Deep dive, warm words & a recipe that costs penny’s
For my new subscribers, I just wanted to explain the space I’m creating here on substack. I’m a hypnotherapist and I know from my training and own life experience, that when stress levels get too high we respond to life from the survival brain, which can only act from a place of anger, anxiety, depression, with negative and obsessive thinking processes.
Earlier this year I thought long and deep about how I could bring myself to the world we find ourselves in, where our stress levels are ramped up every day, day in day out. I decided to start writing a substack to sooth stressed brains.
The idea with everything I post is to nourish body, heart and mind. For this reason you won’t find any politics or social comment here. And, that doesn’t mean that I’m unaware of what is going on in the world, that I don’t care, or that I don’t engage. It just means that my way of engaging is to create a safe space, where people can come to be nourished. I do this because I believe the way we bring ourselves to what we do, matters.
If our survival brain is driving what we do nothing changes, in the long run. When we bring ourselves from the same fear, anger and panic—survival brain response—as those that are committing atrocities, the same human stories keep playing out, generation after generation. And so, I want to create a safe space where people can come to nourish their body, heart and mind. Not from a place of uncaring, but from the belief that if we can keep our stress levels low, then perhaps we can bring ourselves in a way that will lead to fundamental change.
That’s why you will only find warm words and joy dots here, to calm weary brains, to empty the stress bucket. And recipes that nourish the deep tissues of your body, so that your creature-hood can feel soothed too. Along with learning about the Ayurvedic view of health, which is based on strong digestion—stress, digestion and good health are all connected.
I truly believe the world will only change when we change. We have lived in fear and anger for millennia, until we can stand in a demonstration with the same level of compassion for the aggressor that we feel for the victim, I don’t believe anything will change at all.writes about this here
The early morning sky was deep and blue this morning. A tiny bird flew from the tree out front, I could almost reach it with my hand as I leaned through the open window smelling the early morning air. It was a new day.
In the distance, a seagull soared through the sky. Down on the ground I saw a snail moving towards the garden gate, ever so slowly.
Worms were wiggling in the soil, and I spotted a buddleia growing out of someone’s roof on the way to work.
Cracked pavements had tufts of wild grass pushing through.
I saw a bee collecting pollen from a late flowering lavender. Then I saw another bee diving deep into rosemary flowers, pale mauve to match a changing sky.
I search for the pockets of peace in this world of ours, where many worlds play out on this, absolutely beautiful and spectacular, planet. Spinning so silently in space.
Deep blue sky
The smell of wet earth
Old stone wall
Red post box gleaming
Red bricks in the sun
Coriander gone to flower
Bees and pollen
Owls in trees
Sunflower seed spread
This is so easy to make and you end up with a lovely alternative to peanut butter. If you know your Ayurvedic constitution, kapha types this is a much better option for you than nut butters.
Put the sunflower seeds in the oven and toast until golden, then pop them into a food processor and grind the seeds. Next process slowly for one to two minutes. Stop and clean down the sides then process for another minute or two. Repeat this about four times, until you have a nice creamy paste. Don’t be tempted to process on high as it is the slow consistent processing that gives you a creamy sunflower butter. If you don’t toast the seeds you may need to add a some oil.
Owls in moonlight, so precious. Their terwit terwooing music can keep you company on late autumn nights when the air is cool and dry, and leaves are crispy on the trees as you walk through a wood toe to heal, ever so gently, aware of everything, yet your gaze not focused on anything so as not to create a disturbance. Then the stars, they come a twinkling down to light your way, and you become part of the wood.
Wishing you the warmest,