The Importance of Being Earnest… or Jovial

Once, when my child died in pregnancy, a loving relative told me that it was “all for the best.  There was probably something wrong.”  Erroneously timed, clichéd and facile, it was a mistake.  Don’t repeat it.  Grieve alongside the sorrowful or just “be” in their presence.  That will provide all the comfort needed.

A child, a new life, always brings hope.  The loss of hope should never be categorised as anything other than gut-wrenchingly explosive, joy-drainingly horrifying or personally cataclysmic.

Life without hope is unendurable.

We must find hope every day – albeit in the tiniest and most unusual of ways and places – the hope of a kind word or the smile of even a stranger.  (An elderly lady, a few years ago, thanked me for a “Good Morning”, tossed lightly, as we passed on the road.  Should a greeting ever be so rare that it becomes a privilege?)  The hope that, today, we will get a seat on the bus, satisfy our boss, please our partner.  The hope that today will be bolder, brighter, better – or rather, that we will be so.  The hope that if not today, then tomorrow…

Hold onto hope, with both hands and arms grabbing and rigidly locking around it.  Don’t let go of hope in the simple, the tiny and the good – no matter what happens, no matter who happens.

Don’t be a clone, a robot or a sheep.  Live positively, live individually, live well.

I wanted to walk through a dense, low hedge and scale a fence (also vertically challenged!) to exit a car park, a few days ago.  My companion – far younger – forbade me and the moment passed.  I had managed, earlier, to sing along and dance to ‘80s music blaring vaguely in a toy shop.  An assistant and I shared the humour of the moment and quietly brightened each other’s day.

Harmless eccentricity – all of it – should be encouraged and celebrated.  Be who you are.  Care to be different; dare to be unique.

Bearing in mind the adages, “The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world” and “Revenge is a dish best served cold”, Prince William’s decision to propel his late mother’s memory into the limelight – for all time – via that ring and that photographer, should be a lesson for us all.  Of course, the combined cheering of mothers and first wives, everywhere, sounds almost akin to a suffragette rally!

See what I mean about hope?

Have an eventful, jovial and successful 2011.

Welcome to the Journey

Central to the heart of every home and every age is the mothering spirit. It is gentle, yet firm; nurturing, yet challenging; loving, wise and simple. Many birth mothers do not possess it; folk of either gender may display it. Life is lost without it.







Central to the heart of every home and every age is the mothering spirit.  It is gentle, yet firm; nurturing, yet challenging; loving, wise and simple.  Many birth mothers do not possess it; folk of either gender may display it.  Life is lost without it.

The mothering spirit, in each of us, seeks to protect the innocent and vulnerable whilst precisely identifying and punishing the guilty.  It seeks the good in each person and even lovingly tolerates the dull, the daft and the great unwashed!

The mothering spirit is simultaneously ethereal and easily recognisable – even by the youngest child.

Called the “mothering” spirit, it derives its name from mothers who have – since the beginning of time – held an opinion about every topic under the sun!  Their quasi-omnipotence and success has hinged on the pin-point accuracy of their decisions whether, where and when to share knowledge.

Welcome – a true welcome – to all those who have or seek the mothering spirit in our time.  Let us journey together.

True to the mothering spirit of standard bearing, I begin by mentioning the current number 1 on my list of things “people simply should not do”: spitting in public.  Revolting and unhygienic beyond belief, in some quarters it appears to have become a national past-time.  Interestingly, the same individuals merrily manage to desist from expectorating on the train, tram or tube.  They don’t spit arbitrarily, so why do it at all?  Inexplicable!

I’m off to resurrect the wreath for the front door.

Happy Christmas!  Peace, joy and hope to you.