cooking up a tasty life
Being open to the wonder of every moment without straining, without making it into a big thing by calling it a ’spiritual practice’ and making it something to strive for and do perfectly is a big challenge for me. Just letting go and being in the moment, open and relaxed, is not something that comes to me easily. But the course of my life these last few months has made it easier to see a way. Read the rest of this entry »
These last couple of weeks, I’ve been practising effortless wonder. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m OK at the wonder part, but the effortlessness leaves a lot to be desired.
Because of my questionable health, I have been paying more attention to my breath and the ways I am holding my breath and my muscles. I have discovered that I really do an awful lot of holding on and holding in. I put a lot more effort than is necessary into the simplest things, like washing up, or typing, or even just breathing. I seem to always be bracing myself against some unknown and unexpected disaster.
There are events from my childhood that explain a lot of this. But this strategy of self-defence that I learned three decades or more ago, is no longer serving me. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s a large contributing factor to making me ill. It is time to let go. I need to literally let go of all this tension. Read the rest of this entry »
As we begin to plan for the Big Adventure* in detail, this is a year of dreaming for us. As well as the aspects of insulation and heating systems, I also dream the life I wish to lead once we move in to our new house. I dream details of my home, my garden, my business. I am dreaming a life.
At the same time, I believe that we are each part of the Great Collective that makes up this world. Just one element in the living being that is the Earth. We humans have a unique gift among our fellow beings: we are the Earth become conscious. What we think, what we dream and long for, feeds into the reality we create for ourselves and ‘all our relations’. I believe it is our responsibility to think and dream beauty and peace for our world. Read the rest of this entry »
At this darkest time of the year, I feel empty. Taken apart piece by piece, and scoured clean. After four months, I am still in pain, and many things that I once identified myself by are gone. I feel suspended, hanging by a single thread. Waiting for the tide to turn, for the light to return at the Solstice.
Back in August, I was City Lit’s long serving Dutch tutor. Now I’m not teaching Dutch for the first time in sixteen years, and may never do so again. Back then, I was not in top notch condition, but my body was not stopping me from doing things. Now I have been unable to work for months. Then, I had a part-time office job and felt useful. Now they’re coping just fine without me. Then, I had this belief that my spirits would heal me, and I would never need anything like antidepressants. Now I’m taking just that, hoping it will help with the physical pain.
Bit by bit, my image of myself has been taken apart. I’ve been reduced to the bare bones. What is left is not what you would expect.
Read the rest of this entry »
While doctors are scratching their heads over what exactly is wrong with me and what to do about it, I am living with constant pain of varying intensity. The uncertainty about what is causing it and what to do or avoid to help myself get better, or at least no worse, is the most trying part of this whole thing.
The illusion of certainty, the idea that life is predictable and we have a certain amount of control over it, has been demolished quite effectively. I can’t tell from one day to the next how I will feel. At the same time, I am denied a lot of the comforts that would normally help me deal with that uncertainty, like cake, or a plate of fish and chips, or a glass of alcohol. I am being challenged to let go of some non-food related comforts too, and to taste all the flavours of life as they come to me, undiluted. I am being asked to stay awake and aware.
And because of the pain and uncertainty, I am learning something that I don’t think I would have otherwise. I am learning to be gentle to myself. Read the rest of this entry »
What was the incident that told me, as a young child, that I was not good enough? I certainly don’t know. All I do know is that from a very young age I didn’t feel like I belonged with the other children, that I was somehow not like them. That I needed fixing.
Another thing that I have carried with me from an early age, at least from my early teens, probably longer, is an interest in religion and spirituality. And I have always been certain that following a spiritual path would lead to me being a better person. It would do the fixing.
There is no denying that my spiritual practice has given me many insights and untold treasures over the years. It has been a beautiful journey. But it took a very ordinary secular counsellor to help me come to the conclusion that I don’t need fixing.
With my recent unresolved health challenges, I am learning that lesson all over again. Read the rest of this entry »
Three days after I wrote the last post, so full of plans and hopes for the future, I was in hospital with an acute attack of pancreatitis. I am told that’s one of the most intense kinds of pain known to man. The doctors don’t know why I had the attack. And they are scratching their heads about why I am still in pain now. I’m waiting for more tests.
Suffice to say that the last couple of months have not gone according to plan. Instead of turning my energy outward, towards the needs of the world, I have been forced to look inward again. From necessity, I have had to take care of myself, to be with this pain, to work towards healing. So far nothing I have tried has significantly improved the pain, although acupuncture seems to have made a big difference in my energy levels.
Not knowing why I’m in pain, or what to do about it, is challenging. It makes me come up against demons of fear, anger, and endless frustration. I am being constantly challenged to face up to these emotions, to shed the illusions of certainty and stability, and to let go of some a lot of the comfort and protection that I have hidden behind for most of my life.
Something big is happening. I can feel it. Something fundamental has changed this year. It’s like a chrysalis of my life is cracking and a butterfly is about to come out. That’s how big it feels.
I have learned so much in the last six months or so. First there was the realisation that I had been identifying exclusively with the hurt and scared child part of myself, which made it impossible to acknowledge and own everything that I have achieved as an adult. When I realised that, I stopped feeling like a fraud and started to feel like a competent person who can, and does, make a difference in the world. That was one of the biggest light bulb moments of my life.
“Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are.”
Chinese proverb
So often, I feel a painful tension in my shoulders, a hardness in my jaw, and a clenching in my stomach. Until recently, I would have said that I don’t know where all this tension comes from. I have so much to be happy about, so much to be grateful for. Why is it that most of the time I feel tense, and I find myself fighting against reality?
Lately, I have realised what that fight is about. It is about disbelief. Despite the Spring’s great insight, I still don’t quite believe that I am good enough. I don’t believe that I’m spiritually mature enough to be a priestess, that I’m good enough at my job, or that I’m generous enough to be a good friend. I just don’t quite believe it. So I am constantly guarding myself against the moment that I am found out, and constantly striving to be different. Hence all that tension, trying to be who I think I should be. Trying to solve the problem of not being good enough.
Just a week ago, I wrote to a friend:
“I am not a problem that needs solving. I am a human being who needs loving.”
In order to live the life I dream of, I don’t need to change myself. All I need to do is love myself, accept all of who I am, be gentle with my own vulnerable soul. When I no longer reject aspects of myself but hold them gently, like a loving mother would, I can relax. When I tell myself that there is no need to be afraid, when I gently hold myself, I can feel the tension drain away.
Without all that tension, who I am feels much larger. When I relax, my heart opens to embrace the world, with its beauty and its pain. I feel the joy of living. I become who I am.
All it needs is giving to myself the gentleness and love I would give to anyone else.
With thanks to Oriah for posting the quote above on her Facebook page.
I have been too busy. To my own horror, I realised that this is the sixth weekend in a row that I’m not spending at home. Somewhere, between training courses, visits to my mother and spending time with my tribe, my routine got lost. And I very much need my routine. Without it, I start to lose my daily spiritual practice and without that I soon start to feel frazzled.
I have promised myself a break, and I have vowed that tomorrow some sense of normality will return. In the meantime, from my frazzled state, I’d like to tell you a story from my last couple of months. I hope that you will enjoy it and that it reminds me of my dream and what it takes to make it come true.
Well then, here it is:
If any of you are planning or dreaming about a ceremony to mark a significant milestone in your life or that of your community, or simply as a celebration, I am available to help you put it together and hold the space or officiate on the day. The same also goes for tarot readings and shamanic journeys.
There. I’ve said it. I’ve thrown it out there. Now I’ll just see where it lands…
Just a few days ago, a number of realisations happened in quick succession. If I can hold on to them, I may have reached something of a breakthrough.
Much of it came from a very powerful conversation with my counsellor. I started seeing her in the summer, specifically to work on some old emotions that I still seem to be stuck in. What I discovered last week was how much I still identify with the wounded little girl that I was 30-something years ago. So much so, that everything I have achieved since then, didn’t seem real. For so long, I have felt that the confidence, competence and the modicum of wisdom I display to the world are something I am faking, and they’re not really mine. Because inside I feel like I’m eight years old and scared.
There is a reason why traditionally people would go outside and bang pots and pans at the time of an eclipse to scare the shadow away. These moments of alignment between Earth, Sun and Moon always have an uneasy feel for me. There is a little chaos out there, as things that are usually predictable and reliable lose their way for a little while.
This morning’s total eclipse of the Moon was no different. I couldn’t see any of it as the English weather was set to cloudy. But I could feel it just as strongly. A sense of dread crept across me, as the shadow of the Earth crept across the face of the Moon.
I had planned my morning rite as a kind of cleansing ceremony. I would meditate on the things that hold me back and then allow them to be wiped away as the shadow was wiped from the Moon. But as I sat there, as I let the feelings of unease grow, the images that came to me brought another kind of healing. As I looked into the shadow, I saw myself looking back.
It feels like I’m not doing very well at the moment. Tiredness has overtaken me. It is the dark time of the year and I do not have enough time to rest. So the tiredness creeps into the weaker parts of my body, causing pain. It creeps into my mind, closing me off from the spirits that bless me.
When the last leaves fall, when the slanted light of late autumn catches the yellowing leaves of the Oak and turns his crown to gold, it is time for us to follow the call of our bodies for rest, for more sleep, for time to look at our dreams and the life that lies beneath the everyday.
Failing to do so, turning on artificial lights and keeping on going, regardless of the length of the Sun’s day, makes us tired, grumpy, sometimes even ill. But what can you do if you are paid to teach evening classes until 9pm, five hours after the Sun has set?
It’s no easy task I have set myself. It’s quite difficult to let go of my little addictions, especially since they are such innocent looking habits and the opportunities are always there. But at least I am looking at them, avoiding some of them some of the time. Progress is being made.
What helps me to stop my fingers as they reach for the radio ‘on’ button or begin to type ‘facebook’ into the URL box is this imperative that came to me a week or so ago:
“Turn towards the uncomfortable feelings. Don’t look away.”
As the trees shed their leaves, I am aiming to let go of some things that no longer serve me. There are some habits and rituals that I have become very used to but that distract me from being the person I would like to be. As the winds of autumn strip the trees bare of old growth, I would like to sweep clean my life of superfluous distractions.
As I am typing this, I am looking at blood red Virginia Creeper trailing down across the French window at Westacre. Windfalls dot the ground under apple trees laden with fruit. The crown of the big oak tree across the lane is coloured with hints of gold among the green. Meanwhile, at home, I am struggling to gather in my own crop of apples and grateful that the sunflower I planted in the spring has at last produced one golden bloom.
A few weeks ago, our neighbours moved out. They had lived in the house next door for nearly 30 years, and we’d been their neighbours for about half that time. This quiet couple whose children had left home have been replaced by a family with two young boys, one of whom seems to very much enjoy shrieking at the top of his voice. The adjoining wall isn’t very thick. You can hear people sneeze next door. This is going to be very different.
Different also is the fact that I will be going to work in an office for three days a week. Except for a couple of months back in 1994, that hasn’t ever happened to me. I’ve always been a freelance teacher working from home and my clients’ premises. Now I have colleagues. And a desk. And thirteen tutors with all their courses to look after. That’s a big change.
Perhaps it’s because I’m an only child, but I like to do things on my own, my own way. I would rather re-invent the wheel than find out how someone else has done it before me. And I certainly don’t like to ask for help. I even get slightly offended when a nice gentleman asks me if I need help lugging my heavy suitcase up the station stairs. Of course I don’t need help. I can do it myself, thank you very much!
For many years, I had the same attitude to my spiritual life. I was going to do it myself, on my own, without anyone’s help. I was going to find my own unique relationship with Spirit without the input of any other human being, or even any spiritual power. So I started delving into my soul on my own, battling my demons and seeking the light.
Often I have wondered why we can’t just be like animals. Or like trees. They never seem to have any difficulty finding out what they are meant to do with life. They just get on with being fox or crow or birch.
Our huge human brains make it more complicated for us though. That, and the luxury of free choice that our Western culture gives us. Unlike our ancestors, we aren’t born into our parents’ trade, or into a tribe where we belong from the day we are born. We have to make our own path in life, and for some of us that can make it very difficult to find a community where we feel at home, or a role in life that fits us.As we are searching for a home for our souls and our creativity, our confidence can easily be knocked. It can be hard to find our place in life, especially when the role that is naturally ours is not one that easily fits into our culture.
For years now, I have know that I have a calling. I could feel the goddess tugging at my bones, asking me to be hers, to be her priestess, for want of a better word. For years, I have struggled to work out what that means, day to day. What does a priestess actually do?
I did all kinds of things. I went on training courses and attended workshops. I worked tirelessly to make myself a more spiritual person. I longed to be a bridge between this world and the world of spirit, a guardian of the gateway. I dreamed of teaching people how to find their own connection with the Otherworld, and with their sources of strength and inspiration. And still I could not work out what I had to do each day to get me there.
“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” – John Lennon
Just as I was planning a quiet summer with plenty of time to contemplate and reflect, to do some DIY that could help me practice remaining present with everyday tasks, life surprised me. I heard of a part-time vacancy at the adult education college where I do my language teaching work. It is a great place to work, with friendly people who I already know and respect. And it is a step up in my 18-year teaching career. It gives me the job security and the kind of structure in my life that I have never had but that could potentially be very good for me. I’ve spent a lot of my time this week working on my application.
But still I am conflicted. If I got that job, there is a real danger that I would let that 3-days-a-week job take over all of my life. It would be hard work, and I would have to do some of my teaching on top of that. So it could easily turn into a 4-day-a-week job with a 5th day where I feel tired and don’t get around to doing much, and a full weekend of social commitments. Which would leave no time for my relationship with my goddess. The devotion she is asking for would wear very, very thin.
What a Solstice! I remember a lot of dull grey Solstices, and the odd changeable one. I remember a Solstice ceremony with thunder and rain. But this year we are blessed with bright blue sky and hot sunshine. It really feels like the heart of Summer.
I am fortunate that I am able to celebrate this Solstice in style. After a very intense 3 months of work, I have time off. Even my social calendar has miraculously cleared for a week or so. And I have given myself a 5 day internet fast: no surfing the internet for 5 whole days. Which, I have to say, is sheer bliss and is giving my brain the rest it needs and deserves. All of these things mean that I really have time to notice and appreciate every moment, to savour every detail of life as it happens. I am celebrating life as the world around me blooms and flourishes.
These last few months, since my 40th birthday, the goddess has drawn me into a closer relationship with her. This goddess hasn’t got a name. She is older than the stones. She is starlight and sunlight, and the darkness that holds these. Our far ancestors honoured her with temples that let in a shaft of light from the rising sun at certain significant times of the year. She has whispered to me: ‘I am your bones’.
Yesterday, on the longest day of the year, I was thinking about what that means: devotion to a goddess; devotion to Life itself. As is usual for me, I was spinning stories about how I could do it. What practices and meditations and prayers I could devise to give shape to that devotion. I was tying myself up in knots of complication. And then I heard her voice again. And she was laughing.
Of course she was. Because it is so simple. Devotion to Deity, to Spirit, to Life, whatever name you call it by and whatever face of it inspires you and draws you into relationship, is no more than simple presence. As I am present to every passing moment, the goddess is present through me. She is my bones. When I am present, so is she. This is the service of devotion she is asking of me.
Such presence inevitably leads me to celebration. Especially under this high clear sunlight, with the roses in bloom and the lush green all around, every moment of presence is a moment of wonder. Each breath brings a sense of ‘waaaw’ and ‘oooooh’. And I smile for the beauty of the world.
Of course, that is not all there is. There is plenty of suffering and pain in the world. These things also ask for my attention and presence. The goddess wishes to be present with all of life, every single texture of it. She holds it all in the darkness of her womb.
Yesterday I celebrated with a walk and a ceremony on Stanmore Common, and with a 5 Rhythms dance. As a result, I have six huge mosquito bites on my hand and knees, and a blister on my right big toe. These sensations are part of my rich tapestry of life just now. They are some of the hazards of being alive in a body. It is life. It is beautiful. It is ‘waaaaaw’.
Happy Solstice!
After over six months of silence, I feel like I have something to say again. I have started a post several times in the past months, but it never seemed to be worth posting, or even finishing. It hasn’t been an easy year, yet again, and it wasn’t by any means clear where it was all going to lead – if anywhere. But I have learned a few things this year, and I would like to share this harvest, even if the fruit may taste a little bitter. Read the rest of this entry »
Well, nobody ever said it was going to be easy. A couple of weeks ago, the stress and tiredness finally got the better of me. I was feeling awful. The place of peace inside me was still there, but got hard to reach, even during my practice. Waking up too early and not being able to go back to sleep made me feel worn out. I was barely able to do the minimum to hold my life together. It was clear that the blocks my life’s journey had created in the flow of life were getting the better of me.
To be honest, the whole thing felt like defeat. You’d think, wouldn’t you, that after all these years of spiritual work and effort to find peace, I should have found the answer by now. I should have found a clear path to peace and not feel so sorry for myself. I should have found a way to remove those blocks and just be happy. Surely having failed to do so means that I’m useless as a spiritual person, let alone as a spiritual teacher. I’m failing at the thing I most care about, so I’m a failure as a human being.
So I talked to a few trusted friends. First of all, they assured me that I’m not a failure. And they had some good advice. My friend Lou recommended this book, a classic in self-help Cognitive Behavioural Therapy: Feeling Good, The New Mood Therapy by David. D Bruns. So I bought it and started reading it. And I learned something that I had never realised before.