When time stands still & a recipe

Butternut squash and beetroot quinoa

EARLY THIS MORNING, just as night became day, I saw one of the wood pigeons sitting on top of the Celtic cross, on the church roof apex across the street and, my Sunday morning, ever so gently, came into being.

Early silvery silent hours. Peace in my bones. I sat on a cushion, looking out of the window. Watching. Blue sky, evergreen leaves moving hardly at all. One seagull flying away in the distance. I started remembering.

I remembered the small wood I used to visit when I lived in Bath. The above picture was taken early one spring, as the wild garlic started to peek through dark, damp, crumbly earth. By May, the entire woodland floor was a rich green tufted carpet of wild garlic. One of my favourite treasures, for sandwiches, pestos, sautés and pickles, salads, soups, butters and stews.

On the way to that wood there is a spot where time stands still, which becomes deeper and richer with every step.

First, the magnolia in someone’s front garden, then another, this one sweet smelling. Opposite this house-lined street, I take a turn off up the no-through road, that is no longer repaired; turning it into a wide track. Trees on each side and fields beyond, tufts of couch grass sprouting up through the cracked tarmac. And nettles, plantain, dandelions, mixed with other wild plants spilling over the edges of this old piece of cracked lane. Beyond the trees on each side fields and the odd house.

At the end of this track stands an old cemetery full of trees and little creatures keeping the birds company. This precious overgrown haven, is full of wild plants that climb and cascade, and in the summer wild flowers.

I walk between ancient stones with messages engraved, under a canopy of fully grown trees, ivy climbing their trunks. I wind my way through those old gravestones and green plants to the middle of this place. Here there is a very small, old disused church. I carry on along more winding pathway of dark soil, and come to some old, worn stone steps. Climbing these to an earthy narrow path, woods to my right and ahead. To my left trees with gaps that let you see fields and sky and, in the distance, buildings of Bath and peoples lives being lived. And, it is there. Right there in that spot, where time stands still.

It could be two hundred years ago, or more. It could be a thousand. There is no time from that point on, into the woods. It’s as if, the whole world has stopped. There’s peace in that, when time disappears. It goes deep.

And so I made way along the wet earth pathway into the wood, leaving life’s hiccups behind. Beautiful.

Joy dots

Living soil

Trees

Time standing still

Daffodils

Bright sunny days

Friendship

Warm times

Early mornings

Hot mugs of something nice

Generosity

Smiles

Remembering

2024

I MENTIONED LAST year that I would start writing a book called 21-Day Challenge: feeling well with Ayurveda—where I will introduce you to the three pillars for creating an Ayurvedic preventative/complimentary healthcare plan.

The three pillars are resetting your circadian rhythm, renewing your digestion and rebalancing your constitution. If you can do all these three things, you will be supporting the incredible regenerative abilities of your beautiful body.

For many years I have seen people suffering from low energy, digestive issues, weakened immunity, sleep problems and other chronic conditions; it drains their vitality and lust for life. It was the same for me, I suffered these life-restricting ailments through debilitating digestive issues and related symptoms. Needing to find a way to heal I tried many approaches all of which failed, until I went back to the basics with Ayurveda, and 15 years of life-restricting symptoms were sorted in just 3 months.

That’s why I trained in Ayurveda and wrote Your Peaceful Belly—to be recorded this year for my paying subscribers—which shows you how to create an Ayurvedic healthcare plan, and explains Ayurveda in simple terms. But, the thing I find over and again through my work, is that the biggest hurdle for everyone, is habit change. In the West we have been conditioned to want a pill and a quick fix. And, It can be hard to convince ourselves that doing something differently, can make a huge difference to how we feel. And so I watch people either beginning but not continuing, or never quite beginning.

That’s what this little book is going to be about—helping people to get started and stay the course. I will be serialising the first draft for my paying subscribers from March.

Currently, I am piloting the challenge myself. And from February I will offer the opportunity to a few people to pilot it too. I will be selling a supported programme for this challenge, later in the year, but if you would like me to support you for free while I pilot it with a few people as a group, email me at yourwellbeing@substack.com. I will get back in touch to arrange a chat, so that you can decide whether this is a good fit for you at this time.

Recipe

Butternut squash stuffed with beetroot quinoa

Here’s an easy colourful meal. I make it quite a lot and vary the stuffing spices and other things to make it tasty. I just baked the butternut squash, and roasted the beetroot. I cooked quinoa and mixed with the chopped beetroot, that I had roasted in ghee. I added black pepper, good salt, a little cinnamon, and lime juice. Sometimes I add lemon juice and zest. I usually have fresh herbs to add, mint, coriander and parsley are nice. So too are a tiny bit of Rosemary finely chopped and thyme.

Night night

I SPENT THIS beautiful sunny Sunday out, and on my way home, as the sun went down, I saw the fox, lolloping footsteps ahead on the road, big tail swishing as it disappeared from view. I only really got a glimpse of the swishing tail, as it disappeared between the parked cars in the street. Now I’m snug at home, fairy lights reflected in the dark night sky window. The silence of the street outside, warmth inside and cosy lights. Soon, I will light some candles, then I wend my way to bed, to the sound of owls terwit terwooing, somewhere.

Wishing you the warmest of weeks.

Lucy x