jo.loach@gmail.com - Life is calling

The search for space

Modern day living can be so exhausting.

The nonstop activity coupled with the nonstop bombardment of information makes for an exhausting combo. One that is particularly bad for our mental and emotional health. I think I read somewhere that nonstop stimulation is the equivalent physically of working out in a gym continuously.

As in, we’re just not made to have our eyes, ears, minds and hearts continuously filled with words, pictures, noise and general stimulation. It is quite seriously bad for our health. At least it is for mine. The older I get the more I seek out the sound of silence and the surroundings of the sublime so freely on offer in nature.

However, whilst I released myself from corporate captivity along with striving for more materialistic stuff, many moons ago, I do regularly fall in to the trap of not carving out sufficient space to be.

I try.

I take frequent trips to the coast because I feel like I can simply be and allow my soul to breathe there. In fact, as I discovered courtesy of the blue lagoon a few weeks back, being by any kind of water slows me down to a delicious and welcome standstill that allows me to process all that is within rather than mindlessly filling myself with more and more.

In fact I read an article last week that my neighbour posted for me. It was titled ‘Vitamin Sea’. In it a Dr Sarah Brewer says, “Coastal zones, in particular, benefit wellbeing. An ocean view, for example, evokes emotions including longing and awe. Other blue zones such as lakes and rivers have a beneficial impact on stress, blood pressure and lifting mood…”.

It’s official!

What I have discovered through my regular jaunts to the sea is actually backed up scientifically. Although I can’t help but think this stuff is just good old fashioned common sense really. I’m sure I can recall reading a similar article on what is now called forest bathing which to you and I means walking in naturally tree clad green zones!

Of course we didn’t have to be told these things years ago as folk naturally spent more time outside and less time inside in front of the modern day time and health thiefs: TV, boxsets, gaming and the internet.

Anyway, as I pondered all these things I noticed that I was allowing the TV to command way too much of my evening space. I was left with a sense of every piece of space being filled by something. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was left desperately searching for more space.

And so, over the bank holiday, I made a decision to reduce my time in front of the TV, I said no to a few things, I parked a few things I wanted to do but that could wait, I stripped my commitments right back and I gave myself the gift of time and space to simply be. No rushing, no striving, no excess doing, no filling myself up with anything else, just an abundance of space to be.

The result was on a parallel with holding your breath under water for a long time and then arising to take a huge gulp of breath. Utterly life giving!! And unexpectedly Pringle-esque. The more I tasted that space to breath, the more I wanted!! I just couldn’t get enough of it. And so, I’ve had regular and extended periods of simply being throughout this week.

It has allowed me to catch up with myself again. Instead of filling my mind and heart with more TV, internet, reading or doing, I have consciously chosen to be still and allow myself to process what was backed up inside me rather than hurling more in.

Novel but necessary.

It’s a bit like our physical bodies. We can’t just throw in more and more food. We have to stop eating to allow our bodies to digest and process what is already there, to relinquish what is not needed and make space for the process to continue. In fact, the latest diet favourites include fasting plans that give your body a total break from digesting food, to effectively allow the system to re-boot.

Having created more space generally, I also found the energy to create more physical space by tackling all those stress inducing areas of my home that are too full. From the wardrobe to kitchen cupboards to the shoe rack and my dvd’s. I got in to brutal mode and removed a whole heap of stuff, resulting in much rubbish as well as a few sacks for the charity shop.

It felt good and I felt lighter.

But as satisfying as creating more space in the house was, it was the extra mental and emotional space that felt truly liberating. As this last week, I have effectively made the space to allow my mind, heart and soul to re-boot.

And it feels good!

Flourishing

Last weekend I gave a talk about flourishing.

I think this is an important subject because I happen to believe that my Jesus did not endure what He did on that cross for you or I to limp along in life settling for mere survival. And I say this as someone who did just that for the first thirty years of my life. But I’ve since discovered that life does not have to be with that way. Sure, the crap parcels don’t stop coming but it is possible to continue to grow, heal, learn, laugh, cry, dance, rest and ultimately to stay ALIVE whilst living!

Whilst it has undoubtedly taken much blood, sweat, tears, help and support to move from where I was to where I am, I now know that such a transition is entirely possible. Hence I want to share this with others as I believe that moving from survival in to flourishing is on offer to all willing to make the investment.

I’ve been reflecting further upon this theme this week especially as various clients have ended their counselling process and discussed how they plan to continue implementing their learning.

The key thing that has clearly emerged is the importance of intentionally investing time and space in looking after ourselves. As it is all parts that make us whole, this means we need to actively apply appropriate care to our physical, mental, emotional and spiritual parts of ourselves. This is a non negotiable if we want to remain as healthy as possible, let alone to flourish.

And it is not just time to notice any part of us that may be struggling in some way and therefore in need of extra attention, but also the time to proactively and consistently engage in nourishing activities as well as times of stillness, to maintain good health.

How easy it is especially with the invisible parts of ourselves to overlook this need to plan for, invest in and apply such thought and action to our health.

We live in a world where we are constantly bombarded with excessive amounts of information, much of which demands a response. Perhaps this is why we often overlook our mental and emotional health until the physical body steps in by manifesting the internal needs via physical symptoms which we cannot ignore.

And those of us of a more introvert persuasion tend to need more times of stillness and silence than our more extrovert peers. I am no exception. One of my biggest challenges is to find sufficient times of stillness to regain energy, vision, inspiration, clarity and direction for all the many, many things that I love to do.

Yet I know that if I want to continue to flourish, I must regularly check in with myself, be willing to stand back and survey the big picture, reassess and implement changes where necessary then trial, review, refine and repeat.

Without a commitment to do this, I fail to notice when I have come off track or worse still if I have become stuck going around in a circle. What I fail to notice, I fail to address.

This reminds me of many years ago during a family outing where my dad, brother and I ventured off along the river. When we discovered a goat along the way, we thought it would be great to stroke it! It didn’t agree! It promptly lowered its horns and ran at us! We ran the other way but ended up running around in circles with the goat in hot pursuit, looking like something out of an old Benny Hill sketch! Until finally and exhaustedly, I realised that the goat was on a rope and we could just step outside of the circle!

All too often, people come to see me because they haven’t yet realised they can step out of their own circles!

By failing to spend time reviewing where we are or where we are going, we can become stuck on repeat, even when it leaves us desperately miserable. We may then even fall in to the trap of indulging in destructive behaviours in an attempt to dull the pain. Here begins a deeper cycle of prolonging the very actions that are causing the pain by deadening the self to endure it.

This is NOT flourishing.

Planning in time to check in with ourselves can save us much time and trouble in the long run.

Just as looking after or running a house or garden or business or car, takes time, energy and money, so too does running a human.

An investment of time on the self is probably one of the most fruitful things we can do. At least if we want to keep living, growing and flourishing. And even more so if we want to be part of supporting others to flourish too.

And that’s what I tell folk when they remark upon how often I go away!

A glimpse of summer

What a treat this recent weather has been.

On the first day of my week off, I walked up to a local garden centre to meet a friend for what turned out to be THE most delicious green soup. Like ultra tasty. It was also accompanied by equally nourishing conversation, all enjoyed under God’s great sky.

After the refuel, we took a casual meander through the local woods where we ended up overlooking the blue lagoon. The stunning blue backdrop of sky combined with the sun shimmering off the water was the only incentive needed to scramble down from where we were to where the water was.

As we drew closer, the wind dropped, the sun beamed and the invitation to enter the water was simply too appealing to decline.

Whilst I whipped off my boots and socks and paddled around in the cooling waters, my friend whipped off everything and I do mean EVERYthing and proceeded to go for the whole body immersion approach. Yowsers!

‘Is it as cold as it looks?’, I enquired.

‘Yes, even more so’. He replied complete with a very manly roar and a proclamation that, ‘it’s good to be alive!’.

Agreed!

Indeed it is.

Especially on days like those spent amongst the majesty of God’s great playground.

In fact, as we lay on the shore surveying the scene of shimmering stars bouncing off the water, there was a distinctly summer holiday-esque feel to the moment.

Free from schedules, responsibility or time checks, how wonderful it was to simply stop, look, listen and savour it all.

Fan-blooming-tastik!

Following another day of freedom to roam the countryside at leisure, I spent the next day in London where we celebrated a friends’ 60^th with a trip to the Freud museum followed by a delectable lunch. Yum.

After one more day of wild field roaming, it was time for my trip to the Isle of Wight with a friend.

What a truly stunning place.

A lazy if uncharacteristically hot first afternoon was spent at a Donkey Sanctuary. Noisy buggers when they get going.

I was delighted to discover a gift shop and tearoom on site; two of my favourite places. Here I indulged in a super tasty cream tea.

After checking in to our accommodation we headed straight to the beach where the scenes we entered were fresh off a postcard.

An early start on Saturday morning enabled me to take a horse riding lesson on the beach under the glow of the morning sunshine. Just fabulous.

I opted for a leisurely meander back to base along the coast where I stumbled upon a quaint cafe and gift shop overlooking the harbour. I whiled away some time sipping my tea and savouring the view.

One of the things I love most about the water is the way it gets me to simply be still, to immerse myself in the sight of the sun upon the water. It never loses its appeal.

The next day saw us off to the National Trust site of the Needles where we took a chair lift to the beach and a boat ride to photograph the Needles. Although the rock after which they were named has long since been destroyed by a storm. So they don’t look anything like needles.

Back on the beach I tentatively stumbled across the stony beach to paddle in the sea which obviously saw me coming and produced an enormous wave which soaked my dress!! Fortunately, the whole ‘hottest Easter in 70 years’ thing meant it was quick to dry.

It was a wonderful weekend made even more so by the fact that it was Easter. Beyond the eggs and holidays, it is a time of such hope and renewal that in spite of all the trials and tragedies of life, we can still experience the fullness and richness of all life has to offer. How grateful I am that Jesus endured what He did that we don’t have to settle for some half hearted life but can instead embrace and enjoy it all.

The gift of appreciation is totally priceless.

Monday saw us encounter a Roman villa, a small art exhibition, more tearooms, more food, more gift shops, a waterfall and a straight forward journey home.

How wonderful to make time to play, rest and explore.

The Seaside Soul Massage

As I had almost two clear, work free days this week, I decided to take another trip to the coast.

Leaving straight from work on Monday evening, I arrived at my B & B in time for a cup of tea on the balcony. Here I savoured the feel of the cool evening air on my skin and the sound of the waves in the distance.

My soul began to breathe easy again.

Tuesday dawned cloudy and rough looking. Perfect full cooked breakfast weather. Such an utter indulgence to have your breakfast served to you. Lush-tastik.

Following a post breakfast period of horizontality I coaxed myself out in to the day. After a leisurely walk along the coast, I took up residence in a sea facing pub to savour a hot pot of tea whilst devouring the newspaper. The arrival of the lunch time crowd signalled time for my departure.

The wind was pretty biting so when I discovered a sheltered area from which to enjoy the warmth of the sun, the sound of the sea and the feel of the sand, I engaged in one of my favourite pastimes; watching the clouds do their thing.

Unfortunately the pot of tea I’d just had dictated that I moved on before I wanted to. But a short distance on I was delighted to discover a lifeless looking sea front cafe was actually open. And there was no one in it other than the owner. Perfect! More tea was consumed along with the luxury of unhurried reading.

As I was now nearing 4pm my stomach was making demands for more fuel.

A short walk in to town allowed me to source some fresh cod and chips which I devoured in a beautiful flower filled park. The wind was rather reducing my pleasure of feasting though.

So, when I caught myself buying a bag of 3 hot donuts I decided to return to the shelter of my balcony back at the accommodation. From here I savoured the donuts (yes all three) washed down with yes, more tea. Dee-licious.

I decided to take full advantage of the increase in daylight by taking another walk the other way up the coast. I was met with the most stunning of seaside sights. God never fails to leave me in awe of the beauty and wonder of His creation.

After this I returned to my balcony to sit and absorb the last of the evening sunshine. Glorious.

When Wednesday morning’s alarm sounded what is becoming an increasingly irritating noise, I resisted the temptation to roll over for an extra hours slumber. Instead I dragged myself out for a pre-breakfast run. The training for the half marathon isn’t going to happen whilst I sit around inhaling chips and donuts.

My reward was the delight of discovering it was a beautiful, blue skied, sunshine shimmering off the sea kind of a morning. What a stunningly fantabulous scene to be met with.

Back at my B & B I had time for another breakfast and a spot of writing on the balcony before checking out.

As the sun was twinkling enticingly over everything I took another very windy walk along the coast.

After which I was relieved to stumble upon another seafront cafe where I could enjoy some respite from the wind and sip a warming mug of tea.

And then it really was time to return to the car for my homeward journey.

How I love time out to nourish my soul.

And I don’t have to wait long for a proper stretch of time off.

The Grief Bomb

No sooner had I written my blog about Mother’s Day when an internal grief bomb exploded. Not exactly surprising.

Initially it appeared in sparks of severe irritation at every little thing that I was doing. Whilst I did stop to ask myself why I was so angry, I moved away from the question before finding any answer.

Instead, I threw myself into preparing for a weekend away where I was attending a training event on loss!

I felt smug and sensible when I got in to bed at 9.30pm in preparation for my 6.30am departure. Whilst I was probably asleep by 10.30pm, I awoke at 4.30am and remained awake. A fact that I felt decidedly unsmug about.

However, after a straight forward journey, I had time for a Costa coffee and a read of the newspaper before my course. What a treat.

The course venue was situated by a beautiful harbour where the blue skied sunshine made me temporarily wish I wasn’t committed to a day inside.

Anyway, the course was fascinating.

Whilst death and loss aren’t the most light hearted of subjects, I am a firm believer that the more we are able to engage with the reality of death, loss and endings, the more we are able to engage with the reality of living, love and new beginnings! And when my time for death comes, I certainly want to know that I have given and received as much of life’s opportunities as possible!

As I listened to some of the speakers talk about how we humans can process and work with our grief, I was reminded of my granddad. Having recently signed up to run a half marathon to raise funds for the hospice my spiritual mother benefitted from, I realised that my own granddad had also been in this hospice. On his last day, he waited until his family were gathered around him before he gave himself to death. In that respect it was a good death; he chose his moment, surrounded by those who loved him.

But in remembering this, I realised that although this happened over twenty years ago, I have not grieved properly. It was as if I had totally blocked his death and his life, despite him being such a significant and beloved part of my childhood.

As I attempted to hold my sadness down to focus on the course, I became more and more exhausted and irritable. It really is so exhausting suppressing emotion yet equally exhausting to engage with them!

By the time I left for my overnight seaside accommodation my eyes were stinging with fatigue. Although I managed a pot of tea and a slice of carrot cake on the pier, I had to go to bed and surrender to sleep straight after.

Whilst Sunday dawned with a bright blue sky and beautiful sunshine, my own temperament was quite different!

I loved sitting in the sea facing cafes enjoying my breakfast and newspapers but I could not stand the increasing presence of other people! I was holding in too much pain which was threatening to slip out in the form of general horribleness!

Fortunately for everyone in the vicinity, I managed to find a quiet place sheltered from the wind but in the sun, from which to devour my newspapers, coffee and sea view. Heavenly.

But of course, underneath my irritable horribleness was the raw pain of ungrieved, grief. And it was only once I arrived back home that I could allow this grief to pour forth once more. After which I felt decidedly lighter and less prone to snarling or spitting.

I remembered that I needed to be kind to myself (and others!) when the grief comes and so I took some time out of my day on Monday to simply be still in the sunshine of my garden.

I also let my key people know that I was in a painful space.

And by Tuesday, I felt more like a human being and less like a wounded animal and I could therefore resume my full responsibilities again.

The grief does of course continue.

But so does life.

All I get to choose is whether I will be kind to myself when I am hurting. My attempts to do so included a trip to a local garden centre where I enjoyed the feel of the sun on my skin, the sound of birdsong and the sight of the flowers. I was even joined by this cute little fella!

As I reflected on the ever changing weather this week; glorious warm sunshine on Monday and cold rain on Tuesday, I realised that this was in direct contrast to my ever changing emotions of misery on Monday followed by a renewed calm on Tuesday.

Like the weather, my emotions come and my emotions go and the more I accept the inevitability of this and ease up on myself accordingly, the more quickly they pass and the better it is for everyone involved!

As if to seal my experience, I saw a rainbow outside my house on Tuesday evening, reminding me that whilst the weather constantly changes as do my emotions, God remains my one true constant throughout both internal and external changes.

How very reassuring.

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.

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.