Fiction notes: The untutored retreat

15/07/2023 at 9:32 am | Posted in Fiction notes, Uncategorized | 2 Comments
Tags: , , , , ,

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
Tags: , , , , , ,

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
Tags: , , , , , ,

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
Tags: , , , ,

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

Wellbeing notes: nature’s message of hope

01/01/2021 at 3:07 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
Tags: , , ,

There’s something so uplifting about the first, tiny snowdrops of the year – a reminder of balmier weather to come. One summer I lost someone I was close to. Grief was ever present. There was no respite from the sadness. The following January, I saw the first snowdrops emerge from black earth. And for the first time in many months, I felt uplifted. It was as if the dots of tiny white flowers spelt out the word ‘hope’ in a dark landscape. Since that time I have especially treasured snowdrops, planting them in small drifts around my garden, bringing in a few blooms for the kitchen table. 

Hope is an excellent quality to cultivate in 2021. Hope reminds us that the potential for happiness is a core part of every human being. When we focus on our potential, when we visualise it as though it is already present, wellbeing enters. We become uplifted. And in that state of openness, we become receptive to the loving kindness that, I believe, always surrounds us. 

One simple exercise is to write the word ‘Hope’ on a square of canvas or paper. Enjoy choosing the placement of the four characters. You might write them large and plain or add illustrations that are meaningful to you. Then display your finished work in a place where you will often see it. Let its beneficial message spill into your life.

Stone Age – a (free) audio meditation

07/04/2020 at 1:22 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
Tags: , , , , , ,

 

 

Shelter

Here is your (free) audio meditation for this week. Again from the Studio seven years back, it’s a Stone Age visualisation, giving you an opportunity to imagine yourself living a truly simple life, in nature, bathing in refreshing water and breathing the freshest of air. I hope you enjoy it. I will join you listening to it in spirit this Thursday at 1 pm, or any time to suit you. So sit or lie down, relax and enjoy!

With love

Suzanne x

 

Stone Age Meditation

Healing Plants – a (free) audio meditation

31/03/2020 at 9:51 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Wild garlic, known for its immunity-enhancing properties, is widely available in neighbouring woods right now.

This week’s (free) audio meditation again comes from The Intuition Group, seven years ago.

I’ve always believed in the healing power of plants and have often noticed that the plants I need most at any particular time have a habit of growing in my vicinity. Right now, of course, that means lots of immunity-enhancing wild garlic in the neighbouring woods which I wilt down like spinach, or eat raw in pesto; vitamin-rich ground elder– the young shoots are delicious stir-fried; and quantities of refreshing lemon balm leaves emerging, full of relaxing properties that make an excellent herbal tea.

This week’s meditation celebrates the healing beauty of nature, which brings us therapy in so many different ways. There’s the colour therapy of uplifting yellow daffodils and deep blue hyacinths. There’s the fresh, subtle fragrance of unfurling willow leaves. And there’s the nutritional medicine of spring vegetables and greens. 


I hope you enjoy this meditation. As always, I will be doing this alongside you at 1 pm Thursday, or any time that suits you.


Wishing you a wonderful week,

Suzanne x

Healing plants meditation

Mother Earth, Father Sky, a (free) audio meditation

24/03/2020 at 1:01 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
Tags: , , , , ,

This week’s audio meditation that I’m sharing with you is called Mother Earth, Father Sky. It’s a reminder of nature, and your own creative role within nature, even while Gaia nurtures you.This one’s from a meditation session in my Studio, seven years back. So, without further ado, here it is. I hope you enjoy it. Stay well.

Mother Earth, Father Sky

This is why I let the wild bees go

10/06/2019 at 8:01 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments
Tags: , , , , ,

L1120432

 

The honey bees buzzed into the garden like a striped, determined blizzard, and settled in a wild cherry tree where they became a solid mass that moved constantly yet kept its shape. The way they seethed and settled seemed alarming to this bee-ignorant person. I called a local beekeeper, who said he would turn up the next morning and capture the swarm. In the meantime, cautiously, I studied them. And began to see patterns in their movement.

Firstly,  they were reassuringly peaceful, cocooning and protecting their all-important queen. Then there were individual bees, scouts, who constantly buzzed off to search for a new nesting site in the nearby woods, and returned to communicate their findings to the swarm.

L1120423

For hours, on and off, I watched them. They were mesmerising. Gradually I began to see the swarm’s point of view. I liked the way so many bees could act as one community. As chance would have it, my own home was about to become a community. Within the week, our disabled son, Tim, would return from college to live a semi-independent life with us. He would bring a team of carers with him. I was looking forward to Tim’s return very much. However, I felt trepidation about the team that would nearly always be with him.

While I watched and waited, the bees quietly buzzed their message, that it’s okay to be part of a community, in which everyone has their role to play. During those hours, my attitude shifted. I began to accept my family’s new phase. Our home shimmered and changed shape around me, becoming its new, more public self.

The next day, I phoned the beekeeper and asked him to come a couple of hours later than planned. I had to go out but also, secretly, I hoped our visiting bees might have the chance to live a wild, free life. And sure enough, in that time the bees lifted and vanished into the woodland. They were gone within seconds. I understood that they had found their own home. And I wasn’t sorry that I let them go.

Choosing bluebell pathways

26/04/2019 at 11:07 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Comments
Tags: , , , ,

IMG_2592.jpeg

At the weekend I was lucky enough to be shown Duncliffe Wood, in Dorset. It had been raining heavily, which meant this ancient woodland was largely empty of visitors, like a forest from a bygone era. The rain was still falling lightly as we walked through clouds of purple blooms. The ground was bumpy with odorous leaf mould and sap-filled roots, and the subtle bluebell fragrance lay all about us, mist-like.

There were many small paths through the woodland. Every few paces, it seemed, there was a new choice of route. At first we chose carefully, and then it dawned on us that the route didn’t really matter. Every choice was the right choice. This was a walk that meant us to meander, to explore, to absorb the bright spring vitality of the place.

When the walk finished, I carried away my own share of that diffuse purple bluebell energy which lay like a shimmering ball in my cupped hands. The next day I felt a portion of the ball pour out into two meditation sessions that I hosted. Afterwards there was still plenty left to pour around my house and garden, and into the everyday jobs I had to do there. Then some flowed into my writing and yet more seeped on to my list of things to do, muddling the tidy lines, creating watercolour opportunities that changed shape as I looked at them.

It was just a little walk. But its fragrance will linger, I think, for a goodly time.

 

L1070606

« Previous PageNext Page »

Website Built with WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.