Galilee

Heading up to Nazareth Village we witnessed the phenomenon of Israeli shepherding. Israeli shepherds lead their sheep and it is impressive to watch. The shepherd shown in this photo is actually an actor and the sheep didn't know him very well. Normally they follow their shepherd closely wherever he goes. Hence Psalm 21: The Lord is my Shepherd, he leadeth me. If you have ever felt coerced in life, this is a good concept to think about. Only the butcher uses dogs to drive his sheep in Israel.

Muscle and memory

'Muscle has memory'

So Louise Doughty says in her blog 'the writer's year'.

Actually I think that the whole body has memory. Emotions become trapped in our body, where they can cause illness. Our bodies, souls and minds should be as one vigorous, entwined expression of life and love.

In the last week I have started doing Darcey Bussell's beautifully calm, meditative 'Darcey Bussell: Pilates For Life' One strange consequence of this is that I felt a breath of dark, sooty breath clearing itself out of my lungs. Who knows, I may have averted serious illness.

Certain eastern medicine systems believe that every part of the body corresponds with a different part of the soul and body. I must admit that my knowledge of this is superficial, but I do use a book called Transform Your Life: A Step-by-step Programme for Change which has a section on the body and the corresponding emotions and what they mean. If I have a problem with a particular part of my body I will always consider the emotional side, although I also consider the possibility that it is nothing to do with that at all. I think it's a mistake to believe that every illness is within our control - sometimes we are ill for inexplicable reasons. And sometimes we suffer through no fault of our own. Still, the connection is worth bearing in mind. The body can offer helpful clues as to our emotional issues. There can be no separating the body from the spiritual and emotional spheres.

Recalling summer

Alice sent me this wonderful poem about summer:

Mint

I am chopping up the last mint of summer.
It’s a ritual goodbye –
goes with sandals, bare legs, shorts and suntan lotion,
alfresco dinners and the candles burning
to a waxen stump
among the garden leaves.
Last mint on my fingers now,
the scent of it pushed through my hair
when I lift my hand
from a finishing touch to dinner.
Last ritual in a ritual,
and everything I’ve ever learned
seems to return
to the comfort and confines of cycles such as these –
how I am balanced on the last, sharp edges
of this pepper scent which I want to be everywhere,
holding it close
with every intensity I shall ever have,
and how I forget it, in the snow-filled silence
of my three-month-hence garden,
so I wonder to myself
Did I ever eat mint? Did I ever crush it on the circle
of this wide blue plate? Did I ever crave a summer,
long and green and full of this?
The mystery is
what we do with loves even as small as this –
how we learn to live with them,
how we learn to forget.

(R Seatter)

winter sun

There are two ways to cope with January blues: The first is to book a holiday to South Africa and soak up some lovely sunny rays. I did this when I was pregnant with my son and it worked a treat. A bumpy ride

This year I'm rather uncomfortable with the idea. Partly because of the threat of impending global warming floods, partly an allergic reaction to the drear of airport travelling, but ultimately a sense that there is something too extreme about being plunged into summer when your body seriously believes it should be slowing down for long winter nights, I just think it wouldn't be right to book a winter sun holiday.

But how to get through the dreariness of January?

Well, firstly study ">Roast Figs and Sugar Snow by Diana Henry. It is a culinary celebration of all things cold and wintry and I defy you to want a January summer after reading it. If the dark days are getting you down you could also get one of the lumie lamp range These clever lamps wake you up with a bright light that slowly comes on in the morning to simulate the sunrise. At night it slowly fades when you switch the alarm on which is a very cosy way to go to sleep. Even more effective are their desktop lamps. This year I'm going to enjoy the cold slow stillness of January and spend the time dreaming of my long summer holiday on an organic farm in Tuscany, and if none of that works I shall learn to tango.