Sunday, 11 January 2015


  • Recovering from a bout of Winter bugs
  • Watching trees sway in the rain
  • Eating simple food
  • Finding extra blankets
  • Drinking Cinnamon Tea
  • Leaving a mountain of laundry, to wait for another day.
Weekending with "Pumpkin Sunrise"

Thursday, 8 January 2015

On seeking an Authentic Creative Voice.

"There is one thing in this world you must never forget to do.
Human beings come into this world to do particular work.
That work is their purpose, and each is specific to the person.
If you forget everything else and not this,
there's nothing to worry about.
If you remember everything else and forget your true work,
then you will have done nothing with your life."

- Rumi  (from The Soul of Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks)

The above quote found at a recently discovered gem of a blog, "Myth and Moor"
Terri Windling is a writer, author, publisher and artist who lives in beautiful Dorset.

Her recently published post on perfectionism and the creative process resonated with me deeply.
The concept of writing for one person in particular, rather than a crowd, felt like a revelation.

Practically speaking, at the moment, I have narrow margins of time and space with which to write.
I have found that writing in semi stream of consciousness mode makes good use of these small but precious increments.
However, this "approach" often means that other people's writing voices get caught up in the flow of my own.
The voices of friends, general internet commentary, books that I've been reading etc, end up mixing and merging with my own words and intentions.
There is certainly a difference between honouring the voice, feelings and paths of others and absorbing them whether emotionally or creatively.

The idea of writing (for or to) a particular person could very well help me to channel my own voice more definably.
I think this is something I was alluding to in my last post.

The idea of emitting my own frequency, rather than being imprinted on by others is something I've always found challenging.
I like to merge, empathize and reach out rather than stand out.
I've thought of it as a compassionate and modest way of being but it is also cowardly on many levels. It is a way of not fully embodying my life as I often defer to someone else.

Maybe it is because it can initially seem arrogant to assume your frequency has any importance or consequence.
I can't jostle, or strive to put my own stamp on anything whether physically or meta physically. There is too much responsibility involved with that and as a result too many consequences. It is not a game I want to be a part of.

However, I've come to wonder whether the idea of emitting our own frequency, by which I mean our own uniqueness, authenticity, truth, spirit, story, or all of the above, is actually the only truly valuable or lasting thing we can impart.
It is not based on the premise of wrangling control or seeking power, it is simply letting be what is. It is getting out of the way of the truth.

In the current climate everything has been reduced to commodity status. Even people have begun to brand themselves.
Ideas, opinions, products, and people all hustle for control, as they attempt to offer a vision for others to buy into either financially or ideologically.

The value of a currency is determined by the number of people invested in it.
We can invest our consciousness in anything and increase it's value.

A problem arises if our consciousnesses become conditioned to unquestioned collective norms and we absorb that which is not authentically true to ourselves.
When we invest in something such as a hierarchical system that undermines our authenticity and our spirits we contribute to the energy that is stifling us.

When this happens collectively en masse self serving, pyramid systems develop.
The many focus on one; the point at the top, and the structure solidifies.

But life can be more open, flowing and full than this. All it takes is enough people to believe that we can be true to ourselves without conflict. In fact it might be the only way to avoid it.

Our gift is our truth, our true voice and the resonate frequency it emits.
I hope to learn to use mine, carefully, honestly, humbly and a little more bravely.


Tuesday, 6 January 2015


I found the above quote
on the Angel Wings and Herb Tea Facebook page.

This year I hope to 
stand more steadily,
Barefoot on bare earth.

Feel a belonging to the country of my story
my native truth
my inner being.

I don't need to assimilate
Or unlearn my mother tongue
To understand the riddles of a new country.

I can speak my own language,
Sing my own poetry
and write my own story.

Simply, authentically, quietly my own.

Because that is the gift I was given
And the only one I can return
That will be of any worth at the end of the day

I hope only to stand on my own little wild scrap of earth
without fear or dismay
and connect fully and compassionately with others as they stand on theirs.

If only I may grow: firmer, simpler, quieter, warmer.



Monday, 22 December 2014

Christmas Market and Wintry Days

After an especially eventful couple of months Christmas shopping had been left to the very last minute.
We tend to keep Christmas as simple as possible anyway and last minute is our specialty.

With five girls gifts are small but meaningful and often handmade.
We thought Christmas market would be the perfect place to find something unique and special.

The pictures are from Nottingham Christmas Market.

The city centre was choc-a-bloc with colourful stalls, an outdoor skating rink, mulled wine, roast chestnuts, fair ground rides and twinkly lights.


Yes, we got one piece of each.

 The market square was busy but not frantic. People happily milled about browsing Christmas fare.


Right in the middle of all the hustle and bustle was this beautiful crib scene.
A corner of stillness and hush.


Preparing wares for our own local Christmas Market.


Evenings lit by fairy lights, fire light and candles.

Delicious owl cookies made by a dear friend.
With almond flakes for ears and beak and chocolate buttons for eyes they were almost too sweet to eat.

Evening carols and a church lit by candles.

Morning practice and stark winter sunlight.

Salt and glitter snow scenes

...and paper chains...

Scruffy animals cosying up on the bed.

Rainy afternoons and candle light embers.



Photo credits Officially Emmy