In a couple of months I’m going on retreat to Sharpham House in South Devon where I’m hoping to learn meditation and mindfulness, geared towards those who feel burnt out. Well, I’m certainly that. It’s now nearly four years since Frog died and discovering how to function without him has been non-stop on every level. As my sister said, I need a reset (not to mention a rest).
As you might have picked up if you’ve reading this blog, it’s the ‘spiritual’ side of life that’s got me through so far. I don’t like the word spiritual as it sounds pretentious, but I don’t know how else to describe that part of me in a simple way. I also have trouble describing the quiet times I take while out walking the dog since I don’t actually meditate in an official way during them as I’ve never been taught how to do it properly. Hopefully the retreat will help with that.
The entire dog-walking period is a sort of meditation, I feel, as even if my brain is whirring throughout I always feel better afterwards, and often the whirring is interrupted and I’m stopped short by the beauty around me. Which is astonishing, given that I’ve lived in my current house for 45 years and been walking the surroundings for most of that time. Every day, it seems, there’s something new to see.
And here are some recent photographs of some of those moments.
On a misty murky early morning at the beginning of the month, as I wondered what point there was in still being alive, I almost missed these two jewels under my feet. I’m so grateful I didn’t step on them.
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| Feather |
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| Toadstool |
Here is a corner I found recently for one of my quiet times. I’d never sat here before and I couldn’t understand why not. I’m under an oak tree (as you can see from the fallen leaves), there are no houses staring at me, I'm hidden by trees and bushes, I can see to the horizon, and there’s some wildness around in overgrown hedges. All the criteria I unconsciously look for.
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| The perfect spot for a quiet sit-down. Ellie obviously likes it too. |
I encountered this lovely and perfectly framed view for the first time as I walked home along a lane I use almost every day. My house is the furthest white blob in the middle of the picture.
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| A new view of my house (the furthest white blob in the middle) |
Here is another route I’ve walked countless times. On the day of the photograph, in spite of mud and puddles, the approach of winter, indifferent weather and stupid worries that were wearing me out, I looked ahead and my heart was lifted.
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| Mud, puddles and Ellie |
