Mother’s Day

This is a day that can bring such joy and such sorrow.

As we approach it, I am able to recognise the change in my grief for the special lady who was very much a mother to me over an eight year period.

Whilst the first anniversary of her death was only a few short months ago, I am aware that something has shifted in my grief.

It was during my time in New Zealand whilst having a day on my own at the beach that I sensed her presence afresh.

I could see her big blue eyes smiling mischievously at me and remember her enthusiasm as she encouraged me with all that I do. I recalled how utterly thrilled she was for me when I stepped out in new areas to trial things that I am passionate about. I remembered how she would tell me with such excitement when she had heard something linked to the work I do. I could feel the force of her belief in me when she encouraged me to keep going and to keep trying new things.

In essence, I could experience her mighty love for me afresh.

I was reminded of the way she was with me; she saw me; good and bad, she gently manoeuvred around me when I was spiky, she walked with me through the worst years of my healing, loving me even when she didn’t understand, she bounced and she beamed when she saw me step out in meaningful areas and overall, she simply saw me, when others didn’t.

I thought back to how she was just there. When I needed to talk or to pray, to rant or rejoice, she was there at the end of the phone always ready to hear and to share in what I had to say.

She was there for me.

And she loved me.

In spite of myself.

She gave me the gift of unconditional love.

What greater gift is there?

And whilst writing these words brings fresh tears to my eyes, the grief has changed.  When I feel the deep sadness at her physical absence, I no longer feel like I am in a well of grief that I cannot imagine ever finding my way through or out.

Instead, now when I cry, I see her beautiful smiling face and the love in her eyes and I know that she is telling me not only that I am doing ok and I am going to be ok, but also that I am going to continue finding my way to do all the things I believe in.

It is as if she is still here albeit in a different way as her love for me continues to live on within me, encouraging me every step of the way and spurring me on to keep stepping up and speaking out for all that I believe in.

I no longer feel lost in the pain.

I feel loved and supported by her through it and beyond.

In her last days of lucidity, she looked me in the eyes and told me, ‘Jo, you are going to do great things’.

Even in her last days she was still encouraging and loving all of us around her. In the face of her death, she continued to be as she was in her life; scattering her seeds of love and of life.

What a woman.

What a gift to me.

Her belief in me knew no bounds and though I would much rather she were still here in person, I now sense her presence, her comfort, her enthusiasm, her laughter, her playfulness, her kindness, her patience, her excitement, her belief in me and most of all, her love for me, still living within me, still encouraging me every step of the way.

Wow!

And, it wasn’t that she wasn’t with me last year, it was just that I was in too much pain over her physical death, to be able to access the internal wellspring of love that she had fed in to me over the years.

But now, whilst the tears still come, they also bring a smile about who she was and who she continues to be, to me.

I loved her and even more amazingly, she loved me!

A gift so generous and so profound that now it is my turn to pass that gift on to as many as I can in my lifetime. Whilst acknowledging that I will continue to mess up along the way! But I hope I will continue to learn and to apply all that I can about what it really is to love.

Is there more precious a gift than that of a mother’s love?

Or more painful a loss than absence of it?

This mother’s day, whilst I still mourn her absence, I will also rejoice in her ongoing love, presence and influence within my mind, heart, soul and life.

I will also rejoice in a recent meeting with my own mother following a long period of estrangement.

Mother’s day evokes all manner of emotions for us all. And all of these are worthy of our attention, compassion and love.

Be kind to yourself this Mother’s Day, whatever it evokes for you.

And where possible, celebrate those who have shown you a mother’s love, whether biological or otherwise, whether still with us or having gone on ahead.

Trust & Timing

My attention has been drawn to the above over these past few months.

Although there is a time for all things under the sun, sometimes we don’t recognise or trust in the importance of timing.

During our lives there are times of rest and healing, times of preparation and times for bearing fruit and flowers.

These are the cycles of life.

As I look around me at this time, it gives me great pleasure to see the bright yellow daffodils, the blooming blossom trees and the new green buds of life.  I am reminded by the cycles of nature that all things happen in their own timing. For each cycle is dependent upon the other cycles in order to reach completion and repeat.

It is no different for us humans in so far as we too go through cycles and seasons.

Nature is dependent upon certain conditions to reach their cycles of fruitfulness and flower blooming. Hence some of the flowers bloomed a little early because whilst the calendar did not state it was their season, the conditions of unusual warmth enabled them to produce ahead of schedule.

Apparently, the daffodils were out so early this year that they are unlikely to last until what is also a late Easter.

We too, require certain conditions as well as the right timing, in order for us to be fruitful.

This is where our ability to trust is so crucial. When we don’t trust or recognise that we may be in a cycle of healing or of preparation, we may push or strive to produce fruit that is not yet ready to be produced.

We need to identify where we are, treat ourselves accordingly, do our part to prepare and trust in the timings of what we await.

When the timing is right for a thing to be borne, the way opens up before us. The red light changes to green and doors that had appeared to be welded shut, spring wide open.

We cannot force anything to happen ahead of its scheduled timing. Neither can we stop something whose time has come.

It is a waste to spend our time and energy attempting to force something that is not yet fully formed. It is better to invest our time in doing our part to prepare for that which will come forth in its allotted time.

Trust is key.

There really is a time for all things.

We would be wise to trust and to rest in this truth.

The need to be loved.

This theme has been bang on my radar of late.

As I prepare a teaching on the call to be loved by God, I notice more and more that at the root of most of our internal struggles is a lack of love, or even a perceived lack of love.

What I mean is that the need to be loved in words and actions is the most fundamental human need in existence.

This is true for every single one of us irrespective of gender, age, faith, class, education, bank balance or anything else.

It is our experience of being loved that shapes our belief about whether we are loveable.  And our belief about our love-ability affects how much of ourselves we offer to others and to life itself.

As children we watch the adults around us to learn about love. We notice whether our family tells us in words that they love us or whether they demonstrate their love with physical affection; hugs or kisses.

We watch and we internalise messages about what this says about our own love-ability.

We do not realise as children that the way in which our parents or others love us is usually a reflection of how they have been loved as opposed to a reflection of our love-ability.

All too often I hear of families where children as young as six are told they are too old for hugs and kisses. As if the need for love is not legitimate or life-long.

But the truth is that we all need to be loved throughout our lives. 

We need to know that there are people around us who know us well enough to see our flaws but who love us regardless. We need people who don’t ask us to pretend or hide parts of ourselves but who see and love us as we are.

This need to be loved is a basic but critical human need.

When it is not met well enough, it can leave us unable or unwilling to offer our most authentic selves or gifts to the world around us.

This is because it is love that gives us the agency to take the necessary risks to become who we are capable of becoming.

It is love that stops us from settling for or becoming stuck within a life that does not reflect our true nature or potential.

It is love that enables us to live fully.

None amongst us can choose the family we are born in to or whether they have worked through their generational issues enough to be able to love in a healthy way with words and actions.

But, every single one of us whether our experience of love through family or the world at large, has been good, bad or indifferent is being called to be loved by the God who loves us all with a love like no other. He is the only perfect parent in existence and He seeks to love all of us; His children.

His is a love that see’s and knows every thought, feeling or action we have ever had or ever will yet He continues to love us in to the best versions of ourselves.

His love propels us in to pursuing all that we are able to be and to give to this thing called life.

It is a love that sets us free.

Who doesn’t yearn for that kind of love.

Sand, Sea-gazing and elasticated waists

Following a full on seven weeks of post NZ work, play and not enough rest and I found myself summoned by the sea again.

How could I refuse?

After an uneventful journey down, I was met by the sight of a decidedly dark and gloomy looking seafront.  Not to be deterred, I found myself a suitable sea gazing spot from which to fill my boots with a freshly served carvery. You can’t beat a roast that some other bugger has cooked and cleaned up after.

Feeling eager, I ventured out for a post lunch stroll along the beach.  It was enlivening!

I couldn’t resist using an abandoned stick to write a title in the sand for some teaching I’m preparing. Fun!

But it wasn’t long before the weight of my dinner along with the force of the wind saw me briskly succumbing to the call of my seafront B & B.

Inside, I got in to the perfect Sunday afternoon position; elasticated waist pj’s on, kettle on, TV on, phone off and snacks and newspapers at the ready.

As it was I got to spend the afternoon enjoying a young Sean Connery in ‘You only live Twice’, as well as having a view straight out to sea.

Divine!

A very leisurely, relaxing afternoon and evening followed.

The next morning the east coast sunshine burst through the curtains of my room. Of course, I started it with the obligatory full monty.

The sight of the sunshine shimmering across the sea was too much to resist.  I’m not sure where Freya was but I was pleased she wasn’t here.

I ambled down to the sand where I proceeded to slowly meander my way in to the distance, stopping only to take in the sight, sound and smell of the sea. Sense-sational.

How I love free time to be beside the sea.

I relished the luxury of sitting down to read a newspaper each day, with the added bonus of a sea view.

Simple treats.

I ate lovely food and I spent a lot of time staring out to sea and revelling in the freedom from all responsibilities.

As ever, it was over too quick.

But, the next trip is in sight!

Winter Sunshine

What a treat to have temperatures up to 20 in February!

An unexpected bonus!

One that inspired me to take the bike out the shed, pump the tyres up and actually go cycling. Fabulous!

How different life feels when the sun surrounds us. 

Breakfast at the garden centre

Last Friday I cycled out to a local garden centre where I proceeded to set up my office at one of their outdoor tables. What a delight to be outside amongst the plants, roaming hens and glorious blue skied lushness. I certainly wasn’t prepared to be sat inside unnecessarily.

Saturdays’ sunny beams even inspired me to get out in to the garden to remove all things dead to make room for all things new. Thus my garden is now a blank canvas ready for all I will plant within it during the new season.

As I worked, I was accompanied by the sound of others in their own gardens all around me; children playing, older children mowing lawns and all generally enjoying the opportunity to be out in the fresh air following months of central heating induced stuffiness.

The air felt light and the atmosphere jovial.

I even had a mid gardening cup of tea and snooze in the garden complete with the cat on my lap. In the name of developing my art of doing nothing!

It’s all about the simple pleasures!

Anyway, where the earlier days of the week had started hazily, Sunday’s sunshine summoned me out for an 8am run. And it’s been a few months since I’ve done one of those! I didn’t even manage one during my second summer in NZ!

Post run, I savoured my morning coffee on the patio where the warmth of the sun upon my face was most un-February-esque but oh so welcome.

As I surveyed the results of Saturday’s efforts in my garden, I couldn’t help but consider the importance of making space in our life for a new season to come forth.

By the same token, I was reminded of all the adverts on line at the moment about de cluttering our homes. Apparently this is the latest on trend thing to do. A sign of the times that we have become so rich in stuff (if poor in time) that we have to make a point of stripping back the stuff that otherwise threatens to own us.

Anyway, the current theme appears to be a reminder that we must make space for what is to come by relinquishing what it is no longer in season and thus serving as an obstruction to the new stuff.

I was struck by the way we seem to be mostly willing to accept and invest in these processes when it comes to our houses or gardens, even calling these clear outs ‘therapeutic’.

Yet when it comes to the ever so slightly more important business of dealing with ourselves, we don’t seem so keen. We don’t appear to make the connection between the need to deal with our old stuff and to grieve our losses that we can make space for the new growth and life attempting to come through.

Perhaps it is not so easy or satisfying to expend our energy on that which is invisible. Yet to invest in sorting through all the old experiences and corresponding thoughts and feelings is to promote growth and healing that releases new emotional energy for that which is to come.

We cannot really ignore all the old dead stuff in our gardens or the stuff bulging out from our wardrobes or cupboards because we can’t avoid seeing it.

How much easier it feels to bury, cover and deny the internal stuff that equally demands our attention.

Are our hearts and souls not even more important than our houses and gardens?

The winter sun may have disappeared for now but the call to tend to our internal decluttering remains, as we await the real arrival of the next season.