Tag: Writing for Wellbeing

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Love

It’s the time when we in the northern hemisphere receive our maximum amount of sunlight, when nature is in full bloom, when Yang, our masculine energy, prevails and the Sun energises us, inspires us, motivates us to shine, to create, to express. From now on, darkness will slowly increase day by day and we will move more and more into our Ying, our feminine energy and begin to slow down.

For me, the Universe has recently provided me with a reason to rest … so that my body can heal and although it is not natural for me to slow down, I am reminded how important it is. I have chosen to see this as a positive thing and to learn to honour my energetic capacity and to balance activity with rest.

One of the ways I am focussing on this is to meditate more on love.

Below is a poem I have recently written from a prompt my wonderful poetry tutor gave me about learning … ‘what are you learning?’ …. she asked.

The image above is a mixed media painting I completed earlier this year …

The Love Machine 

I’m learning so many different ways to love. Take for example, hugging a stranger. Stepping towards them rather than waiting …  in that silent, awkward no-dance. That’s one way, and how about in the whisper of a prayer for the earth? Or saying a cheery hello to the man sitting on the cold concrete with his dog, rolling a rollup? And in stopping and saying, ‘yes I have some change to spare.’ 

I’ve realised books about love don’t help. Love is in the doing, not in simple sentiments slipped from the tongue. Love is more than expression, it is an act. And it’s an allowing, such as permitting the sun to penetrate my being, the blackbird’s sweet song to wash over my skin, the past to remain where it is … unreachable. It’s an unknowable future, and an unshakable awareness, that this moment, as you are reading this writing, is all there is. 

Being brave is a way in … to loving others. It’s also a way in to letting others love you. It’s a practice I’ve discovered along my path … after love found me … when I lost him and when I realised I was free. When love showed me how, loving got easier. Putting my hand on my heart and resting it there. Knowing I am worthy and perfect as I am. Smiling into my own eyes, and into the eyes of every sentient being helps turns the dial up. It’s being present. That’s how the machine works. 

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Unfurling Unfolding Unravelling

Here in the northern hemisphere we have just welcomed the first day of spring. In astronomical terms, this occurs on the vernal equinox on the 20th March. This ‘naming’ for me feels like a jolt or a jump from one thing to another. It feels unnatural and out of alignment with nature. This labelling and dating doesn’t connect with me in the way that the gentle transitioning of the world around me does.

I have been aware of nature beginning to unfurl, unfold and unravel for weeks. The snowdrops, the crocus, the multiture of tiny buds appearing on all plant life, the birds investigating nest sites, the hedgehogs stirring. It’s happening continuously … life doing its thing … even seeds lying in the ground in winter months are pulsing with energy, getting ready to rouse themselves from slumber.

In my life, for I am at one with nature (as we all are), I have been unfurling, unfolding and unravelling. It’s a force of nature without interruption, this growth, this awakening, this spiritual journey of the soul. It is magical. It is to us in our human form, a mystery. But what is magical and what is mystery? Nothing but human labelling.

The image above is a piece of mixed media art … one of a series I think of as my ‘dreaming mind’ paintings and below a recent prose poem.


Ice and Snow

It’s when the cold comes she steps outside into the blue night. She’s dressed in white tassels. The glass icicles in her hair help her feel part of this landscape. Her hands and feet tingle, energy propelling her forward. She moves faster. Snow crunches beneath her feet, a rhythm she finds soothing. Soft flakes fall to rest on her dark lashes, her red lips. She tastes them on her tongue. Flurries swirl around her, obscuring the distant mountains she knows are there. They beckon her on. She must reach them by morning, for when she does, she will know if he is waiting for her, like he promised. Always and forever as ice and snow.

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Seasonal Solstice Sentiments

Peace in Winter – a mixed media painting on board by Lyn

At this seasonal solstice, may all Beings everywhere and without exception find peace, peace, peace.

Why Not

Choose Peace?

Open the door and step outside.

Maybe there’s a tree, or a wood, a garden,

or a magic world where you can pause.

And be still.

Why not? 

Get to know fully, headlong, the presence of your own human body.

It is yours after all.

It is precious.

Listen to your heart.

Connect to your essence. 

Don’t be concerned with life-long tasks.

Listen to the voice within.

Listen to silence.

Why not?

Things are changing, starting to snag, spin, snap 

and fly off into the ice-blue yonder of the long winter’s afternoon.

Go with it, let out the ooohs and the ahhhs. 

Close your eyes.

Relax.

And breathe.

Choose peace and love. Discover joy and contentment.

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Dreaming Mind – What Freedom Looks Like

Where did August go?

August is a down month for me – my learning subsides as my writing and my art tutors take a break and Vonnie, my yoga guru, suspends her classes. Usually I keep up my practice in all three delicious things, but this month I have let my writing go and have played around far more with different art materials to explore the style of art I would like to create going forward.

I have found my enquiry into mixed media and ‘playing’ has continued and taken over my writing. It’s been a delight not to think about words and how to craft them into a finished piece and allow my mind to dream in colour, shape, light & shade and discover what brings me joy … to discover what freedom looks like.

Slowly, like the depiction of the trees above, I am discovering my own unique style and building a body of work that one day, I may decide to share.

There have been no rules, no pressures, no expectations, only a desire to keep showing up … but only because the process brings me pleasure.

Creating pieces of art (and writing) are totally transportable activities. I only need a few simple art materials – pens, pencils, watercolours, a sketch/note book and I can fall into my dreaming mind and find freedom wherever I am and whoever I’m with.

These small materials, packed away in my bag, make for a wonderful travelling companion, as I discovered recently when I ventured away from home on my first solo holiday. I travelled to Germany to join a small group of people on a cycling tour of the Bavarian Lakes. I carried a 6×8 inch sketchbook in my pannier during the day that I took out at every coffee and lunch stop to play around with colour and form as a way to relax and remain centered. In the evenings, I popped a tiny 3×4 inch sketch/notebook in my handbag and at the table as we dinned, had fun playing with pens and crayons. Nobody seemed to mind as I doodled and wrote a few words and even if they did, I was free in my dreaming mind regardless of what others they might say … or think … this wouldn’t matter to me … their energy would not disturb my peace …

golden canopy

shimmering birch leaves shelter

a green damselfly

under orange skies

dancing, skating, being free

earth cries while trees weep

I adored my mini cycling adventure in Germany and being with my travelling companions (my sketchbook, pens, pencils etc) and I loved rolling out my imaginary mat morning and evening to practice my yoga which I cannot be without.

As always, it was wonderful to come home and this month, I am excited that all my classes resume and I can go back to learning from my teachers and creative friends.

Yesterday, I rolled out my physical mat to join Vonnie in her first zoom class. She began with a quote:

“Peace – It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart.” Menaka Desikachar

How lovely and how serendipitous.

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Painting my Emotions

I have come to realise my emotional nature is my greatest asset in creating art and writing poetry from ‘inside out’. Connecting with my creative ‘voice’ is a satisfying practice and with this comes joy and a sense of fulfilment … even a realisation of why I am here in this body, on this earth and what my purpose is.

I am learning to ‘let go’ and relax when I create, not try too hard and to trust myself in the process … to go with my instincts and keep my heart open. When I get into the flow of creating, I discover what really moves me, what I care deeply about and what excites and inspires me … this is the doorway to finding out who I am.

I am … I have discovered … painting my feelings … my emotions …. these come from my thoughts … from my mind … and as I always (mostly) have a busy, overactive and stimulated mind, these ‘play paintings’ are a beautiful way where I can process and empty my mind.

Over the last few weeks, I have been creating art each day, sometimes settling down for a couple of hours, other times, snatching a narrow twenty minute window. However long I am at my art desk isn’t important, but turning up every day is. Everything we wish to achieve in life (even if it’s resting and doing nothing) requires a consistent approach. If we can find the discipline to practice, then we will reap the rewards.

As I have moved from memoir and short story writing into poetry and from a realistic painting style (where I tried so hard to find a likeness be it in a portrait or a landscape) towards abstraction, I am learning to:

  • Always be kind to myself (silencing the inner critic)
  • Trust the process and keep going
  • Have trust in myself and my instincts, even when things go ‘wrong’
  • Distinguish between emotions which enrich me and keep my energy levels high and those that are negative and deplete me
  • Accept that fear and hurt are part of growth
  • Accept that showing my vulnerability and staying open to connection are also part of growth
  • Keeping being curious as curiosity ignites inspiration and new ideas
  • Know that I will discover my creative purpose … that it’s not something I ‘should’ have or will ‘earn’ … it is simply who I am.

Below is a poem I wrote from ‘inside out’ and the above images are two peeks inside my sketchbook where I have painted my emotions.

Listen to the Rain 

Imagine waking after a dream debacle, discovering a deluge of rain, a wind that is never weary and a porcupine lying beside you. Considering options, you succumb to an overwhelming urge to break free and give yourself over to the rain and listen to what it says:  Days go by, depressing days, dark days, lonely days. Life is hard, life is lonely. You miss everyone that ever mattered and everything is harder now you are older and another biscuit doesn’t help anymore. Walls are cold and your body is colder, stiffer somehow but you don’t understand why, nor why absence scatters wide and low, shattering any hope you have for everything you yearned for. But with rain comes flowers, thirsts are quenched for every being. When it’s raining, the drops hit the roof and harmonic sounds make melodies, a unique genre of music and despite all your misery, being soaked by tears from the sky, it will always rain and that is a good thing. 

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Summer Solstice 2024

As I write this, here and now, it is the longest day of the year. It is time to celebrate the many blessings bestowed on us as human beings … especially of just being conscious and of the beauty and infinite wonders of nature. The summer solstice reminds me to be grateful … simply for the sun … to always follow the sun … and to give thanks for the return of the sun’s light at summer.

Today I have celebrated by taking in as much sunlight as possible and finding moments to be still and reflect … on things that light me up and keep me feeling joyous … like being part of nature and to have my art and poetry practices.

I continue to have fun with art and with the poems I write. Here is a poem I wrote earlier this month and above I have shared a few of the play paintings I have completed using a watercolour base with other mixed media mark making.

The Art of Loving

When your whole world pours down

Be with the dove with a broken wing

The art of loving is your practice

When she covers you in silken ribbon

Then leaves you hurting like a sting

When your whole world pours down

See what the acorn has deeply hidden 

How night turns to day winter to spring

The art of loving is your practice

Even if her silence holds you stricken 

Her words of forever always cling 

When your whole world pours down

See how the sun remains yellow crimson 

The stars and the moon dance and sing 

The art of loving is your practice

Remember the Universe will listen 

Remember all of living is a feeling 

When your whole world pours down

The art of loving is your practice

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Sacred Pause

As April draws to a close, so does national poetry month. As last year, this month, I have challenged myself to write a poem a day. Rather than post them all here, I have been sharing my efforts with my poetry group. It has been fun and stimulating.

During this beautiful month of the changes we can see happening all around us in nature, I have been pondering more and more about personal growth and how I can change, flourish and blossom as a creative human being.

I have been writing alongside everyone else in my poetry group using a daily prompt. It has been incredible to see so many different poems arising from the same prompt, so many different approaches to the same theme. To share, to give and receive comments and constructive feedback with other poets has been inspiring and motivates me to continue writing poetry.

It is truly remarkable for me that I can now say, yes …. I am a writer …. and finally I am poet. I was maths, function and logically orientated at school, being fearful of expressing myself during English lessons and avoided wherever possible poetry and essay writing … I didn’t really appreciate what a poem was until about five years ago and didn’t start regularly writing poems until 2022 … now I find I can’t stop. I find this really interesting, as I am convinced it is this discovery of who I really am (the soul) that is driving my creative journey (the yoga, the writing, the art, the singing and the dancing) leading to a ‘coming together’ and a connection I feel with the universe (the divine).

Writing poems is a mindful activity … as a writer, for me, it is essential to be an observer … of myself, of my behaviours and of other people’s behaviours and generally of the world around me, especially the natural world. I am curious … always asking silent questions within my mind, and pondering what the answers might be … it fires up my imagination and enables me to create prose pieces and now poetry.

April is a great month to write. There is so much change happening in nature, new beginnings, new life new stimulus for my senses to spark creativity. This time of year though, I have to work harder at being more mindful and aware, to really notice the changes happening around me, because everything is changing at such an alarming rate. Now is when the year seems to accelerate. How one moment, I may look out of the window and see the prunus tree in the front garden in blossom and the next, realise the blossom has blown away and the tree is full of its rich burgundy leaf covering. How did that happen and how did I not notice when several times day I walk, cycle, or drive past it?

Being aware of the changes happening inside me too is a mindful practice. It’s a terrible cliche, but nothing stays the same. Our bodies change from moment to moment, our emotions, our behaviours, our relationships. This is why during April, I like to take up the challenge to embrace writing each day.

Thinking of my writing practice as a sacred pause helps. Once a day, I consciously take the time to stop everything I’m doing and focus on the here and now …. just being. I either sit up with a straight spine or lie down on the floor and concentrate on my breathing. Conscious breathing as part of my yoga practice is essential for stilling my mind and tuning into my body and applying this same technique to my writing practice really helps. I can then more easily get in touch with my feelings and use this as pathway to a deeper heart-mind connection and therefore a more fruitful mining of words. From this place of stillness (and it may only take ten minutes), I find I can move into my writing time more centred and focussed and therefore crafting a poem comes more easily.

Taking a sacred pause to consciously breathe well can hep with any creative endeavour and during April, I’ve been using it with my art too. This month, I haven’t managed to complete a collage painting, but I have been playing around with pink and green, a great combination. It’s been playful and fun.

During April I have been experimenting with Japanese forms of poetry. Here are three poems using three such forms … all with the theme of the moon.

The Tanka Form

yellow moon appears

blooming in a purple sky

bleeding red petals

choosing pleasure over pain

I release you from my dreams 

The Haibun Form

A silver moon large as a golden sun bathes the earth and the oceans with pearly light. The wolf howls at a million stars and deep beneath the waves, the blue whale moans,  blowing a million tiny bubbles in the air.  

earth, ocean, wolf, whale

greeting, calling, connecting

universal love  

The Haiku Form

lavender moonshine

dozy dormouse unfurls his

caramel belly 

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Keep it Simple

Celebrated each year, today (21 March) is World Poetry Day. When I reflect on how many human beings there are in the world writing poems today, I feel both overwhelmed and humbled in our shared humanity and love for the lyrical word.

Writing poems can be transformative. It is a creative form that gives writers the ability to express deeply felt feelings, experiences and hopes in a sometimes hopeless world. Despite our uniqueness and the many divisions and disparities, much of what we feel and experience as being human is similar, especially our relationship with nature.

Sometimes the most uncomplicated poems can be the most effortless and turn out to be the most satisfying to craft. Below is my simple poem for today and above my recent collage painting.

Today 

Today I watched a woodpecker drilling the trunk of a birch tree. 

When he saw me, he hopped among the branches and in a red flash, flew away. 

Today I met with a friend whom I love for the man he is becoming.  

Today I drew a picture of my brain and was amazed by its complexity.

I marvelled at its intricacy, its many pathways and infinite potential. 

Today I ate a bowl of frozen cherries, their icy form a balm for my rasping throat.

Today I listened to a broken man who believes in assisted dying. 

When I offered him my fear, I discovered a wall between us.

Today I discovered  I can be brave to reach out my hand to a stranger.

Today I realised I can accept loss and be comfortable with what is. 

I know I am enough for myself, that it’s all I have and that is ok.

Today I heard a woodpecker drumming. Today my spirit soared.

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Why Do I Write?

As a writer, I find it useful from time to time to reflect on why I write, why I consistently spend hours writing (or trying to write), crafting words into short stories, poems and memoir pieces. Creative writing is hard … most writers I know agree. If it is so difficult, then why do I persist?

For me, writing is a quiet, solitary experience which I find soul enriching. But it can be lonely, is often frustrating and sometimes ignites powerful emotions that can be challenging to process. I can spend a lot of time trying to write and not arrive at a ‘finished piece’ … I might not even arrive at a sentence I feel content with. Despite this, I find the process of writing to be wholesome, energising, immensely rewarding, and fulfilling … this is why I persist at the craft.

Recently, I have been struggling with my writing and so this is a good moment to reflect and ask myself:

Q: Why do I want to write?

A: To get to know and remain connected to my inner self (my soul / my ‘being’) … and … to discover all there is to know about me as a ‘human’, a person with a personality and an ego (we all have one) and who experiences this world through her senses. To explore myself as a human and continue to grow and develop to be the ‘best’ I can possibly be.

Q: How do I feel when confronted with a blank page?:

A: Receptive to what might come from within and with a willingness to ‘go there’ … even if I am lured to the dark places. Hopeful I will learn something about myself. Content if nothing appears, but acknowledging that if I can scribble something … anything … and just get started, then words will eventually flow.

Q: Who am I writing for?

A: Primarily for myself, for the joy that comes during the process, but also for anyone who, if they choose to read my writing, may be helped in some small way … to discover something new for themselves or simply to discover joy too.

Q: What would I like others to feel when they read, or hear my words?

A: An emotion … some reaction that comes from within that may awaken them to a greater awareness of themselves and that this might generate feelings of compassion, wellbeing and empathy.

Q: What is my greatest need as a writer?

A: To experience connection with myself, but also with other writers through sharing and mutual respect, with no judgement, total acceptance and compassion.

Q: What blessings do I want to offer anyone who reads my writing and/or who would like to write themselves?

A: For them to feel connected to themselves, to love themselves as they are (without exception), to know they are loved as they are in this moment, to heal from past hurts and to encourage them to say through their own words the unsayable and to be heard.

I write from emotional depth and because of this, writing feels like I am taking a risk. I like this feeling even though it can be unnerving when I share my words with others. Despite and because of this, I want to keep going with it, I have to keep writing …. never stopping … because writing helps me not to feel broken. It keeps me feeling whole and connected to the universe and able to express all of me.

I liken the process of writing to the feelings I have when I ride my bike through the landscape. Riding brings me great joy … it is my way into solitude and peace … it is my special place where I am at one with nature … when I can travel alongside the birds … when I can fly with them and be totally free … to be me …

The following poem was inspired by a writing prompt where I focussed on two words: ‘risk’ and ‘broken’.

Carry it Always 

And if I speak of risk, then I am speaking about being broken. 

My Uncle Clifford told me broken was like being ripped 

apart and stitched back together with wire wool. 

It hurts, he said and you are never the same again. 

Uncle Clifford took risks, but it wasn’t falling off his bike 

that broke him, when his skull hit the jagged side of a rock 

and blood flowed from the corner of his eye like larva tears. 

It was when they told him he wouldn’t ride again, 

not with a floppy head and a mush of wriggling worms for a brain. 

Uncle Clifford taught me devotion to risk, to carry it always 

on my person, like the shark’s tooth I found on the shoreline when I was ten. 

And if life gets boring, or puts you under pressure, 

he said, or if you feel you are trapped in a cage, 

then trace its form in your pocket and do it anyway. 

And if you forget one day and start to wobble, remember 

being broken isn’t about not being able to do anything, it’s about not trying. 

Today Uncle Clifford lives in a convalescent home in Southend-on-Sea.

He rides a tricycle along the seafront and watches seagulls scream. 

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Winter’s Grip

It’s mid January … a time of year in the northern hemisphere when many people struggle with their health and wellbeing … some find it difficult to shake off the low mood sensation of things around them being continually cold, grey, and dark. It wears people down and leaves them with only one desire – to do nothing other than curl up under the duvet and refuse to emerge until spring. These ‘winter blues’ can be indicative of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and if that is the case, then seeking professional help could be the best thing.

I am fortunate not to suffer low mood during the winter months. I could be susceptible, as we all are, but I try to always look after myself and one of the ways I do this is to spend time out of doors. I look to nature - it is my solace and source of comfort.

“Nature heals everything.” 

This was said to me back in the summer last year. A pure statement which I have always sensed to be true, but one I have never vocalised myself or heard stated before by another person in such a simple yet passionate and profound way. It moved me and has stayed with me.

It is natural for me to look to nature to help me cope with life. I can get through winter and ease its tightening grip on my sense of wellbeing by connecting with wildlife. Each morning I commune with the birds watching them feed on the bird-feeders. The sunflower hearts attract the goldfinches, blue tits, sparrows and starlings and the fat balls I throw onto the ground allow the robins, pigeons and blackbirds to join in and have their fill. It’s a joyful and simplistic way for me to begin my day.

Nature in winter is a season of struggle and beauty. We, as part of nature, also struggle and we can so easily forget about our beauty, our soul which is always with us shining steadily, glowing brightly deep within. We become susceptible then to neglecting ourselves, not tending to our wellbeing and succumbing to feelings of sadness and depression.

I combat this by ensuring I get out into nature every day, even if it’s only by opening the door and stepping outside for a few moments. If I do have a day when I can’t get out for as long as I’d like to, even just leaning out of the window and breathing in fresh air helps me.

To be in nature is a sensory experience … for all our senses and our natural body systems and rhythms … we all have an innate emotional affiliation with other living things and it helps to connect … with trees for example, or a winter sky, or the moon … anything that is living energy … it helps us feel less alone, less lonely.

Being out in nature assists in keeping me calm, reduces my anxiety and brings pure joy. Just breathing in the fresh air, looking up to the sky, or focusing solely on a single winter berry brings me to stillness where I can discover peace.

Being with wildlife, especially with birds connects me to a deeper part of myself where I can feel and express my emotions. It’s where I experience beauty outside of myself and inside of myself. Watching any bird can bring me to a place of stillness and harmony … but for my deepest emotional connection … and to fulfil my desire for freedom … I search the skies for birds in flight. When I ride my bike and there are birds flying with me, something magical and mystical happens … and I discover my sacred place.

My bird of winter at the moment is the crow. I have noticed especially this winter that when I ride, I am often accompanied by crows, moving with me through the huge lavender-grey skies we have here in Norfolk. When they are flying above, around and alongside me, my heart swells and I feel so happy.

On a recent bike ride, a single crow remained with me as I cycled along, when all the others had departed and flew over the landscape and away to the distant horizon. This solitary crow stayed with me and inspired me to write this poem and craft the collage you see above. Creating in this way brings me great joy in the process of making art … and I know whenever I look at my collage or read my poem, I will always remember my bike rides with the crows and the one crow who was my companion.

The Last Thing

What if you were a single darkening

crow among others and a woolly wind

blew you away and there you were alone

with few feathers, a floundering heart

and an edgy, endless sky before you.

Then, what if you fell, caw, caw, cawing

to the ground to find yourself

fluttering on a mattress of burnt-brown

leaves and the trees around you were

softly still and soulfully breathing.

And what if you listened to the trees,

learnt to let go of your feathers

accepting all that is and is not yours,

then gave yourself permission to rest

on the Earth that keeps offering itself.

You could pause there for eternity

as more leaves float down to cover you.

You could welcome the last thing to happen

to us all, as if it were just a beginning.

You could open your chest and fly

away into a heavenly lightening sky