This is where I share with you, the contents of my heart and soul. What I'm learning, discovering, dreaming, doing.
Are you stuck at home with loads of time on your hands and maybe children in the house and no idea what to do with them?
Well here are some ideas for you to get creative, play, connect and have a good time together.
These are meaningful activities that foster connection, communication and understanding and can really help you spend quality time with your loved ones, in a fun and explorative way.
You never know what you'll discover so please let us know in the comments, how this goes for you.
You will need pens, pencils and one sheet of paper per game.
This will work with 2 or more participants.
Nominate one person as the leader and the rest as followers.
Everybody sets their pen or pencil down together on the same spot on the page. The leader then sets off, setting the course and the pace, while the followers moving their pencils along with them, try to keep up.
Swap roles until everyone has had a chance to be both a...
What makes for a positive journaling experience? Most people would connect this to outcome. That having 'good art' to show for it, makes for enjoyable time making it.
Not in my experience.
So you've decided to start journaling and you're really determined. You see how much joy and meaning it gives to others. You see how they fall in love with their practice, the depth of joy and self connection it adds to their lives and you want in.
You go out, buy yourself a gorgeous journal, you treat yourself, it's something special.
You tell yourself you can't do this, you're just not creative enough, as you try to suppress the disappointment and envy bubbling up inside.
Some people might try to combat this with a 'try harder' approach. ie, they will keep...
I’m choosing to celebrate ‘Blue Monday’, by releasing three things:
Welcome to my box of emotional crayons, pilgrim. All colours are welcome here.
I propose a revolution. How about we stop demonising the very normal state of dreariness, that inevitably arrives after all the fun has been had.
I'm celebrating Blue Monday by continuing the work of learning to show up as and for myself, without shame and even when it's the last thing I want to do.
Toward the end of every year, I facilitate for myself, a kind of spiritual retreat. I create for myself an abundance of time and space for self reflection.
My biggest learnings almost always point me back to my relationship with myself. Was I truthful? Was I compassionate? Was I courageous? Was I kind?
In other words, how well did I care for me?
Grief is a very powerful emotion, one that can easily overwhelm and take us away from ourselves.
With it, can come a restless and unnerving 'I don't know what to do with myself' state of being, as articulated here by the Author CS Lewis in his book 'A Grief Observed'.
“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing."
A ritual is a sequence of activities involving gestures, words, and objects, performed in a sequestered place and according to set sequence and can be employed to neutralise or prevent anxiety.
Rituals help ground and anchor us. They can give us a sense of place and space.
Many cultures have sacred grief rituals, the function of which is to help us process our losses, yet nobody teaches us how to mourn in anticipation of our inevitable need for a repertoire.
To lean in, tend and give expression...
Recently, I was being lulled to sleep by the rain at my window and in that mid state, I became aware of some words that landed on me with the lightness of a butterfly.
My first inclination was to disregard them in favour of the state into which I was melting. After all, I hadn’t been consciously looking for words that day.
So I ignored my poetic butterfly, but it wasn’t going anywhere.
Instead it lingered, flapping its wings and scalding me out of my semi conscious state until got up and wrote the words down.
The next morning, I awoke to find my notebook open on the bedside locker and the sentence written down inside the cover.
"The door for me is opened,
the question of the way is kind.
Trust the open door."
I was amused by it’s cryptic nature though its meaning wasn’t immediately apparent to me. Later that day as I was pottering about my studio, I realised I had been doodling door like structures all week. How interesting. There...