I enjoyed watching ‘Stargazing Live’ on the BBC recently. Lots of fabulously mysterious and glistening information about stars and planets and the solar system etc. Especially liked it when Dr Brian Cox used items on a table in a tea shop to explain some of the details! One of Brian’s great heroes is Carl Sagan. If you haven’t seen Sagan’s wonderful video ‘Pale Blue Dot’ click here.

Podcasts.ie kindly recorded me reading from ‘The Truth Club’ a while ago. It was recorded in my sitting room by a snug turf fire. If you are in the mood for being read to click here The Truth Club.

Heard a woman on ‘The Mooney Show’ on RTE talking about how she goes to bed with her pet pig…that pig sounds so cute and apparently “smells like a baby” after she’s been washed. Didn’t catch the woman’s name. Am very fond of pigs myself. A pig called Rosie is an important character in ‘Ordinary Miracles’ and is something of a role model for some of the humans.

If I lived in London would definitely want to visit fabulous exhibition by David Hockney. Hockney seems like a very life affirming fellow. Love his use of colour and the wonderfully characterful paintings he did of his pet dachshunds. I once worked for a publishing house in London that published fabulous art books…along with other books of course. When I climbed the many stairs to my office…the building was old and pleasant and in Bloomsbury…I sometimes used to hear David Hockney’s voice drifting intriguingly from a room. Someone was transcribing a long tape-recorded interview for a book. The company was very near the British Museum and a nice little bookshop. It was there that I found and bought some of the Winnie-The-Pooh books by A. A. Milne. When I was a wee girl the only Winnie-The-Pooh book in the house had a number of its pages missing so I wasn’t that impressed by it. I understood why he was such a popular bear when I read the rest of the pages! Haven’t re-read ‘The Wind In The Willows’ by Kenneth Grahame for a while. It is still one of my favourite books.

Bright blessings,

Grace x

The Truth Club
‘…a novel which by turns had me laughing (aloud) entranced and, by the end a little bit wiser than I was at the beginning. In ‘The Truth Club’ Grace Wynne-Jones has produced a book in which the eclectic characters almost leap from the pages…the book also contains a perfect man, Nathaniel, who ‘almost always’ says the right thing….’

We had yet another budget in Ireland this week. If you turn on the radio the odds of hearing the words “bankers”, “billions”, “debt”, “Eurozone” and “markets” are even more likely than before. Added to this, of course, is now the word “Christmas”. “It’s Christmas so…” many ads say. My favourite slogan of the year is ‘What would Jesus do?’

It has been pretty cold here lately. Lit a big turf fire the other day. Very toasty and cosy. Have become extremely fond of watching people buy antiques on television. Big bunch of reduced price flowers on mantelpiece and large lit candle in fireplace. A smallish statue of Buddha sits nearby with a little smile.

Love, sparkles and light,

Grace

Have only made some brief visits to Paris myself. In my teens, when visiting a boyfriend in France, spent a night in the waiting room of the Gare du Nord. Was awoken by a young man saying “Give me fire”. Realised he wanted me to light his cigarette. Was catching a train very early the next day. A station official asked me and another young woman to come into his office…we were somewhat doubtful about this until he gave us both a glass of Pastis. The last time I visited France I traveled home to Ireland via England. My trip on Eurostar was vastly enlivened by getting into conversation with a very pleasant young French man who told me about his large collection of spiders…I think he even had some in his luggage!

Happy Halloween and warm wishes,

Grace

Oh yes, I could write a minor thesis on this stuff and yet there I was on Saturday night watching the thing again and knowing that I would have conversations about it. When I sat down to write this blog I felt there were so many other more worthwhile topics to explore…the important ‘We are the 99%’ demonstrations in America comes to me as a worthy example. ‘The Club Of Rome’ and their explorations into sustainability and economic growth. Since I’m a writer some ‘writing tips’ might be appropriate. I wanted the X Factor juggernaut to zoom by me. (When it comes to vehicles one of my favourites is the Morris Minor.)

But now I have some sort of opinion about the contestants and the judges seem sort of okay though Gary Barlow can be a bit snitty. Even complaining about the thing is sort of entertaining. Maybe one of the attractions of X is that it insists that it is so important but in the grand scheme of things it’s just another tv show with a very clever format. Maybe we sometimes need ‘serious’ frivolities. Compared to trying to understand what the bankers are up to it is pretty straightforward.

Thank God for less guilty pleasures! Got Jonathan Franzen’s ‘Freedom’ out of the library. Great stuff. Sometimes silence is indeed very golden.

Warm wishes,

Grace

IRISH WRITERS’ CENTRE WORKSHOPS

THE WRITING PROCESS with Grace Wynne-Jones

14th October – 18th November 2011: Fridays 11am-1pm. €165/€150 members
If you want to book a place contact the Irish Writers’ Centre,
19 Parnell Square, Dublin 1 T: 01 872 1302 E: info@writerscentre.ie W: www.writerscentre.ie

‘I am a forty eight year old woman who loves books and I have read zillions in my life. My husband has never heard me laugh out loud as much or cried as I read “Ready or not”. It was a fabulous read and I am now an avid fan of yours. So sad when the book ended but ready for the next one. Wonderful and beautifully written.’ Website Comment from ‘Therese’

When I give writing workshops I advise the participants to ‘cherish the details’. Small or large details (such as the corrugated boiler flue) can make a story seem more real.  The very things that seem too unimportant to mention may be the details that help bring a story to life. Another message in the workshops is that creative writing is an important and valid activity in itself. It can be therapeutic…a healing  ’place to go to’.  A wonderful place to explore thoughts and feelings and dreams and questions. It can also be very entertaining. An adventure. Getting published is a wonderful bonus.

Went blackberrying today. A nice little autumn ritual.

Warm wishes,

Grace

IRISH WRITERS’ CENTRE WORKSHOPS

THE WRITING PROCESS with Grace Wynne-Jones

7th October – 11th November 2011: Fridays 11am-1pm. €165/€150 members
If you want to book a place contact the Irish Writers’ Centre,
19 Parnell Square, Dublin 1 T: 01 872 1302 E: info@writerscentre.ie W: www.writerscentre.ie

These are playful, fun workshops that will empower your inner author and help you identify what furthers your own writing process. The workshops run over six weeks and include practical tips on handling your inner critic, experimenting with story ‘nudges’, plot, and character development and how not to be intimidated by technique.

Stories are also written during the sessions and shared in a supportive and encouraging atmosphere. You will also receive input on marketing your work. Writing is an adventure! If you enjoy a good story, you can write one! Whether you’ve been writing a while, or are just starting out, this course is suitable for anyone with an interest in writing fiction. Facilitator Grace Wynne-Jones.

Warm wishes,

Grace

Each outing to Limerick ended up with a family assemblage in that august hotel which, as far as I knew, was not unlike the Ritz. My maternal grandmother, a Mrs de Vere who had lived in a grand house called Curragh Chase outside Adare, had also used the hotel in similar circumstances. So my mother had a somewhat proprietorial attitude towards its lounge and often loudly called out things like “did you get the bones for the dogs?” to my Dad as he stepped through the hotel’s front door. Yes, we almost regarded the lounge of the hotel as an urban extension of our sitting room and we very much needed its shelter. Our trips to Limerick tended to be packed with activity. Mum often went off shopping on her own. And Dad and I…well we got up to stuff. We had places to go people to meet and bones to acquire.

I was very keen to get to the SPCK bookshop which, along with worthy religious books, stocked fabulous reads such as ‘Wish For A Pony’ by Ruby Ferguson. But Dad was a Co. Limerick clergyman and sometimes met acquaintances as we strolled, like boulevardiers, along the great Limerick streets. His chats with these adults seemed to go on for ages. Sometimes I gave him a very light kick on the shin to hurry him up, but he just replied calmly “Grace, why are you kicking me?” This was a very canny adult manoeuvre and showed he had learned much from his years as a teacher. Thankfully the conversations couldn’t go on for too long because we had to do our errands and get back to the Royal George Hotel at the appointed time. We had to return big hardbound books the library and select new ones and linger in the SPCK bookshop and do stuff on the list.The list was an important part of our trips to Limerick.

I knew that out there in the teaming streets my mother would, at some stage, buy her favourite cake which was square and covered in white icing and brown iced boxes, each containing a glace cherry or a walnut. It would be placed in a cardboard cake box and eaten when we got home. This was another Limerick ritual though I don’t seem to remember where the cake came from. Was I ever with her when she bought it? It is a mystery that adds to the allure of those long ago afternoons.

Bolgers, Nesbitts tobacconists, the Savoy Cinema…these were all great names in the Limerick pantheon. And of course there was Cruises Hotel too but that wasn’t our hotel. In fact as far as I recall I didn’t enter it until I was in my late teens and looked around it as if it had once been forbidden territory. Of course there was also Jurys but that had a transatlantic feel about it and looked very modern…as though it could be anywhere. No, it was the Royal George that played a pivotal part in our Limerick afternoons and we were loyal to it. It had impressive revolving doors, the waiters were attentive and the tea cups clinked daintily. My father could not do without tea for extended periods, so in some ways our relieved sprawls on its capacious seats were not just pleasant but necessary.

For soon we would have to gather ourselves to make the careful car trip home with cake, books and bones stored in bags on the back seat. Leaving the bright lights big city afternoon for a small rural village. Feeling satisfied and tired and strangely replete.

Warm wishes,

Grace

Wrote an article about the joys of crafting quite a while ago and the other day remembered how I did quite a bit of knitting when I was younger. I remember bringing a large partly knitted sleeveless jacket kind of thing with me when I traveled to Africa. It required a complicated stitch and vaguely resembled a sheepskin rug (the wool was cream coloured). I nearly finished it and then realised I would never wear it. It was strange enough to fit quite nicely into a modern art installation. Still, I probably enjoyed the click click click of those needles. Heaven knows where I found the pattern.

When I was an au pair in Switzerland in my mid teens the nice lady I was staying with was a very keen knitter. We spent loads of time by Lake Geneva with her kids and she often brought her knitting with her. I seem to recall she was constructing some kind of poncho and it looked fab. She whizzed through those stitches like a pro. Because of this I decided I would knit a jumper. It was to be long and black and sophisticated. Sitting by Lake Geneva for many hours most days was very nice but the lovely weather did not seem to induce a wish to knit…in me anyway. Madame P.’s poncho grew at a great rate. I decided that my jumper didn’t have to be that long…and then I decided it didn’t require sleeves either. I added a purple edge to parts of it and it was actually quite nice. I had it for years and enjoyed saying “Yes, I knitted this myself”.

When staying with relatives in Swaziland I got into crochet. I don’t think I crocheted anything in particular. One of the nice things about crochet is that you can make little coloured squares very quickly, even if you don’t know what you’re going to do with them.

In some ways it’s amazing I wasn’t put off knitting completely at primary school. Us kids were asked to knit…socks. Even at that tender age I presumed that socks would be things I would buy. The teacher was critical of the heel I’d knitted. I had to rip it up and start again. This may have happened more than once. The demoralised sock remained unfinished. It was a pleasant blue colour. (That seemingly pointless sock knitting experience snuck into ‘Ordinary Miracles’. Yippee. I found a use for that sock after all.)

As a wee girl I had a nice little knitting set. I think it was in some kind of basket. I may have tried to knit stuff for dolls and teddies but I was far more interested in scampering around outside and playing in the river and climbing the big old oak tree. I liked the look of the knitting set though. And later, when I got into ponies in a huge way, I was thrilled when my Mum knitted me a thick cerise coloured jumper with a horseshoe on the front.

The other day I visited a local arts centre and found they’d just had a knitathon. I was, in truth, rather glad I’d missed it. I know that knitting can be a huge pleasure. Ava, in ‘Ready Or Not?’ makes wonderful jumpers and finds it very therapeutic. I have written about its pleasures in articles. I once even borrowed a book by Kaffe Fassett from the library. I love the idea of knitting. Yes, it would be really nice to knit a sweater one day…maybe. I’ll leave the knitted socks to the experts.

Warm wishes,

Grace

Ordinary Miracles review:

‘Since Rosie [the pig] is not around, I’ve taken to talking to Teddy. My husband’s a liar and my daughter thinks she may be a lesbian, I tell him. My marriage is over and I’m too scared to get involved with anyone else – even though there’s another man who’s probably perfect for me.’

‘Wynne-Jones’s novel gives us a hilarious, exhilarating and sometimes poignant insight into the life of Jasmine Smith in her forty-first year, whose husband Bruce satisfies his lust in the marital bed with a family friend, and then begs forgiveness. Jasmine moves out of the family home into lodgings, where she finds a sympathetic ear in Charlie, her new landlord, and a pig called Rosie. Supported by her friend Susan, Jasmine experiments in widening what she feels was her mundane lifestyle. Daughter Katie, who has left home to study and do voluntary work in a dog’s home, gives Jasmine further problems to consider. Susan and Jasmine take an ‘alternative holiday’ to Ibiza. On their return home, Jasmine at last realises what and who she wants to share her life with, and it is certainly not Bruce. There are few who will not empathise with the characters within Ordinary Miracles; an excellent read and eloquently written. Norma Penfold A review from www.gwales.com, with the permission of the Welsh Books Council.

Given the way of such things it was probably both. If I were writing a book about it, I think would have liked to give the tale a happier ending. I feel a sympathy for the grandmother I never met, just like I often feel compassion for people in my books. For some reason she couldn’t keep her baby but in one of my novels a single mother keeps her child, though he was also born in an age when illegitimacy was shameful. I’m sure the mysteries surrounding my grandmother informed the story-line.

My mother was adopted by a rather grand Anglo Irish family with a beautiful estate in Ireland and became a ‘de Vere’. She eventually wrote a lovely book that describes her childhood and experiences as a young woman. Writing seems to be in the family genes, and I occasionally wonder if the Granny I never knew sometimes found herself voyaging with words, feeling the solace of it – the surprises and discoveries.

Writing, then, was very much part of my early life. Dad had written some educational books for children when he was younger. He worked overseas in education for many years and then became a teacher and headmaster. He was 54 when I was born and shortly afterwards became a clergyman. We lived in County Limerick in the depths of the Irish countryside and he spent hours tapping away on his typewriter in the large, rambling rectory. His face intent, his fingers hardly able to keep up with his thoughts. I sometimes borrowed his typewriter. In fact I wrote my first book on it called ‘Stories For Everyone’. I was about 11 at the time.

A self-published work with a print run of one copy, it featured a woman, a horse and a puppy on the cardboard cover, and the singer John Paul Jones on the back. It contained two stories. One was about my pony Merrylegs and another was about the joys of nature, so it didn’t quite live up to its title. But mum and dad liked it. And as we all know, encouragement is invaluable to a budding author.

I now live in Ireland and have also lived in England, Africa and the United States. Though I still adore ponies and nature these days I have extended my subject matter. Other women’s lives fascinate me and writing about them helps me to make sense of my own experiences. What’s more, I make all sorts of new friends as I type the chapters. Characters sometimes just seem to turn up, and I greet them hoping that they will share their hopes and disappointments, their fears and dreams and perplexities.

I love intimacy in ordinary life, people who seem to understand, people I don’t have to pretend with. And that’s what the characters in my novels ask of my friendship with them. They want to take off their masks and tell it how it truly is. Sometimes male characters do this too and I almost fall in love with them. For example I find Charlie in my book Ordinary Miracles deeply fanciable. And Nathaniel in The Truth Club would make a most wonderful confidant.

When people ask me for advice about writing I tell them to write. It is the process of writing that will reveal the kind of writer they are. The creative side of you needs to be sensitive, but the part of you that sends off manuscripts and receives feedback and may have to deal with rejection, has to develop a thick skin.

As to finding an agent, one tip is to read the Acknowledgments in books that you love. The author’s agent is usually mentioned and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t contact them yourself. But do your homework. Find out, for example, if they initially just want a synopsis and some sample chapters.

But whatever you do, and whatever your inspiration, write. Get on with it and see where the journey takes you. As Joseph O’Connor said, “There is only one trait that writers have in common. They watch for the extraordinary magic that lies in the everyday. Not willing inspiration but just being open to the world. This quiet looking and thinking is the imagination. It’s letting in ideas. It’s trying, I suppose, to make some sense of things.” Yes, that’s what us writers really need, and hope for.

Would also like to ask if they have a five point plan for hydrangeas. Do not own a chicken costume or a Chihuahua. Have not, as yet, mentioned hydrangeas to them either.

Love,

Grace

Did some decluttering, tidying and cleaning yesterday. I seem to have a large amount of old newspaper cuttings that ‘might be useful’…some of them date back years and have been shifted around the house because I wasn’t sure where to put them. Have thrown a number of them away recently. Others have been put into an expandable file (alphabetically). Not sure why I have kept a feature about the World’s Top Hotels as I couldn’t afford to stay in any of them…this has not been relocated. It is awaiting a quick perusal and the circular file.

It is easy to start this sort of work with great enthusiasm. Then, after a while, it can simply seem like a chore. I sometimes like to think of Peter Walsh when sorting through papers and other oddments. He’s a guy who sometimes helps people to declutter on Oprah. He is Australian and very upbeat and firm. Helping people get rid of stuff they don’t need is one of his passions. His imaginary coaxings are bracing. He helps me throw unwanted stuff into bags and then bring it to charity shops. He knows that sorting through clutter can be messy. But oh the delight of making decisions about, say, whether or not to keep an ornament, jumper or assortment of old plates. Some of these items have been hanging around like a question mark. Someone else might be delighted to have them. And making more space in the house helps me to appreciate items that may have been hidden under Sunday supplements etc.

I got another of Nigel Slater’s books out of the library. What a brilliant cookery writer he is. His unfussy and nurturing approach to food is good for the soul.

Lots of love,

Grace

I’m not sure if this product ever really changed my hair colour, but the name was alluring to a romantic teenager. Badedas bath oil was also highly respected because the ad said ‘Things Happen After a Badedas Bath…perhaps it’s to do with the horse chestnuts’. In the ad a woman who had just had a Badedas bath sometimes gazed through the window at a handsome man with a horse who seemed keen to meet her. I had many Badedas baths but no handsome stranger appeared out of the blue on the rectory lawn.

Sometimes the bathroom was also home to a nest of plump gorgeous puppies. My Mum bred dogs. I learned that when a puppy is really well fed and contented it frequently sleeps on its back and its small pink tummy looks completely adorable. My pony, Merrylegs, never made it up the bathroom. But I did bring him into the Morning Room to watch television when my parents were off shopping in Limerick. He seemed very pleased, and fascinated.

Though I’d read about Jesus in the Bible it was the picture of him on the rectory’s landing that particularly impressed me. Of course it was fab that he’d fed the Five Thousand. But as I approached adolescence I noticed something else. Jesus was extremely good looking in the painting. He was tall and well proportioned and had a beautiful, sensitive face. He was just the sort of guy I wanted to meet at a local dance…though of course if we had got talking I would have discovered he was the son of God.

My home is now a house in a terrace. Two big Caribbean paintings hang in the sitting room. They are mementos from my father’s sojourns abroad.. A carved wooden gecko climbs up a wall and a contented Buddha sits by the fireplace. It’s a hint of a tint of exoticism…though so far there are no tree frogs in the small bathroom.

Lots of love,

Grace

Hope that you have a nourishing and beautiful festive season and lots of love and light.

Love,

Grace

FUN VIDEO:
THE DIGITAL STORY OF THE NATIVITY

The Great Christmas Advice I refer to in the title comes from Elizabeth Lesser. Elizabeth is the co-founder and senior advisor of the Omega Institute and the author of Broken Open: How Difficult Times Can Help Us Grow and The Seeker’s Guide. You can find out more about her and her wonderful work here.

She’s been interviewed on Oprah and is a wise woman! I received her beautiful words in an Omega Institute newsletter and I have been given permission to include them in this blog. I posted them on the website before. However they are so wise they seemed worth sharing again. My introduction has also been used before.

Introduction

One of my passions is an interest in how consciousness is evolving on this planet. I won’t get too heavy about this because I also believe life is too mysterious to take it so serious…as the song says. I take some of my spiritual training very seriously, but I’ve also learned it’s best not to take oneself too seriously. This is easier said than done of course. But as the great Wavy Gravy says “We’re all bozos on the bus, so we might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.” Of course we do our best to ‘understand’ life’s mysteries. But there are many mysteries that remain beautiful mysteries. That is part of their gift to us. Instead of responding to them with bewilderment we can choose awe and gratitude. They remind us of life’s huge and sacred spaces.
I hope you will make as much time as you can to slow down this Christmas. To just ‘be’. To feel the beauty and immense power of stillness. You can even feel that deep stillness when you are ‘busy’. You just need to tune into it.

Lots of love,

Grace

IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO HAVE A HAPPY HOLIDAY by ELIZABETH LESSER

Before you continue reading this, do me a favor. Put down what you’re holding (in your hand or your head),”your shopping lists, your third cup of coffee, your date book, the phone call you should be making”and sit quietly for just 60 seconds. Take in a full breath, let it pool gently in the bottom of your lungs, and then release it slowly. Inhale deeply again, and exhale with an audible sigh. If you’re at work, don’t worry what your colleagues might think ”this time of year everyone would love to sigh deeply, and often. Inhale again; exhale with a long “aaahh”. With each exhalation, let your shoulders drop and your jaw relax. Do this a couple of times, with your eyes closed. Let the “aaahh” sound emerge from your belly, move up into your heart, and drift out into space as you exhale, slowly, smoothly, steadily. Now, open your eyes, and continue reading.

Helloooo?? Anyone there? It felt good to escape for a minute, didn’t it? But come on back ”it’s that time of year again: the modern miracle known as The Holidays, when into the dark little month of December, we squeeze Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, and a myriad of other celebrations, from ancient solstice rituals to the more contemporary rites of school plays, office parties, and community gatherings. Throw into that mix a generous dose of unrealistic expectations, budget-busting shopping, dysfunctional family feasts, airplane flights, darker days, colder weather, excessive eating and drinking, and no wonder that along with “peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” we get really stressed out.

But this year you can do something to spin your stress into the gold that is the promise of the season. Here are three ways to light up your holidays:

1. Believe that things can change. Look what happened this year in America! What would have been impossible just 40 years ago ”an African-American president elected by a wide majority ”is now reality. If a whole society can change its heart and habits, then so too can each of us. This holiday season, make Gandhi’s motto your spiritual practice: “Be the change you want to see in the world.” Slow down for a few minutes every day and sit in silence. Perhaps down at the bottom of the quiet well of your heart, you will discover some questions brewing in the fertile darkness: Is there someone I need to forgive? Is there something I must say to a family member or a friend? Is my full aliveness being dulled by the fear of change, an old wound, addictive behavior? In the true spirit of the holidays, let the darkness show you what wants to change. The truth will lead you back up to the light, and when the New Year rolls around, your resolution will be tinged with authenticity and power.

2. Recognize that there is no such thing as a normal holiday. Let’s start with the word “normal.” I once saw a bumper sticker that read, “Normal is someone you don’t know very well.” This is a good thing to keep in mind always, but especially now, when we assume that the normal people are all having happier, healthier, and more harmonious holidays than we are. We imagine their mailboxes stuffed with Christmas cards and party invitations, their homes decorated in Martha Stewart splendor, and their intact and idyllic families primed for five full weeks of good cheer. I don’t know these people, do you? The most effective thing you can do to reduce holiday angst is to wipe the word “normal” from your vocabulary. In my work at Omega, I have met tens of thousands of people from all walks of life. I have yet to meet a normal one, if normal means consistently sane, contented, and capable. And yet most of us hold ourselves up to an unattainable standard of human perfection. The 13th-century poet Rumi called this phenomenon, the “Open Secret.” He said each one of us is trying to hide the same secret from each other”not some racy or evil secret, but rather the mere fact of our flawed humanness. We expend so much energy trying to conceal our ordinary bewilderment at being human, or our loneliness in the crowd, or that nagging sense that everyone else has it more together than we do, that we miss out on the chance to really connect, which is what we ultimately long for. Especially during the holidays.

So, here’s something you can do this holiday season: Open up your
Open Secret. Overcome your embarrassment at being human. Tell a friend that you didn’t get one party invitation. Who knows? Maybe she didn’t either! Or maybe she did, and she’ll bring you along and you’ll meet new people ”the ultimate Christmas gift. Or maybe together you can go to your local homeless shelter and help the kids decorate the tree”the real spirit of the holidays….Or how about this? Don’t just say “Fine!” when a colleague asks how you are at the office party. Say, “Sometimes all this ho-ho-ho makes me feel lonely.” You’ll be surprised by the response. Suddenly a mere acquaintance will open up his secrets to you, and soon you’ll feel more connected, not only to him, but to the real meaning of the holidays.

3. Be aware that the holidays are about awakening joy in times of darkness. All of the religious parables at the heart of the holidays are about this mystery: how hope can be born out of hopelessness; how home can be found in exile; how celebration can come after grief. Joy is the gold we mine on the spiritual path, but that path traverses all sorts of uncertain and difficult terrains. For guidance along this path, turn to the spiritual teachings of Hanukkah, Christmas, winter solstice, and the lesser-known December holidays. You probably didn’t know that December 8 is Rohatsu, which commemorates the day in 566 BCE when the Buddha attained enlightenment. Like Mary and Joseph who found no welcome at the inn, and birthed the baby Jesus in a manger, and like the Maccabees who reclaimed the desecrated temple and lit the miraculous light of Hanukkah, the Buddha awakened his joy after a long struggle, under the Bodhi tree, alone and hungry. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan Father writes, “Truth and goodness are not always found at the top, but often on the edge and at the bottom. Not in the center of empire, but in the backwaters of Bethlehem.” Let the stories of the season help you find friendship, sanctuary, and light in the darkest month of the year.

Have decided that I will not make all my Christmas presents. Have also decided that I will not make all my Christmas cards. And not even knit the occasional Christmas decoration. It might as well be Helsinki here today. Frrreezing. Just staying warm is an endeavor in itself. But as least I am typing this blog which is good practice for my writing. I have not finished ‘The Artists’ Way’ yet. As far as I remember it says stuff about writing regularly. Now seriously tempted to turn off computer and check out if there is anything good on the radio. There is a lot of talk about how pretty the snow looks. And it is indeed very photogenic. However it’s been here for a while now. I thought I lived in a fairly temperate climate. Was thrilled when I noticed some slush yesterday as I trudged to the supermarket in my relatively new charity shop red shoes. Found myself buying a number of tinned items. Also bought some bargain chocolate biscuits.

I have just eaten chocolate biscuit.

I felt very virtuous the other day when I recorded the ‘notes to self’ I’d left around the place onto a small cassette recorder. However this means that I now have to type the list. Should make note ‘type the list’.

One of these days maybe I will get around to writing a novel. I have loads of notes about it. And nice quotes from other books such as ‘the night felt like cotton’. Don’t know where that quote comes from. I’d say it occurred somewhere warm. Would very much like to be on a Caribbean beach in a hammock. In the middle of last night there was a huge thunderclap. That was extremely weird. Really hope that it doesn’t start raining frogs. That happened in a great film called ‘Magnolia’. I like frogs actually. But I wouldn’t want loads of them heaped up on the pavement.

Poor little birdies out there in the snow. I have put some food out for them. Should probably also toss some sunflower seeds etc. around the park.

I had a minor hissy fit with sellotape in a hotel recently. Was trying to wrap presents that needed to be sent early. Find that sellotape can be rather moody and the bit that sticks out so that you can use it so often disappears into the rest of it. Even used a minor expletive fairly loudly. Coaxed myself with the wrapping with a cafe latte.

Saw a pug dog the other day going for a snowy walk and clearly enjoying him/herself. I love pugs. They are so eager and frisky. And they can be wonderfully wriggly.

Have added a slice of ginger to my tea.

Wonder if I should put socks over shoes if venturing outside.

I sometimes wonder whether it would be easier to write a novel if I dictated it into my small cassette recorder. The thing is I have only one tape and it has the list on it. So would have to type the list first. Or just get another tape.

If I did write a novel I wonder what I would wear to the launch. I have a very nice cerise jacket that I bought in Help The Aged.

There’s a lot of talk about ‘billions’ these days isn’t there? Was a time when million sounded huge. Now we have got used to billions. Though not quite in the way we wanted.

When finding cooking boring sometimes pretend I am Nigel Slater. He moves in a such an easeful way around his kitchen. And he reaches into the cupboards with gentle expertise. ‘Could this do with a dash of cumin?’ ‘And what about adding blueberries to the brown rice concoction?’ ‘How about reaching in a leisurely fashion for a sprig of rosemary?’ These are the types of questions that can sauce up a supper.

Warm wishes,

Honey

So far I have not applied for the Irish Government’s free cheese offer. I am not sure if I am eligible for it however in these recessionary times free cheese might come in handy. Yes it does sound like something from Monty Python. Like a lot of Irish people I have decided to ration the amount of news reports I listen to. I love it when some bouncy music comes on the radio. Especially a song from the past that I liked but forgot about.

If you are interested in uplifting mysterious projects suggest that you log on to a site about the Global Coherence Initiative. www.glcoherence.org

From website:

The Global Coherence Initiative is a science-based, co-creative project to unite people in heart-focused care and intention, to facilitate the shift in global consciousness from instability and discord to balance, cooperation and enduring peace.

This project has been launched by the Institute of HeartMath®, a nonprofit 501(c)(3), a recognized global leader in researching emotional physiology, heart-brain interactions and the physiology of optimal health and performance.

The Global Coherence Initiative is designed to help individuals and groups work together, synchronistically and strategically to increase the impact of their efforts to create positive global change.

Lots of love,

Grace