Damn Strong Those Anchors!

10 04 2016

I never really know whats going to appear in these posts until i start writing and then the hope is that I can somehow un-jumble the tapestry of riches that life has bestowed upon me since the last post into something that is meaningful and read-worthy.

Ive just returned from a weekend in Cologne staying with a beautiful couple that I met in India on the last day of my holiday last November. In India she called me “The lady on the sunbed”. Now she calls me her sister. The three of us only had a brief encounter of about 10 minutes in India, our friendship since then has flourished thanks to the wonders of social media!

The Universe, once again, placed the right people at the right time for me on my pathway. The pathway of the life of Rebekah- Zillah that began but a few short months ago when Zillah arrived and I made my first faltering steps, inwardly anxious, as my child sized feet stepped up to the seemingly Herculean task of rebuilding a happy, satisfying and joyful life for myself. Each step bringing new experiences, creating more memories for my soul and teaching me more and more about the latent inner resources that I carry deep within.

So my two german friends… They say like attracts like, and we did!. As I arrived at their home nestled deep within the forest, I was greeted by an abundance of crystals and stones, huge lumps of amethyst, dream catchers and crystal sun catchers each carrying its own beautiful healing energy and peace giving qualities. When the heart chakra is open and connected to another soul, being in their company is effortless, conversation flows easily and silences are relaxed, hours are confused with minutes and smiles and joy from deep within leave a feeling of deep contentment. Safe to say we three connected our heart chakras. They welcomed me and loved me and cared for me. What a gift.

They even had walking shoes in the right size for me; “These shoes will await your return Rebekah, as will the house”. Of course I know that I will have to add to that welcome with my own teacup, theres many a cupboard far and wide, near and far paying homage to little secondhand bone china Rebekah teacup. Rest assured if you have a teacup  of mine in your home you are dearly held in my heart!!

I would have visited anyway at some point in the year but essentially I went to join the big 50th birthday celebration. 100 guests, live music and a new destination to explore with fab people, whats not to like. Nothing, there was nothing not to like so why the uneasy feeling that started a wrestling match in my guts as the party started? Weird, Im not afraid of crowds, Im no shrinking violet and I can chat shit as good as the next person. Fair enough, in this particular instance the shit that was most likely being chatted was in German of which I have no knowledge but all the same. And I did look just ever so slightly different to everyone else, but then I look different to everyone else in Saffy and thats never set off any insecurities.

So, poker face set- I dont mean that I had a face as long as West Street, I mean that I kept a smile on my face that I hope  reached my eyes and didn’t give away the inner wobble that was gathering strength and threatening to take me hostage. I felt homesick, I wanted to be in my garden, my bastion of safety and calm, with my favourite teapot and my eclectic choice of teacup with me wrapped up in my Mexican prayer rug burning incense and I suppose in all honesty looking like I belong in the loony bin!

Still, I smiled.

I’ve only ever come close to a real panic attack twice, once the day after Alistair passed, the why’s and wherefores of that are unimportant now, and the first time ever was in Germany nearly 2 years ago when I came face to face with the worst situation and the worst few days I have ever had to live through in my life. Ive been through some shit over the years, lets be honest, who hasn’t, but to help you understand where this memory sits in the hierarchy of difficulty, it was worse than the day my ex husband had me arrested and I spent 9 hours in a police cell fearing I would spend even more time at Her Majesty’s Pleasure. And, it was worse than the day Alistair died. Ive written about this so no need to rewrite history, suffice to say, Alistair went into kidney failure and nearly died, I was alone, didn’t speak the language, didnt actually have a clue where I was, had nowhere to stay and felt sick to my guts with worry that he would die in Germany and just didnt know at all what was going to happen.

And there you have it Ladies and Gentleman… a brilliant example of how an anchor can be triggered, in this case an auditory and kinaesthetic one, the sound and feeling of being surrounded by German voices  brought all  the emotions flooding back that actually belonged to that traumatic event from my past 2 years ago.  No shit Sherlock! I had no idea that was lodged somewhere deep in my bones, loitering with intent waiting for its moment to strike. Maybe the BioEnergetics workshop moved it a bit closer to the surface last weekend!

Still I smiled. I smiled and chatted and made friends and we crept back at 2 o’clock in the morning.. the sign of a good party. And, I have had an utterly enjoyable weekend and count my blessings for the friendship and love of these two dear people who I know will be long standing friends. They tell me there is package waiting for me in Berlin… which basically means I must go back. However, the unease and homesick feeling stayed, all day, in the sun, walking in the clean air with the sound of running water with amazing countryside, all the way to the airport and all the way home. Even knowing its origin didn’t shift it. It stayed right up until the moment I got back to ‘Mynzies’, dressed like a loony, lit the incense and took tea in the garden. Then all of me smiled.

And to the one person that knew what was going on and helped me dig deep, find my courage and keep smiling, to borrow your phrase, I say to you “A Thousand Thank you’s” x

Om Shanti x








The girl with the dragon and a tattoo

23 03 2016

I just had a good chuckle to myself as I started to write this as I thought “I wonder if people will think Im crackers as I try to explain where Im at in life right now” and then realised that probably yes and who cares anyway!!

The bewitching and protective charms that surround and overflow at ‘Mynzies’ have been intensified by the addition of Monte, a beautiful slate dragon who sits atop the roof casting his protective gaze up and down the street and bringing his unique dragon energy fairly and squarely into this beautiful and amazing space. How I adore living here.  It is said that a dragon will never reveal his real name to you and whilst waiting to ‘hear‘ his name you refer to him as Mon-Te. Too impatient to wait and lead astray by Candace and Kirt, he was christened Monte immediately. I love that dragon. I feel his energy. A neighbour asked incredulously “Why do you have a dragon on the roof”?. Given the intense feeling he has stirred up in me all I could answer was “Why wouldn’t you?” Not quite sure she could fathom me! Equally unsure I wanted to be fathomed by her!!

To my knowledge, only one of my posts has caused offence and upset, to Alistair actually, and that was of course never my intention. It was during the deepest most desperate part of our journey together when he was nearing the end of his life here on Earth. A Morphine addled brain joined a deeply held insecurity that pre-dated  our union with a disbelief of my unconditional love for him given his needs and physical state. I wrote about the toughness of the demands on me and BOOM.. it went off like a ten bob rocket. As I said, my blog was never ever intended to cause pain but it was always meant to be totally honest, through the good times and the bad.  Thats what makes it unique, loveable and readable I think. A friend stayed for the weekend and dipped into it and said ” Oh my god… its like your heart is holding the pen”. It is.

So please, family and friends, don’t weave a meaning or thread a storyboard together as my story unfolds in this post. Im merely sharing the discoveries with you that I make as my new path unfolds before me.

As I feel myself awaken from a slumber so deep within, a passion for life is uncoiling and presenting itself in all manner of alternative guises that have hitherto gone unexplored. And, I am for the first time ever, really free to embrace life without fear of upsetting anyone. I neither have to check with nor mind anyone else’s feelings. I don’t have to compromise, I don’t have to put my needs, wants and desires to the back of the queue. I don’t have to adjust my responses to avoid upset, Not an applecart in sight!! What a joy.

The spirited enthusiasm for life and abundant energy I find myself with just now makes sense as I have only me to pour my energy into. Over the years my energy has been poured – albeit lovingly- into everything else outside of me. For a long time.

I grew up in a household that thrived on tension and my attention and energy as a child was largely spent making sure everyone around me was happy, in an unconscious bid to lift the tension. My parents decision to ride out their partnership for the sake of the children came with a price attached to it. The stage was set; The giving continued and I poured my heart into my first marriage, my beautiful children, my darling Alistair and his 3 children, our practice, our home, our financial security, my parents as they became infirm and their needs increased and ultimately Alistair’s final journey. None of which I regret, at all, let me be clear about that. My gift to my friends and family is the unconditional love and friendship that I bring and my philosophy is pretty simple, if you give and expect something in return, thats a job, if you give and expect nothing thats Love. Seems a nice way to be to me too. And I am so enjoying being on the receiving end of my unconditional loving and giving to myself. It feels good, I hope it feels this good for my friends who are on the receiving end of it too.

And I shouldn’t be surprised that ‘time for me’ is coinciding with the natural rhythms of my body, as I transition from Mother to Wise Woman ( Crone in proper terms but it conjures up such an unattractive image I feel). Time for my Wild Woman to come out and play!!

All of these momentous turning points in my life I felt had to be marked with something equally momentous and what better than a beautiful Triple Goddess Tattoo beautifully and skilfully inked in hues of purple and pink that, each time my eye catches it, creates a feeling within like Ive come home to myself.

Winds in the east, mist coming in like something is brewing about to begin, can’t put my finger on what lies in store but I feel whats to happen all happened before” P,L, Travers


Namaste xx

Tiny Dancer

20 02 2016

Since my trip to India life has woven a pretty spectacularly rich tapestry for me, or perhaps I should say I have gathered the threads of life and woven myself a pretty colourful and richly blessed tapestry.

Here I am in Marrakech with the adorable Kirt and my gorgeous nephew Flynn, to celebrate our lives and the returning of Alistair’s Soul back home, a full calendar year ago. Kirt and I have named the day “Happy Return to Soul Day”… It sounds much better than our first attempt ” Happy Death Day”!!  which made perfect sense, we celebrate Birth days after all. But no, Happy return to Soul Day is softer on the ears and a  touch gentler on the heart too!

Marrakech is perfectly crazy and I literally have not stopped laughing since the three of us got together Thursday evening. It would seem my adorable travelling companions are used to a slower pace of life than their crazy Mumma- Aunt!! Never thought I would have written that a year ago! Although a year ago I truly believed  I would be an insular nun like creature that talked mainly to her plants and lived some half life not really needing anything or anyone other than the memories held in my heart of my life up to that point with Big Bear (Alistair). As I said in my last post, clearly The Universe has totally different plans for me! And it turns out Im loving those plans!!

But about today, thank you to my friends who messaged and called ahead of time to send love and check how I’m doing, and thank you thank you thank you ‘Chapel Girl’ for the most thoughtful present left on my doorstep in readiness for this weekend. What a beautiful serendipitous crossing of our paths!

Its been funny, and I don’t mean that in a disrespectful way, receiving a couple of truly heartfelt but condolency type wishes this week (“We hope you can find a moments happiness or some peace this sad and difficult week”). I fully understand the intention of kindness behind these wishes but the sadness and grief being conveyed just doesn’t resonate with me, its like Im trying to understand a different language. Truthfully, since Alistair journeyed back home, I have known a deep sense of peace and even during some difficult, deeply feeling and emotional days I knew happiness was still there inside me. But, I guess people can only imagine how they would be feeling and project that onto how I must be feeling in order to try to understand it? And of course, naturally, many people in my situation absolutely do feel like that.

Surely though you’ve all got a good measure of me by now, not one to tread a conventional path, not in grief, not in love, not in spiritual beliefs and not in life! And life now is absolutely calling me… loudly.

As you know, the the Tantric Trance dance woke my soul, and Ive stayed awake, totally switched on since that night in Vauxhall (“one night in Vauxhall one night in Vauxhall”!) and theres a part of me refusing to not dance, anywhere! And thats really strange you know. I haven’t danced freely or inconspicuously  (not sure if thats a real word) since being lost in my own little world of dance moves at a school disco many many years ago, probably also wearing my odd little mix of clothes, and of course a bunch of girls laughed at me. Unknowingly they stole my freedom and my spirit and I have never danced openly since. Until now..Its seems that dancing blind fold connected me to a natural rhythm so deep in my bones that my soul stirred and connected me with something HUGE.

I had an amazing time at the festival and the yurt was FAB, friendships were forged that I know will be long standing and my pledge to myself to wear my metaphorical blindfold and bystand no longer reaped much joy and pleasure. So much so I wonder why I stayed a crab apple for so long!! Its like a new doorway to life and a new way of being has opened up to me. And then, of course, a little Universal synchronicity got involved and I sat and listened to a truly inspirational guy, ‘Chris Paradox’, look him up. He spoke about seeing through eyes of divine happiness and living in a way that honours joy and doesn’t turn that joy down in order to fit in with social norms. Makes sense right. How often do you sing and dance out loud in the privacy of your own home and then shut right up and walk properly down the street in your own little silo? So he keeps his joy turned right up, full volume, on the tube, on the bus and sings, out loud whilst always looking for the beauty rather than the judgmental slight in what he sees. Love it

So, that little part of me that refuses to not dance, thats the joy in my life that I will not turn down. And I have danced, out loud, on the train, on the platform, and its done a few things. Firstly, Ive stayed full of beans and very smiley, and actually really fun to be around. Secondly, people around me have started to smile although there has also  been some staring (hasn’t killed me) and thirdly, there have been some buttoned up city types (sorry for the pigeon hole city workers) that have actually loosened up, visibly. Viewing life in this way has also shown me how many folk walk about totally turned down, rushed, and quite frankly looking thoroughly miserable.

And that got me wondering about peoples lives (Im so nosey).Remember the Shaman I quote fairly often in my blog posts? He said, if you don’t know why you have something in your life, be that a possession, a job, a relationship, an object, go away and either rediscover your passion and its meaning or let it go. I wonder how many folk just get lost in the daily struggle, the bump, the grind, doing what they think and feel is expected of them, but somewhat joylessly and not connected to what  got them into it in the first place? If thats you, its time to rediscover, renew, reconnect or perhaps let something go.

This Shamanic approach has become deeply entwined in my philosophy as I wonder along life’s pathway, with a very different perspective than I have had previously. A while ago, I met up with a guy (metaphorical nuns habit only slightly loosened), we arranged to meet and then he didn’t show up! I was slightly disorientated and to be honest my equilibrium was totally upset for a few days. I didn’t like it. Then a while later, my trusty advisor, completely unaware of this situation having happened, mentioned to me that I would need to expose myself to rejection, spot bloody on, where did that accuracy come from my friend?!!! Of course I have to get used to rejection (although come on, some manners would be nice, if you can’t make something or don’t want to make something, be honest)! But I also want to keep my equilibrium, its precious to me and keeps me in good health and good spirits. My steadiness actually is the most important thing that I have, and I have a tight grasp on that as a parent who holds the hand of a cherished child. So, only people, things and opportunities that add to my equilibrium and steadiness are welcomed into my life and anything that unbalances and upsets my equilibrium is let go, and quickly.

To all the beautiful souls who are wondering along my path with me and know that you  are contributing to the richness and steadiness of my lifes rich tapestry and I honour and thank you deeply for that x


Namaste friends xx



Warning, When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple

10 02 2016

Sure sign I have an exam coming up… Liver Detoxification pathways or write my blog, looks like I have a date with liver detox at 5am tomorrow before work!

It seems like the winds of change are blowing! And as weird as it may seem I realise that I  initially struggle somewhat with change. I like the predictable, the safe, the steady, the thing I struggled with when we lived in Gladys was not knowing where and how long we would be somewhere for. As it turned out we didn’t have to move about too much which suited me fine. That felt much safer.

So its funny to find myself writing that I don’t like change when so much has changed in such a relatively short space of time. But not liking change is not the same as not embracing it or adapting to it. One of my most used quotes ever at work must be “Change is Inevitable” my poor clients have to hear me banging on about it ad infinitum, but, true to my training many many years ago, I never expect my clients to do anything that I am not prepared to do.

Brace yourself friends and followers… I’ve been on a bit of a journey of change in the last week  and I can tell you I loved it so much that much more is coming from where that came from!

Where to start and how to explain I don’t really know and whether you get it or not, well thats up to you.

Some time back I booked to go to a festival over Valentines weekend. I thought losing myself in a few hundred people that I didn’t know would be much better than being the odd number in a small group, the elephant in the room so to speak. Being a festival virgin I booked myself a yurt to stay in so if all else failed and I hated it I could resume my fail safe position of not being involved or in other words by standing (grandma crabapple) and hide away in the yurt until it was all over.

Obviously the Universe had vastly different plans for me and is sabotaging any attempts I may make to remain both uninvolved and a crabapple! Turns out the yurt is communal! Lucky I found out in plenty of time, not to cancel remember Im  not a quitter, but to prepare myself. Obviously I didn’t take the news well initially. A call to Pippin verging on the hysterical (she was very good and didn’t laugh until safe to do so) followed by a less hysterical but ‘what the fuck am i going to do’ call to my measured advisor who promptly laughed immediately!! The thought of it was so far out of my comfort zone it messed with my sleep for a couple of nights.

In truth I actually don’t know how the next bit happened but if there was any logic involved it went a bit like this. If Im going to be uncomfortable sharing a yurt with 30 strangers then do something before that weekend thats even more out of your comfort zone and then the yurt will be a piece of piss! Makes sense right?

Somehow or the other I stumbled on (or the Universe found for me) a Conscious (no drugs no alcohol) Shamanic Tantric Trance Dance in London that offered to ‘Wake me up, turn me on and tune me in”. Oh, and just one other thing to add here, you wear a blind fold. Remember I blogged some time ago about finding a Tantric Massage and the video of the mans ugly bits bobbling about had me running a mile from looking any further into it. Not this time, no ugly bits bobbling about in the video but some pretty free spirited wild dancing going on. Just the thing to get me over my fear of sharing a yurt!

So festival virgin becomes tantric virgin! I signed up there and then, drove to the venue on Saturday, donned my blindfold with the other beautiful folk and had the absolute best time of my life. Nothing sordid, no nakedness, but freedom like I have never ever known or experienced ever. The point of the blindfold is that you are making a commitment to yourself to feel and go through any discomfort or fear and come out the other side to a stronger freer place. There’s a rule of no talking at all on the dance floor and no by standing both of which are deemed fear based actions (makes sense, theres lots of talking shit that goes on because people feel uncomfortable or vulnerable and so run off at the mouth and I know that I by stand or don’t get involved to protect my vulnerability).

The music woke my soul, the dancing freed my spirit and the whole evening turned me upside down inside out and backs to front in the most glorious mad and unexplainable way. The people filled my heart with joy and the room spun with pure bliss. I let go of so much in a few hours, conformity, convention, judgement and fear. All for £20!!!

The music is still ringing in my soul, my spirit is soaring free as a bird and any tie I had to conformity is melting away. I have not by-stood since saturday (crab apple gland well and truly disengaged), and I am absolutely champing at the bit to get to the festival.

In my morning meditations I always ask that what I am doing is for the highest good of me and for the highest good of the one in all. Last Saturday I surrendered to something and became part of a something, a community, part of the One in All.

What blessings my courage lead me to on Saturday night. I will never let go now of my blindfold, you will not see me wearing it but it will always be there,unseen, my commitment to myself to feel the fear, journey through it and emerge stronger, freer and changed a little bit more.

In search of more purple…. Namaste friends x


January Blues!

13 01 2016

I think even in the good old days, long before life got hard, January could always seem a bit of a long bleak month. Today though has, quite honestly seemed longer and bleaker than ever and where the hell that snuck up from nobody knows! Christmas Eve deja Vu!

I have had the blessing though of lots of WhatsApp activity from my friend who coincidentally turned out to be studying at the same college as me in London, and she had been stuck in a death by powerpoint lecture all day!  LG you are an angel and your WhatsApp really helped me through.

My intentions for the day started so well, as ever, outside in the spiritually peaceful place that is ‘Mynzies’ back garden. Always such a beautiful start to the day but it sort of went very quickly downhill after that. Damn Van Morrison, he started his heart tuggingly sorrowful singing of “Reminds me of you”… a song laden with meaning for when Alistair and I first met. Ive listened to this countless times over the past year but today for some reason it set off a stream of pain inside me that has yet to be quenched all these hours later.

Im pretty good usually at satiating the emotional beast within when she wakes! Not today. I broke with protocol and blubbed when a friend phoned.. hanging up did cross my mind but then Im learning to make myself  a little more vulnerable in some circumstances and this seemed to be one of them. It helped, a lot. Note to all people talking to people in my situation..don’t offer platitudes, don’t try and fix and don’t ever say “oh don’t cry”! Thank you for holding me in that painful space so kindly my friend, you did good.

My plans to get my head stuck into my books to satisfy my study schedule went out of the window and I took myself off to Burwash Manor in Cambridge. Two things help I feel in such dire emotional situations; spending money and eating cake!!!! Still healthier than my old go to vices; 20 Sobranie Cocktails and several double Jack Daniels!

Candace caught up with me on the phone whilst at said venue, oh god, the protocol went even further out of the window..tears in the shop! What the fuck!!!! Well swerved though Pippin and well held too. Thank you. I can only remember not being able to hold it together to this extent once before, 5 days before Alistair died. We had had the most awful row, so unusual for us but you can imagine the tension was way up there and it wasn’t helped by the morphine either. I was done in, frazzled, completely finished, didn’t want to go home but didn’t want to not be there either and I was trying to order a Chinese takeaway in the local restaurant. God only knows what they must have thought, I was a complete wreck in there!

And I think that the awful horror of what I went through for the last 10 months of Alistair’s life has somewhat cushioned me over the past year. It was so truly horrific, so stressful, so knackering, so emotional, so desperately hard that when he died it was such a relief. As much as I missed him, there was no more struggle, for either of us.

In time though, the pain of those memories has dimmed, as it surely must. We are not geared up to remember pain, it doesn’t do us any good and as that pain has moved into the background the enormity of living without Alistair has surfaced today. What a bloody swizz!

I don’t plan to be snivelling my way through this year but over the past few days I have been missing things that previously I hadn’t considered. The little things that came with being in a relationship, Alistair meeting me at the station after a long weekend at college, having him open the door when I got home from work, smelling the incense that he’d lit in anticipation of my arrival home. And then of course, as I have mentioned in previous posts, the physical side of our relationship. I miss him, I miss his arms around me, I miss our intimacy. And I miss that he was the one person I only ever really trusted with my raw emotion.

And then of course I have a “doing it list”. And I will do the things on my doing it list, every damn one of them, I will do things that I would perhaps rather not be doing because I have to, I have to create a meaningful life for myself, over and above the beautiful meaning that Candace and Kirt and my close family and friends bring. BUT, today, the thought of doing those things makes me feels so lonely, Im only doing them because Alistair died. I say today because most likely tomorrow will bring a totally different vibe, I hope that my joyful spirit will be reinstated and i will be once again be looking forward to the weird wild and wonderful things I have planned for myself.

So a tough day, don’t panic, Im not, nobody ever died of a bunch of feelings, its what we do to keep away from them that causes the damage and Im always willing to feel them, Im also a tough old bird.

And now the feelings are quenched, peace is descending, my blog, my children and my friends have worked their magic


Namaste x





A song to be sung

28 12 2015

So here I am writing my blog from a little tea room in beautiful Aldeburgh on the last day of the long Christmas holiday weekend

Emotions sort of snuck up on me, canny things that they are, on Christmas Eve, uninvited and out of the blue whilst I was out in a cafe in Saffy. Damn bloody feelings! No warning, just a miniature tsunami that welled up from somewhere in the depths of me just as my lip curlingly black coffee arrived at the table. I hate being caught unawares like that. And caught I was! I had literally popped out with only my money in my pocket, no sun glasses to hide behind, no tissues to fain a cold, no note book or book to lose myself in. Nothing whatsoever to deflect the hot sting of the sad fat tears as they spilled out accompanied by that sharp intake of breath, a sort of emotional prodromal warning that snot and tears are steaming forward. I summoned every ounce of self restraint and strength that I had and called forth an authoritative yet kindly inner voice that whispered “ Not here poppet, not now”. They taught me years ago when I was training as a therapist how to avert my tears as they didn’t agree with showing emotion in front of a client. I do show emotion in front of my clients and in the main they seem to appreciate it! However, in this instance, the tactics worked!

Weird I know, being as I write about such intimate details of my life for all and sundry to read, perfect strangers know more about me than people that should perhaps know more, but that said, I am actually fiercely private about who gets to see me emotionally raw. Its a small audience that consists of… ME!!!!

Tsunami averted, the strongest coffee on the planet swiftly swallowed and I was out of there and back to the refuge and privacy of ‘Mynzies’ where no more holding it together was called for and the wailing beast could be unleashed. Definitely a Waaambulance job!!

It did its job though, Christmas Day and Boxing Day were given the green light without Moaning Myrtle making an appearance. Lucky for all those that had my company. As ever, Candace and Kirt came up trumps and kept an understated but heartfelt ‘widow watch’ out for me. Gave me space but included me in all that I wanted.

To be honest, come the day after Boxing day, I was ready for time without anyone. I wasn’t sure what I needed or wanted, it turned out it was today, a trip to the seaside, to the beautiful Aldeburgh. Its always beckoned me and reminds me of spending time with my Mum in years gone by. The two of us used to escape for a couple of nights now and then, mooch about, have several too many drinks and laugh about all sorts of nonsense.

Today,the bracing wind blew the shadows away and the sea air worked her magic on my spirit, although sadly not on my poor old lady knee, 50 metres walking on the pebble beach rendered me all but crippled. A shocking state of affairs being as I had been hoping to join a Lindy Hop dance class in the New year and possibly attempt a 5k mud run in the spring! Obviously those plans will have to wait until I have a brand spanking new knee some time in the future. Then watch me mud run and Lindy Hop!!

So the route march was cancelled and instead I wrote this in the warmth and comfort of the Cragg Sisters Tea Rooms over a bowl of butter bean, lemon and thyme soup, see how wild I am these days!

Another thing that Aldeburgh had up its sleeve for me aside from the aforementioned tea room, was the gift of a Christmas Tree on the beach specifically and generously donated for the remembrance of those who have left ahead of us! Perfect, they even had pens on a ‘Pebble Homage’ table to use and leave at the tree. I just love synchronicity!

So thats me, refreshed, joy reinstated, moaning myrtle satiated and as ready as I will ever be for the new year. A year of newness I hope, new experiences, new adventures, new additions to my ‘ doing it’ list and as ever plenty of laughter.

It seems looking back over the run up to Christmas 2015, I have, with the help of my precious family and a couple of special friends, laughed and laughed, I have also sung so heartily that my little throat strands have needed coaxing to still natter the nonsense that I natter to myself or the poor soul Im probably boring to death with my nattering. I have set the bar high for next year!

So thank you thank you thank you to my stalwart family, especially Candace and Kirt who have held me so preciously in their hearts, always ready to catch me if I stumble but knowing me so well and watching me wonder. My beautiful sister Kate,  and Gillian and Uncie Paul. Thank you to my dear friend (don’t panic, I won’t name you) who has called me without fail every week since early Spring to see how I am and can equally talk shit forever and thank you to my friend who is possibly the busiest person on the planet yet finds time for me even when there is no time to be found.

I am almost, almost, through the calendar year and to be honest I will be really glad when I am. During this year I have built the foundations of a life for myself and now I am excited to live the rest of the journey still with a heart full of love and a spirit full of joy

Namaste friends and a Happy New year 🙂


Growing into myself

16 11 2015

Much like many of life’s great milestones, when they come along, there are no instructions attached to show you how to manage it. And so it was when my twosome with Alistair became a Onesome with myself.

Hard to believe I am heading towards my first year, that all important ‘calendar year’ that I have been banging on about to grieving clients for most of my practising life! A year of firsts to get through, the first birthday, christmas, wedding anniversary, new year, holiday, change in season and all the other things that may come along that need to be manoeuvred through, alone, rather than together.

And there’s that word that I have come to loathe, ‘alone’, its like forever there will be something missing, Im not alone by choice. Life made that decision for me, life on life’s terms, not mine.

Please, don’t get me wrong, Im flourishing on my own, I’ve nestled into it and I really like it, I’m not lonely, Im content, I love the life that I have and remain in awe of how the Universe has taken care of me and of course I remain steadfast in my eclectic beliefs. But, being Mrs Rhind, the widow of the late Alistair Rhind will always render me the half that has been left behind, the lone surviving partner. And that seems a bit grim really.

So as the months have passed, and here I am, hard to believe, but 3/4 of the way through My calendar year without him I realise I have developed my own sense of ‘Oneness’ (add an ‘L’ and you have ‘Loneness’- take the ‘L’ away and, ta da, you have ‘Oneness). Oneness is good, it feels whole, as of course it is.

Then the other day, unplanned and unexpectedly my Oneness evolved a step further. The beautiful Pippin is having her ancestry traced and called me, brimming over with excitement, to update me with what has been uncovered so far on both sides of her family. It turns out my family had some pretty amazing first names a hundred or so years ago. Zillah for example!

As soon as I heard that name I knew it belonged to me, the me I am now. I can’t explain it and have no need to, the name called me and I responded, immediately!

I changed my name by deed poll there and then, but of course, never one to do things by half, when the online form gave me the option to make any other changes to my name I claimed my maternal grandmothers maiden name too. It was something I had thought of doing when I was divorced from my first husband, however, Alistair was not so happy to water down his family name so to speak with a double barrelled name so I waited and claimed Alistair’s name. And was always happy with Mrs Rhind, until Zillah came along, and shone her light on the me I have grown into over these past 9 months.

And grow I certainly have. Im in India now, my 50th Birthday present to myself, plus I promised Alistair I would come back in his stead if he didn’t make it. We had planned to come out in February of this year, of course that couldn’t happen. Looking back over the past several months I can see how my confidence has grown, in comparison to how I felt in Turkey earlier on in the year, the first of the firsts you see! Turkey was good, but Im 100 times stronger, much more sure of my own space now and I feel quite at ease wondering about here on my own.

Time of course has helped me to heal and grow, creating new experiences for myself to learn and develop from has helped me to grow and putting my brave pants on and getting on with life has helped me to grow. And as my beautiful sister said to me, Zillah sounds like the owner of some seriously brave pants!!

So back to the name change…the day I honoured my Oneness and became a whole person again; Rebekah Zillah O’Neal Rhind. Feels good.

Namaste x




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