Come back to your senses

Coming back to my senses has for many years now been an important part of my self-care. There is a certain feeling I experience that tells me it’s time to be in nature or just resting at home. It’s time to come back to me, to my feelings – to align myself again. Switch the world off for a while.

There was a time when Sunday was considered the day of rest. This makes perfect sense to me. One day a week to be still and catch up with myself, get off the conveyor belt of life, feel what I am feeling, check in with myself, nurture myself.

It seems that good self-care is very much about being honest with myself about what I am feeling, and accepting myself in that moment. Then, lovingly navigating my way through it.

Feelings, self-care and self-love go together.

Of course, it’s often painful, and sometimes excruciating in all of our human messy fallibility.
Sometimes though, feelings are such a warm glorious companion, I wouldn’t want to be without them.
Would you?

We dehumanise ourselves when we choose to live in our head instead of our heart.
We say no to the rich tapestry of feelings available to us and then experience meaninglessness and emptiness.

In his book  ‘Care of the Soul – a guide for cultivating depth and sacredness in everyday life’  Thomas Moore writes that when soul is neglected, it appears as symptoms. Obsessions. Addictions. Violence. Loss of meaning.  When we care for our soul we more and more experience deep satisfaction and pleasure. Our life becomes more and more meaningful and fulfilling life. This book irrevocably changed my life for the better.

Wishing you a more soulful life,

We can never get enough of what we don’t need

Every day I use this cup.

There are plenty of other cups in the cupboard.
This one is my daily go to cup.
What about the other cups?
Why not cycle through them – enjoy some variety?

There is something about this cup that is very special.
I love THIS cup.
I almost don’t need any other cups really.
When I first saw her at Alfresco Emporium she leaped out at me. Captured my attention. Love at first sight.
Then I looked at the price.
Why then did I buy the cup?
This cup is beautiful and was clearly made with a lot of care,  fits very well in my hand,
and holds just the right amount of liquid.
It soothes my soul’s need for beauty.
I loved her from the first moment.
I still do and most likely always will.
err why is a cup a she?  look at those beautiful curves.
I am reminded of the saying “We can’t get enough of what we don’t need”.
If I had applied some kind of reasoning or logic about the price of this cup, I would have created more of what I don’t need – an object to use devoid of love, and ultimately wasted my money. False economy.
Instead I chose the lifetime value of love and beauty.
With this cup I am partnered in writing these letters to you, and writing music and stories for children, and giving lots of love out into the world.
So, was buying the cup at the high price worth it? Absolutely.
For many years already it has brought me joy every day, and will continue to well into my future.
With this cup I bring joy into my world, and hopefully your world too.
Wishing you lots of joy,

Sound and Memory

It was the sound of the postman’s motorbike that did it.
I caught myself smiling. Somehow I had developed the association of pleasure with the postman’s delivery.
Had he brought a letter? Was it something arriving that I had long been waiting for? A cherished card from a dear friend?

Today it wasn’t for me. I was sitting in someone else’s room looking out the window to the leafy street.
Soon I saw the postman scurrying forward and away from me.
Emails are certainly functional, quick and efficient.
A handwritten letter or a card has become something rather special.

Earlier this year I asked a long time friend to send me a card to my new address.
I wanted to experience the joy of surprise and also to see if he would.
I asked him not to tell me if or when he had sent it.
One day later that month I had consciously forgotten about my request, and hearing the postman’s motorbike brought the memory back to me.
My instinct was to check the letterbox.
Sure enough, there it was.
Handwritten and full of love and care.
Don’t you love receiving a real letter?

If like me you love receiving real letters, I recently read ‘Paris Letters’ by Janice MacLeod. A treasure of a book about how she transformed her life and somehow found her way to become the artist she dreamed of. These days she still creates painted scenes illustrating her letters set in her day to day Paris. Perhaps you’d love to explore her book ‘Paris Letters’ or her other book ‘A Paris Year’. I loved both of them and was truly inspired.

Lots of love,