The perfection of uniqueness

"I would rather live in a world where my life was surrounded by mystery than live in a world so small that my mind could comprehend it." - Harry Emerson Fosdick

The trees, whose wonderful autumn colours delighted us only a short time ago, have now lost their "glory terrestrial" and, overnight, their nakedness has been magically transformed by a "glory celestial" as the first snows of winter fell.

The dogs, naturally, are enchanted by this strange element that has invaded their garden. Despite her extremely short legs, Poppy is among the most enthusiastic and manages to collect impressive quantities of snowballs in her fur from chasing the others around the lawn.

Snow has always held a fascination for me. Watching snowflakes fall is incredibly hypnotic; these countless, ethereal crystals floating so silently from the sky in their microscopic perfection. It has been said that every snowflake is unique - if that is so (and I like to believe it is!) what an absolutely astonishing mystery of nature it is that lies out there in its translucent, transforming and, ultimately, transient beauty.

Taking time to see

"Nobody sees a flower - really - it is so small it takes time - we haven't time - and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time." - Georgia O'Keeffe

Our beautiful house was once a granary, and I am very lucky to have my study facing onto the courtyard; the view of which is framed by one of the granary arches, now filled in by sliding glass doors which makes for a very peaceful, light and sunny room. Around the courtyard are some lovely trees and shrubs, much beloved by a variety of small birds whose presence we encourage by a steady supply of peanuts. The bluetits are particularly abundant and I have a huge affection for these tiny creatures whose small lives are lived out so close to our own, and yet so secretively that we cannot share much of their daily travails.

Last week, however, I was able to share for a brief time in the life of one of these tiny scraps of feathered beauty which unfortunately collided catastrophically with the big glass window of my study in its journey across the courtyard. Fortunately the client I was seeing at the time had no objection to my hurrying outside on a rescue mission - not the first time this has happened! As I scooped up this little bird very gently from the stone, it clung to my finger and sat, somewhat bemused, in the warmth of my hand. I was struck by the beauty of the colours; able to take my time to really see, as this little creature slowly recovered - amazed by the perfection of each tiny feather.

I was very grateful for this small interlude of exploration into a beauty that we are not normally privileged to see. This week set aside some time - even if it only five minutes - to really see something; a flower, a leaf or a blade of grass - and be amazed by the beauty you discover. As Henry Miller wrote, "The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself."

Looking for the silver lining

The natural world is an immense source of inspiration and metaphor. Watching the grey clouds moving ponderously across a leaden sky on this chilly late Autumn afternoon, it occurred to me that the sky could be a very interesting metaphor for our emotional state. The weather is constantly changing, just as our thoughts and emotions come and go across our mind. Like the weather, sometimes our mood can seem to be "set in" for the day - which is wonderful if we are feeling in a sunny disposition, but not so good if we are surrounded by our own personal cloud of gloom.

It is important to remember that we are not our emotions - they are not attached to us, just as the clouds are not attached to the sky. Happiness is a state of mind and, believe it or not, we do actually have a conscious control over our own state of mind; you can choose to be happy right now, in this moment - that is your decision. No person or event actually has the power to "make" us feel a particular way; we react to situations because of the way we perceive them - and in that moment there is always a choice of how we react - it is our choices that show who we truly are. Every cloud really does have a silver lining and it is up to us whether we choose to look for it.

It depends on your point of view...

Thursday 4 November is a windy, overcast day here in North Yorkshire... Many people have been commenting to me over the last few days how dark it seems, with the nights drawing in and the clocks changing. We are now coming home in the dark, and it won't be too long before we are leaving home in the dark too!
As I sit here at my desk, looking out at the grey sky, the garden is starting to look distinctly folorn as the plants begin their winter sleep. However, the view from the sitting room of the same scene has a distinctly different twist. Seen from this slightly different perspective there is a splash of wonderful colour - a stunning Agapanthus defies the dull autumn weather with flaunting blue petals; brightening up the whole aspect of the garden, catching the eye and reminding us of warmth, the lazy droning of bees and long, golden summer days.
Sometimes all we need is to look at things from a slightly different point of view.

Teachings of Dog - No 5: The Gift of Time

We were granted the gift of a whole extra hour of weekend, thanks to the clocks changing, and I enjoyed Jim Connolly's excellent blog on this subject yesterday.

Time is a precious commodity and, like water, we tend not to appreciate how precious until there is a shortage of it. Hugo is our oldest dog - at 14 we are now counting his remaining days like pearls slipping gently off a string. I'm not sure what happened to the tiny, fluffy soft-toy puppy we brought home in 1996, or where the glossy, energetic young dog has gone, who used to love the beaches in Guernsey. I remember walking along Vazon Bay one day and John saying he wished we could save a day of "young Hugo" to spend when he was old.

Hugo can no longer walk very far, but still enjoys a potter around the lawn and has a prodigious appetite for fallen apples, which he crunches up with tremendous satisfaction. He can no longer jump onto the sofa, but with a bit of assistance he can make it onto the furry beanbag which adapts itself very comfortably to his arthritic little body. Ensconced in front of the fire, he dreams dreams which make his feet twitch as if he's running once more along Vazon beach - I think maybe he spends more time as "young Hugo" than we know.

Hugo's Teachings:

• Live in the moment - today is a gift (they say that's why it's called 'the present').
• When you can no longer do what you used to do, find something better.
• Even when you are old, the younger you is still in there - somewhere.
• When life gives you an extra hour, spend it with someone you love.
• The most important things in life are love, compassion and patience... always.