Connecting…

When I was working on the psychic line I received a telephone call that found it’s way into my heart memories and I discovered it there recently.

The lady who called was terminally ill and started the call with,

“I don’t have any questions as such, I just wanted to ring.”

In that instant, I dropped every label/shield that I was holding, as I instinctively knew she had no expectations. I wasn’t a medium, psychic, woman, mother, or anything else. I was simply one soul connecting to another.

We talked about fresh washing hanging out on the line, the sound of children’s laughter, wrapping in soft towels after a bath, birdsong at dawn, a large amount of rubbish on the telly (even though there are umpteen channels), the wisdom of avoiding the news, knitting, an absorbing play on the radio, a clean kitchen floor and the grace of expression through writing.

I shared with her a story of being out shopping with friends and two of us squealing with delight when we saw a new range of notebooks. One (somewhat pithy) member of our group commented,

“Surely one notebook is enough?”

“One? I don’t understand the question.” I replied.

We giggled over the pure joy of finding a notebook with a great cover and found ourselves agreeing that writing with heart and our own voice gifts connection. Sitting quietly she had found herself imagining stories for children and we ended our call with her intention to write them down.

The tide still runs…

Gosh, getting the hang of the new WP editor is fun (not!!). Sometimes change for change’s sake, at other times because life flows in the unexpected.

A few months ago my phone rang on a Sunday morning and Dad said ‘We’re in trouble, can you come?’ My mum was lying in the back yard with a broken hip and wrist.

What flowed from that was a steep learning curve for all of us, with moments of loving grace, sharpness from ‘front line’ living, organisation, getting to grips with new social terminology, healing, care, the kindness of strangers and keeping the ship afloat. All bonded together with fear, resistance to change, quick decisions, prayers and love.

We’re several months down the road and a new routine has emerged. Mum is healing well (down to her indomitable spirit), Dad is less fearful yet poorly, support is in place and I have returned to my home, with regular visits back to flow care. Mum and I ‘sing from the same hymn sheet’ and cherish our teamwork. ❤

The tide still runs outside the house I call home as I pick up the threads of my life and business. Grateful for this peaceful space and treasured friends, who flow with unquestioning love and support.

As I go back into my clients’ homes I find myself asking the question ‘What do you need now?’ The answers have been varied and surprising. Two lovely souls needed help rediscovering the love of their homes, with each home as different as they are. We’ve had fun planning, exploring in local DIY stores and experimenting. The things we’ve purchased on-line have gifted the most fun. I found myself holding some beautiful dolphin decals yesterday , looking at my client and commenting ‘Gosh, maybe we ought to have checked the measurements!’ They are now leaping across her bathroom window and loo seat, raising smiles for all who need her bathroom.

It’s been a sign of discovery for me. ❤

Loving roots manifest…..

The phone has started to ring for my new venture and not one call has been for cleaning. Most calls start with ‘Hello Jane, can you……?’ and the requests are for help with de-cluttering; sifting, sorting and creating calm in their homes, for all sorts of reasons and happenings. My heart is touched that folk feel safe to share their vulnerability.

Things are brought back to my happy bubble and I am selling on anything of use to others. Then in turn passing on clothing and accessories to my aqua buddy, who runs a second hand clothing shop. Anything else not obviously saleable is going to my buddy down the road, who runs a house clearance service and shop. He has been there for years and often helps those in difficulties with gifts for their homes. He gifted me some tins with lids, and with a named tape (and heart) on the handle of each one, they sit on my shelf to collect the abundance for my clients as their things sell.

It’s all community based and as I returned home yesterday I felt full of loving gratitude. The people I am meeting, love, stories and laughter we are sharing, hard graft, fresh air, support of loved ones and buddies and loving roots manifesting. I thought I would be cleaning, but life had another purpose and I am loving how this is growing. ❤

Chop wood and carry water….

Pause and repeat; there were more gladioli at the supermarket, in a bucket without water, and they found their way home with me. As they revived and opened, these glorious blooms have brought beautiful hope into each room.

A lovely friend and I discovered that we have been saying the same phrase recently; ‘Chop wood and carry water’. ❤ Valerie.

Each day we flow with our daily round and do what needs to be done. Amidst it all, instinctive wisdom has had space to float up and I am grateful for that. Knitting helps; as my hands are busy, I can hear my inner self in the silence.

A monthly craft stall is arranged for the creativity that is pouring forth from my hands. When did we get so busy that doing the things that come naturally, that love and nurture us, became relegated to a hobby?

The flyers for my cleaning care project are at the printers.

Each day I chop wood and carry water, yet the stirrings of the 'new' are there as they take shape. Naturally making themselves heard, without judgment, as I learn to cease judging myself. Loving care and support from beloved connections flows daily.

I feel that if we try and hold on to anything that does not balance for us; ways, people, patterns, roles, thoughts, actions, judgment and labels….we tear.

On a light note; when I talked to a friend about my cleaning care project, her immediate response had us creased with laughter.

'I always knew you were a scrubber.'

Gifts of grace…..

A sky of milky glass as the tide arrives with a respectful hush and in silence life flows with shafts of sparkling light.

Deep gratitude felt for stillness and the graceful gift of vulnerability, as light shining through the cracks creates space for creativty and change.

“Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops – at all” Emily Dickinson

Perceptions….

I am currently halfway through writing a book about my internet dating adventures, thanks to the ‘spark’ from a lovely friend. This is throwing up all sorts of issues as you can imagine and the growing ‘tongue in cheek’ belief that I may never be asked out again.

The issues are interesting, because I am protecting the identity of all the characters, but where do you draw the line on how much you divulge? I have opted to keep it real and all is in there, including the unattractive aspects about myself and my moments of shame. It is apparently funny, and written with a light hand on the tiller according to those who have been privy to excerpts. It is not an unburdening of my soul, but a snapshot of what life can be like in internet dating land for women of a certain age. A publisher asked what demographic I was aiming it at and I replied ‘Are you kidding me on?’ I may need to brush up on my promotional skills.

I shared this current activity with my Mum and Dad on a recent visit and my Mum’s face lit up as she said ‘I do hope you are including the perfect cock story in your book?’ My Dad nearly choked on his lunch.

Writing this book takes me into the heart of ‘vulnerability land’ and that can became a sticking point. I have learned over the years to write and get out of the way of myself, because time and again I would write and be ‘reading’ it at the same time. That doesn’t work I found, as judgement comes in and my insistent critical inner voice is very loud indeed. So I write without thinking and just let the words fall onto the page.

This book is about me with real life events, so I have been facing fear as I sit at my laptop each day. Fear of judgement, not being enough, not being worthy and basically writing a load of stories that no-one would feel inclined to read. Hello fear.

The last thing I want to do is have it come across like a modern day advert, or some social media posts that we are all subjected to. You know the ones: beautifully attired people fresh from a full nights sleep, just off trekking in the Himalayas, while feasting on pancakes made from fresh goat’s milk, collected as the dew still nestles on the mountain sides and the children are in hand made crocheted hats…..you get my drift. This had to be real for me to do it. So here’s the reason I am quiet and daily beating down fear. If this ‘fear bashing’ translates into my appetite being subdued then I am ahead of the game. Now where did I put my crocheted hat?

Stripped bare and the hidden wonders of vulnerability…

I had a front, a finely honed and solidly established persona that I showed the world. It carried me through some of the toughest times in my life and, glancing back, I knew of no other way to be.

My family and closest friends were used to my stock answer of ‘I am fine’ to any enquiry about how I was. Fine? I was far from it.

Recently I truly ‘let go’ and life as I knew it tumbled into dust. The loving friends who sheltered me, whilst a new path emerged, have bestowed gifts far beyond the day to day care and nurture they freely gave. A protective net extended to include some of their family and closest friends and the loving strands woven within wrap us all in safety.

In opening their home and their hearts, they have given me the gift of vulnerability. I had nowhere to run nor hide, so ‘I am fine’ would not wash. I didn’t go around weeping and wailing, instead a bare honesty emerged. Almost blinking in the daylight, I discovered that it is OK to receive and to reach out for help.

I was safely caught.

Pottering around cleaning my new nest this morning, it occurred to me that the gift of vulnerability has stopped the spiral of guilt, shame and pain that I have carried with me for years.

Now that is a good weight to lose.