Goodie Two Shoes (Not)

Dear friend,

I bumped into someone I’ve known socially for a while. As you get on in life, ‘a while’ can easily mean twenty-plus years. She runs a vintage store and venue in London.

“How’s business?” I asked. She told me people are buying less.

“Where they’d once buy three items, now they come in and maybe buy one,” she said.

It’s very much in the air—

Uncertainty.
Doubt.
Destabilisation.

The craziness thrust before us. The wilder it gets outside, the shakier we can feel inside—and that sets up a feedback loop.

Many are living in a state of chronic, low-level anxiety. It narrows the mind, hardens the heart. It’s easy to understand why.

When there’s a threat, our bodies do what they’ve evolved to do: survive.
But we’re often facing dangers that feel beyond our individual control.
We tighten up.

But what if we did the opposite? What if we softened?

Spiritual practices aren’t confined to churches, temples, mosques, or synagogues. You don’t have to believe in anything beyond what your senses perceive.

To be consistently kind—to yourself, to others—is already a spiritual path.

A little quiet reflection? Essential in this upside-down, inside-out, rapidly changing world.

Knitting.
Crochet.
Crafting.
Gardening.
Walking in nature.

All of these can be spiritual practices when seen through the lens of presence.

So too are the small gestures:
A dance. A concert.
Saying hello to a neighbour.
Holding a door.
Cooking fresh food.
Sending a thank-you note.
Calling someone just to connect.

From this view, we’re all living spiritual lives. And behind it all is the peace that passeth understanding.

That sense of being at home.
Of inhabiting ourselves fully, even if only for a moment.

Half the garden is in sunlight. Half in shade.

Zara has been very clear in her communication this morning—standing at the lead, catching my eye, doing the timeless dog routine: in, out, back in again.

My friend Marc’s old online profile used to read: “owned by dog.”
It still makes me smile.

Humour, for me, is the canary in the coal mine.
When my sense of humour goes missing, it’s a sure sign I’m off balance.

So—what to do?

Any of the above.
Or something that nourishes you spiritually.

This morning, for me, it was the coo of a solitary wood pigeon.
Now, it’s the buzz of a bee.
And the breath in my body.

Tension is part of being human. The body is an orchestra of energies, not all of them in harmony. At times, it’s all storm and static.

So if you’re in that place now—what’s one thing, just one, that might feel even a little better?

You’re allowed to turn your attention toward peace.

You’re allowed to step gently toward your spiritual centre.

What would happen if you took ten minutes today, just to sit and breathe?

I used to think being spiritual meant being a goody two-shoes.
Now I know better.

There are as many ways to be spiritual as there are beings.

Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey