Tags: Intuition, intuitive development, learning, life skills, reflections
Prediction is a popular pursuit in many areas, including business, politics, weather, economics, and (of course) the field of intuition. This article is about channelling one’s own intuition to gain a sense of what is likely to happen in the future. Perhaps the following tips will be useful for economists and weather forecasters too. Here they are, in six not always straightforward steps.
- Let go of any personal agenda. If you can’t do that, your best predictions will be no better than guesses, and often far worse. If you secretly want a certain outcome, you will distort your interpretation of everything you see, or sense. If you are not aware of this personal bias, or even in denial about it, your attempts to predict will fail. It’s good to work at knowing yourself. What, for example, do you fear? Unless you deal with your fears, they will pop up and distort your intuitions about the future.
- Make a life-long practice of being an observer of people, of life, of events. The more you observe, the more consciously aware you become of patterns. Patterns are everywhere. We tend to believe that we have self-determination – that we can shape our own future. That is true. But beneath the conscious level we ourselves are a part of many overlapping and interweaving patterns. This means that our choices are not always entirely our own. They are an expression of our family, our community, our country, our culture. Even when we rebel against these influences, they still work on us in unconscious ways. When we see the many patterns of life clearly, we are more likely to notice breaks in the patterns, and the effects of those disturbances to the general order of things. Observing the pattern of cause and effect is in itself a life-long discipline.
- Understand the process of prediction. Think of yourself as a channel. To be more precise, your conscious mind is the conduit through which unconscious information flows. You might think of pioneering psychologist Carl Jung here: he suggested that beneath the realms of our individual unconscious are vast realms of collective unconscious knowledge that we all share. When predicting, it’s useful to think of yourself drawing on this vast well of unconscious knowledge.
- Be clear about what you are aiming to predict. Ask a question. Consider whatever comes up in relation to that question.
- Use tools in moderation. Understand that no tools are essential, but they can be helpful. Tools might include scrying instruments, such as a crystal ball or a blank mirror, that you gaze into with a lightly unfocused gaze – a tv screen for the mind. Tools might also include oracle cards, or simply watching the sky or land and noticing what you notice. What comes forward for your attention? What relevance does it have to your question?
- Relax. Let go. Answers may come quickly, slowly or not at all. Sleep on it. Keep a dream journal. Be open to answers in your dreams, which can cut right to heart of an issue and reveal the psychology of a person or a nation. When you wake in the morning, pause… and sense the beautiful fresh blankness of the new day, like an empty slate on which your intuition can write. Take the whole process lightly. Be grateful for insights.
Finally, remember that prediction is always based in the present moment. It is subject to change. If a person starts thinking differently, they behave differently and the future changes. So we can only really tell what is likely to happen if people continue as they are. Above all, be kind. We always have the power to shape the future for the better.
Tags: aura, healing, intuitive healing, origins, psychic development, Relationships
Photo courtesy of Christopher Campbell/Unsplash
This week, in my meditation studio, we’re focusing on the word ‘aura’. But what does that actually mean?
The Cambridge Dictionary is a good starting point. Aura is defined there as ‘a feeling or character that a person or place seems to have’ and also as ’a type of light that some people say they can see around people and animals’.
To get a truly authentic sense of the word, however, we need to go back in time.
Aura was a Greek goddess, a personification of the breeze, breath and fresh, cool air.
Her name came from an ancient seed word meaning breeze, or fresh air. That same seed word also came to manifest over in Finland as ‘the Finnish Maiden’, a personification of Finland itself.
So ‘aura’ evokes a presence. It can encapsulate the spirit of an individual, or a community, or a place. It has a freshness about it, a sense of movement: new ideas and invigorating air arrive; old energies and air depart.
When healers and other energy therapists use the word ‘aura’, they’re generally referring to the energy field of a person, or other living being. Healers talk about sensing ‘stuck’ energy, a lack of flow in certain parts of a human energy field that can be associated with areas of pain or discomfort. Linked with the physical discomfort may well be emotional issues that have not been fully processed – that have been ‘stuck’ in some way. The healing process enables flow to return to these areas. Physical symptoms can improve. Emotional wellbeing can return.
In this context it makes perfect sense that Aura, the classical personification of fresh air and breezes, is meant to be a gently dynamic force. When a person is fit and healthy there seems to be a glow and vibrancy about them – in some immensely subtle way, they shimmer. Likewise, when a person is very happy they glow. Think about a young couple who are about to marry, for example. Or think about a woman when she is expecting a baby. In contrast, when someone has clinical depression, it can feel as thought they are ‘stuck’ in their sad emotions.
We notice auras without always realising it. Someone is ‘full of hot air’. Someone else has a quietly menacing air. Yet another person has a reassuring presence.
Being aware of auras in this way helps us choose wisely how we deal with situations. The truth is that noticing auras, far from simply being the preserve of psychics, is a good life skill for all of us.
Tags: happiness, Health, learning, Loneliness, Relationships
Photo courtesy of I’m Priscilla/Unsplash
Think of the good relationships in your life. These could include a partner, children, parents, sibling, nephew or niece. A small group of supportive friends or colleagues. Maybe an animal companion or two. Whoever they are, think of them now….
Chances are you feel a glow deep inside you, a softening and relaxing of your whole body. It’s uplifting to think of those we love and care for. And now there is plenty of evidence that having these relationships helps us to stay healthy too.
A Harvard study which began in 1938 and is still ongoing has been tracking over 700 men, some from inner-city Boston and the others from Harvard. They were teenagers when the study began. Seventy members of the original group are still alive. The men’s wives and children are now also being included. Along the way, the researchers have discovered that people with good relationships tend to be healthier too.
“Good, close relationships predicted not just that they would stay happier, but they would also stay healthier,” says Dr Robert Waldinger, the study’s current director.
Fame and fortune – the things people so often believe they want – simply don’t have the same effect. Having enough is all that’s required as far as happiness is concerned.
Realistic, not rose-tinted
Good relationships don’t always go smoothly. But that’s just part of being human. What matters is that you feel the other person fundamentally has your back.
When relationships do end, it’s good for our long-term health to build new bonds with like-minded others.
Joining new clubs may feel daunting, but it could be the healthiest gift you can give yourself.
It’s never about the number of friends you have. What matters is the quality of your relationships. Many will agree that loneliness in a crowd is far worse than pleasant periods of chosen solitude.
Loneliness is toxic. In the Harvard study, loneliness is associated with a shorter life span. Yet it’s sadly common. Relate’s new study of relationships in Britain, ‘The Way We Are Now’, has found that 13% of UK people have no close friends, and this number has risen in the past two years.
Relate has also found that just under half of all people feel lonely sometimes. A similar number of people living together feel lonely often or all of the time.
Five steps to happiness
Nurturing the good relationships we have, and building new ones when we feel the need, are linked strongly with happiness and health. This is an active process. We have to work at it a bit. Here are some suggestions.
• Write a thoughtful letter by hand to someone you care for, full of appreciation and kindness. Ring up an old friend you haven’t spoken to lately.
• Say “I love you” often to those you love.
• Volunteer at a local charity that’s aligned with your interests and skills.
• Join a Meetup or local community group with similar interests to you. Regularly attend get-togethers.
• Finally, there is one practice that will make all of the above easier to accomplish. It’s simple really: love and cherish yourself. Remember that you are a unique member of this amazing human race. You are loveable. For many of us, this takes a little work. But it’s worth it. When you can cherish yourself, it’s infinitely easier to love others – and to allow others to love you in return.
Tags: disability, kindness, reflections, special needs, uk parents
This year, Friday 17th February is Random Acts of Kindness Day. But I would like to make the case that for some members of our society – such as my disabled son – kindness from strangers is an every day part of life. It always has been, in all of his 21 years.
In an age of austerity cuts and the resurgence of prejudices, I feel it’s important to say that many people of every political persuasion and indeed none are routinely compassionate and caring, every day of every year. In our family’s direct experience, kindness is the norm. Sure, we get tactless stares and thoughtless comments – but these are cancelled out by generous deeds and unexpected favours, from all directions.
My son Tim has always looked disabled. He has always needed a wheelchair. From the age of 16 he has needed oxygen therapy, which means a cylinder, tube and small mask wherever he goes. There is no question that Tim looks different from the norm – whatever that might be. If Tim’s disabilities were invisible, I understand from other special needs parents that his experience might have been less rosy. I can only write of our own experience. And that is, on balance, clearly positive.
When Tim was younger, strangers would routinely offer him cuddly toys which were sometimes bigger than him. Countless others – the most unlikely characters – would give him smiles. I remember wheeling Tim into a rather rough-looking pub in Cornwall. The proprietor was a middle-aged woman with a craggy face – austere and tough. She looked at Tim. Her face broke into a wide, kind smile. She became utterly transformed… actually beautiful. Thousands of others have smiled at Tim, but she stays in my mind because her kindness transformed her so completely.
At this point I have to confess that Tim has jumped many queues, and got into places without paying – because kind officials have ushered him through. From Blackpool Pleasure Beach to Disneyland, Tim has received VIP treatment. He even once got into the VIP enclosure at Brands Hatch to see a Formula One race without flashing a ticket. In some of these places the policy has been an official one. In others, it’s come down to the kindness of an individual at the gate.
When Tim was 14, he became very poorly while on holiday in Florida. We were offered family accommodation at the local Ronald Macdonald House near Wolfson Children’s Hospital in Jackonsonville, where Tim battled for his life in Intensive Care. His sister remembers receiving at least one present every day, and I remember that kind strangers booked up six months ahead for the privilege of cooking fabulous meals for all who stayed there. I’m personally sure that the kindness we received contributed to Tim’s speedy recovery.
Tim’s own attitude has to be mentioned. He smiles easily: a wide, generous smile that tells strangers he enjoys life and he doesn’t judge others in any way. He is visibly comfortable with the fact that he receives help from people. Again and again I have witnessed that Tim’s fun-loving and relaxed outlook makes it easy for strangers to be kind around him.
Advocates of equal rights for disabled people – and I am one of these – might argue that disabled people don’t want special treatment. They just want equal treatment.
Of course that’s true. Maybe all these favours could seem patronising. But I don’t choose to look at it that way. The truth is, being a physically, learning and health-challenged young person is unfathomably difficult, for the individual and the whole family. Tim lives at the edge of what is medically possible. So I look on him, and others like him – as something of a hero. And it’s perfectly reasonable for society’s heroes to receive accolades. The key is to accept the well-meant gestures gracefully.
This kindness even extends to those who care for him. Not so long ago Tim and I were sitting in the square next to Bath Abbey when a woman came up to me, holding a bouquet of scented flowers.
“These are for you,” she said to me. “Because I think what you’re doing is amazing.”
Recently Tim celebrated his 21st birthday with a restaurant meal. His friend and carer Bonnie was busy helping Tim to eat his puréed version of Sunday Roast. Her gentle patience was witnessed by a stranger in the bar. The young man secretly delivered an envelope to our group, to be handed to Bonnie after he had left. Our group got the timing wrong, and Bonnie received the envelope while the man was still present. Inside was a £20 note. Visibly moved, Bonnie went to thank the man, and the two hugged.
That hug between two kind strangers is what Random Acts of Kindness are all about. Who benefitted most: Bonnie, the kind stranger, or even the rest of us, looking on? The truth is, kindness given generously and accepted with genuine appreciation connects and benefits us all.
This article has also appeared in The Huffington Post.
Tags: Guidance, life skills, personal development
There’s a footpath that passes close to where I live. It’s a direct route between local communities. It’s as old as you care to think. In places, it runs adjacent to a busy main road which no doubt is just as ancient in origin.
Go back far enough in time, and the footpath and the road were probably equal partners. Each would have been wide enough for humans and animals to travel along. However, over centuries, one became a busy thoroughfare, and the other remained a quirky, winding path. But they each get you to your destination.
A society’s collective thinking is very like those routes. It makes sense for us to put things and people into categories – to put ideas into highways of collective thought, as it were.
It’s easier to say “I am Christian/Jewish/Muslim” for example, than it is to think exactly what your personal, unique experience of spirituality might be.
It’s easier to say, “Science is always right” for example, than it is to think about those countless times that scientific research is bent towards the commercial concerns that fund experiments.
And it’s easier to believe that we vote freely than it is to delve into the murky waters of psychometric social media advertising that can suppress or encourage votes for the benefit of a particular party or individual.
Well-trodden highways are practical in many ways. I’d rather use my car when I’m in a hurry than put on my boots and walk the fields. But it absolutely behoves us to think for ourselves – to be willing to walk the less travelled route, at least some of the time. That way, I believe, we are more likely to be able to look into the hearts and motives of others, and understand for ourselves our own best direction.
An extended version of this post can be found at The Huffington Post.
Tags: calm, meditation, mindfulness, nature, relaxation, travel
When life gets really busy… like right now… the easiest daily meditation doesn’t require a timer, or an app. It just requires you.
This is what you do. Sit comfortably. Rest your hands loosely on your lap.
Count the thumb and fingers of your left hand, one count per slow, relaxed breath. Lift each finger briefly in turn as you count.
Repeat with your right hand. So now you’ve counted five on each hand.
Then repeat the sequence twice more. So now in total you’ve counted five, six times over.
This is the ‘Three Tens’ meditation. When you’ve time for nothing else, do this. It will help!
Tags: healing, Health, inspiration, meditation, nature
The theme this week in my studio is ‘Aquamarine’. I invite you to focus on the beautiful green-blue colour of the sea. You know, the way it looks when waves rise up and daylight filters through the water…
Here is a self-healing exercise for you. Imagine you are made up entirely of this sea-glass colour. These pictures taken at Surfer’s Point in Western Australia may help you.
Visualise that any areas of pain or illness in your body are being washed away by the cleansing aquamarine light. Picture your body becoming more and more like aquamarine sea glass, as if lit from within. You might imagine that areas of pain are dark and dense, or sticky and gluey. As the water keeps washing through, these become dislodged until the whole of you is simply aquamarine: healthy; radiating with good health; and speaking with your own authentic voice. Enjoy the feeling!
Tags: inspiration, meditation
Easy, but not quick
Breathe in “I am”
Breathe out “mantra”
for twenty minutes
Set a timer
so you don’t need
to worry about time
When you witness
your mind wandering
return to your
I am mantra
I am mantra
I am mantra
After a while
if you’re lucky
your mind will
offer up the mantra
that runs through
Are you teacher
Are you carer
maker, even mystic?
Listen to the mantra
at your core
Don’t try to change it
Accept it, embrace it
I am mantra
I am mantra
That is all
Tags: Guidance, healing, insight, inspiration, meditation, nature, personal development, sacred site, travel
Some places feel special, in ways we don’t fully understand. One such I visited recently is Snaefellsjokull. This ice-capped volcanic mountain rises from a remote Western peninsula in Iceland. Its name translates as ‘Snow-fell glacier’.
Perhaps it feels remarkable because of the near-Arctic juxtaposition of ancient fire and eternal ice, enhanced by the mystery of ocean clouds.
Or maybe it’s because the myriad volcanic peaks in this region take on their own fierce presence in a stark landscape created by the slow separation of two major continental plates.
On the slopes of the glacier itself, the sense of presence grows stronger, along with a distinct chill. It’s easy to see why Jules Verne chose Snaefellsjokull as the entrance to the earth’s core in his novel, Journey to the Centre of the Earth.
There’s a purity and absolute freshness to the air, as though all human preconceptions have been blown or blasted away.
The ancient volcano brings gifts to the watchful. My daughter found a piece of obsidian – black fire glass. And I discovered the subtle, changing image of a fire sprite on a smooth piece of basalt.
Snaefellsjokull is said to be one of the sacred centres of the earth, a portal to other realms.
Standing on the glacier, it’s possible to see things differently… to recognise the true landscape of our own lives.
An ice mountain can tell you much about yourself.
Each of us carries within us the qualities of Snaefellsjokull: the ice and fire, the mystery and the deep, all held within a shimmering equilibrium that is subject to disruption when inner or outer forces overturn the state of balance.
Witnessing this in nature is to witness it in ourselves. We can open up to these qualities, and allow them to flow through the meridians, our own subtle energy channels.
There are four burning questions an ice mountain draws out of us:
What in you is ready to be expressed?
Look deeper now. What are you suppressing?
Do you always recognise your own inner promptings towards action?
And, above all, do you honour the passions and visions that ignite you?
Take time to answer these questions. They are a recipe for life-long wellbeing.
Tags: brexit, gratitude, humanity, special needs
This article has also been published in The Huffington Post.
My 20-year-old son has multiple health issues, and learning difficulties. He therefore needs 24/7 care. He lives, term-time, at an outstanding specialist college. He is looked after by a fantastic team of carers, or facilitators, who come from a whole range of different places, including England, South Africa… and, of course, Eastern Europe. Poland is high on that list.
I would love to give the whole team bouquets of fragrant flowers. But I’m a little too British and reserved for that. The facilitators do so much for him. They cut his hair, trim his nails, help him to eat and drink, and routinely handle life-saving medical equipment under the supervision of his amazing nurses. They also support him to study, exercise and socialise – all the things that make life worthwhile. And they do it all in a way that respects him as an individual. He enjoys life, hugely. That’s only possible because of the team that supports him.
Over the weekend I spent an afternoon with my son. During that period, a carer arrived who was new to me.
“Where are you from?” I asked her.
“Poland,” she said. She didn’t say it with any sense of happiness. Though she smiled, she wasn’t exactly glowing. All was not well.
I paused, acutely aware of the ongoing post-Referendum backlash against Eastern European workers.
“I want you to know,” I said, “that we’ve both just signed the Petition.”
She looked surprised.
“You know, the Petition for a Second Referendum.”
“Yes, I know about the petition.”
I went on to explain how my son had communicated, very clearly, that he is keen to support his European friends and carers. He had taken great pleasure pressing one finger against the green box on the Petitions page. He had been keen to confirm his vote by email.
“Oh,” she replied. “I’m so glad you told me. That is really good to hear. It’s not pleasant at the moment, knowing that so many people in England don’t want us here. It’s not a nice feeling.”
She was visibly moved. When she left the room shortly afterwards, I have a feeling that there may have been tears.
The reality is that we get a huge amount of help – real, physical, caring help – from Europe. As the mother of a young person with complex needs, I know that it would be really hard to get enough of the support we need if we were to close our borders.
My son’s facilitators, with their diverse backgrounds, literally bring the world to him. During his intermittent hospital admissions, the carers stay by him. During long hours at my son’s bedside, my family has learned about different countries from a personal, human perspective. My son has absorbed all this information.
My family has learned on a deep level that humans are not so different from one another. We share remarkably similar values. We laugh at the same things. We cry with the same sadness. We all of us worry when we feel under attack. And we love in the same whole-hearted, hopeful way.
People are people, wherever you go. It’s only the background that changes. We are enriched beyond measure by the clever, compassionate, caring individuals who help our son. That includes all the ones from Britain, South Africa… and Eastern Europe.
The petition may, or may not result in a second Referendum – I hope it does. At the same time, although I voted Remain, I do respect and share the view that EU reform is needed.
However, I think the Petition’s purpose runs deeper than politics. Signing is an act that shows the many European residents in this country that we do welcome them, and are grateful for the work that they do.
I don’t give my son’s facilitators bouquets of fragrant flowers – perhaps I should. But I certainly hope these words will let them know how much we appreciate them.