Sunday, 14 August 2016

White Sea

Summer is soon to fade.
I can hear Autumn's whisper. How I love Autumn.

Summer is the Season I tend to connect with least, but this year has been a little different, for the first time in a long time I have found much enjoyment through a little girl named Niah who makes every day enchanting and filled with new wonder. 




My days of Mamahood are so busy but so blessed.

In the quiet moments in between the busy I try to make time to pause, to bathe in hot salty water, to meditate, to stretch on my yoga mat, to write in my journal and to read.

I have been reading Shakespeare's Sonnets, 
It is the earliest writing I have read, a real challenge for my mind, with many moments reading and re-reading each line and often out-loud to make sense of this text written in the sixteen hundreds.

Whilst my mind busies itself my heart rests with a gentle understanding and familiarity, these words are recognised deep within the soul, for it is writing which encapsulate all that we journey with and through in life . . .
Love, Beauty, Mortality and The Passing Of Time.

My favourite lines so far,

'Tomorrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of Love with a perpetual dullness.
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
Come daily to the banks, that, when they see
Return of love, more blest may be the view;
Or call it winter, which being full of care, 
Makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd,
more rare.'
William Shakespeare 





I have a very dear friend who resides across land and waters, a friend of whom I mainly converse with through the simple act of letter writing, the ritual of which has become such a sacred part of my existence.

Earlier in the summer I made a gift to send across the ocean and very much inspired by the ocean, a carefully woven dream catcher in pure white. 

Kerrie Lives in a beautiful cottage washed by the sea, 
white, calm and filled with peace.







Creating this catcher became an active meditation, breathing deeply whilst adding beautiful details from nature.
White washed Mussel shells and pretty sea glass collected from the beach in Cornwall and with white feathers found during countryside walks hand in hand with my beautiful girl.




Calm, peace and stillness of the white and simmering sea.  




After I have made something by hand I like to cleanse it in the smoke of white sage and chant ancient mantras of love.





Meticulously wrapped with devotion and ready to send,


Across many a shore.



Visit Kerrie's beautiful Ocean blessed world Here x

Thursday, 30 June 2016

Summer Love

'Oh amazing love,
let me sing of your wonders,
with these words
let me open a door
in to light'

-Rumi






Summer days enjoyed with our beautiful girl have so far mostly been spent in the rain, in our wellies and splashing through puddles.

Last week, to Niah's delight, the tiny lanes in our little village became completely flooded, " Oooooooh BIG puddle!!" 

She had so much fun wading through the depths, that the water went over the tops of her wellies and filled the inside, that was a squelchy walk home. 

Amidst the rain and only every now and then, we have had little glimpses of sun, warm and soothing,
 and on those days of blue skies and gentle bird song, among the flowers is where you will find us.







Together we study delicate petals in detail and lean in close to inhale each individual scent. 
Bees, butterflies and ladybirds are counted among our friends and whilst Niah busies herself in the pursuit of excavating tiny stones from the earth and lining them up to decide which one is to be her favourite, I can just exist subtly for a few moments with a quiet mind and with deepened breath,

In gentle stillness beneath the sun and beside summer blooms, with a girl that makes my heart bloom,
 more than I ever thought possible,
And even more with every new day. 


 Summer Love is this to be sure.
Thank you, always. Thank you.


Thursday, 19 May 2016

The Song Of The Wild Cherry Blossom

Blossom Blossom everywhere, ethereal and light, suspended pom pom plumes in pastel pink and white. 




Oh how I'm enjoying the season of flowering trees. 

My husband chose for me this branch of cherry blossom to enjoy in our home and just in time too, as there is now a falling confetti of petals cascading at every turn. 
Soon it will be gone, the knowledge of its return in only a year, makes the loss a little easier to bare and also with such wonderful succession, next is the arrival of Lilac and Wisteria, my absolute favourites of all, Spring is so eager to please with flower after beautiful flower.

A few days ago I opened the door to my Beautiful friend, an unexpected visit is always such a joy from a dear friend whom you love and have missed.

Such a pretty gift I was given from one who knows me so well, a cup and Saucer hand painted and antique. 
Such delicate beauty is this when held in my hands, the china so thin at ones lips, the perfect vessel for sipping herbal tea.   


And it seemed Niah was also to be included in the generosity from the kindest of hearts, a stack of books saved for over thirty years and once belonging to daughters of her own, were now to be passed to this daughter of mine.

Books are very special in our house and when they are blessed upon us with a history and heartfelt meaning- even more so.

My favourite among them was this, a book I have always hoped we would own at some point 'A Treasury Of Flower Fairies' By Cicely Mary Barker 

The Song of the Wild Cherry Blossom

In May when the woodland ways
Are all made glad and sweet
with primroses and violets
New Opened at your feet,
Look up and see
A fairy tree,
With blossoms white
In clusters light,
All set on stalks so slender,
With pinky leaves so tender.
O Cherry tree, wild Cherry tree
You lovely, lovely thing to see.






Even more beautiful than blossom on the trees or in a pot or a vase is blossom that is held in the sweet hands of our Flower Fairy.

From my heart I am giving thanks, for the many blessings I hold in my life,

A friend whom I adore,

Blossom in the months of Spring,

A husband who understands me,

And a little girl who has made my life complete. 

Monday, 9 May 2016

Papa




The Papa I never had exists now,

Present in my life,

 As of the father of my child.


Nurturing, Loving, consistant is he, 
A consistency once longed for and needed, Is here now, 

Present in my life, 

As the father of my child. 


A steadfast love from a man that never falters, 
unwavering from the deapth of the deep, breathes now,

Present in my life,

As the father of my child.



The highest of the high.

The purest of the pure.

The first man you trust.

The first man you adore.

A healing for the child in me, 
Is the witnessing of this love that stands before me, 

The love of Father and Daughter.

The father of my child.

Sunday, 1 May 2016

Slow Moments

My birthday came and went, slowly, quietly. 

A long soak in a salt and lavender bath with a stack of poetry books leant from the library. 

Rather than a birthday dress I decided to wear . . . . Birthday pyjamas, and spent the rest of the day beneath blankets with tea and home made cake. 
It was perfect. 

I enjoyed every restful moment, drifting between states of absent thought and thoughts of self-reflection, of contemplation. The sort that are sure to arise on one's birthday, this day that marks the years that have passed in one's own evolution of the 'self' 

"Quiet the mind and the soul will speak"
Ma Jaya Sati Bhagavati


The cake I made was pure and natural, formed from the bounty of natures gifts. 

Gluten and sugar free, I used honey, raspberries and strawberries for sweetness and the dainty white flowers of spring blossom from our garden for decoration. 



I was so pleased with how pretty it looked and how delicious it tasted.

Whilst out in the garden I also snipped a simple, single stem and placed it with one of my favourite poems,

A poem that speaks so poignantly to me, of my own journey toward the rediscovery of my most authentic self, the self that can only be unearthed when truly broken, the self that has been lying dormant just waiting to be set free, and how it feels when you finally . . . .

 'greet yourself arriving at your own door'


Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the others welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror,
sit. feast on your life.

~Derek Walcott

Thursday, 21 April 2016

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater or lesser persons than yourself.


 Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the council of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. 


Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars, you have a right to be here.



And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be.

And what ever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.


Offering a few of my favourite lines of 'Desiderata' By Max Ehrmann


Thursday, 14 April 2016

Notes of Niah


"Love is the bridge between you and everything."
                                                                              Rumi


Let me hold these memories in my heart forever, 

The first Spring that you walked in your little purple shoes, The way you wear your hair in a clip to the side and the soft curls that fall down the back of your neck, 

The mornings we would wander in the village excited by bumble bees, black birds and dogs that chase balls in the park,

And this morning in particular when you placed your soft hand in mine and raised the other to the trees above, your beautiful little index finger outstretched to a perfect point, 

"That's blossom" I told you, "Isn't it so Beautiful, just like you" 

I explained to you how the trees flower at this time of the year, and that's one of the reasons that makes Spring so very special. You look at me so carefully when I teach you things, so full of wonder, so mindfully observant with your big blue eyes, I can almost see the information as it enters and settles within your being, shaping who you are and who you are becoming, your desire for knowledge is growing every single day.

 Too tired to walk home I made you comfy in your pushchair, you were wearing your sweet little rain coat with the birds and I covered you over with the same blanket you've had wrapped around you since you were born. 
Giving  thanks to the tree I reached up for a small wish bone shaped branch which I broke in to two and placed one in each of your hands, you lifted one and then the other up to your nose and said "mmmmm" with a smile, "Does It smell nice sweetest heart? mmmmm, it does!" and of course I couldn't resist kissing the lovely soft skin of your cheek, 

Your skin, these kisses, your hands and the way you held that blossom the whole way home and laid it down beside you whist you slept in the middle of our bed, Moments like these,

Let me remember them always.





Sunday, 3 April 2016

Writing a Letter by hand

Spring has arrived slowly and subtly around here, a time of transition. 

The air is still cool, the sun warms the skin but not the bones, It's still a little chilly to leave the house without a coat but a little too warm to wear one, many of the branches have pretty green buds emerging, tightly bound leaves in their very infancy, whilst the bold and proud magnolia are singing in all their showy splendour.

Walking hand in hand with Niah beneath the blossom confetti that falls below bright blue skies and birds that sing has me feeling so blessed.

As the new season of Spring builds in momentum so too will our energy reserves, now is the time for fresh inspiration, new projects and the manifestation of a long winters thought up dreams.  

Let us tune in to mother nature to receive. Hear. See. Feel.

"The earth has music for those who listen" Shakespeare

I've been sending out so many wishes just recently for a little more vitality and life force, so that I might find the energy to engage more in the creative pursuits I love.
Things have been a little quiet here on my blog so It's wonderful to stop by today with something lovely to share. I have recently taken part in a Letter Exchange, a wonderful slow and calming way to spend the peaceful moments that are Niah's nap time! 



And so, serenaded by the gentle sleep induced snores of my Beautiful girl I sat down over the course of a week to write a letter by hand, one of my favourite simple pleasures. 
Celia Hart was the name chosen for me to write a letter to, Celia is an artist who's work is inspired greatly by the Great British countryside as well as her passion for gardening and so these too became the theme of the little parcel I put together.


 I made some copies of one of my favourite old fashioned botanical books, and cut the finely drawn illustrations to decorate my writing paper.

 I also covered a matchbox and filled a miniature cork bottle with the tiny seeds of Basil.


 And made some doves of peace.



 "Nature never did betray the heart that loved her" William Wordsworth

I included some pretty gardening gloves for the new season. 

With everything wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine and the envelope securely sealed, the parcel was complete.




what a wonderful way to engage with new acquaintance, slow and simply, reminiscent of a time gone by.

Wishing you all the joy of Spring, have a wonderful week ahead.


Anyone is welcome to join in with The Hand Written Letter Exchange which is being run by the lovely Emma of ~
 'Silver Pebble' A talented lady indeed, making the most beautiful crochet and jewellery designs, her hand drawn botanical illustrations are so pretty, Emma also writes a really lovely blog. If you like the idea of a new pen friend, be sure to pay her a visit for more details.

And if you would like to have a look at the wonderful work of Celia Hart you can find her here.