You are a child of the universe…

Cream teas are becoming a thing of magic for me… In the last month I believe I have enjoyed more delicious scones laden with ‘extra cream please’ and jam, than in the last few years!

They seem to have a celebratory quality, and ooze generosity of spirit and fun with each extra dollop of clotted cream… Yesterday was a cream tea day as Jane and I were meeting for  an early barefoot birthday tea… It was delightful to be served our pots of tea and scones cream and jam in the huge – all to ourselves – sumptuous, ‘Coat of arms’ room at Buxted park…

We had a wonderful time, and it seems her birthday is set to run and run, there didn’t seem to be an end date… Hurrah for that, for celebrating ourselves and our time here on earth…

Life a celebration!

It is important that we join together in celebration of one another; and birthdays are a chance to welcome anew, to support one another on this earthly journey, to affirm our presence is appreciated, that we are loved, that – as is written in ‘Desiderata’, ‘we have a right to be here’…

‘…You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should….’

I had spent the morning in the ‘Coat of arms room’ too, catching up with my friend Ange… She has generously pledged, through her charity Espoire – which she runs with her daughters Pru and Ruby – to match any monies raised for my ‘Barefoot Across Spain’ run… She was saying that she is keen to train to run one section with me… How brilliant!

‘I keep having flashes of seeing me running into Almuñecar ‘ I said… ‘Yes…’ she smiled ‘I can see it too…’

And I can see it, the image comes in unbidden, because it is happening now; but the fun of this journey is that in the now, we plan for an imagined future, and we learn how to do this from a past that never happened… And when we do this consciously in the here and now, the steps reveal themselves like a painting being drawn by an artist or a book being written by its author…

The two collude and collaborate; the characters in the book decide their own path; and the painting paints itself in each brush stroke… We are all a hologram – we are both the encoded material and the resulting image – we are all parts, the painter, the writer, and the characters in the book… The figures on the canvas…

And so we breathe and find the still point at the bottom of the breath, we notice the turn at the top and in that space we find ourselves; and all that is….