Cheers!

I could just drink one of these right now!  An Alfa beer.  A happy memory moment from my Skyros holiday which seems so long ago now the days in UK are darker, colder, and far from being 'chilled' in a relaxed holiday sort of way.

I am in touch with my Skyros friends - one of whom is writing her novel at a pace of knots during the NaNoWriMo experience which I have chosen NOT to partake in.  Another 'already established' author is also 'tweeting' and blogging about the NaNoWriMo experience.  It felt like too much pressure to put myself under - to commit to 1,500 words a day for the whole month of November.  After all my diary was already full of other things and there is the added pressure of Christmas being around the corner. 

But seeing them and others achieve good writing goals made me press on with mine regardless of the NaNoWriMo experience.  I am enjoying reconnecting with my work, retyping and allowing the story to go where it will.  I feel being connected to other writers is driving me on, if they can do it so can I.

I am up to 17,000 words now and loving being in my cabin for a two or three hours, for a few days per week.  The more I do, the more I want to do.  Things in my diary have been cancelled or rearranged.  Time is not an issue any more.  When you want to do something, you will find time.

My novel is well under way.  It would be nice in a year's time or less, to have it in a publisher's hand and be ever hopeful of it being accepted, printed and available for readers.

My children's books are out there as I write this awaiting their fate also.  I have a new kind of determination that I didn't have before my Skyros holiday. 

So Cheers @Skyrosholidays; @AndreaAnastasiou; @dellagalton; @carolematthews; @kimthebookworm; @christiebarlow; @mandybaggot; @bookouture and all authors connected by twitter.  Coffee time!!

Tweeting!

The little blue bird has won!  Mentally I tell myself that spending time on social media is a waste of valuable time.  There are so many other things to do, especially when I am supposed to be writing a novel. 

My daily devotions to the Internet are far too long - a look at Facebook, play a game or two of Words with Friends and Wordox, read the latest Tweets, write a blog, send an email or three - the list seems endless.  So what do I do, open a second Twitter account to post on 'Counselling Helps' @sueflint13.

It might seem that I miss my work life - I am a retired Person Centred Counsellor and Supervisor of Counsellors.  For me it is a 'sorting out stuff' time of year.  The annual tidy up before Christmas.  Papers, folders, drawers, cupboards have all had my attention recently.  There are so many rich papers from my Counselling courses that I am loathed to just throw them out.  Some I can pass on to colleagues who are still working, but the idea to Tweet short helpful statements came in a flash and before you know it I had another Twitter account.  I hope it is useful to those who 'follow'.  The years of learning and experience I had would then not be lost.  Am I just procrastinating in the letting go or genuinely concerned for others well being?  Perhaps both.

We all have problems, every day something upsets us, frustrates us, annoys us or we have health issues to contend with, relationship difficulties, injustices to fight, work/life balance stresses.  Positivity isn't always easy to practise.  So any little snippet of uplifting thought is useful; any thought provoking statement can change the course of our day (or even our life) if we allow it to.

Take a look at my new Twitter account, follow me and tweet a reply.  Or leave a comment on this blog post.  I love hearing from you.  Many thanks.

NNR - Poppy Line

Holt to Sheringham

The steaming black giant arrived exactly on time.  Old men in beige jackets hurried towards the end of the platform to click away on their cameras catching a glimpse of nostalgia.  Above them, on the platform, hangs a sign announcing an area for women - a waiting room out of the chill of winds.

As the train came to a halt, passengers scrambled aboard the carriages and seated themselves for the short journey.  Excitement was a long ago feeling, now the elderly calmly awaited the whistle that the station master would blow when all the carriage doors had been slammed shut.

A baby cried, the carriage echoed its screams.  The mother could not calm it and everyone became restless.  Then silently the train rolls forward and the journey began.  Soon the rhythm and rocking motion comforted the child and countryside scenery gave the passengers delights from the windows.  A golf course, a windmill, rotting old boats by a shed in a field, the sea in the distance and soon, a stop at a station where the signal tags were exchanged by the guardsman and station master.  In a buffet café on the station, people sat sipping tea and eating scones - it seemed like time had stood still. 

The black uniform of the conductor and his ticket clipper gives him an air of authority.  He is a volunteer in his 80's.  His friend, Mr Briggs was on the train, hearing aid turned up and shouting across the aisle as his wife made comments about politics.  The carriage heard his views on UKIP, the Prime Minister and the state of the world today.  A far cry from the world it was when, as a lad, he travelled this way before.

When a diesel engine passed by on the other line, full of school children on a trip out, the steam train edged forward again then smoothly continued on its journey. 

At the terminus everyone clambered out onto the platform - no electrically opening doors but passengers reaching out through the pull-down window to the handle that opened the carriage door.

More cameras, more chatter of how the engine would get hooked up to take the carriages back again. They stood and watched as the engine uncoupled from its coaches, shunted forwards, changed line, then reversed to the other end of the coaches to recouple and commence its return journey.

Soon there will be no-one to remember when these beasts were the crème de la crème of transport, only day trippers out for a Sunday ride.

 

A Retreat Day

Coming Home to God – Quiet Day 31.10.15

Booking a Quiet Day is hard when the voice in your head says ‘can I afford to take a whole day out in my busy life’, ‘who will be there, what if I don’t know anyone, I’m not sure where it is exactly….’ Your reward is in the stepping out in faith - ‘Come unto me all who are heavy laden and I shall give you rest’.

It is not like a holiday or a weekend away where excitement builds and baggage is necessary. Any ‘baggage’ we carry mentally melts away in the Hillcrest Centre where, just arriving enables you to sink into ‘space’, ‘time’ and ‘stillness’. You are greeted by white doves on the pathway and a rainbow of cushions on a long, soft sofa in the meeting room. There are other rooms to use – the cosy conservatory, a chapel, a small cottage lounge, an art room and the dining room. There are walks across fields or around the lake where benches and a summer house are strategically placed so that you can sit awhile, reflect and feel part of nature.

No sooner are brief introductions made than the Retreat Day leaders help participants enter into sacred space aided by lit candles, softly played music, a themed picture, bible reading and meditation. Words are sent straight to your soul – something of your situation is silently, secretly touched. You ‘come home to God’ where you are safe, where there are no more hurts, where tender care is and where you are precious. Your spirit stirs within you and you are there – in His Presence. Outside autumn leaves have fallen and brighten up the sadness of the season with their colours – reds, yellows, browns and greens. Dew drops glisten on blades of grass; two ducks glide silently across the water; bulrushes and the reflection of trees appear upside down on the water; holly bushes bare their bright red berries. God whispers, “I am here”.

Hot drinks and biscuits warm me from my walk and again I sink into the stillness and peace of the main room. Such bliss! I am drawn into the picture of the shepherd rejoicing at finding his lost sheep. How special that lamb must feel on the shoulders of the One who carries him. We are so very unaware that God does this for us every day. When we take time to ‘draw near’ He reveals Himself to us in ways we miss on a daily basis. He is our Rescuer – how often do we give thanks? He is the One that leads us Home in this life and the next; He binds up the injured – how many illnesses have we overcome? He strengthens us for the next stage of life.

There are footprints in the picture and it makes me look back to the many times He has carried me and then set me down on a new path – He has placed me in flocks of people, both at home and abroad. ‘Home’ they say ‘is where the heart is’ but it is also a place of refuge, restoration, safety, comfort, healing; it is where you can be yourself, where feelings can flow, where nourishment and cleansing takes place. He has led me to many a Retreat House and Church; He has given me a spiritual home and connected me with likeminded people. How blessed I am.

A Home cooked, wholesome lunch served by lovely ladies who help Stella and Mark at their home enables the group to chat and get to know each other a little better over the kitchen tables. Afterwards, another meditation with an hour or so of silence to read, nap, walk, be creative with art materials or write in a journal. Time passes very quickly and we end the day with song and prayer.

Those doubts in our heads beforehand, long forgotten and hopefully dispelled by the time another Quiet Day is arranged. Thank you so very much, Pippa and Cathy.