It’s my Birthday today, and I am so excited because I found a little present in our house this week – a little surprise from our resident bonsai tree: flower buds! The tree turned from autumnal leaves to new buds around Christmas, but it was its first year in our house, so we weren’t sure if it would bloom (it is a blooming type, though). And here they are, little flowers on the way, coming soon!
It’s winter. We are taking this time to rest. Our allotment is resting, too. Very few plants are still busy, so my options to admire growing Nature are limited. As I focus more on heavier jobs (improving soil, tidying up messy branches, maintaining the shed and greenhouse), I can still admire the borage. Our white and blue borage plants are everywhere, and I cannot get enough of their fluffy flowers. In Nature, spikes usually signal danger, yet those little bushy plants feel more like a fluffy carpet. They look stunning and work as a marvellous addition to any meal. I love freezing them in ice cubes for summer mocktails. Borage is a plant to grow if you want a whole sensory experience.
Good morning. I hope this finds you safe and well. I am waking up this weekend to the visceral realisation that it’s already Christmas. I expected to feel this way – we were so busy, so rushed, and so exhausted in autumn that I predicted this: Christmas came suddenly! While we managed to prepare the presents and the tree and plan everything a bit earlier than usual, the holiday weekend still feels sudden.
Good evening! I hope this post finds you safe and well. It’s a cold and gloomy weekend in Bristol, and it’s raining, so I am wrapping up in blankets and hiding in the comfort of our home. Since various holidays are approaching, I am spending time tidying up the home and putting away my paperwork after completed counselling studies. It’s time to organise and clean up my living spaces, so it is also the time to check in with all our houseplants. Each time I finish a major course, I adopt a tree. Usually, it is an olive tree to symbolise wisdom and peace, but this year, I decided to get a lemon tree. Simply because 2022 was incredibly challenging and sour. As they say: ”When life gives you lemons, make a lemonade”. I hope to make some next summer!
Last week, I posted about making my winter menu, and good job I did – the snow arrived in Bristol this weekend. It’s officially winter. Everyone in my close family celebrates their Birthdays in winter, so snow inspires me to think about my ancestry. In liberation psychology, ancestry is important as it supports the process of re-authoring the authentic stories of people who, due to racial or other forms of abuse, experienced a loss of identity and agency. I work on re-authoring people’s individual and collective agency a lot across all my services. It can be counselling, coaching and also social media consultancy.
Good morning. It’s foggy and quiet in the UK this week. The mosses “are out”, puffed up, plump, bright green and excited about the soggy weather. Nature is resting, and so am I. I am in a peaceful state of wintering, slowing down softly while finishing various bits and bobs of work before the holidays.
Good afternoon. I hope your Monday is as soft as mine. This weekend, I am visiting family in the Veneto region of Italy to reconnect with them after a long period of studies, to rest up and restore. Travelling helps me nurture a different perspective on life. So, as I prepare for my return, I reflect on the need for critical awareness (so very crucial for effective digital well-being).
Good evening! I hope this finds you safe and well. I took a week off posting because – as a wise poetry publisher once told me, “we only happen to be writers”. Sometimes, we have nothing to say, and that’s okay.
Who owns the rainbow? Who owns the clouds, the lakes, the trees, the autumnal leaves on a grapevine falling gently off an estate wall? You see, an animal won’t understand the concept of land ownership, for instance. A frog will come back to the same wintering pond but won’t ask us for permission to hibernate on our allotment plot. It will simply choose a safe spot to do so. If we “own” the rights to the plot, we claim the right to all Nature inhabiting it, but the frog – quite frankly – doesn’t care.
Yesterday evening, my nine-year-old dog, Poppy, required a small surgery to stitch up a deep surface wound. It turns out our park hawthorn bushes are sharper than anticipated – she caught her back while running after her precious tennis ball.