Journey of Geese: Embracing Change and Adventure

01/11/2025 at 12:42 pm | Posted in Uncategorized, Wellbeing notes | Leave a comment
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The path along Cocklemore Brook gets a bit muddy at times. Pretty, but muddy. The other day I was tiptoeing over damp autumn leaves when a noise overhead caused me to look up. Geese, honking in formation – flapping heavy wings in a tired ‘V’ shape they likely maintained all the way from Iceland, Greenland or beyond.

There’s something rather soulful about the noise of flying geese. How do they manage to sound both mournful, and adventurous? Perhaps I’m dwelling on this right now because my daughter has recently gone to the other side of the world, and she won’t be back until the geese have returned to their homelands, hatched their young, and started gathering for their next winter in the British Isles. 

There is a wrench somewhere around the heart when a loved one is absent. Yet it’s not all sad, because I’m happy for my daughter to stretch her own wings: to enjoy a new adventure and become more independent. 

The urge to travel is no doubt deep within humans, as much as it’s within those tired geese overhead. If we can’t, or choose  not to, cover physical distance, we can always use our imaginations. Perhaps that’s why the honking of geese as they fly is so evocative: it’s the sound of faraway places, heard within the comfort of our own neighbourhood. 

Wellbeing notes: Quietly appreciating what we’re good at

02/04/2025 at 6:06 pm | Posted in Nature, Wellbeing, Wellbeing notes | Leave a comment
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Last spring a visitor fell totally in love with our local bluebell woods. Through her, I realised how privileged we are that these fragrant flower drifts are such a familiar part of our neighbourhood. 

According to Kew Gardens, over half the world’s population of bluebells, or Hyacinthoides non-scripta, grow in the UK. They’re native to Britain and other parts of Western Europe. But Britain is their citadel, and we protect them through legislation. Bluebells are often found in woodland that is over 400 years old, so a bluebell-rich landscape is a healthy landscape that encourages all sorts of native wildlife. Some of my favourite spring moments include seeing roe deer meandering along flowery banks in dappled sunlight. Our bluebell citadel is definitely something to appreciate. 

Now, as it happens, the visitor who enjoyed our local woodland is not so great at appreciating her own, personal attributes. She is a kindly person, who is quick to help others. However, she doesn’t value these things about herself. Compliments embarrass her. And yet in her own way she is a citadel for a practical form of kindness.

I wonder how many of us are not very good at appreciating the special things about ourselves. Each one of us can be said to be a citadel for a unique blend of skills, talents and other qualities that enhance the lives of others around us. So my question to you is: what will you appreciate about yourself today?

Wellbeing notes: Season of hope

01/02/2025 at 9:56 am | Posted in Uncategorized, Wellbeing, Wellbeing notes | Leave a comment
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These weeks, right now, when winter is sliding muddily into early spring… there’s no time quite like it. It’s not the most beautiful of seasons. And yet, with its sprinkling of snowdrops and ever lighter skies, there lies, embedded in our local landscape, the hope of warmer days. 

As the heroine of Anne of Green Gables says, “Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it yet.” And since we are only in February, there are plenty of tomorrows left in the year.

A pessimistic friend of mine is skilled at pointing out the many problems in the world. But perhaps when things look most dire, that’s when we have the greatest need for hope. Or, to put it another way, in places of darkness, the light of hope may appear to shine more brightly and become most meaningful to others. To nurture hope is a valuable survival skill. Hope brings no guarantee of success, or peace, or happiness – but it does say that these things are possible. 

I love the words of the author Barbara Kingsolver, in her novel, Animal Dreams. ‘The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof.’

May we all be safe, and well, and happy in our houses of hope this year. 

Note: the daisy pictured was photographed at The Burren Perfumery. This family business makes perfumes and skincare products inspired by its stunning surroundings on the wild, west coast of Ireland.

Wellbeing notes: Listening to nature’s symphony

01/09/2024 at 10:02 am | Posted in Wellbeing notes | 1 Comment
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Midnight. Outside, a tawny owl is hooting. In the morning, the buzzard takes over: a high, childlike cry. For a few moments, the sound is drowned out by a plane from the Americas, passing overhead. But the plane goes; the buzzard is audible again. And more quietly, here in the garden, there’s the musical fluting of robins and goldfinches, the cooing of woodpigeons, and the rasp of crows. One day, soon, the geese will arrive, honking overhead as they remind us of snowy places, far away in the north. 

The symphony of nature is incredibly varied, when you stop to listen – and all of it tells a story. Wind in the trees on this hillside change like ocean currents when storms approach. Streams gush noisily after heavy rainfall. Boots squelch muddily or perhaps crackle through autumn leaves. 

Listening mindfully to the symphony of nature can be a calming meditation. For the space of ten breaths, focus on what you can hear to your left; then, for another ten breaths, tune into the sounds on your right. And then, finally, listen to your own, inner sounds, such as breathing or even your body’s pulse. The aim is to listen without judgement, understanding that everything and everyone is a part of nature. We are all, according to the poet Kahlil Gibran, ‘sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself’. Appreciating that insight can bring bliss. 

Wellbeing notes: Being peaceful in a hectic world

01/04/2024 at 1:05 pm | Posted in Wellbeing notes | 4 Comments
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A good friend once lived in a serene flat on a lively street. Cars sped past. Lorries lumbered. But in my friend’s lounge there was a picture of a temple garden that seemed to invite the viewer to breathe, and relax. 

I’ve always loved the contrast between busyness and peace. Perhaps it dates back to an old tollbar cottage that my grandparents used to live in. We children slept under sloping eaves. Outside, cars zoomed. Inside, all was still. Yes, the traffic held dangers. But in the cottage, we always felt safe.

Now, this can require a certain amount of work, a shift of mindset. But sometimes, when you are surrounded by bustle, that’s when you can feel especially peaceful. 

There is an old story that illustrates this. Weighed down by state business, an emperor was hungry for tranquillity. Three of the best artists in the land were summoned to produce a painting that would help him to feel calm. 

The first artist painted a still lake. The second created an untrodden, snowy landscape. “Very nice,” said the emperor. And then he turned to the final painting, which didn’t seem tranquil at all: a forest waterfall crashing down from a great height. “This is the one,” exclaimed the emperor to his puzzled courtiers. And he pointed to a nest, where a bird slept soundly. “That,” said the emperor, “is true tranquillity.”

However hectic the world may be, I wish you the peace of true tranquillity.

Wellbeing notes: Sparrowhawk meditation

01/10/2023 at 12:19 pm | Posted in Wellbeing notes | Leave a comment
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To live surrounded by nature is a privilege, and one I don’t take for granted. It feels extra special when animals – deer and hares in particular, as well as countless birds – trust humans enough to come up close.

Recently, this particular bird came calling: a female sparrowhawk. She was striking in every sense: strong, watchful and beautiful. I’d never seen one in such detail before, and was curious to read about her. 

The Eurasian sparrowhawk, also known as Accipiter nisus, is a modestly sized bird of prey. They live in woodland, and hunt smaller birds. Used in falconry, they’ve featured in poems, myths and stories from many cultures.

The sparrowhawk, small and fierce, is said to represent a warrior’s inner spirit, complete with a clear-sighted ability to see the whole picture. A simple meditation on these qualities can be uplifting and energising. 

Sit somewhere quietly. Take relaxed, even breaths. Then close your eyes and focus with your thoughts on the sparrowhawk’s characteristics – whatever comes to mind. You might think of its striped feathers and far-seeing eyes, You might think of its beauty, boldness and strength. 

As you continue to breathe in and out, be aware that those qualities are also within you. Feel a purposeful power filling the whole of your being. Enjoy that sense of strength; truly own it. And when you’re ready, open your eyes.

I hope you enjoy this nature meditation. The message of the sparrowhawk ultimately comes down to this: you are stronger and more able than you think.

Fiction notes: The untutored retreat

15/07/2023 at 9:32 am | Posted in Fiction notes, Uncategorized | 2 Comments
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When I stepped into the old, stone building, I knew that all I had to do for the next six days was write. Yes, there would be country walks, and shared meals with some interesting authors. There would almost certainly be conversations with friendly strangers in the neighbouring village. But apart from those interactions, all I had to do was write, edit and write some more. 

That permission to do what you love to do, without interruptions, is, for me, the biggest appeal of an untutored writers’ retreat. 

There is a purity about the quiet that allows you to go deeper. From my desk, through the window, I could gaze into the apparent infinity of woodland. There was something about the way breezes created endless pathways through shimmering leaves that somehow helped my mind to take less obvious creative routes through my work in progress. House martins swooping every which way in the near distance seemed amplify the effect. 

And when I walked around the beautiful estate, once owned by the playwright John Osborne, there were constant invitations to daydream, that essential precursor to creative writing. I explored grassy paths through fragrant gardens, discovered the occasional, intriguing statue, and met venerable redwood trees, the elders of the place. 

But it wasn’t all seclusion. The other writers were fun, inspiring, and supportive – ideal companions for a relaxed yet productive week. 

My recent retreat took place at the Clockhouse, at the Hurst, in Shropshire, owned and run by Arvon. It wasn’t my first visit, and it won’t be my last. For much of the year I’m happy writing in my own home, but every now and then, especially towards the end of a novel’s first draft, or at the beginning of a new one, a retreat centre becomes the perfect place to be.

How about you: what, and where, is your ideal retreat?

Wellbeing notes: The therapy of small things

01/06/2023 at 9:57 am | Posted in Wellbeing notes | 2 Comments
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I’d come home from a really stressful term of studies. I was questioning everything I’d ever learnt, anxious about the truth and direction of my life. 

Home at that time was an Italian villa by a lake where water buffalo roamed, and mafiosi ruled. Home seemed so different from the English university I’d just left. And the contrast just made things worse.

But then something small happened. I was walking in the garden, between green lemon trees and a wall where purple bougainvillea grew. Beneath the wall, my mother and brother were positioning a section of flattened tree trunk. “It’s a bench,” my mum explained. 

Curiously, when she said that, something within me settled. All those big questions, crowding my mind… they were abstract problems. You couldn’t touch them, like you could touch the lemon trees or the bougainvillea. And a bench in the garden where people could sit, and maybe heal from whatever was troubling them… you could touch that. 

Right then, I began to appreciate the therapy of small things.

Fast forward to present times, to Wiltshire, in England. Last week, a young family friend came to stay, anxious and needing a break from uni. There was no handy tree trunk to turn into a bench. But I was looking after my neighbours’ hens. So, I invited her to help me feed them. 

As the hens tucked into lettuce, she visibly relaxed.  “I needed this,” she said.

And I hoped then that the therapy of small things had found another fan. 

Wellbeing notes: Teachings from an ancient flower

31/03/2023 at 9:09 am | Posted in Wellbeing notes | 1 Comment
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There’s a magnolia tree that I know and love. With spring blooms of velvet pink, it brings pleasure to all who view it. But my magnolia is more than just a bunch of gorgeous flowers. Its cup-shaped blossoms tell an ancient story. And if I slow down enough to listen to that story, wellbeing results. Here are a few of magnolia’s insights.

‘Age is relative’

Magnolias have been growing for 20 million years. In comparison, humans are so young. It is believed that we have been on this planet for a mere 300,000 years. We are new-born babes compared with the magnolia tree. Maybe we should cut ourselves some slack. We are still learning, and that’s okay.

‘Think out of the box’

Magnolias evolved long before the arrival of bees. So, they attract a much older insect: flightless beetles, that chomp the sticky nectar. So, next time you’re grappling with a tricky problem, you might think of an alternative, ‘magnolia’ solution.

‘It’s fine to be a late bloomer’ 

Although my favourite magnolia tree flowers in spring, it likes to have a small, colourful flurry later in the year. And so it is with our own talents and interests. We are never too old to do something new.

‘Plan ahead’ 

By December, my magnolia will be covered in countless tight buds. The tree will protect them over winter, then enjoy a head start next spring. In the same spirit of looking ahead, what could you prepare today, in order to better use your energy tomorrow?

Wellbeing notes: Like calls to like

01/03/2022 at 10:00 am | Posted in Inspiration, Uncategorized, Wellbeing | Leave a comment
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A male woodpecker lives in my garden. Every morning he goes to the wild cherry tree and drills against the trunk, using his beak to beat a loud tattoo. He drums away, then flies to the uppermost branch. From there, he looks all around, searching the landscape for incoming female woodpeckers – potential mates. Then, he goes back to drilling again. Sometimes he flutters down to the ground for a tasty insect, or heads to the bird feeder, where his relative size makes him one of the dominant diners. He gets all the best treats, the ones that the bossy squirrels don’t manage to purloin.

Day after day the woodpecker repeats his routine. Utterly dedicated to the task, he embodies the old saying, ‘Like calls to like’. If there’s a female within half a mile, she will hear him. 

The woodpecker can teach us a wonderful principle for life: be who you are, and speak that truth clearly. Kindred spirits will hear your call. The woodpecker has never attempted to be some other, more colourful bird, like a jay or a parakeet or even a peacock. He is simply his own glorious self – surely the best way to attract the right mate for him.

When we are true to ourselves, we are also, I believe, more likely to respect other people’s differences. Those differences make the world a fascinating and beautiful place.

So my question for you is this: what do you choose to broadcast to the world today?

Photo: Unsplash

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