in fact unavoidable that I must sit in it Though I can draw on intent and toil and turn the mess to eek out the very best nutrients of that time It is compost now it is moulding and mulching now both decomposing...
In walking on a summers day we may sometimes spot in the morning, the sun and the moon are both in the sky and that signals some kind of intergalactic balance. If this is coupled with a earworm of recently read words that tumble over as footsteps take us onwards, it...
'Ruins are not empty. They are sacred places full of presence'(John O'Donahue: Anam Cara). If we look we can see ruins everywhere. We see what is being brought to ruin right now. Impending ruin collects again. Adding to the ruins of our past. Rubble piling up in the...
the year we wished we could pack up banish into the loft or post off and discard to a distant land how to make sense of a time where the only gift was darkness the forest whispers 'do nothing' the next year will come will always, steadily, reliably wrap around this...
We got matching yellow hats that day. From Wilko’s I think, plus a hand towel each. Oh, and we dropped by a charity shop, rummaged hastily... ‘There must be a couple here somewhere?’ - emerging exuberant with our finds! One over-sized, simply enormous, fluffy jumper...
The cavalry is not coming. I remember telling myself this. Distress can do that to you. Give you falsehoods. Make you forget. In the end though, I found a way to ‘find my own grit, in my own time’ (a beautiful phrase in Katherine May’s book ‘Wintering’)....
There came a day when I was driving and for no known reason, and rather embarrassingly, I thought of the 00’s song ‘Hero’ by Enrique Inglesias. (https://open.spotify.com/track/24Gxm7Eh7tO83E26LG0CsY ) Or at least a few lines from it. Almost against my better reasoning...