Life is calling - Reflections on life, death and the bits in the middle

Death Strikes

Following my fun fuelled holiday extravaganza, I crash landed back to reality.

I eased myself back in to my responsibilities over a luscious lunch in a coffee shop where I caught up with my email and voicemails.

What I could not have anticipated was a message informing me that an individual I had worked with for six years, had died three days after their ending session. They were 30.

I could not comprehend it.

I listened to the message three times before promptly bursting in to stunned tears.

How could it be?

I was utterly shocked and saddened.

Initially I thought I would hold my practice as planned for two hours that afternoon and then allow myself to absorb this news. But I quickly realised that was ridiculous and most certainly not practising what I preach.

I cancelled my practice.

And I called the one who had left me the message. The person in question had awoken one morning in pain and died within the hour. The funeral service was being held the next day.

I couldn’t contain my sadness and my stomach immediately began having pains, partially from the big lunch I’d just had and partially from the shock and emotion of this news. My body was struggling to digest everything on every level.

I cried out to God, ‘How could you allow it?’.

I just felt overwhelmingly saddened by the unlived life I had imagined they were being launched in to living as they left my practice that last time.

Some people really commit to doing the work and this was one of them. Subsequently they experienced the benefits and left the process in a very different place to where they started it. And they had their whole life ahead of them.

Or so I had assumed.

My strongest defences; reason and rationale immediately did what they do. They reminded me that I know that life can be cruel and unfair and that it is all too often the real givers of this life that get taken early or unexpectedly. They added that none of us are entitled to a certain amount of life as much as we like to imagine we are. Every minute of every day is a gift we cannot take for granted.

In short my defences attempted to divert me from the emotion.

The shock.

The pain.

The disbelief.

The sorrow.

The whole, but how can it be? I only saw them a few short weeks ago; smiling and being who they were.

How could they no longer be here?

How could their life with so much ahead be wiped out in an instant?

Whilst my head knew there was no explanation, no reason, no sense to be made of the situation, my heart still sought it.

As I spoke to my best friend who I trained with, she asked me, ‘Jo, are you angry with God?’. I said quite possibly, but I couldn’t access it if so.

Later that evening as I drove to meet another friend, I discovered that yes, I was actually very angry indeed. I was angry at the injustice, the cruelty, the loss, the senselessness.

I realise God doesn’t have to justify Himself to any of us but at that moment, I felt angry about that. I wanted to understand something that quite simply cannot be understood. It can only be grieved. And I wasn’t about to deny or suppress the anger aspect of my grief.

The service was the next day less than twenty four hours after I heard.

The tears came as soon as I saw the hearse and they didn’t stop coming throughout the service. I hid away at the back.

It was beautiful and full of humour. It reflected the character of the one whose life it celebrated. But it was of course desperately sad too. Such an enormous gap would be left for so many people. I couldn’t begin to imagine their loss.

There was a wonderful line read out at one point which jumped out at me. It was a reminder that when grief comes, not to ever push the feelings down or away but allow them to come and to go as they need to. I loved the simple truth and wisdom of these words. For we must indeed learn to welcome our sadness as we welcome our happiness, for each are fleeting emotions worthy of our acknowledgement and compassion.

Anyway, nearly two weeks later I am still struggling to get my head let alone my heart around this.

My stomach continues to play up, reminding me that I am not leaving enough space to digest or process anything. After this weekend, I’ll be in a position to have more space and I’m looking forward to that.

Death is such a painful reminder of the fragility of life. None of us know how long we have. Any of us can be taken in an instant.

The challenge to balance living life to the full, with a refusal to ignore the painful aspects of grief, remains sharper than ever.

I’ve stopped asking God why and started asking Him where He is in this. I still don’t understand and I never will. But I see His hand right from the moment I heard the message. I could see two friends in the coffee shop who I had intended to speak to after finishing my messages. I could speak, cry and have a hug with them before leaving. I saw Him in the subsequent phone calls and meetings with friends.

He was there when the person unhesitatingly responded, ‘I’ll be there’, when I asked them to accompany me to the service. He was there in so many other ways too. Whilst I will never understand why these things happen, I know that when I’m willing to really look, I will find God right there in the midst of whatever with me. And that knowledge and experience humbles and breaks me every time.

Death has a way of forcing a re-evaluation of that which is important in life and that which is not.

All it really seems to come down to is trying to be as loving and kind as possible to the people around us, including ourselves, especially when they or we are hurting. To attempt to spread something life enhancing that recognises the value of each human being and the fragility with which our lives hang. And to give of the gifts of our truest selves, without holding back.

For what else really matters?

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.

From striving to surrender

One of the major challenges of being someone who is passionate about so many different things is how to focus and distribute my energy wisely.

There are so many different things I want and love to do.

Yet I only have a certain amount of hours per day as well as energy per hour. And I’ve been attempting to squeeze too much out of myself to invest in all of my passions at once.

The result of which has been that I’ve ended up running around at a ridiculous speed without really making serious progress on anything or even enjoying the process.

What folly!

Of course this is standard modern day living. But I don’t want to ‘live’ at such an exhausting, unsustainable, frantic and counterproductive pace.

It was becoming particularly pronounced over these past few weeks where it was seriously beginning to wear me down.

A quote I once read kept appearing in my mind.

‘God does not assign us an overload’ – by I can’t remember who.

Hmm.

So why was I assigning me an overload?

Similarly, I kept thinking about the scripture in the message version of Matthew 11:28-30.

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me – watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly”.

I love this, especially ‘the unforced rhythms of grace and learn to live freely and lightly!’

Yes please!

And every so often I get in the place where I experience these things and I think yes!! I’m in the God led sweet spot and what could be sweeter. But before I know it, I’ve veered off God’s course again and on to my own. Striving, forcing, rushing and stressing replace surrender, trust and being in the flow.

Sigh!

So having been partially aware of this for some time now, I decided to examine the situation more closely.

As I waded through my confusion about what projects to focus on, I discovered that actually, God gave me a very clear remit back at the start of the year. On reflection, every time I had worked on something in line with that, there was that flow. The ideas and inspiration appeared as and when I needed them. Sure, I had to do my part and apply myself but things flowed.

Yet every time I raced off down my own path on to something else, there was the exhaustion and frustration of striving and tail chasing.

Time to revise the game plan.

Again.

As in, back to what I should have been doing in the first place.

Having parked that for which it is not time and refocused my energy on where it should be, my sense of order has been restored, a sense of movement re-instated and my previously AWOL peace, joy and enthusiasm, are back in town!

Yay!

Now to try and keep them there!

Because, no matter how hard I work to recover more space in my day, life and home, when I’m investing in things that are not in season, my efforts become a source of frustration rather than fruit.

How grateful I am that God is so patient with me!

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.