Emotional Health - Life is calling

Loss & Life

This week has seen me enjoying a bit of space to simply be, in between the usual commitments.

What a treat.

It has enabled me to do a little processing of recent events such as the sudden death of a young woman. This has also tapped in to the death of my spiritual mother.

I was aided in my ability to engage on a heart level with these deaths via a book a friend lent me. It is called Love, Interrupted, by Simon Thomas. It is an incredibly honest account of Simon’s experience of losing his wife, the mother of his child, within the space of three days. It is quite simply, heart rending.

It serves as a painful reminder of how utterly cruel life sometimes is as well as illustrating the subsequent suffering that such heartache inflicts upon those experiencing it. Not just the death but all the losses that ripple out afterwards; the loss of how it was, the loss of no longer being like others or having what others have. It is almost a series of mini deaths of life as it was known, that follow the initial death.

And, due to the lack of honest conversation around the reality of death or loss, those losses that follow often go unnoticed. At least they do by those not experiencing them. This can really add pain to a process that can already feel unbearable.

I haven’t quite finished reading this book yet and part of me doesn’t want to. Ironically I’m avoiding it ending! I just find it so refreshing and reassuring to read of someone being so honest about the harsh reality of death, the losses that follow and the messy impact it has upon the human heart.

It is rare for someone to resist the urge to down play such a process for fear of whether others can handle it. But I have only the utmost respect for the writer’s courage in sharing this deeply painful, isolating, lonely, angry, messy experience whilst also managing to find moments of utter beauty and joy as him and his son continue to create new ways of living alongside the ongoing loss.

For anyone wanting a better understanding of how grief can be, I would totally recommend this book.

Death and loss are of course an unavoidable part of life.

As much as we don’t like to talk about it, death will come to us all and none amongst us know when.

And whilst death is the most obvious form of loss, it is most certainly not the only form. Loss comes in many guises, lots of which are not visible or acknowledged. Loss may come via the ending or death of a certain situation being what it once was whether a career, health, relationship or anything else. It may also be present via the loss of something that has not happened or been the way we have wanted or anticipated.

Loss infiltrates our lives subtly by continuously.

Things change, situations change, we change.

Death happens.

Life happens.

Change is unavoidable.

And loss runs throughout these realities.

I was reflecting upon these themes during my precious free moments this week. Loss and death are such inevitable and yet painful aspects of our experience of being human.

And yet, all around us, new beginnings and life are equally at work. They don’t cancel one another out or render each other any less meaningful or painful, they simply co-exist.

It has given me great pleasure this week to see the new buds of life that continue to appear in my garden at the moment, from roses to sweetpea’s to clematis. They symbolise such hope. For whilst parts of life are constantly ending and changing, my garden reminds me that new parts continue to emerge and develop.

I love this.

Well, I love the new growth more than I love the old endings and loss! But I do love the way both make up the whole picture.

It is not always easy when there is a loss of the way things were but the more we allow ourselves to engage with the emotional reality of this, the more we become able to notice and embrace the new life that begins to peak through.

I’ve experienced clear moments of the spark of life and joy erupting back through me this week following the stunned haze left by the recent death.

I’m grateful.

Death and loss keep happening.

But so does new life and growth.

Fun Therapy

It turns out that all the research I did in to which holiday to book, paid off.

With time off being so precious a chance to recharge, the last thing I want is to get it wrong and come home still tired.

But I can honestly say that where I’m usually eager to return to my beloved bungalow, this time I’d had so much fun that I was seriously reticent over returning to my responsibilities.

I wanted more play time.

The holiday started as soon as I embarked upon my train to the airport. One of the NZ family who had been visiting was getting the same train in to town to pick up the Eurostar to Paris.

I was headed straight for Gatwick to catch a plane.

My destination was Samos. This is a small, yet still unspoiled Greek Island which is quite simply, stunning.

As soon as I arrived at our resort, I was blown away by the beauty of the bay. The colour of the sea was ever changing but always beautiful. And as water is one of my favourite things, I was pleased to immediately sample a lovely pool at the Hotel too, just a few short steps from the sea itself.

I was surrounded by my favourite things; a swimming pool, the sea, the sun, great people and good food. I had everything I needed. In fact, I didn’t set foot in a shop all week. Utter bliss!

My greatest dilemma of a morning post a holiday sized breakfast, was whether to set myself up at the pool or the beach.

Divine.

The beach often won out just because it was so utterly mesmerising simply to gaze out at. Plus the sound of the water gently lapping at the shore was akin to a sense of God stroking my hair. There was something SO comforting about it that I never tired of it.

Whilst I rarely sat on my lounger, on the odd occasion I did, I promptly fell asleep!

But it didn’t happen often for the call of the sea and all you could do on, in or by it was too delicious to resist.

I started off with kayaking which I seldom seem to do these days. And it was great to swim the length of the bay and back. Such a treat for the eyeballs compared to swimming lengths in a pool!

I also joined a few others for a walk down to another bay, this one a sandy affair.

Another day, I cycled a different route to the same bay for another dip in the cooling waters.

And a little later in the week, I cycled to a white chapel overlooking another secluded bay where I took yet another dip.

One morning, I dragged myself up for a 7am paddle boarding session. I hadn’t tried it before and have been wanting to for some time so I thought sunrise was as good a time as any to try! I wasn’t disappointed. The silence alone was sacred.

Having thrown myself in to everything on offer including the early paddle board, I’d totally worn myself out by my mid week so I had to take a very early night!

Then after watching someone having a windsurfing lesson, I decided this was a great opportunity for me to have a go. So I did! Apparently I have good core strength and balance as I was able to stand up and windsurf a little on my first lesson. The pilates IS paying off!

In lesson two, after repeatedly falling in the sea and repeatedly clambering (unelegantly) back on to the board, I finally managed to fly across the sea for some distance before landing back in the sea’s cooling embrace. By which point, I noticed how far I’d come out and that I had no clue how to windsurf back the other way!! Fortunately, the lovely young man who had taught me swiftly appeared in a motor boat to tow me back.

After that, said youngster took myself and another lady out on a cat (?) where I could simply laze on the side enjoying the view and the breeze.

Such fun!!

And that was just the fun of the daytimes.

Each evening at 5.00pm and 8.45pm, I attended dance lessons where we learned social foxtrot, the waltz, the cha-cha-cha, the rumba and the jive.

It was just an explosion of FUN, FUN, FUN!!

I did skive off a couple of 5pm classes as I wanted to lounge around in the evening sunshine but otherwise I attended the lot, learned heaps and laughed masses!

The entire experience was a treat of the highest order.

Total fun therapy!

And now of course, it is time to plan the next one!

The Lies of Labels

This week as I listened to people, I noticed a clear theme emerging.

It is … labels.

I’ve always had an aversion to putting labels on humans. After all how can we possibly reduce something so complex and beautiful as a human, to one or two words. Labels cannot ever convey the depth or wonder of any individual being.

Yet I have also been challenged by someone to consider that certain conditions which can be viewed as labels actually help to inform and educate others as to what an individual lives with. This can be experienced as incredibly helpful by individuals with certain diagnoses when it alerts others to the challenges of said diagnosis. I can see this.

Yet what I am noticing more and more is that we all pick up labels early on in life. They are inevitable. They appear within families where siblings are compared against each other. They appear within peer groups and pretty much anywhere there are humans because we are all so prone to comparing and competing with one another rather than recognising our own value in its own right.

Sometimes, another gives us a label and sometimes we adopt them ourselves. Whichever way round, these labels are usually derogatory as opposed to complimentary in nature.

My problem with labels in this respect is that they appear to stick with some of that hardcore superglue that renders them almost impossible to remove. These can be like those price stickers which are SO annoying to get off.

And the issue with these labels for humans is that they stick to our insides; our minds, hearts and souls where they continue to influence the way that we view ourselves and consequently how much of ourselves we are willing to acknowledge or offer to others or even life itself.

In fact, I would go as far as to say that each derogatory label can serve as a bind or a chain that restricts and restrains us from attempting to step out in to new areas of growth and exploration.

For example, if we are labelled as being no good at x, y or z and an opportunity presents itself in that area, these internal labels may whisper, ‘but you’re no good at that so there is no point in embarrassing yourself by trying’. In this way, they act as restraint that pulls you back or at the very least, renders you stuck or unable to move towards said thing.

Now, of course there are things that we are all good at and things that we are not and we need to be honest about that. But that honesty works both ways as in not just being honest about our own limitations but being equally honest about our own strengths.

It is important that we examine these labels we wear because if we believe a lie about our true potential, this may prevent us from trying things that we are actually able to achieve with the right support.

Each and every one of us is made up of way more parts than any single label could ever hope to convey. By adopting a limiting label, we effectively shut down the parts of ourselves that do not fit the label, thus losing parts of ourselves and reducing our wholeness.

Hence I do not like labels for people.

They are life limiting.

They imprison us in to reduced versions of ourselves.

And the earlier these labels are taken inside of us, the more work is required to remove and replace them with more life giving, accurate ideas about ourselves that allow room for growth.

And so, we must know ourselves well enough to recognise who we really are in order to reject others misplaced notions of who they think we are.

Knowing the truth about who you are, sets you free from the labels that others may put on you. Not just free to know who you are and who you are not, but free to live that truth out, unrestricted, not merely in words but actions too.

Now that’s a freedom worth pursuing.

The Garden as Teacher

It’s finally become warm enough to start planting up my garden. I love this time of year when I can start growing all manner of flowers and vegetables.

As I reflected upon this I realised that my approach to gardening has changed. My first years foray in to gardening consisted of buying the plants fully in flower.

I wanted an instant garden.

But my instant garden very quickly began to teach me that which appears in an instant, seldom lasts. Because I discovered pretty quickly that flowers that are bought in full bloom die off. At which point I thought that I had killed them and would have to buy more!

Fortunately, I was educated that when you continue to look after these plants, and to remove the dead parts, in time, new flowers come through. It could otherwise have been a very expensive first summer of gardening!

I learned a lot that first year.

First off my beautiful display of flowers was almost completely destroyed by slugs and snails. I had to learn how to protect the new life that I was nurturing from that which was attempting to destroy it. After trying all the eggs shell, coffee grinds, beer traps and picking them off after dark tricks, I did resort to pellets.

I also had to learn about seasons and cycles as well as which plants like lots of sun and or water and which don’t. There was a lot of trial and error.

But quite unexpectedly for me, right from that first year my garden began to teach me about trust, patience, care and timing.

Especially when it looked like nothing was happening to a plant on the surface yet when I continued to care for it, in its own time, new flowers began to burst forth.

I began to see parallels between the plants and us humans. Even when we feel like nothing is happening outwardly or we cannot see signs of progress, when we continue to apply appropriate self care, things do happen beneath the surface. For in time, we too begin to bloom again.

I do so love to watch what is happening in my garden.

Each morning I take my cup of coffee around the garden to survey the new life. Each new bud or flower evokes immense pleasure!

Since that first year I’ve experimented with a bit of fruit and veg. Some of which was successful, others not.

But consistently, it has taught me about watching and waiting.

Now, in my fourth summer of gardening, I have noticed that although I buy a few plants that are already in bloom, I have mostly bought little bedding plants that will take weeks of continuous care before they show any signs of their potential beauty.

I am no longer seeking the instant garden for I am immensely enjoying the process of nurturing, watching and waiting for these plants to flower.

Because although sometimes it is great to have something instantly, more often than not, there is more pleasure to be gained from the process of creating and waiting!

There is a level of satisfaction and reward within this that does not arise from the instant gratification approach.

The end result is all the more enriching for the waiting.

And the increased ability to wait does of course go hand in hand with an increased ability to trust and to recognise and respect timing.

I continue to enjoy all that my garden teaches me.

So much of which, can be applied to life itself.

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!

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.