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2023 Week 46: Connection and creativity

BERJAYA

Some weeks you just feel out of kilter – a bit grumpy, finding it hard to settle, not being able to find joy. This week has been one of those weeks. I’ve learnt over the years that when I feel like this I tend to withdraw and not get much done. Whilst it is perfectly acceptable to have a duvet day, eat crisps and watch wall-to-wall detective dramas sometimes, it isn’t what helps to lift me out of the sump. What I need to do is to get out there, connect with others, get some fresh air and be creative.

In terms of creativity I’ve made some Christmas mincemeat and another batch of onion marmalade. I tinkered with Nancy Birtwhistle’s recipe by subbing apples and prunes for the apricots and soaking the fruit in apple brandy. Having a restocked pantry brings me joy, especially as I have now have some gifts to give away to friends at Christmas. I’ve managed to pop out to the garden and plant some bulbs. I can look forward to drifts of Tenby daffodils in the front garden and purple alliums at the back. A bit of delayed gratification does you good. And I found a slightly rusty doorstop in the shed and finally got round to buying some small pots of metal paint to refurbish it. It wasn’t a bad way to spend a rainy afternoon.

I’ve been doing a lot of research into ways to support wellbeing for a course I’m writing for students. I had thought that the act of creating something was a mood lifter but it’s more complex that that. Just these three creative activities have ticked off nearly half of 42 scientifically proven ways to lift your mood. There are obviously many connected with being outdoors with your hands in the dirt, surrounded by greenery, flowers and birdsong, with the sun on your back and the wind in your face. Getting some exercise and consequently better sleep helps too. But the simple act of setting myself small attainable goals – like tidying up the pantry, ordering more jam jars, buying some small pots of metal paint, finding the small paintbrushes, dealing with the box of bulbs that has been in my kitchen for weeks has all helped too. Then of course there is the eudaimonic happiness of doing small things that give meaning to life, doing something good for others, solving the puzzle of not having all the ingredients on the recipe list and finding ways to use what you do have – all of this contributes to the lifting of your mood. And let’s not forget the mood boosting power of repetetive chopping of ingredients, the catharthis of crying over the chopped onions, smelling oranges and snaffling the odd dark chocolate chip. (Yes there are some in the mincemeat!)

So that’s the creativity and getting outdoors. What about connection with others? I’ve made a conscious effort not to connect via social media this week and forced myself to get out and see friends. Pub quiz, coffee date, theatre trip – it’s all happened this week. I’m proud of myself for having taken plenty of my own advice this week. When I coach students about wellbeing, I’ll be talking from experience. Authenticity is everything. You have to walk the walk.

2023 Week 45: Writing letters

BERJAYA

One of the lessons I used to teach on the war poets that had the most impact on teenagers centred around letters. Handwritten missives sent from the frontline from soldiers to their loved ones. Young men who were not much older than my pupils, who were on the one hand starring death in the face and on the other subject to days and days of boredom in appalling conditions. Their letters document the conditions of the war but also reflect a young man’s hopes and dreams, tell the story of their relationships and provide a window into how they wanted to be remembered. Their voices remain strong over a hundred years after they put pen to paper.

In a world where you can be anything, be a letter writer. Letters are special. The letters you write, address, stamp, and send around the world carry more than just information. There is hidden value in a hand written letter. A handwritten letter landing on the doormat still has the power to excite, thrill or comfort. Letter writing was in danger of becoming a lost art before the pandemic but sales of notepaper skyrocketed during that time and has continued since. It is the antithesis of communicating by text, WhatsApp or email, taking time, thought, care and bringing with it a whole heap of benefits for the writer not just the recipient.

The time it takes to craft a letter and the intention behind it brings with it a sense of accomplishment at having created something meaningful. Of course the practice of organising your thoughts on paper also furnishes you with a sense of clarity about events in your life and experiences you have gone through, which can often lead to new understandings and a different perspective. In addition the act of writing a letter to a loved one gives you the opportunity to make that person feel special. The words you choose leave a lasting impression and what people remember most is how you made them feel. I still recall the anticipation of receiving letters from friends when I was living and working away from home and the joy when they arrived as well as thinking about the joy that my own letters would bring when they were received. I pictured the recipient sitting down to read them and imagined how they would react to the words I wrote. It provided a moment of connection and happiness. And what about the first letters we ever wrote – thankyou letters to Aunt Flo for the Christmas colouring books and pencils? When we express gratitude, our brain releases dopamine and serotonin, those feel good chemicals that are so important to our mental wellbeing. Aunt Flo would doubtless have appreciated the letter but it did just as much good for us.

Now that I work for Cruse Bereavement Support I see first hand the value there is to be had in writing letters. Some people treasure letters written by a loved one who has died; some terminally ill people write letters to loved ones to be opened on key occasions in the future; others write letters to loved ones who have died expressing their feelings as part of the grieving process. Writing letters has real value.

Recently I invested in some new notepaper to write letters to my children now they are away at university. Of course we use WhatsApp, Facetime, mobile or text but I so enjoy the hour I spend crafting a letter full of news from home for them to enjoy again and again at their leisure. An hour which both they and I know is entirely devoted to them, even though they are away from home, living their lives.

2023 Week 44: Bonfires, comfort food and getting outside

BERJAYA

I’ve been on a few rambles outside this week, dodging the showers and connecting with family and friends I haven’t seen for a while. Time outside every day was one of my intentions for November. It never fails to keep me grounded. I can feel my blood pressure drop, my muscles relax and my mind open up to problem solve or be creative. And when you return home with rosy cheeks and a ravenous appetite, there’s no better time of year for the kind of hearty, unfussy rustic dishes I love to make.

This week we’ve enjoyed veggie chilli, twice baked potatoes, mushroom risotto, leek soup and some delicious herby cheese scones. I’ll pop the recipe on my substack for anyone who fancies giving them a whirl. They are super easy but oh so tasty. We ate them with a smoky tomato and lentil soup but the ones that lasted until the next day were good with some homemade greengage chutney.

The rain has ceased, the wind has dropped and we’re off to the nearby village bonfire to gaze into the flames, enjoy a glass of something to warm the cockles and think of bonfires of years gone by. I love a fire festival.Its the Celt in me.

2023 Week 43: Bittersweet Sawhain

BERJAYA

I’ve felt out of kilter this week, not able to settle to anything and I think it’s because – in small ways – I’ve been resisting a natural desire to surrender to the darkness of the start of Celtic winter.

It’s a time for working on your inner life, deciding what no longer works in your life and making tentative plans to move forward in the Spring with new purpose. But not yet.

Now is the time for slowing down, hunkering down, reading, log fires, twinkly lights, creative projects, family and self.

It’s a time for remembering the past and honouring friends and family members who are no longer with us. It’s a bittersweet time but a healthy one if you embrace it. Giving space to emotions which might have been buried and processing them is vital to our wellbeing.

It’s a time for making the most of the natural light too. Even 20 minutes spent outside in daylight every day for the next few months will improve your mood in a noticeable way.

I’m taking my own advice and getting back to daily walks, working through a stack of books which has been forming on the bedside table and getting stuck into my volunteering with CRUSE. Preparation for this has involved a lot of contemplation of my own mortality and the impact of bereavement in my own life. Like I said, bittersweet but healthy.

I’m no crafter but I do write as a creative task. I discovered Substack some months ago and my new creative project for the Winter is a monthly Substack newsletter. The first is out this week. I’m aiming for the last Sunday of the month. I’d love to build a community of like-minded souls there, where we can share thoughts and projects. Head on over. You’ll find me here.

2023 Week 42: Half Term rituals

BERJAYA

This image popped up on my timeline recently from a friend. It pretty much sums up my Half Term vibe. Relaxed Autumn days, wet underfoot and slippery with leaves, afternoon coffee and cake, fresh air and exercise, a bit of half-hearted Christmas shopping and some store cupboard cooking. I’m heading out to buy ingredients for the Christmas cake today and by the end of Half Term the pantry will be replenished with a stock of apple chutney, quince cheese and onion marmalade. Some of those goodies will make it into Christmas hampers for friends. A week of welldoing. Good for me, good for the local shops and good for my family.

Of course, now that the children are grown up and I’m no longer in the classroom I don’t need to complete all these tasks this week but old habits die hard. It got me thinking about the importance of ritual, family tradition and seasonality. There’s a comfort in spending these few days in October doing familiar things. One of the most important features of rituals is that they do not only mark time; they create time. Time to connect, time to reflect, time to slow down and take control.

Anthropologists have long observed that people of all cultures tend to perform more rituals in times of stress and anxiety. Psychologists report that when subjected to stressful situations people’s behaviour tends towards the rigid and repetitive – in other words, more ritualised. Our brains are wired to make predictions about the world but when everything around us is changing, this ability to make predictions is limited. Cue higher levels of anxiety and the comfort of rituals, which are by their very nature repetitve, highly structured and predictable. When we feel that we have little or no direct influence over our physical world, performing these rituals provide a sense of order and control. I see it in bereaved clients a lot.

Friends and clients of mine have spoken this week about the seeming chaos of world events and how they have become absorbed in repetitive creative projects like sewing, woodworking, raking leaves or weeding; others have sought solace in the kitchen where chopping, kneading or stirring the pot provide a much-needed mindful calm. It’s not just the outcome of having made something delicious, beautiful or useful; it’s the repetitive process involved in the making that’s healing.

In the past I have used our Half Term rituals as healing activities from the long hours and high workload that accompanies being a teacher. In addition they have been part of a whole collection of family rituals. Family rituals shaped my childhood and were so ingrained in me that I was determined to make them central to my own family. They have given my children a treasure chest of shared memories, connection to their ancestors, a sense of belonging, validation and identity which, I hope, has served as a firm foundation for a happy and fulfilled adulthood.

That’s a lot of welldoing.

For teachers and school workers, I hope Half Term is a relaxing and healing time; for parents, I hope it brings moments of joy with your children and families; and for everyone I hope it brings you moments of connection, stillness and creativity.

2023 Week 41: The quince harvest

BERJAYA

Nothing shouts October at the plot more than the quince harvest. We have a rampant quince tree at the bottom of the garden. It fruits prolifically. Harvesting the fruit is tricky as it’s sited right in the middle of a semi-shaded border and, we have jobs and lives which means the rural idyll of spending time in the garden every day is a dream rather than a reality. Some fruit rot on the bough; some drop into the border, seemingly disappearing until it’s too late and they’ve been munched by squirrels or wasps; the rest are more than enough for us to use or give away. I don’t deny the wildlife their share.

Whenever I offer some to friends and neighbours the response is always the same. What do I do with them? I don’t think quince is a particuarly exotic fruit but, apart from quince cheese – which many believe to be a lot of faff – there is a distinct lack of knowledge in these parts about what to do with this fragrant yellow fruit. Enter my go-to guru Nigel Slater.

I’ve taken his best and easiest recipes and popped them onto a little card to stow with every bundle we give away. Find it below. I’ll be making quince cheese at the weekend – some for us and most to pop into the Christmas hampers.

2023 Week 40: Funeral plans

BERJAYA

Over the summer, I completed the training to become a bereavement volunteer with CRUSE. One of the very many things I learnt on the course was the importance of reflecting on your own mortality. If you are afraid of confronting the inevitable or keep putting it off, it is very difficult to be of help to grief-stricken individuals. For me this has not been a morbid experience but one that has given me comfort and allowed me to plan for what will one day come to all of us. At some point I will die and insofar as I can, I want to make that as stress-free as possible for my much-loved ones. And so, I have spent time over the last few weeks planning my own funeral.

Having thought through the kind of event that will reflect me and I hope will bring some comfort and even humour to my family and friends I intend to talk to them about it, take their opinions into account, make some decisions and write things down in a notebook – with links and illustrations. We will talk willow coffins, flowers, donations, graves, memorial trees, hymns, music, readings and parties. In fact the conversations I have already had have opened up fruitful lines of discussion about what still can be a taboo subject. We spend time making birth plans before our children come into the world, knowing full well that these may not work out. So why not death plans? I have no idea what the time or circumstances of my death will be and I hope it will be many years hence. But even if I live to be 100, I am now in the second half of my life and it feels like the right time to make some decisions about what happens after I have gone.

Without exception, CRUSE clients say they wished that they had had these conversations with their loved ones before they died. Whatever happens to me, it is not something my own children will have to say and I hope that by mentioning it here, that it might lead others to grasp the nettle.

2023 Week 39: Michaelmas

BERJAYA

Michaelmas is one of those festivals which can slip by unremarkably. It’s there in the naming of academic terms, the last hurrah of colour in my garden and mentions of hiring fairs from years gone by. It’s one of the quarter days when rents were due and accounts settled before Winter. Michaelmas is also traditionally the time that the blackberry harvest is over. Any picked and eaten now will taste bitter. To everything there is a season.

When researching Michaelmas I came across an article which stated that the celebration of this festival teaches us the importance of facing fears and strengthening resolve. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Our ancestors were about to move into the most meagre and difficult few months of the year before the return of the sun, growing crops and increasing flocks and herds. And for us? It’s no bad thing to face our own fears and move forward with renewed resolve. To anyone who, like me, started the month with optimism and a lengthy ‘to do’ list and has become bogged down in detail and delay, or even lost their way a little, here is another opportunity for a fresh start, renewed vigour and a burst of new energy.

2023 Week 38: Harvest Suppers, bulb orders and dodging the showers

BERJAYA

Over two-thirds of the way through September. Mabon. The Autumn Equinox. An Indian summer has metamorphosised into a monsoon; I’m contemplating getting out the winter wardrobe and a corner of the kitchen floor is home to a box or two of bulbs to plant in the garden. Last year the bulbs moved from kitchen to shed, only to be unearthed in January ….. but this year there are NO excuses. Grown up me is coveting a leaf blower as a birthday present – Oh! How my parents would roar with laughter – and there is a particularly fine crop of quince to harvest soon and share among my friends.

One of my favourite festivals of the year is Harvest. I love the hymns, the decorated church, the distribution of produce around the parish and the harvest supper. Sadly, this institution has all but faded away in many towns and villages but in nearby Broughton Gifford it is alive and well. We baked a suitably festive pudding (toffee apple muffins) and headed over to share food, fun, entertainment and news with friends we haven’t seen for a while and celebrate the season. It’s a time to be thankful before moving indoors for the six darker months, being more introspective, learning from the experiences of this year and clearing away the excess enabling a clear path for the future to reveal itself.

Introverts like my husband will appreciate that for the next few months as the nights get longer, the pace of life slows down. The energy flows inwards. It’s a time to light the fire and candles, to take up indoor projects, to read, to boost your intake of vitamin D, to get out the cosy jumpers and pyjamas and to nourish your body with soups and stews and crumbles. I’ll be making chutneys and other goodies in preparation for Christmas over the next few weeks. The cherry brandy is ready to strain and I have a new batch of fruit-infused booze on the go. (Recipe to follow next week.)

But for now, the earth is in balance.

May your own Harvest be a fruitful one.

2023 Week 37: Approaching Mabon, new routines and letting go.

BERJAYA

We’re two weeks in to the new term – no school, no beginning-of-term butterflies, no dreams of not being able to find your way to your classroom, your lesson notes or your ability to make students cooperate (Yes experienced teachers get them every August) and NO marking. There have been roadtrips with a carload of necessities for the student houseshares, ‘big shops’ to set up for the start of the university year, bittersweet goodbyes and adjusting to having one back at home in a job and saving hard for his own place.

When I was young I longed for days which were full of spontaneity but as I’ve grown older I recognise the great value there is in routine. Having given up the extreme routines of life as a school teacher I am in danger of being less than productive as a homeworker. What better time than now, when we are approaching Mabon (Autumn equinox) to feel gratitude for what has been, to let it go and to fuel my energies into establishing some new routines? You can get an app. or a life coach to help you with this these days- at a price. You can. I won’t. It’ll just be little old me and my trusty pen and notebook.

Part-time work, volunteering, getting my mojo back on the home cooking front, health and exercise, home improvements, gardening, friends and family – they all need attention. I’m letting go of the old ways and dipping my toe into new ones. Who knows? By the time the family are back together for Christmas I may have cracked it, one day at a time.

Wish me luck.

May your Autumn be full of abundance to share and time to reflect.

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