Saturday 25 August 2018

On picking up other people's beer cans

Part one

new old garden chair in the early morning 
I had my tea in the garden recently next to a sunbathing blackbird.  I had intended to write some notes about the day ahead, but couldn't find any pens or paper and so had to sit with nothing to do but drink my tea.  The sun had come only half way across the garden, the air was clear and the seagulls making a great deal of noise from the rooftops.  At first, I thought the blackbird was in trouble.  It sat, fat and black, with its little yellow beak open, on the flower bed in between the lavender and the peonies.  With the lack of rain, the soil was dry and dusty, and it seemed to have found a little dip in which to settle itself, wriggling its bottom in the dust to get comfortable.  And there it sat.  After about ten minutes, I wondered if it was ill, and possibly dying, and as a soul midwife, I briefly thought about the right protocol for a blackbird.  Its beady little eye didn't look dull though, it had a self possessed air about it, and I thought - that bird is sunbathing.  There is a robin that lives nearby too, hopping about madly to show the blackbird up for being ridiculous, as if sunbathing on a dusty flower bed was simply attention seeking.  At some point, the blackbird must have flown away, when I looked a good half hour later, it had gone. 

Later, in the afternoon, I returned to the garden for more tea.  I sat on one of three old wooden garden chairs that my lodger had found in a skip and brought back for me to sort out.  This, I thought, is the life.  Here I am, relaxing under a tree, my feet up on another garden chair, with a tray of tea, some chocolate and a little pot of crunchy peanut butter to be eaten with a spoon.  And yes, it is true, it is the life, and also, it is like this often, but not all the time.

Part two

The good thing about getting older is that time becomes less of a surprise and more of an old friend.  I am aware of it now, in a way that I wouldn't have been when I was younger.  It sometimes alarms me, the way that it just disappears.  I am not surprised any more though by its passing, despite sometimes not feeling ready for it to move quite so relentlessly. I know it is doing its own thing and whatever I am waiting for, anticipating, looking forward to or dreading, the moment will come when it simply happens, and then I will look back on something that I was waiting for, that is now like all the other things in my life, in the past.  I have more time to spend on time now, and more curiosity about the relationship I am having with it.  It no longer needs to be juggled, it no longer needs to be caught and held on to, it no longer dominates my day by not being enough.  The busyness that filled my days not so long ago when I had children at home, lodgers to deal with and work to do - that busyness has gone and now with the children grown and moved away (except for Giant Boy who will only move out one day when his new wife drags him out by his earlobes).  The lodgers have all gone, and the house is mine again, and if I want to, I can spend the day deciding where to sit and drink tea next.  I can even sunbathe in the dust in the flower bed if I like.

Time, my new friend, has introduced me to another friend that has been waiting to be seen for a long time now, silence.  Time has suggested that if I am changing my experience of itself, that I might want to meet silence, which like time, has been here all along.  And so, I have been introduced to silence, and we are getting along very well, neither of us so afraid of the other as we have been in the past.

A divine you unbothered by the whirling in your head

Something that silence has shown me is that there is no need to distract myself, that sitting with it and hearing the noise in my head, the noise around me, feeling the moments pass by like the smallest of breezes, as they do, will not harm me.  It is possible that all the noises, all the thoughts, all the fears, are not my enemies and when I step out of the way, off they go into the ether without the need for me to follow them.  Inside us all is a strong and timeless soul.  It is this that we catch a glimpse of when we work with silence and lose our fear of it.  All the chatter, all the nonsense that crowds in on us, is not part of our gentle, powerful inner light despite us believing that it is.  We might think that the madness in our minds is all we are, but behind it, much deeper and more wonderful, is a you that is divine and powerful and utterly unbothered by all the whirling around in your head.

Part three

I say these things as if I have a charmed life sunbathing in the garden with the wildlife, drinking tea all day and getting to know the cosmos.  Without any judgement and without any regret, my life has been very hard.  It has also been filled with grace and wonder.  These things are still with me, the difficulties and the grace and the wonder, I am not drifting into old age with my hands folded gently in my lap, a saintly smile on my lips and angels dancing on my head.  I am drifting into older age, inexorably, things are changing, but I am the same person I have always been.  It is as this person, this same person I have always been, that I am finding that time is an old friend and that silence is not my enemy.  It is as this same person that I am catching a glimpse, every now and then, of the power inside, somewhere beyond my physical body yet part of my physical body, this spark of the divine, this strong and timeless soul that is part of us all and that is wonderful beyond imagining.

My grand dumplings and me, full of grace
and wonder 
Memory of my late husband - all the last texts he sent,
 the hardness of life

Part four

Some mornings ago I fell into a waking sleep and had a dream.  I was walking in a park when I saw an empty beer can on the ground.  I must pick that up and throw it away, I thought.  As I picked it up, from nowhere, hundreds of empty beer cans came flooding around me and I realised that I must not pick up other people's empty beer cans.  In feeling the need to pick up one empty beer can, I am vulnerable to everyone else's empty beer cans, and I will be swamped. I have taken the message of this very seriously.

So now, I can sit in the garden and have tea with the blackbirds and robins, and I can watch time go by with my new friend silence.  I can deepen my curious and challenging and comforting relationship with this thing called time, and I can give myself permission to do all this with the full knowledge that what is hard in my life has not changed, and what is wonderful has not changed either.  This is made much more possible because I have more time for time, more space for silence because I see that do not need to pick up anyone else's beer cans any more. 

Time is passing, feeling the moments one by one pass me by like so many small breezes, and feeling no fear

Sunday 24 June 2018

Wounded Healers


Let's start by acknowledging just how human we all are.  Generally, we do the best we can.  Even if I don't like or agree with what you do, I imagine you are doing it in a way that suits you.  Whatever happens, we do what we do because 1.  We choose to and 2.  We think it's right to do it.

All of us make choices and all of us live as a consequence of what we choose to do or think or be.  Yes - and some are more aware than others.  Awareness aside, we still make our choices according to what is best for us, even if that is to collude with difficult situations so that we don't suffer.  We do dreadful things because at that moment it seems the right thing to do. 

Culture, tradition, experience, society all form us.  There are so many factors that influence our choices and who we are.  I could get away with showing my face in some places, and not in others.  I could make the decision not to have that thirteenth packet of crisps because my experience has shown me it doesn't work for me, and finally I am acting on it.  I may defer unquestionably to authority in some places, in others I may decide to be a rebel.  We are all different, we are all unique and we respond to the events in our lives in our own unique way.

And Yet ....

We are the same.  In so many ways, we are the same.  We want to be happy, loved, safe, satisfied.  We like to be in families, in communities, to be seen, listened to, supported and to belong.  We like, in so many words, to find our tribe and belong to it.  Most of us love our children, most of us love our parents, all of us bleed when cut and all of us experience loss, sadness, rejection and distress.  And illness.  And not many of us like to be threatened, attacked or ignored.

In all societies there are healers, doctors, helpers, care givers.  I mean the professionals who have made a decision to be of service, who feel they have a gift, a qualification, experiences, offering support, insight and kindness to their communities.  These people all want to make us feel better.  That is their choice.  And when it works, it is magnificent.  A relief.  When it doesn't work, it can be a worry but we keep going till we find someone who can help.  It isn't fun to experience a healer who makes us feel worse, though a good healer should be aware of their boundaries and the limits of their capabilities.  But of course, being human, it's really trial and error in finding a good healer, and a good healer is someone we are comfortable with, believe in and are happy with.  We understand we may have to try a few before coming to one we like.

The Nub of the Matter

Here's the thing.  If we are practising healing, how do we stop our own stuff from getting in the way?  Generally we won't notice if our healer's unresolved thing is uppermost in our session.  As long as we feel better and enjoy the session, we won't notice. Healers are also only human, and I think it is impossible to be utterly and totally objective (our humanness means we are not robots, what with our free will and feelings and getting things wrong as well as right and so on).  The healer's issues are bound to influence them to some degree, poor loves, but only a tiny bit and the idea is that it does not get in the way of our stuff. 

But, what if we feel our healer gets it wrong?  What do we do then, and what are we to think?  What if the healer's Stuff really is in the way and we notice it and they don't? It's tough one.  We get off the treatment table, pay them and think, I feel worse.  And the healer probably thinks, Whoa! Magic!  I feel better!

It isn't easy for us to pay the healer and then say, that was a load of old cobblers.

Magic?  Where?  Cobblers more like

Experiences of the Nub.

Here are two experiences of Healer's Stuff that I recently experienced.  The first I will call misguided, the second I will call careless.

Misguided.  Healer One.  This healer was a chance meeting.  We met socially at a function, with other healers and interested parties. I asked the usual questions (how are you, what do you do) and listened as Healer One told me at length what they did, and though it was interesting, I did not completely follow it.  At some point, I realised Healer One was actually doing some healing.  For some reason, I didn't feel quite in control, and allowed Healer One to continue, though I was less comfortable as the experience unfolded.  It seemed to get stranger and stranger, much of what Healer One said was insightful and possibly very helpful, but it didn't feel right.  This session went on for a long time, I did not feel good, and by the end I had lost the will to live.  Healer One was totally in control and convinced that I was receiving a much needed gift.  I noticed too that most people had respectfully left us alone, possibly delighted to see that so much goodness was being delivered.  Healer One left me with some notes on the session to help me, and moved on to chat to others.  I was left clutching the notes, wanting to die, and possibly take Healer One with me.

Healer One made some fundamental mistakes.  First, I was not consulted.  I did not give my permission.  Second, when I did comment I was not listened to and made to feel disrespectful.  Third, Healer One paid no attention to me or my body language (which was probably classic WTF).

Healer One left me far from healed. I was angry, violated, bored (I think it may have been interesting in parts but it was so not about me in any way) and sapped.  I was also confused. How on earth could this have happened and how, if I am so clever, did I let it continue?  What was all that about?

I think Healer One, who makes a living as a healer, had an ego problem.  I do healing, and soul midwifery, and art and writing and workshops and I suspect they knew a little bit about that.  It felt like Healer One went on a bit of an ego competition rampage.  On the surface, Healer One probably thought I was lucky to have received such intense and personal attention, what a gift.  Subconsciously Healer One probably thrust a fist in the air and exclaimed Gotcha!  I won!  Eat dirt, looser!

Yes, I burned all the notes when I got home.  It was a properly angry reaction and made me feel as if I had had a little ego moment too.

I did NOT give my permission, goddamit

Careless.  Healer Two.  This was a session I booked, having heard of a very nice healer in my area.  I was going to love her, I was told.  I looked forward to it, ready to adore her if necessary.

Healer Two was good at her job.  The room was lovely with scented candles and lots of reassuring artwork on the walls.  From the moment I arrived, Healer Two told me about herself.  I learned a lot about what she thought, a lot about what she did, and a lot about who said nice things about her.  The work she did on me was not what I asked for, but I didn't mind.  Healer Two said she was drawn to do this, and that, and whatever, before doing a bit of what I had actually booked her for.  It was very nice though, she was good at her work.  As the session went on, she gave me feedback, and told me what she was picking up about me.  It was twaddle.  I thought, you have not yet asked me a single question about myself, you have no idea what I am feeling, thinking or even what I do, you have no idea why I am here or what for.  What are you talking about?

I need to be kind to myself, I am suffering grief, I need to do what my heart wants. Most of us are in this position, the man at the petrol station could have told me that.  What I think happened with Healer Two is that she had become complacent, self satisfied and made assumptions. It was the assumptions that made me cross.  She know a bit about me before I arrived, and the assumptions were based on what she had picked up from my friend.  The assumptions were wrong, and though the massage was good, I lost interest in her very quickly.  It felt she had no interest in me, so I just lay back and felt aggrieved. 

I'm going to lie back and feel agrieved

Wounded Healers

We are all wounded.  If we train as healers, these wounds and experiences can give us insight, compassion, wisdom.  We will meet other wounded people who come to us to find some relief, some quiet, some help.  It is part of our role to get a grip on ourselves.  We can only heal if we have permission.  We must be careful of making assumptions.  In our healing sessions, it is not about us, it is about our client.  We must be respectful, we mustn't strive for brownie points and we must notice if our client looks annoyed or has lost the will to live.  I don't think we must be too detached either, that is just as bad as being too familiar.  There is a loving respectful balance - giving a little of ourselves in order to benefit our client is good.

A big part of healing is the ability to listen.  Listen well, with your whole attention, and let the client be heard.  Perhaps all of us who do healing do it in character.  We heal as ourselves, in character as ourselves which makes me think that work on ourselves must be ongoing.  To know ourselves, warts and all, to know our foibles, failings, as well as being aware of our good points (kindness, empathy, compassion, honesty, interest in the client etc) is a the only way we can be effective. 

Healers who work on their own wounds, who look to their own healing so that they can offer whatever it is they offer well, have my admiration and respect.  They are healers that are working on their wounds.  Better than being the wounded working on their healing. Grrrr.


Friday 18 May 2018

Antonia Rolls is at home.

The background

Antonia Rolls is at home.

In fact, she's in bed.

I had a lovely bath at about eleven this morning, painted my toenails pink, got dressed and got back into bed.  I am in bed now, writing this; beside me is my lunch and outside my window is the neighbour's garden looking splendid in the sunshine.  I have an appointment at four today and can't go in my pyjamas, so getting dressed and back into bed seemed a good plan, I am in bed working like a good person, but I am dressed ready to go when I need to and I have lunch on a tray to sustain me. 

Working from home today

The idea of home, home coming, home sickness and being home is something I am working on at the moment.  It has taken a long time to understand how lost I have felt and to articulate it.  I had spent eight years spending time alongside people at the end of life as a soul midwife, but nothing prepared me for the losses, one after the other, of my mother, brother and husband in 2015 and 2016.  I took a year off in 2017 to hide, rest and recover.  That time off was as hard as any other time - we do not simply sit down and become rested and recovered within half an hour.  Sitting down, taking time off and away, knowing that we are struggling with life is a courageous move as we know that once we stop moving and being distracted, all those little demons in our heads come out to play.  It takes focus to recover.  We come to terms with such feelings as loss, regret, guilt, anger, resentment.  There is love and light and laughter too, but when we are struggling and when we are suffering, love light and laughter belong in another universe.  Taking time off to recover takes a long, long time.  We face a lot of things, we understand a lot of things and when we feel stronger, we are glad that we did it.  But we don't want to do it again if we can help it, not for a while at least.

Work progresses.  

I felt that during my year off that I was struggling to come home.  To come back to myself, to find myself again in all this disruption.  I imagined myself wandering off on my own, into some kind of shadow lands, and losing myself.  The first thing to do was to recognise that I had left.  I had left myself.  I had left home. It was lonely out there, and I didn't belong.

Having recognised that I had left home, left myself, I made a decision to return.  In effect, I stopped walking, turned round and saw that not only had I come a long way off track, but that there was a way back and that I could take it.  I made a decision to come home, back to myself.

And now, coming back to myself, coming home, I needed to know who I was coming home to.  Who was I?  The business of finding myself again, coming back to myself and being grounded in myself felt like being home.  I was understanding what it was to be home, in myself. This was a place from where I could stand in my own space, be grounded, feel strong.

Life does not stand still.  In my work as a soul midwife over the last ten years, I know that we have to make some adjustments at some point to accept that our lives will end.  It is hard to do, but it is better to accept it than to live in fear and hope death goes away.  It is a preparation to go home, to face our dying, to accept the final journey.

The workshops

Everything that I have been thinking and experiencing while hiding away to recover, has come together to form the Coming Home workshops.  The points I made above are the basis of the workshops.

  • Recognising you have left home, left yourself.  Loss of faith.
  • Deciding to come home, back to yourself.  Seeking faith.
  • Understanding being home, being centred in yourself.  Finding faith
  • Preparation to go home, preparing for the final journey at the end of life.  Using faith.

For the purpose of this workshop, faith is faith in yourself.  

The subject of who we are and how we live our lives is constantly changing, constantly in motion.  My life is endlessly moving back and forth, to and fro, and since I have begun holding these Coming Home workshops, I have learned how many ways there are to leave home, leave yourself and to come home, come back to yourself.

I have a limit of eight people per workshop.  The energy of a smaller group is supportive and kind, and there is much sharing as we spend the morning going through the four points above.  Sometimes there are tears, sometimes laughter and always there is respect and support.  We are all homesick for ourselves in different ways.  The afternoons are spent creatively making Life Boards, which reflect back to you with uncanny accuracy, how you are feeling and who you say you are right now.  By the end of the day long Coming Home workshop, some alchemy has changed many of our hearts and minds, and we know that we are going to be fine.  

One of the workshops in afternoon sunshine

The next workshops are -

Saturday 26 May at the Cornerstone Community Centre, Church Road HOVE.  Starts at 10.15am and finishes at 4pm  

Sunday 3 June at the New Park Community Centre, New Park Road, CHICHESTER.  Starts at 9.30am and finishes at 4pm

Workshops are £50 per person.  A £25 deposit will secure your place.  Only eight places available per workshop. 

There is more information on my website at  There will be more workshops coming up and I will post them on the website.

Would you like to come?  To book your place email or you can call me on 07787754123.

Coming Home, join us and gently take back your power.

And finally, a bit of feedback 

"Having been to one of Antonia's Coming Home workshops, I can sincerely recommend it. Antonia has such a caring, gentle way about her and offers some very insightful ways of looking at things that really make you think. I had a really lovely and helpful day. Thank you Antonia."


"Antonia has a knack of making you feel special. The room we met in was draped (some literally) in her personal touches which transform a space. I personally enjoyed the day and it gave me room to think about where perhaps I want to move towards and what's important to me. I particularly liked a visualisation & getting sticky with collage and colour - the result sits next to my bed as a reminder of the Essence of Me (Don't stray too far from it Deb!). This time for me was a prodding, but, it was also a chance to see some other participants have a 'Life Change' moment, which was quite special. Thanks for the chance to have some gentle reflection & guidance, in a busy world."


Tuesday 17 April 2018

I haven't finished dancing with you yet

There comes a time when we slightly older folk question the point of things.  What, we say, is it all for?  We have come this far, and however we got here, we notice that we are exactly that, here.  Once we saw life as a long, long road, winding away in front of us.  Now, we take a look at this road and see that it stretches a long, long way behind us.  The path is finite.  We knew that of course, everyone does, but we didn't feel it.

Here in Bognor Regis, I think I am still at the beginning of things.  I think, Oh - some day I will do this thing, or that thing, there is plenty of time, but first I need to work out who I am.  And before I do that, I must have a peanut butter sandwich, clean the kitchen, read a book or write some very important lists.  I have plans, I have ambitions, and I think that if only Woman's Hour knew I was here, they'd love me. But I am not going to do anything about it, because that is something for later.  Right now, I need to work out who I am and what I want, and before I do that, I must make another sandwich and have a long sit down on a comfy sofa. 

My home is lovely.  For a long time it held my children, then it held lodgers, and now, it holds me, my youngest son and a lodger in the annex.  I can go days without meeting anyone in the house.  There is space and there is silence.  I have it decorated and sorted to suit myself, I have arranged it so that everywhere I look there is something to delight me.  The garden is slightly mad but full of green and colour, it feels like it's mine.  The studio is full of paints, full of bits and pieces and has the A Graceful Death exhibition stacked against one of the walls.  I hoovered it so it is clean too.  Here I am then, if I chose it, I can lie around all day peeling grapes and shopping online.  I can, at this later stage of my life, do anything I want.  I can opt in, or I can opt out.

 But that is when I take a look, and see that I have paused on the long winding road that was once stretching into the distance.  I put down my bags and notice that it is longer behind me than ahead.  I think, But I am still at the beginning of things!  What, then, is it all for?

What is it all for?

There may be a different answer each time I ask this of myself.  Mostly, it is all about me - how do I feel better, how do I know what I want to do, how do I do it, and do I have to do it now?  Or can I have a long hot bubble bath and paint my toenails red first. 

And then, I am quite capable of saying Yes!  I know what to do, I'll do it now, it is all clear to me and off I go, helter skelter, into a project and into life, doing great stuff and getting things done.  But that always comes to a natural end.  Recently, in the quiet times after a busy period, I am taking a look at this road I am on, that is not as long before me as behind me now, and I ask, What is it all for?  What has it all been for?  I begin to question the effectiveness of things, and I wonder, has it really been any good?

The gift

I dreamt that I was sitting next to someone in a hallway.  I know who you are, I said, and I touched his sleeve.  Ten years ago, my partner Steve died and for a while, until I met Alan who I married after eight years of thinking about it, just before he too died in 2016, the light went out of my life.  In my dream, I was sitting next to Steve, he looked different but I knew it was him.  I am going to a dance on Friday, he said.  I wanted to go with him, and asked if I could come. Someone was standing behind me in this hallway as I spoke to Steve, the presence was strong and comforting, and without looking around I knew it was Alan.  Oh I wanted so much to go to this dance with them both - Let me come with you! I said, to Steve and Alan, I haven't finished dancing with you yet. 

The gift on my waking, is that life goes on.  If I could for a moment go to that dance with Alan and Steve, and dance with them both one more time, I would have been so happy.  But it is life I have not finished dancing with yet.  Alan and Steve are dancing somewhere else to a different tune, and I have the gift of this life here. Whatever I think it is or is not for, it is up to me to keep on dancing.  It is up to me, with my peanut butter sandwiches, my red toenails, my long hot bubble baths and my surprise that Woman's Hour haven't asked to broadcast from my studio yet, up to me to just keep on dancing.  Down that road, with the past behind me and the future ahead, whatever dance comes to mind, just keep on going, tapping with my toes and clapping with my hands, jumping to the rhythm in my heart.

What it is all for

What is it all for?  It is for life! For living!  Even the dark moments are life!  Life goes up and down, in waves of happy and sad, in waves of being busy and not being busy, in rushing and being still, it doesn't matter, it is all life.  So when we put our bags down on our path through this world, and gaze behind ourselves with alarm, and look nervously ahead - kick up your heels - pick up those heavy bags, feel the beat and boogie on. There is a dance going down on Friday!

Sunday 25 March 2018

Notes on Loving Yourself

From now on, I aim to write more frequent and shorter blogs.  

It is part of stepping into my magnificence.  Below is a link to the first blog introducing this idea of stepping into my magnificence - 

And here is the last blog with a magnificence progress report -

I cannot do magnificence if I don't let it out, and you all, who read this, are stepping into your magnificences too.  It is harder to be magnificent alone, in splendid isolation.  We need each other, and part of the magnificence that we embrace is the courage to do and be it outside of our sitting rooms.  To tell ourselves and each other that that is what we are doing.  

As an emerging magnificent, here are some examples of the ways in which we may find ourselves greeting each other.

"Good morning!  I haven't seen you for a while!  How are you?  What are you doing these days?"

  • Answer 1 - "Morning.  I've been, you know, hiding.  I've had a cold, and, well, not been doing much.  Put on loads of weight but have just bought shares in Cadbury's.  Ha ha just got a crate of cream eggs as a thank you. Work's tough, kids are always complaining, though I don't know why, they've all got new iphones.  Doing OK, you know, just getting through." 

  • Answer 2 - "Oh hello!  Yes, I have been soooo busy, too busy, gosh, feet not touched the ground!  Can't imagine how I even got myself dressed this morning, meetings, projects, oh just a whirl of activity!  Ha ha ha, can you imagine, I haven't seen the children for a fortnight, and my boss wants me to go to Timbuktu AND I have to give four different conferences just this afternoon on four different topics! In America!  Must go!" 

  • Answer 3 - "Nice to see you again!  How are you?  I am stepping into my magnificence, it's an ongoing thing and so far, today, I have been quite magnificent.  You look great, what's going on in your life?"  

Which of the above, as an emerging magnificent, is you?  It takes concentration, and dedication, to remember what you are doing.  It is easy to fall into our usual patterns of  defence, denial and discouragement, our first encounter of the day may challenge us to feel inadequate, scruffy, ugly and awkward.  It may not, but if it does, this is the first test of channelling our magnificence.

Briefly, what is our magnificence?

Our magnificence, your magnificence, is the decision to love yourself.  Listen to Bob Marley here.  The You he talks about, for the purposes of this blog, is Yourself.  This is a love song you must sing to yourself.   Play it now and dedicate it from you, to you.

Notes on Loving Yourself

We know we must do this.  But what does it look like?  It is a lifelong commitment to getting to know yourself, warts and all, without judgement.  Without judgement.  Try this idea

meet yourself where you are, not where you would like to be.  

In our world, we understand that we must strive to be somewhere, be someone, look good, be successful, not get weary (we can be tired because that may indicate we are overworking and overworking is good), have all the answers, never be wrong, be a version of ourselves we just cannot seem to grasp.  To meet yourself where you are, is a powerful, gentle, coming home to yourself, if you do it without judgement.  After all, what is the point of judging yourself?  It keeps that smoke screen of perceived failure up so that you can feel despair without having to actually come back into yourself as you truly are, right now, right here, in all your vulnerability, and stand in your own space. 

Meeting someone where they are is what you may do to a friend with a problem that feels insurmountable.  Or your child who is lost in self doubt and fear about something you as a parent can see is getting out of perspective fast.  You see how you can apply it to yourself?

Meet yourself where you are, play Bob Marley again above, and take a deep breath.  That is where you are.  It is what it is, and it is fine.  Where you want to be, is a whole different thing, and though it is good to have an idea of where this place is, the judgement that we are hoping to step away from, will fire up that smokescreen of despair and fear again.  So just focus on the meeting yourself where you are for now.  It takes courage and you need to be affirmed for doing it.  We can't get to the top of the stairs until we acknowledge we are at the bottom of them.  Standing at the bottom of the stairs and feeling a failure, will not get you to the top.  You have to notice you are at the bottom, see how to move forward, and then begin the climb.

Perhaps the idea of your magnificence is too much for you.  But what if it is possible?  Remember again that if energy follows thought, and you decide to think that you are magnificent with a small m, perhaps that is a good start.  In the same way, if energy follows thought and you think you are rubbish, fat, can't make money, then can you see, that is what you will be?  

Play Bob Marley again, take a plunge, meet yourself where you are, give yourself a break, smile and tell yourself it is good to meet yourself again, and simply let that be enough.

Where you would like to be can happen later, once you have acknowledged that who and where you are right now, is good enough.  In fact, possibly, magnificent. 

Events coming up to which you are most welcome

Loss Conversations will include accompanying the dying, grief, bereavement, love life and hope.

Coming Home Workshops, coming back to ourselves.  In which we explore how we have become disconnected and homesick for ourselves. A short two minute description follows here

Two next workshops are - 

Sunday 8 April at My Sisters' House Arun and Chichester Women's Centre in Bognor Regis

Sunday 6 May at The Waltham House Studios in Bognor Regis

For details, descriptions, booking information follow the link below


Friday 2 March 2018

Stepping into Magnificence - a progress report (love, life and a reality check)

"The journey to Magnificence starts with a single step"


"My feet hurt"

We are all so very human. (Bring me some more Cheddars)

The journey into Magnificence isn't all plain sailing. What doesn't happen after having made the decision to step into my magnificence in my last blog -

- is that suddenly, I am utterly magnificent.

Magnificence is a state of mind.  Everything is a state of mind.  I think this because having stated that this was my way forward, I fell ill, got spotty and became fat.  Before trying for magnificence, I imagined that it would make me look  different, I would glow, or walk a few centimetres from the ground;  I would emanate it.  It was a given that I would be different, and better, and everyone would wonder what was my secret.  Despite knowing that it doesn't really work like that, a large part of me just hoped that it would.  What happened was, I became ill before Christmas, stayed that way over New Year, and carried on until February.  Along with the health problems came bad skin, and because of the need to feel better, I ate fifteen good meals a day and decided to wear my pyjamas from now on as none of my clothes fit me any more.  This, I said to myself many times over, does not feel magnificent.

But it was.  It is. The magnificence I am stepping into is a deeper, more evolving state.  It would be wonderful if I morphed into Angelina Jolie, because we tend to think that is how magnificence works; it looks good, it feels good, it does good.  We like the idea of being the all round golden package, where in order to be it, we look it and then we can do it.  It is a bit like perfection.  In order to be magnificent, I must look magnificent, and then I can do magnificent.  Perfectionism is a bit like that, impossible to achieve, and always frustrating and disabling.

Here I am then, on my journey to magnificence.  I have stepped into it, as planned, on January 1 2018, only to find that my confidence was tested at once.

Question - How can I be magnificent if I am fat, spotty, and sitting on my sofa all day?

Answer - Because you just are. 

We are all just human, wonderfully human.  This is how it is.  We are not always, if ever, sleek and shiny, we do not have all the answers, we are not always right, and we make mistakes.  We cannot predict the future, we already have enough, we are vulnerable and we want to be loved.  Our bodies do the best they can for us, we are still alive and with that comes the possibility of making good choices along with the bad.  The fact that we are still here, still thinking, still breathing, is always a starting point for progress.  The fact that we are still here is a miracle.

Magnificence, stepping into magnificence is so much more about wisdom and love than it is about looking the part.  It is about understanding yourself, looking deeply at who you are and who you say you are.  Remember energy following thought?  That give us a responsibility to think well, of ourselves first and foremost, then of everyone else.  It is a huge and ongoing job, to become aware of just what we are thinking.  What we are thinking creates our reality, think about that.  Really, think about it and notice what those thoughts are.

Love and wisdom.  The gathering of a life's worth of experience and looking for ways to forgive, to love and to let go.  And often that life has experienced great pain, huge loss and deep sadness.  It has experienced rejection, illness, shame, injustice.  The way to magnificence is through all this, acknowledging it all, learning to practice love and acceptance, and finding humour, companionship and belonging wherever possible.  It is the courage to speak our truth, and for the purposes of magnificence, that truth is based, as best as we can, in love.  It is a journey of grace, and it does not happen over night.

Magnificence does not happen over night

Which brings me back to my sofa.  Sitting, sulking because having announced I was stepping into my magnificence, the halo I thought I would get had not happened.  My body was hurting, my skin felt bad, and even my hair didn't work.  And none of my clothes fit.  Damn. Even worse, I was less inclined than ever to love my neighbour as myself, everything was all wrong and I needed even more deep fried cheesy chips to cheer me up.  I had made a mistake.  Bring me another packet of Cheddars.  I need to think.

It isn't a mistake.  Magnificence comes from experience.  All experience is transient, and when this bit of experience is over, what I make of it is another step into, or out of, magnificence.  It may be the best thing for me to be longing to go forth and shine, only to be forced to experience sitting down and not shining.  It is about authenticity.  I was being asked - what is your magnificence all about?  Can you handle it?  It isn't all about being wonderful and having people think you are special.  It's about your vulnerability, your acceptance, your patience.

Fast forward to today, the beginning of March and my body doesn't hurt any more; I feel much better.  I have my energy back, I am grateful and I have a greater respect for my poor wonderful body that does it's utmost to do what it can for me.  I'm still a bit spotty, but that's OK.  In fact, it's neither here not there.  When I see my grandsons, they don't say my, Grandma, look at that spotty chin.  They throw their little arms around me and are simply delighted I'm there.

My own sweet spotty Grandma, says George

So this stepping into magnificence lark.  I am still learning, still a beginner.  But I am on the road! Intention is all, they say, and I have made my intention.  I am stepping into my magnificence, because whether I am fat or thin, spotty or not spotty, well or not well, life is just such a miracle, and all our experiences give us such wisdom, such grace, and such hope.  (Still wish I looked just a bit like Angelina Jolie)

I run two workshops into which I channel insights into magnificence - they are explained below, and they are open to all.  There is such a need for gentle, kind talking and creating together.

Coming Home Workshops

Next workshop Sunday 6 May 2018
Waltham House Studios, Town Cross Avenue, Bognor Regis PO21 2DS
9.30am to 4.00pm, eight places available per workshop.

How is that we wander so far from ourselves?  We find ourselves feeling lost, disconnected, on the outside looking in.  There is so much more to us than this, we feel, but we do not know how to find it.  How do we give our power away, and how do we learn to avoid that? The morning is spent exploring ways we have got lost, become homesick for ourselves, and how to come back home.  The afternoon is spent in playful creativity with Life Boards, and absolutely no creative experience is required.

Click on the link below the next workshop for all the details.

Quiet Spaces, Living and Dying

The next workshop is on Friday 16 March 2018
Waltham House Studios, Town Cross Avenue, Bognor Regis PO21 2DS
From 2pm to 4pm.  

In between our living and dying are the quiet spaces.  In this workshop we talk together about what it means to live and what it means to die.  What we fear in death, we fear in life too - and what we think of our lives has an influence on the way we die.  A good way to begin to think things through is to talk together about them.

Click here for details and booking information for both workshops.  I hope you will join us.

Afterword -

Feeling an awful lot better and happy to let magnificence take its time.