Get good vibes & more with my monthly'ish "Namaste Notes":

August hues and blues…

In Healing Words, Real Life on August 10

August hues and blues

Feeling lazy. Feeling…August. In all it’s brazen holiday-ness, hues and blues, there is something about August that breaks in under the skin and takes my cells over for 31 days. August breaks in to time. In to lives. A high summer thief that brings gifts instead of stealing your soul. Read more →

gathering the sparks of our ancestors

In Healing Words, Real Life, Travel on August 5

Sheffield Asian Cinema

We’re back from the intermission after ‘Following the sparks’…

Reminds me of back in the day when my mum, my sisters and I used to visit The Asian Cinema on Attercliffe Road, 2 buses each way, to watch the latest Bollywood movie. It seems all the Asians of South Yorkshire descended in this small theatre on Sundays. Read more →

following the sparks…

In Healing Words, Travel on July 28


A few weekends ago, in the deepest hills of Shropshire, I found myself enchanted amongst storytellers, bearded ones (not me) and Bhangra dancers (true) at The Festival at the Edge to share and hear stories from all over the world. To make us go ‘oooh’ and ‘aaaah’, preserving the ancient traditions of oral storytelling.

Stories matter. We’ve all got one or a few. And it was the sparks of an old story that brought me here… Read more →

The Spirit of Iceland: Part 2 ~ Glaciers, Volcanos & Vikings

In Travel on July 20

Spirit of Iceland

Visiting the feral Icelandic  landscape around Reykjavik is like entering a high energy portal of other worldliness. At any moment, I expected Golum to jump out from the mists thrown up by hot springs looking for his presciousssss. Read more →

The Spirit of Iceland: Part One ~ Reykjavik

In Travel on July 12

Iceland. I love you.

A place the Vikings discovered in the 9th century daring to settle amidst fire and ice, where the world founded it’s first parliament, the land of ancient sagas and weathered texts, tectonic plates colliding creating astonishing beauty,  gurgling ponds of mud waiting for the stir of a witch’s spoon Read more →

message from a soul sister…

In Healing Words, Loss, Grief and Hope on July 8

I’m still alive!

In my head, I’m singing those words in a raspy soul voice that sounds as if it’s been scraped off an exhausted dance floor circa 1969 Harlem, a vocal love child of James Brown and Vicki Anderson. Ah Vicki Anderson, how glad I am that I’ve just discovered you Read more →

the hidden vocabulary of loss

In Loss, Grief and Hope on June 14

It’s been 17 weeks since my beloved Dad left his physical body. Very early days still and a tender heart beats on, with no end date in sight for this untamed tirade of feelings, sensations, emotions.  Thus far I can say, grief is a bitch. But a wise bitch at that. Read more →

Calm Soul Journal: An interview with Greta Solomon

In Interviews on June 4

Greta Solomon

Hello there! I’m totally chuffed to be welcoming back the Calm Soul Journal interviews. If ever there was a time to glean some wonderful wisdom from these soulful lasses it is now. Calmness and self care is at the top of my list as I continue to navigate the murky waters of grief. So it’s with great joy that I introduce you to Greta Solomon, a writer, journalist and so much more. And she has the most amazing smile…enjoy : ) Read more →

The liminal thug and life belts

In Loss, Grief and Hope on May 12

…heartbreak may be the very essence of being human, of being on the journey from here to there, and of coming to care deeply for what we find along the way.” David Whyte

Well, I’m still here though it feels like only just. And still no idea of what ‘there’ will be or look like.

The last 3 weeks have been a total grief s**tstorm, full on liminal thuggery. The Liminal Thug dragged me deep underwater, plunged me further than I knew I could go and I’m only just coming up for breath. Read more →

little shifts and old clothes…

In Loss, Grief and Hope on April 4

Dad's Cardigan
Something’s started shifting over the last week. Mini strikes of lightening through the liminal fug, brightening interior worlds just for a moment. Or several. It’s these moments that when firmly rooted in the early days of grief,  I couldn’t imagine feeling for a very long time. Yet…

Baking brownies, Paradise by Coldplay banging out loud and suddenly the chocolate splattered spatula becomes my microphone Read more →