Christmas with Friends

 

My Christmas was one in which I was loved, and supported, and given the time and space to be alone to read and reflect. I stayed at Maresfield Lodge in Hampstead, where an old schoolfriend (known her since we were 11) has lived for over 50 years. 

The Entrance Hall set the stage for the best Christmas I've had in years.

At first, Alf settled in extremely well. His crate was given a cosy corner in the kitchen and he treated it as his den, somewhere he felt safe.

He met one tankful of fish that is in the lounge - a space used for watching TV and informal socialising. He lost interest when the light in the tank was off.

Christmas Eve began with lighting the Advent candles and placng the baby in the Nativity scene, while singing Gaudete. I haven't done that for decades - it was wonderful. 

Christmas Eve meal was traditional - the fish was lovely seabass. 

Alf had a little taste. He thinks it was one of the fishes he'd greeted earlier in the  day.                              

An entry in Marie's Blog noted Ship’s Dog Alf and Cabin Girl Pat piped on board  and  settle  in  cabins.  Gaudete sang at dusk before the crib. 

Alf slept happily on the sofa behind the Christmas Table until corks were popped and crackers pulled on Christmas Day. That was the beginning of his anxiety of being in the house.

We'd been askked not to bring gifts to the Christmas table, but readings or poems instead. My contribution on Christmas Day was mentioned in Marie's Blog 

Only two disasters at Christmas lunch  this  year!  First,  decided  to  go for  walk  in  Regents  Park, so  timed oven to switch on while we were out. Didn’t work so dinner time half hour late. Not so bad.Cabin Girl had provided fizz. Ship’s Chandler opend same with great care but it fountained everywhere. Know not why. Anyhow, still enjoyed with bird . Great anxiety about pud as oats added  instead  of  flour. Chandler read passage from Christmas Carol where Mrs Cratchit is fretting about pud to sooth nerves. All ship’s crew were generous in praise of galley slave, so no more worries. Excellent  readings  from  all  crew. Cabin Girl’s excellent contribution is this week’s poem for ye all to enjoy.

How the Light Comes by Jan Richardson.

I cannot tell you

how the light comes.

What I know

is that it is more ancient

than imagining.

That it travels

across an astounding expanse

to reach us.

That it loves

searching out what is hidden,

what is lost,

what is forgotten

or in peril

or in pain.

That it has a fondness

for the body,

for finding its way

toward flesh,

for tracing the edges

of form,

for shining forth

through the eye,

the hand,

the heart.

I cannot tell you

how the light comes,

but that it does.

That it will.

That it works its way

into the deepest dark

that enfolds you,

though it may seem

long ages in coming

or arrive in a shape you did not foresee.

And so

may we this day

turn ourselves toward it.

May we lift our faces

to let it find us.

May we bend our bodies

to follow the arc it makes.

May we open

and open more

and open still

to the blessed light

that comes.

Christmas Day meal

The Christmas Candle was lit, the wine flowed, and the conversation ranged over past decades and present concerns. For me, it was light years' away from the lonely Christmas Day of 2019/2020.

After just one glass of a rather lovely Champagne, I slept until almost 11am on Boxing Day. Marie's Blog for the day noted.

Ship’s Dog had early morning tour of the Analytic moorings round and about. The Tavistock with wonderful statue of Freud( Not to be peed on), The Institute of Group Analysis, The Jungian  Association,  etc  etc.  Ship’s Dog fascinated by everything. 

Boxing Day was very laid back. I am reading "When your Soulmate Dies" by Alan D. Wolfell. I showed it to Tony (another old friend from childhood) who lost his Partner just last week.  He was offered, but declined, counselling support, and said he was alright. Ann had been suffering from Altzheimers for two years and had been in a nursing home. Tony said he had already lost her before she died. We agreed that we were grieving in different ways, and I know that Tony has family and close friends where he lives in Manchester. I, on the other hand,  am travelling from grief, to mourning. 

The book is full of words that are helping me through the next part of my journey. Your heart has been broken in two by the death of your soulmate. Through mouring, you are working on stitching it back together. 

A great deal of healing and progress was made in the short time I spent with friends at Maresfield Lodge. They allowed me the time and space to read and reflect, as well as join in with traditional rituals. Knowing I am an atheist, their generosity and open-heartedness welcomed me. They are wholehearted people.

Your goal is wholeheartedness. Wholehearted people develop the skills of living in the moment and positivity. They find beauty and meaning in the imperfection of humanity doing and being and loving the best it can. from When your Soulmate Dies" by Alan D. Wolfell. 

Marie's Blog concluded yesterday Speeding  on  through  week.  Sadly Cabin Girl and Ship’s Dog sailed away in massive cruiser back to the most noble town of Hitchin. 

Marie and Marie wish to return to Hitchin to see places that were closed the last time they visited me (It was a Thursday and Covid has affected the opening of many public venues, including the Church.) Hopefully, that will happen before our planned Retreat to Southwold in March. 

Winter Solstice Tea

 

 

I had a lovely day today, culminating in a festive tea with friends, in the Garden Room.

There were savoury snacks, a bottle of Valdo Oro Puro Prosecco, and sweet treats, accompanied by much talk, laughter, and friendship.

I read both Solstice poems and we exhanged gifts and hugs as we bade each other a happy Christmas and healthy New Year,

The Garden Room is a lovely, big room, easily aired (especially when Alf demands to go out to kill the birds and squirrel who dare invade his territory).

Before this, I had a visit from another friend who had decided not to stay for tea as she had been in London at the weekend celebrating her Golden Anniversary. My friends are so thoughtful and take care that I am not put at unnecessary risk.

Earlier in the day, I went into town to purchase a joint of pork for Boxing Day, which I am spending with friends. The town was quiet and I didn't have to queue at the butcher's in Market Square. 

There was a trumpeter entertaining shoppers with some very accomplished jazzy versions of Christmas Carols. I marvelled at how he kept his trumpet in tune in the cold, damp weather.

This evening, I lit the yule fire and settled down for some seasonal viewing, after a dinner of boeuf bourguignon and rice, courtesy of Mr Waitrose's Christmas delivery.

My table is groaning under the weight of cards and presents I have received so far. I suspect that there will be no more cards delivered before Christmas, due to staff shortage. 

Welcome Yule. 

Preparations for the Winter Solstice

Finished the preparations for the Solstice tomorrow. I have lighted the candles, 

hung the evergreen, and the fire is ever-ready.

The Shortest Day by Susan Cooper

And so the Shortest Day came and the year died

And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world

Came people singing, dancing,

To drive the dark away.

They lighted candles in the winter trees;

They hung their homes with evergreen;

They burned beseeching fires all night long

To keep the year alive.

And when the new year’s sunshine blazed awake

They shouted, reveling.

Through all the frosty ages you can hear them

Echoing behind us—listen!

All the long echoes, sing the same delight,

This Shortest Day,

As promise wakens in the sleeping land:

They carol, feast, give thanks,

And dearly love their friends,

And hope for peace.

And now so do we, here, now,

This year and every year.

Welcome, Yule!

There will be much revelling tomorrow afternoon.

Larking

 

I've always loved the photo of Eamonn beachcombing and am keen to get started on an acrylics painting of it. As I worked with the digital images, I reflected on the hundreds of hours we spent on Southwold (and other) beach(es), slowly wandering in companionable silence, both searching for something interesting. For me, hagstones and small pieces of Amber were the prizes sought. Eamonn had other priorities

It was a coincidence that I happened upon this book, A Field Guide to Larking. Larking. Is that what we'd been doing? I know we both found the pastime enjoyable, but don't think either of us would class it as Larking. 

Having a Lark smacks too much of pranks or fun, that thing that Terry Pratchett described as "Fun. What is it good for?  It’s not pleasure, joy, delight, enjoyment or glee. It’s a hollow, cruel, vicious little bastard, a word for something sought with an hilarious couple of wobbly antennae on your head and the words‘I want It!’ on your shirt, and it tends to leave you waking up with your face stuck to the street".

Anyway, I was intrigued by the title of the book and impressed by the reviews. I'm looking forward to reading the book as I work on the painting. 

Antidote to grief

 

as always, is gratitude.

I looked at the garden this morning, and saw that there were some autumn flowers still struggling through, despite the approaching darkness of mid-winter. The first, is the tall verbena bonariensis. It's surrounded by winter colour of the berries of the vibernum, the dark stems of sedum, and the variegated leaves of the shrub whose name I have mislaid.

Below that, the scabious is flowering, as it has done since late summer.

It has been a very mild day today, with some lovely winter sunshine. But I am reminded that colder weather is on its way and there will be little natural food for the birds in the garden. It was the matter of minutes to set up the Bird Feeding station, 

and replenish the bird house with dried mealy worms. As I was doing that, I noticed that the Viburnum Bodnantense Dawn can be seen flowering behind, on bare stalks. She will continue to do so until next Spring, when leaves will replace the sweet scented blooms. 

The skies darkened and a chill descended, reminding me of the approaching season of mid-winter

Despite the gloom of long, dark days, and the continuous bad news about the Pandemic, there is much for which I am grateful. Yesterday's arrival of a Winter Music, snow globe, plays Deck the Halls (among other carols). It will soon be time to deck the halls to celebrate the Winter Solstice with a few friends.

How the Light Comes by Jan Richardson

 

 

I cannot tell you

how the light comes.

What I know

is that it is more ancient

than imagining.

That it travels

across an astounding expanse

to reach us.

That it loves

searching out

what is hidden,

what is lost,

what is forgotten

or in peril

or in pain.

That it has a fondness

for the body,

for finding its way

toward flesh,

for tracing the edges

of form,

for shining forth

through the eye,

the hand,

the heart.

I cannot tell you

how the light comes,

but that it does.

That it will.

That it works its way

into the deepest dark

that enfolds you,

though it may seem

long ages in coming

or arrive in a shape

you did not foresee.

And so

may we this day

turn ourselves toward it.

May we lift our faces

to let it find us.

May we bend our bodies

to follow the arc it makes.

May we open

and open more

and open still

to the blessed light

that comes.

more quotes

 

Over time and with the support of others, it is mourning that will soften your grief and help you find renewed meaning in life. To mourn is to heal.

  A relationship built on near-constant companionship can’t help but leave the surviving person in a deep void when one soulmate dies. The surviving soulmate is confronted with the physical reality of the loss nearly constantly. When you have grown accustomed to orbiting every day around someone whose company you enjoy and have grown to depend on—and suddenly that person is gone—your minute-by-minute existence is thrown into disarray. You have not only lost your best friend and confidant, you may also have lost your breakfast companion, your laundry partner, your sous chef, your walking buddy, your TV-watching sidekick, and your bedwarmer in one fell swoop—and this is to mention just a few of the myriad facets of daily presence you may now be missing."

Sense of Humour. To spend your days in companionship with someonej who loves to laugh, make you laugh, and just have fun is a gift of the highest order. To have that gift taken away must then also be a loss of the highest order.

Vulnerability Soulmates open themselves to one another. Seeing the awesome possibilities enabled by the trust we discussed above, they let down their guards and allow their partners to see them as they are, in all their glory and all their faults. Any initial insecurities, vanity, or posturing they may have brought to the relationship are usually dropped over time. The ego, which worries about false things like appearances, status, and being right, fades into the background, and the soul, which is concerned with truths such as the timeless spirit, the beauty of existence, joy, and love, comes to the fore.

Kindness. When a thousand daily kindnesses are suddenly revoked by death, what happens? The surviving soulmate is no longer attended to and cared for in the same way. It can leave you feeling like the sun got turned off—cold and lost in the dark.

A true soulmate is probably the most important person you will ever meet, because they tear down your walls and shake you awake.

 

You and I have memories, longer than the road that stretches out ahead

Longevity many soulmates seem to get closer and closer as they grow older together. Quite a few soulmates have told me that their years and experiences together are what allowed them to transform into soulmates. They seem to find a “together rhythm,” especially, for those who are also parents, after their children have grown and left home.

Soulmates are often partners who learn to weather adversity as a team. Life is replete with loss, and soulmates join to hold each other up and persevere in the face of challenges such as illness, job loss, financial straits, aging, legal troubles, relocation, crises of faith, childrearing, and, of course, the death of loved ones.

Soulmates try to put their relationship needs above their own individual needs. While they do not lose their individuality to the relationship, they tend to subordinate personal desires that may conflict with the shared goals of the relationship. They compromise and sacrifice, but they do so in the hopes that their investment will pay off a hundredfold in the form of shared joy and meaning. Soulmates put their partner’s needs above their own individual needs as well sometimes.

Adventure Not all soulmates are adventurers in the risk-taking, traveler sense of the word. Sure, some couples literally climb mountains, sail seas, and explore foreign lands. Those who do definitely express their mutual passion for life through physical and geographical exploits.

Yet soulmates whose sense of adventure runs more to the everyday often feel just as united in their passion for life. Soulmates often try new things together. They make room for each other to grow and change. They revel in the day ahead and big and small adventures to come. They also tend to enjoy reminiscing together about shared past adventures. Soulmates seem to look at life this way: We don’t know what’s going to happen next, but whatever it is, we will face it head on with as much honesty and joy as possible—together.

Ritual Soulmates typically share and enjoy many day-to-day activities. What to non-soulmates may feel like neutral or even boring tasks-such as morning coffee or a daily walk—to soulmates may feel like sacred rituals. They can imbue even the most mundane routines with a sense of specialness and privilege (more on that next). Their capacity for presence elevates the everyday to the exceptional, and the exceptional to the extraordinary. Soulmates intuit the power of ritual and tend to harness it more often to express and honor their special love.

Gratitude Soulmates seem to appreciate their good fortune. They move through life together aware that not all relationships enjoy the attributes we’ve been talking about in this chapter. Rather than feeling smug, however, they feel lucky.

The concepts of privilege and gratitude are related closely to honoring. If you feel grateful for something, you honor it. You regard it with great respect. You hold it in high esteem. Soulmates hold each other in high esteem. They regard each other with respect. They honor one another in life, and the survivor continues to honor the partner who died after his or her death.

I've heard it said

That people come into our lives for a reason

Bringing something we must learn

And we are led

To those who help us most to grow

If we let them

And we help them in return

Well, I don't know if I believe that's true

But I know I'm who I am today

Because I knew you

Like a comet pulled from orbit

As it passes a sun

Like a stream that meets a boulder

Halfway through the wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But

Because I knew you

I have been changed for good

It well may be

That we will never meet again

In this lifetime

So let me say before we part

So much of me

Is made of what I learned from you

You'll be with me

Like a handprint on my heart

And now whatever way our stories end

I know you have re-written mine

By being my friend

Like a ship blown from its mooring

By a wind off the sea

Like a seed dropped by a skybird

In a distant wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But

Because I knew you

Because I knew you

I have been changed for good

And just to clear the air

I ask forgiveness

For the things I've done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know there's blame to share

And none of it seems to matter anymore

Like a comet pulled from orbit (like a ship blown from its mooring)

As it passes a sun (by a wind off the sea)

Like a stream that meets a boulder (like a seed dropped by a bird)

Halfway through the wood (in the wood)

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

I do believe I have been changed for the better

And because I knew you

Because I knew you

Because I knew you

I have been changed

For good

For Good" Wicked

Stephen Schwartz

Loneliness

 

This poem sent by an old school friend

For Loneliness by John O’Donohue 

When the light lessens 

Causing colours to loose their courage, 

And your eyes fix on the empty distance 

That can open up on either side 

Of the surer line 

To make all that is  

Familiar and near 

Seem suddenly foreign, 

 

When the old ghosts come back 

To feed on everywhere you felt sure, 

Do not strengthen their hunger 

By choosing fear; 

Rather, decide to call on your heart 

That it may grow clear and free 

To welcome home your emptiness 

That it may cleanse you 

Like the clearest air you could ever 

breathe. 

 

Cradle yourself like a child 

Learning to trust what emerges, 

So that gradually you may know 

That deep in that black hole 

You will find the blue flower 

That holds the mystical light 

Which will illuminate in you 

The glimmer of springtime

sense of humour soulmates

 

Sense of Humour. To spend your days in companionship with someone who loves to laugh, make you laugh, and just have fun is a gift of the highest order. To have that gift taken away must then also be a loss of the highest order.

Soulmate - reflections

 

A true soulmate is a mirror… A soulmate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit…break your heart open so new light can get in.

The loss of a soulmate, though not sudden or unexpected, is overpowering and much harder to process. It has turned my life completely upside down in so many ways that I cannot even begin to describe.

Beginning watercolour

 

Having realised that James' watercolour classes were too advanced for me, I signed up for a four-week  Introduction to Watercolour at the Settlement. 

The first class focussed on mixing primary colours to create more shades. The first colour-combination was red and yellow. After we'd all experimented for a while, and most people had covered their paper, we set them out on one of the tables. 

The thing that struck me, immediately, was that, not only had everyone else covered their paper, they'd painted rectangles, just like the colour charts that come with paint sets.

The same thing happened with red and blue. I was concentrating so hard to make the purple shade of my winter wool coat, that the tutor, Kate, gave me a brighter shade of blue to help with the quest. 

All my shades were even more splodge-like, rather than rectangles, and there were far fewer splodges than other people's rectangles.

I decided that the other class members had probably done this before. The man working across the table from me even had his rows organised like paint charts in DIY stores. I asked him if he was an engineer and he replied 'no, a builder.' It was then that I recognised him as the builder who had converted the garage into Eamonn's study, and the side passage between house and garage into a wet room and utility room, in 1984. Robin remembered Eamonn, the Headmaster, who had subsequently hired him to do some building work at QE. Small world.

After tea break, we were given leaves to paint. My first attempt was going well until Kate recommended adding a certain shade. I then 'overworked it'. With 15 minutes left, she gave me a small red leaf. The quick work on that is much more pleasing, in my opinion.

I've been practicing with leaves over the past two days. I think these are not bad.

Watercolour is much harder than working with acrylics. Once a colour is dry, it is very difficult to change things.

Fatigue and bereavement

From "How to Deal With Grief If You're Exhausted"

Grief and exhaustion go hand in hand. The grieving process can use up incredible amounts of energy and may also leave you exhausted beyond belief. Sometimes, it may feel as if you can barely keep your head above water to face the reality of your loss.

Every breath you take can seem like your drowning in sorrow, but you’re too tired to react. You feel immobilized and unable to take any action - even when necessary. Trying to cope with grief when you're exhausted can be debilitating. However, it is good to know that chronic fatigue is a common and natural response to profound sorrow. Every day can feel like a new wave of pain hitting you like a ton of bricks. Grief is incredibly draining on you mentally, physically, and emotionally.

The physical and mental effects of grief are so overpowering at points that it can be hard to function even in day-to-day life. The emotional ups and downs that you’ll experience, coupled with lack of sleep and an erratic eating schedule can all contribute to feeling tired and unable to function at your normal levels. Finding ways to balance your grief responses with proper rest is crucial as you try to deal with your loss.

Taking things day by day will help you to take control of your life sooner rather than later. Whenever a person who’s grieving tries to take on too much way too soon, they’re left feeling defeated and out of control. One of the best ways to handle the debilitating exhaustion resulting from grief is to go slow and not try to do too much.

Permit yourself to slack on the everyday chores and routines. Only do as much as you want and feel able to. No one should be keeping score of what you’re accomplishing each day. And, indeed, you shouldn’t be competing against yourself.  

Rest and sleep are two very different things. Aim for getting rest throughout the day, even when you’re not sleepy. Resting both the mind and body will help you to feel less stressed and more refreshed. 

For the Queen, her Faith is a great comfort and guide. Despite the fact that she is surrounded by family and friends who can comfort her, ultimately, like the rest of us, she is alone in her grieving. However, she is driven by duty, and the promise she made on her 21st birthday,

I declare before you all that my whole life whether it be long or short shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great imperial family to which we all belong,

drives her actions

I cannot begin to imagine how painful it must be for Queen Elizabeth. Her grief is public and she is stubbornly trying to carry on as normal, to the detriment of her physical health. 

Art class

 

I managed to take part in the whole of the Drawing for Beginners' Zoom session this morning. It was all about different sorts of shading. 

I found it a bit tricky and managed to get the proportion of the largest arch all wrong. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the session and learned a lot.

At the end of the session, James showed us some of the drawings he'd done in preparation for a new painting.

They showed how shading can be used in monocrome as a guide to the colour version.

After lunch, I had another painting session, trying to get the colours on the flag right and adjusting the shading on the sea. There is a lot more to be done, and I hope to adjust the sky at some point.

Progress, Beachcombing Couple