I love curating and creating spaces.  I want each table to be a shrine of gratitude and celebration. There is always space for candles and roses.  ‘I am part of that altar, a living talisman for the Universe’. Build Altars.

Waiting outside the holistic health clinic (honestly, I should just move in I’m there so often. Was there yesterday, back again today too, bless them). Shattering midday light on the old roses. Quick snap, unedited, unplanned but burnished light haloing the flowers must be honored.  My favourite place in the world was a sunken rose garden, box edging and laurel hedges behind. With an old arbour, cool shade sitting on cold ancient flagstones. To me it was where God lived. After all, I’d much rather live in a rose garden, under the sky, filled with scenty old flowers and rabbits ear plants than a chapel and I’m sure I’m not…

The January mornings are grey here. We use the SAD lamp, we light up the room with candles and old music. Sympathetic magic, let the spring come.  Linus reminds me that above the clouds the sun is shining, they are flying in gold up there.  I used to feel the weight of the clouds pressing down on me when we lived in Hampshire, in my memory it was wintery and grey so often. But then in Berkshire I remember waking at with dawn the light pouring in through the long white linen curtains. I used to go out and lie on the decking. We had no chairs so we’d drag…

I believe in sparkle. In it’s power to create smiles, share hope and brighten our world. We are alive, so I believe we should celebrate this by shining.  Glitter and bubbles and candles and celebrating being here by dressing up and using the good china. What is the special occasion you are waiting for? Isn’t being here; having a nice day at work; finishing the level on your game; your favourite artist winning a prize a special occasion?  I wore glitter in bed, I sent glitterbugs to my friend K and before she died she lay there covered in glitter and said it made her smile. Any why not? None…

This blog series has been an exercise in privacy and trust for me. I move from the part of me which knows the sacredness of storytelling, which is living freely and with joy. That has no need to hide. Against the soul shadows which crave intense privacy. A daily choice, challenge in bravery. We have just come back from a week in a cabin in the Forest of Dean. I loved it, I adore with the power of an aching true north in my heart the idea of being that far away from everyone, a cabin in wooded mountains with miles in between us and the world. A hideaway, and…