To mark the turning of the years, I started 2022 on my meditation cushion in the company of over a hundred people, scattered across the globe. I’d signed up for an online meditation retreat, led by one of my favourite teachers, Martin Aylward and assisted by Milla Gregory. For four days, we gathered on Zoom to explore presence, letting go and opening up, through guided meditations, dharma talks, breakout discussions and invitations for solo investigations.

I had a number of lightbulb moments about how to let go which I’d like to share with you, as well as some meditations for you to try. But first I’d like to give you a little context to help you accompany me on my journey towards understanding more about the power of surrender.

I am logging my daily delights for the month of November, inspired by The Book of Delights by Ross Gay. If you'd like to know why I'm doing this – start back at Moments of Delight #1.

Duck Pond Delights

I'm having an admin day at home. I've finished my not especially delightful lunch and my sprawling to-do list is waiting impatiently for my return. I take a moment to check in with myself and notice I'm coiled tight and panicky, I'm never going to get everything done! 

Compassion takes over, eases off my slippers and replaces them with my boots, before wrestling me into my coat and shoving me out the front door to go and see the ducks.

I am logging my daily delights for the month of November, inspired by The Book of Delights by Ross Gay. If you'd like to know why I'm doing this – start back at Moments of Delight #1.

Clifton Delights

It's Supervision day and I've ridden the tiny train all the way from the dirty East of Bristol where I belong to the grand North Western heights of Clifton, where I am an alien..

Inspired by The Book Of Delights, I challenged myself to write about a moment of delight every day for the whole of November. Far from distracting me from the grief, connecting with my delight has been helping me to replenish my strength and determination to keep going through what could be described as one of the hardest parts of my life to date.

Yesterday, I marked the 12 week anniversary of my partner walking out of our story, with a solo walk through wind, rain and sun at Weston-super-Mare beach. I listened to Tom Waits whilst gazing out on the mud flats and thought about all that I've lost and how far I've come.

Hello dear reader, well, have I got some stories for you?! I'm fresh from a soothing and enlivening wild women woodland retreat on the lush green hilly Sharpham Estate in Devon. I've been meandering, river swimming, meditating, moving, singing, chatting, laughing, crying, eating and howling with a pack of incredible women with astonishing stories, under the gentle and powerful guidance of Nina Jankelson and Shoshana Moskowitz.

This blog tells the tale of my solo day and what it taught me about surrender. 

After three days of developing a toolkit of mindfulness techniques, sensory exploration, nature reflection and ritual, each of us were given a packed lunch (yay!) and invited to cross a flowery threshold onto the vibrant, undulating beckoning land, solo, guided by our chosen intention.

Trigger warning: miscarriage, grief, swearing

Clear blue sky, warm sun, cool breeze and a cacophony of birdsong. I'm sitting on the balcony of my tiny Holly-sized converted garage apartment on the south coast of Cornwall in the midday sun (I might regret this decision later when I'm lobster red). I rode three trains, a bus and a ferry to get here, to walk and breathe and BE for a week. As I gaze out at the frenzy of blossom, the cornucopia of plump rhododendrons and the swarms of frantic dancing bees, I think, “Oh Fuck Off!”

Trigger warning: contains references to miscarriage and shame

It's baby loss awareness week, which happens to coincide with a few days of full body flashbacks to my last miscarriage which happened back in June, just after the last Beyond The Ridiculous show...