Little Rituals
Dear friend,
The powdery soft sweet smell of wisteria soothes the air with her scent. It’s reassuring to be surrounded by the luxury of apple and cherry blossom. Luxurious to me; essential to the fruit trees and honey bees and the finely tuned ecosystem to which we all belong.
Earlier this morning my friend Liviu came over with Julian, his son, and Eva the dachshund. Julian is a very talented young musician. We talked about the creative process and developed a piece of music based on a jazz progression he’s playing around with.
So many things that are obvious to someone in their fifties are eye-opening for a fourteen-year-old. It was nice to hang out and be creative together. He ended up creating a great piece of experimental music in the time we had, then I walked him to his bus back up the slow steady climb between Tottenham, through Seven Sisters and down from Stamford Hill into Stoke Newington.
It was a lot of fun.
I like working with teenagers.
Often people pull faces when the word teen arises. I don’t feel that way. It’s a time of transition and transformation for them. I think we can do a lot more to support our teens as they cross the threshold from a life they knew in childhood into their becoming. Julian silently asked himself a question and drew a myth card that spoke to him. You can feel the energy of the myth as it is spoken weaving connections within and between.
It’s wonderful.
I can hear my neighbour's dogs barking inside today and I feel for them. They sound like they are calling to be let out. I’m hoping they have enough water. It’s a hot April afternoon.
I perform the ritual of making a cup of tea, in one of Mam’s mugs, and settle in to write. Sometimes you hit a pause and there’s only the sounds and sights and sensations gathered by the senses, but I have no concerns about running out of thoughts to move my fingers on the keys. Why then do we hold on to ideas about ourselves that no longer serve us?
The false self will construct a person out of our experiences, thoughts and judgements we make against ourselves.
We’ll attach to feelings as if they are us.
Experiencing shame turns into a shameful identity.
But the events that happen in our lives are not us.
We are the space in which everything happens.
Realising it, even for a moment, you can look with loving compassion and let whatever shows up, be what it is.
Itself.
A passing emotion. A fleeting idea. A shock.
A pleasure or slip up.
Not you.
You and me, we are the space in which it’s all showing up.
A neighbour to the right of the garden has plugged in their electric lawn mower. The engine sounds underpowered, at least struggling with the terrain, as the dogs fall silent.
We cross many thresholds.
The inner world to the outer and back again.
Little rituals can anchor us in the moment.
Bringing comfort and cheer.
Stillness and connection.
To that place inside that feels like home.
Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey