finding ninki

St Valentine's Day

2012-02-14T09:06:00.002Z

I like to think of this day slightly differently to the commercialised 'norm' and the singledom backlash. Ever since I was 20 I have wished all those I love a Happy St Valentine's Day, because surely love has no boundaries and is not exclusive. I have alternatively liked and loved this day. Many may assume that my liking or disliking has been related to whether I've been single or in a relationship, but it has not. It has primarily been related to how much I have loved myself.

Apparently 'Valentine' comes from valens which means worthy, strong and powerful. These are also excellent words to describe the love you feel for someone that you truly love, whether a lover, a friend, a baby, a family member or yourself (perhaps most importantly). I would like to wish you all much love in your lives throughout the year. I hope that the love you are given and the love that you give is worthy, strong and powerful, including the love you give to yourself.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY ONE AND ALL!

Update to 'vulnerability, shame and connection'

2012-02-13T13:58:00.001Z

It seems that the link didn't work for some of you to the previous video, so here it is again.

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/en/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

If this doesn't work, search for 'Brene Brown' and/or vulnerability.

Vulnerability, shame and connection

2012-02-13T08:48:00.002Z

Precursor to my post – if you can’t be bothered reading this post, skip to the end and click the link.

I just watched a video on the most important thing about being alive: connection with others. The speaker spoke about the main things that unravel connection and the words she used were ‘shame and fear’.

To my surprise, out of nowhere it seemed, on hearing the word ‘shame’ I burst into tears. The speaker was talking about the shame of not being good enough. I guess perhaps my response came from a place of understanding what shame is and how deep it can go in each one of us. It can be hard for anyone, including me, to speak of and acknowledge shame, but most of us have felt it at some point.

She speaks about those that can connect easily, that they have a deep sense of belonging and of being lovable. Belonging is something that has come upon me partly through spending time in Croatia and understanding more about where I come from, and partly through being loved by someone that I respect and value highly. I am one of the lucky ones - not to have been given those chances, but to have been able to take those chances. Not everyone is so lucky.

My wish is for a world in which people have the courage to be imperfect, the compassion to be kind to themselves and then to others, and the desire for authenticity – to let go of who they thought they should be and to allow themselves to be who they are. It is also a wish for a world in which people see vulnerability as beautiful, as well as understanding that it is not a comfortable place to be, but that it is necessary to reach a point of connection and to find long-lasting contentment and happiness.

All this reminds me of something I saw written on a wall in Berlin years ago. I know the language used may offend some people, but I hope you can all see the sentiment behind it.

The video is here for your pleasure and inspiration.

Ninki the school child

2012-02-07T16:41:00.001Z

A man sitting behind me in this cafe asked if I was doing my homework on my laptop. "Great little things, aren't they?"

I indignantly replied that I was not doing my homework, that I was 35 years old and not a student. I felt awkward and uncomfortable, anxious about what he'd been reading over my shoulder and grateful I'd not been writing anything personal.

Now I feel sad. I had a sense that he was lonely, trying to make conversation. I rejected him. I feel sad because of the assumptions I made about him, wondering if he liked school children in an inappropriate way, though thinking about it now, maybe he'd be better able to tell the difference between a school child and a grown woman if he was that way inclined. I feel sad about the assumptions I made about him, because, now I am thinking about it, maybe he has a daughter the same age as me with whom he has limited contact and so instead he tried to contact me. I feel sad about feeling I needed to protect myself. I feel sad that he didn't know how to approach me without making me feel uncomfortable. I am reminded of others I know who struggle to connect and I feel sad for them too, because connection is such an important part of my own life.

It's so hard to genuinely meet with others sometimes and that makes me sad too. So much time wasted on missed connections and misunderstandings.

Introvert versus extravert

2012-01-30T16:22:00.000Z

My brother sent me a link to an interesting article on the needs and definitions of extraverts and introverts. I am aware that such definitions seem to vary and change with popular psychological trend, or certainly have in the 15 years since I first heard the terms.

I always used to think I was an extravert, but of late I have been wondering if actually I'm a very sociable introvert. I used to love going out and dancing, but I've become aware that I loved most dancing on my own, big smile on my face, absorbed in the music, with friends around me that I did not have to interact with other than to smile, occasionally hug and very occasionally talk to. I also loved running and exercising with friends, where you have company but don't always need to chat. I prefer one-to-one more than groups, although sometimes I adore the group energy and am fascinated by the dynamics. I also prefer meeting in peaceful places, like cafes.

I've always disliked superficial chit chat and others around me are astounded at what personal and interesting information I manage to glean from those I meet. I am very sociable and confident with others, but I do not like too much stimulation. I also do not like company for company's sake. I am choosy about who I spend time with.

Sometimes I find background music physically and mentally stressful. The complexity of sound and background 'noise' feels too much to take in. I long to have silence, but when you share your space with someone who craves sound and noise, it can be hard to explain that you are 'actively listening to the silence'! After a period of socialising I often feel tired. I crave down time and peace. I seek my own solitude. Once I come out of needing my own space, I am very open to contact, physical and mental, often much more so than others. Perhaps, more so than others who are less good at getting their own space and time-out or realising when they need it. This is something I have learned to be very good at, so that I can enjoy the social time that I love so very much.

I wonder now, looking back, whether we can change or move up and down this spectrum, or whether, when I was younger, I was simply less aware of my needs. Who knows? Whatever, it is an interesting issue and if it helps to raise awareness, tolerance and acceptance of difference, then I am all for the debate!

Is there a real you?

2012-01-28T08:55:00.005Z

Happened across this fascinating talk about whether there is a real 'you', that is the essence of yourself, fixed, unchanging. The speaker suggests not.

He suggests instead that we should not think of ourselves as 'things' that do not change, but as 'processes' that are in constant flux, like a waterfall, that clearly is, but is also clearly never the same.

I wanted to share it with you, so here it is: Julian Baggini on TED

It's the little things

2012-01-24T22:03:00.003Z

There's something about Amelie that touches me and warms the cockles of my heart every time I watch it. I know what it is now.

It's because in order for the film to have been made, there must be someone else in the world who thinks like I do, who loves like I do and who sees the world like I do. That is a beautiful feeling. I feel happy that someone else is as lucky as I am. I hope that some day everyone in the world feels love like I do, sees the beauty in the small and seemingly insignificant things in the world and knows that life is precious and wonderful.

Sending love out to you all.

How to make the future a good one

2012-01-14T09:15:00.003Z

Just watched a video on TED. It's quite possibly the most inspiring video I have seen for a long time and it made me quite choked up, as well as making me laugh out loud many times.

It's about how education kills creativity, and it's about how essential creativity is for our futures and the future of our children - the future in which our children will be living. It choked me up because although some very wonderful teachers and adults positively encouraged me (especially my old English teacher, Mrs McDonnell), most killed me inside through moulding me into their vision of what the world needed. Not their fault and I am grateful for what they taught me - I am just sad about the part of me that was ignored, or at least, not watered and fed.

In the last few years my creativity has been released, somehow, and is growing stronger and more resilient. It makes me feel alive, eyes wide open and fully appreciative of everything in my world, from those I love, to a little cat crossing my path, to the shape of a puddle.

Anyway, I wanted to share this video by Ken Robinson with you, because it had a huge impact on me.

Particularly look out for his stories about the little girl drawing God, his son's nativity play and the man in the forest. They made me laugh so much. Click here.

Love to all.

Aymara time

2012-01-07T09:09:00.003Z

A friend shared this link with me on how the Aymara people of South America perceive time.

They see the past in front of themselves, because it is known and they can see it; and the future behind them, because it has not yet happened and they know and can see nothing of it. I found this concept fascinating. Some of the elder Aymarans, so the article reports, refuse to even discuss the future, because nothing sensible can be said about it.

The interesting thing is, the article also points out ambiguities of direction of time in the English language too - where we might say that we have arrived ahead of time (that is, earlier than we expected), where it kind of sounds like time is somehow moving backwards and we see ourselves as moving through time. Similarly with 'the meeting was moved forward a day from Wednesday'. Grammatically, it appears to be correct to understand this as Tuesday - a day ahead of time; or Thursday, where the meeting itself is moved forwards into the future by a day.

It's great to know that it's not just me that gets confused by the direction of time. I really think we should just give up on this linear concept anyway. It's just too confusing!

Here's the link again, if you didn't notice it earlier on the page: Aymara perception of time

Time

2012-01-04T08:56:00.000Z

Occasionally, especially after meditation, time does funny things. Today, when I was looking at my analogue clock, it seemed as if the second hand was going the wrong way and very slowly at that. I did a double take and realised it was not - this double take was accompanied by a kind of shift, where the second hand did a skip and a jump, and maybe a wobble too. The thing is, I am not sure if it was actually going anticlockwise (and I think not), or whether for some reason my mind expected it to be going anticlockwise, so clockwise suddenly seemed rather wrong.

I love it when time perception does funny things and I am curious as to whether this ever happens to anyone else.

Silver linings

2011-12-26T20:12:00.002Z

So I finally get to Heathrow, make it through passport control and pick up my bag remarkably quickly. I find my coach stop back to Reading. I wait. An Italian man asks me about where to buy a ticket. I am very helpful and friendly to him. I wait some more. I realise the last two buses have not come. I call my man and the coach website says last coach went 15 minutes before I ever had a chance of getting to it. The Italian man never came back to tell me that I was waiting for a bus that would never come.

I check the London underground. None are working. There are buses into London, but no trains back out of London. Most people I know are out of London visiting family. There is no way for me to get home except by taxi.

I call my insurance people to ask if they'd pay for a cab. The people I need to speak to are not available until 8.30am tomorrow morning. They cannot help me. What is the point of Platinum cover if they are not there when I need them?

I feel discouraged. I speak to my man and he tells me he will drive three hours to come and get me. My heart lifts. I find a 24-hour cafe with leather sofas AND decaf tea AND soya milk. And, it would appear, wifi access, though somewhat pricey. I am not stranded after all, and I am sitting here with tea and chocolate cupcake. Shortly I will do some work I need to do before the end of this week.

Although none of what happened today is quite how I would have liked it to be, I am okay and I will be home by midnight or shortly after. Nothing disastrous has happened. I am just tired and slightly disgruntled. I am grateful that things are not as bad as they could be.

I am smiling. :-)

Gol to Oslo

2011-12-26T19:58:00.001Z

Well, that was on the negative side of what I would call 'exciting'. I must be getting old, but last minute journeying is not my idea of fun. I am sure it is exacerbated by my Croatian genes, which require me to ideally be ready to get on a train, plane or boat at least four hours in advance of it leaving.

Anyway, I was praying to anyone who might be up there to get me to the airport on time and to preferably delay my flight. It turned out the flight was not only fully on time, but actually all ready to leave (and arrive) early except for one thing: I wasn't on it. I even had the embarrassment of having my name called out at the airport – telling me to hurry up. I have to confess that the last remnants of 'nice Nina' left me at that point and I wanted to shout at them and tell them that it wasn't my fault a Norwegian hurricane took down the Norwegian power lines and made my Norwegian train late, such that my short little English-Croatian legs had to run through the Norwegian airport with no Norwegian travelators to speed my journey, in order that I might get to their gate on time. I will also confess that once the gate was in sight and it was not yet the official latest time to board, I stopped to ask a kind bar lady to fill up my water bottle, which she did. There was no need for them to shout for me. I was right next to them.

Anyway, I finally boarded to face a full plane of intermittently bored and sympathetic faces. The relief I felt was phenomenal. The pilot happily told us that we were still ahead of time and so we sat and waited to take off…and then we sat and waited some more. It turned out that it wasn't just me slowing things down – the tow truck was stuck to the side of the plane and they couldn't get if off! As it was, we only left 10 minutes late, but I really didn't care. I was grateful to be on the plane at all.

I had a beautiful holiday in Norway with my wonderful brother and my generous and easy-going second sister. I felt very sad to be leaving them, knowing that they are now living further away than they once did and not knowing when I will be sharing a physical space with them again. I guess that’s the downside of loving people that are spread around the world. I feel their absence wherever I am.

But then I stop and think of the silver lining. I might feel the absence of loved ones wherever I am, but I also feel the presence of loved ones in many places across the world. I am, in that respect, a very lucky person. Despite being sad to leave my brother and second sister, I am happy to be going home to a country where I understand the implications of the varied yet somehow predictable weather.

Off I go again tomorrow on a hopefully more relaxing trip into London to see my 'first' sister. Just let me get home first and lay my head on my own pillow…

First ever knitted scarf

2011-12-25T13:54:00.001Z

And this is my present to myself. My first ever attempt at knitting - a scarf with tassels.

Norwegian Xmas hat

2011-12-25T12:11:00.000Z

Courtesy of my brother's girlfriend. Very happy me!

Happy Christmas 2011

2011-12-23T18:48:00.001Z

Happiness is...

2011-12-22T21:44:00.003Z

...sitting in front of a deliciously warm wood burning stove, with a cup of tea, a bowl of dark chocolate mixed up with dried fruit and nuts, good company chilling out around me, and attempting to knit my own scarf.

Very meditative and peaceful. Happy Ninki.

Snow hair

2011-12-22T11:43:00.001Z

So this is apparently what happens to breathed-on hair when it's below -15*C. You'll see the same happened to my scarf too. I found it absolutely fascinating. My nostrils kept sticking together as the same also happened to my nasal hairs and the cartilage felt as if it was ossifying - this was rather uncomfortable and unpleasant, I have to confess, but I loved the whole head-hair thing!

Anyway, my hair felt crispy as if it had been deep fried, yet turned wet when I held it as presumably the ice started to melt. Such a peculiar thing. The things you discover in different climates is just wonderful. Who'd have thought that hair could be so amazingly entertaining!

The happiness ripple

2011-12-22T08:30:00.000Z

This was my thought for the day, which made me smile when it arrived in my inbox courtesy of Inner Space.

When you're happy, your happiness ripples out to other people - at work, at home, even to the strangers around you.

Your happiness gives others hope. It makes a difference. So spread the warmth of happiness.

Random Norwegian (and other) things

2011-12-21T21:23:00.001Z

In no particular order, we came across a table of Norwegian gingerbread houses, made by local adults and children.

Little gingerbread houses

Little hungry woodpecker - for my Mama and Dad

And then me and my lovely brother wandered up to the local transformer (part of the hydroelectric station). Took some pictures of us, ice crystals, barbed wire and random metal things (aka the transformer).

Bro and me

Transformer

Ice crystals

Flying pigs

Night snow

2011-12-21T21:01:00.000Z

On one of the last days of my lovely man's presence here in Norway, we went for a walk in the evening's very long twilight period. Here are some piccies from our walk.

Pretty tractor in snow and outdoor Christmas tree in more snow, with even more snow falling!

Once we were almost home (but still in the woods) we had hot tea at a snow-covered picnic table and some very chilled (almost frozen) yoghurt.

I became quite mesmerised by the beautiful design of the snowflakes on my gloves and tried to get a good picture, but didn't quite manage to get what I wanted. This picture just about shows you what I was entranced by (see single flake in middle of picture).

Snowflake(s) - see central white blob in picture

Return from hill top house

2011-12-21T20:58:00.002Z

I almost forgot - this was the absolutely stunning view I had from the Dyane (with roasty toasty new heater) on our return drive from the hill top house referred to in 'Gentler activities'.

Gentler activities

2011-12-20T08:01:00.001Z

On Sunday, having attempted snowboarding on Saturday while being premenstrual (and therefore having very poor balance and co-ordination), I decided I needed a gentle day, so I went with my brother and his girlfriend to visit one of their friends - a kind gentle New Zealander who lives in a house he built 30 years ago - while they went off to ski.

I sat with their friend a while, drinking loose leaf tea made with tea filters and in a pot, chomping on home made chocolate chip cookies, and we talked mainly about Norway, his house building and our work. He scans sheep to see if they are pregnant and he manages the green at the local golf course. Shortly he went off to do some chores and I remained in his hill top house with its enormous windows, wood burning stove and views of snow, pines and hills, slowly watching the sun go down, enjoying its light on my face. It is a beautiful place to live, peaceful, but somewhat isolated, I felt. I spent some time 'working from home' in this heavenly place, until the crew returned, all cold and ready for more tea and cookies.

Yesterday I did girlie shopping stuff and picked up some fabulous bargains from what is quite possibly the best charity shop I've ever visited. I know my sister would love it - her only challenge would be how to carry all the stuff back home again!

Today and tomorrow I am working from home again, but staying in my brother's house. There is no sunshine visible from his house this deep into winter, so instead I am watching the old moon rise over the hill line, as the sky slowly starts to brighten.

Frozen water based activities

2011-12-16T08:59:00.004Z

So we finally managed to attempt a spot of cross-country skiing. Took us a while of trekking around, carting skis and sticks, to not find and then find a suitable nursery area for us skiing sproglings. It was beautiful hiking around the snow-covered wonderland. With the forests and the lighting and the sparkling diamond snow, it felt exactly how I imagine I would feel in Narnia. Absolutely divinely pretty!

View from front of van while driving

Front and back view at the same time!

Later in the evening, we headed out to do a spot of ice-skating. It was a completely different experience to in England. No queue at the boot hire place, no rush to do things quickly, enormous amounts of space on the vast outdoor rink. It was also pretty cheap compared with England - around £6 for as long as you wanted.

There were also no barriers to crash into, so I had to remember how to stop. The surface of the ice was smooth and quite frightening to start, but I quickly realised how much better my skates were - longer, sharper blades that cut smoothly into the ice. It was a beautiful sensation, almost like flying, and completely effortless.

While we were skating in an inner ring (much larger than UK outdoor rinks and marked only with mounds of snow) or around the outside of the inner ring, the speed skaters were racing around the outer edge of the large outer ring. Eventually Santa arrived and the littlest people disappeared to visit him, while the larger kids and adults vanished into the club house for prize giving from the skating races. This meant that Damae and I could rebelliously skate on the speed skaters' patch - an even smoother and cleaner feeling under the feet.

With toes numb and frozen, I eventually decided I'd had enough and I went indoors to the club house, where fresh waffles and jam were being served with hot drinks...and then they started to give the last waffles away for free, so I had another!

A satisfying and enjoyable day.

Trip to snow-covered peaks

2011-12-16T08:52:00.001Z

Snow mounds

Driving up to the peaks, I saw mounds of snow, like snow dunes. Quite surreal and very pretty.

Snow dune making machine

Then we saw the snow dune making machine. This is what made those mounds. It all felt very abandoned up there, a bit like a snowy ghost village, without the houses...

(Later post update: according to my brother while this is indeed a machine, it is not a snow dune making machine).

Traffic lights

Again, a bit surreal waiting for ages on an empty road, at random traffic lights, with no other traffic...

Snow Mama!

2011-12-14T17:01:00.001Z

Snow still here but melting. Not enough to go skiing or to do anything sporty, so we decided to make a snowman. During the extremely skilled creative process, she turned into a Snow Mama and very happy she is too.

Snow Mama

Mistletoe and wine

2011-12-14T16:54:00.003Z

Well, no mistletoe or wine, but time for the Christmas tree!

Finally found a good place for it in the kitchen.

Gol in the snow

2011-12-14T16:48:00.001Z

I'm not yet sure if Gol is really pretty just because it's covered in snow, but today it was warmer and a little slushy, but still pretty, but I am suspecting that it's just pretty. I like the fact that it's teeny tiny and everyone seems friendly and chatty.

We visited the sheepskin store and two tiny dogs were padding around, their little feet making clip-clip sounds on the wooden floorboards. The chap in there chatted for ages imparting loads of interesting information about the history of the sheepskin market. He told us that whole families would sleep naked in one bed a long time ago, warmed by one enormous sheepskin rug. He also showed us a wooden marital bed, that had been repainted in 1852 - can't remember the actual date of production. Inside was an old marital sheepskin quilt with traditional markings for protection (an animal) and fertility (sunshine and water). The materials were soft and luxurious, but very expensive - Karl Lagerfield had apparently a quilt from him some time ago (and said it okay to tell others about this). Took off his glasses, but not his gloves.

Anyway, I'll pop some pics below of our trek around Gol.

Over the river

River icicles

Oslo to Gol

2011-12-14T16:34:00.003Z

Flying saucer lights at Oslo airport train station

Penultimate train station on our way to Gol from Oslo by train - snowy!

Paying for beauty

2011-12-14T09:26:00.000Z

Penguins and dinosaurs with hats on, little red hearts, snowflakes, a plane with a slide at the end. Are all these things designed for children or for adults too? I love the little security cameras, white and sleek, like old fashioned oil streetlamps made from the carcass of a stormtrooper. Tiny little Christmas trees with red hearts for decoration, a large gold tree made of little gold paper chain people and red paper hearts. It's well-organised with lots of wood and clean glass. Different worlds on different levels, all visible as I travel down the escalator into the bowels. Yes, Oslo airport is a place I could come back to. Despite the £15 bill for the single unpleasant curry chicken sandwich and two cups of tea, Oslo airport is a place I will come back to (with home-made sandwiches wrapped in cling film).

Preferences not expectations

2011-12-09T11:43:00.001Z

Another thought for the day from Inner Space that struck a note with me.

We all have expectations on how we we want things to happen.

When things don't happen the way you want them to, instead of getting frustrated and disappointed, tell yourself: "I would have preferred 'A', but now that 'B' has happened, it's OK!"

Have preferences, not expectations. "I'd prefer if people were thoughtful, but when they're rude, it's not going to ruin my day." "I'd prefer sunshine but rain is OK!"

Play this game in your head, and you'll feel more peaceful.

Love

2011-12-05T14:21:00.001Z

I came across this quote that I scribbled down in a notebook years ago, that I am now flicking through. Reading it again made my heart skip a beat and my lungs skip a breath, then tears came to my eyes, because I know what it is to love like this. I know how beautiful love can be and I feel so very lucky to have had and to keep having this experience.

"When you come back inside my chest, no matter how far I've wandered off, I look around and see the way. At the end of my life, with just one breath left, if you come then, I'll sit up and sing."

(Birdsong, Rumi)

Failure is death

2011-12-05T10:00:00.001Z

"To him, a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune a tragedy, a joy an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover a God and failure is death."

(Pearl S Buck describing a highly sensitive person - quoted in Therapy Today, Nov 2011, BACP magazine in the article 'Epilepsy and emotional wellbeing' by Tony Warren)

I read this and it caught at my heart. I couldn't work out why. I know people like this, for whom life affects them more than others, or more than me, certainly. Sometimes this person is me, or has been me. Especially when I've already been vulnerable, or rather, how I prefer to think of it, open. It's when we are open, when our hearts are laid bare to the world, that things will affect us more deeply.

What I am left with is that we're all very different. We don't really know how anything will impact another person and so we need to try to be aware, to have our eyes open. We need to look out for other people. We're all part of one thing, one human race, so why shouldn't we put a tiny bit more effort into seeing how we affect the other person, if only so that when we do accidentally deliver a blow, we can try to make sure that they fall gently and don't hurt themselves even more...or when they are lying on the ground, we don't kick them - we give them water.

It's not always possible to avoid hurting another, but it is possible to avoid delivering a fatal blow. It's not always possible to prevent someone failing, but it is possible to help them see that there is something beyond that failure. It's not always possible to prevent heartbreak, but you can prevent yourself adding to that damage.

I don't know where this leaves me. Still open I guess. Still pondering.

Six months (ish) on

2011-12-02T17:13:00.001Z

I think of her most days. She was like a second mother. Sometimes I talk to her, as if she was still here, just in case she can hear me.

I wonder if I think of her more than when she was here. I wonder if this is to be the fate of all of us and I feel sad. Then I realise that in her going, I think more often about everyone I love.

Maybe this will be my fate, to be thought of more often once I’m gone, but there's not much I can do about how much others think about me. I can only change what I do. Those I love are in my thoughts more, because of her leaving, and I feel I show my love more than I used to. I try to have compassion when I am frustrated. I try to understand more when I am annoyed. I try to be gentler when others don't understand me. I try to be more congruent and honest in my actions and my words. I'm not a saint and I get things wrong all the time, but I'm trying harder to show those I love that I love them, in small ways. I know they may not see what I do because we all show love in different ways, but I can't change that either. What I can do, instead, is to try to see what others do to show me that they love me. To see their small efforts that previously might have gone unnoticed by me.

In tiny little ways, we can change our own worlds. We can listen to the lessons that life gives to us and by doing so make our lives more beautiful.

Schnruuuf

2011-11-28T14:02:00.001Z

That's how I feel. Snot, stuffy, cloggy, schloppy, flobby, blurrrgh, frrrlllyar. I don't like this tug of war with bugs. Wish I was stronger to zap them on day one. It's been THREE days of phleur.

Can't sleep because snot stuffs up my nostrils and stops me breathing through my nose, making me breathe through my mouth and drying out my tonsils, which then creak like an old door that needs oiling. Then my tonsils start to hurt. My head feels full of cotton wool, but not that nice stuff growing on plants in Oxford Botanical Gardens (amazing - didn't realise it grew ready made), more like the stuff from a cheap corner shop that scratches and feels more like greaseproof paper. It's like there is a band of thick fog in between each ear from top lip upwards to my eyebrows. Even my eyeballs feel wrong - kind of hot and too deep in my head. The rest of me is fine.

*sigh*

Guess I better go back to bed and try to inhale more Olbas Oil and Tiger Balm. Anyone with entertaining videos or links, please send them to me ASAP. I need entertaining.

SNOW!!!

2011-11-25T15:20:00.001Z

It's snowing in Gol in Norway! Come on white Christmas, you can do it! Snow for Ninki!!! :-)

My elf

2011-11-25T08:04:00.001Z

I shall be receiving a visitation from my mother today and find myself terribly excited. She's not visited our little home yet, not since I moved here over a year ago. I bought some new purple pillow cases just for her (though I dreamed last night that I had hundreds of old ones, which for some reason made me anxious) and I know I had better go out and buy some bread. She is Croatian. She needs bread.

I also notice that of late I keep writing 'my elf' instead of 'myself'. I like this. I think myself is possibly the same as my inner elf.

Excitement bubbles up and over.

The evil vegetable peeler

2011-11-23T09:41:00.001Z

Not a good idea to carve a nail out along with the carrot peelings. After squeaking a bit (and being ignored by my lovely man) I went off to hunt down some nail clippers to chop off the offending bit of nail. The problem was it went too deep, so I squeaked some more in mild panic and squeamishness.

He finally came to see what the squeaking was about when I was busy gluing the nail back on with superglue. Kind man closed the lid of the glue for me. Anyway, following a nice buff with my nail buffer, my nail looks as good as new. :-)

Hurrah for lateral thinking! And boooo to the evil vegetable peeler!

An old avocado

2011-11-22T08:51:00.001Z

I found him this morning in the fridge where I'd put him to preserve his life. As I lifted him out of his cradle, my finger went through his skin and I saw that inside he had turned to pure green powder. I'd left him too long.

I felt a sense of guilt and sadness, as I always have done since I was small child, when food is left unused, mouldy before it can even be prepared. In my early years, perhaps aged seven, I used to count each mouthful of fishfinger and dedicate it to a family member before I ate it, so that it would have a greater purpose in its life than just as my lunch, though obviously that purpose of keeping me alive is great indeed.

I realise now, of course, that my sadness at a piece of fruit without purpose to its life is clearly a projection relating to the fears for my own life, the great need I have for my life to have purpose, and how sad I would feel if I died without having made a difference, and guilty too, for having wasted my talents.

The thing I have just realised as I write, however, is that we often don't know the impact we have on others. We don't always know the differences we have made to the world, however small or great, or however good or bad (though in the long run, who is to say what is good and what is bad - that's the choice we make when we respond to something). Sometimes the differences are right there before our eyes, but we don't think laterally, so we don't see. Despite my sadness at the avocado this morning, my heart is lifting as I see that he provided a space for mould to grow - he was a life-giver for mould.

Six degrees

2011-11-16T09:19:00.001Z

It's only 6°C, which means winter has finally arrived. Crisp, misty and clean-smelling - kind of like a sharp blue scent, with tiny swirls of white in it. How exciting! :-)

Delirium

2011-11-14T12:07:00.001Z

I am deliriously excited today for the simple realisation that we have a dry cleaner's around the corner.

I also meditated, did yoga and hula hooped before breakfast; have done some editing work on my book; enquired about professional insurance and room bookings for counselling work; checked on my domain name; given some thought to a logo and requested the development of one (from an excellent graphic designer friend); and have done two loads of washing and the dishes. Lunch break, then six minor chores, before getting down to the task of more editing (accompanied by a nice cup of tea with soya milk in a cafe).

This girl is cooking on gas today!

No complaining

2011-11-14T08:41:00.001Z

Today's thought for the day, as sent to me by Inner Space in Covent Garden, is:

"Complaining just wrecks the mood and motivation for ourselves and others.

So, today, practice the 'No Complaining Rule'. Even if you're having a really bad day, put things into perspective. Look for the silver lining on the cloud. Live in a state of appreciation.

Appreciate at least one thing about each person you meet. Appreciate all that life has to offer, whether it's the chance to breathe in the fresh air or watch the sunset during your commute home. Appreciate all the little events you take for granted."

Golden sneeze dust and fairy lights

2011-11-13T16:28:00.001Z

We went cycling in Bracknell Forest yesterday and it was delightful.

It was as if a giant had sneezed gold dust randomly to his left and his right, as he'd been ambling along the tracks in the Forest. It was blindingly beautiful, the dark green, interspersed with the bright gold of the silver birch leaves. On the ground, the delicate threads of grass were decorated with the diamonds of tiny droplets of water and, here and there, our giant had sneezed again, on random clumps of grass, now turned golden, set among the green.

Nature is truly beautiful if you take the time to stop and look at it. To look for the contrasts in light and dark, the textures, the patterns and the tiny movements of woodland animals and ladybirds (of which there are a surprising number, in red, black and gold).

Today was a day plucked from Spring and the sun shone his warmth and his light so brightly all day. In our joy at such a heavenly day, we impulsively bought a Christmas tree - not a real one mind, just a teeny tiny white one complete with baubles, lights and tinsel. I shall post a picture once we've set it up, as obviously it will require great concentration and effort and is not something to be done in five minutes.

Life is good and I must remember this when I am dissolving into tears of worry at not having a 'proper' job. Everything good comes to those who wait and who keep their eyes wide open.

Happy Sunday evening to all of you. xxxx

Water

2011-11-08T19:56:00.001Z

I've been sick, a minor irritation in the big scheme of world sickness, but nevertheless, I was sick. I couldn't eat food or even drink just a sip water and keep it down. Now, as I drain a full glass of clean, fresh water, I appreciate the flavour, the texture, the sensation of coolness that flows down my gullet. It is delicious and I am aware, again, of how wonderful this fluid is.

I've been sick, as you know, and not left my home in two days. A minor irritation in the big scheme of world imprisonment, but nevertheless, I've been stuck indoors. Today, when I went outside for the first time, it was dark and a gentle mist-like rain fell from above. The delicious sensation of the droplets landing on my skin and my eyelashes is indescribable in its beauty and in the delight that coursed through my veins, and again, I am aware of how lucky I am that I have a life in which water is so freely available to me.

The answer

2011-11-08T08:30:00.004Z

That was pretty nasty! I spent Sunday night from about midnight to 8am vomiting on the hour. I felt as if someone had reached inside my tummy and was twisting it around and squeezing it in their enormous fist. In between pain and vomiting, I just felt nauseous and unable to sleep.

By 8am the nausea had ceased and I began to realise that I was going to live - I don't deal very well with nausea! I slept solidly until about half twelve, whereupon I was woken by my lovely man returning from work to check on me, make me up another bottle of rehydration drink and have his lunch. I then slept for another five hours or so and woke 'ravenous', so I consumed a banana (in two halves, one hour apart and cut into little slices). Finally, my lovely man arrived home for the evening and fed me one grated apple (allowed to brown for maximum benefit) and some plain rice with salt, boiled with one garlic clove (to obtain benefit from its anti-bacterial and anti-viral properties). I slept again until just gone 7am.

Now usually I wake up groggy and sleepy. Today I woke slightly weak but with no fog of the mind at all! I felt rested, relatively cheery and hungry. Clearly this is the answer - 20 hours sleep only waking for small talk and food. No wonder babies are such happy little creatures.

Synaesthesia

2011-11-07T17:34:00.000Z

I studied this at uni briefly, but one of my brothers recently sent me a link to it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synaesthesia

One of the sentences really struck me: "In spatial-sequence, or number form synesthesia, numbers, months of the year, and/or days of the week elicit precise locations in space (for example, 1980 may be "farther away" than 1990), or may have a (three-dimensional) view of a year as a map (clockwise or counterclockwise)."

If it says what it means, then I think I get that, but I thought that it was a normal way to view time - primarily I'm thinking months, years and decades which I see in my mind's eye as always being associated with set blocks within larger blocks, and interspersed with pictures and images, like photos, relative to that time timeframe - and they stretch away from me, becoming harder to see clearly as I look back, unless I 'travel' back in time in my mind's eye and land on a place from my past, then I see more clearly. I get it with days too, they appear truncated visually, with lines and boundaries between distinct portions of time.

I had another odd number thing when I small - when I was asked a maths problem, I created or had this man spontaneously appear in my head. He lived in a little cobwebby room with a bed and a wardrobe, and he would hold up a sign that showed the maths problem and the solution too. This no longer happens, but I do often see things visually in my mind's eye when people talk or when I think about things in a meditative manner.

I also see visual images in response to people's thoughts or feelings, especially when I am counselling clients. I am only now learning what to do with them e.g. one client appeared for a split second as a grotesque goblin and it emerged a few sessions later that she saw herself as ugly. It used to freak me out a little, but I decided that it was just a different way of seeing and processing information, that actually provides me with greater clarity and insight than otherwise.

It's Movember time!

2011-11-04T16:45:00.001Z

Anyone who can, you have a duty to grow your mo!

This is November (a few days late - I apologise) the month for raising awareness of prostate and testicular cancer through the spectacular efforts of moustache growing, or slightly more snappily known as Movember. I can't grow one, sadly, so I have faked it. I know, I know - you thought it was real, right? ;-)

For more information, go to http://uk.movember.com/.

A final word for the gentlemen:

Please check regularly and don't deprive the world of your jewels or the lovely uniqueness that is you!

Gripe

2011-11-03T07:56:00.002Z

You used to press 'enter' and the cursor went down to the blog post itself from the title. Now it goes to 'publish'. What a silly and totally non intuitive idea.

Happiness

2011-11-03T07:55:00.003Z

I get a thought for the day and today's was this:

"Happiness is not a destination, it's a journey.
Happiness is not tomorrow, it is now.
Happiness is what you are, not what you have."

Beans on toast (version 2)

2011-10-27T13:49:00.001+01:00

I had intended to write the following in the previous post:

I'm tired of 'heavy' posts and talking about 'important' things, so I'm going to talk about beans on toast.

However, I appear to have accidentally pressed 'publish.' As such, instead of writing the rest of my intended blog post, I'm going to leave you to think about the subject of BEANS ON TOAST all on your own. Only the nice things, mind...or if you have to think of the unpleasant side effects, I encourage you to also think about easy ways of alleviating any negativity e.g. throwing open your windows to let in the nice fresh air.

It's positivity and the so-called unimportant that we're focusing on for today.

PS For those that are unhappy with my suggestion, you are perfectly at liberty to substitute the beans for peanut butter and the bread for gluten-free bread or rice cakes. Do whatever you want, but don't give me obstacles. We're not doing obstacles today. We're doing solutions.

Beans on toast

2011-10-27T13:42:00.001+01:00

From prison to haven

2011-10-25T18:21:00.000+01:00

I covered the lower portion of our windows with opaque privacy sheets today. It looks fine, but it feels a little like I am hidden away, like Rapunzel in her tower. I can't see out without standing, but also no-one else can see in, which is, I guess, the whole point.

I am sitting at home, working (except for the few minutes it takes to write this), and it is dark outside now. My blinds are closed, but behind them my window is slightly open and I can hear the rain falling outside. A moment ago thunder cracked above me and the fog of my mind lifted slightly.

The deliciousness of being indoors, working late, cosy and warm, while the rain falls in torrents outside and the thunder cracks overhead, has changed my perception of my Rapunzel tower. It's funny how the day and the night cast such different lights on so many events. Now I am happy for my opaque privacy sheets, knowing that I am safe and that no-one outside can see me without me knowing of their existence.

Changing your reality

2011-10-24T15:41:00.001+01:00

Reality A: I've been thinking that if we'd been home, we'd not have been burgled. If only we'd not been shopping, we'd have been home and he wouldn't have broken our door down. If our neighbours had been home, he couldn't have got in, because he'd have made too much noise. If only I'd left my laptop somewhere safer, it wouldn't have been taken. If my friend hadn't been here, she'd not have lost some of her things too. If only the police had come sooner. If only he'd put his bike in the garage.

Reality B: If we'd come home earlier, it could have been so much worse. If I'd not backed up my laptop, I'd have lost so much. If my friend hadn't been here, I'd have been alone. If my man didn't have such good friends, I'd have been sitting in an unsecured home for longer; afraid and vulnerable. If our neighbours weren't so lovely, we'd have been cold and gone hungry that night, until the police finally arrived gone midnight. If the police had come sooner, maybe someone else would have been left out in the cold, alone, afraid or hurt. He will get a new bike. I will get a new laptop to replace the old one I had, lighter, sleeker, less likely to give me pain in my shoulders through its weight. She will get an improved version of what she lost. We will get a new door, making our home even safer. I lose two days of my work, but I also lose pain and I gain greater safety.

Why do we get so attached to belongings? They don't love us and hold us when we feel afraid or alone. They don't listen when we need to talk. They don't pick us up when our hearts and bodies are weary. They don't celebrate with us when we achieve something we've worked hard for.

It's easy to focus on the pain, the hurt and the anxiety in our lives; but it makes for a happier life to focus on the whole picture and to think of how much worse things could have been. It's about showing gratitude for what we have, rather than lamenting what we don't have. I don't know why all this happened, but I don't have to know. I can only trust that whatever happens, happens for a reason; and you can't change the facts anyway. The thing you can change is your reality.

Life teaches us good lessons in all sorts of bizarre and unexpected ways.

Endings

2011-10-07T18:35:00.005+01:00

Some people don't deal well with endings. Some people prefer to be sullen because they didn't get everything their own way. Some people get aggressive and throw a tantrum, like a child throwing its toys out of the pram. Some people take everything personally and assume that everyone else is strategic in their behaviour, to ensure the best possible outcome for themselves at the expense of others. Some people like to hit out and hurt others, because they cannot tolerate things not going their own way.

Some people don't realise that they are not seeing the truth of others, merely a reflection of themselves in others. Some people cannot accept that the reflection they see in front of them is truly their own reflection. Some people cannot see how they try to damage everyone else around them - they can only believe that others set out deliberately to damage them and their dreams.

Some people make it very easy for me to walk away from them.

The nose

2011-10-03T11:18:00.002+01:00

If you're now deeply curious, here it is, set in the middle of its usual habitat.

Me and my nose

2011-10-03T11:15:00.005+01:00

I used to hate my nose. Its funny shape and size, and the way it wiggled when I talked. I've always found it unnecessary to point out to people the things about them that are odd, worrying that maybe it might be something they were ashamed of, yet no-one seemed to consider that when around my nose.

The thing is, I didn't always hate my nose. I never used to think about it - any more than my fingers or my toes. It's only when someone said to me (on many occasions) that I had a big nose, that I began to feel ashamed of it. Whatever the reason, it made me very self-conscious of the (relatively speaking) little pointy thing in the middle of my face. It was also compared often with my mother's nose, and it cannot be denied that my beloved mother does have quite a big nose. However, when I look at my mother, I don't hate her nose. It's quite cute. She is beautiful. It doesn't mar her face.

This weekend, during an exercise of observation as part of my counselling CPD (continuing professional development), my partner made a comment about my nose being unusual. She had previously censored this comment, worrying it may hurt me, because she didn't like her own nose (which I thought was a perfectly normal and very nice nose). The thing is, her comment did hurt me, at first, when I heard 'unusual' as 'horrible'. I spent some time during the rest of that day peering at my nose from different angles. I thought about changing it and I felt quite protective over it.

I woke up this morning and realised something. I love my nose.

I love the way it wiggles when I laugh or talk - it's telling everyone more about how I feel. I love the cuteness of it from the front - a round buttony kind of thing. It is fine in size. I also thought about the fact that me and my nose have always got me what I have wanted and needed - jobs, homes, friendship, my love, adventures, fun, kindness and laughter. It has never been just me. It has always been me and my nose. I also love the fact that the funny shape of the tip of my nose is what connects me to my mother and to my sister - the only thing I have in common with my twin.

So, I am finally at peace with my nose, and all because someone finally acknowledged, unprompted, that it was indeed odd, but that odd did not mean horrid.

Ow

2011-09-30T22:12:00.002+01:00

I already had a one-hour run scheduled for this evening with my friend, so thought I'd go for a gentle ramble with my man for a couple of hours beforehand, given the weather is absolutely glorious, especially for almost-October. The problem is, 'we' got a little lost. 'Our' GPS mini bike-computer thing, wasn't very good at estimating distance. I had to stop taking photos, stop picking blackberries and get a power-walk going for the last 45 minutes. I was shattered by the time we got into the car, though we managed to be only 20 minutes late returning for my run.

I ate a very calorific chocolate bar and then headed straight back out convinced I'd be fine! I 'ran' while chatting all the way (lungs were fine), though I had to slow down and walk many more times than usual as my legs protested noisily. No, it wasn't my lungs that were the problem. It was most definitely the legs. And I am now typing this into my blog, because my legs are talking to me, telling me how much they hurt. I wish they would suffer in silence. I suspect they might be happier if I resort to granny-posture and raise my feet up on a cushion in front of me.

Maybe I'll go do that right now. Yes. Off I go.

Kindness

2011-09-29T18:07:00.003+01:00

And another I have no reference for.

I liked this one a lot because it's exactly how I've always judged my bosses. Not sure about the image, though as I look closer, I find that I am sucked in a little by the cuteness of the teensy weensy wittle wabbit. :-)

Let's eat grandma!

2011-09-29T18:01:00.000+01:00

For those of you on Facebook, you'll have seen this already, but I felt it was important enough (in my world anyway) to merit an additional sharing route! :-)

PS Not sure of the original source, so if anyone knows, let me know and I'll reference it.

Siamese twin-mushrooms

2011-09-26T21:08:00.002+01:00

PS With reference to my previous post 'Mushrooms' on Thursday 15 September, the operation to separate them was performed successfully early on the morning of Friday 16 September, immediately prior to a breakfast of toast with eggs.*

* plus mushrooms - shhhh

It's almost as if I had a child already

2011-09-26T20:56:00.002+01:00

Just been food shopping with my (35 year old) man. He got very excited about this pasta. In addition to being the cheapest 500g pack (though not as good value as the 1kg packs of a plainer nature), it is composed of little Scooby-Doo shapes - bones, that woman in it whose name I forget, ghosts and cars, among other things not yet identified through the tiny plastic window on the front of the pack.

It's also organic and tri-colore, 'naturally' coloured by spinach and tomato powder, so also containing a teensy tiny amount of vegetable and fruit. Makes you feel healthier even though it doesn't even come close to the smallest mouthful of one of your five a day...

Mushrooms

2011-09-15T15:38:00.001+01:00

This post is, as the title suggests, about mushrooms. I've been very busy and it can get stressful if I don't factor in some time to amuse myself. So this is it. The siamese twin mushrooms I found in my fridge. :-)

Cwmcarn

2011-09-05T14:53:00.002+01:00

Fabulous cycle ride in South Wales, which was a first for me and somewhat scary.

It was a real mental journey as well as a physical one, reminding me of the first few times I went snowboarding where I sat in the snow and cried because I couldn't stand up and move, and when I did I just fell over, on top of which I was exhausted from the physical exertion. This time, thankfully, my bottom didn't make contact with the ground because that would have been painful! It was a tough decision about the height of the saddle to start with, because the right distance from the peddles (to the saddle) meant I couldn't quite touch the ground; and with my toes on the ground it was much harder peddling. Anyway, I settled for easier peddling, assuming I would spend more time with my feet on the peddles than off the peddles (happily correct). It did mean a couple of painful moments with the crossbar (this being my lovely man's bike and not designed for ladies), but I quickly learned to change the way I conducted urgent dismounts.

It was so hard at the start that I began to demoralised myself, telling myself that I wasn't good enough, that I couldn't do it. The constant effort of going up and up, steeply, over big roots and slippery rocks, knowing that I wasn't even half way up. I began to get cross with my defeatest attitude and felt sorry for my patient man having to put up with me. I named that voice 'the evil badger' and spent the rest of the ride trying to banish the badger...and I did. I kept telling myself that not only could I do it, but that I was already doing it.

It's the same with anything in life. You can sit there and feel sorry for yourself, saying it's too hard, or you can't do it; or you can just stop whinging. You then realise that not only are you capable, but that you're so capable that you're already doing it. The only way to not do it, would be to die and few of us really want to take that route. It's a bit too final for most of us.

Anyway, the odd whinge is fine, I reckon, because you let off steam, and you let that little badger speak before he builds up his voice into an overwhelming bellow. But generally I think you have force yourself to cultivate the positive voice, the positive you: "You can do it", "You're already doing it", "You're doing great". That kind of thing - it sounds cheesy, but it got me to the top!

The view was heavenly and the sense of achievement was fantastic - knowing I could only see this view through having cycled it. Of course, downhill was in many ways as hard as uphill, but I was rewarded two more times. Once on the way down, going as fast as I could, I almost forgot I was cycling and it felt like I was flying. My attention was entirely and deeply focused on the narrow track in front of me, not a micro-second anywhere else. It was the best meditation. The second reward was arriving back at the car park. Warmth, chocolate and rest. And of course, all the "Well done's" from my kind and supportive man-person.

Shift

2011-08-24T10:58:00.000+01:00

I've started doing some gentle stretching exercises as given to me by the doctor and have added to the routine with some back-strengthening yoga and some flexibility postures. I've decided to do this for the next 40 days along to a beautiful mantra I discovered a month ago. This is the Adi Shakti mantra which I just adore and you can do fun little hand movements along to it, which also seem to strengthen arms and core muscles. It's like being a child again, singing along and doing the corresponding gestures! The mantra itself is designed to strengthen feminine energy, always a good one for me. Give me 40 days and I'll be like a new person, I guarantee. I'll report back how things change. :-)

Having done all my chores for the day (some this morning, some in advance yesterday evening) I am now free until 5pm, so I shall amble to a cafe and do some writing. Hurrah! Writing time. I'm so excited I can barely type this blog. I've been positively craving my writing time for days now!

Clothing customisation

2011-08-24T10:57:00.001+01:00

In the vein of saving money AND having new clothing, I've started to customise some old items.

My first was was a top, pretty colours and nice around the neckline, but too wide at the bottom. I pinched it in about 10 or so times around the hem, sewing in tiny little pleats. Looks much better now. The second was a top that I turned into a skirt. See purple skirt shown in the photo below. The black top in this photo, incidentally, was a relatively new top with a hole in it caused by a lovely dog called Boris, as he excitedly jumped up on me to say hello. He also left an entertaining stripe of what turned into scabs. Anyway, I mended this hole too, so the outfit below feels COMPLETELY new.

The fourth was a cardigan which I've had for years and have to periodically sew up all the seams as they split. All its buttons had somehow fallen off too. I sewed it back together again and added on these buttons. They're translucent but slightly coloured around the rim. A nice contrast I thought and you can just about see the different colours.

That was my evening's entertainment yesterday. :-)

Hyper drive Ninki

2011-08-23T14:36:00.002+01:00

This little Ninki is a little bit on hyper drive at the moment. I feel as if everything is happening at once - job application, two freelance projects, trying to set up my own business, trying to do my case study, helping my counselling organisation bid for new work and trying to get my book written.

On top of that it turns out that I have mild sciatica. I've had it before and much worse, so I vaguely know how to deal with it (ibuprofen, rest and gentle exercise), but it's frustrating and painful. No running or cycling, which means two buses to and a lift home from my placement (no return buses after 7.30pm - this isn't London folks!). I'm allowed only to walk fast and do some nice stretches. I guess I'd better start swimming and yoga again and cut down on the cross-trainer, rowing machine and recumbent bike machine thing. :-(

So, my focus goes inwards as I prioritise and waste not a single minute of the day. Even rest and relaxation will get timetabled. Better to do today what I can, because tomorrow may bring more demands. :-)

50 years and counting

2011-08-16T08:38:00.002+01:00

It's 50 years today since my parents got married. I have mixed feelings.

I am impressed with their commitment and tenacity to staying together in a world where this so rarely happens, despite all their ups and downs. I wish that their life together had been easier, with more laughter and peace, fewer misunderstandings and fewer tears, and so I wish this for however many more years they have together. Laughter, peace, understanding and comfort I wish you both.

I hope that I'm able to make it that long with my love. I'm sad because my Mama's sister was married on the same day as her, not wishing her younger sister to marry before her, but she's no longer here to celebrate her long marriage, having left us for another world over a month ago. I'm amused as I remember my mother telling me that the priest almost married the wrong couples on that day 50 years ago. I'm sad because they married on the anniversary of their own parents wedding and they're also no longer here. I'm wistful as I remember the enormous feasts we used to have as children with my parents, my aunt and her husband, and my grandparents, plus a multitude of siblings and cousins. I remember the tables set outside in our garden in Veli Lošinj, laden with fish, meat, bread, bean salad, potato salad, battered aubergine, tomatoes - all the vegetables locally produced, the meat locally bred and the fish freshly caught. I remember the day being full of the stress of preparation, the sweating in the hot poorly aired kitchen, and finally, the pleasure of eating our fill, lots of laughter and joking, the range of strong and flavoured aperitifs offered by my uncle with the beard, followed by cakes from the harbour, krem pite always being my favourite - layers of pastry lined with thick yellow creamy custard. We would always end the night with the guitars coming out and my Dad handing out his prepared duplicate sheets of words, so we could all sit around and have a sing-song, sometimes using harmonies.

I look back and I remember all the good times as well as the bad and so I smile. Nothing is perfect, but still I wish for a future with more of the good times than the bad for us all.

Special day

2011-08-15T12:09:00.002+01:00

Today merits a mention as it is two years (and happily counting) since my first wonderful roller-blading and BBQ-ing date with my wonderful man. I can honestly say I never knew it could be this easy, this relaxing and this much fun with any single person. A discovery truly worth celebrating. May life continue in this vein.

Response to riots

2011-08-11T19:55:00.001+01:00

I've just read an article written in response to the riots and in response to people's reactions to the riots. It's the most intelligent, thought-provoking and eloquent thing I've yet read. It's also obviously written with passion and a deep compassion.

You can access it here.

Migraine

2011-08-09T15:34:00.002+01:00

Goodness me, I'd forgotten what they're like.

It came on about an hour ago, the first I've had in decades, other than the two triggered by altitude sickness and my bathroom ceiling falling on my head while I was showering. I suppose then I mean the first I've had in decades with no apparent trigger.

I was writing and job hunting all morning and so I hopped in the shower after lunch (my shake-up action to re-energise and re-motivate) and I suddenly realised that I couldn't see very well. A patch of vision was missing. I knew at once what it was. I looked down at my hands and my left hand had disappeared. I stretched up to the shower head, to adjust the angle, so I could wash all the shampoo out of my hair and my arms seemed like Mr Tickle's - long and wiggly. Too long. My sense of perspective was going, as well as my vision. I started to wobble, because only seeing half of your world makes it hard to stand upright, or rather, when your vision is inconsistent, there is no stability, because you have nothing solid to latch on to.

I managed to finish my shower and to dry off, aware of nothing except an increasingly large arc of brightly flashing and shifting colours to my left. I wasn't aware of any sounds or any reality outside of these colours, except the reality of my consciousness observing the unfolding events. I've never observed a migraine in this way and it was absolutely fascinating. I took some ibuprofen and crawled into bed, hiding my head under the duvet and closing my eyes to the light. I watched that arc of colour against my eyelids for some time. It was like someone was holding a blackout sheet over my vision, and with a knife had slashed an arc in the sheet. Through this arc I could see flashes of life, some kind of events being played out as if in another universe, but I couldn't quite see what was happening. It felt very frustrating to have these images just out of my line of vision. I had a sense that if only I could see clearly, I'd be able to see something very important and significant.

Eventually I woke up and realised that I'd been asleep and that the arc had gone. I still feel a little as if I'm looking out of a very dark room into a very bright world and my head is pounding, but the worst is over. I can move and walk and see again.

Healing a broken heart

2011-08-08T09:56:00.003+01:00

PS If you want to get rid of reminders of someone that hurt you, send them here.

The Museum of Broken Relationships

2011-08-08T09:54:00.003+01:00

In the Zagreb upper town, we stumbled across this museum and I loved it. If you're going to Zagreb, I highly recommend it. It was only 20 Kuna, about £2, and gives you free access to another contemporary museum across town (which we didn't have time to visit, but is easily accessible by tram).

The museum provided exhibits and personal stories of people's ended relationships - mainly with boyfriends and girlfriends, husbands and wives, but also religious or political connections. I experienced a multitude of emotions and sensations including heaviness, sadness, loss, hope, desperation and, above all, catharsis. As well as providing a fascinating peek into the minds of others, it also seems to work as a wonderful therapeutic tool that enables broken hearts to heal.

You can find out more here at their website.

The holiday continues

2011-08-08T09:18:00.006+01:00

Although I'm home again, my skin is still tanned, my hairs are still blonder and some of my clothes still smell of my Mama's washing powder and the air of the Island of Losinj. If I close my eyes I am back there.

This year I realised that although the Island still holds magic for me, its magic has lessened. I was disappointed at first to realise this, but the reason why is a good one. I used to escape there in search of peace and relaxation - now my life at home is the most relaxing place to be and so the contrast no longer exists. It's still an exceptionally beautiful place and despite eating more than the usual, including cake, I seem to have lost two kilos somewhere along the way. The land, the air and the sea are good for me and make me healthy. I walk more, climb more, swim more. My body is pushed and challenged, because I have a desire to seek and explore. My curiosity takes me further than my body thinks it can go.

As I contemplated this loss of magic, I started to recognise that the things I do there, I now also do here. I walk more, climb more, exercise more. I then realised that I've not lost any magic, but that I've been lucky enough to have gained more of it - that this magic is now present in my every day life, plus some!

I wish you all magic in your lives. As I've realised for myself, the only thing stopping you having magic and living the dream is your own mind. The secret is to be in the present moment and to hear and see what is really here in the world. The only thing holding you back is you.

I wish...

2011-07-27T11:08:00.003+01:00

...to continue to live my life in the present, appreciating and savouring each moment as it comes upon me
...to live a life with no regrets
...to continue to expand my capacity to love and to be loved

I wish for you to have the same.

My counselling training

2011-07-27T11:04:00.005+01:00

Chaos, noise, discord, darkness
I am stuck in a moment of anxious eternity
Then
Beams of light come from nowhere and break up the darkness
I see, there at my feet, a key
I pick it up, hold it to my heart and I walk away, smiling to myself
I found what I came for

Emergencies?

2011-07-26T11:43:00.005+01:00

Someone gave me this yesterday and I really like it: a reminder about not to get sucked in to other people's dramas. Hope you like it too.

Here today, gone tomorrow

2011-07-23T21:33:00.004+01:00

I haven't written for ages and I think this is because I feel a bit as if I am floating, waiting for the next step. I think it's also because I am writing a lot anyway, my book. This blog is more of an outlet for when I can't write. I'm feeling a bit philosophical too and I tend to get introverted when I am in contemplation.

I've felt philosophical quite a lot of late. Not sure if it's all the change in my life, all the endings. The last day of college is this Monday - still got some things to tie up, but essentially this is it. Three years of training spread over seven years. Seven years ago I was living a totally different life with friends in London, some of whom are no longer in my life, in a houseshare in Hackney with a garden with vegetables, grown by my sister. We were all different people then. At least, I was a different person. Those who are still in my life have also changed as their lives swirl around them in planned and unplanned ways, moulding them as the wind shapes the rocks it blows over. I don't think we could ever have predicted many of those changes...at least, not seven years ago. Those that aren't in my life anymore have also no doubt changed; I just don't know how, because I don't see their changes.

Some people who were in my life then are gone forever, not just gone out of my life; but in an odd way, as I write this, I realise that those who are gone forever from my life, through death, are actually more present to me than those friends who just took different paths to mine. The people I loved who have died are still with me, in my heart and in my intentions. I have no idea who will remain until the end, out of those that are currently in my life. I used to think I could predict that, but I now know that I can't. It's a funny old world.

The sky outside my window is deep pink and smokey grey, almost purple, shot through with vivid bolts of orange. The day is coming to a close. I think it may be almost time for bed. I'll fall asleep in today and wake up again in tomorrow. It's a funny old world.

Ja ne prodajem zjake - mark 2

2011-06-30T17:49:00.001+01:00

A memory of how hilariously funny my aunt was (and my mother still is): Ja ne prodajem zjake - a post from 2010 when I spent a month with them both, going for walks and sitting in cafes, drinking tea and eating cake.

In loving memory of my Teta Tugica.

Love never dies

2011-06-29T22:24:00.006+01:00

I was going to say "I loved her", but it's not past tense. I still love her even though she's gone. A deeply loving, warm, intelligent, hilarious, strong woman. I'm enormously proud to have been born into her family, to have had blood ties with her. Words really can't do any justice to how I feel about her. The only way you would know how I feel is to look into my eyes.

The last time I saw her, I went to accept that she was dying, but I couldn't because she still had life in her. I can still feel her, even though she's gone and so I know that she's not really gone - she's just around the corner, playing in the sunshine.

Happy sad

2011-06-29T15:22:00.000+01:00

It's wonderful and happy-making to get visits from people I love, but I always feel a little bit empty when they're gone, like they've taken a part of me with them. I'd rather focus on the bit of them that they left behind with me, like the chocolate stuck to the sofa or the bits of cheese on the carpet. Those things make me happier, for many, many reasons!

Longing

2011-06-22T12:28:00.001+01:00

I came across this link (Losinj) and I am hit with a deep longing to be there. My heart fills with the beauty and peace, the special energy of this beautiful island. Roll on August!!!

Summer solstice

2011-06-22T09:11:00.000+01:00

Well yesterday was midsummer's day, on which I always feel a tinge of sadness, because I know the days are getting shorter again. My consolation is that they are also hopefully getting warmer.

Here, last night, at 11pm, I was surprised to see so much, to have so much light. This was my first summer solstice outside of London for about 11 years and the beauty was hidden from me there, perhaps the difference masked by the light pollution, or maybe masked by the city's pollution of my emotions. I found the sky last night to be strange and slightly surreal. A shade of blue/green/yellow - a colour I couldn't identify; I only know it was beautiful.

To be able to see so much so late in the evening was lovely. To be able to see so much is lovely.

Being creative

2011-06-18T19:50:00.000+01:00

I thought I'd relax by making fairy cakes (dairy free, but sadly not gluten free). Being creative. Thank you to my very lucky man for his excellent stirring technique.

Toronto and the old man

2011-06-17T08:53:00.001+01:00

I had a dream last night that had a very clear and real quality to it. I dreamed I was playing in the park, on the slides and swings, but still as an adult. An old man was watching me. He was tall, slightly balding, with a beard and maybe a moustache, but trimmed so short it seemed more like face art than hair. All his hair was a very clean and consistent grey. His face was long and wrinkled and his eyes sparkled as if connected to some source of inner light.

He took a shine to me, this old man did, and we ended up chatting. He took me to his home and made me some tea and we talked and talked. His home was a mish-mash of random pieces of old furniture, falling apart, disordered and chaotic - like his mind, some valuable gems hidden among the old rickety mess that was all I saw at first glance. He told me he'd been very influential in his life, a film director or some such thing and that he'd loved it. He'd been lucky to do something he loved and to be good at it, he knew this. He showed me old photos of the life he had had. Eventually I decided I needed to leave, so I could find my brother.

As his parting words, he told me that whatever I want to do in life, I can. Whatever I choose to do, I will do. He said that if I'm struggling (and here I thought he was going to offer me help), that I must have faith in myself and know that everything I need, I already have. I just have to keep trying and all will become clear. I have to trust myself.

He suggested I get a cab to my brother's as it would only take 20 minutes. We hugged and I said goodbye, thinking that I would see him or speak to him soon, but as I left and he left I remembered I'd not taken his email address.

On my way to find a cab, the quality of the dream changed to something more dream-like, less controlled, more volatile and unpredictable, slightly anxious. It ended with me jumping into a horse and cart to go to my brother's house in Toronto (paucity of cabs, it would seem). I awoke, very disappointed I'd not seen my brother, until I remembered the man and his words. Big brother in Toronto will have to wait a little longer, I guess. I miss him.

Storms in Norway...

2011-06-14T21:42:00.000+01:00

Middle big brother and Godfather Number Two, your storm shelter has arrived. Might be of more use in Norway than here, right now. Please see to follow a photograph of the item as demonstrated by our good selves. :-)

PS It doubles up as a very good den.

Truth and honesty

2011-06-14T09:37:00.003+01:00

She writes beautifully. Something she wrote, that I read today, shot an arrow into my heart. She has captured exactly the words I wish I could have said to so many people in my past and I wish I would be able to say to people in my future. Dishonesty causes me much pain, whether it is intentional or not. You feel the truth, even if the other doesn't know the truth themselves.

You can link to 'Message unspoken' here.

Assessment

2011-06-07T14:23:00.000+01:00

Well, my assessment weekend is approaching. I've just written my self-assessment and my peers' assessments and it took me ages, but at least it's done. After this weekend, all that is left in terms of assessment is a case study (which I am sure will cause me some anxiety come autumn when I have to write it) and my supervision report (which I hope will be fine).

Time's a funny thing. It's almost like I see time with two perspectives concurrently - it seems to go so quickly, gone in the blink of an eye, and at the same time, especially if I focus on appreciating each moment, it seems eternal. As I write this I feel a bit foolish, because that was a bit obvious. Each moment does go with the blink of an eye and time is eternal...as far as I know. Maybe the word 'time' just covers too many meanings.

Regardless, it seems like it was yesterday when I started this training (over seven years ago) and at the same time it feels like a lifetime ago. I've learned so much about myself (and others) and the quality of my life and relationships has deepened. I know me more. I know people more. It makes me insanely happy. I'm glad I spent over £10K on training, because it will last me a lifetime. I can honestly say it was money well spent, even if I never earn a penny of it back. I can also very honestly say that I'm glad it's almost over!!

Retrieving my soul

2011-06-05T19:05:00.003+01:00

My day felt thoroughly non useful, until I bought a trowel and retrieved soil from the garage. I planted a beautiful flower thing that I was given (along with all the other women) at the wedding of a good friend of mine. That's the one on the right. The lavender I bought today (on the left). I feel as if I have achieved something today. It has become useful. I have become useful.

As an aside, as I wrote 'retrieved soil from the garage', I accidentally first wrote a typo - soul, instead of soil. Perhaps I need to retrieve my soul today too, as I've been feeling a bit soul-less. Having said that, I feel as if I've started retrieving my soul already through planting and being near the earth.

Moving closer to the goal

2011-06-02T16:25:00.000+01:00

I've just had it confirmed that I can take on two more clients and I'm very excited!! It brings me slightly closer to my goal of qualifying by end of February, but I just hope that all my clients are adults, otherwise I may be forced to practice patience for another year before I qualify.

I do believe in the power of hoping for the best possible outcome and also in life giving you the lessons you most need to learn. It's up to me how I take the opportunities and whether I grow through them or allow them to stunt my growth.

It means less time for paid work (with college commitments on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays now), but at least it moves me closer to one goal, even though it may feel like it's taking me further from another. Why does it feel as if house buying and qualifying are somehow mutually exclusive...? I guess I need to go back to practicing patience and trusting that the best outcome is on its way to being achieved.

A week ago

2011-05-28T11:12:00.000+01:00

Well, a whole week has gone by since I last blogged and I wonder what I did with that week. It feels like not much, except sleeping an awful lot, but when I stop and think, I have achieved things.

I finished the first edit of my book (having completed it a few weeks ago), and know that there is one section that needs a redraft. I feel it coming to a close and I'm not sure how I feel about that. I thought it would feel great, but actually I feel I'm going to have to say goodbye to a friend and leave her world, which makes me rather sad. Most unexpected.

I've got the go-ahead to take on more clients, which is fabulous and means I will (fingers crossed) be able to submit my case study in autumn and hopefully graduate in February, but we shall see. Who knows what the future holds? I know I certainly don't and for some reason my future is feeling vaguer than usual. Not necessarily a bad thing, but definitely a curious thing.

There are a gazillion things I want to do today, but more than them, I just want to sleep. Maybe I'll go and have a mid morning snooze before getting outside and into town, to meet my friend...

Amusement

2011-05-21T13:16:00.000+01:00

Made me chuckle and I wanted to make you chuckle too. :-)

(Apparently it's by Gathered Images)

Immortality

2011-05-17T15:28:00.001+01:00

My intention in going to see her was to accept that she was dying and to say goodbye, but I find that I can't.

She wants to keep living and where there's life, or a desire for life, there's hope. First there's that, this indestructible hope of mine. I've always been this way and I don't think anything will change that. Where love is involved I hold fast until I'm certain that there's no way back.

Secondly, her inner strength gave me greater strength. She's a teacher through and through, by trade and by nature. I saw her ability to laugh through pain, to chuckle as if we were sitting in a cafe watching the world go by, commenting that she needs to watch her waistline and this is why she only ate three strawberries in one day. We joked about the benefits to a lady's complexion of lying in bed for days and weeks on end, how it irons out all the wrinkles and turns back the hands of time.

I saw her transform in front of my eyes from a sick old lady, to a young giggling girl, whose eyes sparkled with life and whose wicked sense of humour made us all laugh. All this through receiving love and knowing she's loved. Although I haven't achieved what I set out to achieve, I've been given something worth so much more. We're all going to die one day and we have no idea when that day will come, regardless of how sick or not we might be. The only thing we can do is to accept that our days are numbered and to fill them with as much love as we can.

I have felt, a number of times over the last day and a half, seeing her transformed for flickering moments and even for minutes at a time, that I've discovered the secret to immortality and it's absurdly simple: love.

I don't know what will happen in the next few days or even tomorrow, but yesterday she said to me, "I will survive. I have decided." Then she paused and said, "At least tonight, anyway." I went in this morning, early, to kiss her goodbye and I left saying I would see her soon, because I have a very strange sense of knowing that I will. I don't have any answers, but I feel as if I know something very precious that I didn't know before, so all I can say for sure is that everything's always okay in the end; and if it's not okay, then it's not the end.

Too lazy to click on links

2011-05-12T07:57:00.000+01:00

I came across a fascinating article (courtesy of a good friend in Hong Kong) about the internet and how it will start to be used not for information seeking or publicising, but for networking, connecting, building relationships and knowing where the rest of the 'pack' is, isolation of entertainment being something new to the last century and interaction being our natural state for entertainment activity. It was written in 1999.

There's a lovely little definition of 'technology' as something that doesn't quite work yet. For example, chairs are no longer seen as technology, because they now work very well - they have the right number of legs, centres of gravity etc, so that they no longer 'crash' when we use them. Once things work, they become part of the background and are no longer technology. Very good point, I thought.

The article is called How to stop worrying and learn to love the internet. I need this lesson, I know I do, but I also know that some of you don't like links. I strongly suggest you change this habit and start clicking. The future is in the internet.

How meaning deepens with age...

2011-05-11T20:38:00.000+01:00

....or perhaps how meaning deepens with experience rather than age.

At the prompting of my brother I've been listening to some Beautiful South songs. The last time I listened to them (in my early 20s) I loved them and sang along, but they didn't have the depth of meaning to me then, they didn't create the same depth of emotion within me then, as they do now. It's true, the depth of life carved into you, creates a deeper well of sorrow, joy and perhaps all other emotions too that you can draw from and use to relate to others. Two songs especially struck at the chords of my heart sharply and sweetly.

Prettiest eyes
I'll sail this ship alone

Thought I'd share. :-)

Dying to play in the sunshine

2011-05-08T07:47:00.001+01:00

I keep dreaming about my aunt who is very sick. Last night I dreamed about her again, she was in almost every dream, but the one I remembered fully was her coming to see me and she said to me

"death is like taking off your coat so you can go and play in the sunshine"

and when I woke up I thought that conception is the moment your parents start to knit your coat so you can play in the rain and the snow and the cold, and death is when you take it off again so you can play in the sunshine.

Goat adoption

2011-05-06T07:53:00.000+01:00

Presumably because I tweeted that I wanted a Nigerian dwarf goat, Adopt a Goat is now following me. They do multiple tweets and they clearly don't proof their tweets, having tweeted around 10 times 'adopy a goat'. That irritates me mildly. I shan't be following them. Plus which, they seem to be based in Australia and I'm not sure I'd condone shipping a goat that far...though it may buy me some time to purchase a house with garden...

Our right to choose - herbal medicine

2011-05-04T22:56:00.001+01:00

This is being posted on behalf of my sister. Please click on the link and sign the petition.

-

Dear friend and supporter of natural medicine,

Thanks to your action, we have already gathered no less than 1,284,269 signatures to our petition against the new European THMPD (Traditionnal Herbal Medicinal Product Directive), and in support of the legislative action being undertaken by the Alliance for Natural Health. This is a success of historical significance.

Sunday, the 1^st of May 2011, at 12 o'clock GMT, we had:

954,145 signatures to our petition in French;
233,113 to our petition in English;
97,011 to our petition in German.

Furthermore, the powerful citizen network action group Avaaz, just launched a huge effort similar to ours, calling the European Commission and EU Governments « to amend the THMPD Directive, suspending the draconian measures against herbal medicines and removing all barriers to traditional remedies with a long history of use inside and outside Europe. »

« We have a right to choose among all remedies and medicines that can keep ourselves and our families healthy », say Avaaz members, echoing our call to the European Authorities. Avaaz has already gathered 469,000 signatures, making it a very significant participant to the movement against the THMPD.

There is no doubt that the size and strength of the movement we have created is going to force the European Union to back down on its outrageous attempt to limit our rights and freedom to choose natural medicine and remedies.

Augustin de Livois and our team in Brussels and Paris are presently taking steps to meet representatives and decision-makers. We will soon be able to announce what kind of concrete changes we managed to reach. In the meantime, you can keep asking your friends to connect on www.savenaturalhealth.eu to get more signatures.

Thank you very much for your support.

To your good health,

The League for Natural Medicine

Dwarf goats

2011-05-04T21:46:00.000+01:00

Nigerian dwarf goats should ideally be 17-19 inches high (though what you do if they grow a bit taller or are stunted, I'm not sure). They're very friendly and make ideal pets and great 'visitor' animals in nursing homes and hospitals. I want one. They have blue eyes too, so it might be just like looking in a mirror. Or maybe when I'm old and have a beard.

I'd have to get a girl one maybe, because apparently the boy ones smell bad, unless they've had certain smelly parts of their anatomy removed. Of course.

I am reminded of my last visit to Kentish Town City Farm, where a very friendly and affectionate male goat rubbed his head against my coat. As I left, I could still smell the pungent scent of strong goat's cheese that he'd exuded, and it didn't take me long to figure out the source. Me. I smelled of goat's cheese. I think I'd been dating my boyfriend only two months or so by that point, but thankfully he was hugely amused and (apparently) not put off...once I'd taken all my clothes off and put them into the washing machine, that is!

I don't want a boy Nigerian dwarf goat.

Obama sin Laden

2011-05-04T16:51:00.002+01:00

Is the name that comes to mind when I think about it all, and technically it's true.

We know who I'm talking about

2011-05-03T15:15:00.001+01:00

I've been seeing so many updates and tweets rejoicing in his death and I get it, I really do, but for some reason it's been making me feel very uncomfortable. Not just the updates, but mentioning his name and the whole affair from start to finish makes me feel a very high level of discomfort. It wasn't until I saw a quote that a friend had posted, that I suddenly understood my discomfort. I fully resonate with these words and so wanted to share them with you. Hate and revenge never bring peace.

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

Please note that this quote has been widely circulated in recent days, though the original author is uncertain.

Sources of light/our north facing home

2011-04-26T19:43:00.001+01:00

I've never lived in a north facing home before and I do now realise absolutely why not. It depresses me to have no rays of sunlight in my home, though of course I have sunshine in my heart. How could I not, with such a wonderful housemate? :-)

However I do need real sunshine too. I have, as the air has been warming, been known to lie on the floor of the living room with the front door open and my head on the threshold, getting rays of afternoon sun on my face, for the half hour it comes through that portal. I've now discovered another source! If I sit in the far right of the sofa, almost with my nose up against the wall, the setting sun shines his pink and slightly feeble rays on my face. You have no idea what joy this brings to me for these 20 minutes! :-)