The sun rises on 2024, with three new words.

The sun rises on another day, the first day of 2024. It is hard work for the sun, rising on a midwinter day in the northern hemisphere. In this part of Scotland the sky is still dark when my body wakes naturally and if the sky is not overcast, golden light spills in through the windows as the sun approaches the horizon.

Silhouette shadows of plants dance on the walls as the sun creeps up and moves slowly across the lower sky.

Every day brings promise and curiosity about what it will bring. Just like the start of a new year. And I broach each new year with curiosity and optimism. Along with my hopes and intentions for the coming months. I bring my new three word mantra into the New Year to remind me of those hopes and intentions and to guide and inspire me to realise them.

For the past weeks I have been savouring my process of reflecting on the past months, thinking about the coming year and seeking the perfect words to capture those intentions. This past few weeks however, have had a mist thrown over them in the form of my second bout of covid. It has left me with a heavy fatigue and a mind that is foggy and slow. Seeking words has been a sludgy process. But as ever, the words themselves seem to play an important part of the magic. I have been holding on to a few precious words, trying them individually, sitting them together to see if they fit. They need to stand on their own communicating their particular intention, as well as being teammates which bring a synergy to the flavour of the coming year. I have been trying on three words for the past few days, but they seemed to jar a little together when placed side by side, a little like a jigsaw piece which looks fine but sits a little awkwardly. Distracted, I turned to my book yesterday morning and one of the first words I read called out to me from the page. I hadn’t found the right word, the right word had found me and slipped comfortably into the place of the word which didn’t quite fit. The jigsaw piece was a perfect fit, the mantra sighed and settled, and so did I, with my three words for 2024:

Contrive, preserve and glow

Contrive

In the coming year it is important that I use this precious time of unfurlment, or soft retirement, wisely. I have been drawing in a number of threads as I settle into this time of my life and I find that these threads have woven into a tapestry which is somewhat ragged and messy at the edges. I want to simplify and disentangle the edges and be able to focus on the main picture. Life is too short to be caught up in distracting details. The word which will guide me in this is “contrive”. This builds on ‘sculpt from last year. Contrive holds a number of nuances, and in particular I like the suggestion from contrive to be in control and proactive in shaping my space and life. This will remind me to be more intentional. I want to ensure that my time is balanced around those essential tasks which need to be done, adulting and the like, life admin and taking care of my responsibilities but also ensuring that I am spending enough time on the things which I enjoy and which are the whole reason for stepping into soft retirement. The lockdown years stalled many plans to shape my physical space and I want to pick up those ideas again. I want to contrive and create spaces which I enjoy to be in. I need to organise shelving for books, storage space for lifetime treasures and declutter some of the keepsakes and papers which amass. I have been simplifying the garden and I now want to shape that into the space I want it to be, where I am drawn to spend time. Contrive will remind and guide me to declutter and simplify my life and design that space as I want. The greater part of this focus is around my home, in recognition of the health limitations which recent years have brought. The past year saw continued health issues bring limitations and along with a change in perspective following the pandemic and an acute awareness of climate emergency, I am no longer drawn by the level of travel which used to be a major part of my life. My focus is more local now, and in the spirit of “contriving” to shape my time, I have already booked a poetry retreat in Scotland in 2024. This will be the most significant travel I will have undertaken since before the pandemic, such a contrast to life and work overseas. Grandmother’s suitcase probably believes she has been retired for good. Contrive will encourage me to carpe the diem in a way which is true to the much gentler life that I am now living. One where frugality and thrift are wise and fitting for the world we live in and for my own space in it.

Preserve

My second word is “preserve”. This word came to be first, and very early in the process. Again it builds on an idea from one of last year’s words. This takes forward  the focus to “harvest” last year. I have made some encouraging progress, consolidating the snippets of writing and swathes of ramblings and I have been refining that into a more structured state. I have been working particularly on my poetry, and find that with all the pieces written over the years and more recently I have a lot of material. I have been shaping that into what I hope will be some smaller pamphlet collections and (in my dreams) a larger collection. I have continued to engage in poetry and writing groups and sessions through the year and feel that I am learning and developing. I was delighted to be asked to share my poetry in the local library one evening talking through my journey both geographically and in writing, covering countries and experiences in many words. I have also been submitting work and had another couple of pieces included in an anthology, a few words in a collective poem to world leaders and performed a poem in an event at Edinburgh’s Push the Boat Out Poetry Festival. A real highlight was being longlisted in a poetry pamphlet competition. Not shortlisted, and nowhere near winning, but the longlisting gave me the valuable validation that there is something taking shape and that I need to keep working on it. What I would love to see would be for that to come to fruition in the future, and for my work to be preserved in a physical format, something that will outlast me. I have also been harvesting my photographs and similarly am thinking of putting together some collections, possibly into photo books but there are so many to choose from. That is a major task, but one which preserve will encourage and remind me to spend time on.

Glow 

My final word is “glow”. I chose this because it will encourage me to thrive, to live my best life and manage limitations rather than feel constrained by them. I won’t be running marathons or climbing mountains but I want to feel as healthy and thrive asfar I can. To see my limitations as something to work around rather than feel regretful or frustrated. Glow can’t change health realities, but it can remind me to be on top of managing my health and wellbeing. The past year has been a challenging one health-wise. I am a terrible worrier, and had been struggling with symptoms which were likely side effects of medications that I was on. Medication changes were slow to bring an improvement and I had to face up to investigations and tests to seek clarification. I also pursued a mental health journey to address unresolved issues from the recent and not so recent past. These have not be easy to work through, but the physical tests have eliminated sinister issues and while there is not a clear answer or diagnosis I have reassurance. The mental health process has brough peace and a level of acceptance of things which cannot be resolved or changed but which can now be rested. In the spirit of facing up to demons, I tackled one of my biggest fears this year. All because of an apple from the tree in my garden. A bite of this sweet fruit triggered a wildly sensitive area of tooth. After years of avoiding dentists following some awful childhood (and adulthood) experiences, I walked into a dentist, sat in the chair and have had that and another tooth treated. This was not in the plan, and I did not honestly think I would ever be able to go to a dentist. Now I have a Dental Plan which includes regular checks, hygienist appointments and a discount on treatments needed. My next plan is to find an optician and check my eyes and replace my glasses if needed. All of this work on my health and wellbeing puts me in a good place to thrive and glow in 2024, not assuming I will be in perfect health, but in the right frame of mind to manage whatever constraints I face.

Glow mirrors and complements the other two words, as it also encourages me to  strengthen the gentle contentment I have found with my life choices. It will encourage me to be active, prioritise my health and with my surroundings contrived to be pleasant spaces, I can enjoy being present in my home and garden. This also encourages me to enjoy opportunities which come my way, and to continue involvement in the writing groups, poetry workshops, Qi Gong sessions and other activities which I enjoy.

This is my 15^th three word mantra, and as ever, as soon as the words settled, I knew they were right. I am ready to rest my 2023 words, “harvest, sculpt and flutter” and pick up my new mantra, perfect for 2024.

This mantra will be especially important as the year will see a particular milestone, one which has been in my mind for many years. I will reach my 65^th birthday in the summer. One which I did not expect to see when I was diagnosed with cancer in 2009, and for which I am incredibly thankful. This birthday is also filled with emotion however, as my mother died on her 65^th birthday, 26 years before I reach the same milestone, a shadow which has sat beside me for all these years. I will be leaning heavily on my three words this year to support me and bring me strength as I approach such a loaded date. All the more reason to seize every day, and to “contrive, preserve and glow” throughout 2024.

May 2024 be kindly, and bring health, happiness and peace across our world.

The sun approaching the horizon on the first day of 2024

Seasonal Reflections

Once we arrive in autumn in the journey towards winter in Scotland, we are surrounded by change in the landscapes around us. We are been mesmerised by a fiesta of colours as trees and foliage transformed from fifty shades of green to  every possible colour through the leaf rainbow towards soft brown. We have seen all shades of red, orange, yellow, russet in a constantly changing kaleidoscope of autumnal colour all around us. 

The trees rapidly shed their colours and glorious branch sculptures emerge, spectacular especially when silhouetted against a stark wintery sky. Since returning to Scotland six years ago where the seasons have different characteristics, I have found this process humbling and it continues to take me by surprise.

A number of weeks have already passed since we shed Summer Time in the UK, and returned to standard GMT (Greenwich Mean Time). This shunted sunset abruptly by an hour and in Scotland we suddenly lost daylight well before the end of the regular working day. The days continued to shorten rapidly, by around 2 minutes in the morning and another 2 -3 in the afternoon. Soon by mid afternoon the light and colour starts to bleed from the sky and the sun sinks earlier each day, eventually slowing to a sunset well before 4 pm, though the onset of evening is felt often by 2 pm, especially on a day when cloud cover is thick. There are days when the light is reluctantly switched on long before the low sun actually sets.

It is at this time of year that my thoughts focus on my three word mantra. It has accompanied me all year long, walking quietly by my side, encouraging me and reminding me of the tone  and focus I had wanted to set for this year. It is at this time of year that I reflect on how each of the three words has guided me as I prepare to move towards a new year, and a new set of three words.

My three word mantra for 2023 speaks to me of my first full year in this middle land of “soft retirement”. Not quite full retirement, but a pause from the merry go round of formal work and the increased space to spend time truly unfurling – prioritising time to write, explore creative outlets , writing, rebuilding my strength and health, and venture out on gentle explorations around me. 

My first word of 2023 has been “harvest”. This recognised that over my lifetime I have a gathered a hoard of treasures. In addition to the physical collection of tiny and not so tiny mementoes of a life in many different places, each with their own memories and significance, there is a wealth of less physical items. I have so many memories, stories and experiences to relate, thousands of photographs, and so many words! Words in half written and fully written stories, poems, and fragments of bigger works such as the memoir. A clear intent behind “harvest” has been to gather these together and shape them into something more manageable and meaningful. And this has galvanised me into refining, organising and shaping my writing in particular. The year has seen encouraging progress in putting together poetry into a broader collection and even resulted in a longlisting for a poetry pamphlet, an evening in the local library sharing my poetry with a warm audience and other steps forward in the writing journey. There is still a long way to go, but the processing of harvesting has undoubtedly guided and encouraged me on the path.

My second word has been “sculpt”. It holds precious association as my mother discovered her talent for sculpture late in life and in her final years was able to develop that creative outlet. It is an important reminder that finding and pursuing that passion requires a balance in shaping our days. “Sculpt” has both validated my recent decisions to prioritise my creative activities as well as pushing me to be intentional and deliberate in how I shape my time. I have been proactive in connecting with the many opportunities, activities and communities which exist. This has resulted in days and weeks which are pleasantly busy and a diary which requires a bit of juggling. But how wonderful to be juggling diary commitments such as writing groups, poetry sessions, Qi Gong classes and the like. If I sit back and don’t sculpt my days, they disappear with a sense of regret. Of course, I do enjoy being able to take my days gently but having some shape is not only motivating but has also produced results from my harvesting.

My third word has been “flutter” and it complements the other two. While sculpting has planning and shaping integral to its purpose, “flutter” gives the permission to wander off when a new idea or opportunity flitters across my vision. I love spontaneity, and I perhaps relish in distraction a bit too much. However, giving myself permission to allow some fluttering when my attention is caught by a surprise, means that I am more intentional overall and have space for flutterings. And in the more literal sense, I still have a fascination for butterflies and their incredible innate magical transformations and migratory patterns. I am constantly astounded that a butterfly will migrate across continents and generations to settle in a place where that little butterfly has never been. How amazing that fluttering can open up unexpected journeys and possibilities.

A waxing crescent moon reminds us of our place in the universe.

The days march rapidly forward, and as I emerge from an unwelcome visitation from Covid, I find that I have lost precious weeks at this time of year. We now have just three more sunsets until we reach the winter solstice, when the sun will reach its furthest point from the north and begin its journey back towards us. Knowing that the days will lengthen and that a new year will soon begin breathes renewed energy to the search for the perfect three words to guide me through 2024.

Outing

Things have been quiet on the blog. And the is largely a reflection of the quiet that is life these days. In some senses.

I wouldn’t say that means that life is not full, but busy in a still kind of way. These past months have been a time of unfurling and leaning in to the realities of a world skewed by covid over the past months as well as adjusting to constraints of health matters and breathing in the gentleness of such a life. One which is mostly sculpted by matters which inspire and interest me rather than those timetabled. Ah yes, a life in soft retirement has so far been mostly kindly and tranquil.

Only a year ago, I was living a very limited existence as Covid continued to circulate, mutate and play on fears. Vaccination, being caught by the virus myself despite the limited interactions and outings and the evolution of treatments and knowledge have changed the atmosphere. While I am still relatively cautious, I have been able to venture out more frequently, further afield and to a far less limited type of activity. I still avoid crowds but no longer shun any inside venue or activity.

This is an enormous shift compared with 3 years ago. But alongside this, have been continued health concerns and limitations. these had not been so evident during the pandemic, but ironically, with greater freedom comes the realisation that these health constraints have been increasingly more difficult to manage. Side effects of medication for diabetes have played havoc with my digestive system and unpredictable episodes of pain have made simple planning very difficult. Holidays, outings and general involvement in activities which once I would do without a second thought have become much more complex. Unsure whether medication side effects are at the root of these symptoms has meant trying out different options to and as these symptoms continue, questions about whether there are other underlying nasties have to be explored. I don’t need to spell out the Big Worry that has been on my mind. And with some symptoms raising some red tinted flags, I have been on a path over the past weeks to find out what is causing the problems. So far no answers, but the major nasties are being ruled out and scans have been reassuring. That path continues, but it does mean that I am gently able to venture a little more adventurously and further afield.

And that is what this post is about – not the health situation itself, that is just the backstory to why there is a story. The story is the outing. An overnight outing. This is a major step in well over three years, and one which deserves to be highlighted here.

My outing was a two night stay near Loch Lomond, in the west of Scotland. Less than 2 hours from home, but a very different landscape.

In line with my life in general, this was a gentle outing. Pleasant evenings, picnic lunches, local exploring and early nights. Taking time to breathe in tiny wonders, such as watching hungry ducklings diving for food, their little webbed feet waving in the air while they scoured the water for tasty morsels.

And a glorious boat trip on the Loch. The sun came out here and there, the breeze was lively and while there were moments of discomfort, I was mostly well throughout the break.

Passing an osprey nesting, the little one visible to the naked eye but not the camera.

The picturesque village of Luss, well known as “Glendarroch” of “Take the High Road” fame

A change of scene is good for the soul. This was truly a pleasant and welcome outing after such a long period of containment.

Opening the door into 2023, with three little words.

In Scotland, the stroke of midnight heralding the New Year is known as “the bells” and it takes us from Hogmanay (New Year’s Eve) in the past forward in to the New Year. In Scotland the bells have now rung, and we have stepped into the New Year, 2023.

I hug my 2022 words close as I lay them aside, thankful for their company and guidance. They have helped me navigate an eventful yet ordinary year. Again, the year has thrown surprises amidst careful plans and my words have kept me on track.

2022 Reflections

This time last year, I was reflecting on more than the previous months and was aware of a growing sense that I wanted to slow down and spend more time on the things I enjoyed. That was captured in my first word, “unfurl”. I was exploring that balance between “living to work” and “working to live” and wondering  how to feel in control of my time. While I am not quite old enough to receive the state pension, I was increasingly aware that health has been challenging and  I am being realistic, not morbid to acknowledge that I am only a number of months away from the age that my mother died. These are precious years, and I want to enjoy them. A year ago I wrote:

“I am increasingly reminded that I do not want to spend my golden years working flat out. Moving to part time working has affirmed that, and whet my appetite for slowing down even more. My mother died on her 65^th birthday and as I approach that age, I want to step off the speeding roundabout and enjoy the benefit of having worked for the past 40 years, rather than work up to my last email breath.”

Over the end of year break and with the benefit of time to think, I reached a major decision. I would truly unfurl by stepping back from the stability and security of employment. 

This connected with closely with my second word “forage” as I had to be realistic. I would need to find assignments and small pieces of work which would pay the bills and provide the necessities. Having refined life quite considerably intentionally as well as reactively from the pandemic and health issues, as well as having moved to part time work, this was not as scary as it might have been just a few years ago. I knew I could “forage” for work and draw on the resources I have to live. And I have been extremely fortunate that things have found me, as well as me finding them and I am content in a modest lifestyle. 

Which confirms that I “savour” what I have, my third word reminding me to appreciate and value my life and everything I am fortunate enough to hold close. 

Again, my mantra has guided me through the year and 2022, the year where Covid played a less prominent but not insignificant role, is characterised by those words “unfurl, forage and savour.”

Embracing 2023

This is now the 14^th year that I have chosen three words for the coming year. Every year is a little different. Sometimes the words land quickly and easily. Sometimes they take longer and throw up more options. But every year, they settle and once my mantra is in place, I feel my shoulders relax and I am comforted to adopt the new words. This year, the words settled fairly quickly and I have been trying them on, ready to wrap around me as 2023 begins.

Harvest

The first word arrived very quickly and easily. I am a hoarder in that I gather and treasure little things that have meaning. I was struck during a recent writing group by mention of a “word hoard”, words which Seamus Heaney used and which chimed with a number of us. 14 years of 3 word mantras has provided me with a very rich word hoard. In addition to that though, I have a treasury of precious bits and pieces. But by that, I don’t mean valuables. I am surrounded by little “treasures”.  A Prague bus ticket, a bookmark from a little bookshop in Cambodia, a little water colour I found in a tiny shop in Zanzibar, a set of tea light holders from Morocco, a notebook from a women’s project in Nepal, an eternal desk calendar from Borneo, a lacquerware box gifted to me by a friend in Myanmar … These are treasure in that each one holds memories and sentiment which come rushing to me if I pick them up. They take me instantly to that place I was exploring and learning about and the people I connected with. That is the real treasure. I have a lifetime of memories, mega bytes and mega albums of photographs, snippets of half written poems and stories and I want to make the most of these. My first word will guide me, as I plan to “harvest” this rich hoard and shape it into something which I can share. 

Sculpt

That connects with my second word. In order to shape my harvest of goodies, I need to be structured. In fact, I need to ensure that in a life of unfurlment, I need to have structure to make the most of time and energy. My second word is “sculpt” and that will prompt me to shape and structure my life and activities. I will be reminded to bring form to what I am doing, but this will allow me to be creative and incorporate new ideas and opportunities. My mother was an artist, mainly painting and sketching but later in her life, she began experimenting with clay. I am not sure of how things came about, but her work attracted the attention of the art department of Aberdeen University and they gave her a scholarship to attend for several weeks to develop her skills and learn techniques. She would produce batches of pottery pork pies as kitsch mementoes for Melton Mowbray, the town she lived in, renown for pork pies. She didn’t enjoy making them at all, but she called them her “bread and butter.”  In other words, they provided the income and means to enable her to sculpt the pieces she loved creating. Harvesting that memory now, 25 years after her death, I realise I am doing something very similar and the word “sculpt” holds that additional precious association. I trust it to help bring shape and meaning to the coming months, and hopefully bring to life some tangible results, particularly in the form of writing.

Flutter

My third word particularly complements “sculpt” by recognising how easily I am distracted by tiny wonders from the corner of my eye and new thoughts and ideas from the corners of my mind. I am like a butterfly and when I “flutter” from one thing to another, new ideas emerge and I find myself off another adventure. That spontaneity is important to me and while I do need structure, I must allow myself to follow those flitterings of notions and ideas and see where they take me. Butterflies fascinate me, and I write about them as well as while away happy moments watching their own flutterings. 

And so my words have settled into their mantra, and I can hear them whispering encouragement as I step into the coming year. 

“Harvest, sculpt and flutter”

The sun struggles to rise at this time of year, but as we reach this New Year’s Day, I am comforted to know that the days are slowly gaining additional seconds of daylight. I know that January is a cold and dark month, and with festivities behind us is tough emotionally as well as physically. So I hold on to the knowledge that the days are moving in a direction towards spring.

And I walk towards those spring days with my words to guide me, and wish to each and every one, a happy, healthy and fulfilled 2023.

It’s that time of year …

It’s that time of year, finally. The day in the northern hemisphere marked in our emotional calendars as the turning point towards longer, lighter days. The winter solstice is here, and while the day today is bright, the sun barely lifts above the rooftops before it dips and not long after lunchtime the light fades. Tonight sees the longest night and from tomorrow the days will start, slowly initially, and gradually pick up speed as they lengthen. It’s a dark time of year literally, and in other ways too, so the promise of lighter days ahead is important. We are emerging from an extremely cold spell and the temperatures have now risen above zero, for a few days at least. The deep freeze outside is finally thawing and the birds can land on water instead of ice outside my window.

It’s that time of year when we have ten more days left of the year, and for the past weeks I have been reflecting as well as thinking ahead. At this time of year, I reflect back on the words I selected for my three word mantra and review how well they have guided me.

It’s that time of year when I am thinking of the right words to guide me through the coming year. I step back and think of priorities and areas which I need to focus on. I am surrounded by words, as I seek the perfect way to articulate what I aim for in the coming year. For the past weeks I have been jotting down words I see, or hear or read if they chime with my purpose. I have pages in my notebook alive with spider maps of words, synonyms, ideas and random thoughts as I shape the mantra for 2023. 

It’s that time of year when I have favourite words, sometimes a reasonably firm choice, sometimes a group of words which have not yet gelled into the mantra or are missing that final perfect word. This year I have three words which may (or may not) emerge as the final choice. 

Tea, words and reflections – shaping the 2019 3 word mantra

It’s that time of year when I try my words on and wear them before I commit. They need to fit and be comfortable, and we need to trust each other. 

And it’s that time of year when I wrap myself in my current words, “unfurl, forage and savour” and appreciate how they have guided and supported me through the year before I place them gently to the side with the words of previous years which have walked alongside me.

A time to pause and reflect

It’s that time of year again.

The leaves are changing colour and gently releasing hold of their branches.

The morning light softens progressively each day as the sun moves further and further south towards the solstice.

Berries and leaves fall on the ground creating a tactile, audible carpet underfoot.

The scent of approaching winter is just perceptible in the damp air.

I hug my three words of 2022, comforted that they have guided and looked over me these past months.

And my mind gently explores a universe of words in its search for a perfect mantra for the coming year.

Drawing in, breathing out.

Time and tide wait for no (hu)man indeed.

We are now at the autumnal equinox and the daylight is shrinking on a daily basis. Every morning two minutes are shaved from the daylight as the sun rises later, and a further two or three minutes from the end of the day. I am no mathematician but can easily see that this steals over half an hour of daylight in a week. In contrast to the spring equinox when the sun rushes to stretch the day, we feel the retreat of summer as we need to switch on lights progressively earlier. More layers are needed and the scent in the air brings a chill with the certainty of autumn and winter not far beyond. The light is softer, and lower in the sky, and the flowers start to retreat and withdraw.

The wider world and my personal world have changed so much, and yet so little. Two and a half years have passed since I closed my door as Covid threatened to intrude. And while its threat has been reduced considerably, it still lingers. It even stepped over my own doorstep in the summer despite living a sheltered and cautious existence.

Guided as ever by my carefully selected three word mantra, I have made some big decisions. With the intention to unfurl, I have completely adjusted that work life balance by stepping aside from the regularity of work and seeking to forage more to provide for my essentials. The past years have shown that we can manage differently, and with health continuing to constrain I need to make the most of, nay savour, these Voldemort years. I am moulding days and weeks to allow for a balance which favours reading, writing, and spending time outdoors when the Scottish weather permits. And reflecting. I have a rich bank of memory and experience to enjoy. Can you live vicariously through the experiences of your younger self, I wonder.

The onset of autumn months and years is characterised by this milestone that is the equinox. And this falls on the first of my cancer landmark days. The day I discovered the lump back in 2009. So it feels as if there is a synchronicity in this shift in the seasons, the shortening of the days and the ever bittersweet anniversary of my introduction to a life refashioned by cancer.

By unfurling, slowing down and refocusing I am striving to take control of my own little world in this universe of unpredictability and turbulence. And while the sun rises later and sets earlier on its march towards the winter solstice, it continues to backlight the plants and trees as they continue in their seasonal cycle. It is up to me to remember to open my eyes and see those everyday wonders which thrive around me.

Expect the Unexpected

When I first moved to Asia, I quickly became fascinated by the paddy fields. Terraces of glorious, shining green stretching as far as the eye could see. As the paddy started to ripen, the edgy bright green would start to deepen to a dusky yellow and laborious transplanting and thinning would make way for harvesting. But what particularly fascinated me, I am embarrassed to say, was that I could not fathom out how these fields of green could transform into the grains of rice on the shelves of shops and supermarkets. It was to take me more than one season of observation, understanding the threshing, asking questions and gathering little shoots of paddy to watch in my own home before I could unravel and understand the journey from field to rice sack and the transformation that took place. I am thankful that this was before Google was there to give me a quick answer!

While this fascination took place half a world away, it is one of those everyday wonders which happens under our noses. I have the same wonder now back in Scotland, and even in my fifth blossom season since returning I am still unravelling the mystery and magic of the everyday fruit blossom which surrounds us.

And who doesn’t love blossom? It is a sheer delight to look at, transforming the streets in shades of pinks and whites around us for a fleeting season with its exuberance and joy. But it goes so much deeper. In each tiny blossom there contains magic, hope and promise all in one. Each flower holds within it the potential to form a perfect apple, cherry, pear, plum, gooseberry, blueberry … But how many of us pause and watch as those exquisite little flowers turn into a completely different being? My curiosity has been similar to that of the rice journey, but at this stage in life, how have I missed the detail of the journey of our fruits? Each year since my return to Scotland, I have delved a little deeper and each year learned a little more.

Having discovered a blueberry bush last year, and enjoyed its produce on a daily basis while it was fruiting, I have been curious to see how these perfect berries take shape. This year the blueberry was one of the first to show little shoots of life when the wind and snow was discouraging signs of spring. And it has led the way in encouraging the rest of the blossoms with its exotic pink clusters of blueberry promises.

Blueberry blossom

Blueberry blossom

Pear blossom begins to unfurl in the Scottish spring

As the blossoms unfurl, mature and then gradually fall, I have taken the time to witness the particular path each is taking as its own fruit is nurtured. And it is such an intricate and purposeful path. I find it both comforting to see the power and precision of nature alongside shame that humankind is inflicting damage and destruction in the pursuit of power and greed.

Apple blossom, pinker than previous years

I choose to focus my attention on the promise of hope in the form of these little blossoms and the magic they contain. As the days march forwards through spring, and these northern days lengthen, I am bearing witness to surprises as the blossoms transform and tell their stories.

Against a steely grey sky, the plum blossoms have fallen, making starry silhouettes which are busy shaping into tiny plums.

Plum stalks

The petals are falling from the pear tree, and revealing work already underway as the stalks form into little cotton buds in the shape of minute pears. Little future pears.

The pear blossom

The elongated blueberry blossom is losing its red colour and forming into a spherical, blushing pink mystery which will be my breakfast staple in a few weeks time.

The beginnings of a blueberry

But perhaps one of the greatest surprises has been the humble gooseberry. A traditional fruit which transports me back to my childhood with memories of gooseberry jam, crumble and fool. And one which has been overshadowed by the availability of more varieties of fruits from further afield. So I was quite astounded to follow the journey of the humble gooseberry as it formed the most sophisticated lantern of blossom with great enthusiasm. These images are taken very close up and mask the fact that these little blossoms are half the size of my pinkie nail.

Gooseberry blossom, a sophisticated secret

And it is providing the most astonishing transformation that I have witnessed so far. The intricate and little known gooseberry blossom transforms into the tiniest, hairiest, most perfect shy gooseberry taking me back to my childhood.

And from the tiny intricate blossom, the first signs of a perfectly formed, miniature gooseberry

Thank goodness I have decided to slow down and unfurl, otherwise I might never have discovered these unexpected happenings right under my nose.

No matter where we are in the world, there are mysteries and surprises all around us. It is up to us to choose what we use our eyes and minds for.

Expectations, great and ordinary.

Where have these past two years gone? We have completed two whole journeys around the sun. The same sun which has risen on 730 mornings and set again in the evening since 13 March 2020. The very day when I closed the door on the outside world.

The sun rises a little earlier each day as spring equinox approaches.

As the sun sinks this evening, I reflect on this day two years ago. I was on my way home from work, with my laptop and some hastily grabbed papers as I was expecting to be working from home for the following couple of weeks with Covid closing in on us. It was just over a week before the spring equinox, the sky was a translucent blue in the fading daylight as I made my way from the bus stop to my front door. 

Heading home on 13 March 2020

I was not long home before my phone rang. I remember that family conversation so clearly, the deep fear of the virus which was already tightening its grip around us meaning that I began my isolation a few days before the authorities formally closed our doors. That is not new, I have reflected on this before. 

As I wrote in April 2020 – “I arrived home from work … having agreed that afternoon that I would work from home from then on to reduce risk while travelling to work on busy buses. I picked up a couple of items from the shop on my way home. Excellent stocking up – a jar of red pesto, a small packet of macaroni and some miso soups. I had no idea when I shut the front door, that I would not be leaving again for the foreseeable future. Family conversations that evening were frank and sobering. We talked through the risks that I faced. Age and underlying health conditions meant that I would not fare well if I contracted COVID-19. Additionally, as the pandemic took hold, the health service would be placed under extreme pressure to accommodate very ill patients. We realised at that point that I should immediately self isolate. And so, on Friday 13 March, I closed my doors to the outside world... Life has been transferred predominantly online. I have FaceTime, Zoom and Skype chats in the evening with friends, sometimes in small groups. Our Book Club and Writing Group now meet online. But even though life is continuing, it has been changed irrevocably. We don’t know when it will settle and resume and in particular, we don’t know what the new world will look like when it does settle.“

There was such uncertainty ahead. But on reflection I realise that did have some expectations. We had expectations that if we did catch Covid, then we would have some immunity in those very early days. There was a great deal of talk about vaccines taking time, but we had unquestionable confidence that we would see a vaccine at some point and that it would be the solution. I held the expectation that catching Covid would be almost certainly dire with my underlying and chronic health conditions. Another expectation was that as case numbers rose, they would surely fall as the peak of infections passed. However, the current case numbers are very high considering over two years have passed of the pandemic.

So it is strange to look back over the past two years which have both flown and dragged by, and look at how those expectations have measured up. Some have been surpassed, and some have surprised us. The vaccine has been a massive game changer, for those have access to them. While the global situation is one which is urgent and overlooked by too many, I am in that fortunate position to have had both doses, plus the booster. But aside that is the question of immunity. Not being an expert in this area, I have been shaken by the evolving realisation that immunity fades after infection, and also after the vaccines. Now we understand that the benefit of the vaccine is far more on reducing the severity of disease rather than transmission. Also, in those very early days, the variants had not appeared on our radars. Our expectations of new variants and mutations of the virus, with the unknown of how severe and transmissible these would be had yet to form.

Many of these expectations, I had not really acknowledged but they nestled in my mind. It is only when I pause at a milestone such as today, that I realise that I held so many.

When I wake tomorrow morning, on the first day of a third year since I closed my door, I will focus my expectations on the sunrises and sunsets and the spring growth in front of my eyes.

Welcoming 2022 with three little words

Welcome, 2022. Please be kind. Please bring health, happiness and strength across the world.

I do wonder, when we look back at the 2020s from a distance of a decade of more, whether we will be able to distinguish 2020 from 2021, and 2021 from 2022 or whether the years will all feel like a blur of covid years. I already find it difficult to work out which May or June, which lockdown, and which wave were which. Was it May this year or last that was so hot and sunny? Can it really be almost 2 years since I have been living life very differently. And the unspoken question – will life look any different this year?

Going into the new year after the wall-to-wall covid year, I am glad I have my three word mantra to distinguish the previous years. And I trust that this coming year will be characterised as much by the words which I have settled upon to guide me through whatever is thrown at us.

With the covid situation so protracted, I have found it a strange process this year to find that balance between aware of the unpredictability of times ahead, yet maintaining my focus on what is important and the priorities for the year. And the words which have come to me for 2022 are now ready to be shared. My three word mantra to guide and inspire me in the months ahead are:

Unfurl, forage and savour

Unfurl

As the Voldemort milestone retreats into the past (the number which cannot be said out loud, but in Scotland reaching this age gifts a bus pass), I am increasingly reminded that I do not want to spend my golden years working flat out. Moving to part time working has affirmed that, and whet my appetite for slowing down even more. My mother died on her 65^th birthday and as I approach that age, I want to step off the speeding roundabout and enjoy the benefit of having worked for the past 40 years, rather than work up to my last email breath.

Finding a word which captured this sense of “slowing down” was more difficult than I expected. Decelerate is too mechanical, slow doesn’t capture enough of what I want to convey and searching through dictionaries I discovered that many of the synonyms for slowing down had negative connotations. Such as lag behind, delay, impede, stall, setback, restrain … Which was very revealing about the world we live in and the value placed on rushing and speeding through life and work. Have we learned nothing from the pandemic and shifted priorities? And that made me all the more determined to find a word which would place value on slowness. 

The other dimension of slowing down which I wanted to aim towards this coming year, is that of becoming unbusy, and releasing the tension of recent months. After so long being tightly coiled, and as physical strength and capacity gradually reduces, I want to unwind in order to be able to live at a slower pace. Which brings in the perfect word – unfurl. I want to release and untighten from the stress and pressures of recent times, and slowly open like the promise of a new leaf, slowly unfurling, feeling the breeze as it reaches out towards the sun and the coming season. If I can unfurl, and embrace the rhythms of nature, this will allow a gentler, unhurried pace of life.

Forage

My second word is one which reflects an intentional approach to living, one where I consider carefully what I need, and one where I make the most of my surroundings in many senses. My second word is forage and it has meanings both very literal, and more figurative. Forage prompts me to look for wonders in front of me, under my feet and above my head. Forage  tells me that exploring is a wonderful way of living and reminds me of the times when I lived in places where the produce is seasonal and dependent on weather., and when I relied on using my creativity to use what was available, rather than what I thought I wanted. Forage reminds me that there is a great deal in my surroundings and I just need to open my eyes and my mind. Forage also reminds me not to be wasteful and to use and share what I have. 

In the less literal sense, forage reminds me to be observant and look out for those little treasures around me which hold so much potential to inspire creativity. And foraging is not limited to edibles, as I am surrounded by a lifetime of collectibles and memories which have stories to tell and seek a space to speak.

I look forward to discovering which paths foraging might take me on and what discoveries I might make.

Savour

My third word complements and travels comfortably alongside its two companions. As I unfurl and forage, I realise that I can enhance this if I make that effort to enjoy the slower pace and savour the simple things around me. To really savour flavours, sounds and sensations, it is important not to rush. Again, there are a wealth of interpretations from the very obvious senses of taste, and smell which we most immediately associate with savour, to the other senses. I can savour the music of birdsong by closing my eyes, and just listening. I can savour the sight of flowers welcoming bees as they go about their day’s work and I can savour memories which spring up unexpectedly by pausing and capturing them as they flitter by. 

The past years have especially shown us that life can change dramatically and drastically in a heartbeat. Covid and cancer have been clear examples. And that doesn’t diminish the challenges that come with an unwelcome development, which can be overwhelming and distressing. That is completely valid. But it does mean that we can accept what is, rather than what might be or should have been. And seek to focus on aspects around us that are there to savour.

And so my three word mantra for 2022 has taken shape. Savour reminds me to embrace what we too often consider small, ordinary and insignificant and this is so much more achievable when unfurled and living at a slower pace, and foraging with an inquisitive mind.

It is time to embrace 2022 with my three words as a constant, guiding companion. May 2022 be kindly, inspiring and healthy for us all.