Ode to the Sardine

I just had sardines on toast for lunch and they were so delicious. How long is it since you had that yumminess? I bought some nice tinned ones from Waitrose and they were in olive oil and lemon and all I did was add a little bit of garlic into the mix.

I used to have them with tomato sauce, but au natural is even better. I used to lather on butter, but the olive oil is enough. I also have a cold so the fishy factor may have been reduced.

But I enjoyed it so much I thought I'd write and say: treat yourself to a sardines on toast! Go on.

Choosing new patterns

Well after 6 months of trying to buy this flat, it looks like we are going to have to pull out of it. Too much is unclear and uncertain and it could end up costing us a lot of money. While on the one hand, I can see from a philosophical point of view that as one door closes another opens and that it obviously 'was not meant to be', I really could see us living there and I feel that my little dream is slipping away. Which it's not, but it feels like that, so I need to be sad about that for a little while.

The day we realised it probably wouldn't happen, I rushed onto the internet and immediately started trying to find somewhere else to at least go and look at. I wanted to fix it and make myself feel better. It was like the good old days when I got rejected by some utterly unsuitable guy and thought I'd missed my chance of being with (yet another) 'the one'.

I even got so far as making an appointment for a viewing which would have required me to traipse half way across London in the snow?! to get there while trying to recover from a massive cold that I've got from pushing myself too hard.

You'll be pleased to know I came to my senses and realised that I don't have to rush into looking again. I have decided to take a few weeks off looking and thinking of houses and will just let it go. If I feel inspired, I might start looking again. But until then, I am going to focus on the things I have a semblance of control over and be open to the possibility of the search being simple, loving and gentle (oh and quick and through non traditional as well as traditional channels), will relish in the chance to stick too metaphorical fingers up at the Real Estate guy who despite my best efforts at compassion I cannot stand, and while I'm at it, might even have a cup of tea.

Oh how liberating to find the lessons in the trials and tribulations we face.

A Gift of Gentleness

Here is a story for you, this Friday. I think it is a lovely reminder of how it costs nothing to transform a situation to one of peace, love and respect. Happy weekend my beloved readers, whoever and wherever you may be...


Once upon a time, a church had fallen upon hard times. Only five members were left: the pastor and four others, all over 60 years old.

In the mountains near the church there lived a retired Bishop. It occurred to the pastor to ask the Bishop if he could offer any advice that might save the church. The pastor and the Bishop spoke at length, but when asked for advice, the Bishop simply responded by saying, "I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is that the Messiah is one of you."

The pastor, returning to the church, told the church members what the Bishop had said. In the months that followed, the old church members pondered the words of the Bishop. "The Messiah is one of us?" they each asked themselves.

As they thought about this possibility, they all began to treat each other with extraordinary respect and gentleness on the off chance that one among them might be the Messiah. And on the off, off chance that each member himself might be the Messiah, they also began to treat themselves with extraordinary care.

As time went by, people visiting the church noticed the aura of respect and gentle kindness that surrounded the five old members of the small church. Hardly knowing why, more people began to come back to the church. They began to bring their friends, and their friends brought more friends. Within a few years, the small church had once again become a thriving church, thanks to the Bishop's gift.

Author Unknown

Home

Well after a crazy few weeks, I have come back to Londres for a holiday! And it feels like home. I've got some spicy sweet potato soup on the stove. I've got my Vika and Linda Bull CD playing. I've just eaten a few too many musk sticks. I've got up to date with my schedule for the next few weeks.

And I have been thinking about what it means to call a place home. Is it where you are from? Who is there? How you feel when you are there? A sense of place and community? Is it the earth beneath your feet? Is it a place?

I think it's different things to different people.

For me, it is a feeling of completeness, a feeling of safety and freedom, a feeling of belonging. For some reason, I feel that here in a way I never did in Australia. The wandering is over for me. I feel a wholeness. Maybe it's because the Love God is here, but I think it's more than that. It's in my bones. My roots are here. I could pack up tomorrow and move somewhere else, but right now I don't want to.

It was so lovely to meet up with some of the lovelies while down South. Not enough time, but enough to re connect with where they are at. Not enough time to really sit and chat. To talk about where we are on the spiritual path and all that. I know I must give up the chance to be part of their everyday and them being a part of mine. It's a hard call sometimes, it really is.

But I guess if we were all in one place, the love couldn't be spread around the world.

We need to skype more. We really do. I hope you know that I am here and with you in spirit when you need me there. I know it's not the same as sitting around the kitchen table with a cuppa. I feel I missed opportunities to ask better questions or to be 'there' more. But I was not in a relaxed place. I wasn't really myself. Somehow I ended up disconnecting from me when I was there. Maybe it was all the rushing around, maybe it was because of certain individuals, maybe it was the food, maybe it was the plane journey, maybe it was because I was tired before I left, maybe it was the culture shock. Who knows and it doesn't really matter why.

I wish you could be here with me in my place. I have so much to share, but somehow I couldn't find the connection to myself when I saw you. Sorry if you felt that. You're right, I am hard on myself sometimes. But I am learning to be kinder.

I love you and miss you already but at least it is less time til we see each other now than it was when we parted.

Your friend Beth